natural vivacity of character, amiable manners and ancient lineage, soon procured for him the notice of all the distinguished families in St. Petersburg. With the ardent temperament of youth, of high spirit, and the opportunities that noble birth and ample means afforded him, it is not to be wondered at that he plunged eagerly into that vortex of gayety and dissipation which renders the Russian capital so attractive to the provincial noblesse. There is no more dangerous ordeal, perhaps, for a youth to pass through, than that of Russian society. Ground down under the iron heel of a despotism which fetters not only the free expression of opinion, but which watches with the most jealous surveillance even the social intimacies of those whose antecedents afford any room for doubt, an entire abandonment to all the pleasures of the capital seems in St. Petersburg to be the only mode of disarming the lynxeyed vigilance of the authorities. Whether from a conviction of this fact, or from the natural liveliness of his disposition. Prince Leo seemed for several years to forget that there was any other purpose in life than that of enjoyment. His time appeared to be passed in one unvarying round of military duty and dissipation, and he was the last amongst the gay and volatile youths of the capital to whom a suspicion of any political leanings could apparently be attached.

This Sybarite career was, however, destined to be suddenly cut short. Jealous of such an uninterrupted course of good fortune, Fate rudely severed at a blow the silken tissue of this butterfly

existence.

At a late hour one night in the depth of winter, as the prince lay buried in sleep, a rough hand was laid on his shoulder, and he was summoned, in peremptory tones, to arise. He started to his feet, and found himself in the presence of the Chief of Police.

Pointing to some clothing that lay beside his bed, and which had been substituted for the full dress costume he had worn in the evening, the stern official ordered him to put it on, and to prepare for his instant departure. An earnest entreaty to know the grounds of this harsh proceeding, or at all events the place of his destination, was met by the usual reply of the Russian police, that it was their business to execute. and not to discuss the motives and intentions of the Emperor. Feeling that it would be useless to remonstrate further, the Prince at once attired himself and made hasty preparations for his journey. His heart sank within him at the terrible idea that VOL. II.-13

occurred to his mind, and which is the first to suggest itself to persons in his position. It was vain, however, to speculate, and he knew too well the nature of the decree of which he was the object to hope that any thing that he could say or do would alter his destiny. Seals having been placed upon his effects, including hereditary jewels to an immense amount, he was informed that he would only be permitted to take with him the few thousand roubles that he happened to have in his escritoire. He was then hurried to a drotsky that stood at the gate, and driven off rapidly on a route which relieved his mind from the apprehensions with which it had been at first assailed. On reaching the German frontiers he was liberated, and laconically informed that the Emperor had decreed his banishment from the Russian dominions, and that he ought to feel grateful to his majesty's clemency for not sending him to Siberia.

He

We must here pause in our narrative to reply to the obvious inquiry that arises in the minds of our readers, as to the motives that dictated this cruel and summary measure. To this day it remains without an explanation. We believe that the Prince himself is ignorant of the slightest grounds on which suspicion could be attached to his conduct. mixed himself up with no political intrigues, and avoided as much as possible being seen in the company of men who were thought to be suspectes. Like all the caprices of that inscrutable policy which affects not only the omnipotence, but the mysterious attributes of the Deity himself, the question seems destined to remain for ever unsolved.

Making his way to Berlin the exiled prince contrived to interest the Prince of Prussia in his favor, and an intimation was conveyed to him that the King had it in contemplation to bestow a pension upon him. He was beginning to get reconciled to his destiny, and to indulge even a hope that through the interference of the Prussian government his property in Russia might be restored to him, when the sun of his favor at court suddenly became overcast. He heard no more of his promised pension, and it was finally hinted to him by the Prince that his further stay in Berlin might be productive of inconvenience. On pressing for an explanation. he learned that the Russian ambassador had been making strong representations to the King as to the displeasure with which any interest testified in him would be held at the court of St. Petersburg. Feeling it useless to struggle against such powerful influences, he decided upon retiring either to England or the United

?

