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tantism : in none was it so resolutely defended : in none has it been so completely and permanently extirpated. From that day to this, the whole country of John Huss and Jerome of Prague has lain prostrate in the most profound ignorance and bigotry; so much so, that when Joseph II. offered them freedom of political and religious opinion, they spurned it from them, and joined with the aristocracy in heaping on the too-liberal emperor those anxieties and mortifications which sunk him to an early grave. When he received the news that the people, and
especially the peasantry of Hungary and Bohemia, weré so stupid as to be incensed against him because he offered to make them freer and happier, he exclaimed, 'I must die! I must be made of wood, if I did not die!'-and his words were soon verified. Bohemia is a land of hereditary bondsmen, and it looks like
To these details of the horrors of “the thirty years' war," we may add a few particulars from Harte's Life of Gustavus Adolphus. “The famine," says this writer, “during the greater part of these wars kept pace with the pestilence. Wheat was sold, more times than once, for three pounds eighteen shillings á bushel. Guards were posted to protect the newly-buried from being devoured. There were instances of children being led away, massacred, and eaten up. Two women fought for a slice of a dead horse, and one killed the other. A straggling beggar decoyed away a poor woman's child, and began to strangle it, in order to eat it; but the vigilant mother surprised her in the act, and killed her. The face of the earth was ruined for want of agriculture; and every animal eatable was so greedily searched after, that the beasts of prey missed their daily food. When Lord Arundel passed through the empire, in return from his embassy to Vienna, a fox crept out of a brake, and seized one of his attendants by the leg. The man took it up, for it was so weak it could not escape; its eyes were haggard and sunk in its head, and it weighed next to nothing;” Truly—in the fine words of the great German poet, who, both in prose and verse, made “ the thirty years' war” his principal theme
But on some morrow morn, all suddenly
And the year's harvest is gone utterly!”.
“Oh day thrice lovely! when at length the soldier
Pity that such sentiments had not influenced the rulers and people of Germany before commencing the unholy struggle which we have been narrating! All that was gained, as has been shown, by thirty years of bloodshed and devastation, was the treaty of pacification which had been originally established by Charles V. in 1555. Germany had spent a century in vain. In 1648 it was farther back than it had been a hundred years before; and this hundred years it has not till the present day recovered.
It is true that, besides terms of pacification, the war produced a thorough social toleration in matters of religion. "No one was afterwards inclined to taunt or abuse another on account of difference of religious opinion or form of worship; but inasmuch as this toleration was achieved by wrong means, it led to an indifference which has enabled Prussia, Austria, and other powers to make religion a thing of mere civil polity. Let us, in conclusion, express a hope that, in any modern revival of religious differences in Germany, 'the people, as well as the government, will arrive at a settlement in the amicable spirit which “ the thirty years' war” impressed on the country. The recollection of that period of anarchy ought to be an indelible memento of the crime and folly of sectarian or any other
species of warfare,
DINBURGH, the capital of Scotland, occupies a picturesque but somewhat inconvenient situation on a cluster of eminences, at the distance of a mile and a half south from the Firth of Forthan arm of the sea, which is here
about six miles in breadth. The town has extended almost to the shore of the Firth, and has thus formed a connexion with Leith, the ancient port, Newhaven, a fishing village, and Granton, a modern and rising steamboat station. The country around Edinburgh is a happy blending of hill and plain. Closely adjoining, on the south-east, rise Arthur's Seat and Salisbury Crags; at the distance of three miles to the south-west is the range of the Pentland Hills; and within a mile on the north-west is the richly-wooded Corstorphine Hill. The rest of the neighbourhood consists of fine fertile fields, well cultivated, and ornamented with gardens and villas.
Twelve hundred years ago, Edwin, a king of Northumbria (to which this part of Scotland was then attached), built a fort on the rocky height on which the castle now stands, and hence arose the name Edwinsburgh, or EDINBURGH. In the Celtic language the name of the city is DUNEDIN, signifying the Hill of Edwin. From the castle, a town gradually extended on the top and sides of the ridge, which slopes downwards towards the east. Originally, and for several centuries, the city was confined entirely to this ridge or hill; and at this early period it was nearly surrounded by the waters of a lake. To add to this means of defence, it was environed by walls, of which some few relics, of different eras, still exist. Edinburgh was, therefore, at one time a fortified town, reposing under the shelter of the castle at its western extremity. This, however, did not protect it from aggression. In May 1544, it was attacked by an English army under the Earl of Hertford, who was despatched by Henry VIII. to ravage Scotland, in revenge for the Scots having refused to allow their young queen (Mary) to be allied to his son (Edward VI.) On this occasion Leith, with part of Edinburgh, was burnt; but the attempt to take or injure the castle was unsuccessful. 'In point of fact, the castle was never captured by absolute assault; but it surrendered, after a siege, on several occasions. The last time it was invested by an army was on the occasion of the city falling into the hands of the Highland army under Prince Charles Stuart in 1745;- but this force it successfully resisted. Since that period, now upwards of a century ago, its guns have happily not been fired except for military salutes.
