1 830.] The French Revolution of July, 1 830. 263 



undergo none. But France is probably in the progress to other and more 

 important changes. The continent is ready for change, but time must 

 elapse before the revolutionary material can be wrought into the revolu- 

 tionary thunderbolt; we have no desire to see that tremendous remedy for 

 political evils resorted to in any country ; but in England we cannot 

 discover the slightest use for it, nor the slightest probability of its being 

 begun by the people : if it be begun by others, woe be to them ; let the 

 example of the Polignacs be before their eyes, and let them see the fate 

 of treachery to the people and bad advice to the king ! 



In our narrative we have mentioned that Lafitte's interview with 

 Marmont was on Wednesday. It took place on Thursday a short time 

 before the attack on the Tuilleries. 



The number of killed and wounded had been variously reckoned 

 from 1,000 to 10,000. The last return from the hospitals gives nearly 

 1,700 wounded. But this does not include the people and soldiery 

 conveyed to the private houses. Nor has there been any known 

 reckoning of the dead; numbers of whom were conveyed down the 

 Seine in barges, or buried hastily in the environs. In all details of this 

 hurried nature there must be errors, but the French owe it to themselves 

 to give an exact and authentic statement of the memorable 27th, 28th, 

 and 29th of July the three day s of their triumph to Europe, and 

 to Posterity ! 



A SERIES OF STANZAS ON TOBACCO. 



No. I. 



FRIEND of the friendless, philanthropic weed ! 



On rich and poor alike thy balm bestowing-, 



In humble clay, or richest hookah glowing, 

 Blest be thy tillage, fruitful be thy seed ; 

 In happier days from all vile duty freed ! 



Light be the turf upon the honoured grave 



Of him who bore thee o'er the Western wave ; 

 Deathless in fame, if this his only deed ! 

 Immortal RALEIGH ! were Potatoes not, 



Could grateful Ireland e'er forget thy claim ? 

 " Were all thy proud historic deeds forgot," 



That blend thy memory with Eliza's fame ; 

 Could England's annals in oblivion rot, 



TOBACCO would enshrine and consecrate thy name ! 



No. II. 



Let Eastern nightingales, as poets sing, 

 " Die of a rose in aromatic pain ;" 

 Let Moore take up the imitative strain, 



And deck with Persian flowers his dulcet string ; 



It sickens me to read of endless Spring, 



And flowers that seem alike to bud and blow, 

 Beneath the Summer's sun and Winter's snow, 



Heaping their sweets on Zephyr's weary wing. 



