who seem to combine the filth and poverty of Erin with the half-savage wildness of our border Indians, and almost mob the traveller, as they cluster, with haggard features and pleading outcries, about his tired mule, unawed by the threats of the guide. Perhaps Theocritus was inspired by the landscape of Sicily, to describe the charms of pastoral life, on account of the refreshing contrast between the sterility of the mountains and the fertile beauty of the valleys; for it is seldom that the traveller experiences a more pleasing transition than that from the sandy tracks of the coast of this island, the stunted furze of a reach of moorland, or the rocky channel of a torrent, and one of the broad teeming vales that suddenly burst upon the eye, with every shade of green, from the grey tint of the olive to the vivid hue of newly-sprung grain. The change instantly awakens Arcadian dreams, and fills the imagination with those rural images which bards of all time have consecrated. Nature is not only bountiful to Sicily, but seems to indulge there in a kind of luxurious caprice; so that the naturalist, as well as the poet, enjoys a rare and varied feast. Wild flowers so numerous that the most assiduous botanist of the island has not yet completed their nomenclature, deck with the richest colors, hill-side and glen. In the dry beds of mountain streams is found the purest amber. Papyrus grows on the banks of the Anapus. Over the Straits of Messina, after the sunset of mid-summer, there sometimes hover the most singular forms, some quiescent, and others moving with the greatest rapidity. This occurs after both sea and air have subsided from extreme agitation to entire repose; and this kind of mirage is one of the most curious of ærial phenomena, enchanting the fanciful, while it baffles the scientific. On some of the mineral springs floats a remarkably sanative oil; and an odoriferous salt, at some points of the beach, fills the air for miles with exhilarating perfume. The strata of the hills is composed of the richest and most variegated marble. The honey of Hybla has the delicate zest of embalmed flowers. Tortoises bask on the sunny tide; porcupines bristle in the thickets; grey oxen, with enormous horns, drag home the vintage on rude cars; in the Faro, congregate every specious of fish, from the delicious spada to the relishing sardine. Agate and lava from the soil, of every conceivable tint, are wrought into ornaments. Small grey donkeys wind down the rough path from Girgenti to the sea, with two large cakes of sulphur, fresh from the inexhaustible mines, rudely swung over their backs; and groups of swarthy fisherman, at Trapani, land millions of tunny-fish in their capacious nets. The green fly, exported under the name of cantharides, and the most productive silkworms, feed on the leafy trees. Orange and lemon groves cluster about the villas; enormous aloes and Indian-figs line the road-side; vines dangle over treliss and wall; and woods of cork alternate with tracts of yellow broom, such as Shakspeare says

"The dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-lorn."

The neighborhood of the sea, the presence of volcanic agencies, the extremes of heat and cold, the excessive rains of winter and droughts of summer-the intense sirocco and copious freshets, occasion remarkable atmospheric vicissitudes and electric phenomena. The climate of Sicily is as rich in variety as its soil in products and its inhabitants in character. There are days of early spring positively overwhelming by their splendor. Life palpitates as if germinating anew. A world of pleasurable sensations, for the moment, renders mere existence a felicity. In the rainy season, on the contrary, the animal spirits are repressed to an even mood; and while the sirocco prevails, utter languor-a kind of conscious death, prostrates the

frame. Meteorology can be studied to great advantage on such an island; and perhaps there is no better site for an observatory in the world than Etna. It has been noticed that the alternations of the barometer are greater and more rapid here than in many places of the same latitude; and electricity is more rapidly developed. The thunder-storms of Sicily often equal in grandeur those of the tropics. The variety and humid warmth of the air, or the abundance of electric fluid, certainly have a marked effect upon the health of invalids. Judicious observation could discover a genial residence for almost every species of valetudinarian, in some part of the island. The functions of nature are more easily carried on than in more northern regions; and there is an obvious difference in this respect, even between Sicily and the continent. Not only do "peasants bring forth in safety," but the most fashionable ladies of Palermo are "themselves again" in a space of time almost incredibly brief.

But the productiveness of Sicily finds its best exponent in Etna. From the snows which crown the summit, the essential summer luxury both of this island and Malta-to the repeated crops of grain that wave at its base, this extraordinary mountain supplies all intermediate necessities-all the drugs and the dainties for human need. On its volcanic sides, formed of the decomposed lava of centuries, the grape yields its rarest juices. Rice, cane, hemp, and the fruits of the south, there flourish luxuriantly. Higher up, beneath more recent lava, mercury, nitre, alum and vitriol abound. Thus the chestnut-woods of Etna afford game and fuel, the springs healing waters, the soil pavement for cities, medicaments for the infirm, spices to warm, snow to cool, flax for the loom and wine for the banquet; while the rosy hues that gather at evening around the cone, the fitful blaze that streams upward from its depths against the midnight sky, and the simple grandeur of the mountain itself, with the thought of its destructive energies, its fertile bounty-the beautiful and terrible associations of its name, render Etna one of the exhaustless wonders of the universe.