States, countries in which the iron hand of the despot could no longer reach him.

In London, in which for the present he ultimately resolved on fixing his residence, he found, if not the ease and courtly patronage which had been promised him at Berlin, at least the security and freedom which had been denied him in other countries. Living a retired life, owing to his straitened circumstances, and mixing but little with the fashionable circles of the metropolis, but little is known of his history and misfortunes, beyond the circle of his immediate acquaintances. To his

credit be it said, that no one can bear with more equanimity those petty annoyances with which fortune delights in harassing her quondam favorites.

Such is a brief sketch of the history of this descendant of a long line of warrior kings, who displayed, by the by, a greater average amount of virtue and patriotism than is to be found recorded of any other dynasty. Although the passionate energy of his appeal to feelings long since dormant, if not wholly extinct, in the Armenian breast may excite a smile in some, it is impossible not to feel moved at the recital of his misfortunes. There are some points of analogy, too, between his position and that formerly held by the present ruler of France, which remind us that however remote seem the chances of the political future, there are elements at work that may bring about the most improbable events. After all, why should not our Bond-street acquaintance find his Strasbourg and Boulogne on the shores of the Caspian? The man who invaded France with a live eagle and a dozen of champagne, eventually planted the one on the arc de Triomphe, and hob-nobbed the other in the halls of the Tuileries. We do not despair of seeing our little pretendant yet realizing the idea of the London manager, and astonishing the world under the title of Leo the Terrible.

*

Ivan Golovin, Prince of Howra, is the descendant of an ancient family, whose possessions, although not large, still placed them in a respectable position amongst the Russian nobility. More than usual pains were taken with his education, and his own habits of application and reflective turn of mind effectually seconded the views of those who directed it. Having early acquired a thorough knowledge of the classics, he applied himself to the study of the French, Italian, and German languages. As soon as he had mastered them, he solicited and obtained permission from the Emperor to travel. The results of his observations in other countries soon

convinced him, if indeed he had not previously arrived at that conclusion, that the whole system of government in Russia was based on a wicked and monstrous delusion. The comparison of the free institutions of England, with the debasing and iron despotism of his native land, so thoroughly disgusted him that he began to weigh the possibility of his returning to live under such a system. The fruits of his reflections were committed to writing almost without a purpose; he exhausted the whole question, and his new views appeared so conclusive to him, that he ultimately resolved upon committing them to the press. On announcing for publication his "Russia under Nicholas I.," a peremptory order was conveyed to him from St. Petersburg to withdraw the manuscript from the hands of the printer, and return home. The high-spirited young man returned a haughty refusal, and the consequence was the immediate and entire confiscation of his estates.

From that hour Ivan Golovin openly proclaimed his attachment to republican principles. He entered warmly into the theories that were beginning to sap the foundations of Louis Philippe's power, distinguished himself by a series of publications, directed principally against the iniquities of the Russian government, and formed personal intimacies with all the leading political characters who contributed to bring about the revolution of '48. Clear-sighted, sagacious, and moderate in his views, however, he shrank from the consequences that followed upon that catastrophe. Confining himself to literary pursuits, he ceased to take any active interest in the events that were passing around him. On the accession of Louis Napoleon to the throne, he felt that Paris was no longer a safe residence for him, and accordingly withdrew to Turin, where he established a journal advocating his peculiar views, and waging unceasing hostilities with the Russian Government. Owing to the medium in which it was published, (French,) the paper did not meet with sufficient support to justify its continuance. Its failure was the more to be regretted, as it displayed evidences of an earnestness and ability that might have rendered important services to the cause of popular freedom in Italy.

