thereof, are the paramount law of the land, any thing in the Constitution or laws of a State, to the contrary notwithstanding. Acting upon the doctrine of the Convention, the Legislature passed an act, requiring all military officers thereafter to be elected, to take an oath of exclusive allegiance to the State, as an indispensable pre-requisite to their obtaining their commissions. The passage of that act produced great excitement. The Unionists who were appointed to military offices, uniformly refused to take the oath. The question, finally, was carried into court, and, after elaborate argument by very able counsel upon both sides, it was decided by the highest judicial tribunal of the State, that the act in question was unconstitutional, or, in other words, that the Legislature had no right to impose such an oath without a previous amendment of the State Constitution, notwithstanding the ordinance of the State Convention. Upon the announcement of this decision, the popular feeling displayed a degree of exasperation that approached to the verge of a civil war. Threats were not only made of the impeachment and removal of the court, by whom the obnoxious decision had been given, and who, by an unparallelled act of judicial usurpation, had trampled under foot the sovereign power of the State, but language of an equally violent character was used respecting all military officers who should attempt to exercise their functions without having taken the oath required. Mr. Hayne was at that time Governor, and seeing the prodigious excitement that prevailed on both sides, and apprehensive that, if not speedily quelled, it might result in consequences equally dangerous and disgraceful, he not only issued a proclamation enjoining obedience to the decision of the court, but exerted himself, in every other manner in his power, to allay the popular ferment, and to induce the State Rights party to leave the question to be settled by the Legislature, and the principle carried out by an amendment. of the Constitution. His efforts, fortunately, were successful, and the effusion of blood was thus a second time prevented. Again, when the Legislature met, and a bill was introduced to establish the doctrine of exclusive allegiance to the State, all the former violence of party feeling was renewed. The State Rights party were determined to enforce that principle, and the Union party were equally determined to resist it. They objected, vehemently, to the phraseology in which the bill was couched. They denounced it, not only as illib

eral and ungenerous, but as expressly intended to proscribe and disfranchise all, in all time to come, who might hold the principle of a divided allegiance, or regard the Federal Constitution and the acts of Congress, as paramount to the Constitution and laws of the State. Here, again, the prudence and good feeling of Mr. Hayne, threw oil upon the raging waves, and produced a calm. Acting in conjunction with Gen. Hamilton and others of the State Rights party, and Mr. Petigru and others of the Unionists, he happily effected a compromise satisfactory to both. The bill was so amended, that while it required all officers, indiscriminately, before they entered upon the performance of their duties, to swear "true allegiance to the State, as long as they continue citizens thereof," it also required them to swear to "support, protect, and defend, the Constitution of this State and of the United States," and in that form it was adopted by the requisite majority,--that great contest having ended in allowing every citizen to determine for himself whether his allegiance is exclusive or divided, and which part of the oath is obligatory on his conscience. Thus this last storm blew over, like the others, and the contending parties became reconciled to each other, nor has any thing since occurred to disturb the general harmony and good feeling of the State.

Mr. Hayne was twice married,-first, to Frances Henrietta, daughter of the late Hon. Charles Pinckney, by whom he had two sons and a daughter,-and, after her death, to Rebecca Brewton, daughter of the late Colonel William Alston, by whom he had two sons. All of his children are alive, except his eldest son. In all the private relations of life, Mr. Hayne was irreproachable and exemplary. In his figure, he was manly, in his temper, affable, -in his deportment, courteous and dignified,-in his conversation, interesting and instructive,-always displaying, in his fine and expressive countenance, the ennobling qualities and generous aspirations of his heart, and engaging confidence and affection by the uncommon sweetness of his smile. It is true that the public monument that was ordered, has never been erected to his memory. But it is not necessary. His fame belongs to history. He lives, and will long live, in the grateful and admiring remembrance of his countrymen!

P.

ART. X.-CRITICAL NOTICES.

1.-Coningsby, or The New Generation. By B. D'ISRAELI, Esq., M. P., Author of "Vivian Gray," "Young Duke," "Venetia," etc. Philadelphia Carey & Hart.

THE present condition of England is a subject on which all men talk, and some men think. We have alarmists, terrorists, and hopefuls in England, and violent declaimers in all other countries. They all agree that the English nation is on the verge of a revolution, though all differ in determining what that revolution is to be. According to the majo rity, that great empire is hastening to its certain downfall; while others, with more energy, or more abundant hope in their bosoms, anticipate a thorough fusion of the old elements, and a consequent regeneration of the State, from the ferment now working so furiously beneath the surface. Which supposition may be correct, will be seen hereafter. In the mean time, we are deafened with the baldest sophistry, the most disjointed chat, and bodiless speculation on the great question. Carlyle has set the whole world a-gabbling. His late attempt, in his Past and Present, to detect the elementary powers now seething in the vast caldron, has scattered, far and wide, the virus of the new distemper. His analysis of obvious phenomena has evidently made this a favorite subject for authorship, and by rendering it popular, has made it also a profitable one. The mode in which he set about solving the problem, the romantic interest which he contrived to throw over his speculations, and the semi-romantic form in which he embodied them, have evidently infected D'Israeli, among others, and inspired his present volume. It must, however, always be a hazardous and uncertain undertaking, to determine the spirit and tendency of any great social revolution from the opinions expressed, or the indications exhibited in the first wild ebullitions which attend its birth. Whoever attempts it, is in danger of being driven to the same disagreeable fluctuations of doctrine as befell a certain Reverend gentleman, who wrote a book during the early triumphs of Napoleon, to prove the young conqueror to be Gog, another, to retract what he had published, when Bonaparte was exiled to Elba; a third, to prove that he was Magog, at the commencement of the Hundred Days; and a fourth, to withdraw all that he had already said, when St. Helena received its illustrious prisoner.