At Nicolosi, the last village you leave on ascending the mountain, dwells Dr. Gemmelaro, the modern Empedocles or philosopher of Etna, who, for many years, has sedulously observed its phenomena, recorded its eruptions, gathered specimens from its splintered sides, and watched its wayward operations with a mingled feeling of curiosity and affection. Revered by the peasants for his learning, and gratefully remembered by travellers for his urbanity, the worthy doctor recounts the feats and speculates on the possible destinies of Etna, in the spirit of a Monkbarns and Sir Humphrey Davy combined. Indeed, his real love of science becomes amusing in connection with so decided a virtuoso disposition. His recluse life is consoled by this perpetual vigil. He actually seems to feel a kind of responsibility on behalf of the ancient volcano; to him it is a magnificent hobby! He registers the names of all visitors, and has a list of those, who, for many years past, have ascended to the crater. We were astonished to find how distinctly he remembered the few Americans enrolled in his album. An hour's gossip with Gemmelaro is a significant part of the excursion. He will show rare crystals or exquisitely colored pumice gleaned in his walks, point out on a map the topography of Etna, give the dates and particulars of each eruption, traditions, anecdotes and travellers' tales; and wind up with sage advice as to the best course to pursue in the arduous undertaking before you; so that, if your object be to see the sun rise from that lofty height, you go forth from the old man's cottage, beneath the stars, and wind amid the huge masses of black lava, through skeletons of trees, over crackling fragments—on and on, seeing always before you the broad, white cone, and ever and anon, a sudden flash that glitters on the snow and lights up the ebon sea around;--your mind all the while revolving the wonderful fables, and more wonderful facts,

which make Etna so prolific a theme to the scholar, naturalist and poet. But this picturesque and exuberant nature is often wholly disenchanted by the squalid and debased condition of humanity. It seems as if the law were inmutable which decrees that necessity and opposition alone shall achieve the triumphs of civilization. The signification of comfort is almost as unknown in the life of the luxuriant and beautiful south, as is the word to the dulcet vocabulary of the people. After a day's lonely wayfaring in a jolting lettiga, or on a hard mule, the traveller finds himself in a small room, whose brick floor and stone walls are stained with dirt, and the atmosphere redolent of garlic and smoke. He sits down half-famished to a frugal supper of baked kid or rabbit, broiled olives, salad of wild-asparagus, roasted chestnuts and thin wine, and retires, overcome with fatigue, to be tormented until day-break by millions of industrious fleas. Yet the first breath of the pure morning air, wafted from sea or mountain, revives his fevered pulses; and a scene of verdure or wildness-the dewy flax-bosoms, like little tearful blue eyes; the thatched encampment of cheese-makers or carbonari, with its curling vapor and wilddogs; or a flock of goats, with their shepherd, studding a wide range of barren country, beguile him to pleasing reverie, There is a singular melancholy in a pilgrimage like this. Beauty and anguish, fruitfulness and privation, are constantly seen in such intimate contact, that personal discomfort is often forgotten in reflection and sympathy.

But a few years ago, when our fleet in the Mediterranean, in search of more desirable winter anchorage than Mahon, sojourned in the excellent harbor of Syracuse, a deputation of patriots waited upon the American commodore, and offered to deliver Sicily to his country, if he would cruise between the island and the main, after they had expelled the Neapolitan troops. The strict neutrality which, since the days of Washington, and with his judicious sanction, has marked our foreign policy, forbade entertaining the proposition; but a philanthropic imagination might easily conjure up a delightful picture from the bare idea of such an annexation, as he fancies how richly the dormant resources of nature and the perverted capacities of man would awaken, in that fertile region, under a free, intelligent, and enterprising go

vernment.

THE INDEPENDENCE OF THE JUDICIARY.*

THE framers of our Constitution, with a prudent regard for the interests of posterity, wisely ordained the independence of the judiciary. They deemed it essential to the permanency of the government, and the equal dispensation of justice. To prevent intrigue and venality in the election of judges, their appointment was vested in the President, subject to the confirmation of the Senate. That they might be uninfluenced by popular opinion, but decide between man and man in accordance with the unbiassed convictions of judgment, dishonesty was made the only sufficient cause of their removal. From this system no injurious consequences have resulted; and under its operation, with few exceptions, which are incident to every human

*This communication, from an able source, is not in strict accordance with the views entertained by the Review upon the subject, as is well known to our readers; but as we are by no means opposed to discussion upon any subject in which the general good is involved, we give it a place We may state briefly that our correspondent falls into a common error of confounding independence with irresponsibility-an error arising from English habits. Under a monarchy, it was necessary that judges should be "independent" of the crown, the appointing power. It does not, therefore, follow that in a republic, where there is no dangerous executive, that the judges should be "irresponsible" to the people.