For the last year M. Golovin has been residing almost entirely in London, occupied in the preparation of a work, entitled L'Europe Despotique et Cossaque. For the consideration of the questions which its title implies, few men are better adapted, his enlarged views and varied acquirements rendering him fully competent to the task. Although a firm republican, he

with a blow, just in time to save my craft. The boat now swung round, in the grip of the Mississippi monster, and swung away from the shore by the bow, while the stern remained fastened by its line, which would reverse our position, and give the log a free berth to clear itself. But finding my boat would not come clear around, on account of its long "steering oar," I jumped upon the log to assist it out of the hole, by prying it a little. I had hardly touched the log when my boat came clear round, the tree floated off free without any further damage, and carried me along with it. I was now in a predicament, as I had no small boat wherewith I could get off the log, so I ordered the men to secure the flat, and one of them to run to the upper end of the eddy with a small line, and at the point where I thought I should' necessarily approach, to throw it to me. He did so, the log drifted within fifteen feet of the point, and had I known then what afterwards occurred, I could have swam ashore, cold as the season was. My man threw me the line, which I made fast to the root, but it was a small rope, inadequate to the task of holding an overgrown cotton-wood tree, and it snapped like a piece of thread, while the log receded farther and farther from the shore, when one end struck the outward current of the river, and the whole mass whirled round with the velocity of the fly-wheel of a steam-engine, and was then drawn out of the eddy into the furious current of the river, and was wafted away at the rate of four miles an hour. My men-and there were only two of them-when they saw I was carried away, endeavored to get the flat out of the eddy, and come to my relief. The boat was cast off, and drifted to the head of the whirling pool, but when she came to the line of the current and the eddy, having no person to guide her by the steering-oar, as the two men had as much as they could do to pull the "bow oars," she whirled right round, and was drawn back again into the eddy. I saw them make two turns in the whirling basin, and then tie up the craft, finding it impossible to get her into the stream. The current had now carried me off from the point into mid river, and I was fast driving into the bend on the right, and as I knew from former experience of its being a "hard setting bend," I expected I would come into the shore, where I could find a place to jump off the tree on to terra firma.

One of the most striking peculiarities of the Mississippi current is, that it never runs in the centre of its bed, but is cônstantly flowing diagonally across from one side to the other; the river being ex

tremely crooked, and the waters precipitated from the points to the bends, where the flatboatmen find it sometimes very difficult to keep their boats from being forced ashore, on the bend side of the stream, especially at the place where this diagonal current strikes from the shore point above; this place is called by the boatmen the "bite of the bend." Well, I naturally supposed my log would strike the shore near this place, in the bend on the right, as the current was driving me directly towards the shore. I watched the line of the drift, and began to make a resolution about at what point my log would strike, and ran my eye along the shore to try and discover some settler's cabin where I could hail for assistance. I could discover none; however, my log began to approach the shore very rapidly, but, as I could see no settlement on the banks, I began to consider the policy of leaving my bark, by jumping ashore in the wild woods, inhabited by all kinds of " varmints," as the backwoodsmen call the wild beasts, where I would be likely to spend the night. But it was not for me to decide; for, on approaching the bend shore, I found the "boils" kept me from touching the land, even had the fallen trees and brush which encumbered the banks allowed the log to approach sufficiently near. These "boils," as the boatmen call them, are immense upheavings of the moving waters, which rise with a convex surface, sometimes spreading out to near half an acre, and will whirl a loaded flatboat round like a top, frequently affecting the steerageway of a rapidly moving steamer, and producing those annoying eccentricities which the river pilots call "sheers," not unfrequently throwing the vessel suddenly off its course, and causing it to run headlong into the banks or on the sand-bars with a heavy concussion, to the great terror of the passengers, and danger of the craft. These boils are the largest and most annoying in the bends of the river, especially at the "bites" of the bends, where the diagonal thread of the current recoils from the shore. These boils, too, are very capricious, for sometimes they assist the current in driving the passing boat upon the shores, or snags with which they are hedged, especially should the boat be between the breaking up of the boil and the shore; of course the convex surface of the water being outside, it is something like rowing a vessel up hill in endeavoring to keep away from the shores. Then again these boils force the thread of the current out from the shore, and in this case it is as difficult to land a boat, as in the other to keep it from landing itself. But I am digressing,

having followed the thread of the current too closely, even into the philosophy of it, and neglected the thread of my yarn.

