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/P/»«3'-^\.\>i -^ ;^!,,-^

THE

FOREIGN

QUARTERLY REVIEW

\

VOL. XVII.

PUBLISHED IN

APRIL, M. DCCC. XXXFI.

AND

JULY, M. DCCC. XXXVI.

LONDON:

BLACK AND ARMSTRONG, 2, TAVISTOCK STREET;

ADOLPHUS RICHTER & Co.

(LATE TRKUTTEL AHD WURTZ, AND RICHTER,)

30, SOHO SQUARE.

1836.

9 l^B. 3

\ 1 A ^

LIRHARY

C. ROWORTH AKD SONS, B»LL TARO,

TBMPLR BAH. ,

0

o'

/J

'

\^

\

\
1

CONTENTS

OF

N». XXXIII.

fAGB.

Abt« I. Reise ^^ Cbilei Peru, und 9uf dem Amazoneos^romej wab«

rend der Jahre 1827—1832. Voo Sdwariji Poeppig . 1

II. I. Lex Romana Borgundionam : es Jure Romano et
Gennanioo illustravit A. F. Barkow.

2. Corpus Legqpi^ aive Bracbylqgiw Juris Civilis. Edidit

Kduardus Bockiug.

3. Lex Dei, sive Mosaicarum et RomaDarum Legum

CoUatio. Edidit Fridericus Blume.

4. Dissensioues DomiDorum, sive Controversial veterum

Juris Roinani Interpretum qui Glossatores vocantur.
Edidit Gustavus Haenel • . 48

in. 1. Istoria d' Italia di Messer Francesco Guicciardini, a
iniglk>r lezione ridotta, dal Professore Giovanni
Rosini.

2. Storia d' Italia, continuata da quella del Guiociardini

sino al 1789, di Carlo Botta.

3. Annali d* Italia dal 1750 al 1819j compilati da A,

Coppi, in contiuuazione di quelli del Muratori . . 60

'^jtTf^^y^lY* ^* Roman de la Violette^ par Gibert dc Montreuil.

Public par F. Michel.

2. Roman d'Eustache le Moine. Public pour la premiere

fois, par F. Michel.

3. La Riote du Monde. Le Roi d'Angleterre et le

Jongleur d'EIy.

4. Tristan : Recueil de ce qui reste des Poi^mes relatifs a

ses Aventures. Public par F. Micbel . • . • • 97

ii CONTENTS.

ART. FAOK.

V. Moiiumens de TEgypte e* de la Nubie. D'apres les
Dessins executes sur les Lieux^ sous la direction de
ChampoUioD-le-JeuDe. Publics sous les auspices de M.
Tbiers et M. Guizot, par une Commission Speciale, • 110

VI. Tragedie di Giovanni Battista Niccolini 121

VIL Histoire des Francs. Par M. le Comte de Peyronnet . 139

VIII. Pbilosophie de THistoire Naturelle^ ou Phenomenes de
['Organisation des Animaux et des Vegetanx. Par
J.J.Virey 156

, r^ , IX. 1. Histoire des Croisades. Par M. Micbaud, de TAca*
^ ^^ \J . damie Fran^aise.

* "^^ ^ ] 2. Correspondance d'Orient, 1830 et 1831. Par M.
(oU^*^'x^ ^/.- ^'^'^Michaud etM. Pouioulat . » 176

' X England im Jahie 1835. Von Fiiedrlch von Raumer. .219

XI. 1. Bericbt iiber eine Reise nacb den Westlicben Staaten
Nord-Amerikas. Von Gottfried Duden.
2. Europa und Deutscbland von Nord-Amerika aua bc-

tracbtet. Von Gottfried Duden 217

t
I

XLL Gescbicbte der k. k. Hofbibiiotbek zu Wien. Von

Ig. Fr. Edlen von Mosel 221

XIII. Des Meisters Godefrit Hagen, der Zeit Stadtscbreibers^

Reimcbronik der Stadt Coin aus dem dreizebnten Jabr-
bandert. Herausgegeben von E. von Groote . . . 225

XIV. Le Monde comme il est. Par le Marquis de Custine . 228

XV. Tbe Portfolio ; or a Collection of Sute Papers illustra-
tive of tbe History of our Times. Reviewed by Dr.
C. F. Wurm 232

Miscellaneous Literary Notices, No. XXXIII., from France, Ger-
many, Norway^ Russia, Spain, — Oriental Literature . 236

List of tbe Principal New Works publisbed on tbe CoBtineat, from

January to March, 1836> inclusive «.»«•• 248

CONTENTS

OF

N«. XXXIV.

PAOC.

AiiT. I. 1. VorleUter Wellgaog von Semilasso. Aus den Pa-
pieren de& Verstorbenen.
2. CoDTersations-Lexicon der neuesten Zeit und Litte-

ratur, Voce " Puckler-Muskau." 253

II. De rEducation dmUbm de Famille, on de la Civilisa-
tion du Genre Hnmain par les Femmes. Par L.
Aim^-Martin . 272

III. 1. Le Roman da Renart, public d*apr^ lea Manuscrits /y.^
j^.^ ^ ,• * « de 1<^ Biblioth^ne du Roi. Par M. D. M. Meon. /.

2. Le Roman du Renart, Supplement^ Variantes* et Cor-

rections. Publie d'apr^s les Manuscrits de la Biblio-
tb^que du Roi et de la Bibliotb^que de I'Arsenal.
Par P. Chabaille.

3. Reinardus Vulpes. Ad fidem Codd. MSS. edidit et

adnotationibus illustravit Frandscus Josepbus Mone.

4. Reinard Fucbs. Von Jacob Grimm 286

IV. I. M6moires sur le Consulat de 1799 h 1804. Par an

ancien Conseiller d*Etat.
2. Le Consulat et TEmptre, on Histoire de la France et
de Napoleon Bonaparte de 1799 it 1815. Par A. C.
Tbibaudeau, Auteur des Memoires sur le Consulat . 317

/

II C0NTRNT8.

PACiB.

Art. V. 1. Collection de Docanients iiiedits sur THistoire de

France, publics par ordre du Roi. Rapports au Roi
et Pieces.

2. Collection, &c. Premiere Serie^ Uistoire Politique.

Journal des Etats Generaux de France, tenas h
Tours en 1484, i4dife en Latin par Jeban Masselin ;
public et traduit par A. Bemier.

3. Collection, &c. Premiere Serie. Negociations relatives

k la Succession d*£spagne sous Louis XIV. ; avec
Texte bistorique et une Introduction, par M. Mignet 362

VI. Briefe an Jobann Ucinricb Merck, von Gotbe, Herder,
Wieland, und andern bedeiUenden Zeitgenossen. Ue-
rausgegeben von Dr. Karl Wagner 391

VII. Marie Tudor, Drame en trois journees, en proae. Par

Victor Hugo 417

VIII. Storia della Letteratura Italiana,del Cavaliere Abate Gui-

seppi MaflFei 428

IX. 'Erinnen»iga«Skizzen, aus Russland, der Turkei, und

Griecbenland. Von Legationsratb Tietz . . . .457

X. 1. La Battagiia di Benevento. Dal Dottore F. D.
Guerazzi.

2. La Madonna cf Irobevere. Di Cesare Canti^.

3. Giovaona Prima, Regina di NapoK.

4. Scene Ihtoricfae dd Medio Bvo d' Italia 472

XI. Oe Paris k Naples, Etudes de Moeurs, deMarin» et d*Art.

Par A. Jal 482

Miscellaneous Literary Notices, from Denmark, France, Germany,

Italy and Rusaia . 490

List of tbe Principal New Works published on the Continent from

April to June inclusive 499

Index to tbe Seventeenth Volume 503

THE

FOREIGJ>r

QUARTERLY REVIEW

Art. L' — Reise in Chile, Peru,und auf dem Amazonemtrome,
wakrend der Jahre, 18^7 — 1832. Von Edward Poeppig.
(Travels in Chili and Peru, and on the River Amazons, in the
years 1827—1832.) 2 Vol. 4to. with Atlas of l6 plates.

After the numerous volumes which have been published within
these few years relative to the several countries of South Ame-
rica, the appearance of two quartos, containing between 900
and 1000 closely printed pages, might justly excite some doubts
of the propriety of drawing so largely on the titne and patience
of the reader, perhaps we should say of the reviewer, as the
reader may, but the reviewer must, peruse the books set before
him* It IS certainly true that, since those vast regions threw off
their allegiance to the mother country, numerous European
visiters have resorted to them, a few attracted by curiosity and
love of science, and more by hope of gain ; and that many of
them have published reports of their observations and discoveries.
But, without discussing the greater or less degree of merit of
these works, it may be observed that none of the authors made a
long residence in the countries visited by Dr. Poeppig, in a
purely scientific view, and that some, having passed only a few
weeks there, could neither penetrate into the interior and the less
frequented parts, nor even acquire a sufficient insight into what
came more immediately under their notice. But longer experi-
ence, as our author justly remarks, often causes us to see things
in 8 different point of view, and at the end of the year we might,
perhaps, gladly disavow the opinion which we suffered to escape
us at Its commencement. Dr. Poeppig, therefore, having spent
five successive years in thbse interesting countries, we felt that
we could depend at least on his having given us the result of,
mature consideration, and accordingly opened his volumes with
a tolerable degree of confidence that we should find them de- .
serving of attention. Nor have we been disappointed. We
have found the work replete with new and interesting information

you XYIU NO. XXXIII. B

£ Poeppig'j Traveb in Chili, Peru,

communicated in an agreeable manner, and calculated to give a
very favourable idea of the acquirements, perseverance, and im-
partiality of the autl^or. Dr. Ppeppig was besides not a novice
in such enterprises. . He had previously visited the fine island of
Cuba, and was in the United States, where he had been long
waiting for letters from Europe, which enabled him to set out on
hi^intended voyage to South America.

This plan originated with a few zealous friends of natural
history in Germany, who confided the execution of it to our
author, and supplied him with funds for the purpose. The im-
mediate object was to collect specimens of natural history in as
freat a number. as possible; and the result, as stated by Dr.
^oeppig, is highly creditable to his industry. Seventeen thou-
sand specimens of dried plants, many hundred stuffed animals,
and a great number of other natural productions, which were
distributed among the patrons of the expedition ; the introduction
into our gardens of many very interesting plants before unknown ;
three thousand descriptions of plants made on the spot, especially
with regard to such parts of the flowers as it would be more dif-
ficult to examine subsequently ; thirty finished drawings of land-
scape scenery ; forty drawings of Aroidese, on the largest scale ;
thirty drawings of Orcbideae ; numerous sketches; and a private
botanical collection of extraordinary extent, are a portion of the
fruits of that journey. Yet it may be affirmed that the sum allotted
for it was the smallest with which such an undertaking ever was
commenced and happily completed. But this narrowness of his
means necessarily subjected the traveller to great hardships and pri-
vations ; it did not allow him to take with him an attendant into
the inmost recesses of the forest* Even this was less painful to
him than the want of instruments for observation, after his
own were lost at the commencement of his journey, and his
pecuniary means would not allow him to purchase others. But»
says he, ^' what personal industry and goodwill could contribute
to success was done, when, in some remote Indian village of the pri-
mievai forests, month after month passed over the head of the lonely
wanderer, who had not even a native servant with him, and often
depended for his precarious subsistence on his own skill or good
fortune in fishing or with his gun : who sometimes had to pass
the night alone on the summits of the Andes, sometimes to steer
his little bark on the gigantic streams of the New World,
through tlie silent and solitary wilderness : and, at length, as a
recompense for many dangers, happily returned to his native
land, richly laden with the natural treasures of remote regions."

Dr. Poeppig was at Philadelphia in August 1826, when he
received the letters from Europe, which determined him to set

and on the River Amazons. S

out; and he immediately proceeded to Baltimore, where it was
thought much easier to meet with a vessel bound to the South Seas
than in any other port. He had however to wait six weeks for the
sailing of the Gulnare^ of 300 tons, which happily proved to be
a very strong ship and an excellent sailer. The description of
long voyages, observes Dr. Poeppig, is an equally difficult and
ungrateful task, especially in our times, when so great a number
of them have been described, and some in a masterly manner.
But with respect to the greater part of them the uniformity of a
life at sea seems to have affected the style and the imagination of
the writers, and to have rendered them dull and tedious. He
therefore dwells but little on his naval adventures, and we shall
follow his example, extracting only a few passages.

" Thus the evening gradually approaches, and b announced by a
flight dlmiDUtioQ of the current of air. It is in vain for language to
attempt a description of the splendour of a sunset in these latitudes*
It IS the only time of day when the groups of singularly formed, yet light
and transparent, clouds range themselves on the borizon. Tbeir trans-
lent existence favours the changing play of colours, because the re-
fraction of the more oblique rays of the sun produces the most extraor-
dinary effects. Even after we have repeatedly beheld the rising or setting
of the sun from the summit of the Alps, or indeed from the top of the
Andes, we are constrained to give unconditional preference to the same
scene as viewed on the tropical ocean. While one side of the ship is
still illumined with the last uncertain rays of the setting sun, the sea
on the other side, darkened by the broad shadow of the sails, begins to
sparkle. One fiery point after another appears j indistinct rays of light
snine from a greater depth j and, as darkness sets in, a new creation
seems to be called into life. Luminous creatures glance in every direc-
tion through the dark expanse of water ; now shooting up like sparks —
then rising in globules of fire, or passing away with the rapidity of
lightning — a great part are probably real nocturnal animals, which
conceal themselves in the sea from the light of the sun,"

'' We were now within four English miles of the celebrated Cape
Horn, which has a twofold interest, as being the terminating point of an
immense continent, and the witness of many of those vast enterprises
by which the daring European has carried his empire and civilization to
the remotest regions. This promontory is indeed worthy to mark the
utmost limits of so vast a portion of the globe : from whatever side it is
viewed, it appears an isolated majestic mass, boldly standing out in the
stormy Pacific, and by its calm grandeur attesting the victory of the solid
over the fluid. The large and solitary rock of which the Cape is formed
is not, like that of Terra del Fuego and of Statenland, split into various
groups) the land, rising from the north-east, unites in one rounded,
unbroken promontory, and, after attaining its greatest elevation, sinks
almost perpendicularly into the sea, towards the south. The enormous
mass or biack rock| unenlivened by the slightest trace of vegetation^

b2

4 Poeppig'j Traveb in Chili, Peru,

whose summit has never afforded habitation to man, and is inaccessibly
even to the savage ,boldly bids defiance to all the storms of the Antarctic.
Even the coantless tlocks of sea-birds which swarm in these latitudes do
not settle there, for they find more secure retreats in the lower islands^
and among the prickly grasses and umbelliferous plants of the Antarctic
Flora.

" It is pretty geoerallv believed that, after reaching the western
entrance of the Straits of Af agellan, the doubling of Cape Horn may be
considered as accomplished, and consequently all danger at an end. So
far as it is scarcely possible for a ship to be driven back again to the
meridian of that cape, or even to the eastward of it, the victory may be
said to be achieved. But the navigation of the coast from Cape Horn
to Chiloe is very dangerous 5 for this coast is in many places surrounded
by undescribed rocks, and on the whole very imperfectly known. There
is a very powerful current, at least periodically, in the direction of the
Straits of Magellan to the land ; and the many channels with which the
archipelago of the coast U intersected, produce, in like manner, very irre«
gular currents."

To the north of Cape Pilares a change in the temperature
both of the atmosphere and of the sea became very sensible. Be-
sides the usual attendants, albatrosses and other animals peculiar
to those regions, the author says, —

<' We met with a very elegant porpoise, streaked black and pure
white {Ddpkinua Leucorampkiis)^ and that in numbers which seemed to
border on the incredible ; for the end of the shoal, which was pretty

broad, was frequently indiscernible from the topmast We were

surrounded by them for several days. The observation that they were
going in a south-westerly direction makes it difficult to divine the reason
of their emigration, because the Antarctic winter must in a few weeks
commence, in the seas lying in that quarter. But another phenomenon
soon excited our attention in a much greater degree. On the 12th of
March, precisely at noon, we were not a little alarmed by a considerable
noise upon deck, and by the order immediately to lie to. The dirty red
colour of the sea had produced the very reasonable suspicion that we
were upon a shoal. However, upon sounding, there was no bottom with
one hundred and thirty fathoms. From the topmast, the sea appeared,
as far as the eye could reach, of a dark red colour, and this in a streaky
the breadth of which was estimated at six English miles, and which here
and there spread into short side branches. As we sailed slowly along,
we found that the colour changed into brilliant purple, so that even the
foam, which is always seen at the stem of a ship under sail, was of a
rose colour. The sight was very striking, because this purple stream
was marked by a very distinct line from the blue waters of the sea, a
circumstance which we the more easily observed, because our course lay
directly through the midst of this streak, which extended from south-east
to north-west. The water, taken up in a bucket, appeared indeed quite
transparent ; but a faint purple tinge was visible when a few drops were
placed upon a piece of white china and moved rapidly backwards and

and on the River Amnions. 5

forwards in the sunsbioe. A moderate magnifyiDg glass proved that
those little red dots, which with great attention could be perceived with
the naked eye, consisted of infusoria, which were of a spherical form,
entirely destitute of all external organs of motion. Their very lively
motions were only upward and downward, and always in spiral lines.
The want of a powerful microscope precluded a more minute examina-
tion ; and all attempts to preserve some of the animals, by drying a drop
of water on paper, failed, as they seemed to dissolve into nothing. They
were extremely sensible to the effect of nitric acid ; for a single drop,
mixed in a glass of this animated water, put an end almost instanta-
neously to the life of the millions that It contained. We sailed for four
hours, at a mean rate of six English miles an hour, through this streak,
which was seven miles broad, before wc reached the end of it ; and its
superficies must therefore have been about 168 English square miles. If
we add that these animals may have been equally distributed in the upper
stratum of the water to the depth of six feet, we must confess that their
numbers infinitely surpassed the conception of the human understanding."

On the 15th of March, before da>break| the coast of Chili was
descried from the deck, and all waited in profound silence till the
first beam of the morning should enable them to gain a view of
the land, which was about fifteen miles distant. The weather
being extremely favourable, the scene, when the sun rose above
the highest summits of the Andes, was wonderfully striking and
magnificent, and the author describes it in glowing colours. But
when they approached the land, near the insignificant fishing
village of San Antonio, so that they could examine it in detail,
they were mortified to find that even their telescopes did not
enable them to discover any of those objects which are most
welcome to the eye of the navigator after a long voyage. No-
where could they see any trace of man or his labours. The coast
of Chili appeared nearly to resemble the desolate region of Terra
del Fuego. Even the peculiar smell was wanting, which is
usually perceived on approaching the coasts of countries between
the tropics; and of which even animals are so sensible, that they
become restless, appearing to have a presentiment of the termina-
tion of their long confinement, and often boldly leap overboard to
reach the shore, which they suppose to be close at hand. On this
passage the author says in a note, —

*' Whoever has made a voyage to the tropical countries of South Ame-
rica, or the West Indies, will always remember with pleasure the sensa-
tion which he experienced on approaching the land. Perhaps no sense
is then so* strongly affected as the smelly especially if you approach the
coast in the early hours of a fine summer's morning. On the coast of
Cuba, the first land I saw in America, on the 30th of June, 1822, all on
board were struck with the very strong smell, like that of violets, which,
as the day grew more warm, either ceased, or was lost amidst a Tariety of

G Poeppig'^ Ttwi>el3 in Chilis Peru,

othersi which were perceptible as we drew nearcsr the ooiat. Daring a
loDg stay in the interior or the island^ I became acquainted with the plaot
which emits sach an intense perfume as to be perceived at the dbtaoce
of two or three miles. It is of the species Tetracera, and remarkable for
bearing leaves so hard that they are used by the native cabinet-makers^
and other mechanics^ for Various kinds of work. It is a climbing plants
which reaches the tops of the loftiest trees of the forest, then spreads far
around, and in the rainy season is covered with innumerable bunches
of sweet-smelling flowers, which, however, dispense their perfume during
the night only, and are almost without scent in the daytime/'

The voyagers, after a passage of 1 10 days^ entered the harbour
of Valparaiso, where they cast abchor for the first time since
leaving the Chesapeake, a voyage of 6000 miles.

Valparaiso itself, like the coast of the countryj wofully disap*
pointed the expectations which they had formed of it. In the
course of their long voyage they had amused themselves with
reading the books that have been written concerning Chili. Al-
most all of them represent it as the ever-verdant garden of Ame^
rica, as another Sicily, which they describe in the most glowing
colours. The fancy readily yields to such pleasing illusions, and
we may easily imagine that, in the dull uniformity of the dark
blue oceari, on the dreary coast of Terra del Fuego^ and amidst
the sufferings and dangers of the Antarctic storms, they would
fondly look forward to the promised land, as a new Cythera^
rising in youthful beauty from the bosom of the deep.

'* The first place at which We anchored was in the mouth of the bay,
between the fine English ship of the line, the Warspite, and the Mexican
ship Asia, of sixty-four guns* Before us, in close tiers, lay more than
eighty ships of all sizes, whose crews were engaged in the various occu<^
pations which always make the interior of a port an agreeable scene of
human activity* The cloudless blue sky was spread over us, and the
powerful beams of the sun were tempered by a cool breeze from the
mountains. But this foreground was the only agreeable part of the
picture. •.•«.. The novice from northern climes is usually struck, on
his first arrival in a tropical country, with all the wonderful objects which
surround him, notv that he is far remote from his native home. But this
is not the case in Valparaiso. We saunter down the only street in the
city, towards the inconsiderable market-place. On both sides are shops
filled with the productions of European industry, in some cases displa3Fcd
with all the elegance of our large towns. They alternate with the
spacious stores of the English merchants of the higher class, and with
the taverns for the sailors, from which proceed sounds such as we hear
Only in London and Hamburg. Except at the sultry hours of noon, this
busy mercantile street is thronged with people, the greater part of
whom, however, are foreigners, and the language of England is almost
more prevalent than the sonorous tones of the Spanish Peninsula* The

and on the River Amazons* 7

-picturesque. national cdstume is lost in the unmeaning fasbions of the
nortb of Europei and eren the booths of tbe peasants present nothing to
remind us of the coasts of the Pacific. Tbe market-piace contains only
^ncfa. objects as we have seen from our youth up, growing in our own
country, or which are at least common to all the soatbern parts of
£urope. However excellent tbe grapes and oranges of the country may
be, they want the attraction of novelty — even tbe expectation of finding
"sotne new prodactions in the neighbouring ravines (jquebradae) is pain*
iuUy disappointed. The few trees that grow on this rocky soil, which it
cohered with a very scanty layer of earth, are those of our hemisphere*
i^o spreading tamarind, no lofty palm^ no mango richly laden with
fruit, remind us that we have traversed the wide expanse of the ocean —
.scarcely a few grey olives bespeak the mildness of the climate. Even
tbe few ornamental plants are European, and the garden rue (ruta
hortcnna) has found this so congenial a soil, that it has spread far and
near^ over the arid mountains and lands, to remind us still more forcibly
of the shores of the Mediterranean.'*

Though there was so little to tempt the botanist in this dreary
spot, yet the approach of the winter season, when he was assured
that travelling in the interior would be equally difficult and un-
proi]table» induced him to stop for some months in Valparaiso.
By the friendly intervention of some of his countrymen he ob*
iained a small bouse iu tbe suburb of Almendral, which had long
been untenaQted^ and where he was soon settled, but suffered
much from the incredible swarms of fleas, which are the plague of
this country.

On the same day that he arrived in Valparaiso the Russian
corvette Moller, Captain Stanikowich, came into the harbour, on
her way to the Russian settlements on the north-west coast of
America. The officers of this ship, most of them ^oung men of
the first families, well informed and full of enthusiasm, accom-
panied him in his first excursions in the environs. A few days
later arrived another Russian corvette, the Siniavin, which had
been in company with the Moller, but was separated from her
in a storm off Cape Horn.

'' I was not a little surprised to find in tbe naturalist of this ship
not only a German, but an acquaintance. D. Mertens^ son of the
<^lebrated German botanist, accompanied tbe expedition as physiciad
and bounist; and Baron Frederick von Kittlita was on board as sookn
gist. There was a striking difference between tbe commanders of the
two ships. The captain of the Moller, a native Russian, was anxiom
only for the immediate business of his toyage, and having taken io a
supply of fresh provisions) soon put to sea* Captain Lutke, of the
SiniAVtn, a very amiable and accomplished man, resolved, to the great
joy of bis officers and naturalists, to malie a longer stay. A large home
was hireil in the suburb of Almendral, which the activity of the crew
loon pat iti order, from the observatory to the kitcheni not forgeitiag

8 Poeppig's Travels in Chili, Peru,

that indispensable part of a Russian establishmenty a tent for vapour
batbs. Not a day passed without our making excursions together, which
were rendered interesting by many little adventures. The Siniavin sailed
after a fortnight's stay^ accompanied by the good wishes of the many
Europeans who had become acquainted with the officers/*

Though our author's accounts of his botanical excursions, and
his descriptions of the scenery of the country, are in general inte-
resting and striking, we shall, for the most part, pass them over,
in order to have room for his report of the state of society, which
in Chili, at least, is so rapidly improving, that descriptions written
only a few years earlier are become, in a great degree, inappli-
cable. Dr. Poeppig thinks very favourably of the future pro-
spects of Chili, and we shall give different extracts bearing on the
subject. His intercourse with some of the tribes of native Indians
also furnishes new and striking details.

'' The shaking off of the Spanish yoke, the rapid rise of commerce,
and a sense of personal and national dignity, have not only influenced
the moral character of the people of Chili, but have also extended their
efforts to the external appearances and forms of ordinary life. Hence a
greater change has taken place in the aspect of Valparaiso during the last
ten or twenty years than in a whole century after the visit of Frezier and
Feuille. Since that time, the number of the houses and of the inha-
bitants has more than doubled. The wretched huts, in which even
the rich were formerly contented to dwell, are gradually disappearing;
and though it cannot be said that handsome buildings arise in their
stead, yet the Chilian has learnt to relish the comfort of houses in the
European fashion, and to imitate them 3 and it may be expected, that
Valparaiso, in a few years, will not bear the most distant resemblance to
the dirty, disagreeable place which presented itself to the stranger on his
first arrival there after the beginning of the Revolution.

To this the author subjoins the following note : —

** This prediction, which was written in Valparaiso itself, was partly
fulfilled before these pages left the press. He who undertakes to publish
to the world information respecting a people such as that of Chili, under
the present favourable circumstances, has to contend with very peculiar
difficulties. A description of such a nation is seldom correct after the
lapse of a few years, whatever attention and care the traveller may have
bestowed upon it. Every year, nay, every month, brings visible changes
and great improvements among this nation, which will soon leave its
neighbours far behind. • * • * Jhe state of Chili will soon be so
changed that the elder generations will scarcely recognize their own
country, and in a few years the European stranger will find an infinite
number of things, quite different from, the accounts of the travellers of
our times — even of those who, by general knowledge, acquaintance
with the language, and long residence, were qualified to give a compe-
tent opinion, and whose judgment of the country was not formed from

and on the Siver Amazons, ' 9

preconceived notions. • « « « Though Nature does not make her
general operations dependent on a fluctuating influence of the human
race, yet the activity and perseverance of the latter are often ahle to give
a very different and improved character to the surrounding scenery.
Those arid mountains which we have described will, at no very remote
period, appear to the stranger in a less repulsive form ; for cultivation
has been commenced upon them since 1831^ and small plantations now
break the melancholy waste^ which^ under the influence of such a genial
climate, will, for the most part, be adorned with verdant fields. The
aspect of the town itself improves every summer; for almost all
the straw hats have disappeared, and many large buildings have been
erected, because the citizen, who i^as licquiring wealth, while consulting
his own convenience, did not neglect the embellishment of the place.
On the spot where an insecure shed formerly stood, where rain and in-
undations annually destroyed merchandise to the value of many thousand
dollars, a handsome, solid custom-house, with sixteen large warehouses,
has been built ; the difficulty of landing goods during a heavy sea
has been remedied by the erection of a mole 5 and the communication
with the interior, at all seasons of the year^ has been facilitated by the
construction of good roads. There will soon be a broad and excellent
road for carriages from Valparaiso, by way of Quillota and through the
valley of Aconcagua, to the foot of the pass of the Andes of Santa Rosa."
** Chili, till within these few years, was a country in which there were
only two occupations for persons inclined to work ; namely, mining and
agriculture, it was unfortunate for the people, that the possibility of
exercising their industry in either of these two branches was very
limited, for the working of mines required more resources than a man of
the lower class ever could command ; while very singular, one might
almost say inhuman, laws forbade him to cultivate the ground in small
portions, and as independent possessions. It was the Congress and the
Constitution of 1828 tnat abolished. entails, the source from which the
misery, poverty, and ignorance of the peasantry are derived, as well as
the cause of the great neglect of agriculture^ even in very fertile pro-
vinces."

After describing at considerable length the former slate of the
lower classes, the improvement that has taken place, 'and the
favourable hopes that may be entertained of the future prosperity
of the country, the author proceeds to mention some instancesf^

" Thus, in 1827, the com trade to New South Wales being very
much encooraged by the English government, the value of the haciendas
(farms) in Chili rose considerably, in the hope that the exportation
would continue and inerease, though it was in fact allowed by the
government at Sydney only from neeessity. It is therefore not possible
to state correctly the average price of wheat in Chili, but it may pro-
bably be near the truth to reckon it at thirteen or fourteen reals per
f(inega« • • • • The corn trade was formerly much more limited
for want of mills> which often were scarcely able to supply sufficient
flour for the consumption of the country itself. But, in spite of the

VO ' Poeppig'f Traveb in CkUi, Peru,

obstacles which have been partly deemed almost iDsaperable^ means have
been founds as well in the central provinces, as about Conceptioo» to
make the rivers avatiablcj and mills of the best construction ev^where
take the place of the rude machine described by Miers. The flour ma-
nufactured by them is considered in Lima to be fiilly equal in quality to
the best from North America) and one mill, built in 1829, near Con*
ception, by Mr. Liljevach, a very respectable merchant, now grinds oue
hundred barrels of flour in a day. Ship biscuit is baked in such quanti-
ties that the North Americans have lost this branch of their trade $ for
the foreign men of war, and even merchant-men, supply themselves from
the depdts, which the Chilians have established in Valparaiso and Li ma.
Besides wheat. Chili possesses many qtliet* kinds of agricultural prodace,
which are of great importance for fbreign trade. In addition to pulse^
the consumption of which is very great, both at sea and in the countries
to the north of Chili, where there* is a very numerous population of
Negroes, the northern provinces have hemp, an article which is not
cultivated on any other part of the coasts of the South Sea, and promisea
to be of extraordinary importance to the country. This plant has been
long grown in the valley of Quiilota and about Santiago, but little atten*-
tion was paid to it, because a very unfounded prejudice declared it to be
of slieht value. But it has lately been found, that the Chili hemp is far
superior in quality to the Russian^ and that the want of strength in the
cordage made in the country was owing to the unskilful preparation, aod
not to the bad quality of the material."

After some further observationsi the author proceeds to treat of
the state of horticulture, which was in a far less advanced state
than agriculture, but he thinks it most probable that, with a little
encouragement, this branch of industry will become very floarish*
ingy the climate being such that all the products of European
gardens, which degenerate in the tropical countries of America^
will succeed in Chili. Even the cauliflower, which it is difficult
to raise in North America, and which no art or care can bring to
perfection within the tropics, has found in Chili a soil perfectly
adapted to it.

The cultivation of fruit-trees id, perhaps, still more neglected
than that of the other kinds of garden produce, though the soil
mig3bt grow very excellent fruit. From a general view of the
present state of agriculture in Chili, and the improvements that
have been made within these few years, the author has no doubt
that it will in no great length of time become extremely pros-
perous, and that Chili will find in it a source of national wealtbi
which none of the neighbouring countries can dispute with her.

" In a great many parts of the republic the wealth of the land-
owner consists chiefly in his cattle, which, however, he did not learn, till
very recently, to turn to the best account. With the very fruitful
valleyil^ and better watered plateaux where agriculture is carried on, or

and on the River Amasons* 11

is at least practicable, great part of the soil is of such a nature that
cultivation would produce veiy little. All those bafe mountains desti-
tute of shade, which in endless rami6cations traverse the country in the
central provinces much more than in the souths ar^ fit for scarcely any
thing but pastures. * * * Those possessions are the most favoured
which are in the interior of the country^ especially at the foot of the
Andesi for they do not suffer so much from want of water ; and^ be-
sides this, large tracts of the wild mountain country within the unin-
habited Andes (La Cordillera brava) belong to them. Thither the
cattle are driven in the middle of summer ; and, afler two or three days'
journey, they reach the fertile ravines, in which the animals remain
about two months, under the care of half-savage herdsmen. The climate
allows the cattle to roam at liberty in the open air all the year round,
and their numbers render it necessary that they should be permitted
to do so I and hence there is n<f trace on the estates of Duildloga
which cost the European farmer such large sums. An- inevitable oon^
sequence of letting the animals range about is that, especially in the
more remote parts, they become excessively wild, and even dangerous.
People are sometimes suddenly attacked by savage bulls, and compelled
to seek safety bv galloping at full speed on the roughest and most
d^mgerous rbads.^

" The breeding of cattle is, for two reasons, the branch of rural
economy which is preferred by the Chilian to every other j in the first

{)lace, it gratifies his inclination for a wild and independent life, and his
ove of everything that is adventurous and bold, and requires violent,
not uniform, exertions. The best educated men of the larger towns, on
an occasional visit to the country, take pleasure in pursuing the cattle,
and participating in the occupation in which the mountain herdsman
(vaquero) is engaged. * * *. The Chilian, especially of the lower
class, possesses a wild energy of character, which was misunderstood by
the former government, or at least not duly employed, and which in-
clines him to such occupations as disqualify him, and probably will do for a
long time to come, for a uniform and sedentary employment. A second
perhaps still more important reason is, that, since the expulsion of the
Spaniards and the introduction of a free system of trade, the breeding
of cattle has proved more profitable than agriculture. * • * The
number of animals which a single landowner possesses would often appear
extravagant to a European ear. They speak with great indifference
of herds of 1 000 or 1 500, and consider a man as by no means rich who
has three times that number. The haciendas in the central provinces
often have from 10,000 to 15,000, and many even 20,000, and the
number of smaller estates which have from 4 to 5000 is very great*
Since the revolution the value of this Species of property has risen in
an extraordinary degree ; and the owners are very far fr^m doing as
they did in former times, killing the animal for the sake of the hide,
and leaving the flesh to be devoured by the condors. ♦ ♦ • This
branch of Chilian economy is however not without risks, which are not
indeed freqneot, hot cause astonishing destmctlon. In the years 1829 to
1832, a vast niunber of cattle perish^ in con8e<|aeQce of an unexMnpled

12 Poeppig*5 Travek in CkUi, Peru,

drought, which extended over aU the provinces of Central and Northern
Chili. It appear? from an official statement^ that !n the year 1831
alone 515,326 head of cattle died of hunger in the proTincesof Coquim-
ho and Copiapo: of these ahout 77,000 were homed cattle, 10,000
horses, 23,000 sheep, 21 1,000 goats, &c. Though the numher may he
rather exaggerated, because the landowners wished to make their loss
appear as considerable as possible, still the injury was very great.*'

The abundance of new or yet unseen objects in all the kingdoms
of nature, observed after a few days residence in Coucon, inspired
that active zeal in which a travelling naturalist finds his chief
enjoyraenti and which renders him indifferent to many hardships.
One excursion followed another, and though want of acquaintance
with the country might have made them difficult — they were
undertaken without a companion, and often to places which the
natives themselves do not visit.

'* It was very rarely that I made an excursion on horseback ; experi-
ence soon proved that this was not a good mode, for many smaller plants
were overlooked, and it is necessary to refrain from turning aside through
almost impenetrable bat inviting ravines, and on the brink of danger-
ous precipices. The naturalist who has once settled should never Hde
unless he wants to visit a distant point, and the intervening country is
known to him. When he has arrived there, he may entrust his beast to
anybody and proceed on foot.'*

So much importance has been attached to the question of the
effect of earthquakes, as having occasionally produced an elevation
of the coast of Chili, and so much, at times too acrimonious, con*-
troversy has arisen on this subject, that we have been induced
carefully to look into the works of foreign travellers, in order to
discover any statements tending to confirm or refute the theory.
The question of the upheaving of part of the coast of Chili by
the great earthquake of 1822 was, we believe, brought under
discussion in consequence of the account given of it by Mrs.
Graham, in her narrative of her visit to that country, and pro«
bably with no anticipation of the angry feelings to which her
statement was to give rise. The opinions of the ablest geologists
remained divided, and considerable sensation was excited by the
confirmation of Mrs. Graham's account by the Prussian tra-
veller. Dr. Meyen, of which we gave an extended notice in
No. XXIX. of this Review. As Dr. Meyen, being well
acquainted with the controversy that had arisen respecting the
accuracy df Mrs. Graham's report, paid particular attention to
the subject, it was to be expected that the facts stated by him
would have their due weight. The extracts which we gave
from Dr. Meyen's work were considered as so important that an
eminent geologist, deeply interested in this question, in which he

and Oil the River Amazons* 13

defended the accuracy of the account of Mrs. Grahanii called
on the Reviewer, to inquire whether Dr. Meyen had any obser-
vations besides the extracts given by hioii and to compare the
translation with the original. One point appearing to be expressed
in rather a loose manner, it was resolved to write to Dr. jAeyen,
who returned a very polite answer^ which now lies before us,
and in which he says, '' I was acquainted with Mr. Greenough's
dispute with Mrs. Graham from its commencement, and received
last year (18S4) all the papers on the subject from Baron A. von
Humboldt, to whom they had been sent by Mrs. Graham. You
mention a passase in my work (p. 213) which you think seems
to be expressed ra a vague manner, as if I doubted the reality of
the elevation. I cannot see it in this light, but you perhaps
allude to the passage where I speak of the elevation of a tract
of country 400,000 miles in extent, as affirmed by a late traveller.
This statement certainly appears very strange, as there are no
facts whatever to show that the interior of the continent has
been elevated, and it is therefore impossible to estimate the
superficial extent of the country so raised ; it is only on the
coast that the elevation can be observed. In a short paper in
Berghaus' Journal for November 1834, to which I refer you,

I touch on the essential points which you and Mr. L 1 allude

to, but I will add some particulars. The remains of animals
and tang, which adhere to the rocks elevated in 1822, were
certainly still to be seen in 1S31, and this is easily accounted for
by the very firm ligneous stem of the Laminarise, (Lessonia of
Bory de St. Vincent,) especially as the sea often rises so high as
again to cover the rocks that have been elevated."

In the paper alluded to Dr. Meyen says that, the province of
Tarapaca has received from nature a peculiar present, namely,
tninas de Lena, (i. e. wood-mines,) which the inhabitants use as
fuel in their saltpetre works, though probably there is not a
single tree in all the surrounding country. This substance is not
coal, but 18 stated to be dry timber, easily cleft, immense forests
of which are buried under the sand of that plain. The trees all
lie prostrate, with their heads towards the coast, and are reported
to be now covered with sand. This phenomenon, he adds, is one of
the most remarkable of the west coast of America, and till the
subject shall be accurately investigated it affords occasion for
manifold conjectures. If those forests belong to the existing
creatiou, the whole country nnist have been so changed by dread-
ful elevations of the Cordillera, that, instead of the damp plains
of a tropical climate, there are now the most dreary sandy wastes.
The buried timber is said to be dry, as easy to split as our tim^^
ber, and to bum with an equally bright flame*

lA Poeppiff s JVaveb in CkiU, Peru,

. << What can be a stronger oonfirmation of the gradual elevation of
the Cordillera in South America, than the terrace^ike cimforniation of
this chain, which I found to be quite decided at most of the pointa of
Chili and Peru which I visited? And does not the overthrow of
these. forests prove, likewise, such an elevation of this country in recent
times ? I mention these remarkable facts, because many unfounded
doubts have of late been expressed in England eoncerning the elevation
of whole tracts of country m consequence of earthquakes or volcanic
aetion in general, though they may be clearly observed on die coast of
Chili."

Notwithstanding the observations of Pr. Meyen, confirming
the elevation of the coast, doubts were still entertained of the factj
and at a meeting of the Geological Society in December last^ two
letters were read on the questiop whether the earthquake of 1B22
had produced any change in the relative level of land and sea on
the coast of Chili i One of these letters was from Lieutenant
Bowers, R.N., the other from Mr. Cuming, an eminent concho*
logist, both of whom were at Valparaiso before and after the
earthquake of 1822, (the latter, for several years afterwards, a
resident,) who declared that they bad not noticed any such
change. Great importance was attached to Mn Cumingfs state-
ment in particular, because he had collected shells on the rocks
upon the coast, and it might be taken for granted, tliat if any
change had occurred he must have perceived it.

Though Mr. Lyell, in the fourth edition of bia Principles of
Geology, speaks of the elevation of the coast of Chili as an
undoubted fact,—*'' we know,'' says he, " that an earthquake may
raise the coast of Chili for ICX) miles to the average height of about
five feet," — yet the difficulties with which the subject is still sur-
rounded, caused him, after quoting the several statements of Mrs.
Graham, Dr. Meyen, and Mr. Cuming, to e^^press a wish that the
scientific traveller and resident in Chili may institute more minute
inquiries. We have, for this reason, thought fit to translate
entire the following passage fro^n Dr; Poeppig, confirming the
fact of the elevation of the coast , all doubts of which are. we
conceive, removed by the account of the dreadful earthquake
which desolated Chili in February, 1835, transmitted by our
friend and correspondent, Alexander Caldcleugh, Esq., resident
in Chili, which was read before the Royal Society, Feb. 14, 1836,
in which he states that the island of Santa Maria, south of the
Bay of Conception, was permanently elevated ten feet, A simi-
lar cbangfi was found to nave taken place in the bottom ojf the
sea, immediately surrounding the island. The amount of this
elevation was very accurately ascertained by the observations of
Captain Fitzroy, who bad made a perfect survey of the shores of

and din the lUter AmaMans. 15

that island previouriy to the earthquake, thereby affording the
most satisfactory and authentic testimony to this important fact.

*< I have frequently waded, not without some danger, through the
river to Concon, as there was a very interesting tract on the opposite
bank. This attempt required some little caution, because the ford
which traverses the deep and rapid river in a sigzag direction, changes
its line after every inundation. Extensive sand-hills, resembling the
downs of Holland and England, stretch along the sea-coast to the north
of the river. They are composed of a fine white sand, in which we
easily discover the original component particles of sienite, which is
the predominant rock on this coast, and which foliates at its surface with a
facility not usual in our parts of the world, and becomes a friable and
very light kind of stone. Not bavins any certain direction (thouffh it
seems to be parallel with the more solid rocks further inward), ^ese
accumulations of light and shifting sand would be continually changing
their place, were they not formed around solid nuclei, where they,
range themselves first op one side and then on the other, according as
they arp driven by the wind. Enormous beds of conchy lia and shells
are scattered along the north coast, imbedded in a ferruginous clay, or
indurated sand ; sometimes united like breccia, sometimes in nests, or
in longer chains. But they not merely extend along the surface, or
higher up the hilly banks, as we might infer from the communications
of many careless observers, which may, perhaps, even have been copied
fVom others; but in reality reach to an unknown depth, and tneir
termination has not been discovered, even at twenty feet below the
level of the sea: on the other hand, we find them at an elevation of
forty feet above its surface, in perfectly compact strata, which are
enclosed by the drift sand-hills. Jt is very remarkable, that these
accumulations of marine animals consist entirely of species which are,
indeed, found alive to this day in the same locality, but are by no
means the exclusive inhabitants of the deep* Among such we must
particularly mention the Loco (Murex. MoL), which 19 easily recog-
nised, and which the fishermen still take on this coast, but must for-
merly have existed here in almost incredible numbers, as the beds of
shells, which to the north of Concon alone extend, in a distinctly
marked ridge of hills, above three ^geographical miles in length, are in
some parts wholly composed of this animal. We seldom find them
mixed with other kinds, and least of all with bivalve shells, but which
may always be traced to living and well-known species. It is difficult
to say w|iat causes can have produced such extraordinary accumula-
tions of animals of the ^ame species within a very small space ; for they
are altogether different from other conglomerations of shells, which,
as in Southern Chili, for example, are often foi;nd at a great distance
from the sea, and generally at. a considerable elevation above it, and in
which we discover genera and species of an antediluvian world, of the
utmost variety \ and in the interior of Peru, on the other side of the
Andes, ivbere entire hills of shells and oth^r marine animals have been
discpver^ (La Veiitanilla) betweep the slate mouptainp of Cassapi in.

16 Poeppig*s 2'raveh in Chili, Peru,

the province of Huanuco, in which there is not the slightest trace of
any of the very few kinds of crustacea that at present inhabit the
seas along the Peruvian coast. The lost species of the singular tribe
of the Pentacrinitesi and beautifully formed coral plants, which bear
some resemblance to those of the South Sea islands, can be plainly
distinguished, although they are so closely imbedded in the more
recent rock, that it is only by a very lucky fracture that any perfect
specimen can be obtained. In a country which, like the north of Chih*,
has scarcely any other kinds of rock but the volcanic and granite,
lime is an article of importance, and hence the possession of these
otherwise unprofitable downs affords considerable gain. They belong
to the proprietor of the hacienda of Quintero, who regularly digs for
these shells, and thus supplies the greatest part of the lime used at
Valparaiso. The poor peasant in the neighbourhood of Quintero
avails himself of the same gifl of nature, but it is only upon pay-
ment of a small sum that he can obtain permission to dig m one of
these hills, and to load his mule with its never-failing produce.

** The sea-coast in this district, as well as further southward, pro-
bably consisted originally of perpendicular walls of rock, which, though
more remote from the ocean, still mark the ancient boundaries. Be-
tween their foot and the sea run these hills of driflsand, upon which a
more solid and promising soil has been very slowly formed, but only
in a few spots. There can be no doubt that the origin of these hills is
of comparatively modern date, and may be attributed to two causes :
one, as being the most striking, has been repeatedly mentioned, though
it would seem that too much stress has been laid on* it as a foundation
for general conclusions. It consists in the rapid and unconnected
rising and elevation of whole districts along the coast, which has
been observed to take place in all the greater earthquakes in Chili, and
was particularly striking during the great earthquakes of 182^. I
have, myself, frequently searched at low tide for marine animals, espe-
cially for the beautiful Chitoneae, on a chain of cliffs, in the middle of
the little bay of Concon, where only six years ago the fishermen were
unable to obtain a footing even at very low water — ^proof sufficient that
an elevation of at least six feet in a perpendicular direction must have
taken place here. But the formation of the broad and very uniformly
flat coast district, on which only sea-sand lies, cannot be attributed in
the same exclusive manner to this undeniable phenomenon. The less
striking fact, of the gradual recession of the sea from the coast of Chili,
has hitherto been very much overlooked, though it is well known to
many of the older inhabitants of the coast. We shall see, in the se-
quel, that, in the southern parts of the republic^ even entire plains (la
Vega de Concepcion) have arisen through the retreat of the sea, since
the first arrival of the Europeans, which are, therefore, facts that may
be ascertained with historical certainty. On the rocks which run
parallel with the ocean to the north of Concon, bat are separated from
It by sand hills and a broad barren beach, we easily perceive the traces
of the beating of the waves in stratifications very near to each other,
which is a proof of a very gradual subsiding of the waters but not of

and on the River Amazons. 1 7

an elevation of the ground by fits, of which this latter appears scarcely
susceptible, because it consists, to a great depth, of loose sand. The
formation of firm land is particularly striking in all those places where
ranges of cliffs rise at some distance from the coast, and it is evident
that many a cape was formerly an island, which has been united with
the continent by low tracts of land, produced by alluvion and the
retiring of the sea. The accumulation of sand in the mouths of the
larger rivers — for instance, of the Biobio — and the constantly increas-
ing difficulty of access to many harbours, for instance, of the Maule
and of the smaller entrance {boca chica) of the port of Talcahuano,
likewise indicate what we have just mentioned. But I do not mean to
deny, on that account, that an extraordinary collection of volcanic
power slumbers in the depths of the great ocean, which manifests itself
occasionally, but then in a truly terrific manner, and may have the
effect, even in our days, of raising large islands. Volcanic islands of
a very recent date were observed in the South Sea by Captain Beechy,
and others were discovered and examined, almost at the very moment
of their origin.

" The information which was given me of the numerous animals to
be met with in the environs of the hacienda of Quintero, induced me
to make many excursions afler my arrival in Concon, which always
procured me something new, and amply rewarded the fatigue which
generally attended them. The white downs reflect the light so strongly
that you soon feel your eyes very painfully affected ; and the sand is so
heated by the sun, that even the countryman, who is inured to the in-
convenience, is obliged to protect the soles of his feet by pieces of
leather. Thermometers, the correctness of which had been proved, were
r^.en put into the sand, thirteen inches below the surface, in the afternoon,
and though the experiments were made with the greatest care, they in-
dicated the heat of the sun as varying from 40** to 58** (of the Centigrade
thermometer), accordingly as the morning had been bright or cloudy,
or a slight rain had fallen in the night, &c, ; and this hot soil of the Chi-
lian downs, which in summer is twice as warm as tha atmosphere, nou-
rishes in the more shallow spots a great number of interesting plants,
among which the botanist is much surprised by the sight of a Mesera-
bryanthemum, a singularly formed representative of the Flora of Africa,
and the only species of that very numerous genus that occurs in the
New World, • ♦ • The beach, composed of very fine sand,
being moistened by the sea and become hard, is equal to the best gravel
walks in a garden. But the incautious wanderer is exposed to great
embarrassment, if not acquainted with the state of the moon he sets out
just when the sea again begins to swell, and every fresh wave rolls some
fatlioms further over the flat coast, when even with the utmost speed
no hope of escape remains. Though there is not the same danger of
inevitable destruction as on the treacherous sand-banks of the Scottish
coast, yet the only alternative here is to ascend the downs, and to
pursue his painful journey, while at every step he sinks knee -deep into
the burning sand. Such expeditions, however, often unexpectedly lead
us upon rare animals, which amply compensate for all our troubles.

VOL. X\IU NOa XXXIII. C

13 Poeppig*« Travels in Chilis Peru,

The beach is animated by many remarkable birds : litde dwarf barkers,
(scolapax totanus), brown as the sand on which they run in a straight
line, always assembled in small coveys, which move sociably near each
other in the same direction, and would escape the eye of the ibwler did
not their rapid motion draw his attention, when an approaching wave,
which they dexterously avoid, compels them to flight. An Himantopus
(H. nigricollt9,V\ei\.\ very like that of Europe, stands quite solitary, but
keeping a sharp look-out af^er the little marine animals which every
wave leaves behind, and which the active gulls often snap up before he,
moving slowly and apparently with difficulty, can reach his intended
prey. Innumerable small crabs live in cylindrical excavations in the
sand, and, as the tide approaches, watch for their share of the booty
brought by the waves, while they themselves are threatened by the
long-legged cranes, which, on the coast of Chili, pursue with extra-
ordinary eagerness the Crustacea, and in general all marine animals.
But the bird cannot get one of these crabs except by rapid flight, and
even the diligent naturalist does not obtain them without digging in the
sand ; for the smallest trembling of the ground under the foot, even the
shadow of a person approaching, warns the little annual of its danger,
and with the rapidity of lightning it retreats into its hole. Swarms of
little fish purposely suffer themselves to be brought by every wave far
upon the beach, and seem to take pleasure in the sport, for they are so
quick and so attentive, that you may attempt in vain to catch a single
one, or to intercept a number in their retreat with the receding wave.
The grave herons alone contrive to deceive them by their fixed atti-
tude, which, at a favourable moment, is interrupted by an almost con-
vulsive motion, and brings death to one of the poor dupes. Between
the high sand-hills there is a remarkable bird of prey, an owl which
pursues its victims only in the day-time, and builds nests under ground
with no inconsiderable skill. It has a most singular look in the
bright mid-day sun, for its large semi-globular eyes seem scarcely
calculated to bear such intense rays of light. It looks stedfastly at the
fowler who atten^pts to approach, and remains quietly sitting on the
ground, for it is never seen upon a tree ; even when closely pursued, as
if teasing and inviting, it utters a whistling cry and flies but a few steps ;
but the pursuer soon perceives the error of his supposition, that it can-
not see by day. In vain he attempts to approach ; it vigilantly watches
the enemy, and is often scarcely distinguishable from the ground which
is of the same colour as itself, till at length, tired of the sport, it sud-
denly disappears in one of the hollows with which it has filled the sandy
declivity. The many kinds of mice, which the Chilian peasant calls
IduchaSf and the degu, a pretty animal, resembling a North American
dwarf squirrel, seem frequently to be the food of the extraordinary
number of birds of prey on the coasts of Chili, • ♦ ♦ There are
doubtless many unknown small quadrupeds in these lonely tracts on
the shore. An animal of this kind, the cucurrito of the Chilians, has
hitherto escaped the inquirers, who have oflen visited the more acces-
sible parts of Chili. 1 was obliged to have a little dog many hours
watching by night on the solitary downs, and wading through a broad

and on the River Amajsom. 19

rirer at midiught« in order to obtain some specimens. The cucurritOi
80 called on account of its grunting, which resembles that of a hedge-
bog, very nearly resembles the African species of bathyergus, and
tends to confirm the observation which every where forces itself upon
you in Chili, that there is an undeniable affinity, a kind of family like-
ness, between the animal and vegetable kingdoms of the southern point
of Africa and Chili, and even of New Holland. The body measures
little moro than six inches, but, though of such diminutive size, it is
extremely quarrelsome. Perhaps these animals are as desperate in
their combats under ground as the European mole, for half of those
which were taken with so much trouble, were mutilated — one wanted
a foot» and the shining black silky eoat of another was covered with
scarcely healed scars, caused by bites, inflicted by two ill-shaped pro-
jectii^ tvory-Iike fore-teeth, which distinguish the animal at first sight.
" Between the downs, which extend beyond the promontory .of
Quintero, there are, along the sea-coast, many low lagoons, some of
which are of very considerable extent. Even at a distance, you see an
immense number of' marsh and water-fowl, but, above all, the noble
swan, countless flocks of which cover these brackish waters. It is
snow-white, excepting the head and neck, of a brilliant black. It is no
exaggeration to say that on one of these lagoons, a quarter of a square
league in extent, more than two thousand of them were proudly swim-
ming about, which I could easily calculate by counting some hundreds
of the nearest."

The favourable season on the coast having passed over rapidly
in uninterrupted, but well rewarded, exertions. Dr. Poeppig ven-
tured on a visit to the Andes of Santa Rosa, the relation of which,
though interesting as a whole, does not present any thing that can
be conveniently detached, unless it were an account of Christmas-
day at Aconcagua, one of the most flourishing country towns in
the interior of Chili. In the beginning of the year 1828, our
traveller set out with thejntention of going to Mendoza: in
crossing a narrow and very rapid river, two of the mules lost their
footing and were carried away by the current; the author himself
escaped by leaping on a rock in the middle of the stream : but
with the mules that were drowned he lost a small but select travel-
ling library, his instruments, many little articles very indispensable
to a naturalist, numerous designs and drawings, and part of his
collections. This unfortunate accident defeated the plan of going
to Mendoza, and the traveller returned to Valparaiso, where he
arrived on the 1st of January; and, the whole plan of the journey
having been thwarted by the loss, fliere remained no alternative
but to waitf at not too great a distance from the coast, for the
arrival of other instruments, &c. from Europe, to replace those
which were lost. Having no inducement to remain in Valparaiso,
our author resolved to visit the southern part of Chili, and sailed
on the SOth of January for Talcahuano, where he spent the winter,

c 2

20 Poeppig'5 Travels in Chili, Peril,

only making occasional excursions into the surrounding countr}*.
The indications of the return of spring, ^vhich in these southern
provinces resembles the finest months in Europe, summoned him
to extend his researches; and the unknown interior of the province
of Concepcion appeared to promise an ample^ though dangerous,
harvest. A war was at that time raging with horrors unknown in
Europe. He left Talcahuano on the 30th of October, intending
to fix his head-quarters during the second summer in the village of
Antuco,lhe furthest inhabited place towards the East; and the
following is the author's animated description of the approach to
that village, of his first meeting with the Indians, and his account of
the volcano of the same name.

" During a fine close rain, which added to the gloom of the scenery,
we descended the last mountain and approached the small fortified
village of Yurabel, which is at the beginnmg of a boundless plain, and
was the goal of our third day's journey. A very strange sight pre-
sented itself as soon as we had passed the gate, which had no doors to
it. Hundreds of half naked coppercoloured Pehuenche Indians sur-
rounded my little party with savage yells, and seemed inclined to con-
sider my baggage as fair booty. Many demands were made in a
language I had never heard, and the courage to commit violence,
which, under other circumstances might have failed them, in the centre
of a Chilian village, was compensated by a degree of intoxication
bordering on frenzy. This attack might easily have been attended by
serious consequences, as my resolute guides during the skirmish took
to their arms. A 'couple of dragoons fortunately came up at this
moment and rescued us from the hands of the savage mob. The com-
mander of the fortress, as it; is called, received us with great politeness,
and procured us quarters in an empty house, an attention for which
we were grateful, as the following day, being the festival of All Saints,
we were obliged to remain at Yumbel.

" Towards evening I visited, in company with some Chilian officers,
the caziques of the Pehuenche Indians, whose first reception of us
was so alarming. They were lying at some distance from the rest of
the crowd, under the projecting roof of the old guard-house, but not
on that account free from the importunity of their dependents, to
whom they were but little inferior in drunkenness. One part of them
were" lying almost naked, stretched round the fire, and sleeping away
the eilects of their brutish excesses, while the others were endeavour-
ing to reduce themselves to the same state. They had as little need
of drinkinc vessels as of any other preparation, to make this what
they considered a festive banquet. In the centre of their circle they
had scooped out shallow holes in the ground, put a sheepskin into them
and filled them with wine. There were always some at these wells of
delight, lying at full length on the ground, and drinking till they were
seized with the wished-for stupefaction. . Only one cazique, who in
the sequel was of great service to me at Autuco, seemed to have been
more moderatei and received us with the rude haughtiness of a savage^

and on the River Amazons* 21

because the republic bad been obliged to solicit his assistance. We
coald make nothing of this obstinate and stupid being, till one of the
Chilian officers reminded him of the warlike deeds of his youth.
Upon this the blood-thirsty nature of the rude and revengeful nomade
instantly took fire — he threw off the restraint imposed on him by his
imperfect knowledge of the Spanish language, and entered upon a
long recital of his murders, in the rude-sounding tones of his own
language. The interprets was no longer able to follow him, and I
willingly spared him the translation of such details. The favour of
the chief was purchased by a present of tobacco, indigo, and salt;
and be probably considered it as a token of his good- will that he pro-*
mised, if I would accompany him on one of his excursions, to afford
me an opportunity of shooting Moluches, a hated Indian tribe, to my
hearfs content. A glance at him and his associates, who had just
killed a horse, and, before partaking of it, daubed themselves with its
warm blood, gave no very pleasing prospects of a summer which I
should have to pass among such barbarians, and in a great measure in
dependence on their will. These were not the heroes of Ercilla, and
though we would allow ample scope for the poetic licence of the Spa-
nish J)oet^ the originals fell disgustingly short of the portrait. Yet
the friendship which the chief snowed to the Huinca (an equivocal
word for a European^ and used as a term of reproach by the mob of
Chili,) had this one advantage, — that the Indians ever afterwards
treated me with a degree of respect. This body of Pehuenches,
which consisted of some hundreds, had come from Antuco to Yumbel,
to receive the customary presents of the republic, previously to the
commencement of a new expedition against Pincheira, and had been
entertained at the public expense with a drinking-bout, which lasted
two days. No confidence however can be placed in such allies, on
which account the inhabitants of Yumbel were under arms, and a
detachment of the small army had been stationed here. As soon as
the money had been paid down, and all the wine drunk, the savage
horde took their departure.

" Yumbel is one of the oldest of the Spanish settlements, and is
mentioned by Ercilla. As a fortified place, it is one of the chain of
forts by which the Spanish government endeavoured to protect the
country against the predatory attacks of the savages, afler all the white
colonies in the country of the Indians had been destroyed, and a
barrier became absolutely necessary. Situate at the commencement
of a wide plain, it does not seem calculated to arrest the progress of
an enemy ; but the Indians, it appears, never leave a fort on the flank
or in their rear.

** At noon the houses were filled with provisions, which were sent to
us from all quarters, though every vfsiter brought presents of poultry,
^ggs, and fruit. However, this abundance was not unwelcome, for
the caciques of the Pehuenches likewise paid us a visit, and their
assurance of continued friendship and faithful protection, while w^
remained on the frontiers, was well worth a liberal distribution of our
stores. The borachios were concealed by the advice of the Chilians,

2fi* Pocppig's Travels in Chili, Peru,

and if anything might have displeased our brown quests it was the
caution that was observed in the distribution of a considerable quantity
of brandy. They left us towards evening, with the peculiar savage
howl, without which they neither take the field nor set out on a jour-
ney. The inhabitants of Yumbel urged us to proceed to the frontier
of the Andes. The circumstances were not very inviting, for many
fugitive families' had arrived, and the warlike spirit and common
hatred of the Indians to their white neighbours had already been
manifested in no equivocal manner. The southern frontier was de-
fenceless, and though the Chilian army was'assembling about Chilian,
such a spirit prevailed in it, that it was as likely to march to Santiago,
in order to effect a new revolution, as to turn against the Indians.
Such conflicting reports had been spread for some months that it
seemed useless to pay any regard to them. The journey could not" be
delayed, and though the danger was great, yet I could not but be
tempted by the hope of a rich reward hi the extraordinary regions of
the loftiest Andes. A naturalist who, in travelling in the interior of
South America, would suffer himself to be deterred by the probability
of danger, would, in fact, have a very narrow field for his exertions."
" Late in the evening we reached the end of the dreary plain of
Antuco, and suddenly found ourselves in a fertile spot overgrown with
high grass. The moon had risen above the snowy plains of the
Andes ; the streams of lava shone brilliantly on the shady side of the
volcano ; and all was still, till the noise of a great multitude made us
all at once aware that we were in the vicinity of Tucapel and indicated
that some unusual event had taken place there. In fact we found
the inhabitants in the utmost despair^ as they were in momentary
expectation of an attack from the marauding tribe of the Moluches,
who were said to have advanced as far as the upper Biobio— women
and children were lamenting, while the men were hastily loading their
horses with their little property, to seek safety in flight, though with
the certain prospect of finding their village reduced to ashes on their
return. Only a few men, confident in the fleetness of their steeds,
resolved to wait till the last moment and not follow their families till
the blood-thirsty horde had actually made their appearance. It
seemed more advisable to imitate their example, than to go back all
the way to Yumbel. Under cover of a neighbouring wood) we suc-
ceeded in getting off our mules and baggage, and I was fortunate
enough to obtain a fresh horse. The Chilians encamped in the centre
of the village — for none ventured to remain in iheir dwellings, where
they could not so soon be aware of the approaching danger. It was
indeed a melancholy encampment — little was said, and the cheerful
guitar was for once laid aside-T^he peasants sat in gloomy despon-
dency round the small watchfire, the reflection of which snowed, in
their careworn features, the traces of the misery which this destructive
war has for many years inflicted on all the inhabitants of the frontiers.
Xhe midnight stillness was suddenly broken by a dismal song, in a harsh
voice, which was succeeded by an expressive silence. At a short dis-
tance from us there was an encampment of about twenty PehuencfaeSi

and on the River Amazons. 23

who had hitherto remained unobserved. Near the fire, and supported
against the old trunk of a weeping fiiayte, reclined a captive Indian,
painted with white streaks, which had been traced upon his dark skin
with horrid fidehty, in imitation of a human skeleton. The rest were
seated in a circle in gloomy silenc^ with their horses ready saddled
behind them, and their long lances fixed in the ground by their side.
The prisoner re-commenced his song, but none replied, for it was his
farewell to life — ^his death-song — as he had been doomed to die the
next morninff by the hand of his guards. During a fit of intoxication
he had killed a member of another family, and, being the last descend-
ant of an extirpated race, and too poor to pay die fine in arms and
cattle, his life was irrecoverably forfeited to the vengeance of the
relations, according to the inexorable laws of this people.. J lefl the
camp of tliese Indians, whose vicinity could only excite unpleasant
feelings ; and ascended a hill which rose close to the unfortunate
village. Here, on a level rock, I watched for some time, holding the
reins of my horse in one hand and my gun in the other, as* we might
every instant expect the dreaded attack. About midnight, the wind
bore along the distant sound of the trampling of horses, followed by
loud yells, and, in a moment, the whole village was in motion. The
Chilians and Indians fled into the dark woods, — but the war-cries soon
announced them to be allied Pehuenches, who belonged to the troop
that had left Yumbel on the preceding day, and who brought good
tidings. The watch-fires instantly blazed up, and all thronged round
the messengers, who reported with wild gestures that they had unex-
pectedly come upon the approaching Moluches, whom they had
defeated, and that they were now hastening to Chilian to spread the
newa of victory and receive the customary presents. In confirma-
tion of their statement, they rolled along at our feet some bloody
headS) whose savage features fixed in death had a most terrific appear-
ance. The horrid trophies were received with a loud yell of joy — the
Chilians collected their concealed property, and a disgusting bacchanal
ensued. Sick at heart from the repeated sight of these cruelties, 1
retired into the wood ; the exhaustion both of mind and body rendered
any convenient resting place superfiuous, and I sought in the arms of
sleep forgetfulness of the events of the past day."

The defeat of the Moluches had probably ensured the safety
of the country for some weeks to come, and the travellers pro-
ceeded on their journey, after having been so fortunate as to pro-
cure a supply of provisions, which they should want during their
stay in Antuco for the summer.

''The inhabitants of Antuco were in a state of general consternationi
and had been through the summer in a suspense which made their
state truly pitiable. Being situated on the extreme frontier, destitute
of anv public defence, they saw themselves exposed to the formidable
attacks of the large predatory hordes^ which, under the conduct of the
brothers Pincheira, were spreading inconceivable desolation, at one
time in the Pampas of Buenos Ayres, and then in the fertile plains of

24 Poeppig's Travels in Chili, Peru,

tlie beautiful Chili. However scanty the property, it was sufficient to
allure these ruthless hordes ; but this loss was not to be compared to
the slaughter of their victims, and the cruel slavery to which the
women and children, whose lives alone they spared, were condemned.
No one could tell what blood-thirty bands were concealed in the
uninhabited Cordillera on the other side of the volcano, and from the
undefended defiles there might pour down, at any time, torrents of
brown Indians, and brutalized white criminals, who, as leaders of the
hordes, by their malice, calculating cruelty, and thirst of revenge,
aggravated in the most frightful manner the danger arising from the
mere love of pillage of the Indians. The country-people carefully
concealed their little property in the woods, and were obliged to ob-
serve two-fold caution when the moon was getting to the full ; for at
that season they were more liable to an attack from the Indians,
Every evening they were obliged to leave their wretched huts, and pass
the night on some neighbouring mountain, which was inaccessible to
horsemen; and it was melancholy to see the procession of women,
laden with heavy burdens, and leading their children by the hand,
ascend the steep rocky wall, uncertain whether the morning sun might
not rise over the smoking ruins of their peaceful village. The incon-
siderable garrison was unable to defend the place, and, when threatened
by danger, shut itself up in the small wooden fortress ; and the height
of summer, and consequently of their danger, also, was close at hand
before the government did any thing for tlieir protection. Quite
defenceless, and abandoned to all the horrors of an attack from law-
less banditti and Indians, the people of Antuco were a prey to perpe-
tual terror ; and the frequent reports, and false alarnts, embittered their
existence to a degree which it is impossible for a European to conceive,
who lives under the powerful protection of the laws, and knows these
dangers only from hearsay. My occupations did not permit me to
make these nocturnal migrations, and nothing remained for me but a
vigorous self-defence in case of attack. My house was open on every
side, and, being covered with tiles, could not be easily set on fire ; we
made embrasures in the walls, enclosed tlvem with alight palisade, and,
to our stock of ready loaded pistols the kind attentions of the general
of the southern army added a dozen muskets and a box of cartridges^
The Indian will not easily venture an attack where he expects a reso-
lute defence ; and, as tw^o peasants, who were acquainted with the use
of fire-arms, were ready to pass the night in our little fortress, and
preferred fighting to an uncertain safety in flight, our carrison in-
creased to four men, who, under such circumstances, would probably
have been able to defend themselves during the few hours that an
attack generally lasts. In times of particular danger, we kept alter-
nate watch during the night ; that, if^ apprized of their approach by
the trampling of the enemy's horses, we might have time to take our
posts. Provi&ence, however, protected us, for while danger was
everywhere approaching, and the hostile bands were within a few miles
of us, circumstances apparently accidental induced them to turn back,
and the little village of Antuco was this year happily spared.

and on the Biver Amazons. $5

** The valley of Antuco, which comprehends the highest point of the
Southern Andes, extends from east to west, is about seven leagues
long, not very broad in any part, and divided into two very nearly
equsd portions by the river Laya, At its lower extremity it is sepa*
rated by a chain of hilb from the plain of Yumbel and Los Angelos ;
towards the east it rises abruptly, contracts, and is in this direction
almost entirely enclosed by die broad base of the volcano, there
being barely space between it and the opposite ridge for a rapid stream
and a narrow defile which leads into the country of the Indians.
Many part9 of the soil are not worth cultivating, as it is covered with
volcanic rock, and resembles the dry bed of a river ; but the sides of
the mountains, and the plains at their foot, answer their hi^h reputa-
tion for extraordinary iertility. In some places they exhibit terraces
one above another, and present natural meadows in the midst of beau->
tiful mountain- woods, where 'the most luxuriant vegetation proves the
richness of the soil ; streams everywhere rush down from the moun-
tains, and above their verdant summits tower the lofly peaks covered
with everlasting snow. In the immediate vicinity of the village, the
mountains are so high tliat it takes several hours to ascend the bold
rocky summit of the Pico de Pilque. Still further up the valley, their
colossal height increases, till the indented glacier of the Silla Veluda
and the black cone of the volcano close the wonderful picture. The
village itself has a most picturesque appearance, for it leans against a
lofly ridge, which is crested witli a magnificent forest of beech trees.
There is an indescribable pleasure in botanizing on a bright morning
in summer on these trackless heights : the endless variety of beautiful
Alpine plants fills the botanist with enthusiasm ; the majestic prospect
of the soow-crowned Andes refreshes the eye of the wearied travelleri
who reposes beneath the shade of trees of extraordinary size; and the
atmosphere has a purity which seems to render him more capable of
enjoying the pleasures of life and despising its dangers. But the most
splendid and ever-novel object in the landscape is the volcano, which
is a few leagues from the village, and, not bemg concealed by any of
the smaller hills by which it is surrounded, is perpetually in sight.
We are never weary of observing the various phenomena which it
presents, sometimes occasioned by the manifold refraction of light, at
others by the mighty convulsions which agitate its interior. Some-
times a thick volume of smoke issues from its crater, like an enormous
black column, which by an inconceivable force is impelled with greater
rapidity than a cannon-ball into the blue sky; at others, a
small white cloud gently curls upwards out of the crater, with scarcely
any perceptible motion, which indicates the tranquillity that prevails
withm. At any time of the day, the appearance of this mountain is
new and varied, but it is most interesting when the sun is rising behind
it, and illumines its well-defined outline, or when enveloped in the ra-
diance of the evening sun, long after it has left Antuco in shade.
Even amid the storms which are oilen spread round its base, while the
sky in the lower valley is serene and untroubled, it still remains grand
and beautiful.

26 Poeppig'5 Trateh in Ckili, Ptru,

" At nigbt, when shrouded with thick cloudB, it is rendered visihle by
the brilliant fire which constantly issues from its mouth, and which
seems to penetrate the lower strata of the atmosphere. The heat of
summer, indeed, dissolves the snowy mantle with which winter has in-
Tested it, but a passing storm, which never extends to the lower grounds,
covers it, even in the warm month of January, with a sheet of silver.
We are never tired of watching the moment when the departing day-
light renders the glowing Jitreams of lava visible. A solitary speck of
fiery red begins to sparkle ; it is followed by others, and suddenly the
light, like a running fire, communicates to the long streams, which, in
some places singly, and in others variously intersected) carry down
fVom the crater to the base new masses of lava, which continue their
brilliant career till they are eclipsed by the more powerful light of
the morning sun. In the months of November and December, when
the air is quite free from the dry fogr, we'sometimes enjoy a very rare
but truly magical spectacle. When a passing storm has covered the
volcano with fresh pure snow, and the moon happens to be at the full,
we observe at the sides of the cone, a four-fold light, in the most
wonderful play of colours. While the moon is still low in the horizon,
and, hid behind the mountain, strongly marks the outlines of its snow-
capped summit, and the extreme point is still tinged with the last
beams of the setting sun, a calm splendour rises majesticallv from
its interior, and streams of lava glow on the western side, which is en-
veloped in shade : if at this instant light clouds cross over the summit,
the scene is such as no one would attempt to describe in words, and of
which the greatest painter might despair of giving even a faint resem-
blance ; for whatever grand effect the light of *the moon, of the reflec-
tion of the snow^ of the volcanic-fire, and of the evening sun, can
produce singly, are here united in one magnificent and unequalled
whole."

During the author's residence at the village of Antucoi which
is not yet marked upon any map» he made many excursions in
this hitherto unvisited Alpine country^ in which, though there
was difficulty enough in penetrating through the forest, you may
at least set your foot to the ground without fear; for no poison-
ous serpent, no gigantic stinging ants, no concealed enemy of
the animal kingdom, inhabits this happy region. It would be
useless to enumerate all the plants that extend to the highest
summits of the mountains. No one, he observes, could ever
imagine the Alpine Flora of Southern Chili to be so beautiful to
the eye^ and so tempting to the connoisseur, as it really is. All
the flowers of the Cape of Good Hope and New Holland,
which, without attaining the gigantic size of the tropical climates,
are extremely pleasing, are happily united in the vegetation of this
part of the Andes.

''The Indians, driven from their country, had settled partly in
the neighbourhood of Antuco, and partly in the most remote lateral

and on the River AnM^ons* 07

rallejB. Though but a few understood some words of Spanish, the
Araucaakn dialect, whieh they use, was familiar to most of the country
people and to my servant { and hence my intercourse with the caciques
was not interrupted. Prudence counselled us to seek the favour of
these demiHNivages, who might at any moment become our enemies,
and, being a people whom no traveller has yet described, they deserved
that attention ; the result of which I will here add. The Pehuenche it
a nomade, differing therein very much from the Araucanians, who,
however, like him, belong to the same branch of the great copper*-
eolouredor Patagonian race. of America. Constantly roaming about
among the Andes, he appears sometimes as a herdsman, with no pro*-
perty but his cattle — sometitnes as a bold robber, who in time of
war leaves domestic cares to the women, descends into the plains, and
often extends his destructive excursions to the very gates of Buenos
Ayres, where he is better known by the name of the Indian of the

The author gives minute details of their mode of life, which
resembles that of other nomade tribes, and especially in North-
ern Asia. Their manners are like those of most savage people.
The women are treated like slaves^ and frequently with much
cruelty. The Pehuenches are always at war with one or other
of the neigbbourtng tribes. They consider it as the greatest
proof of military skill to attack the enemy in some tinguarded
point, to penetrate into the open country^ and to infiict upon the
people all the horrors of an Indian war. They manage to arrive
by night near the frontier place which they have doomed to de-
struction. As soon as morning dawns, they rush tumultuously,
and with dreadful yells, into the defenceless village, and the inha-
bitants rarely have time to fly. The scene of barbarity and
destruction which then begins baffles description. Whatever
appears to be of any value is seized, the rest defstroyed, the herds
driven nway, the men and youths murdered without pity; the old
women, though not killed, are barbarously treated ; the younger
women and girls carried away with little hope of ever seeing their
country again. Lastly, they set fire to the wretched huts, and
the fiend-like assailants hastily retreat amidst the flames, and over
the bloody carcases of their murdered victims. Less than two
hours are suflicient to commence and finish this scene: they
vanish as suddenly as they came, and*the lamentations of the
few inhabitants who have escaped alone' bear witness to their
destructive visit.

" It is very seldom that these Indians take any prisoners, and
every one fights to the last moment, rather than expose himself to the
more or less dreadful fate which may befall him, according to the
humour of the victors. During my residence at Antuco, a military
party, which returned firom the Southern Andes, had aucoeeded in

58 Poeppig'5 Traveb in Chili, Peru,

capturing a chief of the detested tribe of the Moluches. The unfor"'
tunate prisoner was destined to be a victim to their vengeance, and
the intervention of the Chilian commandant, and the oner of con*
siderable presents, had no influence over the incensed Indians, who,
impatiently waited for the next morning. The prisoner looked for-
ward to his inevitable fate with that stupid indifierence which has
nothing in common with the courage of the hero. The man who,
more than half degenerated, has never experienced the happiness
of a softer feeling, resigns without emotion tl\e cheerless boon of ex-
istence. The noise of the festival in honour of the triumph resounded
throughout the night, and at daybreak a large circle of the men
and all the women assembled before the fort. The prisoner stood in
the centre of a smaller circle, composed of twenty warriors, each armed
with his long lance* Three shallow pits had been dug at his feet, and
a short stick was put into his hand. In a loud voice h^ related his
deeds, and named the enemies who had fallen by his hand ; and as he
pronounced each name he broke off a piece of the stick, which he
threw into one of the pits and contemptuously trampled under foot.
The shouts of the indignant hearers became louder and louder, and
the women, transformed into furies, answered with yells and screams
to every new name. One lance after the other was lowered and
pointed closer and closer at the breast of the scornful enemy. The
last piece of the stick was dropped ; the last and the greatest of all
the names was pronounced; and at the same instant resounded from
a hundred throats the fearful war-cry of the Chibotoo. Twenty
lances pierced the prisoner, who was lifted high into the air, and then
fell dead upon the ground.*'

In peace the Pehuencbes are hospitable to strangers, and
always give a good reception to their commercial friends ; but
they do not believe themselves bound to pay any regard to those
who are not recommended to them. They consider the robbery
of a strangeri often accompanied with murder, as honourable as
Europeans do a war carried on according to the law of nations.
In trade they are honest, and disapprove of cowardly theft and
cheating. When a caravan from the Isia de la Laxa arrived,
after eight days' journey, in the land of the Pehuenches, it
immediately repaired to the habitation of the most powerful
cacique, who gave notice of it to his tribe. Those who had a
mind to trade flocked from all the valleys, agreed upon the price,
and took the goods with them. The day fixed for the departure
of the Chilians was known, and there never was an instance that
the debtors kept away or committed any fraud in their mode
of payment.

From Antuco our traveller returned to the sea coast. The
scenery appeared to him very poor and prosaic after several
months' residence amidst the magnificence of the Andes. He
therefore resolved to embark in the first vessel for Peru, for

and on the Rher Amazons* 29

which he had to wait some weeks. This time was well em-
ployed in copying out his botanical journals, and in packing up
his collection, of which he kept duplicates, to be sent by a dif-
ferent ship, not choosing unnecessarily to trust the fruits of such
a summer to a single vessel. Though, during bis stay in the deso-
late and depopulated town of Concepcion, he often reflected
with regret oo the verdant plains and airy mountains of Antuco,
he found a compensation in the company of Mr. Henry Rous, the
British Consul, a very well informed man, who treated him with
every mark of kindness and friendship. He sailed on the 29th
of May, \S29f for Callao, on board the English brig Catherine,
the captain of which trusting to his local knowledge ventured to
pass through the Bocachica of Talcahuano; and he reached with-
out accident the harbour of Callao, not much pleased with the
barren and desolate appearance of the Peruvian coast.

'* A flat country, gently rising towards the interior, is bounded by
a whitish streak of sand along the coast, on which is situated the brown
and inhospitable-looking port of Callao. As far as the eye can reach
from this point of view, there is not a tree to enliven the dreary and
atony surface, not a scanty patch of even the lowest kind of vegeta«
lion to indicate the vicinity of water, without a constant supply of
which nothing flourishes here except succulent saline plants, or low
and thorny shrubs, which at a distance have the appearance of small
yellow patches. Round the little village of Bellavista are extensive
tracts of dry gravel, interrupted here and there by reeds and a few
other plants, which are cherished by the inhabitants with extraordinary
care. Still further on, with a dreariness of aspect which even sur-
passes that of the foreground, runs the low rocky outline which marks
the former boundary of the ocean. The towers of Lima, beyond
which rises the gloomy ridge of the Andes, alone give some variety to
this uninviting landscape, which is not rendered more attractive when
the sun pours down his rays from an unclouded sky. All the glowing
splendour of a tropical firmament is vain, when it illumines only a soil
which is adorned by no plant, refreshed by no stream, which has been
condemned by Nature herself to everlasting sterility, which even human
industry cannot remedy, and where the appearance of a land bird is
regarded as an event. The whole extent of country which stretches
towards the north and south retains the same character with unchang-
ing fidelity — only where a scanty stream trickles down from the clefts
of the Andes and irrigates flat valleys, the. thinly scattered inhabitants
are able, with immense labour, to cultivate this ungrateful soil."

