BLACKWOOD'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. NO. CCCCIV. JUNE, 1849. VOL. LXV. CONTENTS. THE CAXTONS.--PART XIII. 637 THE ROMANCE OF RUSSIAN HISTORY, 664 LETTERS TO THE REV. CHARLES FUSTIAN, AN ANGLO-CATHOLIC, 679 AUSTRIA AND HUNGARY, 697 FEUDALISM IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY, 713 CIVIL REVOLUTION IN THE CANADAS, 727 DIES BOREALES. NO. I. CHRISTOPHER UNDER CANVASS, 742 INDEX, 768 EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET; AND 37, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. _To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed._ SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH. BLACKWOOD'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. NO. CCCCIV. JUNE, 1849. VOL. LXV. THE CAXTONS.--PART XIII. CHAPTER LXVI. St Chrysostom, in his work on The Priesthood, defends deceit, if for a good purpose, by many Scriptural examples; ends his first book by asserting that it is often necessary, and that much benefit may arise from it; and begins his second book by saying that it ought not to be called _deceit_, but "good management." Good management, then, let me call the innocent arts by which I now sought to insinuate my project into favour and assent with my unsuspecting family. And first I began with Roland. I easily induced him to read some of the books, full of the charm of Australian life, which Trevanion had sent me; and so happily did those descriptions suit his own erratic tastes, and the free, half-savage man that lay rough and large within that soldierly nature, that he himself, as it were, seemed to suggest my own ardent desire--sighed, as the careworn Trevanion had done, that "he was not my age," and blew the flame that consumed me with his own willing breath. So that when at last--wandering one day over the wild moors--I said, knowing his hatred of law and lawyers-- "Alas, uncle, that nothing should be left for me but the bar!--" Captain Roland struck his cane into the peat, and exclaimed, "Zounds, sir, the bar and lying, with truth and a world fresh from God before you!" "Your hand, uncle--we understand each other. Now help me with those two quiet hearts at home!" "Plague on my tongue! what have I done?" said the Captain, looking aghast. Then, after musing a little time, he turned his dark eye on me and growled out, "I suspect, young sir, you have been laying a trap for me; and I have fallen into it, like an old fool as I am." "Oh, sir, if you prefer the bar!--" "Rogue!" "Or, indeed, I might perhaps get a clerkship in a merchant's office?" "If you do, I will scratch you out of the pedigree!" "Huzza then for Australasia!" "Well, well, well," said my uncle, "With a smile on his lip and a tear in his eye;"