The name of the bend I was in was known as the Cypress Bend, from the immense trees of this species found along its shores, and I recollected that the next one below contained the cabin of a squatter well known to traders on the river as Johnny Gheeho; so I concluded to stick to the log until I should be driven into the next left hand bend, where I could hail his cabin for assistance, and from his house it would be only a mile or so to cross the bend by land, back to my boat, although some twelve miles round by the river. I clambered up and seated myself in the bifurcations of the roots, which made me a very comfortable arm-chair, and watched the passing shore. In my anxiety the current, though flowing at least four miles an hour, appeared more tardy than usual, while the declining sun seemed to descend faster towards the horizon than I ever beheld it. I cast my eyes anxiously down the bend to try and discover the right hand point, and the opening in the left hand bend below; but the bend in which I was appeared endless, in fact it is one of the largest and deepest on the Mississippi. The sun began to dip behind the cypress-trees before I was half way round the bend, and I began seriously to think I should have to spend the night on the log. I looked among the floating mass of drift-wood near me to try and discover a small log, or slab, upon which I could paddle myself along faster, or land when I saw a favorable opportunity. I saw none near-all were too small or full of branches. Just as the sun had disappeared below the impervious foliage of the cypress-trees, I observed a small "false point" in the bend, that is, a small projection resembling a point of the river bend, and which so frequently deceives the pilots in running of dark nights, when they are taken for real points, causing them to make their "crossings" before they ought, when they run their boats upon the sandbars opposite. I naturally thought my log would near this point, perhaps strike it, when I could jump on shore and then select a smaller one on which I could paddle along, and land myself at pleasure. I watched the floating drift, and saw it make directly towards this point, and soon my huge cotton-wood began to approach it. I descended from my seat to be ready for a spring; the small end of the tree began to point for the shore. I ran towards this end and clambered out on a projecting branch, ready for a leap. The current flowed swiftly. I alrea ly began to hear the noise of the little eddies

along the shore, and the rustle of the evening wind through the leaves, when the end of my tree entered the counter current, between the main current, or thread, and the shore. This whirled my log right round, as one end was travelling at the rate of five miles per hour, and the other in the counter current at about two miles. Presently the root end of my craft was brought round to the shore; I now ran towards this end as best I could, for the log was round, free of its bark, and slippery. I now had the satisfaction of seeing it going directly for the point, and I sought for a good position to spring ashore from one of the upper branches of the roots. But I was doomed to be disappointed, for on nearing the point the sunken branches of the root struck against a huge "cypress knee" about fifty feet from the bank, when the tree swung round, recoiled, then shot off from the point into the current again, when I found myself drifting away to near mid river. concussion was violent, and brought me headlong into the lower branches of the root, and partly into the water, scratching my right arm rather severely; but I clambered up again into my original position in the fork of the tree.

The

Night now began to approach, and I became rather melancholy. The stream was smooth, save where the huge boils bursted up with a rushing sound, and occasionally whirling my log around as if it were a reed. I cast my eyes constantly down the river, and thought the point would never appear. The shades of night began gradually to creep over the landscape, and I finally concluded that I would have to spend the night on the log. While watching the gradual disappearance of the sunlight, I heard the rushing sound of an approaching snag, and on looking down the stream I could just descry just descry it in the pale twilight close aboard, when suddenly my log struck it, and for a moment it resisted our further progress, and I really began to fear it would hold the tree in its stubborn grip, and refuse to let us pass; but it began gradually to sink beneath the weight of the huge cotton-wood, when the tree glided off, and the snag reared itself twenty feet in the air, swaying from one side to the other, like a savage monster recovering from a deadly struggle.

At last the long wished for point began to appear, and the left hand bend to open wider and wider. Presently I discerned smoke in the distance: my courage revived. I slowly began to near the point on the right, but the current instead of being driven over from the point into the left hand bend, as I thought it would, was