In the twelfth century, David I., a pious and munificent Scottish monarch, founded the abbey of Holyrood, in the low ground eastward from the city; he at the same time empowered the monks or canons of this religious house to found a burgh in a westerly direction up the slope towards Edinburgh; and thus was built the CANONGATE, a suburb now in intimate union with the city—the whole apparently forming one town. In connexion with Holyrood there also sprung up a royal palace, which became a favourite place of residence of the Scottish sovereigns. Not, however, until the era of the murder of James I. at Perth, in 1436-7, did Edinburgh become the distinctly recognised capital of the kingdom. Neither Perth nor Scone, Stirling nor Dunfermline, being able to offer security to royalty against the designs of the nobility, Edinburgh and its castle were thence selected as the only places of safety for the royal household, for the sittings of parliament, for the mint, and the functionaries of government. Rising into importance as some other places sunk, Edinburgh became densely crowded with population; and hampered by surrounding walls, within which it was thought necessary to keep, for the sake of protection, its houses rose to a great height. Excepting the single open street extending from the castle to Holyrood, every morsel of ground was covered with houses, forming thickly-packed closes or alleys, descending on each side from the central thoroughfare. Thus originated those lofty edifices which usually surprise strangers. In front, towards the High Street, they range from five to seven storeys; but behind, towards the sloping fanks of the hill, they are considerably higher, and rising one above another, produce an exceedingly picturesque effect.
The first thing which the inhabitants seem to have done to emancipate themselves from this confinement, was to drain the morass or lake lying in the hollow on the south ; and here were built extensions (now known as the Grassmarket and Cowgate), which were occupied by many of the higher classes. In times much more recent, these extensions spread over the rising ground
still more to the south; and with this latter improvement, the citizens remained contented till about the middle of the eighteenth century. The cause for this slow progress was the injury which Edinburgh sustained from the union of Scotland with England in 1707. Until that event, it was the resort of royalty, and of the nobility and commons who constituted the Scottish parliament. Although, by the treaty of union, Scotland retained its peculiar institutions, laws, and courts of judicature all having their central organisation in Edinburgh-there was sustained a serious loss in the final withdrawal of the sovereign and officers of government. The merging of the Scottish parliament in the British Houses of Lords and Commons was felt to be a fatal blow; and this disaster, as it was thought to be, Edinburgh. did not recover till the country in general took a start, consequent on the failure of the rebellion of 1745, the abolition of the heritable jurisdictions (feudal oppressions) in 1748, and the opening of trade with the American colonies. Agriculture now began to receive attention, Glasgow rose into importance, and Edinburgh, sympathising in the movement, became the seat of various banking institutions, which imparted life and vigour to
About the year 1760, the necessity for extending the town became pressing
Between the years 1763 and 1769 was erected a lofty bridge, connecting the old city with the fields on the porth, on which the New Town was already beginning to be built.' Before 1780 the New Town had covered a third of the ground designed for it; and since that period, it has been gradually extending northwards, westwards, and eastwards. last principal extension was the opening of a new road eastwards from Princes Street by Waterloo Place, along the face of the Calton Hill, in 1819. In the execution of the North Bridge and New Town, it was found desirable to drain the lake (North Loch) lying in the hollow, which required to be crossed. Unfortunately, the improvers of that day did not stop here, but committed the irremediable and now much-lamented error of throwing the rubbish from the foundations of the new houses into the centre of the valley, so as to form what is termed the Earthen Mound-a pile of materials answering the purpose of a bridge.
In proportion as the New Town arose, so did the Old Town suffer a desertion of its more respectable inhabitants. In the present day, it is occupied almost exclusively by the humbler orders, and by tradesmen. About the year 1825-6, a series of improvements were planned, and begun to be carried into execution, with a view to rescue the Old Town from what appeared impending ruin. These so-called improvements have cost the inhabitants, by general
taxation, about £340,000, a large portion of which has been squandered on buying and pulling down houses ; while, except the erection of a bridge across the Cowgate,