** A general misfortune would be the drying up of the scanty
streamlet which is fed by the mountain snow, and of which the very
last drop is used for refreshing the stony fields. But we are scarcely
out of the limits of the artificial irrigation which is necessarily confined
to narrow stripes, when we are again upon the dreary waste, covered
with boulders, or with hills composed of a very light white drifl sand—

32 Poeppig'5 Traveh in Chili, Peru,

these have hitherto been in Peru the only perceptible consequences of
in separation from the mother country. Whatever the blessings of
freedom, which the rest of the Americans^ and especially the people of
Chili, are really beginning to enjoy^ it is known to the Peravian only
from the paltry riiymes of his patriotic songs. Tlie Revolution has
overtaken him before he was ripe for it, and the moral immaturity of
his whole life makes it difficult to foresee what generation will at length
create new order from the ruins of a general dissolution.*'

When the author embarked for Peru, he ioteoded to visit
Guayaquil^ and to make a long stay in Choro and Esroeraldas,
but, on his arrival at Lima, he found this to be impracticaMe.
As the coasts of Peru have iittie to engage the naturafist, to
return to Chili did not appear to be of much use, and a voyage
to the East Indies Vras necessarily renounced from pecuniary
considerations : the interior of Peru appeared to offer the only
asylum, where he might continue his old avocations without in*-
terruption, and at a small expense. It is difficult in America to
obtain information respecting distant provinces, even of the same
state. Mr. J. F. Scholtz, however, the head of one of the
greatest houses on the west coast of America, gave him the moat
frieudly aid*

*' And if," says he, *' contrary to the express wish of this worthy Ger-
man, his name h here publicly mentioned, it is from a sense of the gra-
titude which he amply deserves, as the promoter of a difficult enterprize,
and as the protector of a traveller, who, without recommendation from
any government, and without any official character, commenced his
long journey. To him 1 am indebted for the permission to visit the
Amazons, which is very difficult to be obtained. He afterwards libe-
rated me from an imprisonment, by which it was hoped to debar me
from all further research ; and, lastly, procured me many agreeable
hours in the solitary wildernesses of Maynas, by furnishing me with
letters and other supplies. Mr. Sebastian Martins, an Auglo-Portu-
guese, the proprietor of large estates on the Huallaga, spoke in high
terms of that country, and invited me to make a long stay in Cassapi or
Cuchero. The bare mention of these names, celebrated for the re-
searches of the Spanish botanists, Ruiz, Pavou, and Tafalla, made me
decide in a moment. The projected visit to the Peruvian Andes was
changed to a long residence in the Cinchona forests of Huanuco, the
navigation of the rapid Huallaga, and a voyage across the whole breadtli
of the continent upon the majestic Amazons.*'

We would most willingly dwell at some length on this part of
tlie author s journey, but the space allotted to us will allow only
some extracts, to ivhich we confine ourselves with the less regret,
as we cannot but hope that a work of such importance will ap-
pear in ati English translation.

" A iew leagues from Diezmo are the ruins of an ancient city of

and on the River Amazons. 33

the Incas, of considerable extent. They occupy the north eastern
angle of the nlain, separated by a low and stony chain of hills from
the Pampa de Cochamarca, which is about five leagues broad.
The road passes through it, and, long before our approach, we beheld
with impatience the widely scattered monuments of a people who, in
a moral sense, are wholly extinct. The Peruvians call it Tambobamba
(the village of the plain), which, supposing it were the only one,
would be insignificant enough. From the great extent of this scattered
village, we may form some idea of its ancient consequence. Such of
the houses as are still lef^, or of which we can trace the remains, lie
scattered without any seeming regularity. We were unable to dis-
tinguish any roads or streets; for the high road, which has been
carried through it, is probably of very recent date. The detached
buildings are pretty equal in size, and are separated from each other
by small intervals, which seem to indicate that each was surrounded
by a court-yard. This very same style of building is still followed by
the Indians of the Andes, and even the same mode of erecting the
walls has continued unchanged, if we except from the comparison the
greater negligence of the Peruvians of the present day. The walls are
built in a circular form,, are .from thirty to forty paces in their outer
circumference, and from six to ten feet in height. Even allowing
something for the rubbish, the size of the old Peruvian habitations is
very inconsiderable ; for houses of ten to thirteen paces in the inner
diameter, with a wall at the utmost fourteen feet high, are certainly no
palaces. \Ve roust not, however, expect, at an elevation of S500
fathoms above the level of the sea, to meet witli buildings such as
Palmyra presents to the eye of the astonished European. We stand
amid the ruins of a people who were unacquainted with iron, who were
therefore confined to the use of copper, and sought to compensate the
want of mechanical aids by untiring perseverance. The materials
of which the walls are composed are taken from the quarries of the neigh-
bouring chain of hills, and, though by no means of a durable nature, the
builders have been so careful in the selection, that the lapse of centu-
ries has made but little impression on these walls. The different pieces
are accurately fitted, and mstead of mortar are cemented together by
a very tough kind of earth, which has become so indurated, that no-
thing but the pick-axe of the superstitious treasure-hunter could have
wrenched them asunder. The most remarkable features in the archi-
tecture of these ruins are the pointed or bell-shaped roofs, which are
composed of smaller stones embedded in indurated clay. Ulloa savs
very decidedly, that nothing is known of the manner in which the
Peruvians roofed their houses — but that it was most probable they
were covered with flat wooden roofs, as no trace of vaults or arches has
been discovered amid the ruins, and every thing indicated that the
key-stone was altogether unknown in that age. The few remaining
domes of the roofa of Tambobamba are in the form of a bell and from
twelve to fifleen feet high. In the thatched roof of the modern Indi-
ans, we trace the exact imitation of these ancient buildinffs, and I was
told that the use of cupolas for similar small Indian buildings is still

VOL. XVII. NQ. XXXIII. P

34 Pocppig*5 Travth in Ckiliy Peru,

very common In the neighbourhood of Cuzco. It is much to he re-
gretted, that the only large building among these remains should hatre
been partially destroyed; as the ignorant people lYnagined that it
was a palace of King Inca, as the Peruvians express themselves, and
therefore concluded that it contained hidden treasures. The mania of
digging for treasures annually destroys in Peru many ancient and re-
markable remains, which woidd probably have withstood both time
and climate for a thousand years. Wherever the Peruvian beholds
tumuli evidently formed by the hand of man, or an ancient building
indicates the abode of an exterminated people, he immediately suspects
the existence of the guacas, or caverns, which were filled by the Incas,
at the time of the conquest, with gold and precious stones, and Ibr-
gotten at the premature death of these chiefbiins, who had buried
them from a sense of duty, and not chosen any persons as the deposi-
taries of the secret. The most absurd fables have been invented,
and, according to a tradition coeval with the conquest of this city, there
is in a mountain lake near Cuzco a gold cham, which went twice
round the market-place, and of such large proportions that an Indian
could with difficulty carry a single link of it. Many persons have
ruined themselves by vam attempts to turn aside the waters of the
lake. These failures did not however deter others from making si-
milar attempts, and only three years ago a proposal was made to
establish a company in Europe, for draining a lake in Columbiai in
which immense treasures were said to have been buried. Electrical
phenomena are frequent in the Andes of Peru, and even the better
informed European traveller occasionally beholds strange sights, which
have something awful about them, when seen at night in a solitary en-
campment, far removed from a human habitation. But the Peruvian
of the lower class, when he sees a silvery lustre glistening through the
clouds at midnight from the summit of a lofty mountain, or a phospho-
rescent light shining in the wooded clefts of the lower Andes, which is
a very common phenomenon in the Montana of Huanuco, is imme-
diately persuaded that there are either rich veins of silver running
along the surface, or that the buried treasures of the Incas invite the
bold adventurer. To fit 'him for such an enterprize he requires long
previous preparation, and the observance of a number of precautions,
such as only a diseased imagination can invent. Amid mnumerable
ceremonies and customs, many of which border on criminality, the
treasure-seeker begins to dig ; if upon this he sees forms that seem
to mock him, he turns back terrified, and is perhaps seized with ill-
ness. This may easily be accounted for, when we learn that the Chris-
tian Peruvian, before the commencement of his nocturnal labour,
throws himself into a state of delirium by drinking a strong infusion of
the fruit of the scarlet thorn-apple, which from this circumstance bears
the name of hkrba de Guacai 6 de Guaqueros, (Brugmansia cocctneff,
Pers.) Occasionally indeed objects of value may have been dis-
covered in these tombs, but much more frequently, and certainly in all
the guacas near Huanuco, they are of interest only to the antiquarian,
and are rejected as useless by the covetous searcher for gold.

and on the River Amazons. 35

** Next to the searching for treasure, a false system of economy, or
more properly a great dislike of labour, is often the cause of the destruc*
tion of many important ruins. Only a few years ago, the greater part
of Huanuco Viejo was demolished, because it was proposed to erect two
quite unimportant bridges in its neighbourhood. At this place was a
rortress, built in the style of the Incas, in an excellent state of preserva-
tion, and the people, being too idle to prepare stones themselves, pulled
doWB, with much trouble, the greater part of this beautiful edifice, for
the sake of the large hewn stones of which it was composed. Even
Garcilasso complams that, in the few years before his departure for
Spain, the stupendous buildings at Cuzco had been very much injured,
and that the enormous walls of the fortress were destroyed by the
hands of the Spaniards, which, if left to the influence of time alone,
might have stood for thousands of years.

** It is not till their voices betray the inhabitants of the forest, that
the European sportsman^ who has not the practice and the sharp
sight of the Indians, is able to discover them amid the dark foliage of
the trees. Sometimes, however, voices are heard, which throw us into
doubt respecting the nature of the animal, or even lead the traveller to
anfbr the vicinity of some dangerous beast of prey, and hastily prepare
for his defence. Amid the inhospitable forests near the zone of Ceja,
where sharp ridges of rocks and clefls impede every step between the
dark and closely matted trees, we are all at once surprised by a loud
piercing grunt *, afler a long search, we find to our great astonishment
that it does not proceed from a quadruped, but from a bird, called
THnquii of middling size and splendid cinnamon-coloured plumage,
aittii^ among the intricately woven parasitic plants. Still more
deceiving is the note of the very singular Torcpisju (bull-bird), which
juttlv deserves its name, for we can scarcely persuade ourselves, that
this indistinct bellowing of an ox, which seems to be the agreeable in-
dication of some neighbouring hacienda, should proceed from a little
bird soareelv larger than a European crow, which is concealed in the
adjoining thicket. The sound seems to proceed from a great distance,
which makes it more difficult to trace him. When a shot has brought him
to the ground, we can scarcely prevail upon ourselves to touch this
formidable looking coal-black bird. His large bushy crest, which is
above two inches high^ falls back as if in defiance, and almost entirely
eonceals his head ; he opens his bill wide, and from his blood-red throat
issues a hissing like that of a serpeht ; his eyes, white as silver, flash
amidst the ruffled plumage, and, surrounded by fallen trees and piled
up mouldering fragments, the sight involuntarily reminds us of the
dreadfully poisonous reptiles that inhabit similar places.*'

This seems rather a formidable description of the death of a
small bird*

<' In the thickest gloom of the forests lives a solitary but singularly
beautiful songster ; we stand listening, fettered to the spot, while, from
the summit of the tree, he pours forth his slow soft notes, which are
variously modulated, but, with the most correct observance of the in-

D 2

S6 Poeppig'i* Travels in Chili, Peru,

tervals, forming a regular melody, that altogether resembles the sound
of an harmonicon. There is something indescribably soothing, I
might almost say supernatural, in this chime, the charms of which are
increased by the dreary silence of the forest and the concealment of
the diminutive songster. When at last you discover it, you cannot
find it in your heart to kill it, and it appears lost amid the multitude of
brilliant and variously coloured Tanagras and creepers. The Peruvians
call it the organista or Jiauiero, and it is spoken of in Lima as one of
the most remarkable inhabitants of the unexplored forests to the east.
In size it is about one-third less than our common sparrow ; it is
never found except in the woods, where it selects the most thickly
shaded places. I met with it as far as the mouth of the Huallaga, but
not in Ega, or further down the Amazons. Its plumage is a uni*
form bright brown. I brought only one specimen to Europe, which
was killed by an Indian, and presented to the Museum of the Univer-
sity of Leipsic.

•• The piercing cry of the pferoelossus is heard at a great distance,
and the name dios te de, which is given to it by the people, is an imita-
tion of its note. At every cry it throws its head awkwardly back,
rapidly opens and shuts its gigantic bill, which is raised perpendicularly,
with a balancing, ludicrous motion of the body. I found here not
only the pincha {Pteroglossus Aracari)^ but the emerald green species,
with a bill edged with white {Pt. Sulcatus^ Swains.) Both may be
tamed, as they fee^ on all kinds of food in their captivity, and the
natives use the raspings of the bill and the long-fringed tongue as in-
fallible remedies against heartburn and cramp. The great gold and
green Araras of the Andes, {Guacamayos) settle in the morning on the
highest trees of the forest, or alight in flocks on the deep red ery-
thrina and the yellow tachia, of the flowers of which they are very
fond. Their scream is horrible, but they are cunning enough to know
that it may betray them, when they begin to plunder a field of ripe
maize — every one then checks his propensity to screaming, and only a
suppressed murmuring noise is heard, while the work of destruction
proceeds with amazing rapidity. It is very difficult for the sportsman
or the angry Indian to surprise the cunning thieves, for a few are
always stationed to watch upon the highest trees. The first low note
of warning is answered by a general half-suppressed cry of the dia-
turbed robbers. At the second warning, the whole fly away with
deafening cries, to recommence their miscnievous operations as soon as
the enemy has retired. They are a constant object of pursuit to the
Indians, for their flesh is considered as a delicacy, and their feathers
are much in demand, for the fantastic ornaments which the Indians
wear in solemn processions. In ancient times the inhabitants of the
forest brought die feathers of this bird as a tribute to the Incas, for
the decoration of their palaces ; and the oldest historians of Peru
say, that these and the coca were the only productions which formerly
led to the establishment of colonies in the much dreaded sultry
forests — the Montanas bravas de los Antis, as Garcilasso calls them."

*' The lower classes of tlie animal kingdom are far more numerous,

and on the Rive)' Amazons. 37

but also far more hostile, and this is particularly the case with the
insects. You are annoyed and persecuted by them in every thing you
do, and are daily obliged to exert your insenuity to discover means
of encountering tliem, but are too often obliged to acknowledge, with
vexation, that the acuteness of the human understanding is no match for
the instinct of tliese little animals. After some observation, I was con-
founded at the great number of the species of the ant, for instance ;
for there is no part of the level country of Maynas where the ants are
so numerous as in the Lower Amies ; and even the North of Brazil,
though filled with them, is a paradise in this respect, when compared
with the mountains of Cuchero. From the size of an inch to half a
line in length, of all colours between yellow and black, infinitely dif-
fering in their activity, places of abode, and manners, the ants of this
country alone would engage the whole attention of an active entomologist
for years together. Merely in the huts^ we distinguish without any
difBculty seven different species, as the most troublesome inmates —
animals that are seldom met with in the forest, far from the abodes of
man, but, on the contrary, indefatigably pursue and accompany him
and his works, like certain equally mischievous plants, which suddenly
appear in a newly planted field in the midst of the wilderness, and
hmder the cultivation, though they liad never been seen there before.
How many species there may be in the forest is a question, which
any one who has visited a tropical country will not be bold enough
to answer If I state here, that, after a very careful enumeration,
six and twenty species of ants are found in the woods about Pampayaco,
I will by no means affirm that this number is complete. Every group
of plants has particular species, and many trees are, even the exclusive
abode of a kind that does not occur anywhere else. With the ex-
ception of a very few kinds, a superficial observation makes us ac-
quainted with the ants merely as mischievous and troublesome animals ;
ibr, if on a longer residence, and daily wandering in the forests, we
perceive that these countless animals are, in many respects, of service,
still it is doubtful whether the advantage is not more tlian counter-
balanced by the mischief which they do. One of the indubitably
very useful kinds, and which does not attack man unless provoked, is
the Peruvian wandering ant, called in the language of the Incas
guagna-miagiie ; a name which is commonly, and very justly, translated
Que Iiace llorar las ojos, — " which makes the eyes water ;" for, if their
bite gives pain for a few minutes only, he who imprudently meddles
with them is bitten by so many at once, that he finds it no joke. It is *
not known where this courageous insect lives^ for it comes in endless
swarms from the wilderness, where it again vanishes. It is generally
seen ouly in the rainy season, and it can scarcely be guessea in what
direction it will come ; but it is not unwelcome, because it docs no
injury to the plantations, and destroys innumerable pernicious insects
oi other kinds, and even amphibious animals and small quadrupeds.
The broad columns go forward disregarding every obstacle; the
millions march close together in a swarm tliat takes hours in passing ;
wbilei on both sides, tlie warriors, distinguished by their size and

38 Poeppig's Traveb in Chili, Peru,

Golour, move bosily backward and forward, ready for defence^ and
likewise employed in looking for and attacking animals which ai:e so
unfortunate as to be unable to escape, either by force or by rapid
flight. If they approach a house, the owner readily opens every part
and goes out of their way ; for all noxious vermin that may have taken
UD their abode in the roof of palm-leaves, the insects and larvae
which do much more damage than one is aware of, are all destroyecl
or con^pelled to ^eek safety in flight. The most secret recesses of
the huts do not escape their search, and the animal that waits for
their arrival is infallibly lost. They even, as the natives affirm^
overpower large snakes, for the warriors quickly form a circle round
the reptile, while basking in the suo, which on perceiving its enemies
endeavours to escape, but in vain ; for six or more of the enemy have
fixed themselves upon it, and, while the tortured animal endeavours to
relieve itself by a single turn, the number of its foes is increased a
hundred fold; thousands of the smaller ants from the main column
hasten up, and, in spite of tlie writhings of the snake, wound it in innu-
merable places, and in a few hours nothing remains of it but a cleaa
skeleton.

'' To whatever side you turn your eyes about Pampayaco, you see
only a wilderness of thickly wooded mountains, where civilized man
has never established himself, or has appeared only as a transitory
passenger, leaving no trace behind. The soul of the observer is filled
with a feeling of melancholy by the iact, that in the tropical countries
the works of man disappear more completely and more rabidly than
in any other habitable part of the globe, while Nature alone, vmdicating
her rights, flourishes unchanged in eternal youth and vigour. History
speaks of colonies that once flourished in those mountains ; but, did
not scarcely perceptible traces in the forest indicate that trodden
paths formerly connected the houses which have disappeared, we
should be inclined to doubt the fact. Events that happened only a
century ago are enveloped, in the wildernesses of the New Woprld, in
the veil of uncertain and obscure tradition ; and what, to the inha<-
bitant of the Eastern hemisphere, the theatre of a history embracing
some thousand years, would appear like evenljs of the last twelve-
month, bears, in the equatorial countries of America, which are desti-
tute of historical record, and amidst the overpowering energies of
Nature, the character of venerable antiquity. Some decayed now
uninhabited huts, and a plantation of coca, are the only remains of
Cuchepo, once the seat of a numerous population, and so highly ex-
tolled by the Spanish botanists. Of the missions, which once pro-
ceeded from the mountains of Cuchero, and extended even into tracts
where no white man has since set his foot, not the slightest traces re-

mamJ'

The author, having mentioned the coca plantation, gives a very
long account of that remarkable plant, which has naw become
an indispensable necessary of life among the Indiana of the
Andes, and, as an article very extensively cultivated, deseivei
great attentiont The coca {Erythroxylon Coca^ ham*) b a bush

and on the River Amazons, SQ

from ftix to eight feet high, somewhat like a blackthorn^ which
it resembles io its numerous small white blossoms, and the lively
bright green of the leaves. These leaves, which are gathered and
carefully dried, are an article of brisk trade, and the use of them
is as old as the first knowledge of the history of Peru. It is a sti*
nuilant, which acts upon the nerves in the same manner as opium.
Unhappily, the use of it has degenerated into a vice which seems
incurable. The Indians of America, especially those of the
Peruvian Andes, notwithstanding the civilization which surrounds
them^ have a vague sense of their own incurable deficiency, and
bence they are eager to relieve themselves, by violent excitements,
from such melancholy feelings. This accounts, not only for the
use of the coca, but also for the boundless love of spirituous
liquors, which possesses scarcely any other people in the world
in an equal degree. To the Peruvian, the coca is the source of
the highest gratification ; for under its influence his usual melan-
choly leaves hire, and his dull imagination presents him with
iniagies which be never enjoys in his usual state of mind. If it
cannot entirely produce the terrible feeling of over-excitement
that opium does, yet it reduces the person who uses it to a simi-
lar state, which is doubly dangerous, because, though less in
degree, it is of far longer duration. This effect is not perceived
until after continued observation ; for a new comer is surprised
indeed at the many disorders to which the men of many classes of
the people are subject in Peru, but is very far from ascribing them
to the coca. A look at a determined coquero gives the solution
of the phenomenon ; unfit for all (he serious concerns of life,
such a one is a slave to his passion, even more than the drunkard,
and exposes himself to far greater dangers to gratify his propen-
sity. As the magic power of the herb cannot be entirely felt, till
the usual concerns of daily life, or the interruptions of social in-
tercourse, cease to employ the mental powers, the genuine co-
quero retires into solitary darkness or the wilderness, as soon as his
longing for this intoxication becomes irresistible. When night,
which is doubly awful in the gloomy forest, covers the earth, he
remains stretched out under the tree which he has chosen ; with«
out the protection of a fire near him, he listens with indifference
Io the growling of the ounce ; and when, amid peals of thunder,
the elonds pour down torrents of rain, or the fury of the hurri-
cane uproots the oldest trees, he regards it not. in two days he
generally returns, pale, trembling, his eyes sunk, a fearful picture
of unnatural indulgence. He who has once been seized with
tUfl pasMOD, aad is placed in a situation that favours its develop-
ment, is a losit man.

The author heard ia Peru truly deplorable accounts of young

40 Poepplg's Travels in Chilif Peru,

men of good families, wboj in an accidental .visit to the woods,
began to use coca to pass aiyay the tioiCi soon acquired a relish
for it; and from that moment were lost to the civilized world, and,
as if under some malignant spelU refused to return to tlive towns.
We are told how the relations at .leng.th discovered thje fugitive
in some remote Indian village, and, in spite of his t^r^i dragged
him back to his home. But, these tmhappy persons wore as food
of living in the wilderness, as averse to the more orderly mode of
life in the towns ;. for public opinion condemns the white coq«jero,
as it does an incojTigible drunkard among us. They, t^refore,
take the earliest opportunity of, escaping to the woods^ where
degraded, unworthv of the white complexion, the stamp, of Datu«>
ral superiority, and become half savages, they fall victims. to pre-
mature death, through the jmxi>oderate use of this intOKicatiDg
herb.

Dr. Poeppig passed more than five months in the solitude of
Pampayaco, leading a very Utuiform life, solely occupied wiih
the increase of his collections, in whidi be was yery successDiil.
Christmas was at hand, and some preparations were made} as
well as circumstances would permit in that lonely spot^.to keep
the festival, even though alone. But fortune had otherwise de-
termined, for, going out on the evening of the.^3d of Decembeft to
cut down a tree that was inblossom, he suddenly felt ^ pain iabis
instep^ like that caused by a drop of burning sealing waxyan(i> look-
ing round, discovered a very large ^erjient cio^e to biin, coded up
with its head erect; seeming rather to be satined with what it
had done, than to be meditating a second attack. From a audden
impulse, he attempted to kill. the serpent, which heat length suc-
ceeded in doing, and then, recollectiujg his own danger, hastened
to the house, which wiSls about five liftridred paces distant* But
his foot had swelled considerably before he reached it. Happily,
a Creole inhabitant of Pampayaco^ who was at hand, proceeded to
the operation, though the Indians who were called in, after look-
ing for the snake, declared the wound to be mortali with the com--
posure which is usual to them, and probably ortginates.ia thdr
being accustomed to a nature, whidh daily threatens visible or
supposed dangers. A bluespot^ an inch broad, and two bihck
points resembling the puncture of a needle, qnite c^ld, and almost
without feeling, showed where the bite had been inflicted. There
being no instnnnents, the skin was pierced With a packmg-needle,
and cut away in a circle to the muscles, but the knife employed
was so unlike that of a surgeon's^ that it gave considerable
pain. Black blood flowed copiously from it, for a Targe vein
had, perhaps fortunately^ been divided. The most pdinAil part
of the operation was, .the application of a piece' of gold coin

and oh the' Ri^er Amazons* 4 1

heated red hot, because^ according to a superstitious notion of the
Peruvians, silver or iron does harm. Meanwhile, the general pain
increased so much, such frequent faintingfits ensUed, and it was
so probable that death would follow, that no time was to be lost.
Our traveller wrote a few lines w^ith a bl^cklead pencil to bid a
last adieu to his friends in Lima and in his distant' home* He
urged those who surrounded him to send his coTFections aiid
papers according to his directions, and promised them tfiat they
should have the rest of his effects. Havmg thujr settled his
worldly affairs, and reached, perhaps for the last time, his wretched
bed, alt around appeared to be involved in night, and, as h6 be-
came insensible, the pain diminished. Long afler midnight (le
.recovered from his lethargy, and the vigour of youth obtained (he
victory ; for a burning fever, a profiise perspiration, and a pecu^
liar and severe shooting pain in the wounded limb, were indica-
tions of safety. But a storm howled in the forest, W'hich an ill-
secured place in the leaf thatch could not resist, and large drops
fell upon the sufferer. With much difficulty, he succeeded in
moving his burning head out of the way, but his body was so
swelled that it was almost impossible to move. No friendly
hand was near to present a cooling bfeverage, or to prevent ttie
rain from entering. The Indian, who had been left by the others
to watch, convinced that death had taken place, and seized with
superstitious fear, had long before fled to his companions. It
was not tiH morning that curiosity attracted some persons, and
relieved him from his painful* situation. Tlie succeeding days
passed in great agony, for a large wound had been formed, and
indications of th^ poison long remained. . i

''A fortnight elapsed befoie I was able» with tb&dAsistaiK^ of 4ii
Indian, to leave my bed, and) stretched on th^ skiq of aa ouope be-
fore the door of my hut, again to enjoy the pure air and a more cheer-
ful prospect. It was a lovely mild morning ; several trees of the most
beautifnl kinds had blossomed during my imprisonment, and now
looked invitingly from the neighbouring wood. The gay butterflies
sported familiarly around, and the voices of the birds sounded cheer-
fully from the crowns of the treed. As if desirous to teconeik het
faithful disdple^ and to make him forget what he had suflRsfed, Natuns
appeared in her most festive dress. Gratitude aid bmotion filled my
heart, for certaiiAy the goodness of the Supveme Potver^ in His oaire'
of man, is manifested in nothing so much as the facut^y,^ originidly be-
stowedi upon every individual, of finding in the intercourse with the
beauteous world of plants and animals, even under the pi^essure of
severe sufiering, a never- failing source of consolation and oi joy.V

Towards the end of January, 1830, prepar*tion» were made to
prosecute the journey down the rmrs into the interior' -of Fern ^

1 1

42 Poeppig's Trixoek in Chili^ Piru,

but the effects of our traveller's wpund, together with th« great
privations and hardships which he had endured, had so weakened
his constitution, that he was attacked by an intermittent fever.
This caused such delay, that he did not reach Huanuco till the
end of March, whence he sent bis collections to Linut — but be
was detained there three weeks from the effects of the fever. He
was obliged to go himself to Cerra de Pasco, iu Order to receive
the goods and money which were to defray the expense of his
stay in the missions, of his journey to the coast of the Atlantic,
and of his voyage to Europe. He returned at the beginning
of May to Casaapi, where be had the pleasure of finding the In-
dians with whom he was to navigate the upper part of the river
Huallaga. The voyage down this river^ and the occasional excur-
sions into the country, were particularly interesting. At Uchiza, a
village of the missions,he met with the priest, a worthy old Spaniard,
the only one of his nation and profession who had not sunk iu
the storms of the revolution. Don Ramon Bazadres, a Franciscan
monk — a native of Galicia — had lived for more than forty years
in the. missions ofthe Upper Huallaga — and, since the expulsion
of the Spaniards, was the- only European on the banks of that
river. This friendly, though very poor, old man was not a little
rejoiced at seeing a countryman in his desert, for, in the interior
of America, the distinctions and prejudices of the several nations
of our part of the world vanish, and it is sufficient to have crossed
the ocean to be considered by the European settler in the forest
as a relation. His next station was at Tocache, formerly a
flourishing mission, where, by consent of the priest of Uchiza,
he took possession of the most habitable part of the ancient
mission-house, and remaiued two months, himself and his ser-
vant being the only inhabkants of the village. At the end of
August, bo^'ever, the pr4est of Uchiza came to Tocache, which
was a sign for the scattered inhabitants of the mission to assem-
ble, as they always do when the missionary is there. Perhaps
an approaching holiday of the church was a still greater induce-
ment to their assembling; for unhappily the Christian religion,
though established among them above a hundred years, is valued
by these Indians only because it gives them opportunities for
drinking bouts in the numerous haUdaya which are observed.

Ob the 2d of September, Dr.Poeppig embarked from Tocache,
and arrived on the 4th at die miasioaof Sion, inhabited by Ludiaiis
of the nation of the Xibitos, and in the best state of preservation
of any on the Upper Hualinga. Here he was obliged to stop
for nearly three weeks, because the festival of San Roque, the
patix>n of the village, was at band, and the Indians could net be
persuadftdto miss the opportunity of oelebiating it in their usual

and on the River Amazam* 43

way. The coUeetioa of live amoials v/slb increased in Sion by
acquisitions from the Indians who returned from the chase.
What numbers of apes must live in the forests, appeared from the
quaHtities of smoked monkeys which this party brought back.
Tbey had lived for eight days on the flesh of monkeys, and yet
brought dOO with them, besides a great number that were alive,
and, notwithstanding their short captivity, remarkably tame.
Their mode of treating the old monkeys is original enouebu They
wound them with arrows steeped in weak poison, which only
stupifies them ; they suck the wound when the beast falls from
the tree, bury him up to the neck in fresh mould, and cram his
mouth with salt, by way of antidote. When the monkey has
come to himself, they bind him in broad pieces of cloth, like a
child in swaddling clothes, only so tight that it is/ impossible for
bin to nM»ve. So the prisoner remains a couple of days, and is
drenched with salt water as long as he shaws the least disposition
to bite. Those that are very violent are hung up at intervab in
the smoke over the fire« In a short time they are compelled to
eat cooked provisions, seasoned with capsicum, a& the node of
teaching them the ways of man ; and in ract this method of cure^
rough as it is, seldom fails.

Proceeding on the voyage, our traveller reached, on the 6th of
December, tne village of i urimagnas, the first in the province of
Maynas, where he remained till the month of July in the follow*
ing year* An entire chapter is dedicated to the description of
the province and its producUons — the manners, of the Indians of
tbe missions — the present state of the natives, &c. The collec-
tions were here augmented by eight large chests filled with the
skins of animals, and many pages of written descriptions and
numerous drawings prove what may be done by industry in the
forests,, where the claims of European society, that take up so
much time, are unknown. The last chapter in the work contains
the account of the voyage down the Amazons to Parfi. His
progress down this mighty river as far as Ega, where he proposed
to make some stay, was attended with numerous dangers* But
the dull an4 uniform banks offered little matter for observation.
At Ega he received great kindness from Senor Bernardino
Cauper, a Portuguese, as much distinguisfaed by hia superior
education as by the goodness of his heart Tbe necessary pre<-
pamlions for resaming his occupattons as a naturalist were soon
made, and, a rising of the river in the latter part of the year pt e^
vending excursions by land, the author made use of his boat.
The Inke, which is equal in size to that of Neufchfttel, has nu^
merons arms running into the interior, which, when the water is
high, form navigable canals into the heart of the forests. His

44 Poeppig's Travels in Chili, Peru,

boat was remarkable for its Hghtaess and rapid sailing* but oak
large enough to hold himself, his Peruvian servant, and his faitlt-
ful dog. They were often absent for days together, and veutared,
to the astonishment of the natives, into very distant canals, vbicb
none willingly visit, because they are supposed to be the hsunts
of gigantic water-snakes and innumerable alligators, which, with
the tnost fearless audacity, surround the frail bark.

Among the numerous plants, he was particularly struck wilh
the aquatic, which almost equal in size the celebrated raffiesia;
but far surpass it in the splendour of their colours. At £ga
appeared the first symptoms of the frightful state of revolutioa
which had already commenced in that part of Brazil. The troops
of plundering and bloodthirsty Mestigos, Mulattoes, and Negroes
had assembled in the environs of Par&, and had entered the
Amazons in numerous boats, having eveu been joined by part of
the soldiers sent against them. They \vent from place to place,
avoiding only the larger towns, murdered the Whiles with incre-
dible cruelty, and plundered and burnt the plantations.

Dr.Poeppig sailed from Ega on the 12th of February, in a
boat of thirty tons belonging to M.Cauper, who sent it with a
cargo of produce to Par^, and let out the cabin to our author.
They were, however, obliged to turn back, in consequence of an
official order which had been received, calling on the inhabitants
to prepare to resist the anarchists, and forbidding any person to
quit the place, so that they did not finally leave Ega titt the 8th
of March, 18S2, after a residence of seven months.

With the exception of a few interruptions, the voyage to Pari
resembled a flight, for the object was to reach that capital of the
province, before the apprehended separation of the interior took
place, and civil war broke out. The latter part of the voyage
was attended with great danger. After leavmg Santarem, they
suffered from want of provisions, as the inhabitants of the villages
had fled, or prudence mduced them to pass by under cover of the
night.

" The natural consequences could not fail to ensue, for, while T, for
the first time after many years* travelling, was so entirely exhausted
that the win was quite subdued by bodily weakness, fevers and colic
attacked the few remaining Indians, who had to conduct the hea^7
vessel to Par&, through a labyrinth of narrow channels. Our voyage
timidst this Archipelago was excessively tedious, for the few Indians
were so enfeebled by want and illness, that they were unable to row
the vessel, and much time was lost in waiting for the ebb, or from the
necessity of concealing ourselves when we approached some suspicious
place. With some apprehension of storms, we crossed the broad bay
of Limoeiro, which smaller vessels do not usually pass, but which wc
were obliged to choose, because the Rio Mojii, a Ikiuch less dangerous

and on the JUver Amazwu. 4^

4

lateral branch, was in the possession of the rebels. Amidst these hard^
ships we had advanced but slowly, and were scarcely able, on the 22A
of April, ta see the opposite shores of the basin. We soon entered
into branches of the stream, between islands where the Yegetation
appeared more pleasing. Nothing yet indicated the vicinity of a great
commercial city, for the majestip forests rose from th^ mirror of the
stream with the same^virgin beauty and stillness as in the distant and
uninhabited shores of the Peruvian Maranon. Morning at length
dawned. The report of a cannon rolled over the surface of the water^
others succeeded at regular intervals, and the melodious sound of many
bells was added, and announced to us the long-wished*for secure asy-
lum of Par&^ and the morning of Easter Sunday. The light mist sunk
into the water, aad the beams of the rapidly rising sun illumined the
long rows of houses of the well-built city. Some ships of vnr and
numerous merchantmen formed the foreground of the beautiful picture;
and .the Aag^ of my native Europe, as ^ to welcome .her son on. Ms
escape from so many dangers, slowly imfojded thei;: gay colo^rs in the
morning breeze. The anchor dropped; the bro^td continent was
crossed ; the goal was attained ; and a look of gratitude was raised to
Him, who, with a mighty hand, had guided the solitary wanderer, where
human aid and human pity would have been sought in vain.

" Pard was in that state of excitement and party hatred which had
already many times led to bloodshed, and was therefore very far from
offering a quiet abode. The friendly care of Messrs. John Hesketh,
Wilkinson, and Campbell, in conjunction with a more regular way of Hfe^
oontribttted so muck to restore my strength, that I was able, at the
expiration of ten days, to exchange the noisy cily for the more asree-
able abode in Cola^res, a little fishing village near the sea coast. Aknost
three months passed in waiting for a ship bound for the Netherlands.
Tliough this last jperiod was, for many reasons, less productive than the
preceding, it furnished some additions to my collections, especially in
live palms, which, however, were unfortunately partly destroyed in a
storm during the voyage, and partly by a stray bomb of the French at
Antwerp, wnete they had been left for the winter !n the care of a
gardener. Soon after my arrival in Colares, some painful hours were
caused by the death of my faithitil dog Pastor, who had courageously
accompanied me for five years, from Valparaiso to the coast of jBdN^il,
throu^i the storms of the ocean and the hurricanes of snow-covered
xnoimtains ; had been alwavs a cheerful and welcome companion on
blooming hills and in dark forests; had faithfully shared joy and
fatigue» abundance and poverty ; and now, at the end of the journey,
sunk under the effects of the last sufferings. Bitter tears feill upon the
grave, which aa orange-tree overshadowed, and which received the
laithful animal, to whom, afler the lapse of years, the en^otion and
gratitude of his former master here erect a perishable monument.

'* The Belgian brig Octavia, a small but quick-sailing vessel, bound for
Antwerp, o&red a favourable opportunity for returning home. Only
a few davs were spent in Pard, from which we sailed in the forenoon
of the 7th of August. ♦ ♦ Solenu^ were the moments of my par ting from

46 Po^pigV Traveb in CkUi, Ptrti,

America, the land of wonders, whtcli, as it had many years before
receired the novice on the shores of the West Indies, in the full splen*
donr of the tropical morning, now dismissed him in friendly repose, in
the evening twilight. The unclouded sun sunk with accelerated
rapidity in the horizon, and his last beams fell on the dbtani lines of
the primeval forest, which here covers the Hat coast of Braeil even to
the sea. Night at length, drew over all < her slow and gradaal veil,'
the continent had vanished, and reminiscences alone remained «8 the
fairest fruits of past enjoyments."

Thus then we have accompanied our traveller in bis long and
often perilous wanderings ; we have seen him bear, with uninter-
rupted equanimity, fatigues, hardships, dangers, and total seclu-
sion from human society, supported by his admiration of the
magnificent evidences of creative power, which, in those scenes
of wonder and astonishment, so forcibly impel tbe contemplative
mind '^ to look through nature up to nature's God»'' We- have
conceived his enthusiasm, for though we have not had the for-
tune to visit personally the scenes which he describes, we have
listened with delight to a Humboldt, to a Martins, and other
adventurous explorers of these continents, whose labours have
made us better acquainted with the inmost recesses of these
regions, than with some countries nearer home. We have at
tiroes indulged in Ely sian dreams of some future age ; when the
band of man shall have disarmed natiu*e of her terrors, without
despoiling her of her magnificence ; when civilization shall have
apread its blessings, without its evils, and the temples of a- pure
religion shall have taken the place of the hut of the savage and
of the tiger's den. But these Utopian visions have been too
soon dispelled by truth's unpitying beam, which has revealed to
us a far different prospect. We behold with a conviction which
no arauments can weaken, with a vividness of perception which
no efforts of our own can soften, the certainty of an impending
and tremendous conflict between the white, the negro, the co-
loured, and tbe Indian population, the fearful nature of wliich it
as as easy to foresee as it is awful to contemplate. Such is also
the opinion of Dr. Poeppig, who, in his account of Chili, has
the following observations :

" No country in America enjoys, to such a degree as Chili, the
advantages which a state derives from an homogeneous population and
the absence of castes. If this young republic rose more speedily than
any of the others from the anarchy of the revolutionary struggle,
and has attained a high degree of civilization and order, with a rapi-
dity of which there is no other example in this continent, it is chiefly
indebted for those advantages to the circumstance, that there are
extremely few people of colour among its citizens. Those various
transitions of one race into the other are here tmknown, which

unJ on the Siver Amazwts. * 4f

strangers find it so difficnlt to distinguisli, and wfaicb, in countries like
Brazil, must lead, sooner or later, to a dreadful war of extermination,
and in Peru and Columbia will defer to a period indefinitely remote
the establishment of general civilization. * * * If it is a great evil for
a state to have two very different races of men for its citizens, the
disorder becomes general, and the most dangerous collisions ensue,
when, by an unavoidable mixture, races arise which belong to neither
party, and in general inherit all the vices of their parents, but very
rarely any of their virtues. If the population of Peru consisted of
only Whites aad Indians, the situation of the country would be less
hopeless than it must now appear to every calm observer. Destined,
as they seem by Nature herself, to exist on the earth as a race, for a
limited period only, the Indians, both in the north and south of this
vast continent, in spite of all' the measures which humanity dictates,
are becoming extinct with equal rapidity, and in a few centuries will
leave to the Whites the undisputed possessicm of the country. With
the Negroes the case is different ; they have found in America a coun-
try which is even more congenial to their luiture than the land of their
origin, so that their numbers are almost everywhere increasing, in a
nanoer calculated to excite the xaoBt serious alarm. In the same
proi)artioo a^ they multiply, and the white population is no longer
recruited by fre(|uent supplies from the Spanish peninsula, the people
of colour likewise become more numerous. Hated by the dark
mother, distrusted by the white father, they look on the former with
contempt, on the latter with an aversion, which circumstances only
suppress* but which is insuperable, as it is fbunded on a high degree
of innate pride. All measures suggested* by experience and policy, if
not to amalgamate the heterogeneous elements of the population, yet
to order them so that tbey might aubsiat together without collision,
and contribute in common to the preservation of the machine of the
state, have proved fruitless. * * * The late revolutions have made
no change in this respect. The hostility, tlie hatred, of the many
coloured classes will continue a constant check to the advancement
of the state, full of danger to the prosperity of the individual citizens,
and perhaps the ground of the extinction of entire nations. The
fate which must soouer or later befall the greater part of tropical
America which is filled with negro slsgres, which will deluge the fair-
est provinces of Brazil with blood, and convert them into a desert,
where the civilized white man will never again be able to establish
himself, may not indeed afHict Peru and Columbia to the same extent;
but th\?8e countries will always suffer from the evils resulting from
the presence of an alien race. If such a country as the United
States feels itself checked and impeded by its proportionably less pre-
dominant black population ; and if there, where the wisdom and power
of the gavernment are supported by public spirit, remedial measures
are sought in vain ; how much greater must be the evil in countries
like Peru, where the supine character of the Whites favours incessant
revolutions, where the temporary rulers are not distinguished either for
prudence or real patriotism, and the infinitely rude Negro possesses

48 Poeppigfs Travik in Chili, Peru, i^c,

only brutal strength, which makes hitti doubly dangerous In such
countries, where morality is at so low an ebb ? He and his half-
descendant, the Mulatto, joined the white Peruvian^ to exp^l the
Spaniards, but would soon turn against tlieir former allies, were they
not at present kept back by want of moral energy and education*
But the Negro and the man of colour, far more energetic than the white
Creole, will in time acquire knowledge, and a way of thinking that will
place Utem on a level with the Whites, who do not advance in the same
pfopordon, so aa to maintain their superiority,"

When we consider all these circumstances, when we see
Buenos Ayres even now harassed by perpetual wars with the
Indians^ when we think of the frightful crimes that have already
taken place at Pari, we cannot but anticipate the consequences
that must enaue, if the Negroes should rise in a general Uiaur*
reciaon, and be joined by tho native Indians. We wonder at
the blind infatoatioa of the Brazilians, who, in defiance of their
owii'.lawsp still import 100,000 new slaves every year from Africa;
and we feel our minds depreseed by the nieianeboly persuaaion,
that the future faite of these fine comntries 'will prove ««en more
tremendous, than the awful denunciation -which threatens to ^it
the sins of the fathers upon the children, even to the thh'd nfid
fourth generation.

We muat not omit to mention, with due commendlition, the
sixteen striking views of the scenery of the Andes, which accom-
pany this interesting work.

Art. II. — 1. Lex Romana Surgundio)ium: ex Jure Romano et
Germanico illuslravit August, rrideric. Barkow, J. U. Doctor,
et in Universitate Literaria Gryphiswaldensi Antecessor.
Gryphiswaldiae. 1826. 8vo.

2. Corpus Legum, sive Brachylogut Juris Civiiis: ad Jidem
quatiuor jcoaiCMm $criptorum et principum editiomim emmdavH,
commentario$ criiicoSj locorum similium oimotationem^ votiiiam
Utterariam, indicesque adjeeit, itieditam incerli scriptorii Epi^
tomen Juris CiviliSf memo duodecimo saculo factam, exjcodice
Tubingensi edidit Eduardus Biicking, Juris utriusque Doctor,
ct in Universitate Frider. Guil. Rheuana £• O, Professor
Publicus. Berolioi. 1829« Bvo«

3. Lex Dei, nve Mosaicarum et Romanarum Legum Cdllatio r e
codicibui tnanuscriptis Vindohonensi et Yerceltensi, nuper re-
pertis, auciam aique emendatam edidit, notis indicibusque int4S-
travit Fridericus Blume, Hamburgensis, in Acaderaiia Geoi^ia

. ^ . Civil l4itp4 , 49

Augtiste 4(^^<^0r« MiigiT. Bftt. Hftnnovefseqtie Regi ab
Aulas Cofi8»< BoMifle. 1838. 8fo.

4. lifneniibttei Ddininot'uni, sive Coiitroversia velerum Juris Uo-
mani'tnUrpretum qiu Ghs^atores vocdniur : edidit et adnata-
iipfn^u$'itfu$(ravil .Guatayus l^l^iie], .Lipsiensi^. . Liwnt am*
nymi vet^^f^ollec^iq, Rqgerii umensmies, Dcmworumf Codicis
Uiimmi Qolhcfio, Htigoiini Diven-uUies aive Ghwisioufss Do^
minorum super ioio, G^^ponre Jh^U Civiiis; quihas adceduftt
JSxcerpta e Rogerii Summa Codicis, Jlugoli/n DislincH(^nbus
et CiuiistionupilCollectiofiibus, Omnia piteter Rogerii Dis^eu"
sionesnmc primiim ecodicibus edita,et indicibns rerum, glos^
satorunij, legufff, glossarum frntrucla^ Lipsjae. 1834. Bvo.

Op ihQiftfdonr nid entlitisiasili wkk wfafich the stnAy of the dvil
law U wm p^osecHMxl iw Gkermany, these four puMlcftltonv afibrd
ft signal pneof* . In what othto cbkintty wcmiM the same booKa
find a^cbtafaieecKtora^ or indeed anj^ edttora whatsoever; and in
wh'at».othei( contttry wouU ihej ha^ found publishers i Here we.
are.AOtipKesented ntoMi thejoreoiouareliqiiies of- the classical civi-
lians, Df.jMbcb .writem-aa Caiue* Ulpian^ and Paiilua^ but with
ibose .of iiabielesft writera of the lower and middle ages. Bvery
scattered remnant of ancient jurisprudence, however mutilated or
d0fig«redi aAtrpota the eager attention of the learned jurista with
whom, thali country so eonapiououaly abopunda: they posaeas suf-
ficient industry, as well as sufficient akilly to separate the goM
from the dross ; and, from the most unpromising materials, from
what to less practised eyes^ niigbt appear a heap of rubbish, they
sometimes extricate fragments of no inconsiderable value. It ia
besides to^be npted that men of erudition have their own peculiar
recreations^ in which the uninitiated cannot participate, and of
which they cannot form an adequate conception ; nor is it very
hard to conceive that Haubold or Hanel may have been as much
entertained with the Dissemiones Dominorum, as any slender
dam^r with th^ most bepuffed of all the novels that have issued
f^om^any-metPopoUtan shop. We must certainly admit that the
entevteifiaient is neither identical nor similar; but diflferent palates
are j^ratified by dishes of the most dissimilar flavour.

The book here described as Lex Romana Btirgnudiomim was
ornrtoaily printed under the perpleicing and unappropriate title of
'' ^apia'ili liber Reaponsoram,*' and under that title it has gene-
rally been quoted and recognised. In the year 1566, it was first
publiabed' by Cujaciua^i who subjoined it to his edition of the
Theodosian Code* . The name.ol^Papianuswaa utterly unknown
in tbe annals of jurisprudence; not: does the book contain the

&0 Civil Law.

opinions of a lawyer on particular cases, but a fermal treatise on
various titles of the law. It seems indeed to be ascertaiped
beyond all doubt that the name of the author, as well as the title
of the book, is only to be traced to an error of the copyist and
inadvertency of the editor. Of the Breviarium of Anianus, all
the complete manuscripts conclude with a minute fragment of an
illustrious civilian, '' Papiniani lib. i. Responsorum ;* but in this
as well as in other passages where the name occurS| it is uni-
formly written Papianus instead of Papinianus.* As the error b
thus repeated in difFerent places, it may have originated from the
use of a contraction in writing the name. Cujacius is supposed
to have printed from a manuscript in which the fragment now
mentioned was immediately succeeded by the Lex Romana, and
to have mistaken the rubric of this fragment for that of the sue*
ceeding treatise. In the Vatican Library there is a manuscript
which exhibits the very same contents and arrangement. In a
subsequent edition, printed at Paris in 1586, he varied the title of
the book, describing it as " Burgundionis J. C. qui Papiani
Responsorum titulum pnefert, liber.*' This description refers us
to the true origin of the book, which appears very clearly to have
been compiled for the use of the Roman subjects belonging to the
ancient kingdom of Burgundy.

In the preamble to the Lex Burgundionum, we meet with the
following passage : " Inter Romanos vero interdicto simili con-
ditione venalitatis crimine, sicut a parentibus nostris statutuoi est,
Romanis legibus praeciptmus judicari : qui formam et exposi*
tionem legum conscriptam, qualiter judicent, se noverint accept
turos, ut per ignorantiam se nullus excu8et."f This passage was
written in the second year of the reign of Gundebald, that is, in
the year 517. His barbarian subjects were to be governed by
one code of laws, and his Roman subjects by another. When
the first code was completed, the second was promised: the
Roman subjects, indulged with the privilege of being governed
by their national laws, were to be furnished with such a form
and exposition as should regulate the judicial proceedings in
which they were solely concerned. Lindenbrog perceived that
the work ascribed to Papianus was precisely such a compen-
dium as might be supposed to suit this purpose ; and Cujacius
had evidently arrived at the same conclusion when he described
it as the work of a Burgundian lawyer. Gothofredus and
other writers remarked that the order of arrangement was almost
the very same in both works; and, as this order is not such as

* Conredi Parerga, p. 101. Savigny, Bd. ii. S. S4.

t Lindenbrogii Codex Legum Autiquuram, p. 267. edit* FriuicoC 1613, fol.

BarkaWf Bocking^ Blumej and HaneL 5 1

obviously presents iUelf^ we naturally infer that, so far as relates
to the distribution of the titles, the one book served as a model
for the other. A strong presumption likewise arises from the
barbarian regulations which this civilian borrows from the laws of
the Bnrgundians. The second title, De Homicidiis, concludes
with the subsequent passage : '* £t quia de pretiis occisorum
nihil evidenter lex Romana constituit, dominus noster statuit ob-
servandum, ut, si ingenuus ab ingenuo fuerit interemptus, et
homicida ad ecdesiam confugerit, ipse qui homicidium admisit,
cum medietate bonorum suorum occisi heredibus serviturus addi-
catur, reliqua medietas facultatis ejus heredibus relinquatur. Si
vero servus cujuscunque occisus fuerit ab ingenuo, et ipse homi*
cida ad ecclesiam convolaverit, secundum servi qualitatem infra
scripta domino ejus pretia cogatur exsolvere, hoc est, pro actore
c. sol., pro ministeriali lx„ pro aratore, aut porcario, aut virvicario,
aut aliis seryis xxx., pro aurifice electo c«, pro fabro ferrario 1.,
pro carpentario xl. inferantur. Hoc ex praecepto domini regi^
convenit observari/' The Roman laws had not, like the bar-
barian codes of the middle ages, regulated the price of blood ; .
but the Roman subjects of this barbarian king were not to be
left without a table of fees. The prices for the homicide of dif-
ferent classes of persons generally correspond with the regu*
lations established by the code of the Burgundiaus.

This anonymous writer appears to have drawn his materials
from the Institutes of Caius, the '^ Sententiae Receptae'* of Paulus.
the Gregorian, Hermogenian, and Theodosian Codes, and from
the novels of several emperors. What he has derived from these
different sources, is distinguished with great care and accuracy by
the learned editor. The work, as now published, consists of
forty-seven titles, which are generally very short and simple ; nor
is it to be supposed that all the leading objects of legal cogni*
zance can be comprised within such narrow limits. As little is
it to be expected that this civilian of Burgundy, writing during
the sixth century, and at a distance from Constantinople and
Berytus, can always be found a safe guide in questions of pure
Roman law. The incidental value of his work has however been
recognized by the most competent judges, and among the rest by
Savigny, who remarks that it contains many passages of ancient
jurisprudence, of which no other traces are now to be disco-
vered.* The author had access to many pure sources, which
have long been closed by the mouldering ruins of time. But he
did not possess sufficient skill to preserve unsullied the valuable

■ . ■ ■■ ■ ■■— ^— ^^» ..■■■»! P. iiy . , I , i, . . ■ . ■■ . I ■. ■ . la^ii— fc

* Savignjr's GMcblchte des Romlwhen Kechts im Mittelalter, Bd. il. S.39.

e2

52 Civil Law.

fragments wliich he incorporated in bis motley fabric; and to
render it available for' the illustration of ancient jurisprudence,
required no inconsiderable effort of learning, ingenuity, and in-
dustry. Such was the principal part of the task undertaken bv
Dr. Barkow ; and this task he appears to have executed in a
manner highly creditable to bis professional character. The wori,
as appended to several early editions of the Theodosian Code, is
without any commentary or notes. Sclmlting inserted Papiawis
in his collection entitled ** Jurisprudentia vetns AnteJustini-
anea," which was first printed at Leyden in the year 1717, am)
he added some annotations which are not very elaborate. He
w as a man of great erudition, and of eminent knowledge of the
civil law« but it was not consistent with his genera) plan to bestow
much time and space upon this particular tract. After the lapse
of half a century, the task of illustration was more ambitiously
attempted than successfully performed by Amaduzzi. The text
was next printed in the "Jus' Civile Antejustinianeum/' xAnA
appeared at Berlin in the year 1815. This collectioii was pub-
lished by an association of civilians ; and the care of the Lei
llomana devolved upon F. A. Biener, ^ho has more reccnll}
distinguished himself by different works. He has subjoined va-
rious readings, but no commentai'y. HhhertO'the book bad never
been published in a separate form ; and this edition of Barkow
is therefore recommended by many different cit'cumstiances. The
volume commences with a preface, which extends to sixtj-sis
pages, and embraces all the preliminary information that am
reader could be supposed to require or wish for. A very elaborate
commentary is placed under the text; after which follow the
various readnigs, consistmg of tmrty-scven pages.

The work entitled Lex Dei is apparently a production of ncarl)
the same age,* The author is supposed by Gothofredus to have
been contemporary with Cassiodorus, who flourished about the
middle of the sixth cehtury. A conformity has been traced be-
tween the sentiments as well as the style of the two writers; and
Blume has remarked that quia^ instead of quod, and incipit go-
verning an accusative, seem to indicate that the anonymous au-
tlior could scarcely have written before the year 500. When bis

* Variocis writers of u more rtcent age Invc instituted a formal compiiison l)ctwe^n
U)c Jewish and Roman Iqws. One of these is William Wellwood, prorcssor of law i*
llie universitjr of St. Andrews, who published a M-ork bearing Uie fbllo^mg tiiie*
"Juris Divlui Judaioxuin «c Juris Civilia Romauoruiu Parallela ; sWe ulriusque e sab
undequaque sedibus ad verburo trnnscriptt ocularis Collatio: aulliore Gulielmo Velvod.'
Lngd. Bat. I594t 4fo. This work is followed by an appending with a regular liiltf-pag<
containing the same date: *' Ad expcdiendos Processas in Jadiciia £cdesiastici<)
Appendix Parallelorum Juris divini humaniqae.'*

Barkow, Bockii^t BlumCy and H'dnel. 53

work, was first discovered in the 8i:iteenth ceatiiry, Du Tilleti
diarondas^ Cujaciusy and others, ascribed it to a certain Luci-
uius. Rufiuus ; but upon what authoritj^ or according to what
confecture, it appears extremely difficult to ascertain. They
evidently could not confound him with an eminent lawyer q( the
same name^ who was contemporary with Julius Paulus^ and
therefore belonged to a much earlier age. Zimmern, a recent
and diftinguisbed historian of the Roman law» is inclined to be-
lieTe thai he may have been a Jew; but we perceive no adequate
reason for departing from the current opinion, which represents
hhn as a Christian. Freherus and Otto suppose him to have
been a monk: Biume replies that before the age of St. Benedict
there were ^ery few monks in the western parts of Europe, and
still fewer who could have cultivated the study of letters. Cassi-
odorusj whom we have mentioned as the supposed contemporary
of the anonymous writer, was himself the founder of a monastery
in a remote part of Calabria, and in this retreat he closed a long
life, whick fa^d been much devoted to profane as well as sacred
literalare* It is at least highly probable that the writer in ques-
tion waa^tn ecclesiastic of some denomination. The knowlcdjge
wfaieh he displays of the sacred writings renders this ah obvious
conjecture. From his mode of addressing the lawyers, " scitote
jurisconsttUi/' it has been inferred that he was not himself of
their number, for this is not like a man addressing a body to
wbicli he himself belonged. Blupie, by some inadvertence, has
stated that.sLu;h an argument was first employed by Finestres, in
the <prol^omena to his edition of Schulting's " Jurisprudentia
Ante^Justinianca.." Ceruarise, . 1 744, l^mo. In two different
works, Gothofredus had anticipated this argument by an entire
century.*

The chief value of such a work as this obviously lies in its pre
serving scntter^d. fragments which might otherwise have been lost.
The author had access to many treatises which have utterly
perished, or of which we only possess the mutilated remains ; and
as be collected his materials with a considerable degree of . in*
dustry, his. labours have found due acceptance with the most
learned of the modern civilians. Nor are they without some de-
gree of interest to theologians.^ The editor is inclined to be-
lieve that the passages of the Old Testament he must either have
quoted by memory, or rendered from some < Greek version.
" Qttamobrem mea quidem sentenlia eo potissimum inctioat, col«

— — "^^"^-■^~-*— ^— ^— ^^-^ ---- ■■_..^^__.^..-. ■ — -_..^^^ — .. *-r-rf — ^-"--tf^ -ir*T — * — " — -—-y^ — itt"—— r— — *"^ — ^

* J. Oothofredi Manuale Juris, p. 63. FroIegQaicna Codicjs Tlieodoslani, cup. iii.
f Sipe Bisbap Miinter's FragtaenU Veisiouis antiquie Lutine Antehieron^iuianaB,
ill tbet MitCilUnea Uafuittma, torn* a. p, 89* . .

54 Civil Law.

lectorem ea loca quce aidfert, vel memoria minus cxacte tenuine,
vel ex Grwca quadam interpretatione ipsum vertisse/' Venenui,
a learned divine, was of opinion that be must either have em*
plojred a version of his own, or quoted from some versioD now
unknown. The supposition of his reljing to anj extent open
his memory, in digesting so long a series of quotations, seems to
fall considerably short of probability*

This relique of ancient jurisprudence has already appeared in
about twenty different editions, of which the earliest was pobiiafaed
by Pierre Pithou in the year 1573. Another was published bj
H« Stephanus in a small volume entitled ** Juris Civilis Fontea
et Rivi/' which made its appearance in 1580. The tract was in*
serted in the collections of Van Leeuwen and Schulting. Id tbe
Berlin collection of 1815, it was printed under the superiutend-
ence of Biener. Notwithstanding the labours of so many pre**
cursors. Dr. Blurae has found ample room for the exercise of hia
leaniing and industry. He has produced an elaborate and cri*
tical edition, which will be found of no inconsiderable value lo
those who prosecute similar studies with suitable ardoor, with
sttch ardour as is now displayed in the universities of Germraj.
His prolegomenai consisting of forty- four pages, exhibit a copmia
account of the book^ of the manuscript copies which have
hitherto been traced, and of the various editions and coronea-
taries. One manuscript he himself discovered in tbe librarj of
the chapter of Veroelli* His more brief notes, relating to the
adjustment of the text, and containing references to the original
sources from which it is derived, are placed at the bottom of each
page ; and, under the title of Excursus eriiiei, he has sabjoined
some more extended annotations, which however are neither nn*
roerous nor diffuse. Several useful indices, prepared with due
care and accuracy, close this curious voluo^,
. The Corpus Legum evidently belongs to a more recent age.
Senckenberg supposes it to have been written soon after the
reign of Justinian, and he concludes that it nmst have been
written by a native of Italy or Africa; but the arguments with
which he supports these opinions are so extremely slender, that
he appears to have made very few converts. A very diflfereat
theory was proposed by Saxius ; who conjectured that tbe real
aathor of the work was no other than Apel, by whom he erro-
neously supposed it to have been originally published. Joannes
Apellus, or Johann Apel, was born at N urn berg in I486, and
died there in 1536. After completing his law studies, he became
a canon of Wiirzburg, and councillor to the bishop ; but, having
been compelled to leave the diocese in consequence of marryii^
a nun, he was in 1524 appointed professor of law in the uni*

Barkow, Backing, Blame, and H'dneL 55

versttj of Witteoibergi and for this office he was partly indebted
to the friendship of Luther. In 1530 he became chancellor to
the duke of Prussia; and it was during his residence at Konigs-*
berg thai he found a manuscript of the work now under consi-
deration^ The manuscript he has described in his ** Isagogc per
dialogum in iiii. lib^ Instftutionum." This work was subjoined
to an edition of the ancient treatise^ printed at Louvain in the
year 1551 ; aod« from his mention of such a manuscript being
discovered on the remote shores of the Baltic, as well as from the
simibrily of bia own method of expounding the law^ Saxius^ who
imagined that this was the first edition, and that it was published
by Ape) himself, was led to suspect that he was the author of the
work which he pretended to have rescued from oblivion. This
opinion was adopted by Piittmann, Btockmann, and Hummel,
hot was aufficiently refuted by Cramer and Weis, and more re-
cently by Savigny. Apel was never a professor at Louvain, and
this edition appeared fifteen years after his death. The first
edition of Ifae Brachylogus was published in 1549, and several
manusoripts of a much earlier date are still preserved. The
fonrtb bcNdk, p. 131, contains a passage tirhich furnishes us with
some materials for chronology : '* Quod autem clericus adversus
laicum testis esse non possit, vel contra, in cap^tulari legis Longo-
bardiesB cautom est; in legibus autem Romanis non memini me
invenisse; immo contrarium in multis locis constitutum esse
cognoTi." Here the author refers to a eapitulary of Louis the
Pious, who began bis reign in the year 814. Senckenberg,
finding this note of time irreconcileable with his theory, rejects
the passage as an interpolation ; but, as it contains nothing to
excite suspicion, and occurs in all the known manuscripts and
editions, we think it impossible to approve of his trenchant mode
of obviating a critical difficulty. From the passage lately quoted,
Savigny iofeiy that the book was written in Lombardy. He is
disposed to refer its composition to the commencement of the
twelfth oenturyy aad be even hazards a conjecture that it may
have been the production of Imerius.

None of the manuscripts, except that of Vienna, has any title
prefixed, and the title which it exhibits is altogether inappropriate :
'* Snmma Novellarum Constitutionum Justiuiani imp/^ The
first two editions bear the inscription of *' Corpus Legum ;" and
tiie tbird, published by Pesnot in t553, is entitled '^ Brachy logos
totius Juris Civilis, sive Corpus Legum." Both titles have since
been used in their turn. The plan of the work is nearly the same
as that of (he Institutes of Justinian, which the anonymous writer
has partly abridged ; and he has partly derived his materials from
other sources, the Paadects, tl^ Code, and the Novels* in his

56 CMlLaw. » ^

quotations from the latter cotledtlon^ he seedM uniforttily«ld have
employed the epitome of Juibinus, whom he has frequenUj copied
word for word. Savigny ib &f opiiMOfi tb«t be has made no ufle
of the Breviariuni of Anianus, but, wkk respect to- this f>oiii^
fiiScking arrives at a different conetasMifK Asto the vain* of the
work» they are sufficiently agreed. ll)is value; it may eisily be
conceived, does not consist in any originalily of discussuai cm the
principles of the Roman law; but; in an liittonoiBl -point of view,
the Brachylogus is of no smalt importance. It 'ippsLrentiy be*
longs to the era immediately preceding that of the glogmi€m;
and, as Savigny remarks, it serves to eVtnoe-'that soase indiin
duals then possessed a knowtedge of the It^ by no meaiiadetfii-
cable.* .1,' ' • *

Dr. Bocking has enumerated twenty-two previoas* edittoas of
the work. The fii*st of these is appended to -an^ediliaD of die
Institutes, printed at Lyon in the }'eaf 1549, " dptid SeuDetonios
Fratres.'' Several of the early editors have added >iaotB9< 'The
edition of Reusner, Frtincofurti, 15S6, 8vo. appealed <^>oiiid
paratitlis ejusdem, ac notis perpetuis, quae commentaru vice' esse
possunt.'* A more pompous edition was at'leidglh pablisbed by
Seuckenbcrg, a professor of law- in the university of ^tiosseo.
Francofurti et Lipsies, 1748/ 4to.' In q long preface, ^wfaich' he
is pleased to call prafameu, and which is written in a peculiar
style of Latinity, the merits of bis ^mthor are very iiighly esti-
mated ; and he there expresses his determinalioo to adopt the
Brachylogus as a text-book for his academical prelections. Tbc
choice cannot be considered as very judicious, nor is it to be sup-
posed that his example found nuiny imitators. ' Biiicking bn^ re-
printed the prefaces of former editors, has subjoined an account
of the diAerent manuscripts and editions, and lias discussed the
age of the writer, as well as the tnefits of his work, aiid the
sources of his knowledge. The preliminary matter occupies one
hundred and twenty-eight pages, and contains very ample in-
formation. He has subjoined critical annotatiooSf and,, apart
from these^ perpetual references to the ancient texts ; nor has he
excluded the glosses and notes of the manuscripts and former
editions. He seems to have been well qualifi«4 ^Qr the task
which he undertook, and the book is now exhibited in a very
satisfactory state- The Epitome inserted at the end of the volume
had been previously noticed by Savigny and Schrader.

We now descend to the age of the glossatof^eSf or those writers
who used their best endeavour to elucidate the civil law soon
after that study began to be prosecuted with renewed vigour*

Savjgn^'s Gescliiciite des Rbiuischeu RechU im MUtelalter, Bd. ii. S» 255.

Barkow, Boding, Blume, and HlineL 57

They Uboured under many disadvantages, kicident to a period
of inlelleotual darkness. lu die knowledge of pkilology aud
huiloryy so requisile for understaiKling the scope and spirit of
ancient jarisprndence, tkey were unavoidably deficient, :and were
tberefofse cbargeable with mistakes and misconceptions into which
no niodeni (iro could easily fall. But these peculiar faults must
be imputed to the barbarous age in which they lived; their merits
aa acute and indefotigable expounders of the law were entirely
their own*. Sonne of the more recent and more elegant civilians,
particttlariy Akiatua, Duarenus^ Hotnian, Govea, and Muretu9»
have treated them with undeserved contempt; but many others^
and omoog these Cujacius, Gravina,* and Byukershoek, have
amply commended the sagacity and perseverance with which
Accnistiis and the xeat of that family have investigated the most
intrioate ^meslions ikf law. Their merits were higk^ extolled by
Wieiing, in his. ^'Oretio pro Glossatoribu8;"t Aud Hanelbas
discussed, iheir eharacter M'ith ability and discrimination. :|:
Brnnquell pisblished a learned prolusion on their sects and conr
troverHea4 which necessarily find a place in the general histories
of the civtl law ; and, at a very recent period, the character and
tho works of the< glo/uatores, have been rendered more cpnspi-
ouously known by the profound and masterly researcbea of :Sa-

* Gfkvhln Orighheslttrit Clfilb, p. f 13.

i WJtHiRg L^tiosasi J^ris CivUis Jibri duo, p, $9tf ediu Te^. ad Rbeli.
17-K), 8vo.

i " ^uod vero glossatorum scripU edo/* snjs Hand, *' nemiricm fbre arbttrofi qui
in imlini \t^rtem Intcrfiftotietiir. - Euiralm feunt^ qui illpt naaicentis juris 'Aocaani
Mictncft c«nleiau«f)tj coaquo mem ioeptjat pc^tuU^ie audacter Ad/irrocnt, tauitjp i»ti
gJvssatonun tcripta non modo non tegisse, ycruiu iie inspexissc quidcm videntur, quum
si unius AzonU Summain ct pfsecipue Lccturam Codids fevltet tantum gusUissent,
aeqaius fertasie Jodlciaro fecbicnt. Debeniaa enim in UUs non sotom ac&men ingeDif,
venioi cliam. aviaii couatatriiam admirarir <iui omnibus fere su^idill. i|uibas Jiostra
state iusUucti suoiaSi de^lituU, ei ingentis nioHs voluminibtis, sseplssinie corrupte
scriptis, disjecta doctrins membra conqnirebanl atqoe ordinabantj et qus inter se pug-
narr vidttMSMur, itm petite coociliabani, ut etiamnonoitt jave coatroversooiiiltas eorara
op'nHmes, qoamquMi aadoroai oooien rftkxntes^icBeamiu tt in foro sequi poadedjg-
ncmur, Omntao iili juris librus^ quos possidebunt, tam diligcntcr traclabant, ut eos
memoria tcncrent, tam docte et jucundc inferpretabantur, ut lucredibilis nobilissimorom
ei omitibus Earops partibiis jurmuni mnltltado ad iliorum soholas concurreret* qoibas
iebaa»ia«tani erant avctorilaiem ooosequuts ut da gniTissiaiis cauaij^ qvi summam rerum
iUo tempore teoebant, ad cot r|:feiTent, Itaqoe ^lossatoras semper colui, quum nitor
et summa in excolendis opcfibus manos roagis videri debeat teraporibns quam Spsis
defoisse, ut veteris que didtor schde picturas magni babeo, etsi nuao eadem rea ail-
nntios ad artis legolas piugi potest. 4djuvat prsterca glossator um lectio )»istorie
stadium. Multas enim opiniones niultasquc controTcrsie etiamnunc agitatas jam in
glossatorum scripiis Icguntur.'*

f fir onqticflli OpasooU ad Hntortam et Juns|)nidenlfata speotaniia* pi 305. llalas
Magd. 1774, fivo.

* Savigny's GcKbidite des RomiKlien Rechts im Mittdalter. Heidelberg, 1815-

5S Civil Laf».

The first and oldest tract which occurs in Dr« Hraers col-
lectioiif be conjectures to bsve been written in Italj atxHit the
middle of the twelfth century. The author^ whose name has not
been discovered^ begins by sttfting that there are said to be four
lUies of the lawy yielding good and various odours : '* QiMMnaoi
quatnor ease legum dicuntur lilia, varios bonosque odores refe-
rentia/' These fragrant lilies are Martinus, Bulgarus* Hago a
Porta Ravennate, and Jacobus Hugolinus^ who were all pro-
fessors of the civil law in the university of Bologna, and wrfaose
differences of opinion in expounding particular doctrioca be
undertakes to specify. But bis attention is chiefly directed to
the opinions of Martinus and Bulgarus*

The second tracts that of Rogerius Beneventanus '* De Dis-
sensionibus Dominoroni/' was first printed ia the year 1M7. An
edition of it was published by Haabold,t to whose learned labean
the students of ancient jurisprudence are so much indablad.
Wenck^ another very able professor in the same univer^ty^ who
has illustrated the history of the gla$$atori$, is inclined to beHeve
that the author wrote between 1 127 and 1 ld8 ; but t£kiel fixea
upon a period somewhat more recent^ and places the compoMtioa
of jtbe work between i 150 and Il6ii. Of the materials sapplied
by his anonymous predecessor, Rogerius seems very freely to
have availed himself. .

Another work of a nameless author^ described by a good
alliteration as " Codicis Chisiani Collectio/' follows in the order
of arrangement. Hanel supposes it to have been writleo about
the close of the twelfth century. The author mentions the naases
of many recent writers on the civil law, all of whom, so far as can
be aaeertamed, were natives of Italy, and it is highly probaUe
that he likewise belonged to that country. From the two pre-
vious collections he has transcribed entire paragraphs.

The *^ Dissensiones Dominorum" of Hugoliiitts form a work
of much greater extent than the other three combined. It com-
prehends no fewer thau 470 paragraphs. Savigny and Hanei are
both of opinion that the author must have written about the be**
ginning of the thirteenth century. He has to a great extent in-

S%, 6 Bd«. Sra. How far the Eaglith iawjers are disposed or prepared to avail ihem-
seWes of his researclies, may partly be iofcrred from the following erudite passage,
which occors in a very recent publication : " The Pandects were diseovered at Amal'
phi in 1137, Sd Stephen. S Black. Com. 66.** (Merewether and Stephens's History
of the Boroughs and Municipal Corporations of the United Kingdom, vol. i. p. 6,
Lond. 1855, S vols. 8vo.)

i Rogeiii Beneveniaoide Dissensionibus DoiDiBomm, sire de CoutroYersib veteram
Juris Romani luterpretnm, qui Glossatores vocanlor, Opuscoluui : eiMiidtttiis adidit
D. OniUMBi Gottlieh HaoboMI, &g. Lipsla^ 18$1, Sto*

Barkoto, Blickisig, Blume, and HaneL 59

corporated die collections of his three predecessors, and has made
many additions of his own. He mentions most of the writers
whose names occur in the third collection, together with several
others^ and among these Azo, Odericus, and Vacarius; of whom
tlie latter is best known to our countrymeni as having been the
first professor of the civil law in England. His history was how-
ever involved in much obscurity till the appearance of Wenck's
very elaborate and accurate work.*

All these reliqnes of jurisprudence are published with the most
scrupulous care and diligence ^ nor can it escape the observation
of any one who inspects the volume, that the editor must have
bestowed upon it no small portion of time and labour. He com*
roences with a preface of sixty pages, and has illustrated his dif-
fei^ent authors with a double series of annotations^ the one coih
takuBg references to a variety of writers who have discussed the
same subjects, and the other relating to the readings aod eraen^^
dation of the text. His references to manuscript authorities, and
to QlbcT obscure sources of information^ are very numerous. His
style of annotation is concise, and he compresses much erudition
witbiii » narrow compass* Four different indices, very labori*'
oiisly compiled, complete a volume 0f nearly eight hundred pages.

Dtw Hanel is a professor of law in the university of Leipzig^
and is not unworthy successor of Haubold and Wenck. To his
ardour in exploring the libraries of various countries^ Frartce,
Switzerland^ the Netherlands^ Britain, Spain, and Portugal, we
have elsewhere bad occasion to allude. To this learned pere-
grination he devoted several years of his life, as well as some
considerable share of bis private fortune ; and, returning to his
native country with a very ample stoek of raateriak> he speedily
begaui to communicate to the public some portions of Ms literary
wealth. The earliest of his works was his catalogue ^ manu*
scripta: the Di$Wi9ione$ Domimorum followed after an interval of
four yoars; and be now meditates editions of the Gregorian^
Herraiogenian, and Tbeodofttan Codes, and of the Breviarium of
Aniauoa* For such a task be is eminently qualified, not only by
his karoiBg and acuteiMSs, but likewise by tbe previous course of
his researches.

* Mtgisler Vacarius^ prrmos Juris Roromi in Anglia Professor, ex timaUmn mono-
(uentls et opere icciirate descripto illuatratus. Juris Romani in Bononiensis Scliolae
initiis fortunam tllustrans, eniendationeni, iAterpretationem bodiernara invaus, studiis
Caron f rkkrici Cfariatiani Weock, Jof. Doct. et Prof. Lips. Jj^m, 18S0, 8vo.

^*m

( to )

Art. hi. — K Istoria cT Italia di Messer Francesco Guicciardini
a miglior lezione ridoUa, dal Professore Giovanni Rosioi.
6 vol. 8vo. Parigi, 1832.

'2. Storia S Italia^ continuata da quella del Gincciardiui shio al
I7S9,di Carlo Botta. 10 vol, 8vo, Parigi, 1833.

3. Annali d' Italia dal 1750 al 1819f compilati da A. Coppi in
continuazione di quelli del Muraiuti* 4 vol. 8yo» Roiua» A8S7.

The history of modern Italy, as essentially connected with the
general history of the other European states, begins with the end
of the fifteenth and the commencement of the sixteenth centuries.
Before that time» and during tha^ long preceding period called
the middle ages, Italy, divided into numerous municipal republics
and principalities^ formed a political world of itself, the compo-
nent parts of which were as much^ if not more, divided and
diversified in their social system, their interests, and their policy,
as the other nations of Europe were among themselves. Accord-
ingly, it is impossible to give a satisfactory single history of all
Italy during the middle ages. Every republic, every principality,
of that period has it^ own distitict annafk or cfaronictes; which
are like so many separate paintings, each occabying a frame of
its own, so that, while we are looking into the' history of Venice,
of Florence, of Milan, of Genoa, of Rome, and of Sicily, we
have a cosmoramic view of each of those States, but we can
never embrace a panoramic outline of the whole of Italy.
We find, it is true* the history of one state often connected
with that of some of its neighbours, but the connection is
merely tmnporary, and soon after- we lose «iglit of it -alto-
gether. There was rro preponderating power round which the
other states moved id orbits; ^ch formed a system of itself.
From the time of the Lombard league, the Imperial authdrity in
Italy had become nlerely nominal. The irruptions of the An-
gevins and the Aragonese had ended by establishing native dynas-
ties in Southern Italy, independent of the countries whence they
originally came. Venice was a maritime poM'er more OrienWk! than
Italian. The dominion of the popes, as temporal sovereigns, was
very limited ; their authority was contested by the barons and
the municipalities, even in the territory nominally belonging to
the See of Rome, and was restrained on every side by its neigli-
bours, — Naples^ Florence, arid Venice. Some aspiring individu-
als,— the Visconti, Ladislaus of Naples, and Alfonso after him, —
strove to create a preponderating power in Italy, bat they failed.
Wiser heads endeavoured to establish a balance of power between
the ItaTinu ^tates/so as to secure the rights tind independence of

General History of Modem Italy\ 6i

each, resembling in principle the balance which the statesmen of
Europe in after-ages conceived and strove to maintain, for the
sake of guarding against the encroachments of the houses of
Austria or of Bourbon. This equilibrium among the Italian
states, between Florence and Milan, Venice and Naplesi an-
swered its purpose as long as the little world of Italj, msulated
as it were from the rest of Europe, had to guard only against
native ambition; but when there rose beyond the Alps other and
much more formidable powers, who began to look upon Italy as
an easy.prey^ then the Italian system of balance of power, instead
of strengthening t}ie country against the danger from abroad,
wei^akened it by keeping alive old jealousies and animosities. A
confederacy of all the Italian states would have been then morp
to the purpose. The great Lorenzo de' Medici perceived the
want of such a bond of union, and he attempted to supply it by
an alliance between Florence, Milan, and Naples, but. his death
frustrated his yet immature design. Private ambition, rival
jealousies, and general dishonesty, opened Italy to the army of
Charles VIII. and from that moment Italian independence was
last,

'' So long, as ,\ht three great nations .of Europe (France^ Germany,
an4.3pain) were niiable^ .tbi:ough internal dias^ensions.or foreign war, to
put for^h tb^r natural sti;ength, the Italians ha<l so little to dread for
their independence, that their policy ivas altogether directed to the
regulation of the domestfc balance of power among themselves. In
the latter part of the I5th century a more enlarged vfew of Europe
would have manifested the necessity of reconciling pettjr animonties,
atfd sa(^rifich)g petty ambition m order to preserve the nationality of
fbelf governments, not by attetvptiBg to melt down Lombards and
Netpditans, prineipalitles and republicSf iHto a stngk* nwnarchy, but
by tbe mone just and rational sehemeof a common fedenition» The
jioUticiaDs «f Italy were, ahnndantly competent, as far as cool and cbver
undeistandings could' render theqH). to {lercfivp.the interests of their
country. Bat it is tbe wili of Prpyidence that tbe highest and surest
wisdom, even in matters of policy, should never be unconnected with
virtue.'* — Hallams Europe during the Middle ^ges, cb. iii.

LudovicOi Sforza, in-order to sepure his usui^pation.of the
duchy. of Milap ov^r his own. nephew,, invited, the French to the
conquest of Naples; Florence,. under the weak Piero de Medici,
abetted the invaders; and the Borgias at Rome, after repeatedly
betraying both parties, sided with, the stronger. The French
went to Naples, were driven away, c^me^again under Louis XII.,
and tbe Aragonese c^n^s^ of ^^ples, who in their distress had
applied to their relative, Ferdinand of Sp^jn,for assistance, found
themselves, stripped of every tlyng by their, own perfidious ally.
^Fbe French and Sipaniards Ihep .^usirrcJled about the ^poila; tbe

68 Qentral History of Modem liafy.

French were worsted^ and Spain remained in possession of Na-

t^les and Sicilj. Lombardy, by means equally unjust, had fallen
nto the hands of Louis XII. and« to complete the total ruin of
Italy, a pope, Julius 11,, allied himself with both French and
Germans, to effect the destruction of Venice, the only Italian
state that still maintained its independence. The same Julius,
soon afterwards, feeling perhaps a return of Italian spirit and
Italian sagacity, formed a fresh alliance with Venice and Spain
to drive the French from Lombardy, and he succeeded, after
having occasioned infinite mischief. The horrors of that war,
1509 — 12, the plunder of Vicenza, Padua, Legnago, and other
towns, the storming and massacre of Brescia, are faithfully de-
scribed by an eye-witness, Luigi da Porta in bis Lettere Storiche,
published for the first time in 1832. In the end, Louis XII.
was obliged to give up Lombardy, which that prince, styled by
French historians '' the father of his people," had covered with
blood and ruins, through his inordmate ambition. A thircl
French king and a fresh army soon afterwards cro^^ed the Alps
to attempt the conquest of unfortunate Lombardy. The result
was like that at Naples. The French conquered and again lost,
and Charles V. remained in possession of the Milanese, as he
was already of Southern Italy. The remaining Italian powers
now thought of resistance, but it only served to rivet their chains.
Rome was taken and horribly pillaged, 15^7; and, soon after,
1530, Florence was obliged to submit to Charles and the Medici.
Ail Italy lay prostrate at the foot of Spain.