Fortunately, indeed, D'Israeli is neither so sweeping in his asseve. rations, nor so radical in his views, as his bolder predecessor. There is less dogmatism, and consequently more hope. He has not projected himself so rashly into the future, nor labored with the same earnestness to link together eras and feelings, totally dissimilar in their character. His book is accordingly less garnished with paradoxes, and less haunted

with the night-mare. But Carlyle is more fortunate than D'Israeli, both in the form which he has adopted, and the tone in which his hopes and his lamentations are uttered. The didactic mould in which the former has cast his thoughts, would lead us to anticipate a grave political dissertation; and we are at once surprised and delighted, by the many artistic touches of poetry and pathos which enliven his path. Moreover, we are irresistibly attracted by the quaint point-device manner of his expression, and frequently hurried away by the turbulent impetuosity of his grotesque, but fascinating eloquence. We expect from this novel and the novelist, that deep feeling and poetic sentiment, which so agreeably disappointed us in the essayist; but here, again, our preconceptions are utterly belied. We are startled by encountering, in a romance, long political disquisitions,-which are tedious and dull, because so palpably mal-apropos. It is true, these discussions may be required for the attainment of the object which the author has set before him; but with such an object in view, he should never have attempted to achieve it through the instrumentality of a romance.

D'Israeli has written Coningsby to explain the causes which have reduced England to her present anomalous condition, to point to that party to whom he thinks is consigned the noble office of her redemption, to illustrate the principles by which they are actuated, and the ends they desire to accomplish. This party is that association of noblemen and commons, which is known by the fanciful name of Young England. They wish to overthrow the domination of Bobissimus Quidam cum Bobioribus Multis. The task was one, certainly, worthy of D'Israeli's powers; though we conceive it would have been more suitably handled in any other form, than that of a novel. We will not dwell upon the particular views enunciated in Coningsby. This minute consideration would lead us into the same error, that he has committed himself, and, moreover, belongs to a different latitude, and a different meridian.

When we examine the plan of this novel, we must be amazed at the barren simplicity of the plot,-or rather, we should say, at the absence of all plot. A rich and unprincipled nobleman,—of the stamp so often repeated since Bulwer's Night and Morning,-quarrels with his own son, but educates and liberally supports his grand-son, who is sent to Eton, and in due time to Cambridge; meditating, the while, revolution in his teens. He falls in love with a pretty girl,-thwarts his grandfather, and is disinherited by him, in favor of a natural daughter,—marries the lady of his love, and has the fortune left to him at the early death of the original legatee. Voilà tout. A simple plot like this, might facilitate the exposition of those doctrines, which the novel was written to illustrate,-but invention has never, indeed, been D'Is. raeli's forte. With a wild and riotous fancy, and much keen observation of men and manners, he has never displayed much creative imagination.

The dramatis personæ form as remarkable a collection of acids and alkalies as was ever drawn together for reciprocal neutralization. The rich Sidonia is the dream of a Hebrew of the Hebrews,-no one but a Jew would have ever conceived such a singular compound. He embodies in himself the virtues and the wealth of Rothschild and Montefiore, while his history draws many of its incidents from their lives. To these are added the peculiar attributes of the beau garçon, while he is throughout made to give utterance to the strange hallucinations of D'Israeli. Sir Moses Montefiore is undoubtedly designed to be principally represented, but such a strange creature was never before made to figure in the pages of a novel, as he has certainly never been witnessed in life. Sidonia unites in himself all the elements of the beau, (we do not like the word, for it has been degraded,) but he has certainly none of the signs of the vraisemblable. The varied talents, the universal acquirements, the omnifarious qualities of Sidonia, make a very pleasing fantasy, and appear as "a most devout imagination," until you see him in positions, which recall to your mind the fact, that his character and actions are wholly at variance with the circumstances of his career. The brilliant Sidonia, winning a neck-or-nothing race over a broken country is very exciting, and interesting enough until you divest his exploit of the purple light of fancy, and reduce it to the prosaic realities of life. Then the idea of consols and five-per-cents, engaging in such a hairbrained and dare-devil amusement, appears both improbable and superlatively ludicrous.

Lucretia Colonna is a conception equally capricious and inconsistent. She is designed to be brilliant, and yet is invariably dull,—she is represented as possessed of the most varied and extensive gifts of the intellect, and yet is unanimated and uninteresting, she is spoken of as majestic in her air and imposing in her manners, and yet the impression she leaves on our minds makes us imagine her as gauche and a dowdy. The effect she creates, always conflicts with all that she is said to be. Instead of the "volto aperto, pensieri stretti," which would be consonant with her blood and her nation, she is ever moody and inexpressive, and might be supposed entirely devoid of thought.

Similar objections might be brought against many of the other characters of the piece. But these defects are, in a great measure, to be accounted for by the apparent determination of D'Israeli, that nothing should figure in his pages but principalities and powers, peers and millionnaires, with their wives, their daughters, their cousins, and their dependents. The amelioration of all classes, but particularly of the lower classes, is the text on which the author professes to preach. We hear a great deal of the peasantry, but we never see the peasant: and as for the cits, they are either forgotten, or wilfully excluded. While reading the novel, you are never permitted to forget that D'Israeli is a Jew, who has evinced his reverence for mammon by a contract matrimonial with a rich widow.