system, and not specially chargeable upon this, civil liberty and the rights of property have been sacredly guarded. The citizen, persecuted by private malice, and prejudged by public opinion, has sought and found refuge within the sanctuary of law, where the impartial judge has defined its precepts and instructed juries in their application. The American bench will gain honor by a comparison with that of any nation, whether' of ancient or of modern times. Its spotless purity is conspicuous even in our own country, and the integrity of a judge has passed into a proverb. For a few years a disposition for change, both as it regards his tenure of office and mode of election, has been manifested in a portion of the community. It has been advocated in some of the popular journals and periodicals, and introduced into the constitutions of some of the recently organized states, and into those of some of the older states which have been recently revised. To estimate the results of this change is impossible. That it would be both impracticable and dangerous if introduced into other nations, none will deny; and it may reasonably be doubted whether society has arrived in the United States to that degree of perfection which will admit of it. A great statesman has well said, "Change is not Reform;" and he might with equal truth have added, that when any institution of government confers manifest benefits upon the community over which it extends, and no evils of importance result from it, it is dangerous to alter materially its organization. This principle is easily susceptible of broader application, and should be practically observed in every social as well as political action. It is a general law of nature, that the same labor cannot be performed in two different ways with equal excellence and despatch. When any change is proposed in a system, it is incumbent on its advocate to prove, not only that as now constituted there are evils resulting from the system, but that they will be remedied by the change. If it has no evils, no change is required, and may be injurious. If it has evils, and the change will not remedy them, it will be more likely to increase than diminish them. The advocate of a judiciary, elected by the people, and of a limited tenure, must prove, not only that as now constituted it is faulty or extremely liable to abuses, but that the change which he proposes would remedy them. Have these propositions been proved?

The judge is and should be set apart as the consecrated minister of justice, to whom the innocent may fly for remuneration for past, and protection from future injury. When a case is brought before him, he must not ask what does the community think of its merits, but what is the right in it; and that ascertained, he must decide accordingly. He is accountable to the people in one respect, and in one only; he is accountable to them for a faithful and honest discharge of his duties. However the legislator may be bound to pass laws in obedience to the expressed will of his constituents, no such obligation rests upon the judge. By no means is he bound to interpret laws in obedience to popular opinion. He must interpret them as his own honest and unbiased judgment shall direct. The moment any other influence operates upon him, that moment he ceases to be the uniform guardian of personal rights, and becomes a ready instrument of oppression and misrule. While the accountability of rulers to the people is made a fundamental article of our political faith, let us not trespass upon the sanctuary of justice.

The independence of the judiciary was regarded as the great bulwark of personal liberty by the fathers of our republic. A collection of their opinions upon this question would be highly instructive, but would transcend the limits of this article. Let one suffice. In a letter to the Justices of the Supreme Court, President Washington thus writes:

"Gentlemen: I have always been persuaded that the stability and success of the national government, and consequently the happiness of the people of the United States, would depend in a considerable degree on the interpretation of its laws. In my opinion, therefore, it is important that the judiciary system should not only be independent in its operation, but as perfect as possible in its formation."

By some the judiciary is regarded as a monarchical feature in our constitution, but with a moment's reflection this opinion must vanish. Like every other political institution in a republican government, it is founded upon the will of the people. They elect the officers of the government, to whom they delegate the power of appointing judges, upon the same principle that they delegate to them any other power. That they had the right to confide this power to their representatives, none will deny; that their confidence in this respect has been abused, few will maintain. Although the present mode of their appointment is not perhaps necessary in order to secure their independence, yet there are reasons why it is preferable to the popular mode.

In the first place, the latter would be impracticable. No reasons can be given why the judicial, any more than the minor executive officers, should be elected in this manner. In a republic as extensive as ours, the ramifications of the executive power must be so numerous, that were all the of ficers elective, the citizens could do little else than frequent the polls. This will always be an abundant reason why the president should be a statesman of tried integrity and acute discrimination in judging of personal qualifications. Such a character an American president is presumed to have. His nominations are subject to the ratification of the Senate, which the past history of the country shows has not been averse to exercising its power of rejection. If the time should ever come when these two departments of the government, filled by individuals elected at short intervals, shall become corrupt, and therefore unfit to be the depositories of this patronage, it will be a time when neither constitutions and laws will be of little value in promoting the virtue and preserving the good order of society. Nor need any danger be apprehended that the executive and legislature will become leagued with the judiciary, if the election of the latter is vested in the former. If the judges were appointed for life, they would immediately become independent upon their appointment. As the coincidence would rarely occur when there would be a vacancy on the bench, and when the executive and legislature would have a favorite project of doubtful constitutionality in view, for effecting which it would be necessary for them to obtain the co-operation of the judiciary, and as the term of office prescribed to the former is limited, they would have a much stronger motive for appointing efficient than imbecile judges. If it is objected against this mode of election, that while it is practised the cabinet and the legislative hall may be treasuries from which intrigue and corruption can obtain ample rewards, it is replied, that the same reason might be urged against it in any case, and against the popular mode with additional force, since it must be presumed that the people will elect for their rulers their most virtuous and intelligent All experience has shown that intrigue and corruption will be more successful amongst a large than a small number of persons. If it be urged against this mode, that while it exists honest and capable judges cannot be selected, because generally but very few members of the legislature will be personally acquainted with the qualifications of the judge, the same may be more strongly urged against a popular mode, since its members (still presuming them to be the most virtuous and intelligent portion of the community) will have a more extensive acquaintance than a

men.