This eventful period of 36 years, from the descent of Charles
VIII. into Italy to the final subjugation of that country by
Charles V., found a contemporary historian equal to the task of
handing down its transactions to posterity. As this was the
epoch in which the history of modern Italy first assumed a sort
of unity of character, of condensation of interests, so was Guio
ciardini the first general historian of his country. The merits of
his work are well known, and we need not here enlarge upon
them. He was the friend of Machiavelli, from whom it seems
very probable that he derived much information of which he
availed himself for the earlier part of his work. It is well known
that Machiavelli had collected materials for the continuation of
bis history of Florence, which breaks off at the death of Lorehzo
in 1492. In the years that followed, Machiavelli was employed
in several important missions, connected with the politics of
Florence and of Italy in general, while Guicciardini was still
little more than a boy, and it was only in 1512 that Guicciardini,
then 30 years of age, was first employed on a political mission.
Maehiavolli was then a veteran in diplomacy. They afterwards

Gmmral Bittory of Modem lialy^ 6S

becaoie iotknalely acquainted, and Machiavelli was twice sent on
a mission to Guicciardini, who was then papal lieutenant* first at
Modena in 1526, and afterwards at Parma in \b%l. The con-
versation of such a man as Machiavelli could not but be singu-
larly instrnctive to bis junior brother diplomatist. For the resr,
the tone of both historians is the same; they are both matter of
faet narrators: they consider men such as they foiind them to be^
and not such as they might or ought to have been, and they
relate with the same imperturbability an act of atrocity as a gene-
rous deed. They expose wei|kness, errors of understanding, bad
policy, but care little about the morality of actions. They aeem
to have thought, like some statesmen of our own days, that an
error is worse than a crime. They appear biassed by no passion,
either good or bad, but proceed straightforward with their sen*
tentious narrative^ unmoved and inexorable. They account (w
the acts of men either from self-interest or ambition, lust or
revenge, violence or pusillanimity, but seldom if ever from virtue.
But where was virtue to be found among public men in Italy at
that time? Was it to be met with among the BorgiaS| or in the
militant Julius II., or among the Medicis? Was it to be found
in Sforza, who betrayed his own country and poisoned his
nephew; or in Trivulzio, who fought in the rank* of the invaders
of his native land ; or in Pescara, who revealed to Charles V. the
secret of his brother conspirators ; or in the weak, discordant,
pusillanimous councillors of Florence? The policy of that
republic, like that of all the Italian republics of the middle ages,
was founded upon might and not upon right. Or, did virtue
ei^bibit itself among the foreign kings aqd their generals who
were desolating the ^ir fields of Italy — in a Ferdinand of Aragon
or bis general the great Gonzalo, who broke the promise he had
given on the consecrated host; or in a Maximilian, ever faithless
to his treaties; in Louis XII., who ground the unfortunate
Milanese with taxes, and plundered their cities, ^nd ransacked
their libraries; or bis nephew Gaston de Foix, who sent to the
scaffold the brave defender of Brescia, Count Avogadro; in a
Bourbon, who led the army of a Catholic and Apostolic Sovereign
to attack the PoutifF in his own capital ; or lastly, in those multi-
tudes of foreign soldiers of all nations, between whom tiie only
difference recorded is» that the French were the most insolent
and licentious^ the Germans the most brutal, the Swiss the most
avaricious, and the Spaniards the most coldly and in^niouslv
cruel? Such were the scenes among which Guiqciardini liveci,
such the period, tlie history of which he undertook to describe,
and which he has sketched in all its fearful reality. In times of
triumphant vicej historians are apt to be either misanthropists or

1

64 Ctn^ral SSutorijf cf.itMkm Xiai^.

sceptics. In our pwn day«, similar cainesM^ve ptodiiiAck in-Fmee
the sehool of fatalist historians. . >. !'

The editions of 'Guicciftrdini*^ hutpry w^e.g«tiQraUy iacortect
or inutiliEUedA uutil Professor Rosiiii of Pisa pobli^eiL^ia edition
of ] 820. He ,l^s corrected nif mc^-ous .pi|ssbg03| atid has abo, bj
a new and, judicious distributioa of thr material arrangeanentof
sentences and punctuationj imparted- fluancjr to 90iTO<pf th« moic
intricate and prolix periinls of the tf^, Pnofessor Kosiai hai
added iii.the |ast volame an important ** Esaay on Iha^ Life and
Works of Guicciardint,** in ^bi ch he gpv^l a complete and w-
partial mohil portrait of that great historian. •- •'

A continuation of Guicciardioi's histocy had Ipng bean a 4esi*
deratum in Italian jiterature, Botta, alpaady knovf a for his work
on the contemporary history of Ztalyj, iHif applied ta« and be
undertook the task in, 18^6. 4 huadoed p^rsoas, mostly. ItaliaW)
of various conditions and opinions^ who admirad )k)tta*s na«
universally acknowledged abilitUa aad honaat frankaaya^ sab-
scribed togethej^ for .t|ie purpose of enabliag kim to deirotahim*
self fo this laborious task, and to secure. him aomeVemUBeralioo;
as he had been only a loser by the publication of bis foribar av
tory. After 6ve years, tJie work was completed in 1830.

Botta takes up the continuation of Gqicciardini's hisiopyi from
the year 1334« and brings it down to 178$), where ii meats his

freviously published history of the revokitionary €oii<|uest of
taly by the French, and of the reign, of Napoleon, which ^^
reviewed in No. L of this Joujrnal. , . . /

Tl^e calamities of the sixteenth century wer^ npt altogalbar aa-
attended by any compensation for Italy^ with r^ard lo ita future
political strength«and independencef After tlie abdication of
Charles Y. in 1556, those Italian states which had rel^hi^dr i( n^^
civil liberty^ at least their own native^ go^enprneat^ i^oov«red in
some degree from their stupor, and exhibited lasa subserviency to
the will of Spain. Cosmo I. Grand Duke of Tuscany. $boH^ ^
determinatioa to be the niaster in his owd doauaions; he baffled
the intrigues of French and Spaniards, wbo both ain)ed at the
possession of Siena, and at last aucoeeded ia adding that city aad
Its territory to .the rest of Tuscany. The popes libewisa made
several important additions to 4heir state* Several fiefeof the
CoToniia and. other baronial families were incorpomtad. The
duchy of Vrbiuo became likewise united to the papal territory bj
the extini^tion of the Houae of La Rovere in lf>32L ' Aatill more
important ,acq.uisitioa waa that of Ferrara« MPhich had been for
centuries/under the D'Est?, and which^after tha death of Al-
fonso II., without i9sue in 1597, waa united to ilie Romati slatei
whigh thus .(^atended from tha frontiera of Naplas to the Pa*

Geileral Hhhr^ of Modem Italy . 65

PanDR'and'Pkcevr^ft wei-e d6facfaedfhiin the Milanese and givea
to the House of Farnese*

But the iiiost ttnpotHtit etetd in favour of Italian nationality^
was the nqiid rise of ti warlike attd independent monarchy at the
foot of the Atpffi whirfi hds everditice contributed more than any
Other in preserving the North of' Italy from total subjugation^
and «>'bioii- mdy yet tte destined to render further services to the
ceuse of {Calian rndependenee. - By the peace of Chateau-Cam-
bvesis between France and Spaitt in 1559, Emmanuel Philibert^
Disk&of SiA<»(qr>aed Prince bf Piedmont, recovered possession
of hia dominions, which had been for a quarter of a century
ID Aw ifasnd^ of the French. He was the real founder of the
power of th4^ House of Savoy rn Italy, which under a succession
of clefts 'and brave pHnces increased with every subsequent
reigii4< Hie son^ Charles Emmanuel I., made the important
acqmitioli of die tnorquisate of S^lbzzo,' which constitutes one
of .the £iieM-))rovine^s of Piedmont. Charles Emmanuel was
an ejetmordinavy eharliieter/ A man of , unconquerable spirit,
undiemayed hy raverses^ deep and secret in his resolves^ he was
cotnparat to a spring, which/the more it is pressed, the more
strongly it rises again. But he had a restless temper and a
moat mnruly imagination, which the Venetians used to call '' hig
madneis/^' add which led him to conceive the most vast and im-
pmctieable' projects. At otie time he had secretly allied himself
to Henry iV.*- of France for the overthrow of the House of
Austria, with the understanding that he was to have Milan and
Motttfenratr aiid assaMe the title of Kin^ of Lombardy. The
Freacb# however^ were to retain two fbrtiiied places in bis domi-
nioDs. After Hehry's assassination, Charles aspired to. marry
his widow, Mdrie de Medici, and to become Regent of France.
Having iacurt^d'liieflispteasure of Spain, he widened the breach
by daimiag' Mdiitferrat, on the death of Francis Gonzaga, Duke
of Maa'taa, who- was his son-in-law, and without waiting for
negotifttioDS^ be invaded the country. This brought on a war
with the Spanish governors ^of Milan, which lasted for nearly ten
yeara without atiy definite result.. He then endeavoured to gain
poaaesBion of Oenoa> but hi vain. He had before attempted to
take* Geneva' by surprise. He next allied himself to Spain, on
occasion Of ttie* death of Vincenzo, Duke of Mantua, the last
of the elder branc^i of the Gonzagas^ in order to oppose the suc-
cession of th^ Duke of Nevers^ the next heir. Charles Emma-
nuel agattt' invaded Montferrat, wbilb the Spaniards besieged
Casale. • The French came to the relief of the Duke of Nevers,
but Gbarlee Bmmaiiuet defeated them at the battle of Vraita.
Meai^hite ti Getsmmi eim^' entered Ldm'b^rdy ^s aUxiKary to

VQU X YII. NO. XXXIIU F

66 General History of Modern Itdlg.

Spain, besieged and took Mantua, where tbey comaiitted alliorts
of horrors, in 1630. This is the German army which brought
the plague so eloquently described by Manzoni in his Promm
SposL Charles Emnf>anuel died soon afterwards^ and his sod,
Victor Amadeus I., obtained, by the peace of Ratisboo, the
greater part of the so^much contested Montferrat : the chief town,
Casale, however^ was restored to Nevere, Duke of Mantua.

The sixteenth century, and the first part of the seventeentli,
may, therefore, be considered as the epoch of the fuaion of maDj
petty states, the relica of the middle ages« into great divisions,
such as the Papal State, Tuscany, and the dominions of the
House of Savoy. This was so far an improvement in a natioiMl
point of view, although obtained in several instances through war
and injustice. The history of Italy, which daring the middle
ages was a most perplexing labyrinth, becomes henceforth len
intricate and more intelligible.

In the latter part of the sixteenth century, Venice lost tbe
island of Cyprus. A numerous Turkish force invaded it in 1570>
took Nicosia by stonUi and beleaguered the capital, Famagosta*
After an obstinate siege, the garrison being reduced to 700 oneDi
and the town suffering by famine, the Venetian govemori Braga-
dino, though against his will, listened to tbe terms of Mustapbt
Pasha. The garrison, and such of the inhabitants as chose to
withdraw, were allowed to do so. But on a sudden Bragadino
and his officers were arrested, and the latter^ after bjeing first
tortured, were put to death along with 300 soldiers. Bragadioo
himself was led naked to the square, tied to a pillar, scourged,
and then flayed alive in presence of the barbarous Paaba. Tbe
Turk had offered him his life, rank, and emolument, if he would
turn Mussulman. Bragadino nobly rejected the impious offer,
and expired with the name of the Saviour on his lips. His skin
was filled with straw, suspended to the yard-arm of a Turkish
galliot, and sent to Constantinople. All the Venetians and the
Greeks who were left alive were carried into slavery. Such were
Ottoman faith and Ottoman generosity towards a gallant foe.
This horrible tragedy took place in August, 157 1. Venice raised
a monument to the martyr Bragadino.

In October of the same year the battle of the Cursolari, called
also the battle of Lepanto, again raised the spirits of the Chris-
tian world. Don Juan of Austria, and the Venetian proveditor,
Barbarigo, completely routed the great Turkish fleet, sinking
roost of their ships, and taking others. Barbarigo lost bis life in
the combat. The Genoese admiral, Gian Andrea Doriai did
not contribute to the victory as be might and ought to have done.

The seventeenth century was for Italy a period of comparative
peace, if by peace is meant the absence of foreign war

Gmerat History of Modem Italy. 87

invasion. The south of the Peninsula was disturbed by popular
revolts at Naples and in Sicily* which only served to aggravate the
ifiiseries of the people. The famous revolt of Masanieilo, and
the subsequent attempt of the Duke of Guise to possess himself
of the sovereignty of Naples, are welt known, and formed the
subject of an interesting article by Sir Walter Scott in the eighth
Number of this Journal. In the north a petty* desultory kind of
warfare was revived* and carried on for many years, between the
French* the Duke of Savoy* and the Spanish governors of Milan*
on account of the eternal disputes about Mantua and Montferrat*
which we have already alluded to* and which were only terminated
by the treaty called the Peace of the Pyrenees, concluded be-
tween France and Spain in 1659* Thirty years of peace fol-
lowed, the benefit bf which was chiefly felt by those Italian states
which were under native rulers. Charles Emmanuel II. Duke of
Savoy, applied himself to heal the wounds which had been in-
flicted on Piedmont during the past contest* and* at the same
time* to embellish his capital. The royal palace of Turin* the
<^bapel of the Sudario, with its marble dome and pillars, the Ca-
rignano palace, the college of the nobles, the royal country man-
sion of Rivoli, and the other villa of La Veneria* are all mbnu-
tnentlr of his reign. A still more creditable* because more useful^
undertaking vtbls the road which he cut through the rocks of Les
Echefles in Savoy, by which he first opened an easy and direct
communication between Chambery and Lyons, which constitutes
even at present the high road from France to Italy, and which
may ht compared with the great modern roads of the Simplon
and of Mont Cenis. Charles Emmanuel established at Turin a
literary society and an academy of painting.

Ferdinand 11. Grand Duke of Tuscany, called '' the Friend of
LettcTrs,*' and his brother Leopold, encouraged the sciences; they
founded the academy called Del Cimento, one of the few Italian
academies which have not thrown awav their time in trifles. Tor-
ricelli, Redi, Magalotti, Marsilj, Viviani, and other eminent men,
especially in mathematics and the natural sciences, adorned Flo-
rence and the court of Ferdinand. Young men from all coun-
tries of Europe resorted to that capital as to a new Athens. The
reign of Ferdinand II. was to Tuscany a renewal of the age of
his great ancestor Lorenzo. Nor was Rome then inclined to
disturb the investigations of science as in the time of Galileo.
Al^)cander VII. (Cardinal Chigi) was* unlike his predecessors.
Urban VITI. and Innocent X., a pontiff of a mild, virtuous
character* and of an enlightened mind, and a great patron of
literature and Of the arts. It was under him that Cardinal PaU
lavicino wrote his History of the Council of Trent. Alexander

f2

(gi

6s General History of Modem Itafy*^

died in I6679 ^^^^ & twelve years' fXMilificate, and was a^eceeckd
by Clement IX. (RospigiioBi)i another virtuous pope^ aud still
more temperate than Alexander in the exercise of his authority*
He conciliated France, disturbed by the feuds of the Janseoists,
He reigned too short a time for the welfare of Rome and of the
Catholic world; dying in 1669, and leaving behind him the
memory of having been one of the most deserving occupants of
the Romish see. He was succeeded by Clement X. (Altieri)» a

Juiet, good old man, who was himself succeeded^ in l676f by
nnocent XI. This was also a pontiff of irreproachable cha^
racter, disinterested and averse to nepotism, a lover of justice
and "firm in asserting it» He had a dispute with the naugbtv
Louts XIV. on account of the immunities, as they were called*
which the foreign ambassadors had long enjoyed at Rome; ai¥l
by which, not only their palaces, but the houses in the adjoiiUK^
streets, could not be entered by the officers of justice; aqbrding
thereby so many sanctuaries to all the bad characters in the
Holy City, who sallied out by night to commit depredations and
other misdeeds, and then returned to their haunts, wheie* the
police could not follow them. Innocent XI. determiiied to. put
an end to this abuse; be did not, however, touch the rights of
^e then resident ambassadors, but he notified to the various
courts that he would not admit in ftiture any new ambassador
who did not renounce the immunities. Louis XIV» sent .the
Marquis of La^*ardin, who came accompanied by several hundred
French half-pay officers, in order to support by force, if neo^isaary,
his pretended immunities. lunocent XL, thinking he had a rigbl to
be master in his own capital, refused to give audience to Lavardio,
and even excommunicated him. The ambassador placarded his
protest at the comers of the streets. The pope, however, stood
firm ; and Louis XIV. then seized upon Avignon, and would
have sent a fleet against the Roman territories, had not other and
more weighty matters engrossed all his attention. This strange
controversy was not set at rest until after the death of Innoeeat,
who was succeeded by Alexander VIIL He was followed by
Innocent XII., also a disinterested and moral pontiff.

It may safely be asserted^ that the seventeenth century exhibits
a series of popes which is upon examination fisr more satisfactory
than that registered in the annals of the sixteenth. It was in the
seventeenth century that Rome first began to accommodate itaelf
to the change of the times ; it then first adopted a tone of wise
and dignified moderation, which became it better than iiB for-
mer assumption of supremacy in temporal concetns, and which
it has maintained with little interruption ever since. In sayiog
this, M*e are of course speaking of the tone and demeanour of the

General Historjf of Modern liafy. 6Q

coarC of Rome towards Catholic states. In point of morals, the
change was stHI greater. From the end of the sixteenth ceatury^
the popes have been, with very few exceptions indeed, men whose
personal character has been above scandal. There have been no
more Bofgias, Roveres, Medicis, Caraffas, or Farneses. In the
eighteenth centory this happy improvement has been still more
marked. Those politicians, or iBfiexible religionists, who think
that the Papal power, both spiritual and temporali ought to be
swept away imtanter, vi et armisy from the face of the globe, will
of coarse overlook these shades of character in the history of that
Cbureb, as not worth tb^r attention ; but we, who are not yet
quite perstiaded of either the probability or the expediency of
such a sodden and total revolution, we congratulate mankind that
an office so influential as that of the papal dignity has passed
during the last two hundred years through a succession of gene*
rally estimable, reasonable, humane men, who shared the sympa**
thies of their fellow*creatures, instead of frightening them by
stern fanaticism, or revolting them by ibeir profligacy.

The republic of Venice was, during the second part of the
sevetfteeatb cenlnry, chiefly engaged in its wars beyond the sea
agiiinst the Ottomans* The Turks invaded the island of Candia,
in 1645, with a large force, took Caoea and Retimo by storm,
and began to lay siege to Candia, the capital of the island,, which
was regularly fortified. The war of Candia lasted more than
twisnty years, and is one of the most jDemorable in history for
perseverance and desperate valour on one side, and the gallant
defence on the other. The Venetian fleet meanwhile scoured the
sea; the Captain^General, Grimani, defeated the Turks near
N^groponte, and drove them into the port of Nauplia. In Uie
followiog year, 1648, he sailed for the Dardanelles, when a ter**
liMe storm dispersed his fleet, and sunk the admiral's ship with
Grimaiii on board. Luigi Mocenigo was appointed his sue*
cessor. He repelled the first assaults of the Turks upon Candia,
and obliged them to convert the siege into a blockade. In l65 1»
he sailed to attack the Turkish fleet, which was bringing rein-
forcements to their countrymen in Candia, and fell in with it
between Paros and Naxos. The Captain Pasha's ship was
taken, others were sunk, and several burnt. The Venetian flag
rode triumphant over the Archipelago. Mocenigo died in 1653,
and was succeeded by Lorenzo Marcello, who completely de**
feated the Turkish fleet before the entrance of the Dardanelles
in Julj, 1656, taking 80 ships, sinkiiig others, killing 14,000 of
the enemy, and making 5000 prisoners. But Marcello himself
was slein by a cannon shot* Lazaro Mocenigo, who brought to
Venice the news of the victory of the Dardanelles, was appointed

70 General History of Modern Italy*

CaptaiD-General. He sailed for the Levanty with the full de«
terfiiifiation of forcing the passage of the Dardanelles, «»d burn-
iog the Turkish ships in the harbour of Constantinople. Tb«
famous Mehemet Coprougli was then Grand Vi^ir> and be had
fortified the castles, and manned a new fleet, which canp^e out to
meet the Venetians. Mocenigo routed tbe Turks, and. uotwitb*
standing a violent storm, entered the Straits, passed the first bat-
teries, and was on the point of entering the sea of Marmora^
when his ship caught fire and blew upt in July. 16^7* After a
succession of other commanders, the senate appointed Frauoeaco
Morosini, a name which has become deservedly illustrious ia the
annals of Veoioe. Volunteers from Fraacep Savoy, RcMaie. wd
Malta« crowded to the defence of Candia. On the other aide.
Achmet Coprouglii son of Mebemet, and equal to his father in
abilities, arrived, in 1666, to take the command of the Turkish
forces in the island. He brought with him strong reinforcements*
which increased his troops to 70,000 men. with an immenae triun
of artillery. The close siege was resumed in l667. The Turkjs
were very expert in the art of maktug trenches and digging mines,
but the Venetians were uot leas quick with their countermines.
After fuiiously battering the place, the Turk9 made repeaUfsd
assaults, but were repuked in all, until the rai^y season cuoie to
interrupt the operations of the siege, which was resumed in the
following year with great loss on both sides, but without any
decisive result. At last the Turks succeeded, after an immense
loss, in making a lodgment in one of the bastions, where they
fixed a battery. Morosini. foreseeing this, had undervuned the
work ; he set fire to a mine which contained 9000 pounds of gun-
powder, and which blew up that part of the bastioa. wilb the
Turks and their camion. The besiegers, nothing appalled^ aet
about in the ditch delibei*ately to sap the remaining part of the
bastion, which was still in the power of the Venetians* and
amidst a shower of balls they succeeded in levelling the whole
bastion to the ground; in consequence of which the town se*
mained exposed on that side. Candia was now in imminent
danger, when a squadron arrived from Toulon with 5000 men
under the Duke of JMoailles, whom Louis XIV. had sent to the
relief of the place. Pope Clement IX« also aent hia galleya
with some troops, Noailles found the town in a miserable plight.
The whole line of fortifications was in a 'ruinous state^ and
broken in many places, and within neither a house iK>r a chuvch
was left entire. Everywhere lay men either dead or dying,
wounded or mutilated ; and the streets were encumbered witb
ruins, and with heaps oifshot and shells thrown from the Turkish
batteries. Noailles decided upon making an imuifediate ^or^te^

General HUtory of Modern Italy. 7 1

as he was cdnfident of beating the Turks in the open field. He
accordingly went out (against the advice of Morosini and other
veteran officers) in the night of the 24th of June, with about
6000 men and 600 horse. They formed in silence outside the
walby and rushed^ at break of day^ upon the Turkbh entrench*
ments, carrying ail before them, took several redoubts, and enter-
ing the trenches killed all the Turks they met with. The Turks m
the camp, and Coprougli himself/ surprised by this furious onset,
withdrew to a hill in the rear ; and the French were proceeding
to seize the batteries, when the accidental explosion of some
barrels of powder made the soldiers, who had heard much of the
wonderful use of mines in the siege, fancy that the whole ground
upon which they stood was undermined. A cry of ^* Gave Im
mine/'* ran through the ranks, and they fled in disorder towards
the town, notwithstanding all the efforts of their officers to rally
them. Coprougli, seizing the moment, fell upon them, and
would have destroyed them all, had not Morosini sallied from
the town, with' a body of his own Venetians, to cover their
retreat, and to divert the attention of the enemy* The French
lost 50O men, including the Duke of Beaufort and many other
of the principal officers, whose heads were carried to the Vizir,
and afterwards paraded on spikes round the walls of the be«
leaguered city. Soon afterwards, Noailles embarked with his
remaining men, in spite of aU the entreaties of Morosini, leaving
Caudia to its fate. The Maltese and Papal galleys followed his
example.

Moffosim bad now no hopes of being able to defend the place
any longer. His endeavours were therefore directed lo amve
4000 citizens and about as many soldierS| who were all that
remained alive. He assembled a council of war on the 27th
of August, when it was resolved to capitulate. The Vizir
granted honourable terms. Not only the garrisoni but all the
citizens who chose to depart, were allowed time to do so, and to
carry away all their moveables ; and, in order to guard against a
repetition of the atrocious treachery of Cyprus, Morosini de*
manded hostages and Coprougli gave them. But Morosini did
more: upon his own responsibility, he availed himself of the
eagerness which the Turks felt for the possession of Candia, to
convert the capitulation into a permanent treaty of peace between
the Republic and the Porte. The terms were more advantageous
to Venice than those generally granted under similar circum«^
stances; The republic retained, on the coasts of Candia, the pos«
session of Suda, Carabusa, and Spinalonga, besides Clissa and
several other districts in Dalmatia, which the Venetians had con-
quered during* the war. All prisoners and slaves taken during

7^ General Bkidry xf Modern Italy.

the war were liberated. Morostoi^ on his vetttm to Venfee, wbs
tried for btving exceeded his powers, but was boDowmbly aic>
quilted.

In September, 1649, Candia was evacuated, all Ae kdiabitatiCt
choonng to follow Moroaioi, trusting to the generaaity of Venice
for their future support. The senate afterwards gave them laadb
and bouses in the province of Istria, at and neat Parenzo* *Mawv
noUe Candiote families chose the Ionian islands for their resi-
dence. Moitwini sailed with the first division, GrinuiMi nod
Montbrun with the last, leaving the seijeant-^major, Pooo dt
Borgo, Sfnd two or three other subalternsj to deHver llie heyK
The Viair entered the deserted town through the breadi of- tbe
demolisbed bastions, whidi was lined by bia jantzaiies^ - • «Co*
prottgN behaved on this occasion as an honouraMe Mdtrven
generous cortonefor. The war of Candia -cost the Scwiaie
twentj-five niiliions of ducats, and increased the debt of tlM ra-
pubtic to sixty-feur millions. In tlio last three years' of Ae siege
5a9i086 Christians of all ranks and nations, and^^of bo^ sexes,
were killed, as welt as 70,000 Turks, besides 36,060 country
people and slates; The Turks made sixty-nine kssaulls, the
Christians eighty ioNkSj and the number of mines exploded on
both sides was 1364. The siege of Candia is a tlieme worthy of
the noblest p^s.

•• Even Daru " observes Botta, " prejudiced as he is aga|ns^ vcntce,
has shown himself, in relating the Candian war, a sincere and iast bis-
torhin, and mone swayed by trntb than by certain partialities wmcfc seem
to influence him both when be speaks and when be Is sfleut on Other
oocasi0ns»"--'B. xjtvli.

In l684, Mar having again broken out between Venice an(l the
Porte, Morusini was appointed Generalissimo of the republic by
sea and by land. He sailed from Venice with a powerful fleet,, and
was joined at Corfu by several Maltese, Papal, and Tusc^
salleys. He took Santa Maurii and afterwards Preveza- He
ttien landed in the Morea, from whicli the Venetians tiail been
expelled ever since the time of Solyman the Great, took Coron
by storm, marched to join the Mainotes, took CaJamat^ and
defeated a Turkisli army sent to its succour^ Next^ar he
opened the campaign . with 1(^000 men, took Navanno and
Modon, defeated the seraskier^s army, besieged Napoli and took
it after an obstinate defence. In 1687, he defeatea In a pitched
battle the seraskier near Patras, taking bis standard, reduced
Patras and Lepanto, Corinth, and finally tbe whole of the Morea.
Morosini then landed at the Piraeus, and attacked the Acropolis
of Athens. It was in this siege that a shelly thrown by the Vene-

General Sktury- of Moim^ Ml^*^ Zd*

tiaiw, fell on the Partkenoo, where the Turks bad i]epo9ited.tlieii<

pAVfder, and partly laid it in ruiiw. The Turka tbea iiurreiideied*

In il%4«^Morosini made an attack on Euboea, but did not avfi^'

€eed» owu^ chiefly to the malaria fever bavin^i 9pread in his

camp. The si^Hie. year the doge^ Giuatinianij haying died> Mqj?o«

si^i although ac9ent« waa elected, ius succeaaor, retabing hia^

cooimand in the L^aAt,-*« thing unusual in that jeal^tusi ran.

public. In l68i>> Moroaini returned to Venice; be wai». inetat^

sea by .the senate* and led in triumph to thue. landing, place in the

square of St. Markj amidst the acclamatioas oX the whole pppu^i

latioa. It waft a proud day for Venice. A statue of bronze .was-

erected to him ia tbe great hall of the Council 4^f Ten, wiUi the

surname of Petoponnesiacus. A few years aCterwards, Moirosii»4« .

old and infim^ was sent again to the Morea, wher«iiUness leiiini*.

naled faisgiosious career at Napoli di Romania in, 1693*- Hei;

has been called '*the last of tb^ Venetians ;^ h^iwas Q^lawlyi

tbe last of their succeisfnl generals. Afterhisdeatli^a oauiievar

policy seemed to pervade tbe councils of the rep^blic^ aiid few.

tracea of its. former bold determinaition reinaiiied^ .|lo»wever»,by

tbe peace of Carlowitz in 1699, the republic retained thei Mofea»i

the ialand of £gina« Santa Maura, as well a& several places-

Qonatt^red ia Dalmatian The Morea waa finally uetaken in. 1 7 i^ i

by tne Turks, who were repulsed with great loss k\ tlieir..ntAaGk.

upon Corfu in the following year. By the peace of Passaro-*

witz in 1718, the Venetians renounced the Morea. and Egina, as

well as th^ fortresses on the coast of Candia. They rc;tained,,tbe

Ionian islands, including Cerigo ; and Preveza, Voi^i2za«.and< the.

fortresses on the coast of Albania. This was the last. war.

between Venice and the Porte. The Venetian flag continued,

however, to make itself respected at sea, especially in the Levant

and on the Barbary coasts, where the recollection of its former

victories kept up the magic of its name for nearly a centU]7

longer : and tbe senate did not neglect its navy. During the war

between the Russians and the Turks under the Empress Cathar

rine, a Venetian fleet tinder the captain-general, Aiigelo £mo»

kept in respect the fleets of the two belligei'ents, and, by cruising

in die seas of the Levant, protected not only tbe Venetian but the

other Chilstian neutral vessels. At the fall of the republic,

Venice had a fleet of 50 ships of war of difflbrent sizes, and 700

large merchant vessels. Tbe weak' point of Venice was not on

the side of the sea. . '

^ Genoa, tbe other Italian republic, had long since lost Its mari*

time power. Its flag was no security against the Barbary cor>>

sairs^and the island of Corsica, its only remaining possession

beyond the sea, was in an almost continual state of insurrection.

74 Cfmeral StOory of Modern Italy.

In the city of Genoa itself frequent oonspiracies were hatched,
owing to the eternal dissensions between the democrats and tbe no-
bles, and among these, between the portico vecckio, Cff old families,
and the portico nuovo or new nobiliyr. Genoa had no Coancil of
Ten to repress the inordinate ambition of daring individuals; jet,
bj good luck, all the conspiracies were discovered in time. And
to prove the sincerity of the pretended assertors of Geiioeee po-
pular liberty, it is enoueh to state, that most of these conspirators
were abetted by either France, Spain, or the Dukes of Savoy, le
whom they would have sold the independence of their country, for
the object of a momentary triumph and revenge upon the envied
patricians. Fiescbi, in 15^7, aspired to be ruler of Genoa, mnicr
the protection of France, and with the assistance of the execrmble
Pier Luigi Farnese, T>uke of Parma. Cibo, soon after, attempted
a similar revolution with the assistance of the French, who were
then masters of Mondovi. Coronato, in 1676, afser creating
great disturbances between the two orders of nobiKty, and then
between the new nobility and the citizens, being disappointed by
the reconciliation of the two parties, hatched another conspiracy,
but was discovered, tried, and executed. GrioKoCesare Vaohero,
anodier demagogue, a man of the most flagitious character.
Joined with Ansaldo, a noble of a similar disposition, and agreed,
m ]€ra, with Charles Emmanuel I., Duke of Savoy, to introduce
Piedmontese troops into tbe city. Vachero's friends were at the
same time to issue from their haunts, shouting ''Liberty! '^ to
seise the palace, and throw tbe senators out of windows, to open
the prisons, to slaughter all the nobles without distinction of age
or sex, to plunder their houses, as well as the public magazines,
and keep part of the booty to propitiate Prince Vittorio of
Savoy, who was to appear under the walls witli a body of 5000
men. Luckily, one of the conspirators revealed the whole plot
to Rodino, his father-in-law, who, having been once banished for
murder, had served in the Piedmontese troops, but had reoentiy
been pardoned, and even entrusted with the comtnand of a body of
men in the service of the republic. Rodino was terrified at tbe
scheme, and he immediately revealed the whole to the doge.
The leaders were taken, and expiated their crime oa the scaflfotd ;
and Charles Emmanuel was not ashamed to interfere in behalf of
his agent Vachero, threatening tbe republic with open war if be
were put to death. This, however, did not save the culprit
— (Botta, book xix.) In 1650, Gianpaolo Balbi, one of the
new or portico nuovo nobility, solicited first the French and then
the Spaniards to assist him in overturning the govemmeat of his
country. Being discovered in both instances, his companions
were executed, but he escaped, and wandered ia exile i» various

G^ieral HiOm^ of Modem li^fy. 75

coQoiriet-of Europe. He tbea wrote against the govemaieiit of
Genoa, and the usurped po>ft*er of the nobles; but ^ supposing
evcQ ihal all he sajs were true, this would never excuse a citi^
Zen who, in order to settle the govemuient of his country accord*
ing to his ideas, calls in foreigners and the soldiers of absoUile
powers to assist hm"'-^Boiia, book xav.

In 167 ly Raffaele della Torre» a young man of a noble Gio-
noeae family, after having spent his patrimony in debauchery,
took to the sea> and seized, in sight of hia native city, a ship
bound to lieghoro, witli a large amount in specie, belonging to
Geaoese merchants. He fled to France, while his trial was
ioalilnied at Genoa, and he was condemned to death for juracy^
He then repaired to Turin, where be proposed lo the cabuiei of
Savoy the conquest of Genoa. The oldest advisers of the duke
exclaimed agunst the proposal, but the duke himself resolved to
attack Genoa, with which he was at peace, while Delia Torre
endeavottfed to excite a revolt by nieans of his friends : this was
in 1673. The Piedmontese marched in the direction of Savona,
while Delia Torre, concealed in the neighbourbood of Genoa,
with a iiitmher of desperate characters, concerted with bis frienda
in tke ci^ means for taking possession of one of the gaiea« The
plan of operations, when once within the city, vi^as exactly the
same as that of Vachero. Murder, plMtider, and &re, were to be
let looae within the walls of Genoa. But here, again, a bappy
chance saved the state. One of Della Torre's confidents revealed
the whole to the senate. Measures were taken to defeat the plot>
and Della Torre had just time to escape. With the money be
had received from the duke he wandered about in various couUf.
tries, and was at last killed at Venice in 1681» while he waasaun-
tering about masked, in company with several courtezans.

But the duke, although disappointed by the failure of Della
Torre, prosecuted the war against Genoa, for which he hfKl not
even a pretence. The whole transaction was a serious stain oq-
the life of Charles Emmanuel IL The war lasted the whole of
1678, alotig the western Riviera, with the loss of many brave
soldiers on both sides, but in the end with no advantage to the
Piedmonlese. Peace was made in the following year, Uwougk
the inlei'ventiou of France. The haughty Louis XL V., who
already aspired to the protectorate of Italy, forced bis mediation,,
and dictated in aome measure to both beltigerents. He after^
wards obliged the Duke of Savoy to prosecute and exile the Wal-
dense*, as he bad himself treated his own Protestant subjects.
He next picked a quarrel witb Genoa: be demanded, amon^
other Ikings, that tbe sentence against the family of Fiescbi
should ha ievafsed» alleging, aa a reason tNtt> GiaA ta^i Eienphi

76* Genial HUtory of Modern Italy.

bad not deserved it, because his object was to restore Genoa to tbe
former jkgitimate dominion of France ! He also insisted tbat four
galleys^ ivhiqh G^Doa had recently put in commission, should be
disarmed* In reading of these pretensions and political ma*
nc^uvres of Louis XI ¥«, and observing the tone assumed b^ him
towards other atates, one becomes more and more convinced that
Napoleon in our days did little more than follow up, mth greater
wergy and akillj and under more favourable circumstances^ the
plana alreadjr iconcocted during the reign of the Grand Mo-
nargue, and which had become hereditary in the French cabinet,
tending to make France the arbitress of Europe. Both LiOuis
and N^poleouj however^ failed in the end, and he must be a bold
man indeed who would renew the attempt after the failure of
those two»

• Upon the above plOBi with which he coupled some pretended
inaultB offered to his intriguing envoy, Louis XIV, sent his
admiral* Duquesne, to bombard Genoa, *' to punisb St it it did
not repent^'— such were the words of the French minister^ Seig-
nelai, the son of Colbert, to the senate of an independent state !
Ou^uesne^B 6eet, in May 1684, threw 13,000 shells into the city,
one half of which was thereby reduced to ruins. The Prendi
officers acknowledged that the bombardment of Genoa was more
severe and destructive than that which they had inflicted upon
Algiers the year before. The senate, however, stood firm, and the
French fleet| after having done all the mischief it could, returned
to Toulon* In the following year, the doge and four senators, in
order to avoid further annoyance from so formidable a neighbonr,
repaired to Versailles^ and there made an humble apolog^f to Liouis
iTK the name of the republic for tbe offence of which his majesty
complained. Thus the Genoese were allowed to rebuild their
bouses in peace.

Louis, not content with the possession of the stronghold of Pig-
nerol, on the Italian side of the Alps, had partly coaxed and partly
frightened Charles Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua, to admit a French

.garrison into the fortress of Casale in Montferrat. Piedmont
was consequently at his mercy, and his troops marched backward
and forwara from Casale to Pignero], as if they had been in their
own country* The war o^ Louis against the German empire,
which he began with the barbarous devastation of the Palatinate,
brought on also a war with Spain, whose king was allied b^ blood
and policy to tbe Emperor Leopold; and, as the possessions of
Sjpain in Italy were more vulnerable than Spain itself, and Italy

. afforded more resources to an invader, Louis ordered his armies
to march through Piedmont to the invasion of the duchy of
Milan. Austria, on the other hand, assembled an army under

General HU/ary of Modem Italy, fj

Prince Eagene for the defence of Milan* Victor Amadens II.,

Duke of Savoy, being placed between the two contending parties,

perceived that for him neutrality was out of the cjuestion, and»

as be was tired of the overbearing conduct of Louisa he decided

in favour of Austria and Spain. In l6ff0 the French, nnder

Catioat, began pouring over the Alps. Louvois, King Louis's

minister, gave orders to Catinat to devastate Piedmont^ and,

although against Catinat's feelings, his orders were but too wdl

obeyed by the soldiers. The Piedmontese, seeing their' fields

ravaged and their houses in flames, retaliated upon the French

detached parties and stragglers. After the battle of Staffardt> in

which the Austrians and Piedmontese lost 7000 men, the Fretfch

spread over the fine plain of Turin^lundering, violating, burning^,

and slaughtering. They sacked Kivoli, and burnt Lucema and

Bibiana. Catinat wrote to Louyois, saying " We ought to have

mercjf on the unfortunate inhabitants. What is to l)e done?*'

'' Bi]|ra, devastate and burn,'' was the answer. ** Had the Furies

issued from Tartarus," observes Botta, " with their lighted totichei^,

they could not have done worse than the soldiers, I will not say of

Catinat, but of Louvois^ did in Piedmonts' — Book xxxii^

Turin and the other fortified places remained in th6 hands of
Victor Amadeus. In the following year, l691j the Fretoh
attacked Cuneo, but were repulsed by Prince Eugene, and in
their retreat were followed by the peasantry, who killed all the
stragglers* They lost 4000 men in this affair* Another French
corps ravaged the province of Aoste. Fresh Austrian troops
came under Schomberg to the assistance of the Piedmontesci and
in the spring of l69^^ Victor Amadeus resumed the offensive.
He suddenly crossed the Alps above Pignerol, and carried the
war into France. Here the Germans retaliated upon the inno-
cent inhabitants of Dauphin6 the cruelties that French soldiers
had committed in the Palatinate two years before; and the Pied«
montese likewise revenged themselves for the devastation of their
own country. Embrun and Gap were sacked, and the latter
burnt» The banks of the Durance paid for the ravages com-
mitted the year before on the banks of the Po. In 1693 Catinat
again entered Piedmont by the valley of Susai and hb light troops
i^ppeared before Turin. Victor Amadeus hastened t6 the de-
fence of his- capital. He fought the battle of Marsaglia ott the
4th of October, and was defeated with the loss of lO^OOO tteo.
The French, after the battle, gave no quarter to the German sol-
diers, being enraged at the devastation? committed ^j the latter
in Dauphine the year before* Thus one atrocity served as a pre-
text for another, until all parties become steeped in crime, and it
is impossible to decide which is the guiltiest* But the Frepch

76 Gmnfiki Hutoty (f Modem JPafy.

nvere tiot rati^ed with killing their enemies; they fell topotetbc
country-people, whom they tormented in every way U^ extort
money from them. Lust, m usual, added to the horrors of cra-
elty. The celebrated Villars, who was present in this campaigo,
bears witness in bis Memoirs to the enormities of his CoHOtiTttien.
'* Very great disorders/' he says, " were committed by our sol-
diers; several small towns ware given up to the ftames. ftevello,
where was a monastery, with fifty young ladies, boarders^ of the
first families of Piedmont, experienced all the horrors tbat the
lust and insolence of the soldiery can inflict. Aft&r these dis-
graceful incursions, and having ruined a country, the resources of
Which^ well managed, might have proved of great service to oor
armyi our troops recrossed the Alps for the winter.^ Olrr blood
boils itt such a narrative, and yet vphat is this but a stray leaf of
the enormous register of. foreign outrages upon Italy? AtiOtker
pest which followed the track of the iN'ench in these <^ciipafgns
in Piedmont was the cupidity of the commissaries and comAictors
for the supply of the army; They plundered the PiedMoAitese,
while at the same time they stinted the French soldiers bf their
allowance. Catinat, seeing his men perishing with hanger, be-
came furious : he hung several of the culpritS| but to littte pu^f»ose ;
for one that was hung came anotheri as great a knave, only peHiaps
more adroit in concealing his roguery. This plague has gene-
rally attended most continental armies, bat the Frenth in parti-
cular. Buonaparte btmself, in his Italian campaigns, complained
bitterly of it to the Directory. The principle of makings an army
live at discretion upon the inhabitttnts is an infamous principle,
and must bear corresponding fruit. The fatal expressioh of
Turenne in the Palatinate, *' My soldiers must live,*' being Higerly
adopted with an outrageous latitude of meaning, has be*en the
cause of infinite misery to Europe. No! the soldiers of an in-
vading army have no right to live at discretion upon the inhabit-
ants, and to plunder them of their substance; if they do, the in-
habitants have a right to destroy them whenever they can, like
beasts of prey. Those who send an army into a foreign country
ought to provide for its subsistence; their commissaries ought to
enter into an understanding with the local authorities, and give
bonds for whatever supplies they receive, the whole to be paid by the
Treasury. If one of the belligerents is to pay the whole expenses
of the war, this must be settled at the peace, and in a legal manner.
If this were done, wars would become too expensive to be nnder-
taken upon slight grounds. Unless all civilized nations, by com-
mon consent, agree to these natural principles of justice, there
can be no safety for either states or individuals.

After two years more of a desultory warfare in Piedmbnt,

Gmeral Buioryi, ofModtrti Itahf* T9

Victor AmadeiMi who had been secretly negotiating with

in order to save his states from total ruin, concluded a separate

peace in June, I6g6. The French agreed to give up to him

Casale and Pignerol^ after destroying the fortifications, and to

evacuate Piedmont and Savoy, on condition that the Austrians

should abo on their part respect the- neutrality of his territories.

This convention was cleverly managed on the part of the. Duke of

Savoy, who availed himself of the importance of bis adhesion to

either party^ to obtain permission to remain neutral, as eadi

party would rather see him neutral tlian hostile. Thus Italy was

allowed to breathe again in peace, until the treaty of Ryswiek, in

1697» put an end to the general war. The peace, hovrever, was

of short duration. The death of Charles II. of Spain was the

signal for another and a Du>re dreadful storm, which this time

spread over the whole of Italy: the possession of Naples and

Sicily, Milan and. Sardinia, as part and parcel of the great

Spanish succession, became the bone of contention between the

Bourbops on the one side and the House of Austria on the other«

As this war contributed mainly to the political settlement of Italy

which has continued since, and the leading features of which still

subsist, we shall enter at some length into the details of the gceat

contest as given by Botta.

Two fears agitated Europe on occasion of the Spanish suc-
cession. One was, that the House of Austria, by adding to its
great power in Germany the dominioo of Spain, America, and
the Spanish possessions in Italy, would renew the scheme of uni*
versal monarchy, which was nearly realized by Charles V« The
other danger was, that Louis XIV., whose ambition was already
sofficiently manifest, and who had succeeded in giving to the
great military, resources of France an impulse before unknown,
would, by placing one of his relatives on the Spanish throne, be*
come the arbiter of Europe. These fears, although perhaps ex-
aggerated, were not altogether visionary^-we say exaggerated,
because, so long as the institutions and the national character of a
country, and especially of a country like Spain, remained un*
altered, a mere change of dynasty could have no lasting effect on
its politics, as it was proved in the case of Philip Y., who a few
yeaj-s after lie had, through the arms of France, been seated on
the throne joi Spain, made war against his own Bourbon relatives.
When, as in the case of Napoleon, changes of dynasty in various
countries are accompanied by revolutions in their institutions^-**
when every thing is newly fashioned according to the mind and
will of one great military arbiter,*— when the kings appointed by
bitn are guarded by his own soldiers, and act merely as his pre^
fects, — ^then, truly, the danger is infinitely greater to all remaining

80 General HiHory qf Modem liafy^

independent states, — then the foundations of universal niODarcby
are laid. But such a thing could in modem Europe be eflSMrted
only by revolutionary power craftily wielded by a great militarj
chief. 7'he old monarchies, from their aversion to cfaaDge, are
deprived of that mighty but dangerous lever.
. Pope Innocent XI I. , foreseeing the calamities to which Italy
would be exposed in consequence of the disputed Spanish suc-
cession, had been endeavouring to form a league of the Italian
states to preserve the neutrality of the Peninsula, and to prevent
the irruption of foreigners under any pretext. He might as
well have been employed in seeking for the philosopher's stone*
or the quadrature of the circle. How was it possible to forna an
effectual league, whilst Naples and Lombardy, situated at the
opposite extremities of the Peninsula, were both Spanish pro*
vinces, and as such in the hands of one of the two belligerents?
Innocent died in the mean time, and Clement XI. (Albani), a man
of elegant learning and taste, but timid and parsimonious, gave up
the project. He tried, however, and in good earnest, to preserve
peace among the sovereigns ; he spoke to them the language of
the common pastor of Christendom ; he sent ambassadors to the
various courts for the purpose of adjusting amicabl]^ the knotty
affair of the succession. His endeavours, although vain, reflected
far more honour upon him, and upon the Roman court, than the
intrigues of many of his predecessors, who had so often sowed
dissension among nations, and called foreigners into Italy. This
confirms what we have said before, that Rome was much altered,
and for the better, since the middle of the seventeenth century.
Spain, that is to say, its authorities, its grandees, clergy, and ma-
gistrates, had acknowledged Philip V., the grandson of Louis XIV,
Catalonia and Aragon alone were not hearty in their acknow-
ledgment, but they dissembled for the present. The Spanish
viceroys in Italy followed the dictates of the mother-country, and
thus the authorities of Naples, Sicily, Sardinia, and Milan, swore
allegiance to the Bourbon king. The populations of those de-
pendencies cared but little whether an Austrian or a Bourbon
resided at Madrid, while they themselves continued to be ruled
by Spaniards. Now came the intrigues with regard to Naples.
Both Philip and his rival, the Archduke Charles of Austria, in-
sisted on the pope's decision of their respective claims. The See
of Rome had claimed of old the right of bestowing the investiture
of the crown of the Two Sicilies at every new accession, receiving
as a fee a white hackney and a purse of 9000 ducats. This claim
bad been often contested and rejected, but now each of the con-
•tending parties was eager to acknowledge it. Each offered its
white hackney and its purse, and much more in secret ; nay France

G^mql His»rif of Modem IlaJjf. 8 i

aifd Philip even offered to the pope the cessioiv of ihe AbruiEzi^
to ba.aupexed for ever to the Papal State! .dement^ to his
tioiiour, refused^ and in tbia showed himself superior to those who
thus, tempted biin. Uceda, Philip's ambassador at Rotx^e, endjca-
Voured to carry his point by a puerile and indecorous stratage^m.
H.e .cqntriyed to iojtroduce^ unobserved, an old white horse«
covered wilh a .rich embroidered cloth, into one, of the courta of
the Vatican, on the eve of S^ Peter's, when the popei after ves-
pers, was coming out of tue ponti6cal chapel. Uceda's messenger
then pt-e^ented the horse and the purse wifh 9000 ducats, and|
without vj^aiting for an explanation, ran away. A gre^it bustle
and collusion took, place , among the papal at^ejidants. at the sight
of the jpopr hack, as if it he^d been the nivooden horse of Troy.
The. pppe, who had already positively refused to declare himself
Coia](be present itt favour of either pretender, w^^ pftended at thjis
iinpertinence* He ordered the horse tp be turned out, anc} tha
forlorn animal vvas driven the whole of that night, and .next day
about the streets of Rome, followed by the mob witli hisse^ aod
blo^s, uoUl it fell dead. This was a farc^ that preceded th^
tj-jbgedy.^ ...

Tbf fifstelasHing of arms took place as usual in Nprth Italy«
The Emperor Leopold, besides.. his. pretensions to .the S.panish
succession in tlie name of his son» the ArchdMke^ Chaf'jes,.prefeired
a pi^rticiilar claim to the duchy of Milan, as an imperial 6ef, which
had: been. jg^raiUed by former emperors to the Vispopti and the
SUbrza^and which>by the extinction of |he descendants of Philip II.,
to.H'hom Charles V. had granted the last investiture, bad now
revjfrled to the empire*^ ^1eanwhile he assembled a large foi'ce
in.iKe TyroK Pope Clement, seeiog the storm approaching,
mgide ,« last though ineffectual endeavour to ayert.it. He ad-
dressed-hinis^f to the Venetian senate, to induce it to stop the
passage, of the Austriaus. through the territory of the republic;*
But Venice -was exhausted by its Turkish, wars; the se,nators ret
fleeted that, by refusing a passage to the empesor's troops^ wliich
had been granted on former occasions in cousideiration of the im.-
penal dignity, as connected with the. title pf King of. the Romans^
thejr. would, in fact place thexnselves in a^tate of hostility against
that )poweri and would he tliereby. diiveu to an ;aIUance with
France and Spain« which might prpye fatal to them in the end.
How could Venice refuse a passage to the emperpr,. while the
])uke of 3avoy allowed the French to traverse Piedqiont, and the
Pope and the Di^ke of Modena pennitted the Spaoiacds to pas?
through tl>eir territories in proceeding from Naples to Lomhardy
and^jce ver^E^? The neutrality of Venice on this, as on all other
similar occasions before and ^fter« consisted in meVejy allowing

VOL. XVII. KO. XXX III. o

82 General History of Modern Italy.

the German troops to pass by the shortest road to die dachy of
Milan, without entering any of the walled towns, or stationing
and fortifying themselves upon the Venetian territories.

Before the Austrians had time to descend from the Tyrol, the
French contrived to gain possession of the important fortress of
Mantua. Ferdinand Gonzaga» Duke of Mantua, a man not de-
ficient in natural abilities or information, had given himself up
entirely to a life of effeminacy. His court was the resort of
loose handsome women, especially singers and dancers, from
various countries. He entertained them sumptuously, both in
town and at his country-seats ; and he kept nne barges on the
Mincio and the Po for their diversion. He himself never tra-
veiled unattended by a number of them. He was no jealous
sultan either ; for he left them at perfect liberty to go or stay
and do as they liked. Those who went away were immediately
replaced by fresh arrivals. In the midst of this dreamy sort of
existence, the uproar of arms awakened the duke. Both France
and the emperor insisted upon being allowed to garrison Mantua.
The Venetians proposed that the place should be guarded by
soldiers of the pope and the republic until the peace. But the
emperor, considering Mantua as a fief of the empire, would not
listen to the proposal. The duke, bewildered, and almost re-
gretting bis princely station, was at last persuaded by a French
agent to allow the troops of France and Spain to enter the for-
tress in April, 170). For this Ferdinand was put to the ban of
the empire, and denounced as a base traitor, and he ultimately
forfeited his duchy, which reverted to Austria. In him ended the
line of Gonzaga, which had reigned over Mantua, not without
some lustre, especially for their patronage of the arts and litera-
ture, for more than three centuries.

Victor Amadeus, Duke of Savoy, a man of a very different
stamp from Ferdinand Gonzaga, was all the time watching, ac-
cording to the old policy of his house, in order to make the roost
advantageous bargain for himself in the approaching contest.
He loved neither France nor Austria ; he wished that both could
have been fairly kept out of Italy, but, as this was out of the
question, be of two evils chose rather to have Austria in pos*
session of Milan, which could only be a detached member of the
Austrian monarchy as long as Venice lay between, than to see
Milan in the possession of Spain, which was then synony-
mous with that of France ; for in this case he should be sur-
rounded by the arms of the latter power and lie completely at its
mercy. He dissembled, however, his real thoughts for the pre-
sent, for the French were at his gates and the Austrian forces
yet far away. Neutrality being impossible, he resolved to joia

General History of Modern Italy. 83-

France in the first insUnce, in order to let the first fury of
the French, always most formidable in their onset, spend itself
and pass by without hurting him, determined in his mind to watch
the course of events, and avail himself of any favourable turn,
come from whatever side it would. He followed in this the ex-
ample of his ancestor, Charles Emmanuel I.

" This policy of the House of Savoy," observes Botta, *' has been
called perfidious ; it certainly was not faithful or loyal, but we ought to
reflect that a petty Italian prince, placed between two great overbeHring
powers, could not act otherwise if he wished to preserve the independence
of his states* The original injustiee was on the part of those foreign
powers, who ever since the time of Francis I. and Charles V. sought
each to hold sway over Italy and to treat the native Italian governments
as their humble depeodeots."

Catinat was again invested with the command of the French in
Italy, and Victor Amadeus sent him his own contingent. Prince
£ugene commanded the Austrian troops, who came down from the
7yrol in 1701. Eugene's first campaign has been much admired.
His sudden march across the mountains, by which, avoiding the de-
files of Chiusa, between the Adige and the lake of Garda, where
the French had posted themselves, he suddenly appearecl on their
right flank in the valleys of the Veronese; his unexpected passage
of the Adige at Castelbaldo, below Legnago ; and the battle of
Carpi, in which he deceived Catinat a third time, and drove the
French beyond Mantua and as far as the river Oglio ; these ex-
hibit a skill and quickness in tactics seldom surpassed even by
Frederic or Napoleon. Nor is all the blame to be laid upon
Catinat, who was one of the best generals of his time, but whose
judgment was neutralized by the rashness of the other oflicers
and by orders from Versailles. Catinat demanded his recall, and
was succeeded by Villeroi, a pompous court-favourite, who lost
the battle of Chiari and ended his generalship by allowing himself
to be surprised by Eugene within the walls of Cremdna and taken
prisoner in February, 170^- Eugene laid siege to Mantua,
whence the poor duke had hastily decamped, with his train of
singers and dancers, and withdrawn to his other territory of Casale
and Montferrat. Vendorae was sent to Italy to replace Villeroi;
he fought the battle of Luzzara against Eugene, in August, 1702,
in which the French had the advantage.

Victor Amadeus was by this time heartily sick of his French
alliance. The French generals had slighted him; Philip V. him-
self on his passage through Piedmont had offended him : he saw
that the Austrians were strong and tenacious, and he resolved to
make the best terms he could with Austria. In this design he
was eneooraged and favoured by his kinsman. Prince Eugene,

o 2

84 General History of Modern Italy.

ivho had not forgotten his Savoy descent and connections! Louis
XIV. heard of these negotiations ; he sent orders to Vfndome to
disarm and secure the Piedmontese troops^ to the number of
5000, who were serving under him. Victor now threw off the
mask, declared \var against France, and strenuously fortified bis
fortresses, and especially his capital, Turin. This was towards
the close of 1703. He was soon afterwards Joined by a body of
Aiistrians under Stahremberg, who, by a skilful circuitous march
along the southern bank of the Po, arrived in Piedmont without
being interrupted by Vendome. The war now raged simulta-
neously in two parts of North Italy; in Piedmont between the
French and the Piedmontese, and in the Mautuan State between
the Austrians and the French. In the following year, 1704,
Vendome himself marched from Milan into Piedmont with a
strong body of troops, whilst fresh French forces poured in from
the opposite side over the Alps to overwhelm Victor. Piedmont
was overrun by the invaders on every side, and all the horrors of
1693 were renewed, l^he Piedmontese, however, were not cast
down; they rose at the call of their sovereign; the nobilitj
joined their regiments ; the peasants left the plough and the ar-
tisans their shops, to enrol themselves in the militia. No com-
plaint was heard, no sacrifice was deemed too great. Xhe for-
tresses were well provided. Victor himself, at the head of a
select body of troops, was marching and countermarching through
the country, with which he was perfectly acquainted, avoiding a
general engagement, but attacking and overpowering all the
French detached corps he met with. The people were all for
him, and gave him every assistance and information. The sub-
sidies he received from England and Holland (80,000 ducats a
month) enabled him to support his troops in default of the ordinary
revenue, which could not be collected under such circumstances.
The French took Susa and Vercelli, and laid siege to Verrna,
which surrendered after an obstinate defence in April, 1703.
Ivrea fell next and Montmelian afterwards. The whole of Savoy
was now lost to Victor. The country of Nice was also invaded bj
the French. Chivasso surrendered, and the banners of the con-
querors were within sight of Turin. Victor was now reduced to
the last extremity : he had not a square league of territory that be
could call his own ; his only court and residence were within his
camp ; and he was reduced to the condition of a nomadic chief.
But his subjects adhered faithfully to him ; they flocked to his
standard from the places already occupied by the enemy ; they felt
that it was better to run the risk of being killed with arms in
their hands, than to be first outraged and then tormented and
slaughtered in their owu houses by an insolent conqueror. Pied-

General History of Modern Italjf* 85

mont was then in the same predicament as Spain has been in our
own time during the war against Napoleon.

The Emperor Leopold died in May, 1705^ and his successor^
Joseph \., continuecl the war against France. The victories of
Eugene and Marlborough, on the side of Germany, enabled
Austria to make greater efforts in Italy. Eugene came to the
assistance of his cousin of Savoy. He descended along the lake
of Garda, and drove the French as far as the Adda. Vendome
hastened to oppose his progress. Eugene was wounded at the
battle of Cassano, where, after an obstinate struggle, he could
not force the passage of the river.

In the following year, in consequence of the defeat of Ra-
millies, Louis XIV. recalled Vendome from Italy, as the only
general able to face Marlborough. The Duke of Orleans was
sent to Italy to replace Vendome, and La Feuillade was charged
with the siege of Turin, almost the only town still in the posses-
sion of the Duke of Savoy. The siege of Turin is the most
famous event of the war of the Spanish succession in Italy. It
decided the turn of affairs in the Peninsula. Botta has described
it with all the warmth of national feelings, but, at the same time,
with perfect truth. The siege and its results were glorious to
Piedmont, and honourable to Italian valour and perseverance*
It began in May, 1706. Victor Amadeus had fortified and pro*
visioned Turin with great care ; he left in it 8500 Piedmontese
troops, and 1500 Austrian auxiliaries, the whole under the com-
mand of General Daun. The citizens enrolled themselves into
a militia, forming eight more battalions. The duke, with a
chosen body of troops, hovered about the country, waiting for
the arrival of Prince Eugene^ and meanwhile annoying the
French, and intercepting their supplies. The French besieged
Turin with 40,000 men« 1^8 pieces of ordnance, and 50 mortars.
On the £7tb of August, a wide breach having been made, the
besiegers marched twice to the assault, but were repulsed each
time. In the night of the 29th they were near taking the town
by surprise* A hundred French grenadiers, favoured by the
darkness, descended into the ditch without being perceived by
the sentries, overpowered the guard of a sally-port, forced the
outer gate, entered the subterraneous passage, and were on the
point of breaking through the inner gate, which opened into the
place. This part of the ground was undermined ; the mine was
loaded, but the Piedmontese had not yet had time to lay the train.
An officer and a private of the miners were alone in the mine,
when they beard the noise above their heads, and guessed its
import. Not a nioment was to be lost. The soldier, Pietro
Micca by name, whispered to the officer : " You hasten out of

86 General History of Modern Italy*

this place, and I will set fire to the mine, and save mj town and
country. Teli the governor to remember my wife and phildren.'*
The officer, dumb with surprise, left the place. As soon as be
was out, Micca set fire to the powder, which blew ap the French
grenadiers, aud alarmed the garrison. The body of Micca was
found under the ruins. An humble private soldier aaved that
night the city of Turin from all the horrors of a storna^ «nd» at
the same time, secured the crown on the head of Victor. Botta
complains, and with reason, that the heroism of Micca was not
properly rewarded. Two rations of bread were allowed to his
family in perpetuity — a niggardly reward for such a service. Of
late years, however, the neglect has been felt, and the descend-
ants of Micca have been sought after. An old man, tbe last
remaining of the family, was found living in the mountains ; he
was brought to Turin, was dressed as a Serjeant of artillery* and
allowed pay as such. The corps of engineers have had a medal
struck to the memory of Pietro Micca.

On the following day, 30th of August, the French made a
general assault; they succeeded in making a lodgment in the
outer works, but the explosion of another mine blew up part of
the works, together with those who had taken possession of them.
After this the French soldiers would not return to the charge.
Prince Eugene was now approaching with the Austrian army.
He had forced the passes of the Adige, the Mincio, and the Po,
and, marching along the southern bank of the latter river, arrived
in Piedmont. Victor hastened to meet hiro« The two chiefs
ascended together the bill of Superga, on the right bank of the
Po, opposite to Turin. They saw the miserable state of the
fortifications, and, having reconnoitred the position of the French
entrenchments, determined to attack them. Victor Amadens, on
that day, made a solemn vow that, should the battle turn in his
, favour, he would raise on the elevated spot where he then stood
H sanctuary, as a perpetual token of gratitude to Heaven.

On the morning of the 7th of September, the Austrians and
Piedmontese marched from La Veneria and Pianeaza to the
attack of the French entrenchments, which were placed on the
north-east of Turin, between the Don, the Stara, and the Po.
The Duke of Orleans wished to come out and meet the allies in
the open country, but Marshal Marsin, who held the supreme
command, preferred waiting for the attack. The Germana and
iPiedmontese advanced with shouldered arms, and in the best
order, amidst a shower of musketry and grape-shot. The Prus-
sians, several battalions of whom served under Eugene, were the
first to scale the parapet, which they immediately set about level-

Cfetieral History of Modern Italy. 97

ling, to give entrance to the cavalry. The French made a stout
resistance, but at last gave %vay. On another point, Victor had
likewise effected an entrance, and the Duke of Orleans, who
opposed him, was wounded, and removed from the field. The
castle of Lucento, which stood on the left of the French position,
and in which they had placed their powder, caught fire. The
confusion and rout now became general* The French ran from the
entrenchments. The -garrison of Turin sallied out against the
fugitives, and the carnage was great. Between 5 and (>(XX) were
killed and wounded, and 6000 taken prisoners. The allies lost
2000 killed, and 1600 wounded. The booty was very consider-
able ; £00 pieces of artillery were left behind by the French, witb
the tents, baggage, most of the banners, horses, cattle. Sic. The
defeated troops fled towards Pignerol, harassed by the peasantry ;
scarcely 20,000 men recrossed the Alps.

Victor and Eugene entered Turin in triumph. The citizens,
after four months* privations, dangers, and continual alarm,
crowded around them with marks of sincere joy at their deliver-
ance. Soldiers and citizens repaired to the churches to offer a
solemn thanksgiving. No Te Deum was ever chanted with
more sincere devotion. Victor fulfilled his vow; he raised the
splendid church on Mount Superga, the dome of which is the
first object discerned by the traveller who approaches Turin:
there are the tombs of the Princes of the House of Savoy, and^
on the 7th of September, every year, a solemn procession takea
place, to which thousands of the population of Turin and its
neighbourhood still continue to resort.

The Italian campaign now hastened to a close. Milan opened
its gates to the Austrians; the citizens, weary of the Spanish
dominion, received £ugene with joy ; they swore allegiance to
the emperor, in whose name the prince promised them the
maintenance of the privileges granted by Charles V. to their fore-«
fathers. The remaining French and Spanish troops shut them-
selves up in Cremona. Victor recovered all his towns in Pied-
inont. By a convention between the French commanders and
Prince Eugene, the whole of North Italy was evacuated by the
French and Spaniards. Louis XIV. gave up Mantua to the
Emperor, without any attention to the rights of the Duke
Gonzaga, who had voluntarily admitted the French troops into
die town. The duke, who was at Venice, was overwhelmed
with ^hat he called the treachery of Louis XIV.; he pererop-'
^ily refused a pension offered him by France, and died a few
^■^nths afterwards broken-hearted at Padua. He left no issue.
I^bos it was that the duchy of Mantua came into the power of*

88 General History of Modern Italy.

Austria, in addition to that of Milan. Mantua was dealt with
pretty much in the manner in which Venice has been disposed of
m our days.

* The Austrians next proceeded to the conquest of Naples.
General Daun in 1 707 marched through the papal state, and en-
tered the kingdom without opposition. Capua surrendered
without firing a shot, and Daun encamped outside of Naples.
The Spanish Viceroy. Marquis Villena^ had no means of averting
the blow. The Neapolitans were evidently tired of Spanish
delegated dominion, which had weighed on them for two centuries
like an incubus, and had reduced their country to misery. Many
among the nobility, offended at the haughtiness of their Spanish
rulers, were favourable to Austria. The elelti, or representatives
of the nobility and people of the city of Naples, repaired to the
Austrian camp, presented the keys, and swore allegiance to the
Archduke Charles, as King of Spain and of the Two Sicilies.
The rest of the kingdom followed. The island of Sicily, how-
ever, remained in possession of Philip V. In 1708 the Austrians
took the island of Sardinia from the Spaniards. Nothing of any
importance occurred in Italy after this, until the peace of Utrecht
in 1713; and the treaty of Rastadt in the following year settled
all the disputes about the Spanish succession. The Archduke
Charles, having succeeded Joseph I. on the imperial throne, re*
signed all his claims to Spain and the Indies, but retained Naples
and the island of Sardinia as well as Lombardy. Sicily was given
up by Spain to Victor Amadeus, with the title of King, at the
particular request of Queen Anne of England. Victor also re-
ceived some additions of territory in Montferrat and the Val di
Sesia. The House of Savoy ranked at last among the kings of
Europe. The princes of that house had fought hard and bravely
for the distinction, and Victor especially had risked every thing
on the issue of the contest. He repaired to Palermo, where he
was solemnly crowned. A few years afterwards an unexpected
sally of Cardinal Alberoni, minister of Philip V., who in time of
profound peace sent a fleet and an army to conquer both Sicily
and Sardinia, terminated in an exchange by which Sicily was
ceded to Austria, and Sardinia was finally given, with the title of
Kingdom, to the House of Savoy, under whom it has remained
ever since. Victor Amadeus was crowned at Cagliari first King
of Sardinia. Don Antonio, the last prince of the Farnese dy*
nasty, died in January, 1731, without issue, and left his duchy. of
Parma to Don Carlos, son of Philip V. and of Elizabeth Farnese.
The peace of the Peninsula was maintained till the year 1733,
when, strange as it may sound, Italy became involved in the war
for the Polish succession between Stanislaus Leczinsky, protected

.General History of Modern Italy. 89

bjf France and Augustus III. of Saxony^ supported by Russia ami
Austria. The Polish succession, however, was merely a pre-
tence; the real object of France was to weaken Austria, while
Spain wished to recover Naples and Sicily. Victor Amadeus
having abdicated the crown in a fit of ennui, his son Charles
£mmanuel IIL had succeeded to the throne in I7S0. Fol-
lo\nng the hereditary policy of his house, he saw in the ap-
proaching contest between France and Austria an opportunity of
enlai^ng his territory and perhaps of gaining Milan. France
made no scruple in offering it to him, as soon as it shpuld be
conquered, and Charles Emmanuel joined his army to that of
France for the purpose, pretending in his manifesto that he made
viar for the independence of the Polish election ! The French
anj Piedmontese now overran Lombardy and took Milan. The
Aus'^^ans came down slowly as usual^ crossed the Po, fought the
battle\if Parma, in which 15,000 men lost their lives, without
any decisive result, and that of Guastalla, in which 12,000 men
fell on boi!' sides. The Austrians retired in good order to ano-
ther position?

Meanwhile Don Carlos of Spain had conquered the kingdom
of Naples from the Austrians. A large Spanish force landed on
the coast of Tuscany in November, 1733, and Don Carlos, who
had just completed his eighteenth year, came from Parma to put
himself at the head of the expedition, the direction of which
however was entrusted to the Count de Montemar^ an officer of
experience. The Spanish soldiers, in passing through the friendly
states of Tuscany and Rome, committed the usual outrages for which
their ancestors had rendered themselves famous in the time of
Charles V. The town of Orvieto was especially ill treated by them.
The pope obtained as a favour that they should not pass through
Rome. They entered the kingdom by the way of Frosinone and
San Germano. The Austrian viceroy, Visconti, had not sufficient
force to oppose their progress, and the Neapolitans themselves
were ready to turn in favour of the Spaniards. We remember
having seen once a book styled ** An Account of the numerous
Revolutions of the most faithful City of Naples,** for such is the
title assumed by that city m its municipal deeds and records.
Something of this facility to rise in favour of every new invader,
German, Spanish, or French, Angevin or Aragonese, must be
ascribed to national versatility of character inherited from their
Greek ancestors, but much of it to the manner in which the va-
rious conquerors treated the country, forgetting the promises
they bad made on their entering it. The people were sanguine
in believing that change of masters would bring improvement in
their condition ; and afterwards^ finding themselves disappointed,

90 Getieral HisfDiy of Modern Itafy.

turned with alt their native Tivacity to opposite feelii^. Botta
gives extracts from several oF the addresses delivered hy the ma^
gistrates, nobles, and bishops of Naples and Palermo^ at every
change of rulers, and they are certainly curious specioieiw of
southern flattery and hyperbole ; but he observes at the same
time that, after the specimens of the same sort which we have aeea
in our days addressed to republics, consuls, emperors, and kings,
we have no right to be very critical on the adulatory straioa of
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The addresses to
Buonaparte alone by French and Italians form a most mortifyiog
evidence of human servility, hardly ever surpassed since the time
of Tiberius Csesan

The conquest of Naples by Don Carlos, unlike former con*
quests^ proved in the end a real benefit to the Neapolitans. It
closed for ever the disastrous rule of the viceroys. Philip V.
instituted his son King of Naples and Sicily, giving up to him
all his claims to those two kingdoms. This was the beginning
of a new era for those fine countries, for Charles used bis autho-
rity with wisdom and liberality. The offices of the state were
now filled by Neapolitans} the revenue of the Country was
spent within and for the state itself. From the epoch of Charles's
accession to the throne till the French revolutionary invasion of
Italy, Naples enjoyed sixty years of peace, internal and external,
the longest period of tranquillity it had known for centuries.
Nor was this peace the peace of the grave. Commerce, industry,
sciences, and literature, revived ; splendid buildings were raised ;
numerous reforms were made in the economical and jadidal
departments ; the feudal power was gradually curtailed ; super-
fluous monasteries were suppressed, not in the unjust and sweep-
ing manner adopted since by mock-republicans, but with proper
regard for the rights of the existing inmates; the pretensions of
Rome were strenuously resisted. Botta points out in his 50th
Book some of the improvements effiected during the reigns of
Charles and his son Ferdinand. There are men still living at
Naples, who well remember the happy times which the country
enjoyed before the great revolutionary avatar of 1799.

The treaty of Vienna, in November 173^, concluded between
Cardinal Fleury and the emperor's minister, Count Zinzendorf,
recognized Charles Bourbon and his descendants as kings of the
Two Sicilies. It restored to Austria the duchy of Milan and
the states of Parma. Charles Emmanuel, King of Sardinia, lost
therefore the hope of retaining the Milanese, but he received the
provinces of Novara and Tortona, as far as the river Ticino.
And it was agreed that, in case of the death, without offspring, at
Giovaa Gastone, the hut of the Medici^ Tuscany should devolve

Geniral UiUory of MoJkm liafy. %l

upon Francis* Duke of Lorraine and Bar« who bad married
Maria Theresa, the presumptive heiress of Uie Austrian domi-
nions^ Lorraine was given in exchange to Stanislaus Leczinski^
to be incorporated with France after his death. Soon after this^
Giovan Gastone died, and Francis and Maria Theresa came in
1739 to take possession of the duch^ of Tuscany, which their sue-
cessors govern to this daj. •

Thus, the House of Medici, after three centuries of a sove*
reigutjt at first real though not nominal, and afterwards both
nominal and real, became extinct* They had risen from the
democracy, or plebeian ranks ; they were first demagogues, then
protectors, then usurpers, and lastly despots. The Medici have
been great^ both for their illustrious qualities and for their crimes*
The first bouse of Medici, the princely citizens, Cosmo and Lo-
renzo, were the most distinguished for the former. Their de«
acendants degenerated and were driven away. Leo X., Lorenzo's
son, was seated in the papal chair, and mainly contributed to
the fameof his family. His successor, Clement VII., a less amiable
man, called in the imperial power of Charles V. Florence was
taken and given to Alessandro, the spurious offspring of Lorenzo^
Duke of Urbino, grandson of Lorenzo the Magnificent Alex*
ander was murdered by a relative as wicked as himself. There
vere now no more male descendants of the great Cosmo, Paitr
Patria, excefi the pope himself; the collateral branch of the
Medici, the descendants of the older Lorenzo, Cosmo's bro-
ther, were called to rule Tuscany. Young Cosmo, son of Gio-
vanni di Medici, the celebrated captain of the black bands, was
elected first Duke of Florence. Cosmo was stem and merciless^
but more cautious and clever than Alexander had been.

** No one was more skilful than Cosmo in the art of taming people ^
be was indeed a terrible man, who might be held tip as a model to those
who deltght in that diabolical art. His descendants inherited bis prin«
eiples wiUi their mother's milk } a fetrfol race, descended from Giovsnm
di Mcdid, the Condottiere oC the black bands, who was the terror of thm
Germans, and from his son Cosmo, the dread of the Florentines. They
were all bad except one, Ferdinand $ bad for liberty, bed for public mo-
lality, which they tended to corrupt by their profligate example."—
Book xli.

Still, however, this second or ducal house of Medici, like their
citizen ancestors, deserved well of Italy and of £urope in one
particular ; they were the patrons of arts, letters, and sciences.
This is the magic halo that encircles and will continue to encircle
the memory of the Medici down to the farthest generations.
Another commandationy merited by the second or duod house of

9Z Gfneral HtHory of Modem Italy.'

Medici> beginning with the fierce Cosmo/ is that they effectuallj
resisted the pretensions of the Court of Rome in matters of tem<
poral jurisdiction. Cosmo would be master at home, and his
successors followed his example.

The war of the Austrian Succession^ 174N48| although it
raged in Italy as well as in Germany, produced no final alteration
in the political settlement of Italy as arranged by the treaty of
Vienna of 1735. The duchy of Parma alone changed masters;
it was given up by Austria to Don Filippo, Infant of Spain and
brother of Charles, King of Naples. In this war, Charles Em-
manuel III., King of Sardinia, sided with Maria Theresa; Genoa
and Modena with France and Spain. The consequence was,
that, after the battle of Piacenza, 16 June, 1746, won by the
Austrians, and the subsequent retreat of the French and Spa-
niards through the Genoese Riviera, Genoa found itself exposed
alone to the wrath of the pursuing Austrians, who loaded the
city with intolerable contributions, exacted in the most overbear-
ing manner. The insurrection of the Genoese people on the
5th December, 1746, on occasion of a mortar which a party of
Austrian soldiers were dragging through the narrow streets of
Genoa, and which they wanted to oblige the citizens to lift up,
put an end to this oppression. Tlie Austrians were driven by the
people out of the walls, a glorious event, of which the Genoese
continue to be justly proud to this day. Botta describes trnly
and with great animation this transaction in his 45th Book.

In Piedmont, the battle of the Col d'Assieta on the Alps of
Fenestrelle, which the Piedmontese won against the French and
Spaniards in July ]747| and in which the French general. Che-
valier de Belleisle, lost his life, put an end to all the attempts of
France on that side.

The peace of Aix-ia-Chapelle in 1748 confirmed the political
system of Italy as it was before the war, with the exception, as
we have said, of Parma. This system continued for half a cen-
tury afterwards, without being disturbed by any more wars, until
the French revolutionary invasion of 1796.

We have dwelt at length on these wars and treaties of the first
part of the eighteenth century, because a knowledge of them is
required in order to understand the political settlement of Italy,
v?hich has been the result of them. These wars, although begun
by the ambition of foreign powers, were not altogether mere
games of kings, for the Italians had a vital interest in them. It
was the interest of the Italians not to have any longer among
them a foreign preponderating power, possessed of the finest
provinces of the peninsula. Two hundred years' rule of Spanish

Geiieral Hisiory of Modem Italy* 9^

viceroys had shown what must be the condition of the foreign
subjects of a distant monarchy. The question for Italy was* whe*
tber Naples, Sicily, Sardinia, Lombardy, and Parma, were to
have their own governments or be Spanish, French, or Austrian,
as they had been till then ? This question, of course, materially
affected also the independence of the other Italian states which
had retained their native governments, such as Piedmont, Genoa,
Venice, Tuscany, Modena, and Rome. Luckily, the mutual
jealousy of foreign powers favoured the emancipation of Italy.
Naples and Sicily again became a nation, the crown of which
could never more be united with that of Spain. Sardinia was
given to an Italian prince, with the rank of king, and with a
considerable increase of territory on the side of Lombardy.
Parma had its own resident duke. Tuscany was secured to the
younger son of Maria Theresa, not to be united with the Aus*
trian dominions. The other Italian states, Genoa, Venice, Lucca,
Modena, and Rome, retained their independence. Milan and
Mantua alone remained under a foreign power, and that power
Austria. But the Austrian influence m Italy was thereby much
more circumscribed than it has been since the overthrow of the
Venetian republic by Buonaparte. The sweeping policy of the
Revolution removed the landmarks of Italian nationality, and
destroyed the two North-Italian powers. Piedmont and Venice.
The work of the treaties of Utrecht and of Aix-la-Chapelle was
undone. By the Congress of Vienna in 1815, the first only of
those two powers has been restored and even enlarged. But an-
other of the great advantages gained by Italy in the first part of the
eighteenth century has been preserved, Naples and Sicily having
retained their national independence.

Upon the whole, the first half of the eighteenth century was
for Italy an epoch of emancipation from foreign thraldom, and of
national consolidation. One loss only was incurred; Corsica
was detached from Italy, and became a province of France. That
island, rugged and poor, inhabited by a wild but spirited race,
had long baffled the declining power of Genoa. The Genoese
engaged French auxiliary troops to reduce it to subjection, and
at last, rather than consent to see Corsica independent, they made
it over to France by the treaty of Versailles, in May, 1768. Such
was the narrow policy of the Genoese republic. The Corsicans,
headed by De Paoli, fought bravely against the numerous and
disciplined troops of France, but the odds against them were too
great. The more ardent patriots emigrated, and Corsica sub-
mitted to France in June, 1769. In the following August, Napo-
leon Buonaparte was bom at Ajaccio: be was, therefore, by
birth, a subject of the crown of France. — Botta, book xlvi.

94 General Hhiory of Modem Italy,

The next two bboks of Botta's Htstorj chieflj refate to the
state of ecclesiastical dtscipline in Italy; the reforms made in
most of the Italian states, Naples, Venice, Parma, Tuscany and
Lombardy; the suppression of superfluous convents; the restric-
tions laid on the immunities claimed by the clergy; on the
asylums. Sec.; the disputes about the jurisdiction claimed by the
court of Rome in foreign states; and lastly, the suppression of
the famous order of the Jesuits. All these matters are extremely
interesting, and in general very imperfectly known. The resnlt
of these controversies was that a more distinct line of separation
was traced between the temporal and the spiritual audiorities;
diat the latter was restricted within its proper limits; the eccle-
siastical courts no longer exercised their authority over lajrmen;
and the temporalities of the church, and the regulations concern-
ing matters of discipline or affecting public morality, were sub-
jected to the sovereign authority of each respective state. The
great distinction between matters of faith and regulations of
church discipline began to be clearly understood and enforced.
The two brothers, Joseph II. and Leopold^ one in Lombardy and
the other in Tuscany, were foremost in these reforms.

The forty-ninth book contains an impressive account of the de-
structive earthquakes of Calabria and Sicily in 1783. The fiftieth,
or concluding book, gives a sketch of the social and intellectual
state of Italy just before the great moral convulsion caused by the
French revolution. The author notices the principal men of sci-
ence living in Italy at that epoch — Spallanzani, Father Beccaria^
Volta, Galvant, Guglielmini, Galiani, Genovesi, Fabbroni, &c.

