university without tone. But my position
was such that refusal of the royal grace
would have been looked upon as obstinacy.
I therefore accepted, and let myself be led
once more on to the long barred academic
chair. Then I obtained, besides other
signs of royal grace, the return of all my
papers, for which I had often begged in
vain."

Arndt's reinstalment was greeted with
joyful acclamations by the town of Bonn,
the Rhinelands, aye, of all Germany. He
resumed his lectures, which were attended
by enthusiastic audiences, who listened
with delight to his vigorous and animated
discourses.

His last years were spent quietly among
his family; he lived in a pretty house of
his own building, with a splendid view over
the Rhine towards the Siebengebirge. He
had married again, and this time his wife
was Marie Schleiermacher, sister of the
famous Schleiermacher, a brave, true
woman, who bore pleasure and pain nobly
with her noble husband.

Quietly, and without pain, Arndt passed
away on the 29th of January, 1860; he was
buried under a stately oak in a grave of his
own choosing. May the earth be light to
the good fighter! He had seen his people
sunk in deepest oppression; he had watched,
aided, and encouraged them in their revival.
Arndt, as we have said before, was a
monarchist, and he remained so through
all chances and changes; he had not even
an idea of theoretic republicanism; his ideal
was a united Germany, under a king or
emperor, with the smaller powers as vassals,
and this ideal he held to the last. He
often prayed that the time might at length
be at hand when the legend should be
fulfilled, and Barbarossa should awake from
his long sleep under the earth, break his
rocky grave, and call all Germany together
once more. As an indication whence he
looked for this regenerator may serve his
broadside, entitled Noch eine kleine
Ausgieszung in die Sündfluth, in which he
vindicated the Prussian claims to German
sovereignty. This, like all his political
tracts, was full of fiery eloquence, and,
scattered in hundreds of thousands over the
land, did more than aught else to awaken
the national consciousness of the Germans,
and to inflame popular indignation against
the French yoke. He has also left a goodly
volume of poems, not all of which are
political, though those are his best, possessing
that wonderfully powerful stir and swing
which lyrics must possess to become truly
popular and national. It is impossible to
read his verses without becoming infected
by his enthusiasm, and inspired by his
earnestness.

INDUSTRIAL EXHIBITIONS.

IT is unfortunate for the working-men
that their International Industrial
Exhibition at Islington should be contemporaneous
with the terrible war which has
broken out on the Continent. This is one
among the minor evils which spring from
war; the graver national miseries we do
not touch upon here. There might have
been more articles sent from the
Continent for exhibition if peace and industry
had continued to rule, and thereby more
facilities afforded for instituting comparison
between English handicraft and that
of foreign countries. Then, again, a period
of war excitement is not conducive to the
success of an exhibition in a financial sense.
When we are tempted by several editions
of the newspapers every day, each ushered
in by startling placards relating to the
scenes of war and the intrigues of diplomacy,
we are scarcely in the mood to
ramble quietly among objects of peaceful
industry, and to judge dispassionately of
the comparative merits of the various
articles displayed. Nay, the very word
international becomes distorted at such a
time; seeing that we cannot fail to be
indignant against some (at least) of the
nations which have plunged Europe into
the horrors of carnage and destruction.

And yet such an exhibition as that which
has been on view at the Agricultural Hall is
interesting in many points of view. It marks
one stage in a double inquiry—how far can
industrial exhibitions be made more and
more international, and how far can they
be planned and carried out by working-
men? Those who are old enough to have
participated in the gay doings of nineteen
years ago, will well remember the first
really Great Exhibition of all Nations, held
in Sir Joseph Paxton's palace of glass in
Hyde Park in 1851. Two years afterwards
two others were held, smaller in scale, but
analogous in character—one in Dublin, and
the other at New York. They were not
successful commercially, for reasons which
need not be traced here; but they
familiarised Ireland and America with the idea
of international industrial exhibitions. Then
came the imperial display at Paris in 1855,
still more extensive than that which Prince
Albert had been instrumental in forming
in Hyde Park four years before. This was
followed by our International Exhibition at