duced, anything of temporary satire. Their Herod and Judas are never pictures of local tyrants; but we cannot avoid suspecting that the Boy-Bishop and such things are very often attacks on the secular clergy. Wherever literature in any form exists and whatever there was of literature did exist in the monasteries - there is the play of mind which expresses itself in satire; and we entertain no doubt whatever that much of the Fescinnine license which the decorum of modern society, and its separation of classes of men from each other, has mischievously silenced, and each day seeks more and more to drive out of the world, was then freely indulged in, and contributed its share to the amusement of these communities.

In these colleges the abbot was chosen by the brethren, and "bound to consult the senior brethren on lesser matters, and the whole body on the more important contingencies."* He was not, however, bound to do more than consult; the decision rested with him; the vow of obedience was regarded as obligatory on the consciences of the others.

The novitiate of a monk was far from inviting. The effort of the founders of monasteries was to discourage, not to welcome, zeal. The candidate stood for days supplicating for admission. This, no doubt, was a form, but a form imposing humiliation. He was then received into the chamber of strangers; an ancient monk, then, in the language of dissuasion probably adopting some prescribed form of words -explained the rule of the order, and the difficulty of observing it. The rule was again read to him at the end of two months; again at the end of half a year; and then at the end of the year-if he persevered in his resolution he was allowed "to make profession in public. The profession was confined to a vow of" perseverance in the monastic life, correction of moral delinquency, and obedience."

The

rule fixed punishments for offences; it gave the abbot the power of expulsion; but provided for the restoration of the offender on promise of amendment.

The plan of Mr. Milman's work does not allow him to bring the history of these institutions far enough down to exhibit their effects on general society; and we regret this. In some future portion of his work we trust that this will be supplied.

We have already exceeded our space; and yet we feel that we have brought this very instructive book but imperfectly before our readers. It is not possible to compress into a few pages the substance of a narrative extending over a thousand years; and much that it suggests cannot even be adverted to. We hope, therefore, to return to the subject. We know no writer who, when a picture is to be distinctly presented to the mind, so entirely succeeds as the author of these volumes. The movements of societies are often described almost as perfectly as if the narrative concerned itself with the fates and fortunes of individuals. This wonderful power Mr. Milman and Mr. Grote, of living writers, alone possess in any high degree. It is, perhaps, from the circumstance that his thoughts are more conversant in this work with the movements of associated men, and with individuals acting in a representative character, than with men making their own felt in defiance of surrounding circumstances, that Mr. Milman seems to us less successful when he undertakes to give the history of opinions. In this part of his task we do not say he is inaccurate, but his language is not for us sufficiently definite. And we should wish more frequent extracts exhibiting in their own words — the only way in which it can be satisfactorily done - the views of such theological writers as he gives an account of. We may, however, be wishing for actual impossibilities. No single book can do the work of a theological library.

UNTIL the last twelvemonth opened a new page in history, it could not have been anticipated that the battle-field of Europe would be a little arid peninsula in the remotest corner of the Black Sea, and that the armies of Britain, France, Turkey, and Russia would be concentrated in direst strife around a fortress, whose very name was hardly known in this country before the present war broke out. It speaks volumes for the far-seeing sagacity and indomitable ambition of the Czars, that they should have created in a spot so distant, a fortress and fleet so formidable, as to compel Western Europe to an unprecedented effort for their destruction. Connected with the barren steppes of the mainland of southern Russia only by the narrow strip of flat and sandy land, not five miles across, which constitutes the Isthmus of Perekop, the Crimea stretches out in a nearly southerly direction, in the form of a rhomboidal or diamond-shaped peninsula, about one-third the size of Ireland. At its western point is Cape Tarkhan; at its eastern, Kertch and Kaffa; and in the south, the bay, town, and fortress of SEBASTOPOL.

At least two-thirds of the Crimea consists of vast waterless plains of sandy soil, rising only a few feet above the level of the sea, and in many places impregnated with salt; but all along the south-eastern side of the peninsula, from Sebastopol to Kertch and Kaffa, there extends a chain of limestone mountains, the highest summit of which is the Chatir-Dagh, rising to somewhat more than five thousand feet in altitude. Beginning at Balaclava, nine miles east of Sebastopol,

VOL. XLIV.NO. CCLXIII.

precipices fringe all this south-eastern coast; but at the foot of these limestone precipices extends a narrow strip of ground, seldom half-a-league in width, intervening between the hills and the shore, and resembling on a large scale the under-cliff of the Isle of Wight. It is in this picturesque and delightful region that the Allied army has now established its base of operations. "A luxuriant vegetation descends to the water's edge. Chestnut trees, mulberries, almonds, laurels, olives, and cypresses grow along its whole extent. Numbers of rivulets of the clearest water pour down from the cliffs, which effectually keep off all cold and stormy winds. Thickly studded with villages, and adorned with the villas and palaces of the richest Russian nobles, this tract offers a most striking contrast to the remainder of the peninsula, or indeed to any other part of Russia.'