^' With regard to the moral sciencesi, the ioquisitive and free spirit of
the age maDifested itself in Italy as elsewhere, with this difference, that
those who were most intent on reforming the abuses which men had
engrafted upon the stem of the Church, remained firm in the faith of
that Church, and kept aloof from the sarcasms and indecencies of foreign
infidels. The Italians wished to correct, hut not to destroy."

And here is the great distinction between the revolution in
France and the abortive attempt to force the same upon Italy,
where the public mind was in a diflerent and more healthy condi-
tion,— where ample reforms had been effected during the pre-
vious half-century, and others would have taken place without
any social catastrophe, had they been left to the hands of tlie na-
tives themselves* No doubt the French invasion effected reforms
at a much quicker rate. Instead of pruning, it cut down the tree
at once: it destroyed all remains o( feudality, but it also swept
away manorial and other patrimonial rights upon land at the ex-
pense of justice: it abolished the convents, but squandered away

General EfUtory of Modern Italy. 96-

most of their wealth| and threw thousands of innocent individuals
into unmerited distress:* it swept away communal property, church
tithes, charitable foundations, public as well as fiscal treasuries :
it stripped the palace of the noble and the cottage of the peasant,
the altars of the church, and the museums and libraries of the na«
tion. And all this was done, not as in Prance, by the impulse of
any great class or portion of the people ; it was done against the
wish of the immense majority of the Italian populations, whose
opposition was overcome by foreign bayonets. The revolution
was not spontaneous in Italy ; it was forced upon the country.
Even the more sincere among the Italian republicans exclaimed,
Volevopioggia, ma nan tempesta — " We wanted a shower, but not
a hurricane/' The hurricane has long since passed away; its
victims lie mute and forgotten in the grave, and no complaint of
their*s now disturbs the complacency of those who, remote from
those times of violence and danger, coolly calculate the advan-
tages which have resulted from the revolution. That the present
generation has derived some advantages from past convulsions we
readily admit. The most important of these advantages is the
improvement effected in the judicial system. Instead of the
former multifarious local statutes in almost every province or dis-
trict,t of the barbarous and often clashing laws and edicts of
Goths and Lombards, German emper<irs and Spanish viceroys,
every Italian state has now a uniform code, printed and publishedi
so that every individual may be acquainted with the laws under
which he lives. This is no small advantage, compared with the
former obscurity and uncertiiinty. The compilation^ of the laws
began in the last century in Tuscany, Piedmont, and other states.
Napoleon, however, extended the principle to all Italy. The
French civil and commercial codes have remained in force, with
some modifications, at Naples and Genoa. The Austrian code
is in vigour in Lombardy, and that of Leopold in Tuscany; the
Sardinian code in Piedmont, 8cc. The registry of mortgages has
been maintained. As to criminal matters, the publicity of trials
exists in several ^ates, such as Naples and Tuscany; and every-
where the courts of justice have been established upon a uniform
system, one in every province, and courts of appeal in the respec-
tive capitals. Torture has beeti abolished. The principle of

— ' • - . M... . , ■

* In the ex-lcingHom of Italy alone, which was about one-fourth of the whole Pcnin-
sola, church property was sold to the arooant of 200 millions of fritncs, and an equal
qoaiitity was anocxed to the i.ationa) domain. The auioant of the sales in the rest of
Italy is not ascertained.

t In Tuscany alone there were five hundred niunicipal statutes preyiously to the
reform made by Leopold.

96 General Historjf of Modern liafy.

equality in the eye of the law is univerfially acknowledged. Even
relic of feudal servitude or feudal jurisdiction has been removed.
The. numerous fidei-commisai, and other tnainmorie property,
have been unshackled and restored to circulation* The laws of
inheritance are in most of the Italian states upon a more equitable
footing than formerly. The ecclesiastical jurisdiction no looger
interferes in temporal matters. The progress of education, of
tolerance of opinions; the extension of the arts of industry; the
many material improvements both in town and country, the roads,
canals, draining of marshes, new harbours, manufactories, houses
of industry* &c. — these are matters of common notoriety* Such—
to say nothing of a corresponding intellectual and moral progress
among the people — are the advantages which Italy .has gaiued
during the five-and-thirty years that have elapsed since the be-
ginning of the present century. It were an error to suppose that
the restoration has stopped this progress. The restoratioHi to
use the words of a discerning Italian writer, '' has restored old
names rather than old things.*' Few universally acknowledged
abuses have been restored;

. And here the work No. S on oar list becomes of partietiler use
to the reader of Italian history. It is a continuation of the worthy
Muratori's Annals of Italy^ which closed with the year I73(X
Coppi has continued the series down to IB 19* Murstori's and
Coppi's together constitute a work chiefly for reference, in which
facts are registered by order of dates, and they are written upon
a different plan from that of a general comprehensive history, like
those of Guicciardtni and Botta. But many minute facts aod
details are more clearly ^nd quickly found in a book of annals
than in one of general history. Each work has, therefore^ iti
peculiar merit, add both together may be considered as forming
a tolerably complete course of modern Italian history. Botta*s
contemporary History ends with 1814; Coppi brings his Annals
down to 1819, and thus registers many important occui^rences of
Uie various Italian states after the restoration. Coppi has care^
fully collected the oflScial documents, treaties, general laws, and
public institutions, fas well a» the military or civil facts, which
occurred in the various parts of Italy during the eventful years
1796 — IB 19, with honest sincerity, taking care to refer the reader
to the original authorities*

SSSSSSSS^SSSBBSSSS

( 97 )

Art^ IV. — I. Roman de la VioleiUf ou de Gerard de Nevers, en
vers du xiiime Si^cfc, par Gibert de Montreuil; public pour la
premiire fois, dapris deux Manuscrits de la Bibliothique
Royale. Par Francisque Michel. Paris. 1834. 8vo.

2. Roman iPEustache le Moine, Pirate Fameux dn xiiime Siicle ;
publii pour la premiire fois, d*aprh ttn Manuscrit de la Biblio-
thique Royale. Par Francisque Michel. Paris et Londres,
1834. Svo.

3. La Riote du Monde. Le Roi d'Angleterre et le Jongleur
d'E/u (xiiime Siecle);j)ublii d'aprSs deux Manuscrits, Fun de la
Bibliothique Royale, f autre du Musee Britannique. Paris,
1834. 8vo.

4. Tristan : Recueil de ce qui reste des Pdemes relatifs i ses Aven-
tures, composes en Franfois, en Jnelo-Normand, et en Gric,
dans les xiim^ et xiiime Siicles: public par Francisque Michel.
Paris et Londres, 1835. £ tomes. 8vo.

Sib Robert Walpole pronounced "History a fiction:'' we shall not
here stop to inquire into the validity of the principles upon which
his assertion was founded, but. believing the converse of the pro-
position, namely, that all fiction is history, to be nearer the truth,
we purpose recommending to our readers the curious specimen of
. early Romance, the title of which heads the list of works arranged
at the commencement of this article, as deserving of their attention
in a two-fold manner — firstly, with regard to its character as a
work of fiction ; and secondly, with reference to the historical
illustrations of contemporary manners with which the narrative is
interspersed.

The Roman de la Violette, by Gibert or Gyrbert de Montreuil.
and which appears to have been written about the year 1^25. was
long since pronounced by Roquefort to be one of the most agree-
able productions of the thirteenth century ; and the perusal of it
justifies, in the fullest, this eulogium. The plot, which resembles
that of Cymbeline. is ingeniously contrived and clearly developed^
while it is at the same time related in a style which adds new
charms to it. the narrative never being interrupted, as is too fre-
quently the case in compositions of this period, by long digressions
on theology or love. Although the subject of the romance is not
historical, for there never existed a Count of Nevers of the name
of Gerard, or of any other name, to whom the adventures related
by our poet can possibly be referred, yet the work, from the ad-
mirable delineations of ancient manners which are scattered over
its pages, is of great historical value.

" £n outre, cet oavrage." says M. Michel, in his admirable introduc-
tory notice.'* independainment du plaisir qui peut procurer sa lecture, nous

VOL, xvn. NO. xxxin. h

98 Michel*— PreiicA Metrical Romances*

foomit presqoe tous lee moyens d^tBciier oempl^leiBeiii la tonmBe it
IVsprifc mn^oii et i'etal de la langue ramane d'oil daiit \» pr^nuer quart
tfoviroB da stiiiqia aitele."

And, in faol, tbe Roman de la Violette preaento a picture e£ It
ban fieu» UmfA» n» charoiiqg aqd characleriatie aa i|bj one pf the
time of Louis Quatpr«e from the aristocratic apd SQPi^l p^PcU of

Wntteao.

" As Watteao painted so did Gibert sing P

It i«« in saotb^ a FMhionable Novel of the thirteentli c^tiirj , bj
tlie Bulwer of th^ ^ay ; add as such we tbiqk it cannot foil to
^miise oiir readeirs, ^nd to give tb^m some correct potions of tlie
spirit of the age in which it was produced.

After n fe^r introductorj remarks, thf( storj eommei^cQa as
follows ;-r-

^ Wbilom in F^pc^ there reigned vl kingi

Who handsome was, bold and daring,

Young, and withal intelligent.

Hardy in arras loo, and aidaat j

Hi^b in bis favour knights aye rose }

Ww men be for bis aoiipcii Qh0fia«

Cpuqi^l he trqsted, cottnae) prized|

Couns^ \» ne'er the l^ast despised i

tie'd beeq wel} taqgbt. was wis^ withal.

And right good were his customs all.

Maidens and dames he held fiiU dear,

And oftentimes made them good cheer.

Conra^^eous too, and of great fame.

Was this King. Louis was his name.'**

The monarch here referred to is Louis the Eighth, who is re-
presented as holding upon an Easter day in the month of April a
'' cour biele et gentil" at Pont-de-1'Arche. Never since rioak
m^de the ark were seen such numbers assembled. Hie king
feasted them royally; and their joy found utterance in song. The
Couqtessof Besan^on, sister of the Bishop of Lincoln, eammenced
with the ballad—

'^ Ales bielement, que d*amor me duell."

* " II pt en France .j. roi jsdis,

Qqi molt fu biali, preus et hardls,
/ooenes horn fn et entendans,
Hardit at armet et aidant ;
Molt boDora \&i chevaliert ;
Dei sages fist ses consiliiert,
Contel crei, consel ama,
Ainc contel ne oietacsma ;
Bien estoit entaiEpi4i et taget,
£t molt estoit bpins tes usages.
Dames, pacieles tenolt chidres,
Sou vent lor faitoit bjekt cfaieret.
Molt fa preox et de grant renon :
Loe^i ot li roit i iiOD,"**pBge $•

Midiel— r JFVi0ttcA Metrical Romancef^ 89^

She WBB followec} by the Duchess de Bourgoigae, whq h§4 &
'^ elear voice and good song," and 9he again was succeede^l }^y %
host of noble ladies^ whose names and performances ^^ dulj^
recorded.

When this amusement bad continued foi some timcj i\ke p^rlJF.
ranged themselves hand in hand along each side Qf the ijallj, ^^d^
the King passed down between them, making his i^marks as I^e
went along. The royal attentioq was speedily arrested t^ ^ Qpbl^.
youth whp«» with falcon on his wrists displayed sa much q^^p^j^.
beauty that every lady who beheld him was captivated. Thi^ wai
of course no less a person ^han the hero of the poen^.

'* Gerard ivss thi9 vassal's name,
Who certes was of well-known fame ;
And for that he so well did sing.
Besought bipi before every thing
The fair Chatelaine de Dijon
That he wovild please them with a song.'^^

Gerard^ who was as courteous a^ handsome^ pomplied with her re-
quest, and the song« which of course (oqched upon the tender
passion, prompted him to boast of the charms and fidelity of his
mistress, the fair Oriautt Qerard was top gppdrlookin^ and
agreeable not to stir up a feeling of jealpifsy and discontent m the
hearts of some of his hearers. Among those whom he thus griev-
ously displeased wa^ li^ifirt CSopit^ de Foroisji who ^qugbt to re-
presept nim as ap empty bpastef, ^nc) oJ9ered, with thp King'^
peroiifsiou, to stake bis lands against tho§e of Gerardi that the
fidelity of tba |ady wo^ld not wilb^tand l^is templ^tioas. Qerfirda
fired 4t the pbs^rvatiqn, ^ccept^d the wagpr, which the King was
at lepglh ipdu(:ed to sanction.

Vppp this Lisiiirt tpqk His departure^ ficppippanied \^y tep che-
valipF^i all in the g^rb pf pilgrii»$» and dr^W Pig" to Nevers, wherp
the ffiir herpioe Ori$ii|t was espied seatpcj pt a turret ^yindow, lis-
tpnipg tP ibe pleasant warbliqgof the birds, sigi^ipg at ^he tbqught^
of hep- absent lover, and seeking solace for bis absence in '' up poQ
son poitevin."

'^ Quant cant^ pt la ^amoisseUe
Sa main a mise k sa maisiele.''

Into this tower Lisiart and his companions yere received for the
night, and Oriaut descended into the hall, accompanied by her

* *'U vasaos ot G6i'iir8 a.noD,

Qai molt estoit de grant renom ;
£t poqr chou qu'il pantoit si bien,
1a ot proi^ sour toute rien
I^pha»jelaii>e jip Piion j

K'il die .j. vier d*aQe cbaDfOQ." — page 11.

h2

100 Michel — French Metrical Romances*

" Maistresse" or Duenna, to welcome him. No sooner was this
ceremony concluded, however, than Lisiart poured forth a violent
declaration of attachment ; the lady turned a deaf ear to his ad«
vancesy returning him, instead of her affections, a snatch of song.
She then rose and ordered refreshments. Tables were laid, cloths
spread, 8cc. ; venison, roast meats, and fresh fish, in abundance,
were laid before her guest, who, however, was too busied with
thinking of bis scheme of villany, and with the consequences of
its failure— the forfeiture of his lands— to have much appetite for
the repast.

** The ancient dame of Oriaut,
The * Maistresse,' slie sate by the two.
Loathsome and dark her skin to view,
A treacherous sorceress was she too,
Gondree her name^ and to be brief,
Daugbter of Gontacle the tbief.
Begotten of a wanton nun.
Who bad in sooth much mischief done.
For, as it always seems to roe,
' From bad roots, bad the grafts will be.' "

*' Two children she had had, and slain,
Dan Batidry was their father's name,
A monk of Charity was be."*

This worthy coadjutor hi a piece of viliany immediately guessed
that the pensiveness of the Count arose from his passion for her
mistress ; accordingly no sooner was the repast concluded, than,
prompted by her love of mischief, she sought a conference with
him, obtained his confidence, and his promises of great rewards if
she would enable him to accomplish the object he had in view,
and thereby save him from losing his wager. Gondree bmie bim
be of good cheer, trust to her ingenuity and guile, and retire to
rest, for that his broad lands were safe. Two servants, bearing
wax tapers, then drew nigh to conduct the Count to his sleeping

^ "1a Tielle qui Moistresse fu
' OriMit, lift dalte le fu ;
Laide et oscure ftvoit la cbi^re,
Molt estoit desloiaas sorchiere,
GoDdr^ avoit la vieHe a non,
Filk eit Oontade le larron ;
Cil Tot d'une fautie b^oine*
Qui niaint meichief 6st de s'etkine ;
Poor chott di-JoQ, teh ett ni'<ntente :

* D» pole nchine putc enle.'"

• • • •

" .Ij. enfans ot qu*ele ot roordris,
Qu'engcnr^ avoic dans Bandrit,
Uiii moignes de la Carit^."— pp« %7, t8.

Michel — French Mttncal RorAances. 101

chamber^aBcl the treacherous hag went and prepared her lad/s
bed:

" Et quant elle son lit fait a

Sa dame apiele, si le coucbe

Nue en chemise en la couche 3

C'onques en trestoute sa vie

Ltt biele^ blonde, rescavie

Ne volt demostrer sa char nue.'* — p. 31.

No sooner was Oriaut in bed than the old woman^ coming to
her bed side, inquired of her why> during the several years she had
waited on her, she had so scrupulously concealed her person*
Oriaut explained that there was a particular mark upon her skin^
known only to her lover and to herself, the discovery of which by
another would be considered by Gerard as a proof of her infidelity.
The traitress, having learned thus much, departed for the night;
and in the morning, when she had prepared the bath for her mis-
tress, and left the chamber as she commanded her, she pierced a
hole in the door, and, as the fair Oriaut entered the bath, discovered
upon her right breast a mark of the ^ery shape and colour of a
violet.

Alas! had bathing dresses been invented^ what a world of misery
would Oriaut and her doating lover have been spared ! for Gon-
dree, without delay, summoned the Count to share her discovery,
who, having seen the secret violet, hastened back to the court, and
demanded that Oriaut might be sent for as a necessary witness to
prove that he had won his wagen A messenger was accordingly
dispatched for her, with whom she returned, and made her ap-
pearance before the assembled nobles in a costume, tlie ppet's
description of which rivals the elaborate, but somewha^t mystic,
language of Maradan Carson ; and is there as liiuch overwhelmed
with shame and confusion, as Gerard is with anger aud disgust, at
hearing Lisiart boastof her favours, and instance, in proof of his
assertion, the fatal violet.

*' On her left breast
A mole cioque-spotted, like the crimson drops
r the bottom of a cowslip : Here's a voucher.
Stronger than ever law could make : this secret
Will force him think Fve picked the lock, and ta'en
The treasure of her honoar."

But we do not purpose analysing the whole romance ; we have
recommended our readers to peruse it, and in the set phrase of
critic-craft, '' we shall not mar the interest of the denouement by
particularizing the means by which the happiness of the lovers is
brought about.'* Moreover, we have something to say touching
Euttace le Moine, a poem in which, froni its historical character^
many perhaps will find metal more attractive*

102: Michel— Fref9cA Metrical ttomaflee9^ '

Tttftn we then to the romance of Eustace the Monk.. IF the
author of La Violette may justly be regarded as the Bulwer of his
day, the writer of Eustace must be looked upon as its Walter
Scott. His hero is no imaginary persoii ; for, be it remembered,
Eustace stands recorded by ebntetnporary hi^tdt-idilsr, as an active
partisan of the barons in their t5^p6sitibn td John, as having
brought a fleet to their assistante, ahd d^ ti'aVihg been slain in an
attempt to land lipoh the English coast j be is then, as we have
s^id) hb ih&agitiafy h^ho, but btlb of rtdl flesh ^nd blood, bne who
I^lieiys a ^art in the ^uMU of the tin\e, and bought for hiibself a
nktiii^ 6f celebrity by dint of Unwearied activity, dti utidauhted
spirit, arid ati addiirable readiness of inventi()n. A getiitis oFthi^
bold %WA daring character was in bygone days looked Upoti as
sbihewhat mdre than human^ and Eustace accordingly figurled iti
the legends of the period d^ one tleagiied with th^ p6t\^^§ bf ISvil,
and wa^ stamped d cOhjUror by thode inferior spirits Who Wer^
thetnselves no conjut-ors. The consequence is, that the poem now
btefoi'ie us, although more nearly allied to a Hiymin^ throtiitte than
to i rbthance, knust bear the latter title from the gt-^at pft>poHidn
of mythic lore which its author has interspersed among those
portions which are liiore strictly historical.

Ad admirable preface deplete with ihfbrmation, in ^bich M.
Michel his with great industry gathered together, hot bhiy those
passagjes of the Chrohicles wheiieitt this " Robin Hood fibullon-
hoiS*' is spokeii bf, but al^o a number of extracts frptti the Close
and Patfehl Rolls preserved in the Tower,* in which he h ttien-
tibned, introduces us to the Poem, which coiltainis 2306 lihes, and
is Undoubtedly A composition of the thirteenth bentury. It com-
mtsUces as follows : —

€€

Briefly pf the monk I'll tell
Examples, which I know full well.
At Samt Saumur abided he,
{Sight leagues distant from the sea -,
There be did black monk l^ecome.
When be came from Toledo home,
where he had learned negromance.
There was no man in all France

* Some additional extracts from the Seala Chronica^ thQ Rctulm Mi*^ &c^ siibse-
qbetiily c'Omtauntcaled by Mr. Thomas Wrighl to M. Micijrl, ntay be found in the notes
to the " lUpport/' sddredied by the fatted to M. Gtiiisot, MinUtn ^eVtiutruction JPn5-
It^Ci at the termihatioti of his iiterar^ nriuion to tfaU ooitatrj. This rep6n (which ii
published by Silvestre, and may be procured from Pickerinff, the sgeot for all pi^lica-
tibnj cbnnected with Early French Literature) is exceedingly creditable to the mdastry
aad Aplrit of research dfsphiyed by M. Mrchelj and we haTo no doobt the fejiult of his
laboors aoMiig the Librsriei of Engtand witi not only vM to bis teptttatfoiH bat jftsttfy
to the fttllett the patronage of M. Guizot*

Who knew 80 many trfbkft i^nd Wiles,

Ort matiy A obe lie plilyed bis guiles.

ibr he had dwelt al ToMo

A winter and a snnutier too^

Wherei in a Aublerranean cave.

He oenterse with the fiend did have.

Who taught him arts of e?ery kind.

Wherewith to tnck and cbeat mankind.
• 4 » 4 ft

** Wbto Eu^tai;^ had learned ^ttottgh etil,
lite straightway look leaVe Of the Devil,
Who told him he wotild live until
He had ebntnted sufficient ill«
'GisltiSt kings Md eottilts shohld war uahitaiiii
And lastly en the sea be skin.'**

Which tlrophecies are all in the course of tht$ hidro^s busy i^af^l*
duWactOttipllshed.

Of Uiis \ite, however, as here tlaitated, cheatieted aS it is With
incidents both of grave and mirthful aspect, itlci latteV beitie by
fat- Ul@ most ^bunci^ht. We cannot dtt^mpt tb gite Uti dtininey
^iEirtly from wiitit of space, paVtIy frbm th^ thuractei^ of llH* iueU
deists diemselves^ many of which are of a nsitUre not td be rcpdited
tb ealli polite, lliis blemish^ great as it is, U the fault of thti
limes and hot of the authori and td quarrel with a Writer 6( ^
^irteenth century, because his language or subject doiM Mt
square With oUr ideas of propriety^ would be a6 ^teard and utti^a^
sddable as it would be to Upbraid him with the Un^e^mttneSs of

* " Del motgne brieroent tous dirai
Lei exattiples si com je sal.
II le rendi i Ssim-SaQiMr«
A .Viij. Ueues pAis de la mer ;
Illaecques noirs rooignea devint
Puis ke de Toulete revbt,
Oa il ot ^pku niglreniBcbe.
N'ot homme el roiaome de Franche
til tant s6ust an ne caraodes,
A mat nttei gens fist niabtes caad^t.
II an>it i IVialets esl6

r}ut ij. iTier et an eat6,
val sous terre en .j. abisme,
0& pai4oU ati raM6 raetitn^.
Qui li ai^kt I'taghlen at Part
Qui tout le iBont decholt et art.

«i • a ti

Qaant Wittace ot aaa^s aprit,

Aa li^bfe congl6 a priii

li djablet dist kil vivroit

Taut que mal fait ass^s aroit,

tlofi et contes gatenierdit

Bt sta it mer oeeia seniu"— pp* 1» 9<

104 Michel-— FrencA Meirieal Ronuiikcet.

his trunk hose, or because his ibublet was ix>t in aec<H*dance mtb
the fashionable notions of the times we live in. Whether the su-
perior refinement of the present day, which banishes (he practice
of calling a spade a spade, be attended with a proportionate in*
crease of morality, we are not now called upon lOKliscuss; we will,
therefore, substitute for stich discussion a few specimens of the
work which has called forth these remarks.

Afker relating sundry humorous adventures, the poet tells us of
the death of fiauduins Buskes, the father of Eustace, who was
killed at Basinguehans by Hainfrois of Heresinghans. The result
of which event is that Eustace quits his monastery, and gets em-
broiled in a feud with the Count of Boulogne, whom he had called
upon to avenge his father's death; and by the endiity of the Count
is dri?en to engage in a iMiinfoer of remarkable adventures, which
occupy a large portion of the poem. The first revenge which be
takes upon the Count is by firing two mills that be might give
li^ht to the Count, who was at the wedding of one of his vassals,
Simon of Boulogne.

Not satisfied with this outrage, Eustace next disguises himself
as a monk of the Abbey of Cler Mar^s, and accompauied by two
of the brotherhood rides out, meets the Count, enters into conver*
sation with him, and entreats him to pardon Eustace the Monk.
The enraged Count replies that, if he could lay hands upon him,
he would have him flayed alive. After some time the Count sus-
pects who his companion is, but Eustace not only contrives to
baflle all the attempts made to identify him, but is no sooner dis-
missed from this perplexing examination than he goes to the stable,
saddlesr the Count's favourite steed ^' Moriel," and mounting it
rides away, first bidding a squire tell his master that ''Eustace has
run away with Moriel." The Count and his attendants give chace
to his daring foe — but the former^ knowing the fleetness of Moriel,
has little hope of overtaking the fugitive. Eustace meanwhile,
after riding some distance, calls on a trustwoithy friend, to whose
chlir]^ he commits Moriel, and assumes the garb of a shepherd
just m time to point out*, in that character, to the Count the road
which the monk has taken. The Count rides after him, and over-
takes, instead of Eustace, die two monks who had been his compa-
nions; and while he is threatening them with instant punishment,
the bey who has charge of his sumpter*horse is deprived of it by
Enstace, who adds to bis crime by cutting out the poor boy's
tongne.

^ch are the adventures, add they are almost endless, in which
Eustace is engaged during his contest with his unrelenting enemy
the Count of Boulogne. He afterwards arrives in England, and
a brief abstract of that part of his story, which must be looked

JAichd^^Frenek Mdrkal RamahdiSt 105

upon as an historical passage, must terminate our notice of hi^
life and exploits.

Eustace, on his coming to £nglanil| threw himself at the feet of
King John» and cniv«d the protection of the English. monarch, in
the garb of an Hospitaller or Knight of St. John. ^* Since you are
an Ho${HtaIler it shall be willingly granted you/' said the King.
Said Eustace, ^' Hear my prayer. Eustace the Monk demands
mercy of you, and that you will retain him in younservice." The
King promised that his request should be granted, provided he
pledged himself to serve him faithfully, and produced sureties for
his'^MKl behaviour. Eustace replied by offering either his wife
or ddiBhter as a pledge.. '^ What!" said the King, ''art thou the
monk? . '' Yes, sire, Eustace ismy name." ''By Saint Aumon,'*
said the Kins, " but I will willingly reitain you." He accordingly
gives him oiaN^e of thirty galleys, with which Eustace sails to
Guefusey and Jersey^ which were both fortified and commanded
by acastellan, who, on the arrival of the fleet, addressed the people,
saying, *' Wait until they land, and then we will destroy them.'!
Eustace and his followers speedily. disembarked. Eustace made
up to Romerel, the castellan, who headed his troops. , " God*
chiere!" cried Romerel— -'^Vinoeiiesel!" was the battle-cry. of
Eurtace; and a bloody fight ensued. But Eustace, who was
armed with a ponderous battle-axe^ struck right and left, dealing
many a good blow, fracturing many a strong helmet, until at length
he made himself master of the battle field.

We must pass over his treachery to John, and indeed the rest of
the adventures of Eustace the Monk, that we may say a few words
on the subject of the " Riote du Monde." This story, which is in
prose, corresponds with its rhyming companion, "Le Roi et le
Jongleur d'Ely," formerly privately printed by Sir Francis PaU
grave, which last was the original of a very clever translation from
the pen of Mr. Lockhart, under the title of the " King and the
Minstrel of Ely," published in the Keepsake for 1829« and no
doubt familiar to most of our readers* Nothing further remains
for us now to do than to state that '' La Violette" is beautifully
illustrated, not only by fac-similes of the twx> MSS. from which it
has been printed,. but by six miniatures selected and elaborately
copied fixMn the illuminations which ornament the MS. containing
the prose romance of Gerard de Nevers ; and to repeat our satis-
faction at the manner in which the. several poems under considera-
tion have been edited by M. Michel. They are at once monumet^
of his industry, and indubitable proofs of his love and admiration
of the early literature of his father-laad»

Since writing the foregoing notice of M. Michel's editorial
labours, we have received a perfect confirmation of the justice of

filosd cdttMnehditiottt iflrfaiGh #6^ thought fit to beslttw il^ott Aenii
in the form of two volumes, contaioing The Poeticai SmnmHsH ^
^ston^ ifo fStmh^ in ^iigfo-NbrMafi« anA in Greth^ tmvjfiowtA in
ike I\iml/ih €MA Thirte^^ Qmtu¥ks^ edited by dist getitleiAaa,
Mid rerj d<egahtly printed* of tt siae to correspettd with #te
EngiUk '< 5ifr TWfretii)'' which fortti» the fifth volume df lbs laM
Mitioii bf Aii- Walter B^btt^s poetical worksi

The pdetkml tomattces hei« buMiahed aiPe prrfa<%d by ilti vsh
H^Dduettdtt of eomideraUe length* iti which* add in tke Uotei ac^
^hipatiying it* M» Miehel baa collected fttHii altnoat evtiry ttviitl-
Able sbttrce li very vatbable and extetlsi^e eollectidn of miileKab
iHbstViltiv^ of the aubjett ktf Sir Tristfam getterilly4 This ia fd-
ioWed by the Romance* contained iti a manuaeript t>f the tbafpl
libmt'y at P^ris* which Waa formerly Very iilipefcfectly printed by
Vbn der Hagen in the Appendix td hie edition tbf the Geraian
llVtshm nnd isi6lde,^n MHMr &ofttJHtd t^aa iSMmtof^i FhiM
tta^ stHle in which the hiitnuMript now in, the fit%t tWo teiiVaa being
so ittttth injured by damp as to reader whc^te passages Atally
Hiegibte^ it is impoasible to obtain iVom its perlisal any ceitai^
r^Ults as* td its origlH or its abthdr. M. Michel in* at)Wever*
of dpinioii that* if the language of it is not decidedly Attgid*
Norilian* the present version haa at all events been derived frort
in earlier ittanuscript which was so; and, judging froni this cir-
eUiUst^nce* from the localities which are specially mentioned la it^
and from the semi-English wdrds Which it contains* he does not
hesltdle to aVow his cottvidtion that its author was a TroiiV^ur*
Who flourished under our Richard or John> or at the latest duriug
the mign of Henky the Third. He Was pH>bably the Aemr
Idkmibi itk v. 12M.

** Bcrox Vb. mex en sen memoire."
And again in verses 1753 and 1754: —

'' Ne» si comme Testoire dii
Lott Berox le vit escriti"

The indirect manueir in which the writers of romances wete in
the habit of avowing theUiselves fully justifies the belief. This
t)b6tti Wbieh is the longest in the collection* and contaibli 4444
nto^S; b followed by another entire work* contaiiiinjE 576 versed*
arid b^irig identically the dahie in point of subject wiUi tte seeoUd
ih the Doute MS. published from a manuscript preservt^ in the
piubllti llbk-afy at Berne. This poem, the Iftnguage of which h
^^c^edingly difficult* Was unfortunately not obtained by M. Michel
until his Glossary was printed^ so that he Was prevented from
giving that facility td its perusal which he has atfonded to the clear
Und^tttbnding of the dther parts of his work.

Tte setond i^Blume 6f diis colleetioii opetts mih eemes of At
two fiiigtiiefito cenlaihed ib m maiittseript formerly bdongitog. to
that learned antiqitarj} the hCe Fmneis Douce; Bsq^ and pre^
sent^ bj hinl to M« MicheU with a view to their puUiesltipii.
The poekns in question are those ef which abstracU; from did
atcohiplished pen of the late George EUis^ aife to be found id the
Appendiit to Sir Trktriitni The second of diese poems apphar^l
bowevt^r^ to haihe been improperly designated a fragment^ inab»
mueh as it eotitains an epistnte in the life of Tristram^ whiih ii
perfect And complete in itself; and which, as We have already
obs^rr^^ corresponds exactly With the poem from the Sisriie
nlaiiuscript. It is "from this second poem in the Dboee M6i
tflat the welh-known passage^ containing an allusion to IRoimisi
supposed by Sir Walter Scott to mean Thomas of Ercekhlutae^ iA
quoted in his introduction to the Englirii rofteance) atld in which
mention is made of Breri-:—

'' N'^ dietit p(tt Sttldm BMi
Ky Bolt le gestes, te It euntes^
Be 't«E le reisi de tue le cantcsy
£i oient est^ en Bfetaangqe"— ▼. 648-r85 1 .

and Whom wtg at^ much inblinied to sasp^ct to be tdemmal with
the jBfrbct* of the PMi^ mimnsCfipt. Onr botfjeetiiv^ has at all
events the celebrated panillel - betwifct Momnoiith 'and Macedon
to keep it in cotklitenanee.

The Lai du Ch^?t%^feuiite) by MflH« Of Frakice, accurately
printed flidni the copy in the Harleian library ; and a fragment on
the subject of Tristnim) extracted from a French po^ entiU^
^ Dotinez des Amans/* contained in a MS. belonging to iSir
Thomas Phillips* conclude this portion of the work^ ^hieh is
rendered tomplto by means of a very ndaaUe Glosiiarial Index;
which i;riU amply repay M. Michel Mr the labour he must hai«
bestoWed upon itd formation^ by the assistance ^\th it will Tender
to his Veadersv The QieeL poem in verst poUiieH from a manli^
script in the Vatican^on dke subject of Tristram and other Knights
of the Round Table^ formerly printed by Von der Hagen> (but We
bdfcTe only for private eireulation,) and the Spanish rdmanen of
Dob Tristan, bl-ing die work to a conelusibn*

The jsuMishing of the poems bene collected is doing ^od and
acceptable service to the cau^ bf Middle Age literature | for
although mach has already been written upon this subject of Tris-
tram and his adventures^ the literary history of this most populfir
Tonlance is as yet very imperfecdy developed | and it ib oilLy 1^ the
pufolicaitibh of all the various forms in vmch it has appearedi and
by a diligent comparison of them when published) that any ap^
proach to a correct knowledge of such histloryis to bb hop<ld fon

106 Michel — French Metrical IRdmahces.

All that we at present know may be very briefly stated. Tristram,
says M. Michel, whether it was translated from the Latio, as
many of the MSS. declare^ or invented, was certainly the first of
the Armorican cycles ; its firet translator or author being an Eng-
lish knightt Luces du Gast; whose work gave so much satisfactioii
to Henry die Second, that he engaged Walter Mapes to publish
tlie Roman de Lancelot, and Robert de Buron, that of the Saint
Graal ; and when these three were completed, Helye de Butod,
the brother or relative at least of Robert, undertook to complete
the romance of Tristram, and engaged, in terminating it, to review
all the teits, original or translated, of the romances of the San
Graal cycle, with die view of supplying or re-^establishing what*
ever the previous writers or translators had omitted or wrongly
translated. Thus the romance of Tristram was the first com*
menced and tire last finished of die four great romances of the
Armorican cycle. Be this as it may, Tristram enjoyed a p<^u-
larity unequalled by any other romance. The Troubadours of
Provence and the Trouveurs of Normandy vie with each other in
the frequency of their allusions to it The Minnesingers of Ger-
many likewise breadie the name of Tristram in their songs ; and
his unhappy passion has served as a theme for the Spanbh Can-
cioneri* IHmte numbers him among the unhappy lovere :*-*

<' Vidi Paris, Trittano, t piu dl mUie
Ombre mosAnunmi, e nomimonuni a dito
Che amor di nostra vita dipartille."

Canto V. ver. 67.

Bc^ardo, Ariosto and Petrarcha likewise allude to him.

But to return to the history of the romance. ' When Gottfried
of Strasburg vrrote, and he appears to have flourished in the first
half of the Siirteenth century, not only did he find die atory ready
written to his hand, but it had been so long in circulation, that it
had in many of the versions been sadly debased and altered, and
Gottfried had to search for the story as told by Thomas of Brit-
tany, the Chronicler of Cornwall, which was one that could be
safely depended upon, and which account, written as is proved by
Gottfried's quotations from it, in Norman-French, we may pre-
sume to have been at least a century older. The story told* by
Gottfried corresponds with the story told by Thomas of Ercel-
doune, for we agree with Sir Walter Scott in believing the Sir
Tristiem edited by him to be the production of that writer, and
the poem alluded to by Robert de Brunne : and these both, as it
appears by Professor Muller's testimony, are closely followed by
the Icelandic Sngst, which was- translated in the year 12d6, at the
command of King Hacon. Such are the chief points in the his-
tory of ^ Tristram wkicb Jtave . been already decided, and from

Michel — French Metrical Romances. 109

^hich we may reasonably conclude Ihat^ should the original work
of Thomas of Brittany ever come to light, we shall find it cor-
respond very exactly with the English story. But enough of Sir
Tristram for the present; we may find another and fitter oppor-
tunity fbr examinmg at length the different versions of Sir Tris-
tram's history, and shall therefore spare such of our readers as do
not participate in our fondness for the time-honoured tales of days
long past further discussion upon the subject.

We are glad to find, however, from M*. Michel* whom we again
thank for his exertions in the cause, that the study of the literature
of the Middle Ages is rapidly extending ;* and we think the exer-
tions new making by himself and others to publish its best pro-
ductions will do much to spread still further this growing fondness;
for we believe, when its works come to be better known, they will
be far more generally esteemed. If freshness and originality are
to be reckoned among the greatest charms which can ^race any
emanations of human fancy, any out-pourings of human mvention,
^here can we look for those enticing qualities with greater cer-
tainty of finding them, than in the marvellous relations of the old
romanoers, than in those lays of bygone times which were the
doughty ancestors of the fictitious narratives of the present day !
Many of the latter, be it said^ are filled with incidents like, if not
copied from, those now to be found in the mouldy and wonn-
eaten folios, which are by too many looked upon as encumbering,
instead of enriching, the shelves of our public libraries.

Gentle reader, if you wish for a proof, you will find one in
Pelbam^-a principal incident in which resembles, if it be not
taken froni, one in the blaok-letter romance of Virgilius. Well
indeed, then, might Cbaucer and the conductors of the Retrospec-
tive Review exclaim :*-*-

<* For ont of the olde feldis, as men saieth,

Comitb all this newe come, fro yere to yere \
And out of olde bokis, in good faith,
Comitb all this newe science that men lere.**

^^^^■W** 11 ■*— — —■ ^— <— lfc^.1^ ■■! »—*— —^»^

* " La liH^ratare RomaDe,** ^y% M. Micheft at the doM of fab
" pMtqnt entUroowni iga^r^, il y a %nel<|a«» aim6es, a trouv^ des savanU pour la
faire connattre et dei lecteon poar TetufUerj en France, MM. Kajnouard, Mon-
mergoe, Paolln Paris, Robert, Leroox de Lincy, JabmaT, Chabaflle ; en Belgk]fie, M.
le BarMi d6 RBlffemberg; en AllemagDe^ MM. Iiainanael Bekker, FerdioHBd Wolf,
Lqdwiff UMandy eC Von der Hafioa; en Ai^letecre, MademoiieUe Looisa Stuart Coa-
tello, Sir Frederick Madden, MM. Thomas Wright, Thomas Daflfus Hardy, W. J.
tlioms. Sir F. Falgrave, et M. John Kemble, k qui la iitt6r8tiire Anglo-Saxoniw tloit
aUe uenreiUease Mitionde son plos bean monaiiMnt^ k poiioie deBe£fiil&"

* ( lid f

Abt. V.-^AfeiHimeiil9 de PBgypie et de la Ntibie. D^aprh le$
Dessim exicutin sur tes Lieux ; $ous la direction de ChampolHon-
I0- Jeune. PubH6s sous les ausnices de M. Thiers et M. (Buizot.
Par une Commission Speciak. Paris : Ftrmin Didot^ ff ^res.

This great work of the late ChampoTlion*^ is publi^h^d, %a it
will be seen from the titla^ by a special cpminissio^ appointed by
the Prenph gQvemment^ and under the distinguished auspices of
M. Thfers^ the present pren^ier of Fr?ince^ and hi^ late cpjleagu^^
M. 6ui^ot| minister of public instruction. Having given aq
auipl^ account in our last number of the progress^ fevelatipqi^
(ind prospects of Egyptian antiquarian discpverv^ as set forth ii^
Rossellini's work on Egypt, published pnder tne auspices of a
commission appointed by \he Tuscan governmental we think i( i%
due to our readers to exhibit to them all the additional lights |hrowa
upon the subject by the publication' before us^ and to enable
them to form a correct notion of the present state of the inomlry.
Only two livraisons of this work have yet appeared. Tbej
consist of a selection from the numerous drawings tal^en by
Champollioq in Egypt| with some brief and meagre pfeliminai;y
notices attach^d to each livraison, which profess to give $in ac-
count of them. They are very vague^ very jeitine, and occa-
sionally very inaqcurate. We blame not tne authors of them^
for they hs^ve the good sense, always accon^panied by qandour
pnd modesty, tp acknowledge their inadeauacy to the tasi| of
complete explaqation. They state that they find no notices amofi^
the papers of the deceased explanatory of son^e of the inscripliQns
over the battle scenes ; and Uierefore they have |iot attepip^^d (p
explain some of those which appear in the work. Other co-
lumnar and vertical inscriptions they have taken iipoi^ themselves
to leave blank. For this they are to blapnei since it do^s not fol-
low that, because they could not interpret them, they Cannot be
explained. In fact we shall take upon ourselves' to interpret the
inscftptrons which they have given; and we shall do so with

{erffect convictipri, and with a full seqsp pf the r^spppsihjlity pf
aving tha eyea pf competent judges in this country fixed upon
the interpretation. At the end of the notices aocopipanying the
^ecopd llvraison they apologise for not giving a vo)ume pf letl^r
l^reps description on the ground of present deficiency of mata-
rials I l^ut they promise explanations in the numerical prder and
of the same size (gy.) as tne illustrations, as soon as they have
sufficient materials to form a folio volume. Meanwhile they
intimate that the present notices are to be considered as merely
provisional. We shall endeavour to supply the hiatus thus fairly

MoBumewk ^\ffgtfp$ and Nubia. Ill

adinitt^y lA {^ving our readeps a brief wiftly tical acscount of Cb«
eonlents of t)ie firat two livraisona of Ibia aj^eodid national FveBch
work. In doing. so we may still continqe to gratify our ino)ina«
tion for that brevity* which in our last number we urged to be
one of the most essential ingredients in popplariaing the subjpet*
With this vieWf we shall confine ourselves ''to any points of espe-
cial interest op novelty, which may occur ip the successive lolioa
of these two livraisons ; and which may either impart new Itghta
or new corroborations lo the concentrated summary of the whole
state of the inquiry which we gave in our last number.

The first twq plfites consist of copies of inscribed steles at
Ouadi Haifa, Mashakit, and Djebel AddeK The only importanf
point established by the last is the title of the Pharoah Horas^
whose n^me 19 given by Manetho and the four collateral ehro^
Bologies which corroborate his evidence; who is the sw and
suooessor of the great Memnon* ^nd whose oval or titular shield
stands the 14^h in the middle series of the Stone of Abydos;
The steles at Ouadi Haifa and Mashiikit are curious and indeed
important in one especial particular. On sii of the Phonetie
ovalsi which are erenated, and whiph, instead of oartoucheS| the
usual name, ChamppUion on this ocoasiofi designates a^ beuoliers
(shields), appear the uafnes pf some of the heads of the varieus
countries conquered by Sesostris. We shall indicate them in
succession, inasmuch as they singularly confirm the suggestions
we offered in our last number; distinguishing, at the same time;
the separate Phonetic powers of the symbols employed.

The first contains the generic napne of the Scheti (spelt lih*o^
d-te) ; the second, the generic name of the Sons of MosQch or
the Muscovites, spelt precisely as in Hebrew ( jll-s-e-ft) ; thirdly,
the peopl§ of Aracan, spelt very nearly as that name is sounded,
(as for emample, Ar-rk-k«a-n) ; fourthly, the people of Oasan
(spelt C<-a-4*n); the fifth, is probably Busa, but the middle
vowel II is obliterated, and it stands at present 8- «se. For tbe
purpose of convenience, we shall take tb^ liberty of skipping
froii) the eommeneement of the first livraison to the end of the
second) the rest of the illustrations being taken up with one
entire subject, to which we shall then be free to devote «llou^
remaining attention in thi^ short paper. The d9tl| and concluding
plate of the second livraison is occupied with copies of inscribed
steles at Ibrifn in Nubia. They arenot very important. Thqyarein
honour of Mflsra-Thothmos (the eleventh shield of the middle series
of the Stone of Abydos), son of the fimious Moeris, grandfalher
of Memnon, and father of the Pharoah w)io, from all collateral
evidence, appears to have been eotemporary with Moses, and
who pjirsued the Isnielit^s to the Red §ea. Xhat j^faaibahf Uh

1 19 Monuments of Egypt and Nubial

soiii and aDother of the princes of the blood, distinguished by his
usual insignia, are represented as offering him homage. The in-
scription which accompanies the ceremony is, ''To the good
deity Thothmos, lord of the ends of the earth/' (the exact terms
employed by Homer, i. e. peirata gaies.)

As we have observed, the rest of the illustrations in the two
livraisons are taken up with one subject. That subject is Ip-
sambul ; and they comprise details of the two structures erected

KSesostris at that place, the Speos of Athor, the goddess
inus, and the Speos, or Sesostreum, cut out of the solid rock,
and apparently consecrated to the combined purposes of tenaple,
palace, and tomb. In the temple or Speos of Athor, there is
nothing which calls for prolonged commentary. Tiie founder's
favourite wife, whom Champoliion calls Nofre-ari, is repreaenled
throughout as the presiding divinity of the temple of Venus;— in one
case apotheosized and worshipped by Sesostris in the character
of Athor ; in the other associated with him in the presumptuous
claim of divinity, he being enthroned by her side in the character
of Ammon. We may here remark, mat we object entirely to
the name of Nofre-ari^ as assigned to the second wife of Sesostris
by Champoliion. In giving her that name, he violates his own
definition of the Phonetic language ; employing one of the sym-
bols syllabically and leaving out others. For instance, he omits
the si of the vulture (maut), with which the name commences,
and which he interprets Maut oi| another occasion, viz. in the
instance of the mother of Memnon, and he gives to the guitar,
which, according to hb theory, ought only to represent an rf, the
full syllabic or heraldic expression of Nofre, which is the Egyptian
name for that instrument. Again, he takes the sisna . for ari
which follows, but he leaves out the Phonetic signs of the
word Mm at the end. Upon his own system, we shall reverse
his interpretation. We should leave out the guitar, as a mere
symbol of a good divinity, and giving to the whole of the rest of
the characters Champollion^s Phonetic powers, we should read the
name Mariamue, a well known Jewish and possibly an Egyptian
name. We shall not, however, waste our time in cavilling about
this luime, but for the present invest the lady with the very un-
euphonious appellation which Champoliion has given to her,
Thei name of tiie wife of Sesostris, Butaniathe, we do not object to.
.Both queens are exhibited in coloured costume, in plate 3 of the
second livraison. There is one large half-length portrait of Nofre-
ari; a second of full length; and a third, a full-length of Butaniathe.
But all diree have been given before by Rossellini, and merely confirm
his accuracy. We return to the Speos of Athor, merely to ob-
serve, in quitting this part of the subject, that Sesostris, design

Monuments of E^pt and Nubia ^ 1 13

nated by his never-varied Phonetic and titular symbols^and which
appear in the proper order of succession first on the third series
of shields on the Stone of Abydos, is on two occasions repre-
sented before his accession to the throne; the tide of " Benevot
lent God'^ being substituted for " King by the will of the people/'
or ** of a willing people.'' It appears that he was married for
several years before his accession ; since he is followed^ on ono.
occasion, while oiTeriug incense to Horus, by a young female
child^ who in the inscription is called his daughter, and named
Amentbeme. On one occasion Nofre-ari Is called " Queen and
royal wife of Ammon.;" which would lead one to infer that she
had been one of the Palladia the royal order of nuns, to which
many of the princesses during their nonage belonged, and who
were consecrated by a temporary vow of virginity to Amnion.
Part of a dilapidated statue of Athor appears on the extreme
wall pf the saceilum of the temple. The figure has a cow's head
surmounted by a lotus ; and the name Athor, — which signifies
House or Womb of the Sun, the Egyptian Messiah, or Bethshem*
isb,* threatened by the prophet " with having a fire lighted in
it, which should destroy its images," — is clearly visible above the
head of the broken and decayed statue. Marks of fire are met
with throughout the interior. The antithesis implied by the pro*

* The pMsage i9> " He sinll break the images of BetbsbemUih, and horn wUh fire
the bouses of the Egyptian gods/' Jeremiah, c. 4S, ver. IS* The word Athor means
the same as Bethshemish, both, Phonetically and syrobolicail^, implying the Hoase of
Oras or fbe Son • Her symbol is a hooae with a hawk wttbiu it. She is the Vif^go or
VirglD of the Egyptian socijac, roysterioosJj holding bex son Oros, the fahe Messiah of
£g|p^ on Irar knees. We need not wonder therefore, at the denunciation of the pro-
phets against Egypt, nor at the pecoliar character of the denunciation. We need not go
to the Promefhens of uEtcbylos, or the Pollio of Virgil, to shew that all the Pa^aniMik
tions, reeeiTing tbeir rites iron Egypt, had a traditional ejcpectation of a conqaering
Messiah. But tite pecoliar characteristic of Egyptian arrogance was, tliat the Fharoahs
iDCCessiTely chimed to themseUes divine honours, as the expected Epiphany or Incar-
nattoiu Thoi, one of the Phsroahs is represeitted in the propheciei as saying, " I am a
God, and sit on the tbrone of God, in the midst of the seas.'' Again, '< The river is mine
and I mad« it." The whole early line of the Pharoahs arrogated to themselves this blas-
pherooos designation. Sesostris especially did so, offering and cansing divine honours to
bepaidtobimself in the character of tbeSon of Ammon» and obviously anderteking.bia
arabitkms design of universal empire in the character of son and vicegerent of Ammon, in
order to roakeTiimself the earthly god of the whole world's idolatry. The chief purport
of the prophetic denunciations is to condemn this arrogant assumption, and to reclaim from
the Cslbe cbuich In Egypt, on bebaJf of the true church in Judsa, the vir^n daughter
ef Jodab, the right of giving birth to the true Messiah* It is a curious circura»tanc»
tbst, as through the whole of the Jewish xymbols (liere are evidences to be^ found of

pear that,

marked Pine or connected purp< .. ^ _ ,,_

embodied in these denunciations, while the threat, expressed in a symbolic manner,
appears to aim at contrasting the humiliating confnsion threatened to Egypt with the
pivsomptaoas canfidence reposed by Egypt in the gods and monarcha of its idol
woTsiiip. For instance, in the preceding verse of the chapter above referred to, a

VOUXVII. MO. XXXIII. I

1 14 Manumtnti of Egypt and Nnhia.

phecy between the retd fire threatened and the profime fir« Gghled
up within this temple by the orgies of Venits^ and the pretumptnoas
deifications of mortal beauties which cover its walUj is olivioas
and striking. The eighth and ninth folios of the first liTimisoD
represent the front elevation of the great Sjpeos of Ipsambttl,
which indeed depicts and records the Titaniaa ambition of its
great founder*

Four of the Caryatides which support the architrave are enor-
oious colossal statues of Sesostris himself; two, of his fiivoarite
wifei in the character of Venus or Athor. At the foot of each
of his statues stand two of the princes, his sons ; and at the foot
of each of her's two of the princesses, her daughters. Bat the
latter do not rise above half the height of the leg of tbe sis
colossi which compose the magnificent and unique portico of this
astonishing Troglodyte palace. On the left side of the portal, Se*
sostris is sculptured in the act of slaying a vanquished negro, who
wears large gold ear-rings. On the right sid^, he is repreaented
in final conflict with the same chief of the nation of the Roboari,
whose duel with him is depicted at Louqsor. The lOth plate
exhibits the same profile of Sesostris as had been previoasly
given by Rosselltni, and some of his accoutrements and omaaaeats,
none of which call for notice, unless we may except the oeo/
clasp of his sword-belt, which contains the symbols of his name.
The Idth plate is coloured, and represents him in his chariot,
in all the magnificent panoply of an Egyptian monarch and
conqueror. The car, instead of being of bronze, as usual, is on
this occasion chiefly composed of gold. His steel casque is em-
bossed with gold. His bow, formed generally of two pieees of
elastic steel, united by a central band, is of gold, or of steel

enamelled with gold ; and his whole person is covered with a pro-

I I I i.iiii ■»iii.ii» p^^^^j ,, I , ^^^^^1^

second shepherd desolation is denoanced . " He (Cyras) shall amy himietf with tbe
laud of Egypt as the shepherd putteth on his garment."

Again in Isaiah, xii. l, all the symbolic threats are opposed to the aymbolie ooofi-
dences of Egypt : *' A cloud to the son, a fire to Uie heart.*' And it is nioet eurkms
that a burning heart was in fitct a symbol of Egypt. " Behold, the Lofd ridctk opoo
a cloud, and the idols of Esypt shall be moved at his presence, and the heart of £f;ypt
■hall melt in the midst of it. All the verses of the same chapter, from three to tmSwt,
an most curious in theirreferences to Egypt. The allusion to the fishers, sprsadtAg iMr
sets on the waters in the midst of the reeds of papyrus, will immediately bring back to
the recollection of our readers the strilLlrig grapliic illustrations of fishermen, with tfadr
peculiar Egyptian net and their ambuscade arouup the reeds of papyrus, which RoascU
Jini supplies ; and to which we have referred in our review of his ingcnioua wMk.
One currohoratlve passage fcom Ezelciel respecting Egypt may be added to the fefa*
goine: "I will cut off the multitude from No," viz. from populom Tlttbes» that
moltitode in which she boasted — the pMtUi d^moii of Homer. And again, " N^ph,"
t. ff. Memphis, ** shall have distresses daily ;"— not, so the contrast implies, her fictiiaoQS
waitings for the dead. " AtTehaphnehes, the day (i, t. the orb of day) shall he daA*
ened, when T shall break there the yokes of Egypt'^ The allusion to the yoke of Apis,
in the last Instance, is evident. Esekiei, ixi* 14, 15, 16, 18.

MoimmenU of Mgjfpt and NuHa* 1 15

fiiiion of gold onMmento and jewellery, coasistbg of brtattr
plate, armleU, bracelets, girdle, and pouch, an appendage to the
J£gyptian military apron, as it is to the kilt and philibeg; and
Ike sqoare Arine-*like symbol of truth (omtin^-^^^whicb offers some
featims of conformity with the Jewish Urim aqd Tbummim) is
Bittpended by a heavysgold chain round his neok. All this rich
accumulation of ornaments is partly dimmed rather than con*
dealed by the green muslin robe, which appears to have been a
peculiar and favourite costume of the Pbaroabs* The horses
which draw the oar are magnificent, and their caparison is as
gorgeous as the warlike harness of their master. Their neeks
are loaded with ornaments ; their heads are diademed with gold
and jewels, and surmounted by stately ostrich feathers. A run*
ning footman runs before the car. His tunic is of cloth of gold ;
in one hand he carries a truncheon ; in the other his bow and
surawB. A black-iiringed cap constitutes part of his costume, and
large and heavy gold bracelets of a peculiar form invest his left
«rm, whicb may have been either a symbol of his station in (he
royal household, or an accoutrement intended to protect the left
arm in drawing the bow from abrasion by the rebound of tht
iString after discharging his arrows. The lion which, according
to Diodorus Siculus, ip his warlike expedition, accompanied
Osymandias, a name proved to have been a title of Rameses
Meamon, runs by the side of the chariot of Sesostris. A brief
insoiipiion, in a single line, written horizontally over the head of
the wnole pompous paraphernalia, merely announces that ^' this
is the golden chariot, and these the horses of the Great King.*'
In a lateral vertical inscription there are the terms of the com*
aion ** Vivmt Rej^' in use now, like the " O King^ live for ecer,*'
peculiar to the Persians. It may be correctly translated — Atnmon
me Rameses (we doubt extremely all Champollion's interpreta-
tions of the titular shields — interpretations confessedly not go-
verned in any respect by the Phonetic discovery) — *' To him be
yoy and life dailff and for ever /"

.The first folio of the second livraison contains the portraits of
Ae wives of Sesostris^- which we have already described, but it
4ulds a half-lengtb coloured portrait of Sesostris himself. This
baa not been given by Rossellini, and, with the exception of the
Moorish complexion, it is so like Napoleon Buonaparte, that
it nright be readily taken for a portrait of that modem conqueror
bin)|self. The rest of the plates in the second livraison are chiefly
occupied with the details of part of one of the great campaigns
t»f Sesostris, and which are in a great measure either dupli-
cates or copies of the same sculptural description at Louqsor.
•These <|etaHs are t^eo from the north wall of the vestibule of

12

1 16 MonuniefUs of Egyjd tu^d Nubia^

the Speos* at Ipsambul. It was against the Scythian people^
called the Scbetiia the inscriptions, with their allies, called Robou
by Champoliioo, but who are occasionally called Robonrim^that
this campaign was undertaken. It gives only an incomplete view
of the campaign ; representing various portions of the field of
battle, before, during, and after the confli^ That field of battle
is a plain intersected by a river, on one of the banks of which
Sesostris pitched his encampment; the same river encircles a hiili
on which stands the fortified town of the enemy* The illustrs*
tions depict the march of the Egyptian army in various divisionsy
consisting of infantry and chariots — the shock with the hostile
squadrons — the defeat of the latter upon the plain, and tl» flight
of the defeated remnant of their army to their foitified totnii
whej^e .they await his attack. The illustrations contained in these
Uvraisons show the manoeuvres employed by Sesostria and hii
army in order to surround, and make a general attack opon, the
town* We shall briefly direct attention to the most renouukabie
points, which characterize these curious and important represent
tations of a warlike campaign, conducted between S and 4000
yesrs ago.

On plate 1 8, the proof that the Egyptians had occasional cavaiiy^
as well as charioteers^ is given by the representation of a man oa
horseback ; and a body of spearmen are seen marchiiq^ in Inie,
with their commanding oflicer directing their regular militaiy
step. The Egyptian mfantry are arm^ with spears, swords,
and shields, and protected by close-fitting helmets. Ocoasionally
cuirassiers appear among the corps of iabntry ; and the cuirass,
consistit^ of moveable plates of steel, descending downwards
to the military kilt, almost always designates the charioteers,
who are also alwc^s moustacbed. The body coat of mail and
the striated apron sometimes resemble the classic form of Greek
military costumes. Two men always occupy one car ; one to
drive the horses, the other to fight.' The spirit with whtcb the
long procession is invested by the sculptor, as will be seen at the
bottom of the successive folios IB, 19, 21, and ^5, is worthy of
the exaniination of the artist. The variety of action and play of
muscle imparted to the beautiful horses, the different phy-
siognomies of the warriors, and the general beauty in the dispo*
sition and arrangement of the chariots separately, as well as of
the whole group, will, we think, convince the most sceptical of
the fact, that from this source the much-admired equestrian pro*
cessions on the Athenian temples were originally derived.

Plates W and 2(2 are chiefly remarkable for representing the
^mmpter mules of the army carrying baggage panniers for its
use, jsiid the droves of oxen which accompany the expedidoo«

MMumenii of Egypt and Ntibta. 1 1 7

Tbe armed inen^ oil the turrets of the walls of the Robourini^
protect themselves from the discharge of the enemies' arrows by
large shields of leather^ or some other material, the top of them
bemg fixed like a sail to strong uprights^ and the lower, or broader,
end to the ramparts.

Plates 2^, 23 and 24 are chiefly taken up with exhibiting the
details of the arms, armour, discipline, and order of battle of the
Robou or Robourim. They appear to have been a powerful
nation, and not much behind the Egyptians, either in the number
of their army, in its discipline, or in the character of their offen-
aive and defensive arms. There is a difference in the latter, but
no inequality. Their army is also divided into infantry and cha-
lioteera. The charioteers wear cuirasses, and carry shields,
spears, and bows; but they are distinguished by the form of
their shieMsy which are generally square, as opposed to the
truncated oval form of the Egyptian. They have a broad brim
to tbem> and are divided by vertical and horizontal lines into a
number of square plates of metal, which probably covered a
"wooden frame. The helmet differs from the Egyptian in having
a tasselled crest. Tbe car also differs in being square and cum-
brous, like a waggon. It was also in many instances covered
with the same series of squares either to ornament or to protect
the shields, and the car held three warriors instead of one. The
latter also are distinguished from the Egyptians, who wear mou-
staches, by a lock of hair hanging fi*om their temples. Their
force must have been considerable and well matched in point of
number with the Egyptian. Thanks to some of the inscriptions
which the French commission have preserved, while they have
superciliously omitted others, we can arrive at a pretty correct
knowledge of the number of the contending armies, of the number
of the prisoners made, and of the number of the dead. Over the
heads of a single brigade of the charioteers of the Scheti and the
Robourim appear in one instance the symbols of 9,000, Now,
when it is added that their chariots Are quadriga, that is to
say, are drawn by four horses abreast, which is sometimes
the rase with the Egyptian, but not always, not fewer than
36,000 horses and 27^000 warriors must have been in this
brigade alone. A similar estimate may be formed of the force
of tbe Egyptian army. Over the heads of one column of heavy-
armed infantry appear the words — *^ 9^000 men bearing spears and
ghkldSf under the command of his majesty himself, who overthew the
bad race"

The 24th and 25th plates represent the defeat and flight of the
Scheti and Robourim, and their pursuit by the Egyptians across the
river to tbe town. The sculptor on this occasion has exhausted all

118 ' M(m$imenii of X^gypt and Nubim.

his iDgenuity, and striven to equal in graphic power the flights or
poetic imagination^ while portraying the rout of one party and the
pursuit of the other. Sesostris, in the centre of the battle, is made
the h^x> and central obiect of attraction of the laboura and
glories of the day. All the turmoil and terrora and bodily suf-
fering of a field of battle are depicted to the life. It is Grajr's
poetical picture embodied in sculptural narrative.

•'Where his glowing eye-halls turn.
Thousand weapons round him bum :
Where he points his purple spear^
Hasty> hasty rout is there ;
Marking with indignant eye
Fear to stop and shame to fly i
Here confusion, terror's child.
Conflict fierce and ruin wild.
Agony that pants for breath,
Despair and honourable death."

There are some prominent incidents represented in the con-
cluding scene of these battle-pieces, which deserve to be distin-
guished and selected from the confused mass of objects that
produce the aggregate result of order amidst disorder intended
by the sculptor. The general resemblance borne by the re-
presentation to Homer*8 description of fields of battle in the Iliad
is remarkable. Warriors are seen dashed headlong from the cars
by the stroke of the javelin or the arrow ; — terrified or wounded
horses, rearing and plunging amidst the contest; — cars, devoid of
their riders or overthrown, whirled from the scene of action by
the frightened and astonished animals, and the chariot wheels of
the Egyptian hero, like those of Achilles, dashing over heaps of
dying and dead. In some cases the contending warriors, descend-
ing Kom their cars, appear to parley, like Diomed and Glaucus,
amidst the pauses of the battle. In one case two young warriors
belonging to the combined army of the Scheti and the Robourim
are carrying off their dead companion, who is placed at the
bottom of their chariot, and they are pursued by an Egyptian
warrior, who threatens them with his lance and taunts them with
his words, while they, looking back towards him^ await his attack,
the one with contemptuous, the other with smiling, tranquillity.
We can hardly help fancying that we hear the beautiful apostro-
phe of Virgil's youthful hero, Euryalus —

*' In me convertite ferrum.
Me, me ; adsum qui feci."

The shock of the hostile cars of the Egyptian and Scythian
squadrons, distinguished from each other by the contrasted cha-
racteristics we have detailed, as exhibited in plates 23 aqd 24,
and the tumultuous effect of the collision, are spiritedly expressed
by the sculptor :

Monumenis of Egypt and Nubia* 1 19

" Armi on armour oiashtng bray
Horrible discord ^ and the madding wbeds
Of brazen chariots rage.''

The diddplioe of the Egyptian army^ and its military organiza-
tion, are most obvious. The cavalry advance in double columns,
that is, eight horses abreast, when the chariots are quadrigse,-^
four, when bigae. The infantry generally advance in line, each in-
dividual of the rank moving with regulated step, and a centurion
or captain heading every rank, directing their movements with a
long truncheon or staff. Homer's description of the military or-
ganization of the Greeks, as contrasted with the clamorous and
tumultuous attack of the more barbarous Asiatics, will probably
occur to the classical reader while surveying these curious revived
proofs of ancient strategics.

'* Silent they move, a well-appointed throng.
Chief urges chief, and man drives man along."

The archers discharge their arrows, like modem musketeers, in
regular platoon. Slow and double quick time characterize, as in
modei'n times, the various orders of march. In one of the last
plates, after the battle has been won, and when the assailants of
ftll arms are advancing rapidly to turn the right and left flank of
the enemy as they fly for protection to their fortified towns, the
spearmen are seen advancing in unbroken ranks, but with h
runnirig step — ^their lances being ported at a regular angle, as if
prescribed by some military manual. The fortified town being
built upon an elevation, the artist has admirably expressed the
inclined stooping position of the infantry, heavily burdened with
their loaded quivers on their shoulders, and the labouring muscu*>
lar action produced on the chariot horses, as the whole body of
assailants make a combined rush forward to storm the heights.
Every battlement and tower of the hostile city is thronged with
armed men awaiting the attack, and here, as we have before said,
ends the series of illustrations at present published. If the
French Commission had bad the good sense to give the hiero-
^lyphical inscriptions which accompany the last two illustrations,
instead of the vacant columns which they have chosen to do, we
should have been enabled to obtain a better and clearer idea of
the various fortunes of this fiercely contested battle-field and of
its results*

One inscription, which terminates the scene, however, they
have given, and this enables us to add one elucidating com*
tnentary before we conclude. The subject of that inscription
it what may be called a terminating episode in the battle on the
plain. The defeated ehief of the Robourim is represented barely
escapmg from the slaughter of the day in his chariot, in which

ISO Monummts tf Egypt and Nubia^

both his charioteer nod biA (iJ9«odtt9 warjrior are depicted as
slaio during bi»t flight. He escapes on foot to the draw-bridge
^'hich crosses the riVer to the gate of the town^ whence tbe go-
vernor or one of the chiefs conies forth, to receive him in his fligfit,
or to condole with him on his disast^er. The latter is depicted
offering to his humiliated monarch a peculiar jform of reverential
accolade or embrace^ one hand being placed on the head, and the
other on the heart. Beneatii both the word Robourim is clearly
written. Above is an inscription, which is meant to indicate the
address of the defeated chief, whether to his vassal or his warlike
associate, and which is somewhat to this effect : '' Give me
refuge, refuge from the wrath of the just Kin^."

We have now gone through the illustrations of the first two
livraisons of Champollion's work. Whatever interest may be
found to attach to the sculptured battle-pieces which the^ preserve,
they are, as we have reason to know, far inferior in interest and
in the historical information they convey to those which remain
extant on the walls of the various palaces and temples of Thebes
and ISubia. These illustrations contain but a very small . por-
tion of the great campaign of Sesostris, only equalled in ambitious
design by the march of Napoleon to Moscow, and in which be evi«
dentfy aimed at the conquest of the whole then known worlci. Bat
tbe wars of Amenoph the First against the shepherds, of Mceris,
of Memnon, Petapaop, Rameses Me-Ammon» and ' $bishak,
though not embracing so wide an extent of conquest are not
deficient in interest, and descriptions of them equally extant widi
those of Sesostris, on various monuments at Thebes and Nubia,
remain to be produced. .We need not in conclusion saj( piore
.than that we await their jproduction with .considerable anxiety
and interest. In conjunction with the civil, domestic, and com-
mercial details, to which yie adverted in our former artiple^ as
supplying materials for a history of Egypt af)d its coi^teipporary
nations, during the three hundred and forty-eight years of the
18th dynasty of kings, these military details will fill up a vast
chasm in human knowledge, and supply an authentic history of the
human race during the most critical and influential periods of its
existence; — periods as well corroborated by demonstrable chrono-
logical dates as any later period of the ancient history, of the world.
It wjll <;oipplete, SMch is our expectation, the chronojogical chain
of historical events — comprehending with adequate accuracy a
period extending from 1322 B. C. to the date of the'lst Olym-
piad, 779 B. C., with which, and not before^ aufeheiitic faistoiy could
not be permitted to conimence, previously to .the extraordinary
discovery of the £gy|>tian monuments, to which we have beeu
referring in terms of high but deserved appreciaUgya,

( l«l )

Abt. VI. — Tragedie dSi Giovanni Battnta NiccDlfaii, FlorentiDo,
(Tragedies by G. B. Nkxolioii a Fiorei)tine.) 2 vols. 8vo.
Capolago. 18d5>

At a very early period of the existence of this Revie>y, we took
occasion to introduce the living Florentine tragic poet to our
readers;* and in so doing expressed a strong persuasion that he
was capable of far better things than bis Antonio Foscarim, the
tragedy then under our consideration. That we did not judge
bim erroneously the volumes before us prove; and, although we
still fee room for great improvement, and« as we think, powers ade-
quate thereto, Niccolini has already so far justified our favourable
opinion as to entitle himself to more circumstantial notice, to more
elaborate criticism, than we then bestowed upon him. This he
might indeed claim at our hands, bad he since produced nothing
but his NabuccOt an extraordinary play, in which he has drama-
tized the fall of Napoleon, and displays far more forpe and origi-
nality than in any of his other tragedies, though we by no means
consider it as the sole, or as likely to remain even the chief, foun-
dation of his fame. But, before we dissect or discuss that or any
of his new productions, we must say a few words of the poet him-
self, whom we formerly scarcely deemed worthy of so much atten^
tion, of his general character as a dramatist, and of the causes to
which we ascribe most of his faults.

Niccolini is a noble Florentine,t and hereditarily a poet, de-
scending, by his mother, from the greatest Italian lyrist of the
17th century, the justly celebrated Fuicaja, who might alone re-
deem the Seicentisti from reprobation. He was esteemed by his
admirers, the classicists, the chief rival of Manzoni, as long as
that highly gifted writer continued to cultivate the sisters of Cas-
taTy, by whom he was so profusely favoured; and since the author
of the Conte di Carmagnofa^ Adelchi^ and / Promessi Sposi,
has, in excess of devotional zeal, abandoned the fair fields of ima-
ginative poetry, Niccolini is in Italy, we believe, unanmiously
acknowledged as his only successor. An Italian poet thus valued
by the Italian literati is neither to be lauded nor censured by
foreign critics, without good and sufficient reasons alleged; and to
do this satisfactorily we must take a rapid and general survey of
Italian Tragedy.

The drama seems to have arisen in Italy upon the revival of

classical literature, for though there were Italian mysteries, they
■ .■■■■■ — .

* See ?orelgii QuartcriT Review, Vol. II. page 868.

-f It it, perhaps^ acarccly worth mentioBing Uiat Uie name vf l^iocoSni la one of
the hUtoricaJ names of F)ureiice, and that Filicaja was einplQjfed by tbe grand dake in
the goTernmeiit of Uie country. The honour? with which he was loadea by almost all
the then riving aevereignsof Europe, inclttding the ecoeatrie Christina oi'^itien, were
pfcottCKp«i(iuaUibaU to bis poetical not to hU political fiune*.. . ^

128 Niecoliiu'i Tragtdiei.

wera km, we b6lieTe» and never tery populer | the dreftm wis caor
s^oentlj modelled upon classic originals, widiout astnitiiog a na-
tional fornix except in comedj* when the Ccmmtdu d§lt
Artf!^ appeared. This classic influence was of course most ap«
parent in the works of the earliest dramatists, but it continued
through the last century^ although gradually modified by the softer
Ausonian nature, and may be traced e? en in the operas of Metastasio.
Towards the end of the 18th century, indeed, Alfieri formed a new
and severer school of tragedy, excluding those superfetations, the
amours obtigis of the French classics, Comeille and Racine, and of
the mellifluous Metastasio ; but he thus in fact rendered Itali«i
tragedy more truly classical, vhetherhe tookhis subject from Greek
mylhologyifrom history, ancient or modern^ or even from the Bible.
Alfieri may perhaps be said to have exaggerated the severe simpli-
city of Greek tragedy with respect to plot and dramatis per9Mia,
while he rejected the pomp of poetry which, in the classic drama,
supplied the j^lace of complex incident and thrilling interest; and the
result is, if we may hazard the confession, a sense of barren cold-
ness, that tenders the perusal of his tragedies,in spite of the powerful
genius they display, a somewhat heavy task. But the striking
contrast presented by the vigour of Alfieri with the tameness, or
the tame sweetness, of his predecessors and contemporaries, awoke
vehement admiration, and has established him as the model of
most subsequent tragedians, and especially of such as, like himself,
are ardent lovers of liberty.

In this state Niccolini found the tragic theatre of his countryi
when, deeply imbued with classic lore, he devoted himself to the
worship of Melpomene. Could he draw his dramatic ideas from
other than classic sources ? Could he seek other modification or
adaptation of those classic ideas to modern notions, than thoae
offered by Alfieri ? Even the political circumstances of his times
Were calculated to confirm this classic tendency of his mind, inas*
much as he glowed, through the inconsiderate impetuosity of ado*
lescence, half-ripening to the fervid passions of early manhood,
amidst the wildest modern hallucinations of pseudo- Roman liberty,
and of Roman military glory ; being favoured and promoted, during
this last most misleadable, if not most leadable, age, by Maria
Louisa, temporary Queen of Etruria, and her successor the Prin«
cessElise, both dependents and creations, the last the sister, of the
anti-romantic Napoleon. Let us then, in considering the woriis
of our poet, their merits, and their failures, constantly bear in
mind the various but concurrent influences tinder which they have
been produced.

In theyear 18 10, Niccolini, then 124 years of age, brought forth
bis first Tragedy* It was Greek throughout — the title, Polissena,

• See For. Qa. Rev. Vol. II. page 6f •

Ihe Iltlwii fonaiof PdjxeDa \ ihe svtijeef, tbe saorifice of the royal
Trojan virgin at tlic tomb of Achilka* The character of the per-
eooagetfi and the conduct of tbe play, are sufEcieady Hellenic to
imprets ua with respect for the writer's knowledge of^and love foo
Hooker, JEschylus, and Cq.\ the only deviation from tbe sternest
claasicisai is Polyxena's invincible, involuntary, and thoroughly
concealed and controlled* though not conquered* love for Pyrrhus;
and even this modem sentimentalism is so happily managed as iit
onoe to aid the catastrophe and interest readers and audiences,
acoustomed to the strong stimulants of our own times, without
offending the Hellenic sense of the severest classicist Nicc^ni's
purity of language, sweetness and richness of poetry, and tender-
ness of feeling, have been so abundantly eulogized by all criticsi
Italian, Frendi, and German, that upon these we dwell not; oc^
cupying ourselves chiefly with what we deem higher pointe, to wit»
tbe structure and conduct of his pieces, and the development cf
characton Three more Greek tragedies were probably the fruit
of the enthusiasm that greeted Polmena\ and then our poet,
after having, at the suggestion of an English lady, Italianized ra-
ther than translated Douglas, locating tbe Scotch hero in Sicily,
betook himself, touched perhaps by tlie spirit of nationality
springing up around him, to tlie annals of his own country in
search of materials for tragedy.

But before we examine bis historic tragedies let us recollect that
Niccolini was now, and had for some time been, acknowled|[ed by
tbe classicists as their head, as the greatf the successful rival (Mf
the romantic Manzoni, and must necessarily have been chary of
risking the loss of so exalted a atatMn in the literary world* If
be felt tbe superior interest possessed by national suljects, the
richer field offered by national characters to his powers of enibo*
dying individuality, he would seek to combine these advantages
with his classic fame, by treating modern history, in the Continentel
language of the day romantic subjects, classically. Bearing
theae circumstances in mind, turn we to the Historic Tragedies
before us.

Niccolini's first irofuvmlk in Italian history was the fate of An*
tonio Foscarini. For an account and criticism of his tragedy
upoa this subject, we refer to our former number already quotei^
but must add one observatio|^, appropriate to tbe view we are now
taking. It is that this irouvaUU was one of peculiar felicity, real
treasttre*trove to a classicist, since most of the great incidents of
the slory can be represented in the play with due subservience to
unity of time, and no other sacrifice or strain of probability^
than supposing the trial and execution of Antonio Foscarini to
have taketf place, without a moment's delay, in tbe night that
succeeded the evening of his offence and capture ; that being the

1 24 NicGolui?5 Tntgedi^.

evening of the day in which the laWi constituUng the eotranoe
into a foreign envoy's garden a crime, was passed.

Antonio Foscarini has had two younger brotheis, tn^edies
founded upon Italian history. One of these* Gtovanni di Pfo^
cida, attempts a mighty subject, were it ao treated as to display
the growth and working of human passion ; the other, Lodovko
Sforza, is, to our mind, essentially undramatic« A few words
will suffice for all we have to say of the latter ; of the former, we
shall speak considerably more at length, esteeming it our Author's
best historic tragedy, and, perhaps for that very reason, a atrikii^
instance of the defects of his system*

The subject of Lodovico Sforza, though sad, perkaps even
tragic enough, if we may use the epithet in a sense so qualified as
to render it compatible with .what is to follow, appears to. ua^ as
before said^ decidedly and essentially undramatic It h, and can
be nothing but the death of the feeble Giovanni Galeazzo, and
the usurpation of his able, unprincipled uncle, Lodovico i7 Moro
(the Moor) ; an event of immense Italian importance and d^ity,
it is true, since it may be considered as the origin of the wars of
the French and Spaniards in and for Italy ; but utterly barrea of
vicissitudes. The opening scene shows us the poor youtltsuffering
under the action of a slow poison ; and his fate is se maojJleMy
inevitable that we can hardly take any interest in the exertiona of
his heroic and highly talented consort, Isabella of Aiiigon, in his
behalf. Neither is the catastrophe at all caused^ or scarcely even
precipitated, by the vacillations and credulity of the would-be
chivalrous Charles VIIL of France, whose character is however
admirably drawn, or, shall we say? touched.

The Sicilian Vespers is a subject of a very different kind^ yet,
perhaps, equally un6t for the drama, if the drama be doomed to
struggle helplessly within the trammels of the Unities. An bia*
torical play, in the Shakspearian acceptation of the tenB| assuredly
might be constructed upon it; and, in the hands of Shakspeare» or
even in those of Kit Marlowe^ what a powerfully interesting play it
would have been !* We should tliere have seen the tame §ubaiis<»
sion of the conquered Sicilians, provoked by the lawless violence,
the outrages upon female honour, the generally iusuUing and ca«
pricious tyranny, of their French masters, into asull<»n dissatiafac*
tion or a passionate indignation, offerjpg fair materials to be worked
upon by Procida; we should have seen in the hero himself the
gradual ripening of resentment for private injuries, patriotically
sympathizmg with public injuries, into the caloi^ steady, but irre-
sistible determination to avenge the wrongs of his cquntry,^o break

ii l■■■^^■■l■l 11 II > !'■ ■ ■ !■■ n,iM.i.»iin T 11^,,,

* We should not be sorr^ to see Joanna Buillie grupple with the Sicilian Vespers
di4 we think that her feminine heart could work itself into sympathy with the perpe*
tiaioM of fodi %msMi(iiet *

Niccoitni's Tragedies. 125

the oppressors' yoke, and to restore national Independence; and
we might thus have been wrought into such sympathy with the
vindictive passions of Procida and his countrymen, as even to bear
the consummation of that most awful of all acts of popular retri-
butive justice, the Sicilian Vespers, in which every Frenchman
upon the island, detected by his false enunciation of tne two word^
ceci and ciceri, was mercilessly slaughtered.

But what of all this can we have in a tragedy cramped within
the limits of the Unity of time ? The mere catastrophe wbicb^
thus unprepared, revolts us. The maturity and horrible result of
a conspiracy, the grounds of which we learn only from hearsay, as
crimes long since committed, and therefore awakening no lively
emotion; and though Niccolini has thbroughly, if not altogether
happily, identified Uie private with the great public interests, the
sorrows of his hero and heroine springing from the outrages and
oppressions that have produced the conspiracy, yet those sorrows
are not its motive cause ; and we hear so much of the remorse of the
perpetrator of the main outrage, that we feel nearly as much pity
for the penitent criminal as for the vindictive sufferer by his crimes,
A brief abstract of the story will illustrate our views.

The wife of Giovanni di Procida, after presenting him with a
son and a daughter, has been fbrcibly torn from her home by
^nberk>, gafHci Heribert, an historical character^ known as a fa-
vourite of Charles of Anjou^andas the most arrogant and licentious
among the French oppressors of the Two Sicilies. To him the
victim of his violence hasbomeason,Tancredi; and, subsequentlv
escaping from his power, she has returned to die at her husband^
feet, with the disgraceful secret, that a child of her compelled shame
exists, tremblrng upon her lips, intimated but not revealed*. Her
eldest born, Procida's son, has fallen by £riberto*s sword, in an
impotent juvenile attempt to avenge his mother ; arid Procida,
vowing retribution upon the whole nation to which the destroyer
of his wife and son belongs, has left Sicily to excite Rome, Con*
statytinople, and Aragon, against the tyrants of his native land.
To insure his safety, he has spread a report of his death ; and his
daoghter, Imelda, believes herself an orphan, independent as help-
less. Sheis wholly ignorant of her mother*^ story ; and, having been
protected from brutal outrage by Tancredi^ has repaid his service
by falling in love with the unknown stranger, who is unacquainted
with his own origin, and whom she, from his speaking good Ita-
lian, supposes to be a countryman. At the opening of the tra-
gedy they have already been so long privately married that Imelda
is a mother; and Tancredi, having recently discovered that he is
Erifoerto's son, has filially written to ask his father's consent to that
** foregone conclusion,^ his union with Imelda,

This private plot, ^1 of which, save Tancredi'r riiare^ is histo*

196 Mibooliiii*5 Tr^igediss.

ricti, may be contiderad at a fair embodying of the gmeial lDis^
ries caused by French insolence and licentiousness; but wemoit
observe upon the addition to history, so revolting to EngUsh feel-
ings, the unconscious guilt of the wedded brother and aifitcr, that
if it were needed to enhance the evils inflicted by the conquerors
jupon the conquered, we have to regret its chronological improbif
bility, to say the least. Scarcely siiteen years intervened betweea
the invasion of the Sicilies by Charles of Anjou and the SiciliaD
Vespers ; so that Tancredi could not well have completed the
age of fourteen when he is supposed to have rescued and ctpir
Tated Imelda.

But to proceed — all this being preliminary matter— the tra-
gedy itself consists of the unexpected return of Procids, bif
mterview with his fellow conspirators, their capture of Tanr
credii Imelda*s grief, terror, and confession of her marriage, tbc
interception of Eriberto's answer to his son's request, in which he
tells him that his intended bride is his ha)f-*sister, Imelda's conse-
quent determination to take the veil, her seizure by the French ns
she is embarking for a Tuscan convent, the death of Tancredi)
and a fainting fit of the widow«sister, blending with, though b; no
means causing, the first outbreak of the insurrectioOk

Having thus shown the delects inherent in the scheme of the
tragedy, consequent upon die confining such a subject within
the limits of the Unities, we turn to the more pleasing task of ex-
hibiting Niccolini's merits in execution. The following extract
from the first scene between Procida and one of his coofederstef,
is to us peculiarly pleasing by the delineation and management of
the hero s character.

'• GualtierOj entering. Procida !

Procida. Friend !

6ml. At length again embraced !

Pro. Upon thy bosom let me place my hand —
Now hear. The vengeance-consecrated day
Is this. Thy heart beats calmly. Bold in arms
I knew thee ; of a valiancy more rare
This is the test-*-approTed conspirator.
Bat speak of Naplea, whence tbou com'st^ the lot ?

Gual, Dishonour,

Pro. And the wish ?

OaaL Revenge.

Pro. And Charles?

Oual. As subjects, he oppresses, and, as strangers,
Dbdains the men of Naples. Towards the rich
Rapacious, be is cruel towards the poor ;
He lurks an unseen tvrant in bis palace,
Or thence, as savage beast from den^ prowls forth.

Pro. Saw's^tbou the fierce usurper near )

CM. 80 nsar

Ntocoltni*^ Tragedies. 187

On battle-day migfai I but find him I Little

The lurid, sidelong, flashing of his eyes

Athwart his sullen brow should then avail him !

He, truculent of aspect, ne*er io^ired

The awful majesty of terror felt

In presence of the forest's monarch j no,

But the cold shuddering with which the eerpeot.

Forth from some Templets hallowed gloom, nolooked for*

Gliding upon the day-light, chills the blood !

Pro. The day has dawned when I may trample on him—
May stand tremendous executioner
Of Heaven's high judgment on his head. — The Nobles,
May we hope aid from them ?

GuaL Habituate

To slavery, once so bitter, they are now

Unmoved by generous griefs ; he weeps, a coward,

Of yore who gloried in the name of rebel.
a • • •

Pro. Awakened with the stroke of hostile swords
Is virtue in the bosom of th' oppressed.
As from the gelid stone the fire-spark breaks.

Gval, Disclose thy plots.

Pro. Plots? None have I. A nation

Conspires not. AU| without a previous word,
All understand each other*

We need a powerful moqarcb } be the iwocd
That monarch's sceptre, ^nd the helm bis crown.
Let him our clashing wills reduce to concord.
The bleeding wounds of servile Italy
Heal, and anew create her. So that she^
Erst mistress of the world, no longer prove
The general thrall, the prey and sepulchre
Of every foreign race."

Gualtiero now goes forth to announce to his confederates the
existence, arrival, and plans of Procida. He returns to Procida
in the third act, and bis tidings are thus hailed:

*' Pro. Oh miracle of hatred ! Faithfully
A nation keeps the mighty secret ; all
Favours the vengeance that^ to make it sure,
I have thus long delayed.

Gual. The sons of France

Forget, despise, enjoy. Each warrior boasts
The glories in Byzantium that await him ;
Derides the tears of women whom, seduced.
He now deserts, and, in his vice audacious,
Reveals the injuries of the nuptial bed.

Pro. That execrated race desires alike

I*. '.Jl /

1 1

128 Nicoolin?s Tragedies^

Warfare aud lawless love^ — ^wbate'er can promise
Pleaspre and danger.

Gual, I may not, Procida, disguise my thought;
Much as in pe^ce I loathe the BVench^ do I
Upon the b&ttle-field admfrethenk. WouM
Otir ftfcTyhad 'warrior* their ^mpeers ! » m

■ /Vo. ' 0lidii)0 <li*r tuM, but pityi - and whoe'er
Shhll* further wrong the flooted thinll, ehallise V* '

We selected the folloxving apeech of Imelda's «a a 8|»eciilieQ
of Niccolini's pathos; then rejected it on account of the similiirUy
of situation with thftt of a scene in Nabucco, from wt^ipj^. we
propose • to ;inake at extract; and have finally resolved for^ that
very reason to insert it; It would be doi/n^ NiccdKhi JnjoptiQ^ to
omit this burst of pure and passtonite feeling oC lmckla^.!wiia:is
a very different character fmm Amiti* Tte Sieitiaa'wi&^aiid
daughter as yet knows nothing of the pecutiar hormr oPhieir iiaf-
riage« but has just been told by her father l^at beiMKifid'4§'lo be
the reward of him who slays Eribejrto.

*'Imel. What have I. beard! I, dau|i)ten ipother, wife,' , '"*',.
Falter and tremble, and m mine each thought , .. • .,^^ ^ ,,<
Danger and sin beholcL Vainly I qqw.. ' . ./|^ ' '' .^

In my bewildered reason counsel seek* , " ^ ^ * i'

Each patji is closed $ my husband and my faUier ' ' // ' ''

Wllr even at the altar mfeet in blood. • '^ iUjvol ,d'i

"Bctiriit ttfeir Weapons 1 shall stand— thWoff ■.'«:•" »iii<o ijniJi:-..

Immense, fi^rM^jttst, my faChev^'bilMdlst''- ' •*' ^ ^'Ui^^iUt* ;
y«tiiil»l Ttocved*6<w{fiB, and mttafiie9ctaI4t ..!' r* .itooiM ((ni ^
When bid tft #ad» another^ With«syJ>abe : i tl: vd ,h'j'j^.)K

Lfilime.setkpavdaiial-my fftiher«,m^-*t"7r "I ..'' .|'>'j[// <.>m!*v •

..Whut >?a^W'ili^h^u,>i?Jfdbed.inqjtbc»ri-TQf his ,% ^, ,:,„(. if j^^^^ .
I8*t not the granclcbild ? — Anger, i^ot affection^ .'i » i *i
His infant features might awaken. ^ ^ ♦' * ^ ' ^ '* j/n^ i i'ou
And in the terrible impending fight ' ' ' • ^ '

Where is Imelda's place I AtasJ Nor country
Nor lawfu\ vows hiis she. A guilty prayer ' . .« - •

'•Witb tf^aiMng lips to Heaven of-offieringi > ^, lUih ij'i

•AMiOfmdji4Mfcniited, and fiorloni) mute ^te . •• i , -.x.rui.-.

ifRcmn* >:Aa impious sltibCT;,^ in PrOMchJbs^s/ . :;;; . ,:.:>,.,|,i,
As in Sicilian, e'en midst strife and death, .i :

Must f he, awakep a coxViOfdAnt shudder/' .^

We could gladly go on Mding e^itract to e&tmpt fiioqi) Ubi9.t||io
gedy, which, Dotwithstanding its fbultf* ple^uies.'Mftni^uQk Ifi^ulifve
must recollect that we have still malter before u6 of QXMre'.p^QuUltf^if
not of greater, interest in Nainecoyand content buraelvwa witk.ooe

-..I I ' . - ■ . ' . ■ . ■ ■ • : .. ' ' .\ , ' . I • »

* All she knowt of the family history it that Tftficrodi'a futlier, |luber.tQ| t^ffw ber
brother, betide whose tomb the sceoe of tho firtt four acts |s laid.

Niccolini's Tragedies, ] 29

roorci which shall be from the closing scene, in illustration of
Niccolini's faults as well as of his merits.

The scene is now changed to an open space»^ adorned with
mjrtles and orange trees^ between the city walls and an extra-
mural churchy where the insurrection actually did begin. This
space is thronged with people^ awaiting some festal church-cere-
mony ; amongst them are several of the conspirators, sometimes
stimulating the crowd to rage, sometimes discussing their ptens
with each other. Suddenly another . conspiratori Alimo, rushes
iii^ when he is addressed- by one of bis party.

^ Falmieri. Say what has clianced }

Abmo. Tumoks and blood !

Pal. Then baste we—

At ibibeav I UbaUa^ who Aom Pna brougbt

TbvMiEr hiditei wtopons that iBhail give oa fr^onii,

Tboogblhcnde lo sail ; with hun a woman went

Veiled With unwi>Qledcafe» her face unseen.

The FianM prohibited their embarkation,
• • ♦

Id Tain Ubaldo strives^ in vain the few.
There present, aid bim ; all are br French numbers ' -
Oppressed ; Ubaldo falls 5 hts sailors fly, '

Bearing away th' unknown. Btit in swift barks
The French pursue, and must overtake them."

The French commander, Drovetto, now crosses the stage*
speaking contemptuously of the Sicilians; but at length yields to
the entreaties of the more cautious Sigier, whom he aIlo,M's to
search Procida's castle. When they are gone, the Sicilian poets
proceed, by the desire of the conspinttors, to stimulate the people
in songs, which the French soldiery are supposed not ta under-
stand ; Palmieri assists their eflbrts by apposite apologues $ and at
length some of the populace exclaim,

'* Were Procida alive — —
Others. Procida*8 dead.

Procida entering, Procida lives ! I'm he."

The difficulty now is to restrain the iiupatience of the roused
and encouraged people, till tlie concerted signal shall annotnice
the appointed time* . Meanwhile Drovetto returns, dragging in
Imelda.

*' Drcfoetto. Why should'st thou leave Palermo ? I no longer '
Believe that Procida is dead; ' Thas rehel,
' Hiil ra sonle nelghb'Wng island, there oontplres
Wilb^tbe'aMiorred Aragoriest,- ami thee
VaiiUy expeeis. Myr bealage thpn ranaiDeft. i

* It ynW be remembered (hat (he rel«xatioii of the unities, which nttows tiventy-ftiur
hoars in time, gives two or three streets in space.

VOL. XVII. NO. xxxin. K

13d Niccdinrtf Trogediei»

Im, Too surely Tm an orphan ; here DroTttloi
Nothing 18 left to me^ unhappy wfetch !

[Enter %ter, foUawid by French soUkre^ and Tmiatd.

Sigier. No idle fear was my mistmst ; I reached
Procida*8 c^tle, entrance was refused —
In vain 1 The iron gate and harg gave way
To French impetuosity. The castle^
The chanel I explored^ and midst the tombs
Found Tancred prisoner.

Imelda {aside). Oh God ! What hear I ?

Procida (approaching her). Thine oath !*

Sig* Aody standing opi the biQ« I saw

A dusty cloud from the near valley rise^
Bespeaking warriors i Frenchmen they are not.
For those who fled the caslle hurried to Ihem.

Procida {aside to ike coHSpifaiar$), It Is Gualtiero ; friapd^ the faour^s
^ arrived.

Dro. Haste to disperse them; then return with speed.
The flashing of French steel shall dissipate
The rabble. Thou hast disentangled now
The threads of this deep plot. This Inob is mute^
Sinking again into their ancient fear ;
I singly here suffice. [JSseimt Sigier and troops.

Tanerad, thou ton
Of a Frencn hero^ how wast thou made prisoner?
Why in that castle ?

Tan. As Imelda^s husbknd.

PeapU* Oh Heavens ! Can that be true ?

Dro, Why trembles she?

, Resentment, menace, pallor, mark thy brow !
— No, I mistake not ; Procida is here !
Thy wrongs from thy wife's father thou forgivest.
And ieek'st to shelter him from certain death.

Tancred {aside.) Thousand emotions in my bosom war.

Imel. Vainly you here seek Procida. Here were be, .
I had not fled. His silence is no oftspring
Of love or pity. Never can he be
My consort.

Tan, After such enduring love

Can'st thou desert me, cruel ? Thou, a mother ?

PaL Pure calumny! She blushes ; all know well
That he is son to Eriberto, who
So deeply injured Procida ; then think ye
Procida*8 child can be a Frenchman's wife ?

Dro. Discover which of these is Procida,
And the fair slave be thine, given or restored.

Imelda {aside.) Most generous ! He's silent.

Dro. She with me*

* He had made her swear never to reveal her marriage wilh £riber(o*a son.

Niccolini*s Tragedies^ IS I

Tan. What mean yon ?

Pro. By this blow know Procida ! [Stabs Drwetio,

Pal. And with thee die the slanderer, the liar ! iStalis Tancred.

Imel. Ob God i Hold ! hold 1 We're but too much united.

Tan. Barbarous Imelda — 'tis for thee I die~*
Give me at least — one last — last kiss of love !

Imel, I dare not — Oh I One mother gave us birth.

TofL Great God ! What do I hear!— —I die. [Dies.

Ijpei, Oh Heavens I

I*ve murdered him«— he donbted me— I faint !

[Swoons M the arms of the women^

Pn^ SUiksDBfintadBf stand ye immoveable
From honor of their fate ? A Frenchman's work
It 18, fniit of our o^lnged naptial beds.
I must not now my dawhter's miseries weep ;
My sword 1 brandish — naxk ! the sacred bell !
May I be first to shout^ I>eath to the French !
Death ! Death !

[Gtmliiero rushes in with armed men.

Oual, To arms ! To arms !

Peopk. To arms 1 To arms!"

Aad with this about the tragedy ends; so that if we knew not
from history the complete success of the Sicilian Vespers, we
should really be left iu great anxiety concerning the fate of our
friends the conspirators.

We now proceed to Nabucco, which, at least in point of
vigour, may be pronounced Signor Niccolini's master-piece. The
aubject, as before said, is of our own times; the close of that
senea of mighty vicissitudes, to the reality of which the hearts of
half the civilized world oow living have throbbed, and in which
their individual interests, ay, and those of the youth since
Jbom, wefe involved. And this is dramatized by the simple con-
trivance of nominally transplanting the recent revolutions of an
adjacent kingdom to distant climes and ages. That such is not
a legitimate use or form of the drama is, we think, a position so
aelf-evident| that to prove it were a mere work of supererogation;
and this inappropriateness might afford a sufficient explanation
of the otherwise smgular fhct, of the truth of which we have been
assured, that this powerful piece, upon a subject so universally
interesting, and by a poet of acknowledged genius, has been but
little read, and never, we believe, acted in Italy. The latter
aeeming neglect originates, however, as we learn from the same
source, in the veto of the constituted authorities, the grounds of
which are political. But to the tragedy itself.

Nabucco is| we believe, the Italian form of Nebuchadnezzar,
though whether the tragic hero, who here bears the name, be the

192 Niccolini^s Tragedies*

grazing Nebuchadnezzar moat familiar to our minds, or some
ancestor of his, we are not sure. At all events, he is an Assy-
rian usurper, and represents the Emperor Napoleon Buonaparte.
The other persons here brought before us, are Caulaincoart,
under the name of Asfene ; Carnot — the true hero of the piepe,
inasmuch as our noble author is evidently a republican at heart —
under that of Arsace ; Pope Pius V II, under that of Mitrane^ diief
of the Magi; Madame Mire, as Vasli; and Marie laouiae, as
Amiti — a somewhat more conjugal and maternal queea tbift& her
prototypci the empress, has been usually thought* The soeoe to
which our contemporaries, thus disguised, are transported, is
Babelle, which, though it looks like the tower of Babel, means
Babylon, and by which the reader need hardly be ^1d he is to
understand Paris ; but, like ourselves, be \&6uld probably take the
Babylonian palace to be die Tuileries, did not the key, prefixed
to the dramatis per%an(Z» for the benefit of those who are too
stupid to unriddle such mumming for themselves, expressly ena-
ble us to inform him that it is the Chateau de St. Cloud, brongfat
to Paris for the nonce by Harlequin's wooden sword, wefiresume.
The period of contemporaneous history dramatized is tliat inter-
vening between the battle of Leipzig and the capture of PWris;
hence we cannot but stispect that upon ikm oceasion Niec€>lini
has for once ventured to break through the shaekles of the
unity of time. Not a hint is indeed given from the fik^t scene to
the last of any lapse of months, weeks, or even days; but though
the poet could not be required to introduce the whole campaign
of 18I4« (in our private opinion the most really heroic portion of
Napoleon's career,) though we are prepared for such modifica-
tions of history as the limiting the whole of the war subsequent
to the battle of Leipzig to the defence of Paris, and finding the
defeated conqueror in the capital at the moment of its- fall,
instead of at Fontainebleau ; yet we can bavdiy suppose that
Niccolini would venture to represent the allies as marching from
the Elbe to the Seine, even under the less glaring foriki of the
Scythians, Egyptians, and Medes, advancing from the Araxes to
the Euphrates, there fighting a new battle with the rallied and
new levied troops, bribing a general (Marmont^ and finally cap-
turing the city, within three, or even twenty-four, houro qf the
tidings of the first defeat reaching the metropolitan palace.

Having thiis briefly stated the nature of the Tragedy of Na^
buccOf we will now select a few cxtraets, seeking chiefly la dis-
play Niccolini's mode of painting the remarkable personages- with
whom he has taken such seemingly unwarrantable fiberti^s. We
shall begin with part of the opening scene between Madame
Mire and the young Empress*

NiccoIiDi'5 Tragedies^ ISA

* • ■ ♦

'' AmitL Thou weepesl for thy son : I, wife and daughter.

Alike for father and for consort weep.

Thou may'st^ without remorse, implore the Godis

To grant thy son success. In me each prayer

Is guilt; I must he found a faithless wire.

Or an unfilial child.

Vasti, And unavailing

Thy prayers, thou sad one ; save thine agonies^
Nought is assured ; then weep with me wbibt fortune
Betwixt Darius and Nabucoo floats
Uncerlaiu. Either, cruel in success,
Will bid thee at bis victory rejoice,

Ami» Ob Vasti ! Tba^ a mother I wer^ uqt !
Then, since the impious war I could not hinder,
I, child of kings, should know to pierce my heart.
Perchance, ye cruel ones, over my tomb
Ye might have joined your bloody hands — at least,
. Unloosed the tie by which I kntt you, less
Yomr gvdlt if not youf baited were.

Vm, To wic .

Sueb death is dse* Enormens ia my criwc ■ "m

IbonNabncco. t • ■♦ *.

My son's the fault if be has wearied fortune

And anued all Asia. Satisfied with glory

He might have been, and empire, on that day

Which gave thee to his arn^s, angel of peace.
• « * • * *

j4mL The victory be theirs who knoti^ to pardon.
Tears* sacred rights who fcel.

Vat. What king e'er pardoned ?

if to bis ibeflf, or to NabOdon, fate

Give victory assmred, thou shall but Icarrn ■ < '

Which is nM»t guilty. ♦ . ,• . *
ODluni if foftuae smile, his boundless pride
Again will hurry him to enterprize
Blost rash; war will of triumph be the fruit.
Should victory crown the hostile kings, I see them .
Trample upon Nabucco, and seem great,
£xalted on hi$ ruin, whilst their fears.
Cautious as cruel, agonize the ettrth
With' crimes of prudence; to my son— —

Amik UMi, fatlsb! ' My fear kno«vs alU* ' ') ■■•'■ * t

Fdsw .'.'., IWaaldlAiarBd'onlyrj

, Tbe kiiigst of oarih. But • since the drenMil day n
.WhoD' great MUmiies,. prophet m<wAirQyei%d» ../

PooUiF of; Bell on whom .the eyes, of Asii^ •
And of tbe.Qods are fixed, was from the. Teinple
Torn, undefended by his tears,^is age,
Or by the altar he embraced, his God/

/ ' « »/ t . . \ I •

w' • - :• • M

134 NicGolioi*< Trugediet,

Mighty and terrible^ round the king*8 stepi
Spreads darkness, fills his heart with tumvlts wild.
And his uncertain mind with thousand furies."

We shall dismiss the ladies by showing bow Nabucco dismisses
bis high-born queen« when, upon his arrival from the field of his
defeat, she tenderly greets him.

'' Armti, My husband !

Nabucco, Hide thy grief. — Oh never, never

Nabucco's wife be seen to weep ! Assured
Is now thy glory — Vainly adverse fate
Of me may rob thee ^ thou retain'st my name i
And from my sufferings, not from the throne.
Or thy forefathers, sbalt thou honour reap.
Now to our son — ^Ibr me embrace him > shortly
111 visit him."

Our next extract shall be from the scene between the falling
monarch and the enfranchised pontiff.

" Mitranes. Why loose my fetters ? B*eft thy dungeon's peace
Dost envy me ? In full security
Tramplest thou not on altars overthrown ?
Respect the helplessness of age, oh king !
If thou disdain the prophet. My misfortunes
At least be sacred j or, if thou desire
That every crime should be Nabucco's, slay me.

Nab» Thou wouldst by death be glorified — In vain —
More lenient thou behold'st me.

Mit. Leniency

In thee forebodes but cruelty's increase.
• • * «

Nab, Wrathful old man, remembei'st thou no more ^

Thy former flatteries ? Am I not he
Whose brow by thee was with the holy oil
Anointed ?

Mit, Did I consecrate thy crimes ?
Did I bestow the sword to smite mysdf.
To smite mankind ? No, guiltily didst thou
Delude me, saying, < I have given peace
To Babylon ; she, of her impious madness
Is weary, and BeFs temple shall rebuiki/
Then Asia saw thee, citisen and general,
With steel and wisdom armed, appease disstosions
And tyrants overthrow— morals and laws;
And of innumerable uhpunished crimes
The end, she hoped. Singly could I oppose
The wish of Asia. Recollect the day
When in the Temple I awaited thee.
Imploring all the Gocls tp bless^gpiy King-«
Arrogant movest thou amidst the shrines.;

NiccoUni^j; Tragedies, IM

Th' ^nemUed priestsj the present mi^esty.

E'en of the Go«l» GDOtemning*— On the altar

Not the eteroal yolooie of tfafi law

Thou seekest, but tbe.crovm, Tbou waiteat not

Till on thy brow I .place it« with rash band

Clutebing it^ even on the holy altar.

The pious awe, beseeming well a king

Who undertakes to judge the world, in thee

I see not, but with bitter soiile thou say'st, • .

' This crown is heavy> of' a truth 'lis heavy/

And thou spok'st truth, oh king ! for on it weighed

The tears of eartb» our crimes, the wrath of Heaven,

And what Nabucco was to be.

Nab. Didst think

Nabucco other Grods owned than his sword.

And from the altar would accept bis kingdom ?
* • * * •

My warriors in thine old-wife^s tales believe not ^
I'm by their ^enpona and my gold defended,
Not by thy God ; he favours still the strong.

Mit, The just he favoars. If his eyes awhile
He should avert, or midst the clouds conceal
His face eternal. He at length unveils
His brow, and thunders 'gainst tb* exalted crimes>
Absolved by fortune."

After sending Mitranes back to bis prison, Nabueco observes :

** I cannot slay that pontiff nor revere him ;
He has been too submissive for respect.
Too firmly he resists me for contempt.*'
But'Arsaces is, as we have said, our poet's^true bero» and we
turn to a scene between him and Nabucco, after the latter has
thus contemptuously dismissed the senate.

*' Nab. Hence trembling slaves, I do not pardon you,

But scorn to punish* [TAe 4tnai€ wUkdram.

Jrsaces, Murder me tbou may'st,

But not debase.

Nab. Thou hop*st such glorious death

In vain — I with thy blood pollute mv sword 1

Ars. 'Twere for thne arm a novel enterprise. •
As yet thou hast but shed the blood of slaves.

Nab. And what art thou, Assyrian ?

An. I deserve

A different kingless eoonliy.

Nab. So i A rebel.

An, Such were I, midst thy slaves a jocund flatterer
Thou hadst beheld me, bending h»w my bead
Before the worshipped throne ; and in diy power

IJ

'. ♦ f

136 N«ocDifni*f 7^gidtrVi.

I thus might share.' Tl|<« ii9id»tiieir*iia«rf didii biffgi^- «
That made thee kiog, and that maintain thee tyrant*

Nab, Bethink th^ if this tWon}, ODwbiofatfae<fiate • * <
Of Asia hangs^ strike not rebeliioiitsftavev, • ^

Thousands of •wctopoQs waH npott my wonL

An. Tbto iviiy delay'atthiu ? • Cril lieMif^ believed lllee
Worthy to h«ar the truCbN-^Do Um duittiae n^ ' *
So gross an error.

Nab. • lie whoon tbiseavtfa'

No equal knows m«y tolerate ^y boMncas.
Say on. ■<»

Ar$. Wert tbou «iVQlgftr tyamt, hung not •..«.•!

Assyria's fate on thee, Arsaces then > " '' » ••* «r'

Could slay or scorn ihee«- I, wlio'in thy ranks
Have fought^ have seen thee general and soldier^ ' f* • ' '^-^^^
And on the battle fieM-^a gddin atiii» '^

Admired, upon tbe<thl!oiie tdifaov thee. ' ,'•/..

Nab. Of liberty what talk Vttto9«lo4be.lLiog> !^ • ^n
In me our country dweUs^ theB'^pewk of «ie^' ' - < <; ^

Ara. To thedi'ipe«lBj>dMiioeo^tb'liiiy Ibitime-'' - * '>^'
Others haveli»cdwn» Aaiafi'ilkthouaeaity'. ' )« ■' ' '^
Not thine. The test of blood 'dekigiifg^f«b o : w-x. .. i
Touches thy throne; it tbtters ; dost not Mi*\t} '^ ^ '^ •'
For us I ask not pity 3 00 tbyactf, * -^'^ «'' <'' ^

Nabuccoj hav« eompas^ion^ ' ^ ' • . ' '

Ndk '• •' Did^ pritte

My power ahoveury l^m^i w«r6 aii'peim/ '• /• ; 1
And you in chains. ' . ». . / ... •: .'^ ■•» ,, .. //

An. Tliefovfidir'thim '\fottldM'<l« - • • • '*

Of a new eropit«r'>Anil'«ilii$^'^iM)liie 'W >> >.iui;ii/i

Tbl^a0inw'tt>'<liyvfimieidai f lidew Tbeu Vt gnik ''^ * •! ^

If thou succeed; If III lb*' attempt'tkeufaUt «< '" *

Audacious. Well I kwfw that-spleiMli^ miiiB
To man yield gbify> batttot ^euaiiie fonse. •.

^06. I Qpoii>irtot6rywMildfoond<MAne<»npive, ^'

Not owe it to the charity of kicigsw • -t

Assyria, conquered, bcni^ not m her monarch • > 'i >' '
Nabucco. On this heikd iiiycfDW»tmU(t blaztf ' < : i-^ ^« ' '
With all ibe «erf»ri of its former brightness.
Or there be crushed. "Wb^refiire c^bMe np^ Aasyrit^ ,.\\^,

Her king «Bi»||tilVunw|iHik<(M«i[gi'^ 'Tbeiif '

When to this hand, tmbMd but to iwieM the swoNi,'

The sceptre she^sim^ittedi she pfoooooMd'

Her preference of iglonf Id rcipoi^. -

Is glory ever bioodlesa?' W«ild yeiioW

Return to your effeminate studies, ply

The distaff, break > 'Our wmB I Wbo my raverses

. •.'..}:

m

r. . \

I I

■i- MM

NiscoliniV Urmgidi^. . IQff

ConU QQimmri aefer dadnrtd m fortmie*.

♦ • • ♦ » ...

If I am fanqiiisbed^ to nnwarltke leadecsy < \

To yenal satraps, Asia mutt be slate*

Whom see'st tlioa od the tbrooe worthy a throne \ \

Where is tbe eiwvtt m which I have nottrampkdf'

Art, To me dost thou leeell tbe aits of kitigsr
And yileness ? To Arsaces such a crime
Royalty seems, that sovce oooM betn dlee
Forgive it, did thy wtue natdh thy vialoiir*
Batis't the sole reward of so much blood
That we may choose oar tyrant^ at^ ottrsooa
Be bom to a new yoke ? • r • f

Nab. My reign attests

That ye were fne* . />!

Ar$. Oh dinsst lot of slai«s!< • .

Slavery, to him who ha» lived free, is siiame» • .^>A

But why my wounds re-open ? I address not
The citizen, 'tis to tbe kiag I «peak-*r
To thee Assyria has giten ber crimes^
Her valour, viitae, jrighta^ and CacCline .Rich -
Art tbou through anoieot ills, rich io bee w^Mth*.. •. > *
The harvest of thQ-pa||t^.tbeiiitiure*s hopee •
Are placed in the& * * . . ^ • .. .. i

The urn of fate God to thy powerfnl ha^d^
Committed, and forsook the eartlu i Bat was*t
Guerdon or punishment I Heavens ! I>ar*st thou stake
The world's last hope.oB doubtful beUie ^ now^ <>
When in the tired Assyrian courage flags,. :m j ^ <
And fair prelextoiaroAfaQtii^ («tber>80lis
Demand of mothers, wrapti^a rooiMmipg weeds^ i ' ' u . !< *
With tear^4iflunfld ayesi? for Ki^hat>slMiild^iine(UowTbattbi?l
Cold are our altaia^orVertbrowiit the Gods c ti, „• • . i

Uncertain; slain ov pflisoners.oar aona; . .. ' • *

Not e'en their graveajitegtv«»io«iuroiHiQtiil9; - . • ' i
The ScythiaftfoowatOMiccalottrbfttre Aasyriaoa^ • ^
And our ancestral monnmopita are buried ' ^ i. - '"/ < •
Beneath the mins of our templet. Say;
What should th' Assyrian.Qow defend^ ...:./

Nab, His crimes 1

I with my dsizling glory ifill tha throne.
Hiding the blood .with whfeh by you 'twas stained.
Twill redden if IfdUaad for revciay - :. . . r

Call on your murdencd soafrei9Ei's>s«vik.lieir4. . . •

Ay, and obtain it. But with aiinds vnatable ; • . . , >.m
Ye look for pardon of' past eitee^ of new^ooeil •/ i v nl . »t
For recompense* ' .itijmj*

An, . Aloriear adr hope aremiiie.; • . ^ . ». «

His sword secures Arsaces from all kings."

' t • > ^

i>.. .1

> 1

ISA Niccoliiir^ IVoftt&s.

These extracts will we think be suffident for our purpose,
which was to exhibit the force that our poet is capable of exert-
ing, and his- mode of delineating and treating the distinguished
characters here introduced in disguise, not to attempt any thing in
the nature of a regular analysis of what we might better deuomi-
nate a series of aramatlc scenes than s^ tragedy. We must not,
however, close the volume without informing the reader of the
fate of those distinguished characters, in Assyria at leaaU And
this we will despatch in a very few words. Wbeo Park— -we b^
pardon, Babylon — is taken^ Asfene having fallen in the hcttle, a
fate which we were not awarp had bf&fallen the Doke of Vacenza,
Amiti flies to her father ; Mitranes takes Vasti with him to Reb-
lata, otherwise Rome; and Arsaces, rescuing Nabucco .from
amidst the horrors of defeat, offers to assist him to expel the
enemy, provided he will abdicate and restore the republic. They
argue the point at some length, the circumstance^ considered;
but, as we have given part of their former discussion, we shall
now ffive merely the conclusion of the argument and .of the
tragedy.

'< Nabucco, As victor I might leave my throne, subdued

I on that throne must .die. Aglorioutiife

Might still be mine, Arsaces. I behold

Twixt Asia and myself a stormy sea,

A wide o'erarching sky. The eyes of men

Shall bend, not on the mouldy palaces

Where lies concealed my foemen^s hallowed vikness,

But on the rock where I am bound ; and more

Nabucco than the Gods, thongh wkh kRe vows.

Shall be invoked. But life of what avail,

Now Chat in Mood my fktes extinguished are.

That new times dawo ? The fragments of my ruin

Must serve my foes to build with. I'm borne down

By the world's hate. Kings, I to you bequeath

The business of mine exculpation. Now,

Thou sword, long Asia's terror, give me lest

Immortal.

2^rs(ictf«. Hear nyel Hold.

Nab, Even of death

Would you rob him who was earth's lord ?

Ara, Thou fallen,

Who shall twixt men and tyrants interpose ?

Nah, Arsaces, mine example.

Ars. No, thy blood

Will swarms of tyrants breed.

Nab, Tbon hast prevailed,

Arsaces. Othei< lot I wished. Now listen.
This sword, sole relic lefl of ell my realms^ •

Niccolini'j Tragedies* 139

Take ihaa, and if a^ kinder fate pwiit
My SOD to npen Into valour, give 't bim.
Like mci if he shall know to use it, I
Bequeath him much. Let him iu fitting seasou
Revenge his father ; but ne*er condescend
To strike his foemen with this sword. My death
Do thott conceal. Amidst these palace-walls
Eaphrates winds his eoiirse> inUf earth's depths *
UeDee sioking. Be his flood niM mikiiowQ tomb !
L«i kiogs for ever treablifigiy expeet me i " .

With these words Nabucco throws himself into the Euphrates.
The allies appear as masters of his palace ; and the curtain falls.

And now we take our leave of Niccolini^ but only, we feel con-
fident, for a while. We have heard that he has another historical
tragedy forthcoming, founded upon the annab of his native
Florence, and we should look forward with pleasure to receiving
it, did we expect it to be only on a par with the best of those
before ns. But we have said, and we repeat it, we are convinced
that Signor Niccolini is capable of surpassing his present pro-*
ductions. For this he seems to us to want only courage to risk
his classicist eminence, and to break the shackjes of the unities of
time and place, especially of the first, which renders it next to
impossible to depict the workings of passion in the hunoan heart*
If he does this, we feel assured that he will yet give us such an
historical tragedy, as will deserve to be presented to our readers
10 a regular and minute analysis with copious extracts.

Art. VIL — Hktoire des Francs, par M. !e Comte de Peyronnet,
Paris, 1835. 2 vols. 8vo.

The beginnings of states are by no means the least interesting
periods of their history. In the old world those beginnings were *
generally identical with the beginnings of nations, or at least,
wrapped op in the same obscurity; but history has thrown a
clearer light upon the formation of those states which were built
upon the wreck of the western empire of Rome. The *^ barba-
rians''were themselves not altogether unenlightened; they had
known the Romans under different circumstances, and had learnt
something even of their manners and of their civilization ; and
Christianity, which was immediately and generally adopted amongst
them, brought with it learning and literature. The deeds of their
forefathers were sung amongst them in songs and ballads, unstable
monuments, which were -deeply imbued- with the romantic cbarac*
ter and ideas that must naturally have beeii peculiar to those mih.

14d Hiiiory of the franks*

whont they originated^ whilst their own were registered' in malier-
of-fact cbriMii€le»; written by the men in whose memory th^yliad
occurred. Thus are we enabled to trace, without difficulty; the
eventful period of their establishment^ the causes that gave them
strength or that rendered them weak and sickly in their coinmeoce-
ments, the principles and ma&iias which ruled and guided them.
The nearer the rite of their establishment to the head^qtiarteis of
the Roman power, and (consequently) the more enligblened the
people amongst whom they threw. tbeaudvcs, the .aofMicr tdoes
tl^eir history become authentic, particiilariy where, aa in G«uJ, tbe
eonqMTors spared die church, acid left tbe bishops, whom tliey
fo«iiid there, m the quiet possession of their sees.
- M« de Peyronnet-^tbe unfortunate ex-minister of Charles X.^
now t)ie inmate of a perpetual prison, as the reward of iiis ^services
to a fallen dynasty — has chosen a noble and fertile subject for bis
pen in the first race of the Prankish monarchs. Had he tre|ited
his theme unworthily, the position in which he is placed, and the
few j*esoiirces which he could have commanded, would have been
sufficient to disarm our criticism ; but we have no need of the
excuses 'which he urges, for we are well satisfied with bis book,
which is judiciously arranged and well written, full of just and
profound views. He has evidently studied the chroniclers with
care and in a j^ood spirit, and he has formed upon them a woik
which is full of interest.

Before we follow M. de Peyronnet, as it is our intention, hastily
through his tsvo volumes, we v^ill quote the account which he
has given of his method of treating the subject — we will give it
simply dnd without comment, because the observations that it
contains lire tbo just and too self-evident to need any.

" There is still one point," he says, " jn which I have quitted entirely
the forms consecrated by long usage. I could not persuade myself to
proceed by reigns in this history, so multifarious and complex, of the
' Merovingian ages. It armeared to me that a serious ana important
event, whose' effbeiki e^tila be uniformly spread through aH part« of
the Mpir^f «nd wliotte cniccdssive returns should have marked bdkily
a aaffioient'nmnber of inletivaiB in thia period of histeryt'wpuid.te^a
m^fie logieat.and more natntal divison J had to. find the* mwts of
nep^n^n^ collectively /and under a cQiifupon aspect, the. things ac-
cpiiiqplfsJtied At the samp tin\e in tbe three divisions of the lunpire.
For^it was th^ history of that empire which I had in view, aind byjio
means the Incomplete and mUtilated history of one of its divisions, t
could not be satisfied with making Austrasia and Burgundy subor£n!(te
to Neustria; with saierifidng to the Kinff of Paris those of Orleans and
Met2 ; widi' introduemg these latter only as strangers. Nor would it
have been more com«tifienl te tepreMnt, one sft^ another, the nlgns
of three princes living and reigning at the same epochs, and to recount

HUiorji of the Franks. ] 4 1

successively &cts which were simultaneous and contemporary. In this
meAod there would have been neither fidelity nor sinpplicity— neither
rapidity nor clearness. These considerations led me to substitute for
the simple changes of princes, which are not always events, and which
would in all cases have been but partial events, the general transforma-
tions which the political organization of France underwent.

** Thus Prance, considered collectively, as it belongs to my design,
having been perpetually subjected dtrring a long space of time to the
double tendency of reunion and partition, these tw6 accidents, altei^a*
tive and always linked togethcTi appeared to me te be of dl others
best cideulated to maintain in my composition the unity which epal4
alone, in mv (pinion, banish from it confusion. I place the actions pf
princes at the true epochs of history, and could not coos^t to take ibv
epochs the lives of princes; indolent, obscure, powejfless, where in fact
there is nothing belonging to them. They are in my subject, but ^ey
do not constitute it ; my subject is France, I do not see that Tacitus
has divided the books of his history according to the reigns of Ga1ba«
Otho, Viteffius."— Pre/

On the orthography of the aucient nances much might be said|
butjf in our present paper, we shall not depart from .that adopted
by M. de Peyronnet. In nothing has there been hitherto observed
so little of anythiug like estsublished principle. It is to be
regretted, that, even when translating from modern tongups^ or
wben wi;itiug on modern subjects, no regularity is observed. We
have seen the same person write the name of the great German
philologist in one place Dr. James Grimm> in another Dr. Jacob
Grtmjn.

The early history of nations is ever uncertain. All that we cap
assert concerning the origjn of the Franks is, that they wefo
a German tribe ^ their name is first mentioned about the middle
of the third century. Various revolutions in the iuterio^ pf
£urope had placed them on the borders of the empire. Merov6e,
the founder of the race of kings whose history is the subject of
Mi de Peyrounet's book, with his subject* fought under^ the
Roman banners. During tlie reigns of one or two of their kio^^
Gaul was overrun by these adveulurersi sometimos the enemies
of one people, sometimes of another — fighting alielnfttely against
Romonsi and Goths, and Allenians, in the character of invaders^
but not of conquerors. The reign of Chlovis^the terrible Ciilo^
vfs— was the era of conquest (486-7). At the age of fifteen be
Mfas raised to the throtie, tind five years afterwards he placed liiln*
self at the head of a numerous army, crossed the Rhine at' Co-
fogiie^ and marched directly against the Romans, who were eii-
camped at Soissons. The ttonians were conquere4i and Chlovis
founded oa their ruins the state which was one day to act suqli
an important part anioug..tbe nations of Europe..

i4ii Si^ery oftht Fttmk$.

The tribes wlio etteblsbed themseltes upon the rums of the
Roman empire were b^ no means the barbarians they are com-
monly described. Their chieftainsi who raised themselves to new
thrones, showed at once that they knew how to gpovem — thai they
were, to a certain degree, statesmen as well as heroes* Wbea the
Franks entered the Roman provinces of Gaul, the people who
already inhabited the territory were not chased from the soil, but
a share in the lands as well as in the laws, though not an equal
share, was given to them* Between tbemselves they were allowed
even to retain the laws by which they had bees prerioiisly

fovemed, bnt by the law of the conquerors the person of the
loman or Gaul was worth but half as much as that of the Frank;
a crime against the latter was repaired by a composition double of
that which was iu a similar case adjudged to the former* A simi-
lar rule exbted amongst all the Teutonic conquerors'-^in our own
island the common wergeld of a Saxon, by the, earlier law8» was
estimated at two hundred shillmgs — that of a Welshman, if he
possessed a hide of land, was but 1^ shillings, if half a hide, 80
shillings, and, if none, but sixty** The laws of the first William
made a somewhat similar distinction between the Norman and
the Saxon. Not only, however, did the Franks leave to thera
their laws and some of their property — they consented from the
first to accept the religion and church-government, and by degrees
they adopted the language, of the people they had conquered. At
the end of his reign, he who had ascended the throne a pagan was
distinguished by the title of le rot trh-chretietu In fact, Chlovts
entered Gaul not to plunder, but to rule.

Many occasions presented themselves to Cblovis of strength*
eping and extending his power; none escaped the keen policy of
the Frankish chief: like most conquerors, he was not nice in
choosing the means which he employed in obtaining his end, and
he died the monardi of a powerful and extensive kingdom. But
he left four sons, Theodoric, Chlodomir, Cbildebert, and Cblo-
taire : by the law of the Franks, all the sons must share equally
the inheritance of the father ; and the kiugd Ai of Chlovis was
thus divided into four separate states. Theodoric bad for his
share the whole of what constituted the kingdom of Austrasia —
the provinces situated between the Rhine and the Meuse, with
the districts of Auvergne, Rouerque, Querci, the Albigeois, and
the country bordering on Italy and the Gothic kingdom of Ania-
larlc. The capital of this kingdom was Metz. Chlodomir,

■••■■••■*«fca^fcMi*«M***iai^B*a^.MM.^>««a*i>«*aM«*a*«ai*iM»^a«*<i*iii*— •~^MMM>**'

* " 6ir Wiiisc moil hnbbo hyde londcs, his were bi^ hondlwdrtig Bctll. Gif he
|M>nDe healfe hebbe, eahtatig sdU. Gif he iMBrtig hsbbc, LX Kill*" Int'» Lawi.
Schmid, p. 2K *

whose efl'iNlal wtv Ofleans, hud the Orleannois, Berry^ Maibe;
Aigou, and Touraine. Cbildebert had the territories of Paris,
Melun and Chartres, with Perche, Normandy, Bretagne, Poitou,
Saintogne, and the Limousin ; his capital was Paris. Chlotaire,
whose capital was Soissons, hiri Picardy, Artois, and Flanders as
far as the Meuse and the ocean*

The influence of this law gave a distinct and peculiar character
to the history of the Franks under their first dywuty* The vace
of Cfalovis nevor raised any permanently extensive empire^ta
greatest conquerors^ who, by whatever means, had miited the
empire, were cut off in the midst of their career; the building fell
at once to pieces ; and if there came a descendant capable of
imitating his father, he had to begin again from the foundation i
the same series of murders and aggressions must be repeated
before the kingdom could be reunited. Thus there could never
be any permanent advance in improvement, and nothing can show
more clearly the badness of the system than its failure in its a|^li-
Nation in the highest possible degree. M. de Peyronnet has,
therefore, done well in dividing his history according to the two
heads of division and reunion^^for, as theceostant tendency vnuB
to union, the result was as invariably separation.

After the death of Chlovis, this tendency, at first latent, soon
manifested itself more openly, and its first advance may serve as
an example of the means by which fbe union of the Frankisk
kingdom was generally accomplished. Chlodomir, the king oT
Orleans, died at the age of thirty years, leaving three sons; they
were placed under the care of their grandmother Chlotilde> who,
herself a pious and oOble woman, seems to have governed the
kingdom of their father, during their minority, for nine years* It
•was then thai occurred the tragedy which we are going- to recite.

" Chlotilde had come to Paris. The young princes were there With
her. ChlldeVert, seieing the opportunity, sent se<!redy to Chlotaire,
repfe^nting to him the afl^tioa which their mother bore to her charge';
her perseveranoe in retaining possession of them, and in maintaininff
their rights ; the necessity that he should come qnickJy to Paris, and
that they should advise together how to disp>se of them; whetbepr
they should degrade them or put them to death ; and how they should
afterwards share their kin^^dom.

*' Chlotaire, having received this message, wasted no time in delib^
ration, but hastened to Paris. At the same time, Childebert spread
the report that their resolution was taken, and that the sons of his bro-
ther wiere to be immediately proclaimed. The people teadily gaiK
credit to the rumour, and Chlotilde herself was persuaded to beheve it.

" Matters being thus prepared, the two kings sent to her to demand
the young princes, saying, ' Let her send them, that we may raise them
t6 tbe throne.' Chlotilde, full of joy, made no resistance ; she said,

144 Bi$tcrjf of ilm FranJc^

< Jj^i ib^m gawaod if they mce^ my fioot Idiatt l^qd(.|b«t I iKve
not lost them,* .

'^ The children were brought. But^ the moment they airriyecl» they
were placed in confinejnenty and their servants separated ttiim them.
The latter were also confined, but apart from them, and in ft disttet
place. The two kings then sent a second messagd to f h^ir motber.
They chose for their mestenger Arcadhis, a senator of AmreMnev
already prov«d in odier treasons. He presented hhmelf to Oklotude,
carrying in his hand a pair of scissaraiuid a naked swoni^ * 61«^ioiis
qveen/ said he, * decide and take thy choice. Which dost thou oidaia
for the sons of the King of Orleans ? Is it thy will t^t they Mfishi
or dost thou prefer th^^ tliey he deprived of their l^ir ?** CUoMl^
was, overcome with profound grief; * Dead rather than de^adfedf
were the only words she uttered. And Arcadius, feai^ing tiiat her
magnanimity might still give way to her tenderness, hastened ii^th her
answer to the kings,

^ The]^ also hastened. The childhood and rank of thrir vietima kad
no influence over them; the guilt of fratricide stayeA not their aMibs^
tion. Chlotairei vv^ien he had heard the wonia of his mettier^ actaed
tlie elder of the ehildf en, threw him on die gvound, and killed, liina ^wiA
a atroka of hie poigniafdu The seeondi wiftieas of. the-muider xtC his
brother^ thnev himself wildly a^ the feet of Cbildehert* isoplpriqg his
aid, and f ryii^, ^ My gqod father, save me» tha^ they may not.tnsai me
as they have treated my brother!* Strange as it may seem,Chiidebert
wa^ moved, and addressing himself to his brother, * Give this one to
me/ said he, < and I will bi^ him at the price thou shrit Aic.' But
^hlotaire, blaspheming and pushing him away, cried, ' Oet ^b^ fireim
me, or thou shalt thysdf die in his place. Ai-t thou so remly tb'tvidi-
draw thyself from this enterpri^, thou, coward, by whom it wasplaaiedt
and' who hiuit drawn iiie to partake in it ?* Ohildebert:, irha was readied
to himself by these reproaches, soon had asidB his tifaoiient feeiirtg of
oompaasioii. He «hf«'w the chSd to the Kiiw of SoiBsans,.pdbo^ «rjth a
aeeood blew e£ hie dagger, accoQ^plisbed the second C3ninie.*r-TVol« i.

Such was llie first step towards the reiAiuoo of tliQ empire of
Cfabvia ; the kmgdom of Orleaiai waa parted between Cbloteii^
and Childebert. The death of Theodoric, somewhat later, offered
anollier bfut to tlieir ambilioa; but their designs were fruftented
by the abilities of his son, the young Theodebert. Theodabert's
efforts were tlimed against another quarter. Italy and the weatem
provbces of the Greek empire esepbyed his arms, aud his power
a»d reputation protecled him from the treasons of his laouly«
But suddenly he died; his son Theodebald died booh efter him;
Ii|ie kkipdomi which should have been. shared between ibe Iwa
remainmg brothers, was seized by Chlotaire ; Childebent aonght

* Long flowing liair was among the Franks the nisrk of, and the claim to^ royalty.

Hhiof^ of iht Fratiki l45

also died; the revolt was quellecL and Chlqtaire becatiie sole Jiin^
of. tbe AWftliea empire of the rrank^.. ,

6«udyi()ft ettabiifiii^.;^ tbatp^^ lmAej^l}<^^,6oif,.,>Tbqi,|i>y,lJM5,ori^^^
qSWHb fiither^.%ttB(bunift>with.Jhid^vifeiMid,€lHlAr«^iiit»/b^| ytMCC^*
tlieyllM sought raffagcti' • Tbeifem^-bvolbem jiftdir/tMiofi^afiic^tpre**.
9Mtotf (H^P/^tici^eased tbeir t^n^otlf 'by'ag^l|>resU6]»iiif^
n«jMi«c)fai^--^tfe Yeij^n bf Chtettti^fcf 'h«d bfe^ir 'lorig tfttd-jiroJ
stJ^drs;^j>ni a't his death th^ Wti^dom' of th<!^ Franks ivas'=tttbrfe
exi^ii^ip^^^ thari.it h^d'beetl eve^ (ltid^^;Cll!6-

dismembered. " ,., ,^ ',j, ,,j ^;^ .,^

giikhedpliteroH (1m^ Qtbei^^ >y its{.<:«ii4^, ji^l<,Hi,vMii9.(lu9fmQ^
deopv^vsrhbey arbae eta* of aiiilM&'iiiipItiQftbtojaMi^nTHthfl'^naoiitjr:
aM^icnMOsy'tdlf *twO'0NlfaiifdbMy.'v^^ . TbetkuftiieticeibF.tlM
y^Amr^ ^"tiiHoii^ -the TeUtofiki Iribas oftra^faw^ rfibd oto>^pi««r

tH'i^ AffiM'ttf-^ae Nibelin^n' *y \he » jetiloasy ^i)f fiWrthrfd-^
Ctt|wmWl^we of theTraAish qiieeiis; Svhdi^i^ 8t6ry\^'^i«
^)^g tc^/^Ik^^pr.^, I^e same ipme as. one or the. ber6ifi6S of ine
S4*lHWS*.X>e4 )i»Mt w^^ o^;t|iat'faiiiilj: wfere nothft^

iOfjfSQimpi^liAfaff of ^^ th«ei.I\rar^k^ w^^rojijiyfid.^y.tl^j?.

rjvdbrjDiqfcjBrumbaiiU' Ii0d.p4fecl«§^^^ .. . •. :; u r-ii ii.-. c /i i

It Vii0«m •fvCMolabfle Wefe CkuhMr G<uri^w»y;Ciiil^ne/AlMl
dfgffMvtJ '<j0ffrihe'deaAi^f' bib ifaoberp Ckdigmci'Siiix^ hybdatce^
th^^ktbgijlMn^bri^^^ eoivdtaili bntih^yfu

bi^sl^ed iW Ihe'^^^^t)^ 'by^l^^ bfOth!frs;>)ia«(^ illMte i4K>mti^lkl^^t^
accept the lot which fell to his share — it was Soissons. Churi-t
bttPU$llt^¥fit^;'G<MM$infOxi^mis^ and ^igebcct, Metsw^ Gbcri-
f>ePt>b«!cfB>diedt *aod liis kingdom wo^ divided omoBgal'tbe oth^r)
tbMetti ,' •' ... • • .'..... /'^ •"«•:' :-r. ''■

>'iDiii|])eric only concealed Us reiepteiiantagainHt^ltii brathere am
loilg.^4i^b<rihiid n<^ opportikiiitf »f induIgiDg itJ • While <Sigfsberti
^fa9i«ngtigtld'wit)|'the Ogln»,a Tafteu tribev^^hbihid^readiedrbis.
ffOttCitt|*sr l^oHn tbe ffiast/Chilfilevic inToflod hisloiligA^tiii rhakthe,
0^mw\vtivk defented; Sigiibert returned in Jiasfei ndpnllfdi tht-
altdoipt^l Ms' b^otheii, add woiild have eaiiitil the uwr.ililo thti
kmgdMtf of Sw!to6ui>faadnot p^aoe'beddiesltiblbbbd bgr Ai^atrfied*
imteifafeiioat.*' ' ' > '" ' ^ .-' /•,..;*'•••.' X''. :»;?' "

At thia period, the king of tbe Wisigotbs was Atbanagildj a rich
and .povferfut .pWCQ^ wbo Iiad.two d^ughters^ Galsuinthe and
Brunebault* Her coteinporary, Gregory of ll^ours^ gives us a
VOL. XVII. NO. xxxiii. ^

146 History of the Frankt

high notion of the beautji wisdom^ and pmdeoce^ of the hitter ;
she was sought in marriage by Sigebert| and the nuptials were
celebrated with great magnificence*

** Chilperic took umbrage at this union. He discovered all the eon-
sequences, and foresaw clearly that the ascendancy of his brother woitld
be increased by it. Unwilling to yield him this advantage, and muMe
to demive him of it, he tried to render it harmless by balaDcing it.

** AH the passions of this prince were rash ; his affections aa well as
his ambition. He bad passionately loved Audovere, an obacuro and
simple maiden, but mild and good, chaste and pious. He had married
her, and she was queen. This union was troubled, and yet fruitful.
Audovere had had three sons ; Theodebert, Chlovis, and Merovee. At
length she had Childesinde.

<* Chilperic, detained on the other side of the Rhine, was not present
at this birth. When the day of baptism arrived, the absence of the
god-mother, who was too late, caused an unexpected alarm and embar-
rassment. Among the women who attended upon the qocen, there was
one, the fatal splendour of whose beauty and wit had ahresidy gained
the favour and love of the king. This woman was Fredcgonde; and
from this day commenced the terrible chain of her artifices and htr
furies. The occasion* which seemed by no means favourable^ became so
by her boldness and address. She conceived the hope of persuading
Audovere herself to present her daughter at the font, and, what was
still stranger, of obtaining the consent of the bishop who celebrated the
baptism. She dared — and she succeeded. Soon the king retumed«
and she hastened before him, to finish the plot which she had woven so
wickedly and so boldly. * There is no longer a queen,' she mad to him,
* and thon art free.' And she erred not far from the truths For
Audovere, by her imprudent credulity, had just established a religious
afBnity between herself and the king, and, by the canonical law, the
force of this new tie was such, that, in creating a nearer projumity, it
had caused every other proximity to become criminal. The resuk was
such as Fredegonde had expected. Chilperic, whom a blind love inte-
rested in the treason, seized the pretext with eagerness, and repudiated
Audovere. He sent her to an abbey at Mans, where she was doomed
to await the day of the other misfortunes which were reserved for
her."— vol. i. p. 229.

Just at this period occurred the marriage of Sigebert with
Brunehault. A sudden project entered the mind of Chilperic; he
sent his ambassador to the king of the Wisigoths to demand the
hand of his other daughter, Galsuinthe; the alliance was accepted,
though reluctantly; the sister of Brunehault became queen of
SoissonSy and for a while Fredegonde was neglected. But she
soon regained her influence over the king. Galsuinthe was first
neglected, and afterwards secretly murdered by the orders of her
husband, and Fredegonde herself, who had hitherto been but con-
cubine^ became queen.

Hisiaty of the Franks^ 147

The infiimouft Conduct of Chiiperic created a just and general
feeling of horror ; with Brunehault, the sister of the murdered
queen, vfko in her affectionate solicitude had counselled her
ta mount a throne which had been so fatal to her, the first feeling
of astonishment and grief was succeeded by the bitter implacable
deaire of revenge. She excited her husband Sigebert to attack
the mafderer ; she persuaded Gontran to join him; the kingdom
of Soissons was invaded, and Chiiperic was reduced to the last
extremity of despair, when the anger of the King of Orleans was
appeased : he made himself the mediator between his brothers,
and saved Chiiperic and Fredegoude from the wrath of the (j^ueen
of Austrasia, who, however, gained by the war the five cities of
Beam and Aquitaine, which had been the dower of Galsuinthe.
The hostilities between Sigebert and Chiiperic were scarcely
ended, when an accidental misunderstanding excited war between
Sigebert and Gontran; and the King of Soissons, thinking the
occasion fkvourable for revenging his recent disgrace, invaded the
territoi^ of the former. But his expectations were disappointed;
Gontran again joined Sigebert, and, after several changes of for-
tune, Chiiperic, deserted by his own army and subjects, shut up
with Fredegonde in Toumai, was on the point of falling into the
hands of his enemy. A new treason changed his fortune ; Sige-
bert fell in his own tent by the hand of an assassin; the murderer
bad been sent by Fredegonde.

The success of their treasons raised high hopes in the minds of
Chiiperic and Fredegonde; to save their own kingdom was not
enough, they resolved to add to it that of their enemy. Every
thing seemed to favour their enterprise. The army of Sigebert
disbanded itself, the nobles of the kingdom of Soissons returned
to their allegiance, most of those of Austrasia suffered themselves
to be easily seduced to concur in the designs of Chiiperic ; that
part of Paris which belonged to Sigebert was compelled to sub-
mit to him, and, what was still more important, he captured there
Brunehault and her infant son, Childebert, the sole heir of the
kingdom of his father. The fortune of Fredegonde prevailed
everywhere. But the scene again changed; and the prospects of
Chiiperic fell not less rapidly than they had risen. Among those
nobles of the kingdom of Austrasia who still adhered to the family
of Sigebert, was Gondebaud, who formed a sudden and bold
project; having corrupted or deceived the guards of the prison
in which Childebert was confined, he succeeded in carrying the
child t# Metz, where he was received with unbounded demon-
strations of joy« The enthusiasm of the people of Austrasia was
universal; the nobles Who had sworn fidelity to Chiiperic turned
again and joined in their vows of devotion to the son of Sigebert;

148 History of the Franks*

and the designs of the former upon his iungdom were enttf^ly
overthrown.

Astonished and mortified- by the escape of his capAve, Qui*
peric resolved to send the mother to a securer place of confine-
ment. Brunehault was accordingly carried to Rouen, but heie a
new perplexity was reserved for her enemy. Merov^e, the aon
of Chilperic by Audovere, foresaw that the ambition of Frede-
gonde would one day endanger the life of himself and his brothers,
and his presentiments not less than his hatred drove him to seize
the first occasion which might hold out hopes of safety atid re>
▼enge. He came to Paris, and saw Brunehault ; his heart was
moved by her misfortunes and captivated by her besuty, and he
aspired to her hand. Brunehault at once saw the good fortune
which was thrown in her way. Merov6e suddenly- repaired to
Tours; the bishop, Pretextat, who had always regarded the
young prince with affectionate fondness, immediately oelebnited
the nuptials ; and Brunehault became the daughter of her enemy
*~the crown of Fredegonde was promised to heri But Chil-
peric, mad with rage and disappointment, arrived suddenly at
Kouen. Brunehault and Merov^e, unprepared, had not time to
escape; they sought asylum in the church of St* Martin, and only
left it on a solemn promise by Chilperic that they should not be
separated. Their plans, though deeply laid, were entirely dis-
concerted by the vigour of their enemies, and Brunehault was
again a captive, when a new ttini of affairs came to effect her
ideliverance. Austrasia, bold by the recovery of its king, though
an infant— bold, too, by the friendship of his uncle Gontran — de-
manded also his mother and his sisters ; the alternative was >var,
and Chilperic, unequal to a contest with the two kings, was
obliged to submit. Brunehault and her daughters returned to
Metz, but the regency who governed during the minority of her
son, prospectively jealous of the influence she might recover^ forr
bade Merov6e to enter the kingdom. The sight of their injured
queen raised still more the enthusiasm of the Austrasians ; the cry
for vengeance was universal, and Chilperic, thinking to forestall
the danger which threatened him, invaded their territory, but he
was driven away with disgrace, and, in his weakness, sought to
gratify his rage in the degradation of his son, whom he doomed
to pass the rest of his days in a monastery. Merov6e fled . from
his prison, was betrayed, and, barbarously murdered, became
another victim to the insatiable fury of Fredegonde. But he was
not'the only victim she sought; Pretextat, the bishop of Clouen,
wais marked for an object of her vengeance; he was dragged
before a tribunal, but the inflexible courage and virtue of Gregory
of Tours, the historian of those times, saved him, and he was only

SRUory of the Franh. 149

half roondemofid/ The fury of Fredegonde was ill satisfied.
Gregory himself was accused, but the hatred which had dared to
caB him .to be judged dared not to condemu him; the Church
hMily'tii those days, power enough to throw over him a shield
which the rage of' a king could not penetrate. That power waa
a Messing which God bestowed upon the middle ages — >where
everything would have been darkness, and bloodshed, and dis-
order, that alone guarded and perpetuated order, and justice^ and
li^. Among the Pranks, the noble virtue of their clergy often
affords a glonons contrast to the savage barbarity of their princes*
Misfortunes were also reserved for Fredegonde. A contagious
disease, which spread devastation over the kingdom, carried oiF
all} her sons; the only affections which perhaps she possessed
were blasted. But her grief, far from bending her vindictifve
spirit, served but to add fresh fuel to her fiiry, to furnish new pr&*
fences for gratifying her cruelty. Chlovis, the last of the. sons of
Chilperic and Audovere, was sacrificed, and, as was ever the case,
his blood flowed along with that of his frieiads and servants.

' " It misht have been supposed that the queen was at length satiated
with inurders. She was not! Her provident and indefatigable ha*
trod awaited, before reposing itself, the death of her last enemy*
Audovere bad not yet sunk nnder her lone griefs. The mother of
Chlovis and of Merovee doubdess nourished some hope of avenging
herself and her children. Who conld engage that fortuae wqu14 not
one day give hex the power? Fredegonde sacrificed this other victim
to her own safety 3 she despatched messengers into the district of Maine,
who caused the gates of tne monastery to which Audovere had retired
to be opened to them, and put, her to death. And they did more;
another crime, greater perhaps and more detestable, followed. Chil-
desinde,' the* daughter of Audovere, was shut up in the same plaice
with her mother. Too young to be guilty of plots whidi might have
justified her death, slie was young enough to excite some day the love
or the ambition of Ohildebert perhaps, or of some otlier jprince, whom
she would doubtless excite to revenge the .wrongs of her family.
How- was diis fear satisfied, or how. are we to tellitl Our readers
will remember the daughters of Sejanus ; Fredegonde imitated Tibe-
rius. . Childesinde was not put to death, she was only deprived of the
life of the world; her enemies were satisfied with consecrating her to
the service of religion. But she was first violated by the executioners
of her mother. She was permitted to live, but stained. And this
horrible precaution was talcen against those who might have had the
idea of deliveriijtg her from her cloister and of associating her with
their fortuAe. The daughter of Chilperic suffered this ontrage during
die life of her fatHer ; she suffered it by the order of the wife of Ghil-
perio i * Fredegonde seised all the riches of Audovere and CJuldesiude.
Greedy of the blood of her enemies, she did not disdain their spoils."
—vol. i^ p, 33«.

15D SRawy of ih Franks^

. Long civil wars agitated the kingdoms of the Franks* Austrasia
itself was torn by internal dissensions, which were mAy in part
appeased by the exertions and wisdom of Brunehault. In die
midst of these contentions, Fredegonde gave birth successively te
two sons, Tbeodoric and Chlotaire. The first lived but a year,
and his death was made the pretext for the murder of Miimmo*
lus, one of the oldest of Chilperic's servants, but whose services
had not saved him from the hatred of the queen. Another omif-
der followed — it was that of Chiiperic, the manner and the cause
and the author of whose death are equally uncertain, though
rumour laid it also to the charge of Freaegonde.

The death of Chilperic threw every thing into confusion.
The nobles of Neustria took different parties — some would have
introduced Childebert — some were faithful to Chlotaire» the son
of Chilperic and Fredegonde — others attempted to raise to the
throne a stranger, Oondovald, who claimed a place among the
family of the Merovings» Fredegonde at first fied with her
child to Paris, where she sought sanctuary in the cathedral, and
was supported by the bishop. She then adopted, as the safest
resolution, that of demanding for herself and her son the protec-
tion of Gontran. He accepted her proposal, suddenly entered
Paris with his army, and overthrew the designs of Childebert.
Fierce enmities followed between the kings of Burgundy and
Austrasia, which however gradually subsided, as mistrust arose
between the former and Fredegonde. Gontran received into his
favour Pretextat, who had returned from his temporary exile to
be restored to bis see; he sought the bodies of the young princes,
Chlovis and Merov^e, and gave them an honourable sepulchre;
he took from Fredegonde the care of her son, and gave him tutors
of his own choice, to whom also he entrusted the regency of
Neustria. These were all grave^oifences in the eyes of the queen.
What is more, he obliged her to quit Paris, and the domain of
Rueil, in the territory of Rouen, was assigned for her residence.
Here she prepared new plots and new murders. Her first im-
pulse was to join the party of Gondovald, but she was too late,
and she laid aside her immediate hopes of regaining power, to
meditate solely the indulgence of her revenge. One assassin,
hired by her, sought the presence of Brunehault, but ber pru-
dence and vigilance frustrated his design ; he was discovered, and
sent back to Fredegonde, who wreaked upon him her rage at the
ill success of his enterprise. Others sought the life of Childe-
bert, but chance discovered their errand, and they sufi^ered an
ignominious death. A similar attempt against Gontran was
equally unsuccessful. The first successes of Gondovald drew
closer the ties of friendship, ever fluctuating, between Gontran

History of the Franks ^ 1 5 1

and Ckildebert, whom be solemnly adopted as his successor — the
hatred of Fredegonde to both tended for a time to perpetuate it.

Meanwhile new murders stained the guilty hand of Frede-
gonde:—

** She bad quitted Ruei], and was come to Rouen* There a bitter
and violent altercation arose between her and the bishop. * There
will eome a time/ she said to him, * when thou shalt return to thine
exile.' — * Be I in exile or free,' replied Pretextat, * I shall not ceaae
to be bishop. But for thee, there will come a day when thou shalt
have eeasea to be queen. We, with God's aid, shall be raised from
exile to a heavenly kingdom; thou, by his justice, shalt fall from thy
earthly kingdom to the bottom of the abyss. Hadst thou repented,
and stripped thyself of the pride which ferments in thee, perhaps thou
mightst have obtained the recoropence of the saints; and mightst
have conducted to the age of manhood the son to whom thou hast
given birth.' These words, which covered Fredegonde with confu-
sion, completed at the same time the fulness of her hatred.

'< The festival of Easter arrived* Pretextat, early in the morning,
had gone to the cathedral, to perform the service. Whilst be was
chanting the psalms, seated in his chair, an assassin glided unper-
ceived to the spot, and struck him with his knife under the arm. The
bishop raised a sudden cry ; the astonished dercs hesitated ; the
assassin, profiting by their amazement, fled. Bleeding, dying, and
scarcely breathing, the bishop nevertheless crept to the altar, and
offered to God, with an affecting resignation, the sacrifice of his life.

" His servants quickly rushed to the spot, and he was carried to
the episcopal residence. Fredegonde dared to come thither ; Beppo-
lene and Ansovald were with her. * Our grief is profound,' saia she
to the bishop. * We regret bitterly, along with thy people, this detes*
table profanation. May God make known to us the perpetrator, that
we may have at least the consolation of inflicting upon him the punish-
ment due to his crime !' But the bishop, who was not deceived by
this audacious hypocrisy, said to her : ' Yea ! who has committed it,
this criminal action, but she who has so oAen shed the blood of the
innocent, and who has not even spared that of kings V — ^ Thy wound
is not desperate,' said Fredegonde, interrupting him, ' trust to the
skill of the physicians we will send thee.' — ' God calls me to him,*
continued Pretextat. * Thou, with whom have originated all these
crimes, thou shalt be accursed for ever, and thou shalt pay to God the
price of my blood.'

^* The consternation at Rouen was universal. Leudovald, the
bishop of Bayeux, ordained that all the churches should be closed,
and aivine service suspended, until such time as the authors of the
crime should have been discovered. Some individuals were arrested ;
they unanimously accused Fredegonde. But the zeal of Leudovald
placed him also m peril. Assassins were sent against him, fortunately
without success.

*' The chiefs of the Franks were not less irritated than the clergy.

1 52 Hutory of the FtdnJu*

One of them went to Fredegotide, and said to her^i'^.ThoU' badat
already committed many crimes, but this exceeds them all* Abf Cod
reyenge quickly the blood of his pfiestl We will eagerly pi|caut.lbe
cfaaatisement of this murder« lor it is time to put an eod. to thy oniiel-
ties.' Having said these words, he <iultted her prejsence. and was
leaving the palace. But Fredegonde, afiecpng great iodiTOr^nce for
his reproaches and for his threats, sent af^er him, and invited lum to
her table. The chief refused. The queen sent again, begging more
jn-essinsly that at least he wouM not leave the rovai residence wkbout
naving drunk of her cup. This time he allowea himself to be per-
suaded, and yielded. Immediately was brought a cop full of a snxed
beverage, afler the Prankish manner, of wine and wormwood and
honey. Scarcely had he finished the draught, when he was seMd by
excruciating pains. Perceiving that he had drunk poiton, he •cried to
those who accompanied him, * Fly, and let not your lips tooch this
drink. They have poured' death into the eup.' They fled; himaelf,
remounting his horse with difficulty, tried to follow, but at a diort
distance he fell: he was lifeless." — vol. i. p. 44£*— 444*

Gontran^ on receiving the inteHigence of this event, was furi-
ous— he. was eager to pursue the murderer^ and to avenge this
sacrilegious deed-^he summoned a council of bishops to examine
into it« But new jealousies and new plots arose, wb^h frustrated
his designs, rendered Fredegonde the close associate of the go-
vernors of Chlotaire, and restored her to all her Ibmer influence
in the kingdom of Soissons.

Gontran and Childebert remained feitbftil to each other; and
Brunehault^ who, during the minomy of her son, had been ei-
chided from power by the nobles, recovered her ancient influence
in ^ustrasia. The nobles, who were jealous of her and faithless
.to their king, regretting perhaps the loss of the power wbich they
had held during the regency, laid deep plots. Their object >vas
•nothing lessithan the overthrow of (be throne of Childebert: they
were excked and supported by Fredegonde. But a brief period
saw all their des^pit exposed and defeated, and they paid for their
treason with their lives. The treaty was subscribed by Gontran,
which gave the succession of his crown to Childebert and his
800S. ^n unexpected event followed — Soissons revolted from
Fredegonde, and with Melun, which had set it the example,
formed an independent atate,. which received for its king Tbeode-
berti one of Gbildebert's sons. Childebert was at war with the
Lombards of ltaly«**^«nd, which redounds to the praise of Biu-
nehftuU; when the war was ended, she bought with her .own trea-
sure the captive Lombards, and sent tliem home free. Then
broke out a war between Gonirau and the Bretona^ whom Fre-
degonde excited against him. Two new attenipta to murder the
kings of Austrasia and Burgundy failed, and Fredegonde wreaked

Hutary of the Frank$. 1 53

lier fury upon hier: own blood — the victim was her daugliter
Rigonlhey who died by the hands of her mother. But 'an acci-
dent, which happened soon afterwards, nearly drew upon that
mother the prniishment of her manifold crimes. Bitter animo-
sities had arisen' at Toiirhai between the Franks and the original
inhabitants, and the two opposing parties fought in the streets of
the town.

* ^* Fredegonde came, thinldng to appease them by her authority or
by her counsels. She was mistaken, and hex pride was olfenaed.
Immediately conceiving new designs, what she had not been able to
effect by £iir words she resolved to attempt by violence. She. invited
all the chief people of Tournai to a great feast. At their head were
the chiefs of the two families whose quarrel bad caused the disturb-
ance^ namely, Charivald, Leudovald, and Waldin.. These tlicee were
placed together on the same bench. On the approach of ni^t, as
was the custom among the Franksi the tables were withdrawn; but
the guests still retained their places, and continued to drink the wine
which was brought to them in profusion. Soon heaviness came upon
them, and the servants themselves, overcome with drunkenness, fell
on the pavement asleep. Then entered three men, armed each with an
axe, whom Fredegonde had sent. They glided, without oi^sltion,
behind the three diieft, and, striking at the same momenit slew them
as it were by a single blow.

*^ The trouble was great, the alarm general; every one fled. But
that which Fredegonde had not foreseen happened. The irritation of
the townspeople, already so gre;it, took in an instant new activity and
new violence. Iliey arose, flew to arms, seized the gates, and the
queen was a prisoner. At the same time they sent to Childebert;
they resqlvea to deliver to him bis enemy ; they desired him to order
her death. She, on the other hand, neglecting no means of safety' in
this extremity, nastened secret messengers to Champagne, 'ordermg
the people to cdme to hier aid. The people of Champagne obeyed,
and their promptitude was snch, that tney arrived at Tournai before
the army of Ghildebert. Thus Fredegonde was deUva^ed, and thns
was lost Ibv her enemies the most favourable oppnrtumily for ven-
geance."— vol. 1. p. 486.

Soon after this, Gontran died, and his death was thesigoal for
new troubles and new contentions. The kingdoms of the Franks
were liastening towards reunion •

' But die first direct attempt at this renoion was net made by
the party who carried it into execution. Childebert^ unopposed,
succeeded to the kingdom of his uncle, and now, master of two
kingdom^, he resolved to attacl^ the third, and to take eJceniplflry
vengeance for the long series of crimes and violences of Frede-
gonde, which afforded a sufficient pretext for the war. His anby
ravaged Champagne, and approached Soissons. Fredegonde,
however, proved herself equal to die danger: sheassetnbM tiie

1 54 JSilofy of the Frdnks.

army of Nenstria, showed to the soldiers their young king, en-
couraged them by her words and by her example, and led them
suddenly and by night against the camp of the enemy, who ¥ras
surprised and defeated. In the day, the enemy returned; another
battle was fought, longer and more obstinate than die former,
but Fredegonde again triumphed. Her own loss was immeBse,
but the throne of Chlotaire was saved, and the army returned
victorious to Soissons. Yet, though successful in - one instance,
and for a time, the power of Fredegonde was not equal to the
struggle against Neustria and Burgundy united, and she strove to
rid herself of her enemy by her accustomed arts. ChiMebert,
having got rid of his other enemies, was on the point of renew-
ing his attack upon Neustria, when he and his queen suddenly
died — their death was attributed to poison, and common report
laid the crime to the charge of Fredegonde.

The successors of Childebert were his two sons — ^Theodebert
had Austrasia, and Theodoric, Burgundy. Brunefaault, the
* guardian of both, governed with an equal authority in both king«
doms. The occasion was favourable for Fredegonde ; she raised
an army, and prepared to attack her enemies. Brunehault was
equally active, but an obstinate and bldody engagement ended in
the success of the former. The loss in the armv of Brunehault
was immense. Yet Fredegonde reaped not the fruits of her vic-
tory— she suddenly fell ill and died.

« It was a day of expiation and deliverance. The human race was
relieved from an immense opprobrium. We must despair of finding
colours warm and vigorous enough to describe this fearful figure of a
queen — every passion, every vice, every fury ; all the cunning which
crime can demand, all the crimes which ambition can solieit, all the
ambition which the most unbounded perversity can coaceive."— >
vol* ii. p. HO*

Brunehault was delivered from her enemy. She was at the
.height of her prosperity. She reduced to quietness die barba-
rous nations who surrounded her own — ^she formed treaties with
distant states. It was by her mediation that Christianit]r was
introduced among the Saxons in Great Britain. But the facticm
which Fredegonde had excited in Austrasia still existed, and with
it all its virulence and hatred. For a time Brunehault triumphed
over it. Yet the spirit of the queen was too haughty to^ conci-
liate; the factious nobles by degrees gained the ears of their
young king, and Brunehault was obliged to Ay into Burgundy.
It might have been expected that she would have sought rei«nge
in arming Theodoric against his brother. No: though' her in*
juries were here great, she had still a bitterer enen^-^the hatred
of Fredegonde lived in Ibe person of Chlotasre. The policy of

Brunebwlt united again the prms of Austrasia and Burgundy in
an.attapk upon ChlpUtire* He was prepared for the war, and
evan sQiight the combat; but, in the sanguinary battle ojf Dor-
melle^ fought in the first year of the seventh century, bis army
was destroyed, and he was obliged to accept a disgraceful peace.
Another battle, four years later, equally fatal to Chlotaire in its
inwydiatft results, was the first occasion of disagreement between
the t>99 iK«s of Childebert* Theodorie believed himself to be
betrayed by his brother^ who bad entered into alliance witli the
King of Neustria; h^ raised an army to attack him, and wa^
encouraged by Brunehault^ But in Burgundy there were also
violent jealousies; the hearts of the soldiers were not engaged in
this war, and their rebellious conduct obliged him to make peace
with Theodebert. The latter, repkoniug too much on the weak-
ness of the King of Burgundy, commenced the war, and by a
base deceit succeeded in entrapping his brother, and in wresting
frojBi him important concessions. Theodorie hastened to revenge
himself; in several engagements Theodebert was defeated, his
armies were destroyed, and at length he was himself taken and
put to death. His infant son experienced a similar fate. Theo-
d.oric became King of Austrasia as well as of Burgundy.

A terrible struggle approached between Theodorie and Chlo-
taire. But Providence suddenly changed the face of affairs —
the former was seized by a dysentery and died, and his army dis*^
banded itself. The result may be told in a few words. Brune-
baiiU, aged, yet still haugh|;y and proud, made a resolute but vain
attempt to secure the kingdoms of Burgundy and Austrasia
to the descendants of Theodorie, though illegitimate. She acted
with promptituda and skill; but Chlotaire bad a powerful army
in the field. Brunebanlt was deserted by the people for whom
she fought; her army left her in the hour of combat; two of the
sQf^ of Theodorie were murdered; Brunehault fled, but was be-
traiyed, and fell into the hands of her eneipy* We will not de-
scribe the horribly degradations and violences which she suffered.
The a|^ queen was brought forth like a malefactor for judg-
OMOt* and waa put to death after having endured all the tor-
ments which savage barbarity could invent* The kingdom of
the Franks was united in the person of Chlotaire.

The history of the first race of the Frankish kings presents to
US tbroughoiit a vivid picture of the eviU of the Salic law — of
tbnl system which was distinguished by tbn absence of th^ rights
of primpgeoiiure, Bui the cure of the evil also arose among
the institutions of the FranM, The office of mayor of the palace
waa originally one which was filled by the cho^e of the king, but
after the d^alb of CUotaire, the blood ^f Merov4^ be(;a«ie 4^-

156 Wxtcfjf of the Ranks.

based; unioii and, reunion followed eack other id quick ancces-
sioii; and| by the ambition and firmness of the mayors of the
palace, aided by the weakness of the ooonarcbs, their oflSor waj
made hereditary. Such an offioe, it is clear^ could tiot 1>e divided,
and in this case, at least, the right of primogenitwie came in natu-
rally and necessarily. As the weakness of the kings constandj
incKBsed, the powers of the mm>rs of the palace incrensed also;
the elder Pepin and his son, the glorious Charles Martd, pos-
sessed virtually the kingly power; the race of die -Merovings
was fast approaching its end; the second Pepin effected tbe last
reunion; be united the name with the exercise of roymltyi two
things which had been entirely eeparated during the -daya of hb
father and of his grandfather* The crown, now, Uke tbe office
which liad preceded it, waa inherited by primogcnitore, and the
struggles of partition and reunion no longer racb«l and devastated
the empire of the Franks.

Art. VIII. — Philosophic de FHiHoire Naturelle, ou PJtcno^ies
de f Organisation des Animaux et des Vig6iaux;.pax J. 3.
Virey. Paris, Bailliere, 1835. 8vo.

That the study of the works of creation is an almost intuitive
feeling in the human mind is strongly evinced, even in tbe plea-
sure which children derive from gathering their little bunch of
daisies; and the bird Vnestiag excursions of the school-bc^^ and
his fishing predilections, are but a stronger development oi the
same tendency. Natural objects invariably excite in ebildren
and youth pleasurable sensations; and it is not until we become
the slaves of tbe utilitarian principles of advanced life, when com*
raerce with the turbid society of cities has sophisticated earlier
simplicity of manners, that, before we cordially take np any pur*
suit, we first ask what we can get by it, and that, unless a satis*
factory reply can be made by the chink of the current coini of the
realm^ we hold the wonderful creatiom of Nalnre as idle objects
of curiosity* and those who study them in silent contempt.

This might perhaps be explained by the progress of society:
havingi however, readied itscuhninsitiBg point and exhausted the
whole course of sensual and physical enjoyment, atidthen found
how vague and uhsatiafacU>ry it is to the inward mnni we- again
resort to tlie great parent for a toy to amuse our tedium. ' Thii
we play with for a time, until the intaBectaal facilities gradaally
arouse us to its clever contemphitton; and in iospectin|^ its struc-
ture, odier woodera develop themaelves, and what onginated in

On the Siudy of Natural Mstory. 157

idleness and a want of fmnisemeni terminates in a rational mental
exercise, which evolves, in. the conrse of deeper investigation, a
profonnd reverence for the Author of the created world. And
when cultivated properly, the Htudy of Nature will necessarily
have a direct moral efiect; as it hnmbtes us, and therefore is a
useful discipline<; for, until our worldly pride ie abated, we must
necessarily be wanting in that sympathy with our fellow creatures,
which it is both a duly und a pleasure to respond to* It is, there*
fore^ gratifying to us, in every point of view» to find a stronger
general inclination to this very laudable pursait> which, even if it
be not carried to the extent of making every individual a perfect
natunriisl, must however open new beauties and a wider field
of inquiry to the mere lover of nature. To the naturalist the •
scene before him is a book of symbols, the hieroglyphics which
conceid the secrets of the created world, and which, as be de«
ciphers them, present themselves as the types and prefigvration
of the immaterial world, and are pregnant m results to his well- ^
being, both moral and ghysic^il* To the loyer of nature the same
scene presents itself as one vast buzz of life and hilarity. He can
perceive no spot unpeopled and the universal hum. is the
psalmody of nature — a hymn of praise, lauding the benevolence
of the Creator.