"

The possession of the Crimea, and the construction of a maritime fortress of the first order in the magnificent harbour of Akhtiar (for such was the former name of Sebastopol), were prominent parts of that vast scheme of policy by which the genius of the Czar Peter, and his successors, transformed Muscovy into the Russian Empire. The Tartar princes of the Golden Horn stil reigned in the delicious gardens of Bakshi-serai, under the titular supremacy of the Porte, when the political intrigues of Russia first penetrated into the peninsula; successive invasions followed; a protectorate was established by that very treaty of Kainardji, which Prince Menschikoff invoked in support of other demands; and a few years later the annexation of

2 M

the province was consummated. The Empress Catherine passed a night or two in the deserted palace of the Khans; and in preparing the future strength of Sebastopol, she might, with more truth than at Cherson, utter that proud boast, "Here lies the road to Byzantium." In course of time the Euxine became a Russian lake, owing to the magnitude of the naval forces assembled beneath the batteries of Sebastopol; the extensive plains of the Crimea provided copious and cheap supplies of food for the troops; while the absence of population and trade left the peninsula as a sort of natural fortress, which hardly attracted the notice of other countries.

The ever-memorable Expedition of the Allies, designed to wrench this fortress and fleet from the possession of the Czar, set sail from Varna in the first week of September. No naval expedition ever before equalled it. The renowned Spanish Armada is reported to have been numerous; but in those days there were no steamers of 3,500 tons, and sailing-ships of like burden, so that no comparison can be instituted. In the Bay of Baltjik, where the expedition first rendezvoused, the sea was literally covered for a space of eight miles long with splendid shipping. Thirty-seven sail of the line-ten English, sixteen French, and eleven Turkish, - about a hundred frigates and lesser vessels of war, and nearly two hundred of the finest steam and sailing transports in the world, lay at anchor, in one immense semicircle nine or ten deep. The great line-ofbattle ships, with lights gleaming from every port, looked like illuminated towns afloat; while the other vessels, with position-lights hoisted at the main and fore, shed a light upon the sea, twinkling away, until lost in the distance. Each Division of the army carried lights corresponding to the number of their division; and at night, when every ship, say 400 in number, was lighted up, the scene was of the most extraordinary and interesting description. The sailors called it "Regent-street," but Regent-street never showed so many lights since it was built. Con

stantinople, during the feast of Bairam, or the Feast of Lamps, described in Moore's poems, would have been a more worthy illustration.

On the 9th, leaving the expedition anchored off the Isle of Serpents at the mouth of the Danube, the Allied

commanders proceeded on a tour of inspection to the coasts of the Crimea, running along the shore from Kalamita Bay south-eastwards, as far as Balaklava. At the mouth of the Belbek they found an encampment of Russians, and the Caradoc, with the Allied Generals on board, ran so near the cliffs that the Russian officers were distinctly seen, telescope in hand, observing the newcomers; and on the English officers taking off their hats and bowing, the courtesy was duly returned. On the morning of the 11th, the Allied commanders rejoined the fleet, upon which the vast armada once more got under weigh on the 12th, they first sighted the shores of the Crimea; and at three P.M., next day, the whole fleet came to an anchor off the clean and wellbuilt little town of Eupatoria. To the south of the town were seen innumerable windmills; and several bathingboxes, gaily painted, along the beach, gave an air of Western civilisation to the place, despite the old Turkish minarets which peer above the walls. Four or five hundred Russian soldiers, in their long grey coats and caps, also sauntered along the shore. The Spitfire ran in to take soundings and examine the place; and an eyewitness on board gives the following graphic sketch of the coup-d'œil that presented itself: "As we passed the Russian quarter, drifting very slowly and sounding every minute, we had ample time and opportunity to admire the handsome gardens and houses which are near the sea. The balconies of the latter were crowded with ladies and gentlemen-Russians, of course-who, sitting in chairs, were laughing, chatting, and talking with a sang froid and good-humour which we were certainly at a loss to understand. Some of the gentlemen were in uniform, but the majority were in the plain morning-dress of London or Parisian society. The ladies were handsomely dressed, nearly all of them, however, in that peculiar melange of costume which prevails so much at this time of the year at Southend, Boulogne, or Margate. Some of them were eating cakes or fruit, pointing out the colossal line-of-battle-ships, thirty-seven of which were now in the bay, and occasionally laughing immoderately. The invasion had no terrors for them, though they seemed wrapped in astonishment at the enormous extent of the fleet."

Eupatoria having surrendered at