Observing nature in its own domain, and not cramped into
cabinets, d^id, dry, and melancholy, how varied and how vast is
the Scene that presents itself, both animate and inanimate! We
nksjf either, widi the mineralogist, dive into the bowels of the earth,
studying its innumerable components, and, in conjunction with
the chymisti their various commiaLture, turning our reae^rchesto a
useffal .account for the benefit of oor not less busy feUow cnsa-
tures engaged in the traffic of mankind ; or, with th^ geologist,
we may, firom the superposition of the strata of these compounds;
account for their production and attribute their heterogeneous
posture to Che intervention of natural phenomena, and thus record
the several violent concussions and changes whieb our globe has
suffered, either from internal combustion or the proximity of some
comet: or, proceediag thence, building hypothesis upon bypo«
thesis, gWe the age of the world in good round numbers and
^*^t'sbould be much more grey than scriptural i^cord will
admit it» But from the probable truth of these conjectures let
us go and. hevbalise with the botanist^ and animaikiott begins to*
be given to tlse varied features of the face of Nature, which
hithertOy like the sculptured statue, was lifeless and inanimate. «
^U, substantial matter has hitherto engaged us, which, howso-^
ever the chymist may have succeeded in volatilising, remains stilt
^tli^Ti but the breatb of life, that wondrous tmig which the •

IBS On the SUidy of Naiwal JfiiMiy..

curiosity itid iitvestigation of five thoasand yeara hM not lieeo
able to determine, commences here its incubation. We may
here shcN^tly define it a growth by assimilation, through the
medium of a smaller or greater complexity of organization/ to die
power of reproduction, which| when fulfilled to the extent limited

' to it by certain laws that have not yet been ascertained, nisolves
into its inorganio elements, returning to the ktboratory of nature
what it had borrowed for its brief existence. From the aeveral
moulds — which form the first basis of a vegetable soil^ and which,
conveyed by the winds and moist air to the fate of the moat arid
rocks, are the foundation of the future woods that clothe ao many
islands of volcanic origin-^ to the lofty palm and gigantic oak,
how innumerable are the forms presented to us by the vegetable
kingdom^ and how grateful to the eye is its green vesture! No
branch of nature supplies man with so many necessaries and
luxuries as this. In the feeble tribe of grasses he has found the
" staff of 1ife"<^a more valuable gift than the sturdiest tree or the
most luscious fruit. It is hence that he culls the most valuable
medicines to soothe his pain-— here he gathers the embelliahKients
of his tablei and not its least important additions in the condi*
ments to a luxurious appetite; and from its fermented or ex-
pressed juices his temperance determines, whether he shall be
enervated by bis indulgence or energized by moderate enjoyment.
Here the organs of reproduction, which, in the animate world, are
unseemly or concealed, are redolent with perfume, beautiful in
colour, and exquisite in form* Nature is uot here ashamad of
their important ofiice, but thrusts them forth to notke and to
admiration.

Upon passing to the first pool, we observe the first indiealionB
of positive sensation. The confines of the animal and vegetable

. kingdoms are less strongly marked than those which separate
the latter from the mineral; so close is their connexion, that
earlier botanists have arranged among plants many objects which
later investigation has ascertained to be subjects of the animal
kingdom. It is in the world of waters that we find the first
traces of animation; here every drop teems with myriada of
beings, and Uie microscope, in the bands of Ebrenberg*, hu.
opened a new scene to our admiration. From the Moiias« one
species of which varies in size from -^^^"^ to 3^^'' in dianaoler
upwards, throughout all the infusories, which Ouvier classed
under the name of homogeneous infusories, from their having,

* 8e« hit eitnordmary ** Organiiation, S^iteroatik und Geographitchet Vcrhiiltmii
der Infusion! Thierchen," Berlin, ISSO, folio, and its continuation under the title of
" Zur £rkentoiss der OrganiMtion in der Richtiuig dea kleinsten Raumes/* I83f and
183*, Berlin, folia.

On the SUufy of Jiaiural HiMtory. 169

as he imaginedy no vitcera^ — Ebrenberg has discovered a dis-
tinct organizatiotii which he has represented in some beautiful
plates; and his investigations have been so minute that he has
cbssed their structure in full detail, and has even compared it
with that of the mammalia, which be considers that it equals in per-
fection, and in these atoms he has discovered a nervous system,
teetb^ complicated intestines, and also sexual organs. The theory
of spontaneous generation, which has successively, by the pro-
greas of inquiry, been driven from its stronghold among superior
animalsy resorted hither as its last refuge. The excessive mmute-
ness of these atoms promised it a safe retreat, but these great
discoveries wholly chase it from the world, and with it the entire
sophistical superstructure founded upon it, of blind chance being
the origin of all things. Illimitable wisdom and foresight we find
pervadmg the structure of these imperceptible'atoms; for, at the
^cation, " the waters brought forth abundantly the moving crea-
ture that bath life," all " afUr their kind;' but we cannot do better
than cite what Dr. Virey says upon this subject.

** The aUnosI univsrsal aniformily of the niicrosoopic raoet rssnltt
fooiD the faeile riistributioa of their germs, the tenuity of which is so
iaconceivable« Ifi in the simple distillation of plants, there be raised
with dieir atoms a host of light materials^ why may not the evaporation
of water in the atmosphere convey with it, as well as dust, tbesuDtleand
iavisjble germs of mould, of the byssus, and of the infusories — for we
observe that the winds convey afar cloads of insects, and of the seminal
(hist of the lycoperdon and of the fecundating pollen of the dioecious and
other Vegetables ? Does not rain-water collected In the open country and
entfloaed in the ^leanest glass vess<As speedily develop, by means of a
gentle incubatiout and under the rays of the sun, myriads of aolaiatGoIsB,
liMlt gften conferva, and all Ihe elements of protogeneoes .organisms )
We may, therefore, readily comprehend bow the winds convey, and the
rains precipitate upon the whole surface of entire continents and seas,
the innumerable germs of so many imperceptible microscopic races, inter-
mixed and multiplying, sailing throughout the immense ocean and the
circumambient air. Hence the earth bscomes the theatre of the genera-
tion and dissemination of these its primordial and universal inhabitants,
without our being able, or even having deigned, to enumerate these hosts
lost in the obscurity of their infinite minuteness*

^' If the germs of the largest species are originally so delicate, what
must be tlw ovuiss of the microsoopic iofusories } It is evident thai
their ejceoMive tenuity secures them fn>m our investigation. Upon ob-
v^^ing a green mould, the little jbyssi present themselves without any
apparent caase-^upon materials in a state of decompo8ition-*-as well as
the aniroalculae In stagnant waters \ — who dares then conclude that they
are the extemporaneous produce of a spontaneous generation ? Have
not these beings their constant determinate conformation, and have
not the works of naturalists, which we can compare with the facts
themselves, described and figured these species ?

1 00 Onihe Siudjf of Naiural Hktory.

'* We find that there exiito for them a kind of panpemia ; they eieiy-
where abound in miUiards in proportion to their destruction. These gams
and ovttltt we inhale and we swallow; being totally imperecpiible they
boldly insinuate themselves, and those which £> not perish find opportmiity,
place and means to develop themselves. They then appear as sprung
from nothing, and we refer to chance for their explanation. The ancient
naturalists, from not possessing the microscope^ referred the generation
of insects to this chance, and even those among them which possess
sexual organs and lay eggs. Many ignorant persons, or bad obeerven,
, still maintain that lice and the mites of cheese are generated aponcane-
ously, although they at the same time admit that apteitras inseoia cao
ateo multiply by the usual sexual intercourse. *

'' Thus also, according to many helminthologistay the intestinal wore»,
even of our viscera, are the produce of spontaneous generation, although
the nematoidea are furnished with distinct sexual organs, and the cestbidea,
according to Bremser, are hermaphrodites, the several articulations of
the same worm being able mutually to copulate. Where then ta the Tm-
possibility that the tenuous ovules of these worms may be absorbed in the
loose and permeable tissues of children, or conveyed by the cireolation
and the lymphatic vessels into the most intiniaSe structure of those tisiaes,
and develop themaelves in favourable situalioDs ;-— as, for instance^ the
ccbinoccns in the liver, the oosnurua in the brain, &c. \ It ia truo that
every animal does not exhibit the same species of wormi for they are
peculiar to the several ages of the individual ; and the different climates
of the globe produce different species of these parasites. If even therefore
the same entozoa are not found everywhere in similar bodies, this is no
argument for their spontaneous formation, though the circumstances may
be parallel.

''Thus the intestinal worms doubtless require animal food and beat to
promote their development ; but who wilt deny that their eggs may not
exist in the water drunk by those animab ? Everybody is aware that
the 6ihea and other aquatic races, aa well as the inhabitants of <<kmp
lo# oonntries, are most subject to wormy diseases. For instane^i where
is the impossibility thai the eggs of the tasniss, that are expelled with
the evacuations, may be dispersed throughout the waters in which they
swim, without finding places suitable for their development, until they
are swallowed by animals drinking those waters ? It is even said that
tsniae have been found in the human foetus and in chickens just discharged
from the egg. This is very possible ; for the mother may have trans-
mitted with her humours the ovuliae of these entozoa, which penetrate so
profoundly into the economy. Brides, the food we take -contains the
las^ehreptible elements of our diseases \ ' and every carnivorous* animal
whieh laps the blood and devours the flesh of ita prey, swallows likewise
the ovalm of the worma that it may contain* PaUas placed wishio a dog
the eggs of a tssnia, which were developed and propagated in that
animaL

* An ifwtmee fass bteu related of b field of wheat being town la a Swiss .vaUej,
and then baried beqeath an avalanche for the space of fire and twenty years. The snow
having melted at the expiration of that time, the vesetation of the wneat« which had
been thai Interrapted, tlieu went on, and it produced a harvest*

On tie Stmfy of Naiund Hkiory. i6l

, ^'XbaiihetmicffMcopie murld, wbicb pky^ sacb ao iroportaot part in in-
visible nalnre (for bow many molecules are organised !) remaiDs concealed, •
Ube tbe secret vbeels.of ibe macbine, tbe general results alone of wbicb
we ave enabled to contemplate. Doubtless tbe entozoa are nowbere meC
with but io tbe animals to wbicb tl^y are appropriated* Tbis is tbe
necessary condition of tbeir birth and Ufe ; wbereas. external naturci
wbicb is tbe fertile motber of all germs> is cbarge<i witb tbeir distribu-
tion, as weU as with tbat of sucb myriads of insects^ animalcul»j and
jnonldsy which propagate andintiinuatetbeniselves either by the air or by
water into tbe most bi^klen recesses of tbe earth*

*' And in fact tbe permaneac^ of tbeir speciea, the perpetual preserva-
tion of their distinct stroctures^ evince a regubir law of formation by
oiemia oC eggi or germs pre-existing in similar parents/' — p.. 1 1 1 — 1 1 6.

We have thought it desirable to adduce here, although it de-
taiojt us in our progress, the strong proofs that e^ist of there
being no spontaiieous generation^ though this tenet is still
helcl by many eminent naturalists. The great difficulty of ac-
Qouoling fcfc the production of these minims gives probability
to an opinioii wbicb, i4eitvcd from general principles^ is a.manifiest
abfinirdiey. ' But we eonaider £hrenberg's discovertea before
atlUdi^ to, and Dr. Virey's expositioti, as perfectly fionchimve.
' Let us graduaUy ascend the scale— this term We use for the sake
of convenience, though our suY>sequent remarks will show its
inappropriateness-*-aud leave the pro^ozo^, or first animals, M'hich
exemplify more than any other class the universal diffusion of
animation; for one of them does not even respect tbe brain.
of HMin bimselfi but intrudes into that very oi^an wbicb gives him
his paijamouat importance in the creation, while others inhabit
equally remote but more igaobb aituations, auch as the inteatines.
the live?, the ey«i, and' even thece^lokir meinbrane of man, aa well
as of animals^ and their' rvcondite position has chiefly fostered the
ab<5ve opinions which w.e think so satisfactorily controverted.- —
We must notice, among the class of zoophvtes, the animals
tbat produce the sponges and the corals; the latter, silently
working in the depths of the ocean, by their frequently beau*
tiful concretions transform unfathomable abysses. into reefs, and
bridges, and islands ; wbicb we need but mention to show the
powerful agenoy which sucb apparently insignificant creaturea
exercise bodi over man's destiniosi and tbe external surface of the
earth. Others of them, as die sea-anemones (oc/c/tin), decorate
Ae fathomless depths with the beanty and varwty of a gay
parterre, and dthers again, which swim upon the surface; em-',
bellish the oceanic nights with their pale phosphoric lustre, thereby
aiding tbe innagination of tbe remote voyager to conjure np fairy
scenes and tritonic festivals. It is in this branch of the animal

VOL. XVII. NO, XXXIII. M

l62 On the Study of Natural History.

« kingdom that we find the strongest reflex of the vegetable world,
in form as well as colour ; and in fact, frequently so deceptive in
its effects, as we have before remarked, as to have deceived erudite
naturalists and botanists.

We now come to the mollusca, or gelatinous animals, for
we consider with Goldfuss, Dumeril, and other eminent zoo-
logists, that they rank infinitely below the annulosa^ or ar-
ticulated animals, above which Cuvier has placed them. It
is the shells of these animals which are so universally admired for
either elegance of form, contrast or harmony of colour, and beauty
of sculpture. We reflect but little, when observing them on
the mantelpiece or in the cabinet, upon the varied nature of the
functions of the animals that produce them, or in cases of great
rarity, the profound abysses whence accident has cast them up to
excite our admiration. For even the back-ground of the picture
, of creation is, in its most hidden recesses, as perfectly elaborated as
those groupings in its fore-ground which are most obvious to the
human eye and intellect. Hence arises a question in our minds,
whether man may justly arrogate to himself the entire dominion
of which he boasts — if it be not from the intercalation of these
obscure beings, as links of the great chain, and as chords of die
general harmony f Some of these, as the argonaute, wing their
light way, scudding, impelled by the current, or at will, before the
breeze, upon the calm surface of the waves, or momentarily sinking
at the approach of danger. Others are affixed to the solid rock,
as the oyster, whence nothing but mechanical force can remove
them, and others propel themselves by the sudden clapping of
the valves of their shells together, and thus by a sort of spring
effect their progression; whereas the whole series of univalves and
naked mollusca advance, as the common snail and slug, by the
clinging of a muscular foot. Very many of this class are edible,
and are as delectable to the epicure as the solitary gem pro-
duced by one of them is agreeable to beauty, and to royalty, for
it forms a highly valued decoration in the crowns of princes who
are not so lavish of their treasures as was the queen of Egypt.

Proceeding onward, we arrive at the Crustacea, or animals enve-
loped in a crust, among which the lobster and the crab, the cray-
fish, the shrimp, and the prawn, are perhaps the most attractive.
The habits of many of them are exceedingly curious, especially
the migratory instinct of the several species of land crabs ; and
many of them diverge still further from their typical character of
sea-animals, and actually ascend trees, — for instance, that called the
tree-lobster, which mounts the cocoa-nut palm for the sake of its
ffuit. This class comprises au extensive host, as does« also> the
next, the arachnoidae, or spider-like anirnals. With tbe9e again

On the Study of Natural History. 1 63

we quit the water» as the chief receptacle of animated life, uud al-
though many of those \vc shall subsequently notice iuhabit it^yet,
with the exception of the fishes — not one of which is known to in-
habit the land unless for a very brief period — we shall fiud that the
preponderance of life is affixed to the land. Some of the spiders we
observe launching their balloon into the wide welkin as aeronauts —
others descending with their diving bell beneath the waters — others,
subterranean in their habitations, with superficial toils spread to
take their unwary prey, — whilst others weave their elegant tissues^
distended from spray to spray : some are said to capture small birds,
but this assertion admits of considerable doubt, and there are others
again which leap like tigers suddenly upon their ravin. At-
tempts have been made, but hitherto unsuccessfully, to apply •
their webs to useful purposes^ although, as objects of curiosity,
gloves have been manufactured from them, and, we believe in one
instance, a lady*s dress. But the scorpion and the mites, or acari,
are perhaps the most redoubtable to man ; the first by its venom,
and the second as being the cause of some of the most abhorrent
of the diseases that attack the human race. The next class, the
insects, present an almost illimitable host, the most extensive
certainly throughout the entire range of the animal kingdom, and
perhaps^ also, the greatest wonders of all, from their remarkable
metamorphoses, and, in many cases, highly developed instincts.
Among them we find social tribes almost aping the polity of man,
and none among the superiorly organized mammalia surpass them
— not even the beaver — in this faculty. It is true that in all the
classes we find many tribes which are gregarious, but none are.
social. There are approximations indeed among the rooks, but, with
these solitary exceptioys, the rest are heedful only of their own
advantage, and do not labour in combination for the common weal.
How varied besides are their forms! — how splendid their colours!
The greatest poets have borrowed from them some of their
happiest similes, and even inspired moralists their most pertinent
illustrations. — How variously useful are they to man and yet how
despised by the majority! Even the little silkworm gives employ-
ment, and consequently daily bread, to many millions of the
human race, and how many others supply man with luxuries and
necessaries !

Let us pass onward and observe the fish traversing the
ocean in every possible direction, and in every imaginable form
adapted to that element — some eccentric in the extreme, others
as elegant, and all the most voracious of the animated creation, and,
as a compensation, also the most prolific ; for who shall calculate
their myriads, perhaps more numerous than the sands over which
they swim ! How noble a gift to man merely as articles of

M 2

164 On the Study of Natural History.

food, and upon wfaich some tribes of savages exckisively exist!
In size also, at least in length, some of them are perhaps the
largest of animab. The accounts of their excessive longevity are
probably erroneous. The ring found in the gill of die pike» at
Kaiserslautern, if it was not an heir-loom in the family of die fish,
was a piece of chicanery practised by some interested party ; for, is
it credible that it should have attained the age of nearly three
hundred years? which is as monstrous as nineteen feet for the
lengtli of its body.

We next arrive at the reptiles, all more or less hideous in aspect
and habits, and some instinctively abhorrent to us from the pri-
meval curse. It is as denizens of this classi that the most ano-
malous and gigantic remains of a former creation present theiB-
selves. — Here we should arrange the huge megalosaurus, supposed
to have been 70 feet long and eight feet high, and the iguanadi^n at
least 60, did they still exist, and which idea has even been started,
hypothetically, by a favourite writer,* from the analogy of a still
existing individual of the class being found to inhabit subterra-
nean lakes and pools ;i' and he therefore conceives it probable,
from the universal distribution of animation upon the surface, that
^Nature has been as active in her operations beneath it; proving, by
the population of these abysses, that no spot which can be inhabited
is left unpeopled. Some violent concussion must consequently have
intermingled their remains with the upper crust, where accident
has exposed them to the researches of the curious, and but for
which man never could have arrived at the knowledge of them.
Leaving this point in all its uncertainty and improbability, what
shall we say to those most anomalous creatures, the pterodactyl!,
• which the majority of opinions concur in considering as hav-
ing been flying reptiles. Collini conceited them to be fishes;
Cuvier, what they are still held to be; Soemmering classed
them with the mammalia, where also Wagler has placed them,
and, in fact, in a distinct order together with the plesiosaurus, the
ichthyosaurus, and the existing ornilhorhynchus. Wagler also
has classed them with the mammalia; but what are thought to have
been their wings he treats as iins, and makes them swimming ani-
mals. Oken calls them reptiles, among which they are placed by
Meyer also, who holds Cuvier's opinion. It is in this class, likewise,
.that we find tlic serpents which many nations have deified, and which
Scripture makes the type of evil. How elegant are their motions!
from which the ancients called their progression the gait of the gods.
The enortnous size of the boas, their great muscular strength, dila-
table jaws, and prehensile tails, enable them to capture deer, and
even oxen, and criish their bones by their constriction, and then,

* Kirby, Bridgewftter TreAtise. f Proteus.

0/1 the Study of Natural History. 165

ooveriag tbem \fith their salivai to swallow them whole; which,
according to travellers, is a lengthy process, and the horns of the
aninoal are left projecting from the mouth, whence by degrees they *
ultimately rot off. The enormous pythons of the old world yield
in nothing to the boas of America. The story of that which is
said to have been 120 feet in length, and was killed by the army
of Regulus in Africa, is doubtless an exaggeration ; but we in
these cold latitudes can barely form a conception of the vigour of
animal life beneath the prolific heat of the sun, which stimulates
their generation, imparting to them vivacity of colour, extrava*
gaace of feature, and a monstrous size.

Barely mentioning the toads, turtles, and tortoises, let us pro-
ceed to the more pleasing scene presented to us by the aerial group
of birds — here from the pigmy humming bird, resplendent with all
the colours of the most vivid gems, scarcely larger than the bee
hovering over the flower, and M'ith distended tongue imbibing its
nectar, to the majestic Condor,

" towering in pride of place,"

how animated are their tribes ! This, considered as a whole, is
perhaps the most beautiful and gratifying to man of all the classes
of the animal kingdom, and many of its species are infinitely
serviceable to him. Our groves and fields are enlivened by their
songs, and our tables amply furnished by them with choice articles
of food ; their down supplies us with warmth and comfort, and
their quills with the instrument for the communication of our
ideas.

From them to the mammatia, or animals that suckle their
young, a link is formed by that most extraordinary creature^
the duck-billed Platypus,* which is said to be ovoviviparous,
or producing young by means of eggs that are hatched within
it. It is one of the most remarkable natives of New Hol-
land, that country so remarkable in the majority of its
vegetable and animal productions. Its webbed feet and aqua- •
tic habits are common to many of i\» class, but the extraordi*
nary spur with which the posterior legs of the male are furnished,
and which are said to vent a venom in self-defence, is the only
instance, we believe, of a venomous organ being found among the
mammalia. In this class man finds the greatest approximation
to bis own form, organisation, and intellect. He is here provided
with beasts of burden, that lighten his labour, and supply him
with multitudes of necessaries. Here the sagacious dog is his
safeguard against the incursion of the wolf upon his flocks, which
furnish him with apparel and with food ; the horse is his noble

Ornitliorbjnchas paradoxus.

166 On the Study of Natural History.

compaQion in the chase and in the field, and his unwearied ser-
vant for the plough and the carriage. The dromedary and camel,
patient of thirst, carry him fleetly across the burning desert:
and the huge elephant is his irresistible bearer in the field of
battle. This class, least numerous in species of the whole animat
kingdom, is the most serviceable to man in supplying him with his
positive and indispensable necessaries; yet here again, as elsewhere
throughout the animal kingdom, those that are most serviceable
to him are quiet feeders upon vegetables. The carnivorous
tribes be finds less domitable, and, as it were from an instinctive
abborence of canibalism wherever he may find it, no carnivorous
animal supplies him with food. Nature here again rings its re-
peated changes of form, colour, instinct, habits, and uses. We
here ascend> by gradational structure and organization, to the key-
stone of the arch — man himself. It has been strongly argued that
man is no animal, but he is closely allied to animals in everything
save intellect, and if that wonderful organ which endows him
with it places an immeasurable distance between him and even
the most sagacious animal, he is still connected with them by
earthly ties, which it would be well for the correction of his pride
that he had the humility to remember. But it is not even in in-
tellect alone that the human beincr differs from the animal — bv
human bemg we must be understood as meaning the sexes collec-
tively,— for Burdacli* has proved physiologically, that in man
only the animal nature predominates ; but in woman, humanity,
as contradistinguished to animality, in form, structure, and de-
velopment, has attained its zenith, and the moral virtues are more
essentially peculiar to her, whereas in man they arc superinduced
by intercourse and the charms and curbs of social life* There-
fore as both sexes only form the complete species, we may even
in a system of natural history consistently elevate mankind to a
distinct class, superior to the mammalia which it prefigurates and
typifies, and to which the transition is made by the male. Here,
at this point of culmination, systematic natural history makes its
stop ; it dare not launch ii\to the hypothetical regions of immate-
riality and spirit, or attempt the classification of virtues, powers,
principalities, and hierarchies ; for, as Linneus might have said,
" they have no teeth," — yet an ingenious systematist of the pre-
sent day has insinuated their introduction into his system.

Although we have thus very cursorily mentioned the series of
objects and beings which the study of natural history embraces, it
is not thus that we find them in nature, where all are intermingled,
acting and re-acting upon each other, and the apparent discords
of nature's gamut, as we overhear the solitary notes, reverberate

* C. F. Bardacb, Die Physiologie als Erfahrangswisscnschiift, T. i. p. S64| $ Si8.

On the Study of Natural History. 167

collectively in the fullest and most perfect bafmony along the
stupendous vault of the creation. Partial evil is involved in the
general good, and if the insect repine that it is devoured by the
bird, let it be grateful that it has enjoyed an existence bov^ever
brief, for no other necessity called it from the clod. It is from
this individual evil that the general good arises ; it is hence that
such a multiplicity of beings are enabled to inhabit the world ;
not only species are thus interminably varied, but the numbers of
the individuals in each are proportionate to the object for which
they were designed, and the amount of destruction among them
occasioned thereby is amply repaired by a power of propagation
adequate to the loss. Thus no space is lost, and barely a species
exterminated, which is owing to the force of the law that
regulates their relative disposal. The relations of the animal
with the vegetable kingdom are extremely diversified, but those
existing in the animal kingdom itself between its several mem-
bers are infinitely more complicated. We find the vegetable
at the base directly or indirectly supporting all; and in return, in
very many instances^ it is only through the agency of animals
that vegetables are perpetuated; as they serve to render these
fertile by conveying the impregnating pollen, or by distributing
their seeds. In the animal kingdom all classes are multifariously
intermingled, some living, as parasites, upon others, supported in
a variety of ways, and some, although enjoying an independent
existence, live by means of tlie rest, if not at their expense ; but
the most direct relation that wc observe is that which destines the
herbivorous tribes to be the food of the carnivorous.

Thus we find wheel working within wheel, and the complicated
machine presents a sublime view of Omnipresent and Omnipo-*
tent wisdom. The vast scheme of creation here unfolds itself im-
perceptibly to our observation, and the object of that creation,
namely, the difiusion of the greatest quantity of happiness through-
out the smallest possible space, fully and energetically evinces the
benevolence that prompted it. What appears exuberance of pro-
duction is but provision for consumption, in the least proportion
required for securing the preservation of the species. We feel
astounded at the fecundity of many fishes, insects, and plants; but
yet how important is it to the preservation of the balance of exist-
ence ! For one egg of either that attains its complete develop^
ment in the power of reproduction, what myriads are consumed m
their various stages of growth ! Nor can we say that any are
abortive, for they have doubtless fulfilled purposes as indispensa-
ble as the propagation of their kind by supporting the life of
other beings, which, in their turn, either in their fecundity carry
this connexion still further, or in their several instincts exercise
functions concomitant therewith for promoting the general benefit.

168 On the Study of Natural Hiaoiy.

A (evr instances will fully illustrate the reciprocity of these intor-
lacings, which bind all to our common parent. Mother Earth.

To commence with the vegetable kingdom — what hosts does it
support^ from the lichen that grows upon the wall to the cedar of
Lebanon ! and what does not serve to support tiie aoiinal kiDgdora,
or individual reproduction, tends to feed the soil* Almost every
plant, shrub, or tree consists of a congeries of vegetables, and these,
although not independent of each other, are not necessary to their
existence ; hence tney are enabled to feed widely without the dangi^r
of destruction. In every part they afford aliment; in the root^atem,
leaves, bud, blossom, pollen, seed-vessel, and fruity what inultitades
of insects in all their stages of existence! — what hosts of birds,
and animals, and fishes, and reptiles here find their nutriment!
many being general feeders, but also very many restricted to cer-
tain plants or pollen ; and this kingdom in return derives addi-
tional fecundity, as well from the decomposition of aniasal matter
as from the stimulus given by a checked luxuriance^ which,
wheresoever carried to excess, would choke or starve itself. The
cryptogamous plants, as the mo^es, lichens, funguses, ferns, are
least nutritive, but they either prepare a soil, or promote decom-
position, where the elements would be too slow ia their efieda :
still they nourish a variety of insects; and even that buried fungus
the epicure's morsel, the truffle, is the destined food of a peculiar
little beetle.* The vastly superabundant production of poUen
gives nutriment to perfect insects, or pabulum to their young;
and, in return, they promote or effect its fecundation. The fraits
and seeds consumed by the frugivoroua birds disseminate them,
and the herbivorous animals manure the .soil and stimuhite the
growth of tlie herbage ; they then feed by their forcible destruc-
tion the carnivorous tribes of all the glasses, and which also prey
upon each other; and what these leave, or casualties or the course
of nature has destroyed, is awarded to the necrophagous hosts, or
those that gorge upon dead anit^al matter. There appears no
waste and no exuberance, for the latter finds a timely check before
it has power to destroy itself; and what appears a wanton expen*
diture of animal life, from any insulated point of view, wholly
changes its character of evil when observed in its necessary con-
nexion with the universal harmony of the entire system. What a
fruitful scene of observation and contemplation does not this
branch of natural history afford ! No phenomenon can be ob-
* served without its chain of histories, all intimately interlitiked and
progressing from one to the other. The human mind in the
capacity of its conception ascends from the mortal to the immor-
tal, and terminates its inquiry in worship and adoration.

^ LeiodeS cionamomeA.

On the Study of 'Natural History. l69

Buty passing from our northern latitudes* where life presents
peculiar and distinct phases, proceed we to tropical climates^ and
survey it there in its gush and glow. Let us im|gine a brilliant
day in a forest beneath the equator during the rainy season, which
has been sometimes but very incorrectly considered as analogous
to oiir winter, whereas it truly answers to our summer, — for it is
then that all is animated. The seasons are not arbitrary periods,
but their recurrence is regulated by their effect upon vegetable,
and, consequently, upon animal, life ; and as it is with winter that
Mre associate the idea of torpidity, and a temporary stagnation of
existence, we must necessarily, from its parallel effects, connect
the idea of the same season with the tropical heats. But return
we to our forest, and we observe "confusion worse confounded.''*
The buzz, the M'hirl, the flutter, the shriek, the whoop, the hum^
the chatter, and the song, are all intermingled ; the various birds
and animals, insects, reptiles, and plants, outvying each other
in the splendour of their clothing, and the luxuriant enjoyment of
existence, of which those discordant sounds are the emphatic an-
nouDcement ; all revel there in the wildest hilarity, according to
their nature, instinct, and habits ; and such is the vigour of ex-
istence, that even plants have a voice, and the palm proclaims the
bursting of its bud by a sound as loud as that of a cannon.

But we must return from this vivacious scene to the sob^r
contemplation of the beneficial effects produced on the mind by
the methodical cultivation of natural history.

The immense variety of organic beines which even our rapid
survey of them has shown to be so extensive, will be still further
evinced by the statement of their numbers already known, as re-
cently computed by Mr. Swainson, and to which we will add his
table of the probable number existing throughout the globe,
some of which the assiduity of travellers and naturalists is daily
bringing into notice. We can merely give his calculation, for we
have not space to enter into his argument in support of his as-
sumed probable numbers. But even in the first table of those
which are known, perhaps not one half of the gross number are
yet described.

Mammalia • « 1,000*

Birds 6,000

Fishes 6,000

Insecte 120,000

Mollusca 5,100

Radiata 1,000

Visible polypes . . . • 1^00 .

.

140,600

SwuDioii'i Zoology, Tol. il. Lardner^s Cyclopedia.

170 On the &tndy of Natural History.

We may observe here that the reptiles are wholly omitted ; the
number of birds are stated as supposed to exist in the Berlin
Museum, and the fishes on the authority of Cuvier, as known to
him. But we haffe here a gross total of one hundred and forty thou-
sand six hundred, exclusively of the reptiles and plants ; the latter
according to Decandolle amounting to sixty thousand.

Swainson's table of the probable numbers runs as follows*—

("Quadrupeds 1>200

,, , ^ . , 3 Birds €.800

1. Vertebrated ammals. < Reptiles and Amphibia 1,500

t Fishes 8,000

^ - , . , (Insects 550,000

2. Annulose animals .-{worms.&c 2,500

r Radiata, Star-fish, &c 1,000

3. Molluscous animals, j Polypi, Corals 1»500

Soft animals j Naked Mollusca 600

( Testacea t 4.,500

577,600

In this table it has struck us as exceedingly singular why odd
numbers should be adduced, for it appears very improbable that
the scheme of nature should not be perfect, yet why odd num-
bers cannot be so, would lead us into a discussion too wide for
our present purpose, although one of nmch interest. To the
above tables we will add the summary of those formed by Kefer-
stein,;): and which are interesting for comparison, as he chiefly
founds the computation upon described species ; and to which he
also adds the numbers of fossil species discovered up to the time
of his publication. —

Recent. Fosdi.

Mammalia 883 270

Birds 4,099 20

Reptiles 1,270 104

Fishes 3,586 386

Insects 247

Spiders

Crustacea ....
Xyphosura. •• .

Entomostracea ? • ^1 1

Isopoda

Myriapada ....

• Swainson's Zoologv, vol. ii. Lardiier's Cyclopedia.

t Report of Select Committee on the Britisb Muaeutn. Aaeust, 18S5, p. «4«. It
It here stated that more than 9,000 are known. .

j Die Naturgeschichte des Erdkbrpers in ihren enten Grundaiigeo dargestdit. 2
Sue. OTO« lo34» vol. ii« o e

On the Stady of Natural History , 17^

Mollusca 3,816 « 6,056

Annelides 102 214

Radiata 187 411

Polypina 816 907

Vegetables 32,000 80S

46,759 9,629

Here we have a gross total of 56,388, which we may admit as
an approximation, although many in the fossil list may be iden-
tical with recent species. But here the insects and entomostracea
are totally omitted, which, if we add in the round numbers of
Mr. Swainson^ will increase the total to 180,000. But another
computation of the probable numbers of the insect tribes only,
makes that class amount to the enormous host of one million.*

It is self-evident^ that a knowledge of so great a concourse of
organized beings can only be attained by a distribution which
arranges them methodically, by certain peculiarities, that reduce the
heterogeneous mixture wherein we find them dispersed through-
out nature, into an orderly series. The first and most important
condition of such an arrangement is, that every individual which
it comprises shall have a name whereby it may be distinguished
from every other. The series has been framed into groups,
which, descending from their more general resemblances into the
greatest possible detail of differences, have severally received the
titles of kingdoms, classes, orders, tribes, families, genera, and
species. This mode, which is rendered indispensable upon gene-
ral principles, also greatly facilitates the ascertaining whether any
individual being, which may casually present itself to observation,
is yet known, and has consequently received its place in the system
adopted; or, if new and unknown, it has first to be named, whil^
its structure points out its precise situation. The names, there-
fore, which objects have necessarily received are double, — con-
sisting of the generic name, which shows their situation, and
which corresponds, by way of illustration, with our surnames, and,
like them, admits of change ; and their trivial or specific name,
which, analogous to our baptismal names, is arbitrary in the first
instance, but when once imposed, remains ever after unalterable.
Yet before all this could be done with the accuracy requisite to
distinguish individually such a multiplicity of beings, and to pre-
vent the confusion that would ensue from the use of ordinary
language, ip consequence of its vagueness and want of precision,

* See Reich, Beitrag sur Lehre ▼on der gcographiKhen Verbreitung der losekteii.
Norm Acta Acad. Cas. Leop. Carol. Nat. Cur. v« 16, part 2, page 836.

1 7^2 On the Study of Uaiural History.

it was found necessary to adopt, for the description of these ob-
jects, certain conventional terms, which should have a definite
acceptation.

Hence it is, that natural history has its peculiar hn^uage,
called its terminology, or more recently, to avoid a barbarism,
glossology or orismology. For the foundation of this we are
chiefly indebted to Linneus, the father of the modern mode of
studying natural history ; and to him also the science is indebted
for the invention of trivial or specific names, also a vast improve-
ment, and which avoids the necessity of a circumlocuttoo, or a
specific phrase, whereby the older naturalists were accustomed to
indicate the different objects they alluded to ; whereas, now, the
name suffices.

It is unfortunately this nomenclature and orismologj which
have frightened the many from the study of natural history, and
certainly without sufficient cause. They ought to reflect that
' there is no royal road to knowledge ; that every thing we wish to
know thoroughly has its dry and tedious elements, but which lose
their barrenness so soon as we have quitted our leading-strings,
and can apply them. They ought also to weigh well the advan-
tage of a clear and distinct idea over a loose and confused oDe ;
and this distinctness is only to be obtained by the precision which
is given through technical language, that admits neither of sjno-
nymy nor periphrase.

Exclusively of the importance that necessarily attaches to me*
thodizing within the mind such a multifarious host of distiDct
objects, a system of natural history also accomplishes the iiYcuU
cation of method, and so disciplines the powers of the mind,
that they may be made to bear upon any subject with the most
advantageous results ; it drills it into strictness and accura^ ; —
but we cannot do better than give Cuvier's opinion upon this
subject.

" The habit which Is necessarily acquired in studying Qatural history,
of classing within the mind a vast number of Ideas, is one of the advan-
tages which this science presents, that has been least noticed, and which
will probably become the greatest when it shall be generally introduced
into the course of common education. It exercises the mind in that
division of logic, styled method, as much as geometry practises it in what
IS called syllogism j because natural history is the science which demands
-the most precise method^ as geometry is that which exacts the most
rigorous reasoning. But this method, once well acquired, admits of very
advantageous application to studies the most dissimilar to nataral history.
Every discussion that requires a classification of facts, every research that
demands a distribution of materials, is made by the same laws ; and a
youth who shall have made this science merely an object of amusement.

On the Study of Natural Ht$tory. 173

is BstoDished wheo he discovers the facility it gives him in the disenlan-
glemeDt of the most complicated affairs." *

Besides method to the mind, innumerable other advantages
result from the study of natural history* Let us again hear
Cuvier.t

*' It is ix>t less useful in solitude* Sufficiently extensive to iill the
most capacious mind ) sufficiently varied and interesting to amuse the
most agitated ; it consoles the unfortunate, and calrot animosities. Once
raised to the contemplation of the harmony of nature^ irresistibly regu-
lated bv Provideoce> bow weak, and insignificant are the resources we
have allowed to depend upon the will of man i

** I candidly avow tbat these views have always weighed deeply with
me; and if 1 have endeavoured to promote this tranquil study, it has been
because, in my opinion, it is more capable than any other to satisfy that
urgent thirst fbr occupation, which so much contributed to produce the
disturbances of the last fif^y years."

There is neither class» age, nor sex, but may participate in the
advantages of this study, and it may be pursued within whatsoever
limits are desirable ; it is so ductile, that it may be made either a
recreation or an occupation ; and, followed as the former, it is the
most innocent^ and instructive, and inexhaustible at man's com-
mand. Dr. Virey's description of a naturalist and of Nature is
sufficient to convert the most averse to this pleasing study.

*' llie naturalist is a contemplative and simple man, who endeavours
to discover and admire the laws of nature and of its Author; and who,
elevating himself by sublime thoughts to the First Cause of all, adores the
powerful hand which peopled the world, which brought forth wheat and
the grape, wbteh created all living species, and settled tbe laws of their re-
production, preservation, and destruction; he searches throughout the
earth di^ relations and hanBonfies of all beings, the great chain which
connects tbem together, the faculties which distingiHsh them, their
astonishing properties, and admirable organization ; he investigates their
utility with reference to his wants and his diseases, to the embellishment
of his life, to his supply of food, clothing, and the increase of his com-
forts. Without natural history, we should have neither domestic nor
niral economy, nor would there be any utility in the world. The fields
without it would be but a sterile and vain display of glory and magnifi-
cence, and a spectacle which would speedily fatigue, did it not also
interest us by our own utility, and which would only flatter the soul without
filling it with a sweet and agreeable satisfaction ; commerce itself could
not exist without the productions of Nature ; it is she who feeds a crowd
of miserable wretches^ who would perish attenuated with hunger, were it
pot for the indulgence of luxury, which circulates money, and extracts
it from the purse of the opulent to buy the bread of the poor. It is
Nature which supports the human race; hers is the first bosom we hang
to ; and if we could take advantage of all her gifts^ and, did we study

* Cavier's Regne Animal, vol. L p. 19. t lb, p. 20.

174 On the Study of Natitfal lUstory.

tborouglily ner fecundity^ and profoundly investigate ber beneGcent
intentions^ faer wisdom^ gentleness, and simplicity, we should live con-
tented and virtuous in the midst of abundance and security."*

Into systems we cannot here enter, yet we may observe that it
IS incorrect to say, as some systematists have said, that every
species is insulated, and has no connexion with any other organism
throughout nature. It is not well to start such an hypothesis for
the support of any theory, for it is absurd in itself, and baneful in
its effects. It contradicts hourly observation and escperience; it
shivers the harmonious system of nature into millions of inde-
pendent fragments; and a few days of such a state would destroy
the organic world. The apparent insulation of species and indi-
viduals is removed, in the first place partially, by the gregarious
tribes, and fully by the social ones, especially by those which sab*
jugate others to their dominion. There is nothing so independent
as to be able to dispense with the rest; and if the mysterious
, bands which bind all into one whole be not always evident to the
senses, yet sufficient display themselves to prove the existence of
the rest. Nor are those ties solitary, but multiplex; and they are
even generally far less distinct between two approximate struc-
tures than between the most dissimilar. Yet, why should it be
attempted to controvert what Nature has proclaimed aloud in that
gradual divarication of organization which we observe, and which
we dare not presume to have been produced for the very idle
purpose of variation only! We have not arrived, nor shall we
probably soon arrive, at a knowledge of those recondite balancings
of instinct and gradual changes of function which are doubtless
its object. Else it were a foll^ to conceive Nature so poor in
resources as not to be able, m lieu of creating individuals, to
create species ; and we shonid then find a greater balance in their
resplective fecundity. We generally observe organization and
function proceeding side by side, and modern systematists have
consequently endeavoured to give full value to the entire stfuc-
ture, and to found upon it what they have called the natural sys-
tem. Although we have before exhibited the harmonious con-
nexion of the whole, and insisted that one is created for the other,
yet it must not therefore be assumed that we have implied that
Nature absolutely predestined the destruction of the one for the
sapport of the other; for, benevolent in all her arrangements, she
has been careful to endow them either with weapons of defence
against their natural enemies, or instincts to elude them ; and un-
less accident intervenes, they live to the full term to which their
organization is adapted t and yet, should they fall victims to the

* Virey, Nouv. Diet. d*Hist. Nat. vol. xxii. p. ?45.

On the Study of Natural History. 175

vomcity of others^ they must attribute it to casualty, and to die
neglect of their own powers of evasion or self-defence, and to no
inevitable destiny.

But when evetl we have formed the entire collection, when we
have named the individuals composing it, and arranged them in
the order most facile for ready recognition, and according to the
most approved system, although much labour is overcome, yet it
is not comparable to what remains. What has there been ac-
complished except merely the index to the book we have to study? *
Their varied organization, structure and physiology, — their habits,
economy and instincts, — their mutual and reciprocal relations and
influences, — and, lastly, their final cause, in which is involved
the destiny of man, form so many complicated and abstruse
inquiries, that we may indeed say the study of natural history is
interminable. What a vast source of amusement and employ-
ment does it not then present, although its immensity appears
discouraging to our pride, from showing us the vanity of hoping
to compass the whole ; yet how animating and cheering is every
step of our progress, from the incessant proofs it affords of the
fostering benevolence that presided over the construction of the
laws which regulate Nature's invariable course ! The whole scheme
is built upon the wisest principles, evident even to the extent of
our short-sightedness. VVhat will, then, be the effulgence of that
wisdom, when, after casting our pupa case — the psyche — the soul
shall become entire consciousness, without the distraction of tlie
senses, and we shall perceive intellectually the full effulgence of
all those attributes, the coruscations of which so dazzle us even
now, through the dense medium of our senses and earthly intel-
lect,— when the whole train of final causes shall be spread out
before us, and what our finite comprehension may have dared to ^
deem imperfect shall and will be viewed in the completeness of
its perfection !

The study of natural history is a profound course of rational
devotion ; it humiliates us by showing us what atoms we are in
the universe ; and yet, from the comprehensiveness of the intel-
lect bestowed upon us, the beast, and every living creature on the
face of the earth, is subjected to us. But it can only be when
we shall have acquired a thorough knowledge of the whole range
of Nature, her laws and her productions, and their various iodi*
vidual and conibined powers of adaptation to our uses ana ser*
vices, that we may boast of haviug attained the zenith of human
wisdom ; for then our dominion will be no longer nominal, but
we shall become positively the lords of the creation, and wield '
a potent sceptre over it. Yet how shall this be effected, if
not by its diligent and profound study ! for here again we find

] 76 On the Study of Natural Uistonf.

another illustration of the trutli of Lord Bacou*s dogma, that
" knowledge is power." We may not, therefore, without ibc
charge of presumption or perverseness, despise even the least
contribution to that all-important object, the entire subjjugation of
nature to the intellect of man.

Art. IX. — 1. Hhtoire des Croisades. Par M. Michaud, de
TAcademie Fran^aise. 7 vols. Paris. 1818 — 18^.

Q. Correspondance d' Orient, 1830 et 1831. Par M* Michaud,
de TAcademie Fran^aisej et M. Poujoulat* Puria* 1833—
1835* 6 vols.

In resuming our task of reviewing the writers who have under*
taken to describe the Ottoman empire, or the races by iiriiidi it is
inhabited^ we proceed to notice a class of difficulties of a different
character from those on which we principally dwelt Yd our pre-
ceding article.* The impediments in the path of oriental iiiqnin
which we now propose to point out are those which exi^t iu the
minds of the writers themselves.

There is, or rather there should be, no differenoe in the' manner
of proceeding in the investigation of polilics from that pursued
in the investigation of physics. The same patience of investigation
is requisite; the same caution in reasoning from analogy; the
same discrimination between accidental sequences^ and tiie nm-
riable relationship of cause and effect. So similar is the manaer of
proceeding in every department of science, that liord Baceii cptR''
pares it to a tree, '' the stem of which is for some space Bnd
dimension entire and continued, before it breaks and parts itself
into arms and boughs."

The father of modem philosophy observed in the science of bis
day all the characteristic features of false philosophy. Theories
were first invented, and then facts, partially observed^ strained to
support them. This state of thought reproduced itself in expres-
sion. Names as vague and unmeaning as the ideas themselves (be-
came the signs of knowledge and the instruments of investigatioo.
Time was thrown away; energy and talents wena expended use-
lessly ^ which otherwise' would have been devoted to the study of
nature. This unphilosophical manner of pix>c^ding tended to
establish error, by giving it an appearance cf science and system*
Besides, unintelligible names being called in on all occasions to
account for and explain every phenomenon, the student had no
-- ■■.. ,

• See " Cbaraotera and Opinioos of TurkisU Travellen" in No. XXX. o^ ^^
Foreign Quarterly Beview. »

of Travelters in Turkey. 1 77

inducement to^analyze farther, but rested satisfied with his errors.
Bacon perceived the insufficiency of the process of reasoning.
Great and wonderful discovery, with few paralliels to its pro-
foundnessy none to its utility! Dr. T. Brown justly observes,
that he was the reformer not of physical but of mental science.
To use the impressive language of that eminent metaphysician,
" the temple that Lord Bacon purified was not that of external
nature, but of internal mind. It was in that innermost recess that
he overthrew the idols that had usurped a place in the temple of
truth, and^ having broken down the images, he left the shriue clear
till the time that the real goddess should deign to reveal herself to
her devoted and wondering votaries."

To say that we have seriously compared the then state of phy-
sical science with the actual state of political science, and found
theoA in some d^ree analogous^ would be to rouse against us the
animosity, of some aad the scepticism of most men; but, at all
eveot9« in consider^tioa of an experience in other lands prolonged
solely hy the aUurements of this inquiry, we may venture to say
that the words and terms which are applied to things and to noKxles
of existence m our European states do not apply to Oriental
countries, and that the use of them almost invariably leads to
error. In the preceding article to which we have already referred,
we en^eavonre^ to point out the errors into which travellers are
liable to fall ; in the present we propose to show how these errors
of the day react upon past events, and, by falsifying history still
further, confirm the aberrations of modern opinions.

We select a few instances of terms in use. What definite
ideaa are conveyed to us when we are informed that the govern-
ment of a country is ^*desp0ti€ V Is it that the capricious will of
one man is la,w to the nation? Is that despotism, where there
are no laws written in black and white which define the attributes
of the prince i Many govproments called despotic are not so
according to this definition* The laws of Austria as accurately
define the power and prerogatives of its Emperor as the coastitu-
tiofi (tf England, It may — it frequently does — happen, that the

Ewer of R. sovereign is very limited where no express laws define
I attributea. In the absence of such statutes, customs or un-
wiilten laws ^rise^ wliicb, however iniperceptible in their mode of
opedalion, more efiitctuaUy oircuoiscribe the power of the prince,
more. effectually secure to the subjects tbeir rights, than at least
those written laws to which public opinion has not lent the force
of custom.

If that.is to be termed despotism, where the individual has no
redress when injustice is done him, we reply that there is no
country which we know of, where injustice is not done to indivi-

veil. ZVII. NO, XXXIII. N

178 Character and Opinumi

duals with impunity. Is not injustice done under ^ $anetiom of
law? And that is by far the worst species of injustice^ because it
affects communities^ not individuals, and, by wearing the garb of
right, excites the feelings of nations against authority, and per-
plexes and disturbs their notions of right and wrong.

We see the word despotic used as the antithesis to constitutionaL
But the word constitution is not less vague than the other. Athens,
Rome, Venice, &c. all bad their constitutions. England, France,
the United States, Warsaw, Hungary, Sic. have their constitutions ;
and nothing can be more dissimilar than those constitutions.

Then, as to that word liberty. We are told by the French
that they alone know or enjoy it ; Englishmen declare that die
French know little about real liberty; the American asserts that
liberty resides only in the United States. We would almost ven*
ture to place in the same category the terms monarchical, demo-
cratic, and aristocratic. In fact, all terms applied to the art of
government are definitions of faction or of party, but not of
logic ; — they perplex as applied to the discussion of facts with
which we are acquainted, but they mislead when used to describe
countries which we do not know.

There are two words which are the stock in trade of the writer,
whose works we have placed at the head of this article. These
are civilization and barbarism; — words convenient above measure
for enabling us to describe a state of things to others which we
do not understand ourselves, and to account for facts we are
disinclined to analyze : — above all others have they tended to
check the spirit of research, and to contract the circle of our expe-
rience. The Roman term civilization lost its original simplicity
and value when it was brought into connection with the Greek
" barbarism" This word, originally derived from the name of
some population foreign to Greece, with which the Greeks had
come in contact at some early period, and had learned, with what
degree of justice who can say, to despise, became a term of dis-
paragement and contempt. Every foreigner, whether Roman or
Goth, Scythian or Egyptian, was called barbarian : but, how little it
was useful for purposes simply geographical, how much national
vanity lay concealed under it, may be gathered from the prayer
in which the Greek thanked his gods for having created him a
man not a beast, a Greek not a barbarian. From Greece the
word became naturalized amongst the Romans, as Greek literature
became the fashionable study at Rome, and was there furnished
with an antithetical companion, '^ civilization ;" and these have
travelled down, hand in hand, to the present times, through a
score of centuries, flattering the national vanity and exasperatii^
the national antipathies of a. hundred people, adorning the phrases

of Travelhn in Turkey. 179

of th^ philanthropist^ covering the designs of the ambitious, and
arresting the inquiries of the philosopher.

Sometimes we find the word civilization used in its primary
meaning. Thus we h^ar of a Greek civilization, a RomaUi an
Arabic, a European civilization, 8cc, Sometimes civilization is
confounded with a rectification of political abuses and errors,
improvement, progress, an approach to some ideal perfection;
sometimes with this imaginary perfection itself. Thus we find
nations claiming the word as belonging to their own social state
exclusively; thus, too, civilization is used in the abstract, and
we hear of the nations that are farthest advanced in civilization.
Then, as we before stated, we find it used to designate sometimes
European usages in general, sometimes only modern European
usages; then the countries wherever these usages prevail; and,
finallyi Europe itself. Hence we hear of the interests of civilizap
tion. Further, we have the vices of civilization, si^nif^ing those
vices which are to be met with in those several societies into which
the European family is subdivided.

However, in our author's '^ Histoire des Croisades," and his
" Correspondance d'Orient," we find these words on all occasions
adduced as causes. When he comes to civilization or barbarism,
then inquiry is at an end; he seems to consider himself as having
arrived at simple elements.

In describing the feelings of the Hungarians respecting the
Crusades, when first preached by Peter the Hermit, he says this
people, '' although Christians, and even boasting of having had a
saint amongst their monarchs, did not partake of the religious fer-
vour of the Crusades, and looked on with indifference at the pre-
parations made by Europe for the conquest of Asia. Because
they were separated from the Christian republic by their geogra-
phical position, — because they still retained a portion of their
barbarism** — Histoire des Croisades, chap. ii.

A few pages before our author had lamented the follies and
extravagances into which Europe was betrayed by a spirit of wild
fianaticism. *^ In the midst of this universal delirium, was there,"
he asks, '^ no sage to make the voice of reason be heard?" The
Hungarians did refuse to join Europe in her mad and eccentric
career, because they followed the dictates of plain common
sen8e,*-they acted as a sage, according to M. Michaud's notions,
"would have recommended them to act ! Why they acted so was
a point to be investigated, or at least explained, and M. Michaud,
not having investigated it, explains, by the one all-powerful word,
this — the very reverse of barbarism, by his own account. There
was another population which was equally indisposed to be carried
away by tlie current of the movement, namely, the inhabitants of

N ^

180 Character and Opinions

the Italian republics. So far from these being geographically
separated from Christendom, they resided in what was' then its
very centre; and our author informs us that they resbted the
movement on account of their '' superior civilization!"

Europe, with the exception of the Italian states, was jroYemed
according to the principles of the feudal system, which divided mea
into two classes — proprietors and property. The foraier (the
nobles) were rendered by their position restless and ambitious,
loving military enterprize for its excitement. They were neces-
sarily involved in perpetual wars, either of aggression, retaliatioD,
or defence. Arms were, therefore, their only study; and, n^-
lectiug the arts of peace, they were ignorant, bigoted, and super-
stitious. The people recognized in the clerical organiasation their
protectors, as the influence of the Church was originally secured
by its tendency to mitigate the rigours of feudalism. It was
natural then that any warlike impulse proceeding from the Church
should spread rapidly over feudalized countries. But the mass
of mankind in these countries were only considered as property of
the lord of the soil. They grasped at any proposal, by which
they hoped by change of place to change their condition, which
might be thus mended, and could hardly be worse. But how dif-
ferent was the condition of the inhabitants of the Italian republics!
They had the attachments of freemen and the rights of citizens*
Their municipal rather than republican institutions, by giving
each citizen a share in the direction of affairs, had raised the whole
community in the intellectual and social scale ; and dius, though
as attached to their church as the rest of Christendom, tbey were
more contented with their state, they were more comfortable in
their homes.

When the Council of Placentia was convened, although the
moat eminent of the clergy attended, and though a large concourse
of Italian laity flocked to it, the motives of the laymen seemed
to have been simple curiosity. No cries of enthusiasm were
raised ; no expedition was planned ; the council, after settling
some matters of local interest, dispersed. Far different were the
feelings that animated^ at the assembly of Clermont, the stray mul-
titude which was there collected together. The pope successfully
appealed to the fanaticism of the whole community; whilst to the
nobles he pointed out a foreign field, where they could gratify
their passions, and indulge in their filvourite pursuits, under the
sanction of religion, and under the guidance of the Church. Still,
however great was the enthusiasm of the nobles, infinitdy greater
must have been the migratory impulse of the mass of the popu-
lation, degraded by its necessities, its obligations, and its cui/e, not
less than by its superstition ; and indeed, before the nobles bad

of Travellers in Turkey. 181

been^able to make a movement eastward, four different armies
of serfa bad already marched. To the Italians, however, no in-
ducement could be held out» till the Crusaders had gained a
footing to Palestine, when they contrived to gain over some of the
mors pronunetil states, by offera of commercial advantages.

But, aa the Italian repiMici did not embark in this expedition,
on account of the inducements their institutions cave them to
remain at borne; so, the non-participation of the Hungarian mO'
nmrcky in the earlier Crusades is to be ascribed to the same
causes. Consequently, it was not geographical impediments that
pretented the Hungarian from being influenced by the excitement
that pervaded his neighbourhood; but because his mind had been
differently formed from that of Europe by the institutions under
wbich he lived,* and because he had as many inducements to stay
at home as the western serf had to wander.

We now proceed to another instance of error into which our
author is led by the use of this term. The Bulgarians, we are in-
formed, *' were barbarians that respected neither the droits des
gens, nor the rights of hospitality.'' Of course he feels himself
called on to.be more severe on this population; for, although
Christiana, they did not acknowledge the supremacy of the Pope,
and were therefore still further from tlie civilization of the Chris-
tian republic. Our author has not furnished us with his code of
the droits des gens* We can only refer to the standard works on
inlemational law. In them,, we believe, it is ackpowledged as a
principle, that any nation has a right to exclude an armed mass
attempting to march through its territory, no matter on what
pretext. So that, had the Bulgarians resisted the Crusaders
when first they tried to set foot in their territory, we know not
bow they could be said to have violated any principle of interna-
tional law, or, indeed, the laws of hospitality, as Europeans
understand the term. Still, we do not find any desire manifested
on the part of the Bulgarians to oppose their passage at first; and
they would have no more molested them than did the Hungarians,
had they not been provoked by the mad excesses of the undisci-
plined mob under W alter. Not only had the Hungarians allowed
ibem to pass quietly through their territory, but they bad supplied
the wants of that needy muhitude, which had little to give in return,
though not with the same fanatical enthusiasm as did the Frank
nations that constituted the Christian republic. But when the Cru-^
sadera reached the small town of Belgrade, " the governor not
'' having sufficient provisions for such an immense concourse, the

^ UtrCf as eliewh^, history, it\ma cloiel? questioned, aoswers, " La liberty est
oncienne, 0*681 le despotume qoi est noovesa.'

18i Chatacter and Opinions

** Crusaders spread themselves over th^e country, ravaged^ piUagedi
** fired houses^ and massacred such of the inhabitants as opposed
** their violence. The Bulgarians, irritated by these excesses,
** rushed to arms, fell on the soldiers of Walter, ladea with booty,
*' and a hundred and four Crusaders perished in a chntich t»
<' which they fled for refuge." Here, then, the Bnlgariaiia are
barbarians, ignorant of the droits des gens, and the rights of hoe*

f)itality, because they defended their property and chastised theee
awless invadei-s. And yet these same inhospitable and barbaroos
J>eople, when the Crusaders presented themselves afterwards be*
ore the walls of Nissa^ in the attitude of suppliants^ were touched
with compassion on seeing their wretchedness, and gave them
provisions, clothes, and arms.

A further instance of the use of the word barbarism. Our
author, feeling that a history of the Crusaders is in fact an histo*
rical comparison between Eastern and Western societies in dieir
origin, is led to contrast the different populations most mixed up
in these wars. In the course of this comparison, he sets before
us three diflferent kinds of barbarism : — the barbarism of the
Western nations, — the barbarism of the Greek empire,-^4he bar-
barism of the Turks ; — which he contrasts thus :

*' However, the barbarism of the people of the West did not resemble
that of the Turks, whose religion and habits rejected every sort of civili-
zation and enlightenment^ nor that of the Greeks, who wete no longer
any thing but a corrupt and degenerate peopXt. Whilst the Turks had
all the vices of a nearly savage state, and the Greeks ail the cormpiioos
of a state in decay^ there was mixed up with the barbarous manners of
the Franks something heroic and generousi which seemed to resemble
the passions of youth, and gave hopes of future amendment. The brutal
barbarism of the Turks made them despise every thing great and noble.
The Greeks had a barbarism learned and refined^ which filled them with
disdain for heroism and military virtues. The Franks were as brave as
the Turks, and valued glory more than the other populations. The
sentiment of honour, which produced chivalry in Europe, directed their
courage, and stood them sometimes in stead of justice and virtue." —
Histoire des CrotsadeSi chap. i.

What is intelligible in all these unmeaning changes on the word
barbarism ? And yet, had it not been for the word, our author
must have renounced the task of writing on the Crusades ; for
how, with his limited knowledge of the Turkish character, could
he have described the redoubted, and finally successful, antago-
nists of the Crusaders without it? — how vented his spleen against
a people the furthest removed, so to speak, from the Christian
republic ? In the first place, we find that it was the religion of
the Turk which rejected all civilization and li^ht. That religion
was Islamism — Islamism which| like Christianity, has been found

oj Travellers in Turkey. IBS

iMddftted widi many shades, not to say with every shade, oT civi-
lization and of barbarism. But Islamism has more unity in its'
character as a worship than the various denominations which,
under the general name of Christianity, even in the same nation,
and at the same period, exhibit characters of dogma, of practice,
and of policy, so totally at variance the one with the other. Was
not Islamiam more refined and ennobling than the degrading
superstitions that passed under the name of Christianity at the
period of the Crusades? Perhaps Islamism has impeded the pro-
gress of civilization and enlighteument ; but that has depended
on collateral circumstances. It was q/ter the Arabs had em-
braced that religion, that they made such astonishing progress in
die arts, literature, and the sciences. Nay, more, it was through
Islamism that science and literature were communicated to Western
£un>pe. Such expressions respecting Islamism show no less in-
gratitude than ignorance.

We should recommend M. Michaud to look into some of the
Arabic books on legislation and political science, — which, unfor-
tunately for Europe, have been only recently translated into Eu-
ropean languages, — and then compare the state of Europe, as it
regards these sciences, with what the Arabs accomplished. The
variety of subjects they handled, the learning, ingenuity, depth
of thought, they displayed in each, and the voiuminousness of
their literature, suggested to Mr. Turner the title of" encyclope-
dists," by which he designates them ; and yet he was ignorant of
the language which is the sole key to their lore. Von Hammer^
speaking only of their historical literature, says—

" He that possesses the advantage of drawing from these Oriental
sources, which, for the most part, remain concealed from the western
world, will be astonished at the richness of the treasures still to be
brought to light. There lie open before him — the sovereignty of the
great monarchies emerging from one point ; the power of single dynas-
ties, shooting out into a thousand rays ; the fabulous chronicles of the
most ancient, and the exact annals of the most modern empires ; the
period of ignorance anterior to the Prophet, and the days of knowledge
that succeeded ; the wonders of the Persians ; the exploits of the Arabs;
the universally ravaging and desolating spirit of the Moguls -, and the
political wisdom of the Ottomans.*'

And he subsequently remarks that —

'' More than one generation must pass away before the literary trea-
sures of the East can be completed in the libraries of the West, either by
the patronage of princes, or the industry of travellers."

But ^' there was something in the Turkish character, in their
nomade and barbarons habits; that made them repudiate every
approach towards civilization and enlightenment." Now, how do

184 Ckiiracter and OpitHons

historic facts bear out this a^sectipn ? Was it mt uadar the
dvnasties of the Seljoukians and lUrastuiaos that the literature «if
Persia both arose, and her poetry aod philosophy feacbeii the
highest pitch of glory ever arrived at io that oooiilyy 2 Did trat
^yria orpduce her greatest geniuses under the foHeriog protoo-
*tion of jthe successors of Togrul 1 Was not the beneficestf^ active,
and learned Nizamdniulk hioiself a man of letters^-aod the en-
lightened patron and encourager of scientific and. literary men,
the vizir during the reigns of Alp Arslan and .Maiek -Shall S
Were not both these prinpes distinguished patrons of aetence and
of literature? • •'

The Turk, Nourreddin, is described by the historian as paasing
bis life engaged either in the '^Uuer holy war," with -wvfipoas in
his hand, and combating the enenlUes of Islanii or in the **gteattr
holy war" .vtritb fasting and prayer, night and day occupied in
political duties aud study. He paid the inc^t sarked respect to
all men of attainments. The most celebrated lie- rose: from his
seat to receive at his door ; and this was a distinction particiilarly
reserved for men of literary merit, and not conferred on hie emira
or princes. Jurisprudenqe was his favourite study, and he was hioi-
self an author. He wrote on policy, morals, and legislation ; and,
taking the traditions of the Prophet on these subjects, he reduced
them to principle^. It is needless to bring forward the rdgn of
Saladin ; we shall content ourselves with adducing one facU—
When Cairo fell into the hands of this illustrious Kurd^ there
were in the treasury, besides countless richcfli according to ibe
testimony of Aini, 2,600^000 books that:had been collected by
the Fatimite Sultans. The Maned UUatafet mentipim 120,000 of
the rarest descj;iptioa. The other treasures were sold,-^part dis-
tributed amongst the soldiery, part given in alms, part reserved
for political purposes, but the literary treasure was carefuUy
weeded and husbanded by this " enlightened harbaiian"
' But it may be said, that this love of literature, as exhibited by
the Turkish Sultans, was the effect of tlie study of Arabic authora.
To observe the natural bent of Turkish tact^ influenced by the
Arabs only indirectly, we must turn our attention to the stilte of
literature in Turkey under tlie earlier Ottoman Sultans, the type
and model of the Turkish race. Now we find that, as soon as
the Ottomans became a power, their literature arose and deve«
loped itself with rapidity. Long before the Turkish power
was established at Constantinople, even before it had set foot
in Europe, a constellation of Uterary tale;nt had illustrated that
pastoral race. The golden era of their poetry was the reign
of fiayazet I. There }s not ope of their earlier Sultans who was
not the patron and lover of literature ^ not one who, while encou-

iff TroK^lkri in Turkey. 1 85

raging the study of letters id others, did not himself tet the example,
by devoting to literatiire all the time he could spare amidst the
cares of government^ the tamult of war, and the distraction of
politics and ambition. Mahomet II. was one of die most accom-

Sished sohokira of his day. What was Soliman the Canonist?
id he hiBife unstudied, as the Franks did before him when they
were in possessioo of Constantinople, the Pandects of Justinian?
The enor pretty generally disseminated, respecting the Turkish
character bein^ averse to literary pursuits, onginated from a secret
comparison bemg always instituted between the Turk^ and the
Arabs ; but what people of ancient or modern times can bear a
compariaon with that singularly gifted nation ? However, more
deliberate and cautious, less daring and versatile, less liable to be
carried away by bold speculations and dazzling novelties, than
the ingenious Arab, the Turk yields to no nation in a keen
appreciation of nature and truth, whether as exhibited within or
aioaad us. So far from intellectual progress being repugnant to
the genius of the Turkish people, the stagnation of mind ob-
servable in later times amongst them is immediately traceable to
the introduction of principles foreign to Turkish maxims. Those
same noxiouH political principles, which, originating in the Byr
zaotine government, had formerly quenched the light of literature
amongst the Greeks, and had converted the talents of that lively
race into a sterile agitation, beins incorporated partially into the
Turkish system, operated so on the Turkish mind as to render it
stationary, and caused it to retrograde in the intellectual career.
But every attempt at political, moral, and mental improvement
failed as long as the body of Janizaries existed. It was reserved
for the happy genius of tfie present Sultan to overthrow this body.
Amongst his other reforms, he has not forgotten the cause of lite-
rature* Himself the most elegant writer in Turkey, he is causing
all the annals, histories, and poems, in the Turkish language, to
be printed. He is gradually getting the most useful works trans-
lated out of European and Oriental languages; and has com-*
menced a system for diffusing education universally among the
people* Many acts and changes of the Sultan have been both
unsuccessful and unpopular; not so whatever is connected with
the progress of instruction and the honour of letters: and while
in Europe we are fatigued with the nonsense of the Sultan being
before his people and forcing on them reforms for which they
are not yet prepared (!), we have heard in Turkey the Sultan ex-
cused for errors which no one defended, on the grounds of his
having done so much for literature. His humble attempts as yet
may be beneath the notice of the supercilious European, but phi*^
losophy does not disregard such beginnings as these.

«

186 Character and Opinions

But^ asserts our author, '^ the Turks could appreeiate Ddtfaing
great or noble. Contradistinguished from the Franks, tiiey had
nothing heroical or generous in their nature. They gave no
prombe of future amelioration. The spirit of honour^wfaieh gave
birth to chivalry in Europe stood the Franks somewhat instead of
virtue and justice/' The generality of historians that have written
on chivalry have laboured to discover when and how it arose, and
in vain, — because they looked in the wrong place. They imagiiied
that it arose in Europe, whereas its native soil was the deserts of
Arabia. It was subsequently transported into Europe, partly
through Spain; but it became more universally diffused there after
the Crusaders had had intercourse with the Mahommedans in
Syria. In Europe it was engrafted on a feudal stock, to which cir-
cumstance it owed much of its eccentricities and extravagances.
In fact, it never flourished in Europe as it did amongst the At^bs.
What with us was only a poetic fiction, lived, breathed, and
moved, in Arabia, even before Mahomet arose to concentrate the
energies of his people. It was chivalrous' feeling, in which was
incorporated a nigh sense of honour and a susceptibility of praise
and blame, that nerved the arm and tempered the blade of the
Saracen. The Turks inherited this feeling from the Arabs, how*
ever divested of its eccentricities, which this simple and sober-
minded people could little bear. To this day'survives that keen
sensitiveness to reproach and disgrace, although concealed under
the calm and dignified demeanour, which so strongly distinguishes
the East from the West, and which perliaps as strongly distinguishes
the Turks from other eastern populations. " They valued not true
nobility." Look at the characters of the populations and chiefs
that were the antagonists of the Crusaders as portrayed in history,
and contrast them with the chiefs and armies of the Crusaders: —
look at Malek Shah and his successors — at the Seljoukian princes
ih Asia Minor, Soliman and Kilidgi Arslan, and see whether
these lose by a comparison with even a Tancred or a Godfrey.
Take the character of Nourreddin, the redoubted opponent of
the Crusaders, the chief of a great people at a period of great ex-
citement and great success, and therefore the type of that people.
The Christian historians, even while employed in detailing the
mischief he caused them, cannot refuse the praise due to his great
and noble qualities. One anecdote we may be suffered to quote.
A widow presented herself before the crusading chiefs, complain-
ing that her children had been carried into captivity by Saladin's
troops. They sent her to Saladin himself. Her petition was
granted ; — her children were liberated, and Saladin wrote to the
Crusaders thanking them for the pleasure they had affohied him.
It is not possible to cite the numberless instances of generosity

0^ Ttavelkn in Turkey^ 187

evinced by indmdual Turks and Araba during the oourse of diese
wars. Oar author, however^ supplies himself a sufficient number
to refute his own charges ; but we would beg our readers to com-*
pare the anecdote abofe-4neDtioned with the massacre of ^700
Tarkisii haatages by Richard the Lion4iearted. Aftek* this mon-
strous breach of good faith, Satadin retaliated on the Christian
'prisoners whoi fell into his hands^ and therefore historians place
Saladin on a par with Richard. Compare the horrid atrocities
that were committed on the taking of Jerusalem by the Crusaders
with the wisdom and forbearance of Saladin's conduct when he
regained it. Did he attempt to interfere with the opinions of the
Christians who submitted to him? Did he or his Turks attempt
to molest them when exercising the rites of their reliffiont When
Jerusalem was ceded to Frederic Barbarossa by Melik Karail>
an express stipulation was entered into that all Mussulmans
should enjoy a free exercise of their religious rites. Every one
knows the storm that this excited ; how exasperated the Crusa-
ders and clergy were on finding the Emperor disposed to act with
good faith ; how every thing was done to inflame the passions of
the populace ; how the Mussulmans in the Holy City were in-
sulted; how frequently the terms of the treaty were infringed ;
and how zealously the sovereign pontiff preached a new crusade,
in order that the whole treaty might be set at defiance with im-
punity. In fact, look at all the Crusaders«the chiefs and degraded
people, and see whetheV the ^* vices of a nearly savage state'' were
not rather to be found in them than in the Mussulmans^ It was
not till Europe came in contact with the Bast that that impulse
was given to science, of which at this day we experience the happy
effects.

We might go on accumulating evidence on evidence and proof
on proof, of the past and present injustice done to history and to
truth, in the vulgar abnse of a people whoae instincts have ever
heen simple, generous, and noble : it may suffice to retort the
accusation to prove its absurdity ; and not the less so that the
retort is seriously made by one who from the E|^st looked back on
the West. The friend and countryman of M. Michaud, the gifted
M. De Lamartitie, contrasting Europeans with the Turks, ex-
claims, <* We constantly make the lowest feelings take precedence
of the highest and most ennobling, because toe are $(ms of bar*
f^riam, and our manners sind ideas still savour of their origin.''

But it is natural to expect ihe greatest injustice when our hb*
torian is detailing the origin of the causes that first led to these
Holy wars* — ** It was the brutality of the Turks/' he says, ** in
Persecuting Christian Pilgrims." NoW) had our author looked at
the animating spirit of the religion which the Turk had em-

188 Character and Opinions

«

braced, he would have found, that it was out of the natare of tliiags
for him to persecute any religion, unless provoked. The genius
of Mahomet soon discovered in his countrymen the elemeata of
national greatness, provided he conld combine themi and Jnpait
to them national unity. Ho effected this by preaching to theoi
the grand truth of the Unity of the Godhead. But* the religioos
teacher being mixed up with the political legislator, he preached
conquest not as another leader would have done, who had anived
at concentrating the energies of a mighty mtaoa, by ^litical
means as a political maxim, but as a dogma of religion. He in-
culcated another precept which went hand in hand with that of
the extension of dominion— all who professed the religion of a
book, and who, on submitting, preferred adhering to the faith of
their forefathers, were allowed to do so. No coercion was aaed
to make them abandon it, but, instead of being liable to be called
on to serve, they were to contribute^itffNrui% to the exigencies
of the state, by the payment of an annual tribute. Provided this
were paid, the Mussulman cbuld neidier interfere widi the free
exercise of worship nor with the local usages and customs. TUs
principle has survived to the present day; and, however the Mus-
sulman may labour to extend the bounds of his dominion, politically,
it is contrary to the spirit of that religion to do violence to the con-
science of the Christisin, and contrary to his feelings of hospitality
to interfere with the religious scruples of the stranger that dwelU
on his soil. Turkey has been the place of reAige for the per-
secuted Christians of Europe. The Jews, driven fay Christiaa
fanaticism from Spain, found an asylum in Turkejr. And now,
within the last ten years of transcendent international barbarism,
when every treaty or protocol penned by the mighty and enlightened
potentates of Christian Europe does violence to the feelings and
honour, and injury to die interest and existence of the Ottoman
power, — when we, enlightened and liberal as we caU oaiselves,
when we Christians and Europeans, have stipulated for tkeidisin^
heritanee and expulsion of every Mussulman from those provinces
tJiat toe have ivrested from her or over f»hich we (we use the pro-
noun as applying to Europe collectively and of course embracing
Russia) have acquired diphmatie infiuence,-^-»mine»8 Greece,
Servia, Wallachia, Moldavia,'<^at thist very time has the Porte
relieved the Christians of her empire frMi such disabilities as they
laboured under before, and hias raised them now to absolute
equality with her Mussulman subjects.'*^ And all this while we
go on as heretofore despising that people, whom it is no less oar
interest to know than to support, not through honest fanaticism^

* The Jews bate been eqosllj favoured.

of Travellers in Turkey. 1 89

but because we are the dupes of a power, that must no less despise
onr intrilect than covet our wealth.

The &ry animosity which had driven these fanatics bj tens of
thouaaHida across Europe and Asia, must have been damped in
its progress eastward by sufferingi disaster, and experience, but the
flame was blown upon by fresh importations from the West, who
were under the impression that the millennium was at hand, that
our Lord was about to descend, to establish on earth the reign of
the saints. Besides this, there were continually new importations
of priesis, whose pretensions increased as the papal power extended
its poUtical domination, till at last the arrogant Hildebrand had ani-*
mated the Church with his haughty soul and restless ambition.
Consequently the Moslems had a difficult card to play, if they
chose not to lose a city which they equally venerated with the
Christians. They made a regulaticHi, that each Christian pilgrim,
previously (o his entering the precincts of the Holy City, was to
pay a tax. Now, we think that European historians, before they
visited this regulation with so much displeasure, ought to have
looked at home at such things as alien laws, droits cTaubaine,
commercial regulations, 8gc« Supposing it was only a financial
measure; would Europeans be justified in condemning it? But it
was a measure of self-^defence^ takeep out the poorer pilgrims; as
experience had taught the Turks that this class, being more igno-
rant and £inattoal, was more liable to have its passions worked on
and to be excited to turbulence by artful and designing men. We
must, however, not forget that Jerusalem is looked on by the
Mahommedan, as on a par in sanctity with Mecca. The spot
where the prophet of Cbri^nity preached, is as hallowed in his
eyes astbe city in which the prophet of Islam preached. Mahomet
acknowledged his inferiority to Jesus, though he gave out, at the
same time, that- the* revelation which he was charged to communis
cate was to supersede all previous ones. Jesus is, however,
clothed with Divine attributes, and is, according to the Koran, to
judge the world.

When Omar, the third Caliph, gained possession of Jerusalem,
be was adi^sed by some of hb followers to convert the Church of
the Hidy Sepulchre into a Mosque. But the Caliph declared
that hewcmld not infringe the rights of his conquered subjects.
He therefore contented himself with founding, on the ruins of the
temple of Solomon, to wliich no people kud claim, the grand
mosque which bears his name to this day ; and such is its peculiar
sanctity^; that no unbeliever is allowed even to enter the sacred
enclosure. Had no feeling of fanaticism whatev^ existed in the
°nnds of the Mussulmans, which of course could not be — it
most have been awakened by the fanaticism of the Christians, and

1 90 CkariKtet mA Ofimom

by tbeir peraecuting spirit. Fanalicisin beoatee e?eii a necessary
bond of existence against the monstrous aggression of the weatern
armies, pushed on by frenzied seal for the destruction of Islamism.
The character of the two churches is epitomised in the follow-
ing anecdote. One morning, a dead dog was fouad pollutiaf
the sacred limits of this mosque, where it had inieniiomtlfy beea
thrown. ^As dead animals of any kind, and dogs particularlyi are
considered unclean by Mahommedansi and no Muasuloian is
allowed to touch them, it may be easily imagined what a com-
motion was excited amongst the Mahommedans by such awantoo
insult. The act was distinctly traced to the Christians, and
therefore the Christian authorities were summoned and told that,
unless the offender was delivered up, they should be held respon-
sible. This anecdote is given by M. Michaud to prove the
brutality of the Mussulmans 1 (These authorities were answer-
able for any crime committed by the community which they repre-
sented, and by whota they were elected.) At last a young man
came forward, confessed himself to be the culprit, and suffered
capitally. M. Michaud reproaches the Turkish auttioritiea for
not recognizing in this confession an act of generous devotion.
Hpwever, we are not sure whether they could have acted so as
to please our author on the one hand, and an exasperated people
on the other. We wonder, if the case had been reversed, how the
Catholic militant Church would have thought fit to act !

Having now seen the ignorance and prejudices of our author,
as an historian, and the effect these two words, Civilization and
Barbarism, have had on him in concealing his prejudices and
his ignorance from his own observation, we prepare to follow him
in his peregrinations. He went into the East, after he had com-
pleted and published his history. He allows that he might have
done better had he visited Oriental countries before. We are of
the same opinion ^ but our reason for coming to this conclusion
differs from his. We do not think that he had only to improve
his geographical and topographical knowledge. M. Michaud
tells us, that it is never too late to learn. Unfortunately, it is but
too generally too late to learn, when one considers one's- te^* pledged
to opinions, from having published them. The volumes before
JUS teem with proofs of this assertion. In defiance of facts, which
must have every where met his eyes, if he used them at all, he did
not see any thing to change in his opinions respecting the natiooai
character of the Turks. There was nothing noble or geoerous
to be perceived in them. The only thing requiring correction
respected the topography of Constantinople. It could not be
surrounded by water, as he had stated in his history ! But we
leave the Crusaders to their own fate ; '^ like the silkwormi" be

c/* Tratfelhn in T^key. 191

sajiy '' I have spun my ailken web| and now I burst my eiiclo«
8ure« and cleave the air with my wings.'*

At Toulon, previously to his departure, M. Michaud meets
General Bourmont, then *at the head of an army which was to
sail against Algiers. He establishes some analogies between
himself and the French marshali which we do not ourselves dis^
tinctly comprehend^ but which we quote for the benefit of such of
our readers as delight in the solution of riddles. They were both» he
says, marching at the head of a crusade; that of the marshal was
a crusade of. civilization. A few words on this crusade will be
sufficient to show how much it was founded injustice, whatever
may be thought of the crusades of Christianity. The French
governaf^ent, during the late war veith Ensland, bad become in-
debted to a considerable amount to an Aigerine Jew, who had
contracted to supply Malta with provisions when in possession of
the French. He constantly sent m his claims to the French go*
vemment, and received nothing but promises. In order to fulfil
his contract he had become deeply indebted to the Aigerine
government, which pressed to be paid. The Jew, therefore, re-
ferred the matter to the Dey. The Dey, at a conference with the
French Consul, remonstrated, and the Consul replied in language
which he must have well known would lead to a rupture of some
kind, especially as the insult was in public, in the presence of the
Dey's secretaries and attendants. The enraged Turk did not knock
him down, as an Englishman probably would have done ; did not
strike him with his fist, but with his fan. The government of
Polignac seized on this golden opportunity as a means whereby
^t once to cancel a just debt, and to divert the attention of the
French public from the consideration of internal grievances, by a
spectacle of miUtary bustle, conquest, and glory. In this scheme
is to be perceived the finger of a certain wily diplomatist, then in
Paris, who foresaw in it a means of compromising the French
government in plans of ambition, of implicating them with Rus-
sian views of encroachment and aggrandisement, and of securing
for his master an easy and convenient *ally, who would connive at
his seizing upon Constantinople, when his plans were ripe» Many
a vast design and far-sighted scheme, which we have not leisure
to specify, lurked under this ^' Crusade of Civilization" Our
modern Godfrey, on gaining possession of Algiers, commenced
his holy task by trampling on rights, usages, and property, seizing
the money treasured up in the Beit-ul-Mahl, and set apart for the
use of orphans and widows, and his crusaders by insulting the
feelings of the people, ^nd committing deeds of outrage and vio-
lence, of which even M, Michaud would scruple to accuse the
Turks. But he left France under dismal forebodings. A fearful

igs Characterand Opimom

presentiment weighed down bis spirits that his friends, the Polig-
nac ministry, would gain nothing by their dishonest proceedings.
From Alexandria he writes tg a friend; on hearing tteit the prince
and his colleagues were standing their^trial, that " if the Letaot
were allowed to plead in defence of the accusedj, she could show
how liberal the pritice has been* She would 6peak of emaprci-
pated Greece! of vanquished Algiers! !" and he might have added,
of Mahomihed Ali insti^ted to rebel against his sovereign^ and to
cause the dismemberment df Turkey ! !—^ Oh the injustice of re-
volutions P' The idea of revolution haunts him wherever be goes.
No dog can bark without his thinking it in a state of revoliition.
In the peaceful reforms of the Sultan, during the years IBSOand
1831, he sees, what i — a revolution : and many a simple Turiiish
peasant he hot a little alarmed, by putting to him such questions
as these — " How goes on your revolution ?^ ** Will h suc-
ceed ?•' &c.

Our traveller, en j7(7s$aji^, visits Greece : touching at Navarin,
he lands at Napoli. In Greece be finds that Capodistrias, aaisisted
by the French troops, had succeeded in introducing into Greece
two syinptoms' of civilizationi viz. mendicity and street prostitu-
tion. For the former Greece was indebted to the enlightened
administration of the president; for the latter, although Capo-
distrias had done* much in preparing the way by the action of his
government on the public morals, no small share of praise is due
to the French soldiers. The '' brutal barbarism" of the Turks
had steadily resisted all such approaches to civilization as these.
At Napoli, our author sought for and obtained an interview wiA
the president, at which he was simple enough to recommend that
something shpuld be done efFectually to develop the Agricultural
resources of Greece. Capodistrias parried the attack with his
wonted dexterity. The fact is our author had taken a natrow and
isolated view of the case. He looked merely to the prosperity of
Greece. He did not take into account the effect thbt that de-
velopment would be likely to have on the corn-market of Odessa!

Describing his coasting* voyage from Napoli to AthenS| he
avails himself of the opportunity to give us a piece of informa-
tion, which sufficiently illustrates the style of observaUon of tra-
vellers in the East — that, '^ during the Greek revolution, the islands
of Hydra ^nd Ipiiara had been sacked by the Turks and the
inhabitants put to the sword. Hydra particularly suiTe^d, where
ther^ ,does not remain one stone upon another." Thereupon
follow reflexions ^j^uite as worthy of the attention of the moralist

and politician, as the facts are of the histprian's.

' • . • • ...-■.

* There is no such word in Tarkish.

of Travellers in I'urkey* IQS

At Athens, our author is indebted to the kindness and hospi-
tality of the Turks, as most other travellers are« and which lie
repays in the usual manner. The Turkish general^ or desdar,
received him with great affability. He recognized in liim '' a
striking likeness to the portraits drawn by the Scotch novelist,
which," as he says, '' resembles neither the barbarism of the Mus-
sulman nor the civilizaiion of modern Europe." He was not
barbarous as the Mussulmans are generally, because he was kind,
courteous, dignified, and hospitable! and, what is more, had no
objection to a glass of wine. The Porte, indeed, had recom-
mended him not to be altogether a Turk ! ! ! — to be. only " half
a barbarian." He was not civilized as the Europeans are, be-
cause, although he was originally a Kurdish peasant, he had not
(previously to his leaving his native mountains to seek his fortune
in the military career) made himself acquainted with the history
of Salad|n; who, although he ruled over Egypt and Syria, was '' the
ancient glory of the nation of the Kurds/' so that he was unable to
answer the questions that our author put to him on that head. It
was. well be could not, for he thereby escaped having to unriddle
many knotty enigmas, which our author had in pdto against him,
particularly about " one Anacharsis," ^* who we all know," he
sajs, " came from the north of j\sia." Ergo, the Kurds should
know every thing relative to his birth, parentage, and education !

Our author was not permitted to enter the Acropolis. The de-
testable barbarians, who prevented him from seeing the Partlienon,
except from a distance ! After the battle of Navarino, the Porte
bad issued a general order to all governors of fortresses not
to allow Europeans to enter and spy out the secrets of their
weakn^s^. This order had not been repealed, although the motive
that gave rise to it had expired, and the military comgi^andants did
not think themselves authorized to act contrary to the letter
of their former instructions, until fresh ones had arrived. He
sighs for the time when the ensign of barbarism shall no longer
waye over the citadel of Athens, that strangers who wish to see
the Parthenon may be able to gratify their curiosity. But when
this wished-for event arrives, he proposes that " a statue should
" be erected to the barbarians, for having religiously preserved
" whatever escaped the cannon-balls of Morosiui and the spolia-
" tion of Lord Elgin, When posterity read the history of
" Eastern Ruins, they will be astonished at finding that the two
" great monuments, the Parthenon and the Church of the Holy
** Sepulchre, should have remained standing amidst a general de-
^' struction; but greater still will be their surprise on learning that
'' these two monuments, to which are attached the grandest recol-
" lectioiis and the noblest thoughts, traditions of the Christian

VOL. XVII. NO. xxxili. o

194 Character and Opinions

'' religion and those of philosophy, in a word all our ideas of ctvi«
'' lization in modern times^ have been preserved bj Turks f
Great indeed will be the astonishment of our descendants on
learning this fact, if they remain as ignorant of Turkish character
as M. Michaud and his western cotemporaries.

At Smyrna M. Michaud becomes acquainted with his distin-
guished countryman^ M. Blacque, to whose talents^ sagacity, and
disinterestedness he does justice. At a time when Europe was
led astray by a frenzy somewhat resembling that which carried
it away during the period of the Crusades, he raised his voice to
set Europe right respecting the nature of the Turkish government
He fairly showed how we were imposing on ourselves in being
the dupes of Russia, and abandoning ourselves to the fanaticism
of civilization. In a journal which he established at Smyrna, he
reviewed *^ the conduct of statesmen, and the harangues of poll*
tical declaimers, relative to the East.^ He particularly turned
his attention to the affairs of Greece, and unmasked the system of
^ Capodistrias. *' Excepting some few exaggerationS|'* our author
remarks, " the Courtier de Smyrne is the only journal that has
spoken of regenerated Greece as history will speak of her.*' If
this be true, what cause have not the enlightened governments of
Europe to congratulate themselves on their handiwork! M. Mi-
chaud laments that a man of M. Blacque's attainments should ht
thrown away on a country that did not appreciate him; that " the
Osmanlis were ignorant of jiis merits ;" that *^ the Smyrna news-

Japer was for them a dark-lantern, which they carried in their
ands whilst refusing to profit by its light'' Whilst M. Michaud
was still in the country, the Turkish government showed how it
appreciated the merits of M. Blacque, by inviting him to Con-
stantinople,io assist with his counsels, to aid in the task of reform,
and to refute with his powerful pen the calumnies industriously
propagated in Europe to the prejudice of Turkey.

At Constantinople our traveller gives us his views of Turkish
reform. We should have expected that, before pronouncing an
opinion on reforms going on in any country within the pale of
civilization, he would have thought it necessary to make himself
acquainted with the abuses that called for reformation. But
such information is altogether superfluous when discussing ques-
tions arising in a land of barbarism. With him the epithets
good and bad are synonymous with Turkish and European;
consequently he only calls " reform" what appears to him a
kind of approach to* European practice; he sees nothing but
a change of dress, and an attempted imitation, as he says, of
European military discipline. Yet these reforms do not please
him. He finds fault with the sultan for having forced all

of Travellers in Turkey, 1D5

the Osmanlis to dress in the Frank style, because formerly
Constantinople, on account of the variety of costumes and dif«»
ferent-coloured turbans, resembled a garden of tulips; whereat
now, (i. e. in 1830,) all, except a few Armenians, Greeks and
Jews, wear the monotonous dress of the Franks^ surmounted by
that eternal red cap ; and he complains that the sultan, by pro*
hibiting the turban, has abolished a head-dress handed down to
the Turks from time immemorial. Now it happens, unfortu«>
nately for the accuracy of M. Michaud's representations, that the
turban is the national dress of the Arabs, not of the Turks; that
the turban did not come into use until at least the reign of Ma-
homet II. ; and it was in consequence of the too servile adoption
by the Turks of the forms and some of the noxious principles of
the Byzantine government, that an enactment was framed, regu«
lating the form, size, and colour, of the turban according to the
calling and creed of the wearer. This enactment led to all those
phenomena which Europeans erroneously attribute to religious
fanaticism. Now, had the sultan issued a proclamation ordering
all to be dressed alike, abolishing the turban, and requiring all to
put on that eternal red cap, it would be merely a direct return
to original Turkish habits, excepting that they in old times wore
felts, the origin of our hats. But this he has not done; and, had
M. Michaud used his eyes when passing through the bazars, in-
stead of listening to his Frank informants, he would have found
that the generality of the Turkish population still wear their
many-coloured turbans, and that Constantinople almost as much
resembles a garden of tulips now as it ever did. Whose dress did
Sultan Mahmoud then change? He changed his own, adopting
one which put him on a par with all his subjects. Christian as
well as Turk. He gave a uniform to his troops and his em*
ptoyfs, took from them the turban, in order that those who had
arms in their hands, or who were placed in offices of trust, might
be sensible that the day was gone by for looking down on and
treating with contempt individuals and populations that differed
from the Turks in the matter of religion. We have spoken of
this change of dress as fully as the subject demands in a preced-
ing article, to which we refer our readers.* As to the change in
matters of military discipline; this, too, so far from being an imi-
tation of European practice, is but a return to old Turkish prin-
ciples. The Turks declare, with justice, that they are only taking
back what Burope, borrowed from them originally. They do

* See the former article on " The Character and OpioioDB of Torkish Trafellert,** in
No. XXX* of the Foreign Qoarlerly Re? lew.

196 Character and Opinions.

•

remember, if we have forgotten, that the first organiaed, disci-
plined, and paid troops passed into Europe from Asia Minor
under Turkish commanders.*^

But there were other changes which the sultan attempted to
introduce, which for the most part failed, and, though importaiit in
illustrating the state of Turicey, our author does not mention
them, either from his ignorance of everjFthing going on in that
country, or from thinking them beneath notice, through bis igno-
rance of all the principles of administrative science. The sultan,
partly seduced by his zeal for novelty and his respect for Europe,
where he saw many things better arranged than in Turkey, partly
misled by ignorant or interested counsellors, manifested a desire
of imitating the financial system of Europe. His progress in this
ill-advised direction has experienced resistance from the practical
gdod sense of his people. That people, which had ever been
docile and submissive to accidental violations of right and justice,
steadily resisted when, in imitation of European practice, he
attempted to introduce principles which would systematize op-
pression, and to enact regulations which would interfere with
those rights which they have enjoyed from time immemorialj viz.
of buying where they can cheapest, and selling where they can
do so to the best advantage. Thus, in his own capital, the
snitan was obliged to abandon an excise on tobacco ; the Turks
declared that they would give up smoking rather than anboiit to
such an indignity. An excise on dried fruits met with a similar
fate. He attempted to establish a monopoly of silk. This too
failed. The Turks were jealous of seeing introduced any prin-
ciple militating against free trade, considering it as a natural
right, which they are not so ready to part with as Europeans.
They will bear no ^' change in those commercial laws that origi-
nated in the Desert;" and we think with perfect reason, seeing
that their legislator anticipated all the discoveries of political
economy, and prevented those evils from which that science has
taken birth. This then is the reason why it will be impossible to
introduce M. Michaud*s civilization into Turkey, — this the rea*
son why be need not have given himself the trouble of bestowing
a thought on such a scheme. We think that Turkey is to be
congratulated, when we reflect on the constant terror in which M.
Michaud lives amidst his civilization, apprehending a repetition
of those scenes which he once witnessed in the Temple, — whether
we extend our views farther over the pages of history ever since
that civilization was established, or con6ne it to Uie temper of
times in the present day.

* See in Batbequlus the parallel drawn between the discipUne and order of the
Torkbh camps and the disorder of the European hordea of bis daj.

of Travellers in Turkey. 197

But oar author^ wholly ignorant of every thing Turkish, and
therefore of the errors to which a Turkish reformer is liable^
occupied with his European prejudices, predicts terrible conse-
quences to the Ottoman empire, not from the ambition of Russia,
whose designs he informs us are all chimeras (!) not from finan-
cial or administrative errors, but from a change of dress and the
introduction of European tactics— as if the sober-minded and
reflective Ottoman would be driven seriously to quarrel with his
soltan for putting on his troops a red cap, and teaching them to
form in squares and to march in line, as their ancestors did. As
he always judges of Turkey from Europe (things most dissimi-
lar), and as he has seen that the rectification of abuses in Europe,
from their being dovetailed into the social system, is an experi-
ment always attended with considerable danger, he seems to
come, to the conclusion, without examining whether bis analogy
holds good, that reform in Turkey, no matter of what kind, must
be equally dangerous. To this latent conviction we owe several
diatribes upon revolution, one of which we extract.

'' All the revolutions in the World have a certain resemblance : I only
remark what in that of the Turks is new to us. That which struck me
most in all that was told me is the silence that prevails amidst the
greatest agitations. Amongst the Turks, disturbance in the minds of
the people is often carried to a great height without the country appear-
ing m the least agitated. In our cities of France, factions can do
Dothiog without noise. The chariot of revc^utien rolls only in the midst
of popnlar clamours. Here anger has no desire to show itself^-^feeU no
uecessity to spread itself to satisfy its impulse. With us, madness in-
flames itself by its own harangues, — seems to fear that it will go out, if it
cioes not stir itself up by imprecations and menaces. Ibe Turks,
whom I will call, if you please, the Revolutionists of Barbarism, have
heen seen to murder each other, pillage, bum a whole quarter of the
<nty, without a single complaint or menace being heard, without the
utterance of a single word — a real phenomenon, which would astonish
onr civilized revolutmnists. The capital of the Osmanlis never heard a
drum beating to arms at the instant of sedition or insurrection. I need
not tell you that it never heard the tocsin or bells. Only some public
criers pass through the streets and proclaim the intentions and demands
of the government to the multitude, at the peril of being strangled by
the malecontents, or those of the opposite faction. To make a revolu-
^OQ a^ Paris, we must have tribunes, orators, journals, pamphlets, elec**
tions. All this would make too much noise, and would be only a waste
of time for the Turks. Some inhabitants of Pera, during the mutiny of
the 16th of June, who pointed their telescopes towards the palace of the
Grand Vizir, thought they saw some fnmiture thrown out of the win-
dows. They knew thence that there was a revolution atStanboal}
they were sure of it later in the day by the noise of the cannon that
soaaded towards the barracks of the janizaries. The next day they

^

198 Charaeier and

might know more, by the light of houses burnt dowOj beads expoiel at
the seraglio, and dead bodies lying in the streets or thrown into theses."

la it a fact, then, that M. Michaud's informants, the Franks of
Pera» kn«w nothing of the storm brewing in Stamboul previously
to the memorable l6th of June? Was it really the caaethtk,
while the Turkish mind was in such a state of feimentatio^v the
Peraitet were perfectly unacquainted with what was going on,
until the sultan sent a request to the several embassies that noas
of their subjects (as the Europeans are called) should be allowed
to endanger themselves by passing the Golden Horn? Was it
only then that they bethought themselves that some catastroplM
was about to happen? — that they pointed their telescopes to l^m
as well as they could the state of the case, and escape from dw
anxiety of suspense i Did they not know what was the nature
of the contest, till the sound of cannon, proceeding from the
quarters of the janizaries, broke on their startled ears? So much,
dien, for the value of M. Michaud's information. Ferfnentatioa
and agitation there were — enough to satisfy an^ reasonable mso's
desire. The coffee-houses rang with imprecation and menaceiss
much as they would have done in the heart of civilization. The
doom of the janizaries was sealed in the minds of the populstioQ,
before the sultan pronounced the word " Vur !" Though die
janizaries could not discern the signs of the times, being intoxi-
cated with their late successes against Seiim III., yet, when the
aandjak-sheriff was raised, and criers passed through the streets,
or from the minarets called on all true Mussulmans to arm then-
selves, in the name of their Prophet to defend their faith, in the
name of the sultan to preserve order, no fewer than 80,000 men
rallied round their prince and the sacred standard.

However, as this is the last revolution likely to occur for some
time in the Turkish empire, in this respect resembling the reoo-
lutions of civilization^ (that is, unless Russia's projects for coOp-
yulsing society in the East be allowed to proceed unchecked))
it may be of use to point out one remarkable difference which
M« Michaud observed, it is true, but in his usual manner. ** In
Europe, revolution proceeds from the people: in Turkey il
emanated from the government.** But why is this the case in the
former instance ? and is the assertion strictly correct in the latter?
European governments are, generally speaking, the chief patrons
of abuses : possessed of no fixed principles to guide tbemi states-
men fear changes of any kind ; besides, there is danger from the
abuses being systematically, as we remarked| dovetailed into the
constitution. It is not till the people make a demonstration of
their force and determination that any concession is yielded, and
thea the concession is timid^ partial, and temporizing. But this

of Trawllerf in Turkey, IQQ

i$ only what is done hy the more prudent statesmen. Most mea
in that station consider prudence and forethought as weaknessea
unworthy of the disposers of the powerful machinery of modera
Bttropean gofemments. The people are maddened by resistance,
nftsh on with blind fury, and destroy. Then we have M. Mi-
chaud's revolution. In Turkey, the government is the leader and
director of the people. M. Michaud observed as much in a pas*
aage in the fifth volume of his Crusades : he designates it, ^' as the
generalized expression of the national will"* — ^^M'expression de
tootes les volont^s" — and therefore placed in opposition to every
organized body whose existence is incompatible with the welfare
of the people. We have seen that the people passed sentence on
tbe military oligarchy before the sultan carried it into execution*
B«it this, in a manner, civilized revolution, was confined to the
capital, and to the capital alone. In the provinces, where the
people, from not having seen so many Franks, we suppose, were
still barbarians, the revolution was carried on strictly acc<Nding to
tbe maxims and practice of barbarism. We have before us an
account of the manner in which the extinction of the janizary
body was managed at Trebizond, furnished by the French con*
aol, which may illustrate our meaning. The pasha of that
province received orders to put down the janizaries there. He
bad no force at his disposal to -coerce them. What did he do?
He assembled the principal men among them — informed them
of what had taken place at Constantinople — confessed he had
not tbe means of putting them down by force. *' But,*' said
be, ^ the orders I have received from my imperial master are
imperative; I cannot disobey him: if you choose to resist, yoa
will render me your victim, but dread the vengeance that will
ensue.** On this the body of janizaries came to the resolution to
diasolve itself quietly ; and so effectually was it extinguished, and
its associations destroyed, that hardly two years afterwards, when
the Russians attempted to resuscitate the Janizary feeling, they
utterly failed. Turkey, then, having got rid of this boSy^ every
other reform has been carried on by simple persuasion, by appeal*
ing to the good sense of the people ; and there is no instance of
a judicious reform having miscarried.

Now what were the reforms that M. Michaud had as much an
opportunity of observing as ourselves? In the first place, we
observe the sultan abolishing the cumbrous court ceremonial,
introduced in later times and copied from Byzantinef practice^

* Solcymcn granted the boonty to the Jantaries on the change of tbe saltan for the
porpose of predisposing them to niiseat the sovereign shoald he prove uwpaputar,

■f We have been thas careful in showing the connection between the abases !n
Turkbh and Bjjsantiue pnHStice, because there is scarcely an abase in Turicey that does

200 Character and Opihwns

no longer imnuring hioimefif or bis cfaitdren in the hanemybiit
placing biiDself <in a par with his subjects^ makiag bimaelf per*
aonally ac(}uainted with their feelings, wants, and complaints.
■• He had long felt the necessity of troops regsiiarly disctpHoed
by and dependent on the crown. This 'necessity was the more
nrgent, when the em^pire was depmed of those who Were nomi*
nally its defenders* It is tilie that they are disciplined and organ«
ized after the European fashion, but th^y tre not intended for
European porpose^, not to keep tbe people in swfajecdon, «ot to
fkirm a body of poiicci not to repress a revolutionary spirit and
aieelin^of discontent in tbe nation; for 40,000 men would be
hardly a match for 30 miHkyns of peopici if bent^on resisting,
and many of these, too, familiatized to tbe use .of arms; but as
means of discipline, in order the more readily to form an army,
wbenef er the Porf^ may find it necessary to oppose ber foreign
enemies:

Ht also found means to hold in check the pashas, who by gva*
dual usurpations had arrived at power, such as was formeily
wkMed by the Roman proconsuls. It was necessary tO' separate
the military -from the civil department. This was done by tbe'
institution of regular troops. Thus not only the-pretenoe was
tBikeo away from the pashas for surrounding ihemselvies 'with
aimed retainers paid by themselves, bnt also of detaining tbe
revenue levied in tbe proH^inoes to pay tltem, instead of transaait-
ting'itto the Porte. Tbe net^ssity of the pashas hating *oien in
arms, dependent immediately on tbenoselves, had induced tbem to
pursue plans of private ambition. Their feuds among themselves
endangeredthe peace 4of tbe commnnity and arrested the progresa of
tbcf empire* 1 o support the* expenses necessarily incurred there*
by; they taxed the pnyvinoesmore than the resources could bear.
The armed retainers too extorted from the peasantry, and tbus a
feeling of insecurity was spread through the country. But we
must caution our readers from being led to imagine that this state
of-tbing/in^ny wise resembled the state of things in Europe
during the feudal .trm^s. As a proof of this, the subjects of tbe
Porte were seldom brought to desert their homes and wander
info foreign lands, lio matter what might be tbe inducements held
ontto them to do so. ' In Turkey the degrading doctrine has
never been received bf looking on the cultivator of tbeaoilas

^HktfMi^^.

96t truce ihr origin >A\ttci1y io (tml degenemte government ; do one ihtt' did not arise
kiBWioqutiiceorilia Utvr «irfttns adopiii^ kt princfiplcf ; wliich wiUffppeBr to say
qnp Qo uf Ijiiog tiiem. Strange lafatuatioutken that tbe Koran aliould be called in to
account for them f ttany retigim is to bear the blame, we should say it was that spa-
zioctf ioiitatloD of Chrisliaoity, vrliich passes with w many for ChrlBtiaMiy itself.

o/* traifelkrs in Turk^. SOI

property; on the contrary, every man there is a proffieior. The
proTincial governor was held considerably in check by the free*
dom of the niuoicipaliues and by the popular organization.
Every order emanating from the Porte was received with pro-
found respect by the proudest pashas; and. not one, even, the
most powerful, could do other than bow his head to the bow-
string, as soon as the emissary of the Porte succeeded in sliowing
to him pablicly, or in the presence of* his servants, the sentence
of death pronounced against him and signed by the Sultan. No
subject of the Porte ever dared to entertain projects nuiitating
against its supremacy. Pashas disobeyed, though they never dis-
puted, the commands of the Sultan ; but, if they did, it was because
the will of the sovereign was not pronounced strongly or was not
aiade public.

A)l these abuses, however, were swept away by the mere t9lk^
blishment of organized troops. Subsequently, the power of life
and death was taken out of the hands of the provincial governtxrs,
and for some time their names were changed from Pashas, (vice-
roys) to Mousselims (civil governors), with less estenaive jurisdic*
tton, to break up the feelings of insubordiaalion aasooiated
with the name Pasha. And now, when this feeling has. been
effectually put an end to, whilst some districts are still consigned
to the charge of Mousselims, the more important provinces . ana
conBded to Pashas, whose character has undergone a considerable
change. We of course except Mohammed Ali^-^the creature
and tool of foreign intrigue, and whose power is rapidly on the
wane.

The several enactments for putting an end to the feeling of supe*
riority, so long inherent in the mind of the Tujrk, would bavie that
effect in no country but amongst a people so dooile, so easily led
by right reason, as the Turks.

But what are the effects? The Chiistians of all denominations
are now the most arched subjects of the Sultan. The Hospo*
dars of Servia, WaflRhia, and Moldavia, the two latter the nomi-
nees of Russia, placed there for Russian purposes^ and wbon
Russia would persuade us to consider as her adherents, partly
induced by the conciliatory tone which the Porte has been able
to assume, partly from the jealousy and fear of Russia, look wiih
attachment and affection to the Porte. Egypt, Greece,' Syriaj
and Candia, which European diplomacy has severed from Turkey,
aigh to return to their former allegiance. Tripoli and Tunis,
formerly merely nominal dependencies, have of their own accord
sought the protection of the Porte. Shall we hear any more of
the decrepitude of Turkey, when she merely p«t fortli her hand

MS Ckaraetir and Opimom

and anneied tbeae cKaUuit provinces to her empire?* But how
the internal condition of the country has been ameliorated may
be seen by the unexampled increase of the import and export
trade ff by her having exported com to Odessa during the year of
famine, 1834, whereas Turkeyformerlyimported corn from Odessa;

* The faulU «nd errors cominittod at Tripoli are quite another thing* We are dealiog
with feelings and bahits eitabllshed hj the practice of centuriei. The errors of Torksy
now are more our fault thaii her*s.

t " DoriDg th« same time (from 18S7 to 18S4) cii oar esports to Tnrkey, tiiUi
Bcareely a single eKeptioo, haTe increased in a most astonishing manner, to wit:—

^ Manufactured cotton has» during seven years, increased • • 13S per oout
* Earthenware .. .. ditto .. ditto .. 137 ditto.
Reflned sugar .. ditto .. ditto .. 170 ditto.
Woollen manafactures . . ditto . . ditto • • SS5 ditto*
Iron and steel •• •• ditto •• ditto •• 150 ditto-
Hardware and cutlery • • ditto .. ditto .. 118 dittOl

Pepper ditto ditto •• 150 ditto.

Run ditto •. ditto .. 10S6 ditto.

(vis. from 8539 gallons to 97408.)

Indigo • . . . . • . . has incrensed . • 1067 ditto*

(vis. fiorn 13,053 lbs. to 159.430 lbs.)

Cassia lignea has increased . • 834 ditto«

Cloves ditto •• 439 ditto.

Cochineal ditto .. S846 ditto.

(vis. iirom 130t lbs. to 38,357 lbs.)

' Sugar luiRfined haaincnased •• 661 ditt«.

'* The eaport trade to Turkey has increased at a rate so npid, that» althoogh in tStT

its value was only 30 per cent, in comparisen to that of Russia, it became almost equal in
the year 1834, being then 87 per cent With such a tendency to increase, it is difficult
to ibretell what estension this esport trade might attain, were we to adopt such com-
mercial regulations as, instead of repressing, might encourage our trade with Turl^y. It
must also be remembered that our trade with Turkey is rarried on entirely in our ewn
bottoms, whereas that with Russia is divided with foreign ships. The tatrle relating to
shipping shows a decrease of British tonnage employed in the Russian trade, amoant-
ing to no less than 100,000 tons. Oar ships, too. go lig|it to Russia, to fetch tl« pro-
duce of that country ; but they go to Turkey laden with our manufactures or colonial
produce. Moreover, the voyage beins longer, the Turkey trade must be more ad-
nmtogeoas to the sfaippieg interest. Why then does not our government, vrhidi pn>-
fcsees and eaanot but feel a saticitade for the mdependenoa and stobility of tlie TarUsli
empire, adopt a system, which, by augmenting the riches and the power of tiiat state*
would so puwcrfully contribute to those results, while it would, at the same time, pro-
mote the interests of Great Britain ?

" However stron|^ the proof afforded by the above attracts of the increase of onr
trade with Turkey, it must be observed that the picture which those extracts present b
sdll far below the troth ; of course, only those goods which are shipped on board vessels
which dear for Turkey form items in Uie tables ; but the fsct is, that a vast aBBooat of
goods is eiported to Turkey in vessels whi<^ clear for different ports in tlic Meditcr*
ranean and the Levant, whieh oonseouently does not appear in the tables ^ the oame
observation will apply to the table of shipping. It roust also be kept in mind that a
large portion of the demand for British wares at the fairs of Germany is from the pro-
vinces of Torkey bordering on the Anstriandominioiis, and that that trade, and the trade
even with Asiatic Turkey, has at all times increased vei^ considerably the apMrent
amount of our eiportation to Germany." — Appendix to Lord DudUy Stuart's SpHck

and hy the increase of the revgDue*-*<for» the taxes being direel,
the .revenue could not iucrease unleas the egricukural resoureea
had beea developed in the same proportion*

There is one feature in this course of reform^ or, if M. Michaud
will have it) revolution, which enables us to judge of the naturo
of the Sultan's power* which shows us that he is powerless (unless
Russia succeeds) when he opposes public opinion, and that he
only possesses that irresistible power which Europeans misname
despotism, when he leads national opinion. This feature is the
instrument employed in carrying the later reforms into effect*
We before mentioned that M. Blacque had been invited to Con*
stantinople, to assist in the establishment and superintendence of
a government Gazette. His coadjutor is one of the highest
dignitaries among the Ulema. This journal is printed in French,
that facts relative to the Turkish government may be known in
Europe ; and in Turkish, that the subjects of the Sultan may
learn hi^ acts and intentions.

The government employes are praised or blamed as the govern-
ment conceives each merits, and the effects are such as may be
expected from men who are extremely sensitive to both, and
whose ideas are simple and unsophisticated* When any indivi*
dual is promoted or disgraced, the reason is assigned. But,
above all, the Sultan, by giving publicity to his projects, preserves
himself from being misrepresented, and allows his measures to be
discussed* The pulse of the public is felt, and thereby he learns
what measure is judicious, what not* In this paper are pub-
lished the firmans of the Sultan. These are vyritten by himself.
On their style M, Michaud makes the following remarks in a
letter on Turkish literature : —

'* Wben we speak of the literature of the Osmanlis, it would be nn«
jast to pass over in silence many documents emanating from their
chancellerie. We remark the purest eloquence in a firman — ^a hatti*
aberiff-^a manifesto—end even in a diplomatic note. The Turks always
mix up religion and morals with their affairs. It is this that gives to
their political language a character of nobleness and dignity not to be
found in those emanating from European governments. Nothing can
be conceived more eloquent than the greater part of the discourses and
firmans which accompanied the destruction of the janizaries.*'

We shall incidentally remark, that the firmans of Sultan Mah-
moud are written in the same spirit that characteriies those
of all his ancestors. Those simple and touching appeals to
the principles on which are founded all natural rebgion and
morals, are according to a custom handed down amongst the

* See England, France, Roisia and Turkey, p. 101-^107*

204 Character and Opinions

Turks from time immemorial. Had M. Mfchand reasoned on
the style > ia which the firmans were wrtlten by Kiiidgi-Aralaii^
Malek Shah, Noarreddin, and all the Turkish princes cotem-
porary with the Crusaders, what would have become of bis
asflertioDs, ^' that the Turks were incapable of appreciating any
thing great or noble ?*'*-*that " their religion and habits rejected
all civitization and enlightenment.^"

But the most remarkable difference relative to the firmans of
Mahmond is, that universal publicity is given to them ; whereas
those of his predecessorsi except on occasions of gteat interest,
were known only to a few. Thus, the reforms of theSuhan stand
in proud contrast with the reforms of the monarchs of the l6tb
centary. They overthrew internal abuses by an appeal to the
sword ; he, in a manner worthy of an age that advocates to itself
die peculiar attribute of light, principally by an appeal to public
opinion. Thu«, M. Michaud may see, that this revolution has
not been effected without the aid of publicity, although there may
be ** no tribunes and orators,*— no journals and pamphlets, pub-
lishing contradictory opinions and statements,-^nt) elections to
render the piublic mind still more confused and distracted."
'' Madness does not seek toiuflame itself with its own harangues,"
because there is no occasion. The system of government is sim-
ple and intelligible, and popular opinion undivided.

lu Europe the reverse is the case. The system of government
is complicated, and opinions and interests are arrayed against each
other. Commerce and industry are sacrificed by financial arrange-
ments, and the necessaries of life, and consequently labour, are
enhanced in price by artificial regulations, rf or is it a,ny easy
matter to depart from this system when once entered on, however
iiicoropatible with the common welfare. On the faith of such
enactments property has been embarked, and a sudden repeal of
them is an act of injuistice and spoliation. European govern-
ments, having been led by visionary and baseless theories into
meddling with the material interests of mankind — having been
mad enough to interfere with the conditions on which their sub-
jects eat, are clothed, and gain their livelihood — must expect all
the natural results of suqh a course, viz. that the sufferers should
be driven to crime, to evade their unjust and injurious legisla-
tion;'*^ that their tardy attempts at retrograding should not suit the
impatience of a people individually progressing in light, science,

* The Third Report on the Poor of IreUod has just appenrod : it proaenti U8 with
Uie finghtfal picture of a third of the whole popuktion in a atate of paoperiin ; and
eitimilestbet anm.reqomlc t» iiffdijid the dMlit«ie^. per diem at ti#o»titlnlBrof the
net rental, and at one- fourth more than the tevenne irf the cmmtry 1 The Gottinsiiooeis
recommeod boardt to rectify this state of things!

of TfWMXUt% in Turkey. d05

and power ; but tbat thej should have recourse to a thousand wild
expedieRts to rid themselves o( the chain tbat galls them, which
they feel but cannot see. Amidst such distraction it is natural
tbat faction should raise its voice; that people should listen to any
demagogue who speaks plausibly and promises them a speedy re-
dress of Uieir grievances; till, at last^ at the bidding of such a one
they madly rush to harness themselves to the car of revolutiou,
which rolls along amidst popular clamours, for the encouragement
of those engaged in the work of destruction, and to drown the
cries of the victims crushed beneath its wheels* At such a state
however England has not yet arrived ; though we see the effects of
legislative interference with commerce on opinion and on ouir
social state. On this subject we extract the words of a most im-
pressive writer:*

''When oar unfbrtmiate countrymen were confined in the Black
Hole of Calcutta, they cooiplaioed of intense thirstt and the prison re-
sounded with the cries of * Water! water!' Water was given, hut it
iDcreased their sufieruigs, the thing they wanted wius not water bat air.
Behold an exact picture of England! We are suffering from the effects
of caged competition^ Already wrought up to agony, some of the vic-
tims demand * One pound notes^' others ' ten shuliug guineas!' Others,
the incurably mad, propose that more bolts be placed on the prison door.
But the thing wanted is * Bread,' in exchange for woollens, cottons, and
hardware ; and no other thing can supply the want of that one thing
auy more than water could supply the want of air in the Black Hble of
Calcotta.

The late Turkish ambassador, on his return to Constantinople,
was asked by the Sultan what was the causa of the pauperism
which be understood to prevail to such an alarming extent in
England. He stated six different opinions oh the subject, all of
which appeared so unsatisfactory to the Sultan, that he reproached
the ambassador for not having inquired the reason from some of
the most enlightened and best informed Englishmen. What was
his astonishment, when the Pasha replied that the different opi-
nions he had stated, no one of which satisfied his Highness, and
which he acknowledged were contradictory to one another, were
however diose severally entertained by the most eminent English
politicians, and stated to him in answer to his questions !

We are much iu want of a work on England or on Europe

^ The extract is from tlie notes to the Poems of Mr. Elliot. This powerful writer
long ago i«w that, if Parliament would persist in legislating for the people's bread,
anarchy and ooowlsion woidd be the comeqoenee; that Engiaiid would be depresied
in the scale of naUons) and that, on the ruins of ber power, Russia would erect an
empire destruolif e to tba iibertiet of maBkind. Tbise cKtraordimny tfaooghts he bat
elotbsd kk the Iw^usgeof kaputiautd poetry*

Q06 Charaeter and Opinions

written by a Turk. Wc have never conversed with a Turk who
bad resided for some time in Europe without feeling how exceed-
ingly amusing and how deeply instructive such a work would be.
But we despair of seeing it done in our day. If Turkey is pre-
served from Muscovite discipline, the next generation will witness
a great change of position, policy and opinions from the fusion of
the East and the West. This can be the work of time alone. An
immense deal has indeed been eiFected within the space of the
last two years towards the extirpation of mutual prejudices; but
the examination of points which lie so deep in the breast of man
and in the foundations of society is not the labour of a day, and
must await the chance of powerful genius and profound research
coinciding in the investigation.

Not being able to follow M. Michaud through his six volumea»
we take leave of him here. His letters were written id 1830 and
S\, and published in the years 1833, 34, and So, during which
period circumstances occurred in the Turkish empire, which re-
futed the generality of his statements and belied all his anticipa-
tions. We thank him, however^ for having published them exactly
as they were at 6rst written, because they show the public how
qualified travellers are to judge of such a subject. We under-
stand that, since he published these volumes, he has somewhat
modified his opinions respecting some parta of the Turkish sy»>
tern. Whether our ioformatioo be correct or not, cectain it is,
that, in a published letter, written after having paid a visit to
the prisoners confined in the castle of Ham, be connects old
Turkish principles with civilization in a most extraordinary man-
ner. After stating that he had observed in Turkey the absence
of all state criminals ; that no one there was immuned for politi-
cal offences ; that, in fact, there were no state-prisons, and that
the longest imprisonment was for a few days: — " Stranee/' says
be, " if France has to learn a lesson of civilization from Turkey !*'

And, lest national vanity should lead the French to reject a
civilization ** coming from the Turks," we will remind them
that whatever lesson they might derive from a study of Turkey
was suggested to them long ago, by a statesman of their own,
whom they have hitherto shown themselves little capabjfe of ap-
preciating— the philosophic Turgot.

We cannot conclude this article without reference to that
question which renders the state of Turkey at the present mo-
ment one of such vital importance to Great Britain, viz. the pro-
gress of Russia towards its final subjugation. That progress has
hitherto been triumphant solely by the misdirection aiven to Eu-
ropean policy^ in consequence of the errors into which European

^ Tractlkn tn Twhty. t07

opinioo has been led* That opinion baa been drawn from the
false observation of travellers^and no such powerful auxiliaries have
the projects of Russia ever obtained,. as the flippant ramblers
belonging to our great neighbour. The French press has teemed
with tours in the East, and we know not of one single French
tourist who has not invoked the destruction of the Ottoman empire
for the progress of civilization!*

'* Latterly," says Michaad, *' it has been much the fashion to talk of
the ambitious projects of Russia. We are reminded of the policy of
Catherine. I camiot examine all these projects in a single letter. I
shall confine myself to a single consideration drawn from the character
of the Turks. It is not enough to conquer a country, but tbere must
be a possibility of governing it. Now the greater part of the Mussul-
man population would not fail to abandon a country where the Crescent
is not predominant ^ or, suppose the Osmanlis do not quit Tuikey when
subjugated by Russia, what is to be made of a people indolent, Uuy^ poor^
amdalwafs ready to revolt ? Can one believe that the Czar desires to add
to the wildernesses he has already ) or that he dreams of extending his
dominions over people whom be caa iieivr auodate m kis duigHs aor
submit to his laws ? The Greeks will remain, but will they be enough to
people the country, or will they be better subjects } Every thing con-
sidered, I conceive there is greater glory in protecting, or rather letting
Uve^f) an old empire, than profit in conquering. The accord ofcabs"
nets (/) is sufficient to protect Turkey from foreign invasion. But
what causes of disorganization and ruin in Turkey itself !*' He then pro-
ceeds to say, that the reforms ** endanger the stability of the empire,
and ran the risk of breaking the ties that attach the sultan to his people,
the people to their sovereign. Sioeular nation ! " exclaims he, pathett-
cally^ *' on the eve of perishing and refusing aid ; willing to endure nei-
ther the disease, nor the remedy, nor the physician ; barbarous, fanaticali
blind I In order that it should respect a government, the government
must respect itself. The fall of the Ottoman empire/' he concludes,
''will violently shake and convulse the East and the West; I therefore
hope it will survive."

Beside this extract we place the following from Count Pozzo
di Borgo, extracted from No. 7 of the Portfolio.

'' When the Imperial Cabinet examined the ouestion, whether it had
become expedient to take up arms against the Fortes m eonsequence of

* A work hu just reached as entitled " Guerre ou Pais en Orient," by a Saint
SimoDian. It calls on Rusua to march to the £ast, and proposes a treaty — to secure
to bcr, inttr alia, " la joatssance de la Mer Xoire, la sacerainet6 sur Constantinople
ec Bar cctte portie de TAsie Mineure, od domioe aojoord'hoi sua inflaenoe." This woik»
which is wholly in the Eosaan interest, admits neverthelesi the reaction of opinion which
we hare pointed out. " L'influence russe/' says he, " a I'air de s*effaccr dans Tem-
pire Ottoman aupr^s de rinflaence Anglaise. ... La race Ottomane, si profond^ment
haisilite il J a trois ans, a £iit effort tYcc qaelque iucces poor u*ktn pouit pUaement
absorb^e.'*— p. ll«v

208 Character and Opimon$

the provocatJODs of the Sultan,* there might have existed some donAti pf
the urgency of this measure ia the eyes of those wiko had not sufficienibf
reflected upon the effects of the sanguinary reforms, which the Chief of the
Ottoman empire has just executed with such tremendous violence, and
also upon the interest with which the consolidation of that empire inspired
the cabinets of Europe in gefieral, and more especially those which toere
less disposed towards Russia: the experience we have just made mcst

NOW REUNITE ALL OPINIONS IN FAVOUR OF THE RESOLUTION WHICH HAS

BEEN ADOPTED. The Empcror has put the Turkish system to the prorf,
and his Majesty has found it to possess a commencement of physical <md
moral organization which it hitherto had not.-^ If the Sultan has been
enabled to offer us a more determined and regular resistance^ whilst he
had scarcely assembled together the elements of his new plan of reform
and ameliorations, how formidable should we have found him, had he
had time to give it more solidity, and to render that barrier impene-
trable which we find so much difficulty in surmounting, although art
has hitherto done so little to assist nature ! j;

*' Things being in this state, we must congratulate ourselves upon hav-
ing attacked them before they became more dangerous for us, for delay
would only have rendered our relative situation worse, and prepared us
greater obstacles than those with which we meet.

" If required to add another proof of this truth, I would seek it in the
whole tenor, and in the views contained in the confidential note of the
Impefial ministry. Far from lowering the demands and conditions of
the peace, I have seen with lively satisfaction that it augments them,

* " See the Quarterly Review, No. CV., for a laOiiuous exposure of as much of
the art as then had been laid bare, by which Russia brought aboHt the war ; after
driving Greece into iuiorrection ; the Porte into a seven years war wit]i it, — after
causing England and France to destroy Turkey's principal means of defence against
the North — her Beet, and after causing them to declare war virtually by withdrawing
their ambassadors ; and this is termed, in the familiar dialogues of the cabinet of St. Pe»
tersburgh, the provocation of the Sultan ! The following passage will be read with the
deepest inteiest — it indicates the real cause of the war hitherto unsuspected.^-Eo.**

f " The destruction of the Janissaries and Ddre Beys, who might be compared to
what the Indian Zemindars would be with a weak central government, are memorable
efforts of self-regeneration, which, if Turkey b$ preMerved, will immortalise the reign of
Blahmoud, and render it one of the most important in the history of mankind. * '
* * * If the Sultan could be brought justly to appreciate his own position, the
merits of his nation, and the faults of his government, he could, by a mere dedara*
tion of his enlightened will, effect such a revolution in the fortunes of Turkey as no
empire has ever undergpne. In fact, the destruction of the Janissaries leaves Turkey,
politically, in tlie state in which slie was, with precisely the same extent of territory,
as under Soleyman the Magnificent, excepting foreign influence over her councils.*'—
England, France, Rutsia, and Turkey, 62 — 64.

t " Her allies will always find her ready to concert her march with them in the
execDtton of the Treaty of London ; and ever anxious to aid in a work, which her
religion, and all the sentiments honourable to humanity, recommend to lier active so-
licitude : always disposed to profit by her actual position, only for the purpose of
accelerating tlie accomplishment of the clauses of the treaty of the 6th of July, not to
change their nature or effects." — Rtusian Declaration of War, April f6, 18f8.

" Russia has remained constantly a stranger to every desire of cooqo^— to evtry
yiew of aggrandisement" — RuMian Manifesto, let Octeoer, 1829.

of Trdntlkn in Turkey. 209

after the campaign has afforded it a more correct estimate of the real
state of thiogs, and has convinced it of the necessity of multiplying pre-
cautions^ in order to diminish the dangers of the future,'^

On thia deeply important document the editor of the Portfolio
makes the following observatioDs, with which we conclude for the
present :*-

'' Compare the views of the cabinet of St. Petcrsburgh, of the nature
and tendency of the regenerating movement in Turkey, and of the re-
forms of the Sultan— with those of tourists and travellers — not then —
DOW eight years ago, but up to the present hour ! Compare them with
official reports and official opinions, addressed to and emanating from
England and France!— but observation or remark is superfluous. This
despatch settles the question of Turkish regeneration. — It has thrown
a new light upon Russian intelligence and upon Russian policy; and cast
a deeper shade on the incapacity, the ignorance^ and subserviency of the
cabinets of Europe.

" We cannot conclude these observations without calling attention to
the antt- social spirit that characterizes this remarkable document, and to
this anparalleled exposure of the destructive principle, which facts had
sufficientl|r proved already to be the leading feature of the policy of St.
Petersburgh. It is really mockery to talk of the peace and progress of
Europe, when the greatest event of the last twenty years — when the
sole great European war that has occurred during that period, has been
undertaken for the purpose of arresting a great and wonderful move-
ment of internal and peaceable amelioration. What must be the posi-
tion of Russia, when she must treat national regeneration as a hostile
principle ! — what the state of the intelligence of Europe, when it is tn-
debted to the disclosure if a secret document for the knowledge of Russia's
motives — and that eight years after the event r

Art. X. — England im Jaftre 1835. Von Friedricb von Rau-

mer. 2 vols. Berlin. 1835.

The Letters of M. von Raumer, written during his six months'
visit to England last year, are already so generally known, that
some of our readers may perhaps be inclined to think that we
might dispense ourselves from noticing them. The name of the
author having become familiar to the literary world here by his
great work on the House of HohenstauiFen^ of which we gave
an extended review in our sixth number, and by his historical
illustrations of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, much in-
terest was naturally excited by his visit to this country, and by the
avowed object of it — to explore the treasures of the British
Museum, the State Paper Office, &c. for the purpose of collect-
ing materials towards a history of modern Europe, of which seve-
ral volumes hud already been published. His official recommen-

VOL. XVII. NO. XXXIII. V

210 Raunier*^ England in 1835.

dations introduced him at once into the highest ranks of society,
and his own character procured him easy access wherever he de-
sired it, so that he possessed opportunities of seeing and hearing,
which few foreigners enjoy in the same proportion. As it was
known, even while he was still here, that he would publish an
account of his visit, and that arrangements had been made for its
appearance in an English translation, and his declared opinion of
the state and prospects of the country being highly favourable,
the promised translation was impatiently expected, and we hate
reason to believe that it was much wished that it should appear
before the opening of parliament. As the translation is published,
and copious extracts in different journals have contributed to
make the work known, we shall not fill our pages with long quo-
tations, but rather give a few general remark? upon it, and especi-
ally on some points on which the author's views do not coincide
with our own.

In the first place, it is evident that the immense masa of new
facts and new impressions oppresses the author — if we may use
such an expression in speaking of such a man. The tone of
pleasantry, which elsewhere relieves the patient explorer of the
mines of learning, under the pressure of ponderous folios, is
nearly banished from these Letters; and the author himself indi-
cates the point of view in which we are to consider this new pro-
duction of his indefatigable activity. " Accounts from England
■must differ, both in tone and contents, from accounts from Paris."
In fact, these English Letters are as unlike his mudi-talked-of
Letters from Paris in 1830, as the present state of England is un-
like that of France at the time alluded to. A remarkable pecu-
liarity in these Letters is the absence of private anecdote and per-
sonal detail. The English reader, indeed, will not find it difficult
to fill up most of the names, of which only the initials are given;
and will feel grateful to the author for having abstained from any-
thing like scandal or mere gossip, and for endeavouring to impress
on his countrymen the decided conviction, which fills his own
mind, of the moral and political greatness of the British empire.
When we find that he wrote all these letters and political essays,
(often of considerable length, and the result of much study and
research,) in England itself — that, besides visiting and observing
everything remarkable, he was daily at dinners and evening par-
ties, at the theatre, concerts, the parliament houses, on excursions
to the country, studying the English character as exhibited in the
modes of life of all classes, we cannot but admire the economy of
his time and his activity, especially when we see him day after
day in the Museum and State Paper Oflice, sedulously collecting
materials for new works, among which are a history of Mary

Jlaunicfr'j England in 1835. 21 1

Queen of Scots and Elizabeth, and a history of Frederick II. of
Prussia* As during his stay in London he obtained access,
through his recommendations, to all circles, from the saloons of
the Duke of Devonshire and the Marquis of Lansdowne to the
tables of simple shopkeepers — visiting Sir R. Peel in the morn-
ing and O'Connell in the afternoon — so, on his tour through Eng-
land to Wake6eld, Sheffield, Leeds, York, 8cc. to Scotland,
thence to Ireland, and back to Liverpool, Manchester, Birming-
ham, Oxford, &c., where he explores the immense ateliers of
Eoglish manufacture, we find the same spirit of observation, the
same desire inopartially to do justice to all parties.

As M. von Raumer arrived in England only a fortnight before
the resignation of Sir R. Peel and his colleagues, his official
recommendations naturally brought him chiefly into contact with
the Whig party. Lord John Russell, Mr. Spring Rice, (with
whom he had frequent interviews,) &c. We cannot, therefore, be
much surprised, if he has adopted, in general, their opinions on
many subjects — that he condemns the king's sudden dismissal of
the Melbourne Administration, after the death of Lord Spencer
• — that he highly approves of the Reform Bill and the Municipal
Corporation Bill — that he advocates the admission of Dissenters
to the English universities — that he would have no difference
whatever made between the followers of various religious sects and
the Church of England-— and, especially, that he *would have the
Catholics in Ireland placed on a precisely equal footing with the
Protestants.

Ireland, indeed, and its wrongs, is a fruitful and often-recurring
theme in these Letters ; and the account given by the author of
what he saw and felt in that country shows, in a very affecting light,
the misery of the wretched population; and, the existence of this
misery being generally allowed, the question remains, how is it to
be remedied ? On a question so difficult of solution, the opinion
of a foreigner, however able and learned, cannot be expected to
have much weight; but there is, we believe, little difference of
opinion on the necessity of substituting for tithes some other mode
of remunerating the clergy* With respect to the real causes of
the agitation diat disturbs the peace of Ireland, we are convinced
that religious motives have nothing whatever to do with its origin;
it is, in its essence, its objects, and its means, wholly political,
enveloped by artful and factious priests in the mantle of what
they are pleased to call religion, but which they take good care to
hinder their wretched dupes from examining by the light of divine
truth,'-^which they studiously veil in impenetrable gloom. Till
those men are put down, there will be no peace or prosperity for
Ireland. Among the remedies which the author proposes for the

p 2

?

£ 1 2 Raumer's England in 1 835.

relief of Ireland, some, such as the introduction of poor laws, and
a commutation of tithes, will doubtless be adopted, and it may be
expected that they will be beneficiaU He proposes, also, a heavy
tax on absentees, ^' the complete abolition of the system of tenants
at will, and the conversion of all such tenants into proprietors," a
proposal, he says, '' which will make the Tories throw his book
into the fire, and strike the Whigs dumb with astonishment*"

M. von Raumer frequently recurs to the necessity of educating
the Irish. We have " granted twenty millions/' he says, *' to abolish
slavery, and to secure freedom to some hundreds of thousands ;
yet, to apply any part of the revenue of the Church or State to
iving a sound and religious educatiou to five or six millions of
rish, is called impious and revolutionary*" Begging M. von
Raumer's pardon, this is not the question; but what ought a
Protestant government to consider as a sound and religious edu*
cation, and would the Catholic priests permit their flocks to par*'
take of it i The English government has endeavoured, it is true,
to obviate part of this difficulty, by taking a middle; course, and
establishing schools, in which selecl portions only of the Bible
shall be read; but this plan does not appear to have had the
success that was expected from it; and it is, besides, seriously ob-
jected to by many persons whose opinions are entitled to respect.

The objections to the admission of Dissenters to OjiCbrd and
Cambridge haVe been so often and ably discussed, that it would
be a work of supererogation in us to enter 4>n it, even did our
space allow it. Weref all sects admitted, we do not see bow they
could all atteud divine worship, or receive instruction in religion,
unless of the most general kind, as there could be neither profes-
sors nor chapeb for all the various shades of religious opinions.

Another point, in which we partly differ from M. von Raumer,
is his idea respecting the observance of the Sabbath. We, indeed,
agree with him in deploring the desecration of that Holy Day by
the vice of drunkenness, but cannot lament that singing, dancingi
music, and the theatre, are not allowed on that day ; nor can we
assent to his opinion, that Sunday is so dull as he considers it. In
opposition to his opinion, we hope we shall gratify our readers by
giving them an extract from the remarks of that eminent scholar
and excellent men, the late Professor Niemeyer, Chancellor of the
University of Ilalle, who visited England in the year 1819*

" Almost all travellers protest that nothing is more melancholy than
the observance of Sunday in England. They assure us that everything
seems dead, and that every sound of joy becomes mute. They pity the
people who are denied every innocent pleasure, and extol the happiness
of other countries where this restraint is unknown. I candidly confess
that the English Sunday has not appeared to me so dull and so joyless ^

Raumer'5 Etiglmd in 1835. 216

nay, that I even reckon several Sundays passed there among my most
agreeable recollections, and cannot refrain from expressing the wish, that
we might have among ourselves something more of what we there find,
in families as distinguished for intellectual endowments, as respectable
for their character. I do not address those whom a religious feeling
causes to regard as sinful the most innocent occupation, and who think they
ought to keep the Sabbath more in the spirit of the Old Testament than
of the Christian religion ; but those wh'o would wish that a certain har-
mony might be observed among us also here in Germany, in the employ-
ment of Sunday. I foresee that many readers will be of a different
opinion. Hut how is it possible that all people should be of one mind }

" It is not to be denied that the difference between the six week-days
and this seventh is more striking in England than anywhere else. It is
as if a long continued ebb had set in, which would be followed by no
flood ; or, as if animated life had quitted the streets and public places,
and retired to the back part of the dwellings; or, as if every one breathed
more softly, to recover from the fatigues and exertions of a restless activily.
The latter is really the case. In this respect alone, the law, which com-
mands repose from usnal employment, is a real blessing for thousands of
people, who have borne for six days together the burden and heat of the
day, or in the bustle of worldly concerns have not been able to rest them-
selves, or hold intercourse with their family ; and that is accomplished
which the ancient Mosaic institution of the Sabbath had for its object,
Exodus, xxiii. 12. On Saturday, when the clock strikes the midnight
hour, the curtain in the theatre must be let down, and it is not drawn up
again till Monday. Those shops only in which the indispensable neces-
saries of life are sold are open ; all others are closed throughout the day,
and the shop windows being covered with painted shutters, the city
assumes quite a different aspect. Where the law, originating in ancient
times in religious dissension, is observed in all its rigour, even large enter-
tainments, card parties, and private concerts are avoided, and no work
done. The streets, however, begin to be animated between ten and
eleven, when divine service is about to commence. The number of well-
dressed persons repairing to church increases in all the streets — the
citizens, for the most part, husband and wife together, and the children
before them, with the Book of Common Prayer and their Bibles in their
hands. The churches being so numerous in all parts of the city, the
masses soon divide ; and here, as well as elsewhere, some places of wor-
ship are more crowded than others. Some of the churches in particular,
where evening service is performed, (beginning at six o'clock,) are so
exceedingly crowded, that any one coming in late can scarcely obtain a
seat, howev^ willing the pew-opener may be to procure him one,

" He who does not consider the theatre, balU, and game* for money,
as indispensable^ in order to he*happy or to keep off ennui, in whom those
Artificial pleasures have not blunted a taste for the scenes of nature and
tbe pleasures of cheerful society, I really know not what should hinder
<uch a man from spending his Sunday agreeably, either in or out of
London. I at least have seen, on fine Sundays, the roads almost more
thronged with carriages and pedestrians than during the week. The

214 Raumer^j England in IQ36.

Tbames was covered with boats, conTeyiog numeraas partiet 16 the
bcaatiful places^ couDtry seats, &c. on its banks. * a * Maoy indaed,
both high and low, who go into the country on a Sunday^ do not readily
neglect to attend the village churches, before the doon of which yoa
may often see whole rows of carriages from the neighbourhood^ — hut
then they enjoy the remainder of the day in the open country or in the
elegant environs of their houses. * * Further, it is true, they do mi
go in England. Even he who perhaps has religion less at heart tban
the preservation of certain national customs^ requires that Sunday aAatf
maintain its peculiar character, and that there shall not be too glaring
a contrast between its principal destination and the employmeoi of
the remaining hours of the day. Thus, for instance, every true fiogliah-
man would consider it a most indecent contrast, if Uie same parents who
had in the morning gone to church with their children, and there per*
baps heard a sermon on modesty and decorum, could go with them in
the evening to the theatre, and there see some laughable farcct or such
luscious scenes, drawn after nature, as we find represented in some of
our favourite pieces, to the eyes of our youth of both sexes. But so
ought, in reason, every one to think and feel, who does not regard
the whole of life as a farce. Truly, decorum often borders nearer than
we believe on moraUty.^*

M. von Raumer*s fifty-seventh letter on the difference between
the system of school education in England and Pnisdia is very
interesting, and points out the erroneous notions entertained by
some eminent men in England respecting the Prussian system;
he is particularly indignant at what he calls '' the calumnies of
Lord Brougham, who, had he looked beyond the title-page of
M. Cousin's work, would know that all he has said (in the Report
on the State of Education, 1834) was entirely visionary, and could
only serve to mislead those who believe him/' In his remarks
upon the schools, M. von Raumer argues on the facts which be
finds stated in parliamentary and other documents, to show how
little is done in England for the education of all classes, in com-
parison with Prussia. No country in the world possesses so
many ancient, venerable institutions for education as England,
and yet, with proportiouably the amplest means, the least is done.
He is much struck with Oxford, " in which city, full of the noblest,
the most astonishing monuments of an ancient period, almost every
thing modern is but an insignificant accessory/* Considering
what Oxford has been and still is, he proceeds to show what he
thinks it might and ought to be. The colleges are far inferior to
the German gymnasia, and the unii^ersity to those of Prussia;
their circle of study is too narrow, for the wants of modem
times: " some faculties, as medicine and jurisprudence, are,
properly speaking, entirely wanting in Oxford, and those of
divinity and philosophy are by no means completely filled, in
comparison with the German universities. The professors give

Raumer'i England in 1835. 215

so few lectures, and during so short a period of the year, that they
appear iu comparison with the colleges to be only a trifling addi-
tion and subordinate matter. No English university is a univtr^
sitas literaria, in the German sense of the term."

We agree with our author in thinking that advantageous
changes might be made in the system of university education,
even without violating the will of the founder, which, besides
that it does not strictly prescribe every thing, must in some cases
be understood according to his real meaning and intention. If
he directed, in the sixteenth century, that the best Greek gram-
noar then existing should be used, — will it be acting in conformity
with his wishes to retain it, after it has become the worst? But
It is equally wrong obstinately to abide by what is antiquated and
to indulge in rash innovations. If a judicious middle course be
adopted, general approbation will follow. The halls of Oxford
are founded for eternity, and the tenants will not suffer them-
selves to be expelled by the first new comer who might take a
fancy to erect in or near them a noisy machine. How then shall
the requisite improvements be effected i M. von Raumer thinks
that the legislature should interfere, — that no object of private
right or private property can be unconditionally withdrawn from
its power. Much, he thinks, might be done by the university
itself, and where it doubted its power to deviate from the will of
the founder, it might apply to the legislature to sanction the pro-
posed change.

We have dwelt on this particular subject, because it has by far
the most important claim to general attention. All parties will
agree that some education is necessary ; and though some would
restrict it within much narrower bounds than others, yet all desire
that a good system should be adopted. Our author is decidedly
adverse to the voluntary system, and considers k the duty of a
government to take on itself the care of providing the means for
a general education of the people, as is done in Prussia. How
far this could or should be done in England is a different ques-
tion, which is well worth the sincere consideration of every real
friend to the happiness and prosperity of his country.

In conclusion, we must repeat our admiration of the exemplary
activity of Professor von Raumer, his sense of justice, his varied
knowledge, and the clear insight which he shows into the mani-
fold subjects of which he treats. The English ought certainly to
be grateful to him, for having given to foreigners a highly favour-
able view of their country, their character, and manners, — for
having proved by irrefragable arguments, founded on facts that
cannot be disputed, that, far from hastening to inevitable decay,
it contains within itself the undying germs of constantly increasing

216 Raumer's Eusland in 1835.

d"

prosperity. If he at times points out defects which he thiaks
capable of remedy, or if he now and then touches too tender a
stringy let us listen to his counsels as to the voice of a friend who
wishes us well, even though he should be mistaken both in the
disease and the' remedy. Let us ascribe to the difference of
feeling, arising from a continental education, an occasional appa-
rent levity of expression, which, though not ill meant* is calcu-
lated to offend those whose views differ from his ; — with respect,
for instance, to the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church, of England,
which, even those who do not wholly approve of them, can never
look upon as fit to be lightly treated, involving, as they do, the
dearest interests of the Christian world.

In our review of M, von Raumer's ** Letters from Paris, illus-
trative of the History of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centu-
ries," (F. Q. R. No. XXIL p, 452,) we have adverted to his
great work, " The History of Europe during the last Three Cen-
turies." Of this work five volumes have already appeared. It
was intended to be completed in six, but as the fifth comes down
only to the year 16()0, it seems probable that it^will extend to at
least ten or twelve.

To the particulars of the author given in the number of our
Review just quoted, we may add that he is a man of highly inde-
pendent spirit, and considerable surprise was occasioned by bis un-
dertaking to write a History of the Fall of Poland, in which, though
he was receiving a salary from the state, he admitted that the
conduct of the Prussian government had been unjust. For the
• misfortunes of Poland he has always expressed the greatest sym-
pathy. Another proof of his spirit is his resignation of office,
when a member of the Supreme Board of Censorship, because he
disapproved the narrow views of his colleagues. On this occa-
sion be expressed his sentiments in an energetic remonstrance,
which, finding its way into the papers of South Germany, excited
particular attention. He has nevertheless always enjoyed the
favour of his sovereign, who has given him leave of absence for
his different journeys to France and England; and we learn that
his majesty has granted him permission to pay a second visit to
England, where he is expected to arrive about the end of April or
the beginning of May.

( 317 )

Art. XI. — 1 . Bericht iiber eine Reise nach den JVesllichen Staaten Nord-
AmerikaSi Sfc. von Gottfried Duden. (Account of a Journey into
the Western States of North America.) 1 vol. 8vo. Bonn, 1834.

52. Evrojpa und DcnUchland von Nord-Amerika aus betracktet : von
Gottfried Duden. (Europe and Germany considered from North
America.) 2 vols. 8vo. Bonn, 18S5.

Thouoh the first of these works is the account of a visit to the United
States, undertaken above ten years ago, and therefore cannot be ex-
pected to contain much that is now new, we are induced to notice it
lor several reasons. In the first place, it caused a very considerable
sensation in Germany on its first pubhcation soon after the Author's
return, a very large edition having been sold in a short time, and it
met in many instances with great opposition, and was very severely cri-
ticised. The author, whose object was to prove the great advantages
of emigration from Germany to America, was accused of having drawn
far too favourable a picture, and even of having falsified and misre-
presented facts, in order to promote the purpose he had in view. In
this second edition he has made considerable additions of a later date,
and has embodied in a preface the various criticisms on his work, the
most violent of which he reprints word for word, with his answers to
them, many of which show the critics in no very favourable light.
But what many may perhaps consider to be more in his favour^ is a
letter from the celebrated bbtorian Niebuhr, who, having seen, shortly
before bis death, a porticm of the second work, ** Europe and Ger-
many,'* wrote to him as follows :

" I am extremely obliged to you for the friendly communication of
the table of contents of your projected work. Even in the general
part, the plan of which you have specially stated, I see many points
touched upon, respecting which we agree in differing from the prevail-
ing opinion. But those which will be discussed in the following part
excite my expectation in a still higher degree, as your views proceed
from the same clear and unprejudiced observation^ the same love of
truth, and independence of spirk, which render your account of Ame-
rKa admirable, nay classic, and as the counsels founded upon your
vid^s will be suggested by your practical mind. May those plans of
colonization which we have often discussed be carried into effect, and
youi^deas be duly considered by those who have it in their power to
contri^mte to that object!*'

A testimony so honourable is more than sufficient to outweigh the
censures of a dozen such critics as those whose observations Duden
has himself quoted.

With respect to his own views, the author observes, that, notwith-
standing all that had been written on the subject of emigration to
America, the question was by no means so fully decided as to render
his undertaking superfluous, and that the information which he com-
inunicates is not a compilation from European or American books^
but the result of his own experience, which he recommends to the
attention of his countrymen. Speaking of the impartiality which

218 Duden'^ Europe and America.

some would require, he says, if the results of experience bear, more
or less, the stamp of the individual, this is particularly the case in
matters which so nearly touch upon human inclinations and aver-
sions, and all the wishes arising from them. Who will demand
a pure testimony from a prejudiced person, and who can pretend
to be unprejudiced on such a point? Who can believe hiraaelf to
be fully impartial, when he visits distant countries, lo decide the ques-
tion whether emigration is advisable ? Therefore, as perfect impar-
tiality is not to be conceived, the reporter has no other means, if he
wishes his opinions to have an effect corresponding with their value,
than first of all to acquaint his reader with the nature of his standard,
with the peculiarities of the intellectual eye with which he beheld the
subjects of which he treats.

** The resolution of separating from one's native country, and choosiog a
new home in a distant region, is (except in cases of imperative necessity, or of
enthusiasm), in civilized men the result of manifold thoughts and fedings.
It is clear enough that, in order to give advice in such a crisis, it is not suffi-
dent that the counsellor should have seen the country proposed for a new
home. He must above crtl things be able to judge of the situation of those who
require relief, and dulj^ to appreciate what part of the blame properly belongs
to the native country, in oroer that the important preliminary questioo may
be decided, whether any advantage is to be gained by a change of residence.

The author, considering the distress which undoubtedly afBicts part
of the inhabitants of Europe, and especially of Germany, persuaded
himself that it arose from excess of population, and that* it could not
be remedied, unless this population were reduced ; he saw that, as a
certain degree of population is indispensable for the development of
the individual and of the whole, so excess of population disturbs in a de-
plorable manner the state of civil society. The ancient states of Asia,
Africa and Europe, accordingly provided for the emigration of super-
fluous numbers, before individuals were compelled to it by famine.

Now though we might concede to those who hold the same opinions
as the author, first, that, if a country were really over-peopled, it might
be desirable, nay necessary, for part of the population to emigrate, and
secondly, that, such emigration being proved to be necessary, it woidd
be better that it should be undertaken on a fixed and well-regulated
plan^ rather than led to the unconnected operations of individuals ; we
are very reluctant to believe that ani/ country has yet such a super-
abundance of population, as to render expatriation absolutely necessary.
We are persuaded, on the contrary, that many, many years may yet elapse
before any part of Europe will be reduced to the melancholy necessity
of banishing a part of its citizens, to preserve them from famine. We
believe, even without taking into account the vast tracts of uncul-
tivated land which Europe still possesses, that improved modes of cul-^
tivation may increase, to an extent of which we have now no concep*
tion, the produce of the soil. We think it probable that Science,
particularly chymistry, nuiy discover means of rendering land, now
barren and wholly unproductive, capable of producing as much as the
most favoured soiJa do now. Though Providence doubdeas intended that

DudeiiV Europe and Afherica. \ ^ 19^

the vriiole tucth Bbould one ^ay be ptopled» it does not appear to have>
been designed that the object should be attained by the distress of
Uiose who were to carry it into effect. Surely, if increase of population
were so great an -evil, we should be reduced to the necessity of
changing our opinion of the merits of individuals who have hitherto
been considered as benefactors of the human race, and of looking upon
the introduction of inoculation and vaccination* by which thousands, nay
millions of lives have been preserved, as a curse instead of a blessing.

The first, and most considerable part of this volume, consists of
thirty-six letters, in which Dr. Duden gives an interesting account of
his travels and observations in America, during a period of about
three years. This part of the work was highly commended, even
b^ the critics who were most severe upon him; their attacks being
directed against the second part — " Un the Political Nature of
the North American Republics,** — which they considered to be far
tQo partial, and highly coloured in favour of the American Insti-
tutions. We have so many much more recent and valuable works
on this subject, for instance, M. de Tocqueville's '* Democracy in
America," of which we gave a short notice in No. XXX. p. 470,:
of this Review, that it would be a work of supererogation to examine
the opinions of Dr. Duden. The last part of the volume contains
some instructions and advice to persons intending to emigrate to Ame-
rica, whetlier with a view to agricultural or commercial pursuits.

The object of the second work is stated by the author to be, after
having by the first work made the reader acquainted with the situation
pf the North Americans, to avail himself of the knowledge so com-
municated, for introducing his opinions to the Europeans, and especially
to the Germans. This new work, therefore, is to be considered as a
supplement to the preceding, and he accordingly incorporates into it
the result of his furtner correspondence with North America. But he
adds, that it would be a mistake to consider it as nothing more, or to'
believe that he has been guided in the performance by his own fa-
vourite views. He declares that he had it always in sight to come to
an understanding with every one, respecting the most important
interests of their common country, whatever may be thought of hia
plans of colonization. He proceeds then to describe the state of so-
ciety in Europe, as it formerly was, and as it is now ; and it must be
acknowledged that mdny of his observations are perfectly correct^
though the inferences that he draws from them may not be admitted.

** There was a time," be says, ** and it is not very remote from us, when
the sober countryman roindea only his field and his cottage. If he thought,
he thought only upon them; — his wishes and his hopes never drew him from
the beaten track which had been followed by his fathers, and it never oo*
curred to him to seek the happiness of his life beyond the quiet narrow
circle of his native home. The mechanic had not a thought beyond his
business; the merchant thought only of his trade; the man of learning of his
science; the civil officer of his employment;. the warrior of his profession.
Strictly limited to such individual pursuits, and without troubling himself
about the afiiurs of his neighbour, every one sought the final object of bis

^2a Duden'^ Europe and America*

earthly existence in the career opened to hiin» as i( were, hj the indentares
of apprenticeship, considering him to be foolish or worthless who did other-
wise. The state went on, as if it were a part of the system of inanimate natore,
and people dreamt as little of fundamental changes, as .of alterations in the
course of the stars. Only he who could not resist the stins of necessitjr or
the impulse of passion, made an effort, always limited to individual particu-
lars, and never embracing the whole. In spite of the many interruptions
caused by wars, every one returned, lyhen peace was restoi^, to h» old
coarse, and, if there were exceptions, they were caused rather by accident than
by the will of man. So il woi formerly^ but now it is quite d^erent. A rest-
lessness, a struggle, manifests itself among all classes and stations, of which
modern history offers no previous example. The wish for happiness in this
world still predominates, it is true, in the minds of men, but every one de-
spairs of finding it in the career which education has pointed out to him.
Formerly, if any man mistrusted his own pursuits, stilL the pursuit of another
seemed to promise what he sought; thus the peasant praised the lot of the
mechanic, the merchant, that of the man of learning. But now, no dass
believes another to have any peculiar advantage, and, as every one despairs of
his own career, he despairs also of that of others.

" In all the countries of Europe the governed, as well as the government!,
feel, that both public and private life are surrounded by many embarrass-
ments. Things cannot go on so. All is wrong — there must be a great defect
somiewhere— in this all agree. But where is the defect? This is the question
which now forces itself upon everybody.

^' But the old complaint of the weakness and indolence of human nature is
too wdll-founded for us to hope, that many men will give it constant attentiOD,
without some more powerful excitement. The defect was perceived long
before the days of July ; but, whatever may be thought of those events at
Paris, they did this good, that they roused an intellectual activity in Europe^
which will decide the fate of the world. Now or never is the time when we
may venture to propose a general investigation of our situation. The more
clear the conviction of the stoppage and disturbance of the political machine^
the more powerful must be the wish to explore the nature and the seat of the
evil."

Our author accordingly proceeds to explain his views of the present
state of society, and the causes which have produced the great change
that has taken place, and respecting which there is an infinite variety
of opinions.

*' One party," he says, " considers the change as a corraption. The conse-
quence ot which opinion is, that its advocates cannot expect any improvement
of our situation, except from the improvement of man himself, and if the^ do
not promise themselves much good from changes in external circumstances,
they surely cannot be expected to call such part of our institutions bad as
were formerly manifestly good: they are consequently inclined to defend
everything established against reform. However, if many agree in calling a
great mass of mankind corrupt, they seldom agree in the reason they assign.
The party opposed to innovation throughout Europe must therefore consist
of many groups, which, for the sake of convenience, may be reduced to two
principal groups; for, as the grounds of all complaints of corruption are
either of a religious or temporal nature, our attention is naturally drawn to
the parties principally interested in these two points of view, namely, priests
and princes.''

We have not space, nor do we think it necessary to follow our au-

Duden*tf Europe and America. 221

thor in his discussion of those questions. Though he thinks that in

general the clergy, both Protestant and Roman Catholic, are adverse

to religious reform, and princes to political reform, from motives of

self-interest, often ill-understood ; — he will by no means have this aver-

sion unconditionally ascribed to selfish feelings. Many priests may

defend some dogmas, even against their own conviction, but it may be

eqaally true that there are many who are actuated solely by pious con«

viction in praying acainst all innovation. Princes, it is true, have

many personal grounds for maintaining things as they are. But as the

prince is frequently compared to the father of a family, we all know

instances of fathers who obstinately adhere to the old system in the ma*

oagemest. of their families, disregarding the changes effected by time,

or the considerations which the more advanced improvement of the

children requires* But nobody thinks of accusing them of being ac*

tuated bv selfish motives.

Our chief object in drawing attention to these works is not that they
contain much that is new to the English reader, who is acquainted
with the numerous publications on the United States, but because they
a£R>rd a proof of the increased consideration that is paid in Germany
to general political questions, and the freedom of discussion which is
allowed, when they are treated in a temperate manner. The works
before us, it is true, are printed in the Prussian dominions, where
authors, perhi^, enjoy more license than in some other states, but
still the press, even in Prussia, is under a very strict censorship, and
we may therefore consider the free discussion of such subjects as an
indication of the liberality of the government*

Abt. Xlh-^Geschichie der kaUerlkhen k'dniglichen Hofbibliotheh sm
Wxen^ von Ig. Fr. Edlen von Mosel, k.k, mrkl. Hofraihe und erstem
Cu$i08 der NqfbibliotAek. (History of the Imperial-Royal Court
Library at Vienna, by I. F. Edler von Mosel, Aulic Councillor and
Head-Keeper of the Court Library.) Vienna, 1835. 8vo. pp. 898.

Just at this juncture, the account of any foreign public library is of
peculiar interest. The Committee which has been appointed by the
House of Commons to inquire into the affairs of the British Museum»
has manifested a very laudable anxiety to ascertain, from authentic
sources, whether they really manage these things better or worse
abroad. It is indeed beyond all doubt, that common fame proclaims
us much in arrear of all our rivals on the continent in this particular ;
but that common fame is a common liar, the proverb assures us, and
experience often proves. We are much mistaken, if some of the state-
ments we shall extract from the volume now under our notice will
not a little astonish the wholesale praisers of the liberal management
of foreign public libraries.

In the first place, we find, from the regulations attached to the
volume before us, ^at the persons who make use of the celebrated
imperial library at Vienna are divided into three classes* To the first

288 * Von MoselV History of

belong only the Emperor, the imperial family, and a numerbiiB
of oSfciaJs, who all have the privilege of borrowing the books from
the library : private learned men are not admitted into this class. It
is rather disagreeable, in one's own inquiries at the King's or Georgian
library at the British Museum, to find that, after all, not every indivi*
dual book that is inserted in the catalogue has yet been translerred
from the shelves of Buckingham House to those of Great RasaelJ
Street ; but what are these slight checks to those which a student at
Vienna must inevitably encounter, every now and then, by finding chat
the volume he wishes to peruse is actually in the hands of Majesty or
of Mettemich ? <^To the second class," say the regulations, *' belong all
the studious, whether native or foreign, to whom the use of the Court
Library is permitted, but only on the premises of the same and with
observance of the laws of censorship." The third class consists of
non-resident learned men, who are at liberty to address queries to
the librarians, request them to make extracts from books, &c« ; it is
not stated whether under an obligation to return the compliment with an
honorarium or not. It will thus be seen that the second class, whic^
makes use of the reading*room and has not the privilege of taking
books out of it, exactly answers to our readers of the British Museum,
with but two differences, both in favour of the London student; that
here we are under no subjection to the laws of censorship, and that
there is no '* first class" to annoy us with superior and vexatious pri-
vileges. Let us now then endeavour to ascertain to which of the
^* reading rooms" the superiority of accommodation belongs.

A description of that at Vienna was laid before English readers
fourteen years ago by Dr. T. F. Dibdin, in his " Bibliographical
Tour through France and Germany," a work which, with all its defects,
(and their name is legion) will yet be found to furnish a fuller account
•of the public libraries the author visited abroad, than the reader will
easily obtain from any other source. ** Almost the first room which
you enter," says Dr. Dibdin, " is the Reading room. This may hold
about thirty students comfortably, but I think I saw more than forty
on my first entrance, of whom several, with the invincible phlegna of
. their country, were content to stand leaning against the wall, with
their books in their hands. The room is doubQess too small for the
object to which it is applied, and, as it is the fashion in this part of the
world seldom or never to open the windows^ the effect of such an at-
mosphere of hydrogen is most revolting to sensitive nerves." Steps
it appears have since been taken to remedy these inconveniences.
The reader who is impressed with an idea of the liberal management
of German libraries will not perhaps conjecture a method '' identically
the same" with that which was actually adopted in the year 1826.

*f The reading room of the Court Library,'' Mr. von Mosel, its head Cuitos,
acknowledges, '' is neither large enough for its numerous visiters, nor light
enough for its purpose. It is an oblong square, which at the two small ends
has on one side two windows, on the other only one. In the middle is a long
table furnished with writing materials, at which about forty persons find room.
Partly in the recesses of the windows, partly against the walls around, are
.the desks for two librarians (custodeo) and four clerks (scriptoren), wbo^ofteD

ihi Court Libraty at Viinna. CBS

disturbed by the readers, must pursue their literary labours. The throng of
the reading public was so great, that the seats at the table were no longer
sufficient, and many persons were compelled to read standing against the
walls or before the desks of the officers; while, owing to this overcrowding, the
heat in the room was often insupportable, and it became uncommonly diffi-
cult to keep the readers under proper survey. To remedy this unpleasant
state of tbmgs, the prefect, (the head officer of the library,) had a notice
put up at the foot of the staircase, that only so many persons would be ad-
mitted as could find room at the table, in additiou to this, opportunities
were taken to refer the students to the University Library, and to get rid of
readers for amusement, while the prefect afibrded to distinguished men of
learn iog, either native or foreign, a place in his office, though exceedingly
cramped for room. Thus at last the number of visUert toas brought into a
belter proportion to the space at disposal, which must however still be acknow^
ledged very insufficient, when it is considered that many learned men, in the
course of their inquiries, have need of several works at once for comparison,
that sometimes maps and folios are required for study, and that it is here
even that amateurs and artists must inspect the copper-plate ^gravings,
which are generally contained in volumes or portfolios of the largest folio
size,— all which, from the close neighbourhood of the readers to one another,
is hardly possible, and often downright impossible.''

This reducing the number of visiters to a proportion with the space
at disposal seems to us but a very sorry method of making both ends
meet. At tlie British Museum, although accommodation is there pro-
vided for one hundred and twenty readers, the same complaint of
want of room is beginning to be made, and is about to be remedied, not
by depriving those desirous of knowledge of the means of acquiring
it, not by decreasing the numbers, but, simple expedient, by increasing
the room! As to the second inconvenience complained of by Mr. voti
Mosel, the difficulty of keeping under survey some forty students
whose elbows touched, we cannot but regard his mention of it as a
very lefl-handed compliment to the learned of Vienna. In such close
contact, they misht, one would think, survey one another; and, unless
a large proportion of them consisted of downright abandoned cha-
racters, there would be very little danger of theft. As Mr. von
Mosel speaks of learned men in their inquiries often having need of
several works at once, we were rather surprised to find, in the regula-
tions, that to each reader only one work can be allowed at a time,
with merely such auxiliary books as may be necessary. At the
British Museum the number of works that may be had at a time is
altogether unlimited.

We have no doubt that our readers have now come to the same
conclusion to which this work has led ourselves, that admission to the
reading room in Great Russell Street is much more desirable than to
^at at the Imperial Palace of Vienna. We are obliged to add, that in
other points the comparison is not so much in our favour; — the Im-
perial Library, which contain^ abodt 300,000 volumes, acknowledges
but three equals in Europe, that of the Vatican at Rome, and the
Royal Libraries at Paris and Munich. Our own great national col-
lection is not only inferior to that of the capital of Bavaria, but to that
of the University of Gottiogen; and ranks but eighth or ninth among

224 VoD Mo8el!< History of the Court Library at Vienna.

the divtmguislied libraries of tbis quarter of the world. The nmiiber
of i>ook8 contained in it^ even with the addition of the late king's
munificent present, does not amount to more than about tivo hundred
and twenty thousand, or little more than half that of the great deposi-
tary of knowledge at Munich.

We hope that one result of the labours of the recently appointed
Committee will be to direct a vigorous augmentation of the stores of
foreign literature at the Museum^ so as to place our national library a
little more on a level with our national pretensions. Several of the
most distinguished works which have issued from the press on the con-
tinent have not yet found their way to it, but we suspect that, after
all, foreign public libraries may even be as censurable on this s(K>re.
It appears, by the work under notice, that Stuart and Revett's Anti-
quities of Athens did not make its appearance at the Imperial Library
till 1814^ some twenty years at least after it ought. Be that as it
may, we cannot help regarding it as a national disgrace, that the
richest and most populous capital in Europe should not boast one
library at least of the very first rank ; and we are encouraged to hope by
the signs of the times that many years will not pass before it does sa

Within the last few years, much has indeed been done towards this
desirable object. The splendid library-hall at the Museum has been
added to the too scanty catalogue of the *' Lions of London.*' Mr. von
Mosel speaks of that at Vienna as declared by all the learned men of
Germany, England, France, and Italy, as without its equal in Europe.
It is true that Dr. Dibdin spoke of it in 18S1 as beyond comparison,
but we suspect that in our ovm it has since found its rival. Dr. Wil-
liam Horn, who recently published an account of his travels in Ger-
many and England, speaks of the library at die Museum as the most
splendid building of the kind he ever saw, though he had been at
Vienna not many months previously.

We have hardly left ourselves room to add that Mr. von Mosel's
work is less of a description, and more of a history, than we could
have wished it, — a fuller account of the works contained in the library
might perhaps have usefully occupied the place of rather uninteresting
biographical accounts of its various librarians, many of whom did
nothing worthy of especial notice. A view and a plan of the library
are given, which we should not have mentioned, as thinking the reader
would take it for granted, had they not been unaccountably omitted in
Wilken's otherwise commendable history of the library of Berlin.

( 225 )

Art. XIII. — Des Meisters Godefrii Hagen, der Zeit Siadtschreihers, Reim-*
chronik der Stadt Coin a us dem dreizehnten Jahrhundert, Mit Anmer^
hingen und Worterbuch ; nach der einzigen alten Handschrift zum
trstenmale voUst'dndig herausgegcbai xon E. von Groote, Statltrath.
(The Rhyming Chronicle of the City of Cologne, during the thir-
teenth century, by Master Godefrit Hagen, Town Clerk at the time.
Now first published, with Notes and Glossary, &c., by £. voii Groote.)
Cola am Rhein. 1834. Svo.

TnERE is no class of books to which we are disposed to extend a more
ready welcome than those productions of the days that are past, whether
they consist of the chronicles of the historian, ox of the fables of the
poet, in which are shadowed forth, as in a mirror, the spirit and ten-
dency of the age in which they were composed. They are the only
trustworthy authorities to whom we can apply, when we would learn
the animus which influenced the doughty actors of those stirring times.
In the imaginative details of the minstrel, and in the quaint records of
the annalist^ the charms of their narrations are heightened by casual
and accessory touches, unwittingly copied by the writers from the busy
scenes acting before them, wlych serve to give an increased interest to
their pages, and make those pages faithful pictures of the era in which
they were composed, by exhibiting of the very age and body of that time
its form and pressure.

ITiis Rhymhig Chronicle, from the pen of the worthy Town Clerk of Co-
logne, Master Godefrit Hagen, who perhaps wrote himself Master from
bis connection as master-singer with one of the good old guilds of poetry,
is one which will justify to the fullest the remarks which we have just
made, and to all who admit their justice the publication of this volume
cannot bat be highly acceptable. Those readers, on the other hand|
who would estimate it only in proportion to the amount of exact historic
crI information which may be found in it, roust also be under obliga-
tions to its editor for bringing before the public an account written by
&n eyewitness, and one, too, who was enabled by his public situation of
Syndicus to collect information from every source, on some of the most
important events in the history of Cologne. This chronicle, the value
of which is sufficiently proved by the fact that the editors of the
'* Monumenta Germania Historica'* purpose including it in that Col-
lection, contains nearly 7000 lines, and is, with the exception of about
700 lines at the commencement, in which the writer, in accordance
with the fashion of his times, narrates the introduction of Christianity
into Cologne, and sundry wonderful circumstances which attended and
followed that event, devoted to a history of the affairs of that short but
eventful period in the history of the city, which intervened between the
years 1250 and 12>0.

I' One of the most important periods in the history of Cologne,'' says the
editor, *< is indisputably that daring which the writer of this rhyming chro*
nicle flourished, and the events of which he descrihes, for the most part, as an
eyewitness. It is the time in which the city, contending against the re-

voL. XVII. NO. XXXIII. q

226 Rhymiug Chronicle

peated assaults of the archbishop and nobles of the archbishopric of Colocne,
not only gained its freedom, but fortunatel}* maintained and establlshea it,
while many of the neighbouring German cities failed in similar attempu; in
which, moreover, the class of artizaos and tradesmen endeavoured by increas-
ing industry and wealth to diminish the ancient, for the most part benevolent,
but also oftentimes misused, authority of the aristocratic party ; and in whidi,
although not until after many fruitless contests and bloocfy ditcomfituresi they
stilL by degrees accomplished their object. Already, in preceding timea, had
the archbishops frequently endeavoured to bring this rich, and, from its exten-
sive population, powerful, city under their dominion ; but even the vigoroos
Anno failed in this, partly for that the doughty burghers knew how to protect
themselves, partly for that the jealousy of the neighbouring princesi and even
of the emperor himself, would not allow them to look on mdiSerentljF, aod
suffer the power of the archbishop to receive such an important accession of
strength." — Preface, p. I.

This is the language of the editor with regard to tbe state of parties
when the dissensions here described broke out between the archoisbop
and the city on the right of coinage. At a time when the quantity m
currency in circulation was but small, but an active commerce intro*
duced coins of most various degrees of value, there arose in the city of
Cologne an officially constituted guild under the name of //tu^oMSfea,
whose duty it was not only to superintend the coinage of the city, but
to ascertain tbe relative value which all foreign money introduced into
it bore to the standard of Cologne, and to make the same known. And,
for the more ready discovery of fraud or error, tbe money of Cologne
was always impressed with the same stamp, and a pattern piece was
deposited in the sacrarium of the cathedral, with which the coin in drcu*
lation might at all times be compared. The archbishop had, on tbe
other hand, mints at several places, hut the city authorities r^sed to
receive money of his coinage, if it differed in stamp and standard from
their own. By an arrangement entered into by Cardinal Hugo and
AlbertUH Magnus, in April, 1252, oathe occasion of a dispute between
the archbishop and the city, it was agreed that the archbishop should be
allowed to coin money of different impress and value, upon three occa-
sions only, namely, when a new afcbbishop was elected and confirmed ;
secondly, when he followed the host of tbe emperor beyond the AIds
(against the infidels); and lastly, which is, however, not to be found in the
document referred to^ although expressly mentioned by the chronicler —

^ Dar na als hie zo Rome komet in die stat
Umb syn pallium ind brengit dat,
Dan so maich hie die ander muntse maichen" — v. 714, &c.

when the archbishop should go to Rome to bear his pall there. Tbe
archbishop, who had frequently attempted to alter the impress of his
coinage and impair its standard, could not forgive the city for the perse-
verance with which they maintained their ancient rights and privileges;
and hence arose those feuds between them and him, which led to
his removal from Cologne, and thereby to a long series of disputes and
hostile measures.
It is not our intention to analyse the progress of the dissensions here

of the City of Cologne. 227

commenced^ and of the events which arose out of them ; our object has
been rather to call attention to the volume than to epitomize it : we shall
therefore content ourselves with giving another extract from the preface,
and terminate our notice with a few lines from the Chronicle itself, as a
specimen of the dialect in which it is composed.

'' Remarkable is the resemblance which the events here described as at-
tending the historical development of the municipal constitution of Cologne,
ID the thirteenth century, bear to those of Florence in the fourteenth, as de-
aeribed by Macehiavelli. The comparison between the cities might easily be
carried even to the most minate points, and to the characters of- the acting
personages* For instance, the second book of Maechiavelli's Historv shows us
now Walter di Brienne, Duke of A then, sought about 1343 to make himself
master of the city of Florence, for which purpose he employed the same means
which Conrad von Hochstetten had attempted against Cologne from about 1240
to 1250: both endeavoured to win over the lower classes of the people to their
side; to divide the nobilitv into contending factions, and, where the end in
view could not be accomplished by open violence, recourse was had to bribery
and intrigue. As Engelbert of Falkenberg had the party of the * Weisen' on
hie side, and had through their breach of faith nearly brought the city under
fait power; so were therein Florence the Buondelmonti and Cavaloanti, who
fought upon the side of the duke; in both cities, however, were treason and
perjury justly punished with banishment. These feuds lasted above a hundred
years m Cologne, as in Florence, and a Matthias Overstolz in the one, like a
Lorenzo di Medici in the other, will remain for ever distinguished for his great
personal energy and virtues as a citizen.^ — pp. 10, 11.

As oar promised extract from the Chronicle must be a short one, we
cannot, perhaps do better than give oar readers the few lines with which
Master Godefrit commences, in all piety, his task.

" Dich ewige Got van hemclrich,

Dynen sun, de eweliche

Mit dyr is, ind dynen hilgen geist,

Want ir dry vermogit alremeist,
5. So bidde icb, dat ir myr doit volleist

Zo eyme boiche, dat ich wil begynnen

Van dingen, die zo Coelne enbynnen

Der hilger stede sint gescheit.

Nu en byn ich leider so kunsticli neit,
10. Dat ich dat boich moge volmaichen

Van alle den dingen ind den saichen,

Die Coelne schade haint gedain,

Ir dry eyn Got ir en wilt myr bestain

Mit vrre helpen also by,
15. Dat is ummer bliue ind sy

Waroyoge der vil hilger stede,

Der Kirst durch syner moeder beide

Ind der hilgen die da ynne restent

Zo Gode wert haint so geuestint
20. Dat Coelne ain alle miswende

Ire dinck noch her zo goeden ende

Hait braicht, die ire sint weder waren," &c.

Q 2

( S28 )

Art. XIV, — Le Monde comme ii est (The World as it is.) Par le Mar-
quis de Custine. 2 vols, 8vo, Bruxelles, 1836.

We seldom bestow our time or pages upon the innumerable novels
incessantly pouring from the French press, unless impelled thereto by
extraordinary merit or demerit, or, what to critics is more attractive,
by a combination of botli. We are, however, occasionally tempted to
deviate from our rule, and one of the exceptions even now occurs.
Of M. de Custine we know nothing, and his " Monde comme U esf* dis-
plays neither the brilliant talents, nor the pernicious abuse of those
talents, which we have had to deplore and condemn, even vrhilst
irresistibly admiring, in the productions of the soi-disant George
Sand; but there are some two or three points about this novel,
ihat induce us to make brief mention of it. The first point is
that we may venture to name it to the fairer portion of our readers
without dreading to tarnish their mental purity, or if we are to
speak the exact truth, with less appreliension thaa French Novds
usually excite, though it must be confessed that the World as it is,
in M. le Marquis de Custine's notions and volumes, is a world with
which we had rather that our wives and daughters should remain
unacquainted. The second point is that the story is essentially ori«
ginal, inasmuch as the heroine, a prodigious heiress, is very u^y;
not merely plain, but positively and strikingly ugly, and the whole dis»
tress and interest of the book arises from her being unablo to believe
in the genuineness of the passion, deep if not ardent, with which her
intellectual charms and moral qualities have inspired a dissipated
young man of fashion and gallantry^ witli whom she is herself secretly
but invincibly in love. The third point is that these volumes offer us
a picture of south-western Normandy, physical and social, somewhat
comic, and yet more discordant with the boasts in which la belle France
is wont to indulge, of being in advance of all other nations, England
included, in civilization. We should however, in justice to the author
and to Normandy, observe that the tale t^ates a few years back, prior
to the revolution of the Three glorious DaySt and when the Jesuits, or
the Congregation, their modern title, were endeavouring to entangle
France in their cobweb toils ; the exposure of which, though assuredly
no longer politically important, seems to be one of our noble author s
* objects.

M. de Custine gives us various sketches of manners. We are first
introduced to la vie de Chateau (country-house life) ; the pretenders to
the hand of the ugly heiress, Jacqueline de Senaer, with tlieir re-
spective allies, being assembled in a Norman chateau, most pictu-
resquely situated, where she is visiting; the cabals and trickery, wise
and unwise, of the opposing parties ; and the provincial manners of the
better class, are well hit off. Hence the hero, Edmond d'OfHise,
when reluctantly but decisively rejected by the over-prudent Jacque-
line, repairs to his own chateau, where he has never resided; and
which, though not very remote, is situated in a yet more retired dis-
trict. We extract part of his journey as exemplifying the physical and

The World as it is, 229

moral condition of this part of Normandy — which will perhaps remind
the reader of Ireland.

'' In this part of France, as in some others, what is called n road of com-
municatioD might better be called a ditch of separation, especially along
valleys. There the intercourse between different parishes is carried on
through ravines or quagmires, ploughed from one end to the other by three
ruts, which serve respectively for the passage of the two wheels and the
horse of the cart. One journeys for hours over rolling stones, like fragments
of a broken wall; and these heaps of ruins are intermixed with rocks, stumps
of' trees, and logs of wood, and lucky is the traveller who is not brought to a
dead stand by abysses of mud, known iu the country under the name of mol-
lures (are we to translate ibis soft places?)

At about half a league from his own house, Kdmond was aroused from his
reverie by the sudden stopping of his carriage. The nave of the hind wheel
rested upon the edge of the rut, whilst the fellies could not reach the bottom,
so deep was tiie gulf. The horses made an effort to proceed. Traces and
harness broke, and the postillion's horse fell with his rider. Edmond, fearful
that the man miglrt be serionsly hnrt, sprang from the carriage and flew to
raise him. He was imharmed, and rose, saying :

*f ' I knew we couldn't get through.'

(Of course so much of the joke as turns upon the Norman dialect,
we must lose.)

**^ * And to whom did you state that the road was impassable?' asked £d«>
mond.

<< ^ Me ? To nobody. ^You asked for horses lo OfBize. I'm the post*boy \
J*m no counsellor.' «

" * Are we past the worst of the road ?*

" ' No, Sir, your carriage *11 never get through.'

** * Where are we T

** < Oh! that's more than I can tell you. But this way goes along the hedge
of M. le Marquis d'Etang's court-yard.'

'* * Is the marquis come back from his tour ?'

** * That's more than I can tell you.'

** * What ? Do you not know if he's at home ?'

** ' Nay, he has been seen hereabouts.'

'* Edmond leaped over the hedge into M. d*£tang*s court-yard, and, looking
about for the house, was surprised to see nothing but grass, spreading as far
as the eye could reach, under a wood of apple trees, through the stems of
which might be seen slated buildings for making cyder. M. d'Offlize did not
know that in Normandy a court-yard (cour) means an orchard surrounding
a man.%ion, a farm house, or often only a ham, or other such building.''

Af>er some search he finds the chateau ; the reader will recollect
that a French chateau is not quite synonymotis with an English castle.

" A* vestibule, strewed with fragments of broken windows, led him to a
staircase, at the top of which he met a stout servant-girl, who, with a bunch
of nettles was cleaning an earthen milk-^pen^ that she was about to place be-
fore her master's (ire, the only one in the house; for, when atone, M. de
i'Etang had his dinner cooked in his own room. The girl with her finger
pointed out her master's door to the visiter."

The marquis, however, annoyed at being thus surprised, received
his neighbour with courteous kindness; sent help to extricate the

230 The World as it is.

carriage, and detained the traveller for the night. In the course of
conversation he inquires,

'* * Well, my young neighbour, what political colour will you assumed
" * None. I come here to arrange my own affairs, and not to govern

the country.'
^ * That answer shows me that you know neither the country ncr the age.

Here, to avoid assuming a colour, is to let one be given you; and an odious

one, that of indifferentitm, of egotism.' "

But, aa we propose not to spare M. de Custine many pages, we
cannot extract the whole of the UberaUtt Marquis's dissertation upon
the miseries of political neutrality, or his explanation of how dis*
agreeable M. d'OfBize's arrival will be to his ultra-royalist, lawyer-
steward, who having, as the representative of the Seigneurs d*Omice,
once Suzerains of the district, with the Marquises (TEtang for their
vassals, long been the great man of the neighbourhood, and must ac-
cordingly dislike being supplanted by his principal, or in vulgar
parlance, his master. Neither can we find room for the gradual
offence taken by M. Lamazure, the said nototre-steward, at the simple
manners of the man of real fashion, which appear Co him supercilious,
overbearing, and rude, because not formal. We will ratlier select, as
giving the same feelinss more condensed and more comicallyy a visit
paid by M. le Comte d Ofllize to one of tlie notabilities of the market
town (bourg) of OfHize, which its inhabitants will on no account
endure to have called a village.

** The first house at which Edmond called, was that of M. Lecointel, tip*
staff, aod assistant to the mayor {huitsier, et a(0oint,)

** Madame Lecointel was in her kitchen, but not in wooden shoes (sabots),
because she had just returned from mass. M. d*Offlize entered so abruptly
that he caught her before she could rush into the parlour, shut the door
behind her, and, unseen, put the room to rights, whilst she sent the servant-
girl with a message of excuse, requesting M. le Comte dlQfBize to wait a
moment. Being hindered from observing this rustic etiquette was a heavy
offence to the good lady.

** M. d'Offlize observing that, by way of doing him honour, she was about
to lead him to an uninhabited part of the house, civilly objected, saying the
kitchen would do quite as well for him as for Madame Lecointel. Her em-
barrassment now gave place to resentment. Pale with anger, she paused,
said within herself: * Does he think the kitchen good enough for me? that I
am not fit to have a parlour?* and then, speaking with an efibrt, added aloud:
< Ah, M. le Comte d'Offlize, for a Parisian it's not very civil to want to stay
in the kitchen/

'' ' I do not think of Paris now, Ma^am.'

^ ' Do you then suppose that you are amongst savages?' rejoined the lady
sharply. ' To be sure we poor folks do not know how to receive great lords,
but at all events we don t let them sit down in the kitchen.' And, in her
wrath, shakiug the sugar-loaf shaped cap upon her head, she led him into the
parlour.

^ There she placed him opposite to tliat side of the room which was papered
with views of Paris. When he was seated, when the window-shutters bad,
with some difficulty, been successively openccl, when, after sundry whisperings
with the servant-gir]| the leg of mutton and the basket of eggs had been re-

The World as it is. 23 1

moved, the broken crokery swept away, the cat turned out, nnd a favourite
hen shut up in a dark closet; when all these arrangements were completed,
the ladjr, full of ber new paper, asked her visiter, ' Do you recognize your
own country?'

'' M. d'Offlize^ wbo was not thinking of the parlour paper, supposed she
«poke of the valley of Ofilize, and answered ' I had no recollection whatever

^ * Humph V thought the lady, < these Parisians are not quite so clever as
we are taught to believe/

• •••••••

" Edmond finding it heavy work to make Madame Lecointe) chat, asked
for M. Lecointel.

^ ' He's out on horseback, Sir/ she replied.

'' ^ I am sorry for tt^ I wished to speak to him about M. Lamazure, who is
leavio; me.'

" No answer.

" * You know that he is leaving me ?'

" ^ Uush V said his hostess at length, anxiously laying a finger on her lips.
* That is the palinu of his garden/

" * And what of that ? asked Edmond.

** * We might be overheard/ — The garden paling was a hundred yards
distant from M. Lecointel's house.

«

^ Edmond tried a new topic, which he thought might be congenial, and
said, * I find a great charm in country life. It is so unlike Paris<— such com-
plete repose/

'^ ^ I don't know, never having been there,' rejoined Madame Lecointel
disdainfully.

" * Oh, you have never visited Paris ?*

'^ * I spoke of the country, M. le Comte/

^ And Edmond recollected he had already been told that Offlize was a
town.* * • * • • M. Vatard, the sparkling, airy, elegant, M. Vatard (tax-col-
lactor of the Commune)^ now entered. To show his fashionable ease, he was
scarce dvil to M. d'Offltze, stretched his neck in greetin|^ to his fair neighbour,
flung himself noisily upon the nearest chair, and tossmg back his head thus
addressed M. d'Offlize.

^ * M. le Comte most have been pleased with the vicar's sermon. Ah, ha !
He is something different from the curate. He knows the world/

^'Edmond was displeased by M. Vatard's self-sufficient tone and manner;
but quietly answered : ' I cannot yet quite judge of yout vicar's talent, but I
did not think bis subject well chosen.'

** * How so, M. le Comte?* asked Madame Lecointel sharplv.

^ ' He preached against luxury and fashion,' rejoined Edmond; 'and I
should have thought Offlize safe from such vanities.'

** ' What, M. le Comte, you think us unfit to profit by the lessons addressed
to the inhabitants of great towns! Really that is holding us rather too
cheap. What, can I have no luxury because I am but a poor b<mratoisef * *
* * Do you deny us even vanity ? What do you take us for?' ''

But we are running into greater length than we had intended, and
shall lay down the pen, satisfied that we have given a sufficient sketch
of the Norman bourgs and of M. de Custine's talent.

( 23^ )

Art. XV. — The Fort folio; or a ColUctum of Staie Papers^ iliMstraHre
of the History of our Times. No. L to No, V. London. Ridgway-

We have taken occasion in one of our late Numbers to refer to this
publication, respecting which it is but fair to admit that opinions are
much divided. Agreeably, however, to our plan, announced in No.
XXIX., of giving the opinions of eminent continental critics on English
publications, we shall extract a few passages from a critical analysis of
the Portfolio, by Dr. C. F. Wurm, the able editor of Die Zeitschnft,
a periodical work, commenced with the year 1835, at Hambnrg. It
appeared in the "' Blatter f iir literarische Unterhaltung," printed at
Leipzig, (Nos. 54 — 57, for 1836), and as illustrative of the state of
public opinion in Germany on some of the important questions touched
upon in The Portfolio, we conceive that this notice of it will not be
uninteresting to our readers.

Referring to the despatches of Prince Lieven, Count Matuszewicz,
and Count Pozzo di Borgo, in the years 1826 and 1 829, published in the
4th and 5th Numbers of The Portfolio, the Reviewer thus remarks,-?-

'* But have we occasion for these despatches to prove that in those ytan
it was the interest of Russia to occupy France with the Peninsula, and that
Russia has found means to keep one English admifiistration after anodier
(Tories and Whigs alike) inactive, whilst she was prepariug in the East that
which is now coming to maturity before our eyes? Kven the councillor of state,
Ncbenius, must, it anpears, be content to see his. prediction quoted (No^. IV.
p. 1G9), that England, if she sliould soon take a fancy to stand forth again as
mistress of the ocean, would find the Black Sea cfesed against her. The ques-
tion concerning the Dardanelles is become a vital question for the naval power

of England A crisis is at hand^a acrious, nay, an awful one — ^wfaicfa

threatens to reach the hearths and the homes of far distant nations, whose
opinions are not even asked, unless the conciliatory policy of Prussfa, unless the
firm hearing, or — ^have we not witnessed much that was not to be foreseen ? — an
imposing resolve, of Austria, should succeed in laying the storm."

The Reviewer then proceeds to notice the Russian Memoir published
in Nos. II. aud III. of The Portfolio, in the following manner: —

"There is a very remarkable article (H. 57— 92j III. 114—155), which,
under the title of a Russian Memoir or a Russian Note, has been mentioned in
many German papers, end from which considerable extracts have been given in
the Hamburgh ' Zeitsehrift fiir Politik, Handel und Handelsrecht* But this
communication is founded only on such passages as had been published before

the appearance of the Portfolio in the British and Foreign Review

The only conceivable object of snch a paper would he to excite in Germany
hatred against Russia, and in Prussia, in particular, jealousy and suspicion of
that power. But in this case there would be displayed, together with mudi
cleverness of invention, too great clumsiness of arrangement; inasmuch as the
document lacks all those marks which might contribute to deceive, and to cause
it to be considered as a diplomatic communication emanating from the Russian
government. It is far more probable that this paper has really been written —
no matter by whom— to render the idea of a Russian protectorate agreeable to
the second-rate German powers. How far it may contain the views of the cabi-
net of St. PctersbuTgh, how far the writer and his work may enjoy the patronage
of that cabinet, is a matter on which the reviewer feels himself not called upon

Dr. Wunn on " The Portfolior 233

to hazard any ooniectures. But anuredly, ft is the affair of every German to
concern bimaelf about the eCar of political salvation which is here annonnced,
about the new guanuitee of German f^edom which is here presented."

'' To say nothing of measures that are already designated as provisional, there
arises from the pecuMar tendency of this Memoir, a question, on which not a
single word is bestowed :^~if, namely, Russia is so much better qualified than
Austria or Prussia for the Protector of the German Confederation, is it because
Russia's principles of intellectual intercourse so fiir surpass in liberality those of
the Austrian and Prussian governments? What the author thinks of the German
nation, of the German states, of the German princes, may be collected from the
following passage : —

" ' The princes of the small constitutional German states, oppressed by their
ambitious legislatures, as Louis XVI. was by his National Convention, in re-
membraaee of this great warning eicample, have now themselves acknowledged
that; on the further licentiousness of their chambers depend their existence or
Don«ez]stence. They now oflfer a hand to Prussia, to curb the liberty of their
chambers, whilst they willingly submit themselves to the general decrees of tlie
Diet, and only give way, in one common spirit of conservation, to the necessities
of the times.* "

** Further, what is to become of the constitutions ? Only the peculiar local
and provincial interests need be drawn into the sphere of public discussion.
(II. /9.) It may, perhniB, do the author a service, to remind him that Eliza-
beth of England warned her parliament against interfering in gtate affairs, and
that at a time when iu Germany not an inch of territory could be alienated, not
a treaty oondudedy not a sovereignty erected, not a war carried on, without the
assent of the states. This may serve iar a reply to the assertion that, in the
constitutions of Bavaria, Wiurtembeig, Nassau, Baden, and Weimar, the consti-
tutions of England and France are copied almost verbatimt without any regard
to the ancient institutions of those coimtriesof Germany (II. 80.) It is, cer-
tainly, edifying to see here, in Uie first place, how English and French institutions
are thrown peU mell into one hag; and in the next, to find it in exulting simpli-
city affirmed, that the Eogliah eonstitutiDn is described somewhere— (perhaps in
the * Statutes at haxg^'y'-ao compendiously, that one may copy it out word
for word ; and, lastly, that such a total ignorance prevails on the subject of the
earliest, the most important^ of all German rights, a right that existed before
parchments— the rignt of granting or refiising taxes. After the author has per-
suaded himself that the German princes have learned to separate their interests
from those of their people, he shows them how to separate their interests also
from tile Prussian, that is to say, as soon aa the end which caused them to offer
the hand to Prussia has been attained. This point is connected with the prin-
ciples of material intercourse; and in the above-mentioned spirit, the dissolution
of the Prussian custom-house system, calculated for political objects, is pre-
dicted." r.— J r

''The last disquisition," proceeds Dr. Wunn, " treats of the development of
the German Confederation, ' under the equal or unequal influence of Austria
snd Prussia.' An equal influence is not conceivable. Immediately afterwards
comes the startling pnmosition that * sooner or later the influence of both powers
may be paraly9ed^([Ii. 124.) Austria is thrown in every way into the back-
ground: but of Prussia, it is said, that she will have iu time to expect a much
stronger opposition from the Diet Uum from the cabinet of Vienna ; that this cir-
cumstance may perhaps induce the cabinet of Berlin to attemjvt to reduce and to
break the politi^ power of the Diet ; but, fortunately, Austria will, on the like
grounds, strive to uphold its influence and stability.

" Hence it is, that the writer pretends to infer ihai the independence of the
'mailer German states cannot be guaranteed, either by Pnusia or Austria, and

«34 Dr. Wurm on '* The PortfoliQ.''

that tlM guarantee of fome great foreign power muit be wdeome to the Dkt
It is, however, difficult to persuade one'»4elf that thii oonduaion is actualljr
drawn in this manner. In each of the two gnat German powen lies the gnar
rantee against the subnigation of the weaker states by the other — therefore, ^
guarantee of a tiiird foreign power is necessary ! England, we are then UM,
mm its insular position, and as a merely naval power, is not adapted ibr this
purpose, oonse^iently there is no other choioe but between Fiance and Rossia.

" Assiuredly, as for England, she would decline the protectorate of Germany.
The connection with Hanover has already given cause sufficient for diaoontent
to the nation, and for vexation to the first, second, and tfiird Gtor^, Eng-
land's policy is purely national, or, if you please, selfish — and whatpohcnr is not!
The German liberals would egregionsly decifive themselves if they iiiii^;iiied that
Enffland would raise a finger for the preservation of their constittttionB. Eng*
lana is no farther interested in the matter than in so fkr as it ooold not be
donbtfol, in case of a war of princ^es, which party the people of the constitu-
tional states wcmld espouse. But even then, the policy of England consists ia
avoiding such a war. As to the independence of mdividual states of the Ger-
manic Confederation, England is interested only in a limited degree — ^in regani
for instance, to the mouths of the Elbe and the Weser. Aeain, it is a geneni
interest of England's that the German states should not fiSi under the supre-
macy, mediate or immediate, of any foreign power; that all Germany diouU
be upheld, without caring much within what umits or in what number of sepa-
rate states. But, in the interior, indeed in the mater part of Grermany, there is
no confidence, no cordiality towards England ; and it will not be otherwise^
fiicndly political relations will not take place between England and Gennany,
tin England has purified her commercial system and made an anrangement witii
the German states founded on just princi^es of redprooitv. After kng hesita-
tion, such an arrangement on the part of England will appear, not aa some
heated dedaimers in the states of the Union ( reremslaalen) iniegine-«-«i the
compulsory result of necessity, but as so oompletdiy grounded in tfaa inleiest ef
England, that in Germany tiie profftred hand will be still eagerly grasped,
though not With warmheartedness as that of a fiiend.

'* As a matter of course, the Germans will not solicit a French goacantee of
their Confederation any more than a Russian. The anonjrmous wnter has cec^
tainly enumerated abundance of services rendered by Rtasia to Gennan inde-
pendence. Were we to admit them all without any question, the necessity of a
Russian protectorate wodd by no means fblfow. It would be supOTfiuoas to
waste further words on the subject, were not the Germans charged with ingrati-
tude— * the most despicable ingratitude/ This accusation demanda a brief reply.
The author gqcB back to the time of Catherine the Great and her ' ffuaranlee sf
the peace of Westphalia.' Was the way in which she supported the Bavarian
plan of exchange in the spirit of the peace of Westphalia? It is declared to
nave been an unprecedented, incomprenensible blindness in the Gennan elee-
tors not to have thrown themselves at once, in 1790, into the arms of Russia, as
one of them (the Elector of Treves) did in the fdUowing year. Do people, then,
take the Germans for children, or for imbecile old men who have lost their
memory, that they talk to them of such things in such a tone? Are, then, die
works of those times annihilated ? Are the documents and the facts swept away
together? The truth is, that the peace of Westphalia was, as usmd, renewed and
confirmed at the peace of Teschen, in 1799. Russia ffuaranteed die peace tiT
Teschen before the emperor and empire acceded to it, and without her guarantee
being solicited. Upon this was founded the claim (^ the Russian cabmet to in-
terfere thenceforward in the afiairs of the empire. Was it any wonder if the
Germans recoOed firom such a foreign interference? But Russia guaranteed the
Pbliidi constitution just as well as &e peace of Westphalia. Not RoasVa ene-

Dr. Wurm on " The Portfolio:* 235

mies— no, the Russian cabinet itself, drew the parallel in the manifesto of May,
18, 1792:—

" ' C*est ainsi qu*ils ont eu la perfide addresse d'interprbter Tacte par lequel la
Russie garantit la constitution l^g^me de cette uationi eomme un joug onereus
et avtliasant, tandis que lea pins grands empires, et entr'antnas oeiul de TAll^
mague, loin de rejetter cette sorte de garantie, les ont envisag^es, recherch^es, et
Te9iies, comme le ciment le plus solide de leurs propri^t^s et de leur independ-

ance.' "

We shall not follow Dr. Wurm through his further strictures on the
policy of Ruasia, but merely quote hia concluding remarks: — " A state
which cannot subsist without foreign guarantee is lost. A nation that
cannot preserve its independence without foreign guarantee deserves it
not. The German Confederation needs no foreign guarantee, so long
as the two great powers are true to the Confederation, the princea to
their people, and the people to themselves. In the contrary case, no
guarantee can save them.''

fi i^f ■ I I ■ i

*«* To the incruiry of a Correspondent at Hull, the Reviewer of Rossellini's
work makes the rollowing reply :*— The argument of Sir William Drummond,
that the chymists of Egypt (from the names of which, Cham and Chemia, the
names of chymistry and alchyroy are derived) had the art of retaining gold in
a liquified state, is inferential but fair. Moses possessed the art, as appears
from Exodus, xxxii. 30, where he is described (ana the original Hebrew is more
express upon the subject than our translation) as fusing gold, making it potable
and causing the Jews to drink of it. This modem chymistry cannot do. Now
if Moses possessed the art, the fair inference is, that the Egyptian chymists
possessed it too ; inasmuch as Moses was an Egyptian by birth, though a Jew
by faith ;•— and inasmuch as he was educated under the sanction of an Egyptian
rhanroh, who united the character of pontiff, presiding over all the Egyptian
scientific and sacred orders oiSophoi, with that of king. He is moreover re-
corded to have been versed in ^ all the wudom of the Egyptians;" and,
finally, a profane authority, vis. Manetbo, expressly says, that the Moses who
led forth the 2000 lepnxis Jews out of Egypt was brought up as an Egyptian
pnest, and was, in fact, a Hkrogrammoteutf or sacred scribe, of Heliopolis.
^e inferential allegation is thus fairly made out.

( 236 )

MISCELLANEOUS LITERARY NOTICES.

No. XXXIII.

FRANCE.

The Royal Library at Paris consists of four departraeiUs : — 1. Printed Boob;
3. Manuscripts ; 3. Antiques ; and 4. Priots, Maps, and Plans. Of the first
divisioD) more numerous than all the others put together, there is yet no com-
plete catalogue, though the books are tolerably well arranged according to
classes; and a period of four years is required for preparing one. The printed
books, which in the general catalogue are confusedly intermixed with the
manuscripts, amounted, in 1791, to 153,000 volumes; their number is dow
nearly doubled, being 3d!l,000. Of others there are special catalofsues; bimI
of many the titles are no where specified. These two latter classes include
full 150,000 volumes, exclusive of pamphlets, about 100,000 in nuiaber^wbidi
are arranged in 7000 portfolios. The typographical rarfties, editions of the
15th century, editions on vellum, and other scarce works, with nuinuscnpt
notes, are at present wholly withdrawn from the public view, and deposited
uuarranged in a damp place. A catalogue of the editions oo vellum was
drawn up by Van Praet, and printed at his own expense. Of the editions of
the 15th century, there exists no catalogue ; neither is there any for the edi-
tions of Aldus, Etienne (Stephanus), and Elzevir. There is a tolerably good
catalogue of the almost complete and highly valuable collection of 'Dutcii

Slays, and also for the collection of dramas connected with the history of the
Evolution. For the three following classes there is yet no catalogue : 1. The
books printed in France which have been deposited here in the way of the
DepAt Legal, chiefly since 1816; 2, A great portion of those books which
have been added to the library by donations and bequests ; S. Many confiscated
books, and such as formerly belonged to monastic Jihraries and emigrants. Ic
may be assumed that, under these heads, at least forty or fifty thousand works
are still unspecified; a large proportion of these are theological works. Sioce
the year 1791, neither a single work on Jaw or divinity, nor a single novel, has
been inserted in the catalogue. The deficiencies of this department of tbe
Royal Library call more especially for the procuring of new books, die binding
and completion of defective works, and tbe replacing of such as are totally
lost. The number of stitched books amounts to 145,995 volumes ; and 80^1 3
urgently require new binding. The expense of binding tbe latter is estimated
at 150,000 francs, and, the former, at 250,000. The incomplete works are
not yet inserted in, the catalogue beyond the third letter of the alphabet;
taking the usual average of each letter, we may calculate the incomplete worb
at 4,243, consisting of about 23,000 volumes, of which we may assunoeat least
11,500 to be wanting. Among the works which this library has never pos^
sessed, we need only mention the translation of Strabo, to show what important
chasms yet remain to be filled up under this head. In foreign literature these
chasms are particularly conspicuous. When, in 1811, Napoleon, with tlie
Empress Marie Louise, inspected the library, he was astonished at tbe great
deficiencies which were pointed out to him, and promised to furnish it with a

Mucellanews Literary NoHee$» 237

fund of a miUion of francs to supply those deficiencies. Towards this sum
130,000 francs were actually paid : the reverses of the succeeding years ren-
dered it impossible for the Emperor to fulfil his intentions in regard to the
remainder.

The department o( manoscfipts consists of four sections : Greek, Latin,
Oriental, and manuscripts in modern languages, especially French. The first
bection has a complete catalogue ; that of the second is defective ; and the two
latter have no catalogue at all. The number of manuscripts that need binding
is calculated at 10,000. Among the Indian manuscripts are two imperfect
copies of the Ramayana, and but one, likewise defective, of the Mahabharat.
Of the Chinese books a catalogue is preparing.

The library possesses a rich collection of the later medals, comprehending
more than 10,000. This collection was completely arranged in 1833. Three
thousand of them present a series of celebrated personages, arranged chrono*
logically, according to the countries to which they belong. The 7000 others
form an historical series of the states of Europe, ^reat and small, likewise ar-
ranged chronologically. It is hoped that the classification of the French and
other modern European coins will be completed in the course of next year.
The loss sustained by the cabinet of antiques is still painfully remembered.
Accident has, however, led to the recoverv of some of the gold coins stolen in
18S1. The cover of the golden goblet of Rennes, the seal of Louis XIV., the
medal of Napoleon's coronation, and many other valuable articles, have also
been recovered. According to a statement given in a French journal the
total number of coins and medals stolen amounted to 3,889; of these 1136
have been recovered, so that 2763 are lost.

The geographical collection of the library is very far behind the other de«
partments. It is yet in want of the most important foreign maps; though it
is said that It would rlecjuire no more than from 12,000 to 15,000 francs to
sapply the principal deficiencies under this head.

A fire which occurred at Paris on the 12th of December, in the workshops
of Perrotet and Monniot, bookbinders, in the Rue du Pot de Fer, has made
great destruction of literary property belonging to various booksellers, who had
ware-rooms in the same building. Of the ** Archives curieuses de l*Histoire
de Francej par Cimber et Danjou,'' alone, 7,400 volumes were burned, together
with the whole impression of the 7th volume, which was to have been pub-
lished in a few days, by Beauvais, senior ; who has also lost Galisset's collection
of the Laws for the years 1832 and 1833, and two historical works on the 16th
century, by Victor uoreau. The loss sustained by the house of Paulin is not
less considerable ; it includes 500 copies of the " fiistoire Parlementaire de la
Revolution Fran^aise," by Buchezand Rous, in 21 volumes, including the whole
edition of the 22d, which would speedily have been published ; besides the
whole edition of the first three volumes of Toreno's " Histoire de la Guerre
d'Espagne;'' the translation of Ri tier's Geography; '< Histoire des Sciences
Matb^matiques," by Libri, 8cc. Ladvocat lost 600 copies of the translation of
General Colleta'^s ''History of Naples,*' and 1500 copies of one volume of
Memoirs of the Prince of the Peace ; Mame, the ** Histoire du 16me Sidcle,
pnr le Bibliophile Jacob,*' and a new edition of the Memoirs of the Duchess
t'f Abrantes, in 12 volumes; Ainj^ Andr6, Mai te Brun's Geography; Am-
broise Dupont, the whole impression of Edgar Quinet's heroic poem, ''Napo-
leon,'' which was to have appeared on the following Monday, and of which
report spoke most favourab^ ; the third volume of the Memoirs of Fleury the
actor, and 6000 volumes of novels. Dumont also lost 15,000 volumes of
novels, besides ''Scenes de la Vie Castillane," b;^ the Duchess of Abrantes,
which was to have been published the day following; the house of Gosseliui

^8 Mucellanema Lkenry Naiiees.

Fame, and Perrotin, 6(\000 volamet of tmnslatiQiii from WallM SooCt wd
Cooper. Many otlMr houMs, aod among them Boteaage and G(».» who bad a
stereotype foundry in the same premisasy have bean oonnderable safimrL
The first volume of a new work of fiction^ by Jules Jaoio, ** Les CUenuRi Ae
Trarerse,'* which bad been eagerly expeoted, Tooqaevilie and BewinMmt'd
works on America, the Pandeets» by Isambert, and several wboW years of
some periodicals, are also included in the destruotive offsets of this aoddesi.
The loss in books alone is astiroated at the sum of three mtlUoni of francs,
or i26fiQ0L

The minister of public instruction has preseuted to the kinp the first vo-
lumes of the great collection of unpublistied documents for the History of
France, for which the Chambers voted a sum of money in the budgets of
1835 and 1836. The works completed are: — 1. '' Negociations relatives i U
Succession d'Espagne sous Louis aI v./' 3 vols, par Mignet; 9. "Memoires
relatifs au m^me sujet," par Devaulr, revus par Pelet ; 3. " Joornal des Btats
g^n^raux de France, tenus a Tuurs, 1484*'' par Masselin, publ. par Bernier.

A work attributed to the late Emperor Napoleon has just appeared, with tlx
title of *^ Precis de Guerres de C^sar.^ It professes to have been dictated by
the Emperor, at St. Helena, to M. Marchand, and several unpublished frag-
ments by Napoleon are attached to it.

From a letter we have just received from Paris, we learn that tlie old Breton
poems, stated in our last to have been discovered by M. de la Villemerqu6, are
the poems of Gwiuglaf, and that the manuscript is the same which was de-
scribed in the preface to the Breton Pictiouary of D. Lepelletier, conceruing
the antiquity and genuineness of whose contents much doubt has been
expressed by different antiquaries and philologists. Our correspondent, who
is acquainted with M. de la ViJlemerqu^ informs us that the manuscript is
again lost—'' que ce mauuscrit a ^t^ aussi(6t reperdu que retrouv^.*^

We have received the first part of the catalogue of the books of the late Mr.
Heber, whidt are for sale at Paris, and which were to be sold by M. Sitvestre
on the successive days from the 15th of March to the 16th of April. The
chief curiosities which it contains ore a few early-printed French books. Ac
the late sale in Xx)odon, Mr. Heber*s manuscripts fetched very higbjprices.
The early French and Norman manuscripts were chiefly bought by Sir tniomas
Phillips, A few manuscripts were carried away into France, among which
were 2V^ Lamentatiom of the Abbot Gillon le mwit, a curious and unique
early French poem; a vellum manuscript of the Alexandreid of Philip
Gualter; the magnificent and extraordinary Cancionera of Juan Alfonso de
Baena ; the Roman de Falaman et ArcUe^ which is suoposed to have been the
original of Chaucer^s tale. The manuscript of the Flemish Re^nacrt de Tos
will return to its own country ; it was bought by the Belgian ambassador, M.
Van de Weyer, for 131/. bt. The 'Roman de Mcnt-Saint^Mkhel^ a manu-
script which has been lone sought b^ the French antiquarians, and which
was bought by the British Museum, will shortly be published at Paris, uoder
the editorial care of Messrs. Thomas Wright and Francisque Michel.

The SocUti de PBittoire de France has published its first volume, an ex-
tremely handsome octavo, containing an early history of the Expeditions of
the Normans in Italy and Sicily, written orginally in Latin by Amatus, a
monk of Monte Cassino, who lived conteniporary with the events he relates,
and the Chronicle of the deeds of Robert Viscart; which the editor^ M. Cham-

MkcellaneouB Literary Noiicei* 239

poirton-Figeac, attributes to th« same writer. Tbey only now exist in an
emriy and, for the language, from its locality, very curious French vision,
contained in the unique manuscript of the tiiurteenth century, in the BibltO"
tkigue Royale, from which he has printed them. They are there embodied in
a large general chronicle from the beginning of the world. They are admira*
bly edited by M. Champollion*Figeao, with learned and profound prolegomena,
and the volume is altogether a credit to iti editor and to the society w]|ich
has published it. Their next volume is announced to be an edition of the
History of Gregory of Tours, a translation of which will also be published
separately.

Techener, of Paris, has reprinted the edition of the early romance of Eerie
aux ^randt piedSf by M. Paulin, Paris, which is an elegant companion to the
Garm le Loherrain, by tiie same editor. We are informed that the French
government, which has lately been very emulous of patronizing literature, has
bad some commuuications -with M« Francisque Michel, on the subject of a
complete collection of the romances of the Carlovingian cycle, to be edited
by him. This would, indeed, be a grand undertaking.

The third and fourth volumes of the philosophical Hittory of France, by
Micbelet, will appear during the summer. We learn that the fifth and aizth
volumes, which will complete the work, are in a state of forwardness*

At Saint-Omer there has lately arisen a serious dispute on the subject of the
siege of Calais in the reign of Edward III. of England, anpl tlie nistory of
Eustace de Saint- Pierre. We believe it has even been a subject of bitter con-
tention in the newspapers. The SoeUU det Aniiquaires de la MoHnie offered
a gold medal for the best dissertation on the subject, and two were presented,
each taking a different view of the question. At the sitting of the fourth of
I>ecember, 1835, the secretary read an ^' opinion/' in which he advocated that
party which viewed the circumstance of Eustace's devotion as an established
fact, and naturally recommended the dissertation which favoured that opinion;
but the Society, by a majority of 14 to 11, gave the medal to the other candi-
date, with a reserve that ** the talent of its author only was crowned, and that
no opinion on the question should be attributed to the Society."

Anquetil's "Histoirede France," continued from the Revolution of 1789 to
that of 1833, by M. Leonard Gallois, is publishing in parts; a part of the
History and a part of the Continuation being delivered alternately. The whole
will consist of from 55 to 60 parts, forming 16 volumes 8vo.; 9 containing
Anquetil's work, and 7 the contmuation.

The first part of Charles Lenormant's great work, ** Mus^e des Antiquit^s
Egyptieones,'' is published. It is to be completed in twelve parts.

Messrs. Didot, of Paris, will soon commence the publication of Jacquemont's
"Voyage de rinde," in 4 folio volumes, containing 300 plates, under the super-
intendence of the minister Guizot.

CbampoUion's " Monumens de TEgypte et de la Nubie,'' the first two livrai-
sons of which are reviewed in our present number, will extend to 4 vols, folio,
with 400 plates, some of which will be coloured. The price will be about 500
francs.

240 MtseeU^neous LiUraty Nstic€$4

Of tlw ** Voyage ptItoceBque et historique du Bresil, depais 1816 jusqu'ea
18dl/' by M. Debrety professor of paintiDg ia the Academy of Kio de Janeiro,
the first volume is finished, and the seeond in progress. It will form, when
complete^ 3 folio volumes. Each llvraison contains 6 plates, with descriptive
text.

]Vf. 'rhibaudeau's great work, " Histoire du Consnlaf et de rEmpire," is now
completed, in ten octavo volumes. We purpose to take due notice of it in an
early number of this Review.

M, Monin, professor of history at the Coll^ of Ljrons, has found among the
manuscripts in the Royal Library at Paris, the Chronicles of Jean Lebel, a ma-
nuscript which has long been supposed to be lost, and intends to publish a
pamphlet on the subject of this discovery.

" Scenes de la Vie HoUandaise et Beige," by Alphonse Boyer and Eoger de
Beauvoir, are in the press, in two vols. 12mo.

It is well known that Chateaubriand is at present engaged in a tmnslation
of Milton's Paradise Lost. In January last, one of the numbers of the
*^ Revue de deux Mondes,'' contained a fragment of the Introductiot*, in
which the author expresses his opinions of Sbakspeare and his contempora-
ries, and furnishes evidence of his ability as a critic.

M. de Chateaubriand has at length consented to publish his Memoirs daring
his life. They are to oooupy sixteen vols. 8vo., and to appear in Uwamonu of
tVro or three vols, at a time. In their publication chronological order ffill not
be observed. Thus the ministry of 1892 and the war in Spnn wiii appear
first. The author is to receive for the copyright 150,000 francs; 12,000 miocs
per annum till the work is completed ; and an annuity of €6^000 francs for bis
own life and that of his wife, from the year 1839.

Locien Buonaparte, Prince of Canino, has in the press the first two volumes
of his Memoirs, which will be completed in six vols. 8vo. If he chooses to
speak out, the prince certainly has it in his power to fornish many interesting
particulars not yet known, especially concerning the celebrated 18tfa Brumaire.

Scribe, the dramatic writer, has been elected a member of the French
Academy, in the place of the deceased M. Arnault.

The first volume of the ** Histoire de la Reformation du seizibme si^le,*
by Merle d'Aubign^, just published by F. Didot, is a work advantageously
distinguished from many others of its kind, by clear arrangement, and an en-
deavour to penetrate into the true spirit of that age.

A new weekly paper, on the plan of the Englisli Court Journal, is about to
appear at Paris under the title of << La Renaissance." It will be published in
a very sumptuous style, and is produced under the patronage of the govern-
ment, who have contributed pecuniary aid towards its appearance.

A curious work for the history of Middle Age literature has been just
published at Paris, an edition of the Ancient Catalogue of the Manuscript
Library of the Louvre, made in 1373, with historical and critical notes. VYbat
is very singular^ it contains no less than two copies of the extraordinary

Misctltaneotis Literary Noikes, 241

roman of Euttdce the Monh, both dtflferent from the now antque copy from
which M. Francisque Michel has pablithed his edition. This shows tnat that
poem iDost have been once very popular.

The valuable library of the late M. Reina, of Milan is advertised for sale
at Paris, from 27 April to 17 May, 18S6, by M. Silvestre. We have just re-
ceived a copy of the catalogue, which contains most valuable early Italian
booksy with early editions of the Greek and Latin Classics, particularly Al-
dtnesy and a few manuscripts. There are also many valuable Spanish and
French works. The catalogue contains 1900 articles.

M. de Balzac is preparing ** Les Vend^ens, tableau des Guerres civiles an
I9e si^cle,^ in 2 vols. 18o.

M. Cauchois Lemaire is making preparations for the publication of a new
periodical work, entitled '' Le Progrbs."

Two new English newspapers have just been established in Paris, the
"London and Paris Courier, and the ** Paris Herald." The latter contains
somo columns in French, and is much approved for its commercial intelli*
gence.

The attention of the Foreign Traoslatiou Committee of the Society for Pro-
pagating the Gospel has lately been directed to the state of the French versions
of the Script uresy and the importanoe of procuring or adopting a standard ver«
sion in that language. From a communication made by the Bishop of Win-
chester to the Committee, it appears that no fewer than {bur different versions
are indiscriminately used in the Channel Islands, and that there are altogether
at least six distinct versions in use among the French Protestants, a circum-
stance which occasions much confusion in their churches, schools, and families*
His lordship recommends, a» a remedy for this inconvenience, that the Com-
mittee should publish a new or thoroughly revised edition of the Holy Scriptures
in French, taking for the basis the Paris edition of Martin's translation, which
approaches nearest to the English version. This recommendation has been
adopted, and the Committ^ are taking measures to carry it into effect. With
regard to the Liturgy, the Bishop is of opinion that the French version now in
Qse in the churches of the Channel Island may be safely adopted bv the
Society, subject to certain corrections; the portions of Scripture hereafter to
be taken from the proposed new version of the Society,

GERMANY.

\ The tendency of the works of the writers assuming the distinctive appella-
tion of " Das jooge Deutscbland," or " Die junge Litteraiur," has been de-
nounced by a resolution of the Germanic Diet, as directed << undisguisedly to
Attack the Christian religion, to degrade all existing social relations, and to
overthrow, morality and decency." On these grounds the confederated go-
vernments engage to use all the means in their power for the suppression of
^1 works proceeding from this school; " to which belong more particularly
Heinrich Heine, Karl Gutzkow, Heinrich Laube, LudoJph Wienbarg, and
Theodor Mundt/* artd for the prosecution of the authors, publishers, printers,
^nd circulators of such works. In consequence of this measure, Gutzkow
VOL. XVII. NO. XXXIII. R

S42 Miscellaneous Literary Notices.

himself has been brought before the tribunal at Mamibeini, cbai^^ with an
attack on the established religion of the grand-duchj of Baden, and sentenced
to an imprisonment of ten weeks, reckoning from the day of his apfirehen-
sion, and payment of one-third of the costs. The works of the writers named
above are of course now prohibited in all the States composing the Gennsoiic
confederation. Besides these, the two following works have been declared
confiscated in Saxony: — ** Die Revolution, ein bistorisch-romantisches Sittea*
gem'alde der neuen Zeit," by August Scbafer, 2 vols; and ** Das Manifest der
Vernunft,'^ by Fr. Clemens; and the Bavarian government has prohibited
"Fieschi/' by Ernst Ortlepp; and the work of Clemens just mentioued.

Ludwig Bechstein, whose fondness for the ancient traditions of Germany
has been shown in other publications, is engaged in collecting the Traditions
of Thuringia — ** Die Sagenschatz und die Sagenkreise des Thiiringer lAndes,**
the first volume of wliich is published.

Brockhaus of Leipsic has commenced, with 1836, a weekly publication,
with the title of << Allgemeine Bibliographic fur Deutschland,'' which will fur-
nish as complete a view as can be given of the books published in Germany,
with notices of such as are in preparation, and miscellaneous intelligence;,
literary and bibliographic.

The second volume of G. G. Gervinus' ^'Gescbichte der poetiscben National
litteratur der Deutschen,*^ which embraces the period between the end of
the 13th century and the Reformation, has appeared. The third and con-
eluding volume will be published in the course of the present year.

Dr. Herman Ulrici of Berlin has published the first volume of his Hbtory
of Grecian Poetry,'' Gescbichte der UellenischenDicbtkunst,'' in the form of
Lectures.

F. H. von der Hagen has commenced a collection of Eastern Tales, trans-
lated from the Persian, Turkish, and Arabic, by various hands^ under the title
of ** Tausend und Eiu Tag." The first volume is published.

Weber, of Bonn, has in the press, ''Grammatik der romanischen Spraehen,*
by Fr. Diez, a work which promises to furnish as complete a view of all the
languages derived from the Latin, that is to say, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese,
French, Provenpal, and Wallachian, as Grimm's well-known work has given
of the languages of German origin.

M. Spazier, who has for a year past conducted the Revue du Nord at
Paris, is engaged upon a work exhibiting a picture of the present state of li-
terature in France, with the title of '' Lebens und Litteraturbilder aos Frank-
reicb."

Professor Fallmerayer has published an investigation of the Origin of the
modern Greeks, read before the Bavarian Academy of Sciences. In this
work he enters more deeply into the question concerning the influence ezer*
cised by the occupation ot Greece by the Slavonians, upon the fate of the city
of Athens and the country of Attica, than he had previously done in the first
volume of his ** History of the Morea during the Middle Ages.''

Miscellakeous lAterary Notices. 243

A third voliinieof Prince Packler-Muskau's Travels, published with the title
of ** Vorletzter Weltgnng, von Semilasso/' has just appeared. It contains a
narrative of his travels through the Pyrenees and the South of France, till his
embarkation for Africa. Another volumei by the same author, which he
calls '' Jogendwanderungen/' was published at the same time with the above-
mentioned work. It consists of reminiscences, extracts from diaries, and
travaliiog observations made in earlier life.

Hammericb of Altona is publishing a ** Staats-Lexicon,'' or Encycloptedia
of all the Political Sciences, edited by C. von Rotteck and C. von Welcker.
It nombers among its contributors many highly respectable names in German
literature. Seven parts have appeared.

Frederick Fleischer of Leipzig, encouraged by the success which his reprint
of Bulwer's works met with, has announced a very cheap and handsome edi-
tion (in English) of Captain Marryatt's works; and Vieweg of Brunswick had,
shortly before his death, commenced a German translation of them.

Loden's ^ Greschichte des Deutschen Volkes" has proceeded to the tenth
volume^ which is just published, and contains the history of Germany under
Lothair the Saxon, and the first Hohenstaufiens, Conrad III. and Frederick L

Ferdinand Wolf of Vienna, in conjunction with Stephen Endlicher, has re-
)irifited a very curious early German metrical history of Friar Rush, that
singolar personage of middle age superstition, which they have dedicated to
the brothers Grimm, and to our countryman Mr. W. J. Thorns, the accom^
plithed editor of the ** Early English Prose Romances" and of the " Lays
and Legends'' of all nations. We believe that Mr. Thoms first pointed out
the existence of an early German poem on this subject, a copy of which he
accidentally met with in England. Several copies of other editions were
afterwards found in Germany. Only fifty copies of this curious book have
been printed. It is accompanied by a learned introduction.

A very interesting and well-conducted periodical, or rather as we once
beard a somewhat similar undertaking styled at Cambridge, occasional publi-
cation, was commenced last year at Leipzig, under the title of ** AMeotsche
Blatter,'^ devoted to the early literature and language of Germany, and edited
by Maurice Haupt and Henry Hoffman. Three parts are to be published
every year. We have yet seen only two; the third was advertised for publi-
cation towards the end of 1835.

The subscription opened for the erection of a monument at Mentz, in com-
memoration ot Gensneisch, or Gutenberg, the inventor of printing, amounts
to about 15,500 florins; the total expense is estimated at 17/)00 or 18,000,
and the city of Mentz has engaged to supply the deficiency in case further
coatribntions should not be received. The model was furnished by Thor-
waldsen; and it will be cast in bronze by Crozatier of Paris, who undertook
the work upon condition that he should only be repaid his own expenses. It
is expected that it will be erected in the month of August or September next,
and opened with musical entertainments and other festivities.

The well-known bookseller and printer, Karl Clir. Traug. Tauchnitz, of
Leipzig, died suddenly of apoplexy, in the night of the 13th of January. He
was born in 176 1^ at Grossparthau, near Grimma, and was bred a printer. At
the age of thirty-five he commenced business on his own account with a single

b2

S44 MmeHfimQu% lJi{erarji l^^iof^

press; his establishment soon became vecj^eictfiiifiTe; i|i ),8Q04i^ u9|iM4.wiih
It a letter-foundrjr and the bookselling business. Sixteen jexM-^.«fjerw»rfU« he
established a stereotype foundry on Lord Stanhope's princiulepK^na tlni^ sntio-
duoed into Germany an art that was then scarcely known tbexf by none*. Hus
undertaking had on important influence upon the other brmo<;hes of iiV9 todei
and especially upon the collection of classic authors hc^ui). by bins ia Vl^
and his editions of the Bible. He was most indefatigable in improvtog and
perfecting whaterer he took in baud, fur which object he spared no ook — as
ail the works which he produced and his specimens pf types si^Jcie^tlj|[:«uaft.
Soeh a collection as his new oriental types for instance ex)iibit^ csA^sc^coely
be matched in Germany. It was he too who first auempted ^ klct^s^
music. With this indefatigable and enterprising spirit io Krfi^^ be ^jpViMd
that of acti?e and extensive beneficence* • : :.'

Sm3 . .1. .' ■

. ' ' '•

NORWAY,

Christiania, in Norway, numbers at present sia .bOQkseller«'Midl lekstn
printing-odicesy which are almost excinsiRely etnpA^Oftd. vjmmi AQboeMooks,
periodicals, and pampl^ts. Two Penny Magsc^inee^ wbidii a«e.. published
weekly, and chiefly consist of translations froo) similar GenMo «m«li(flf<faai«a
more estensit'e circulation than any other periodicals, the numfaftr of jaiioc^ fast
not increased during the last three years. The " Norwegian Morgenblatt**
continues to be the fairourite newspaper; but it has been lately prohibi^^dJn
the Danish dominions, though no decrease has b^u perceived ia its slJ^ on
account uf an article on che Danish provincial states, which involred Hie pro;-
prietVFSi ior aaait'intftituted by the Danish ambassador at StOckho!in,u ^Wc
ended, however, in their complete acquittnl. lite ^Collections for tKeUis-
tefy of the Pe<»pie and Language of Norway,'^ a work winch appears in 'quar-
terly QumbersyBiid baa |]iowerfully tended to promote archeological'studSes, is
carried on with zeal and activity. Jostitiai^ BeVg, Captain Munthe, linif Pro-
feasor Luntfai are the prinoipai contribntors to this learned publication. It is
a ramarkidble mcumstance chat ac the end of 1834 the first Bible printed in
Norway was prod uced, with ooiisiderable typographical el^^ance, byurQiHlabl^
ofChnatiaobu

RUSSIA.

In the imperial public library of Petersburgh there are roori^ tbai^.^POO
roanuscrint and hitherto unptibllshed documents for the history bt France.
Among tnese there are ^55 papers and original letters of kiugSp queens «pd
priaefa, from St. Louis to Louis aIV. in three volumes; a cplle^fiaa of I^Ufvs
and origifml papers by Henry IL and Francis 11.^ and U4 by celehcata^^^fc-
sons between At years f477 and 1497; principally addressed to Lquis^Jl^^ftful
QmrlesVlII.; £05, mostly autography letters from Cntherii>e.()^JitedMa^^3
of «hich are to her son ChArles IX., 4^ to Henry lit., 60 to Marshaf Villero^
letters and despatches from Catherine de Medici, as regent of France, to Count
de Cizy, her ambassador at Constance ;' 137 letters^ sketches and instructions
hj the hand of Charles l\^ in. fcwo vdiunes; 4G letters froad th« dot^hin
Francis, 1560— 1586; 80 letters and other pnpers l^ "Marshal de Bftoriuc^
1563—1670; 200 original state papers of the years 1561—1688; 363 auto-
graph letters of Henry IIL; 64 lft4he^4)ncav lus mother, and his brother.

JUisceJlaneatis Idterarj/ Notices. 245

Cfiarles IX., 87 from Prancis, duke of Alen^on, the last prinoe of the bouse

of VaUjis ; 48 original letters of the Montmorencies, three of which are froai

the conatable and 14 from the marshal ; 250 autograph letters of the kingsand

princes of Navarre and Bourbon, 3? of which are bj^ Margaret, consort of

Ilenry IV. ; more than 600 manuscript and mostly original papers and letters

by Uenrjr IV., together with upwards of 300 original despatches to his ambas*

sadors in Rome, London and Venice; upwards of 300 original letters and

papers by Louis XIIL, together with the despatches of his ambassadors and

statesmen, especially Collnert, Richelieu, Mazarin, &c.; more than SOOO stat^*

papen, reports, andf letters from ambassadors, ministers and the most eminent

oontempofary literati and artists, addressed to the Chancellor Seguier; and^

lastly, papers by various literary men, which were deposited in the archives ^

the Bastille, among which are several from the band of J. J. Rousseau, and 86

autograph letters, poems, &c. by Voltaire. Besides the above, this valuable

collection contains other important maCeriafs for French history alone too

numerous to be speciBed in the limits of our brief notice. Add to these a

very great number of original letters and stale-papers by sovereigns and mi*

nisters of Portugal* Spain, £ngland, and Scotland, (among them seven by Mary

Stuart,) Savoy, Italy, (from Rome alone 93 original bulls and briefs since the

11th century,) Switzerland, Holland, Sweden, Denmark, Poland and Turkey,

and it miist be allowed that Petersburg possesses a store of historical docur

laents hitherto untouched, nay almost unknown, that can scarcely be matched

ia any other coontvy^

The privy councillor von Kuhler has lately had printed at the presaof'tfae
Academy of Sciences at St. Petersburg, a splendid work in 4to. intituled ^ lU
lustrations of a Memoir addressed by P.P. Rubens to N. C. Fabri dePeireso.''
This memoir is dated Antwerp, August 3, 1693. Peireso had sent some gems
to Rubens, who took a lively interest in every thing that related to ancient
art; upon which the painter replied that he could not explain to his satisfhctioki
tbe engraving upon one of them. The g,em itself disappeared in the course of
time, and nothing was left of it but the drawin^^ which Rubens made and in-
closed in his letter. The original of the latter is now in the royal colleecion
of engravings at Paris, and bound up with the drawing at the beginmng of the
first volume of the " (Euvres de Rubens.^ M. von Kbhler has been loduoed
by the figure of the bell or vase-shaped symbol on the gem in question, to have
repiesentationt of a series of gems and amulets, on which similar symbols
occur, and tbe origin of which is ascribed to the Gnostics and Basiltdians,
drawn and engraved. Only two of them had been previously eoeraved and
very few descrioed. Almost all these stones are hematites, and nearly all
have upon the reverse the same ro;|rthical inscription^ In M. von Kofalei^s
opinion the bell-sliaped vessel which is found upon tlie gems sometioies by
itself, at others surrounded by figures of £Sgyptian deities, is a reproflentaliaa
of one of the buckets (j^t^xpi) belonging to the Egyptian wheels. for raisiag
water to irrigate the land; and these gems appear to have been analets- for
averting dangerous diseases, &c to which the never-failine adjuration on tiie
reverse bears reference, llie lAthor considers the stone wnich puzaled Riitois
as spurious, and as a deception of Chaduc^s, who is meatkmed by Jiiflvin hia
letter.

A Russian translation of Ancillon'a * Tableau des Revolutions du Systlme
Politique de TEurope," is in preparation.

946 Miscettaaeom Literttry Nuicet^

SPAIN.

The Roy«I library at Madrid now contains about 150,000 TolQines. and,
through the activity and judicious management of the new librarian PatiocK
who was appointed to that office in August last, it has been rendered much
more accessible to the public by better regulations, a oomplete catalogue, &c.
New books are also procured from abroad, after a suspension of all intercoorae
with foreign countries for above thirty years. At the suggestion of M. Patioo,
the archives of Don L. Salazar de Castro, former^ kept in the dissolved con-
vent of Mootserrat in Madrid, have been deposited in one of the rooms con-
Uinins the MSS, of the royal library. The beautiful collection of coins which,
(hough it does not comprehend 146,000 pieoes, as Gonzalez, the librarian,
assured the late Kinj^ Ferdinand VII. in an address to that monarch, isvet one
of the most copious and complete in Europe, but had latterly been su&red to
get into extreme confusion, luis during the last half-year been newly arranged
by de Quevedo. It consists of 90^227 coins ; 8672 of which are of gold,
dO,672 of silver, 51,186 of copper, 366 of lead, 60 of wood; 835 oasU in wai,
and 4386 in planter.

ORIENTAL LITERATURE.

Mrs. Davids has completed a French translation of the excellent Tarkish
Grammar by her lamented and highly-gifted son, Arthur Lumiey Davids,
When we consider the wide diffusion of the French language, and the utility
of the Turkish to the diplomatist, the merchant, and the scholar, we canooc
refrain from expressing our satisfaction that Mrs. Davids has been iacUioed
to translate the work. The King of the French has been pleased to loUow in
the steps of the present enlightened Sultan of the Gsmanlis, in graciously per-
mitting the French edition to be dedicated to him. We have no dovbt that
the admirable preliminary Discourse will awaken considerabie interest Mnoag
the Orientalists of the continent.

• Fabstiof Darmstadti has puUisbed in Svo. ^ Die Ghia«tiioh»SptaGke in
ihreo Rechteo als Sprache,** or, the Chinese Language in its geoaral Form^ioa
compared with thai of sone ether languages of difiaieiii NatiaM, Isjr £.
iUiiianbaig*

A valame by Jalius Furat has jatt appeared at Letpiig with the title of
^ Pefienschniire aram&iseher Gnomen und Lieder," er AramsBic Cbresto-
matbie, with explanationa and a glossary; which forms at once a useful exer-
eise book for the scholar, an interesting work for the lovers of oriental poetry,
and an iaiportant asiisunt to the promoters of Sanscrito-Semitic studies.

Mr. F. Nies, typefounder and printer of Cepzig, in order to remedy the
iacoavenience felt by all persons engaged in works in which hieroglyphics
occur, and which has hitherto compelled them to resort to the assistance of
the engraver or wood-cutter, has had a series cut from the best models on steel
and cast them as types, with the greatest success^ They will be employed in
a work which he is at present printing.

The last Report of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, for the
year 1835| contains an interesting, Report of the Foreign Ttansdation Com-

Miscellaneous Literary Notices* S47

mittee. One of the first objects of this Committee, on its appointment, was the
state of the Oriental versions of ^e Scriptures, especially m those languages
which are spoken in tlie British dominions in India. Its inquiries were assisted
by II. H. VVilson, Esq. professor of Sanscrit in the University of Oxford, who
enumerates thirty-seven versions of the whole, or of portions, of the Bible,
which have been accomplished, and fifteen which are in progress. At the bead
of the Bengal versions tne Professor places the Sanscrit. When the present
version was undertaken, tlie language had been but little studied^ and no
standard compositions in it had been printed. The translation is therefore
necessarily defective in point of style, and, though generally faithful, it is such
as no native scholar could read with pleasure. He therefore considers it very
desirable that a new Sanscrit version should be undertaken, not only on ac»
count of the extensive circulation which might be expected, in consequence of
its being intelligible to Sanscrit scholars from one end of India to the other, but
because it might be made a common standard to all the vernacular dialects of
the country for abstract and doctrinal terms. He observes that most, if not all,
the current forms of speech in India are dependent upon Sanscrit for word! to
express metaphysical ideas; and that^ if they had a fixed source from which to
derive them equally available to all, a uniform phraseology would be established
in India, as it nas been in Europe. The Committee have authorised the Bishop
of Calcutta and the Principal of Bishop^s College to take such measures as they
may deem proper for effecting a new version of the Holy Scriptures into San-
scrit, upon the principles recommended bv Professor Wilson. The other Indian
versions which have been recommended by the Professor, and to which the
Committee have directed their attention, are Bengali, Uriya, Hinduwi, and
Hindustani^ for Upper liidia ; Mabratta and Guzeratti, for the West ; and Tamul
and Telugu, with Aanara and Malayalam, for the South. Some of the versions
are expected to require but little improvement to make them suitable ibr the
purposes *of the Society. The Committee have also empowered the Biriiop and
the Priseipal of Bishop's College to proceed with such Oriental versions of th^
Liturgy as they may deem requisite upon the principles laid down in Professor
Wilsmi's Report.

A new Arabic version of the Liturgy made at Malta by a leafned native of
Bagdad, under the inspection of the tlev. C. F. Schlienz, is in a state of for-
wardness; but its completion is delayed owing to the absence of the native
translator, who has been engaged to accompaoy Colonel Ghesney's expedition
to the Euphrates.

A mod!lrn Greek version of the Liturgy is also in prepamtion. It will be
executed by Professor Bambas and Mr. Nicolaides, under the superiAtendence
of the Rev. H. D. Leeves, whose knowledge of the language and biblical
learning peculiarly qualify him for sudi a duty.

•mm

( «48 )

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL NEW WORKS

PUBLISHED ON THE COHTIKENT,

■

FjiOM Januaby to Mamch, 1886, inolubits.

THEOLOGY AND ECCLESIASTICAL LITERATDRE.

1 Bibliotheca Htur|pca stadio PmU Carl'u Vol. II. Fmc« I. 8vd.
t FHmtate, lutitasioDi di Teologu c«nonico-mor&le* Vol. 1, ISmo,

3 Marcbetti, G.» Critaca della Sloria cociMiMtioa e de' DUooni deU' Abate CUadio

Fleory. Bvo.

4 Bonma Sonmae S. Thonao, aite Gompeodium Ui«ologi«e r. palria CaroK Benntti

BUluard. ord. fratram praedicat. etc. 4 Vols* Fol. ,

5 Knobd, A., Conmentac iiber daa Buch Koheleth. 8ro» tOs.

6 Amdt, F.« Der Man nach dem Henen Gottes. Neunzeben Predigteii ilber Daridi

Leben. 8vo. 58.

7 Klee, Dr. H., KatfaoIiBcbe Do|Riatik. later Bd. 8vo. 8a»

8 AmbeiiD, H., Das Buch Job, iibersetzt and Tolistaodig commentirt. Bto. 8s*

9 Auerbacb, B., Das Judeotbum und die iieaeste Literatur. Bvo. 59«
10 Miihlenhoff; J. A., Pred}gten. 8n>. ds.

il Bleekt Dr. F., Der Brief an die Uebiier. Bta Abtheilong. Oto. IBs.
19 Creaoer, Dr. K., Einleitong m das neue Testament. Ister Thl. 8vo. Jfs.

13 Tholock, Dr. A., Kommeutar aaio Brie/e an die Hebriier. Bvo. 9s.

14 La C16, Dr., De Jesa Christ! instituendi metbodo hominttm iogenia ezoolente.

8to. IDs.

15 Collectio selecta S. S. ecclcs. pair, coropl. ez^ulsitis. opera turn apoU et orator.

accurant.

LAW AND JURISPRUDENCE.

16 Naville, F. M. L.» De la Cbarit^ legale, de ses effects, de ses causes, et spcclale-

meni dea .maHona do travail et do la proscriptioo de la Mendidt^, t Vpl*»
8vo. 15*.

17 Sainte-Cbapelle. Kl^inena de Xej^tlon et d* Administration pour la p%U et Is

gaerre. Ire Livr. 8vo. Ss.

18 Kitka, J.» Die Bevreialebro iiQ osterreicbischeQ Civil-Prooesse* 8vo« 5s.

MORAL PHILOSOPHY, METAPHYSICS, EDUCATION,

AND POLITICAL ECONOMY.

19 Peyronoy, Considerations politiques sur la Culonie d'AIgttr. 8vo. 4s«
SO Blaochaid, UEoole des Moeurs. S Vols. 8vo. 5s.

f 1 Saporta, I« de. Esprit politione et social du 19«ie Siecle, Ire Partie. 8vo.

29 Robiano, Abb^ Corote de, rbilosophie th^ortque et pratiqoo de la litteratore.

8vo. 78. 6d.
35 GiorginI, G., Element! dS BUtica. Svo.
93*Genovesi, A., Logica e Metafisica. 8vo.

94 Schmidt, Dr. £., Ueber Begriff and Mogligkeit der PiOiaaophie. Stpt 9u
94*Biilow, Fr., Der Staat and die Gemeinde und ihre Behorde. Bvo. 19b.

List of New Works. S49

MATHEMATICS, PHYSICS, AND CHEMISTRY.

25 Robip, £., CMmhy mcdieale niaoni^*. d'apiis aite ntopelk m^thofU.. 8ro. 8s.

26 Person, C. C, El^mens de Fliysiqiie, a Tosage d6s 6l^7es de PbildsoiAiie. Ire Fartie.

8vo. 4s.

27 Gour^, £., El^meiu de Oeooietjrie ei de IViKonomf trie. 8vo. 7a.

28 Wolff, F., Die beschreibende Geometrie andibre Anwendungen. Ister Thl. 8fo.

16s.

29 LitUow, J. 3^ AoltUang sur bohervn Mnthenatik. Mit 4 KupfiirUf. Bto. 10s.

30 Groiihnisen, F. P., Neue Analekten, fiir Erd- und HimiDels-Kunde. Sten Bdes

Stcs Heft. . 8vo. 3s.
51 Buchner, J. A., Lebrbucb der nmi^fUm^ii Cbemie and Stochiomrtrie. Mit 1
Kapf. 14s.

NATURAL sciences:

32 Savi, Paolo, Stodil geologici solla Toscana. ^to.

33 Bomer, ^., Handbocb der altgem. Botanfk. IsteAbthl. IsteaHelr. 8ra. 3$. 6d.

34 liotiaef, C, Sj*^teina, Gdnera, et Species Pltfntar. Uno Volnmine. Ed. H. £.

Richter. fasc. L et II. 8vo. 10s.

35 Frorlep, Dr. t.. F., Noiizen aus dem Gebiele der Natar- and Heiikiiiide. 47ster Bd.

4to. 10s.

36 petermann, Dr. W., Handbach der OeniScKskondezuiii GebivBCbe bei Vorlesongen.

ftvol' fSs.

37 Link, Dr. H. F., Propyliien der Natarknnde. later I1ii. 8to. 5s.

38 Breithaupt, A., Handbucfa der Mhtetalogie. liter fid. ftvok 128«

MEDICAL SCIENCES, .

39 Soabeiran, lEf.« Nouveau Tratt^ de Pha^made th^orlqtte c( pratTqQc. Tomtf I.

Bto. 89.

40 Devergie, A^, Medicioe Mgale, th€orique ct pratique, etc. Tome II. Ire Partie.

8vo.

41 Tollier, P. J. S^, Da Cancer de la Matrice. 8to. 5s.

42 Omvier, A. ^T., Memoire sur les Maladies mffainiimatoires, €te. Bro. 2s.

43 Riscica, C, Carso di Diritto e di Mcdicina legale. Vol. I. 8vo.

44 Friedreich, Dr. B^ 15i^oriscU-k;*ititc|ie DarsjteUnng der Theorien liber das Wesen

der psjcliischenlC^nkhrften. 8va. 10s.' -
43 Fonk, Dr. K. F. W., Handbuch der speciellen Pathologie und Therapie der gross,
nutzbarcn Haassaugethiere. IsterBd. 8ro. 129.

46 Langer, Dr.', Der Mehsch im gesuhdetr und kranken Lebensaostande. 8vo. 7s.

47 Langenbcck, Dr. B.« De retina observat. anatQmico-pathulogicae. 4to. Bs.

48 BSnoinghflosen, Dr. C., V^rsuch iiber die Verwandscbaften der bomdopathiscben

Arzneien. 8vo. 79.

49 Bucbm^er, Al, Handbucb derCftemle ftir angebende Thiev^nte und O^kotionen.

8to. 7s.
^ StlPibf^er, Dr-L., Ueber Paraijfse der Inspirati^ns-Maskebu. 8vo, , 5s. . ^
^1 Bleekrode, S., Corouientatio cle Homoeopathia, 8vo. 5s. ^ ^

52 Wenael, Dr. K., Die Fortscbrttte tind Erttdeckunged iii<serer Zeit im Gebiete der

medicinis^ben und cbirurgjIscheD Diagnostik. later Tbl. 8vo. 3s.

MISCELLANEOUS.

53 Encyclopedia des Gens du Monde. Tome VI. Premiere Partie. 8vo. 5s.

54 Bottin, S., Almanach da Commerce de Paris, dea d.eparteineiis de la France et des

principales villes du Rojaume. Pour 1836. 8vo. I2s«

55 Sageftt^ P. P.| Ai»NittMb et Annuaire des Ba^inena, des Tra?aux publics, etc.

Poor 18S6. I81110. SsL 6d*.
VOL. XVn. NO. XXX 111. s

1250 tisi of Uew Works

56 Aimoaire pour Tan 1836, present^ aa Koi, par te bureau des longitudes* lOmo. It.

57 Deiiiolieie» Bdjne. Hirsriette, Cons^ila aux jcunet Femme^ oa Lettres sur.le Bonbear

domestique* 8vo. 6s.

58 Dubreuil, P. J., Manoel du Mat^IoU'ge et' de Mtnoeuvre. 8iNi. '

59 Oaaparin, RecwU d« Mcmoiret d'Agriculbirp et d'£c«ooade rurale. Tome IK

8vo. 6s.

60 Connatssancc des Terns, pow Vwx 1058* 8vo. 7s.

«1 'Get)ealog|s£h-hist^ffboli-si«listiagber.AlM«iMwb f ilir.t836«. IDs.

62 Klcrom, Dr. G., Uandbuch der gerniasiacheii Altertbumsknnde. JUit i5 TaH

8to. laa*

63 Loaiau, Genecal-LicttteDanl von« Ideate der Kriegsfuhrung, in ebier Ana};^ dcr

Thaten der grossten Feldherren. Mit Karten uudPJanen. .I»l«a3dea.. late
vndSteAbihL 8«o. li»4s. t

64 Decker, C. von. Die Truppen-VersaiDiolung bei Kaliscli im Soromor iSS^.&vo. 7s.

65 Dieterici, W., Gescbichtliche und statistische Nachricbten tiber die UoiTeisiUtea

im Preussiscbeo Slaat^ Qvo. 6s.

66 Bottiger, C. A., Ideen'zur Kuustaijthologie. tier £d, Bto. 15s.

67 Bibliuibek der gesamniten deptKbeii Natio«al-3uilcratur. Ister Bd. 8vo.. .7^ 6d-

68 Seidier, L., Mjtbologtie 4cr alten Volker, baupt^hlicbi der Inder, Af|ipter,

Griecben und Koi^er. MU SfO X«f« 2 Tbie. 8vo. l5«.

«' I

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, VOYAGES, TRAVELS^>c,

■i>:

69 Merle d*Aubign6, J. H., Histoire de U Reformation du 16ew^ Sidc!c« .Teme I.

8vo.

70 Tbibaudeau, A. C, Le ConsuJat ei J^Eiopire, ea THisloire de la Fieiuje «c dc

Napoleon Bonaparte, de 1799 k 1815. Tomes IX. et X. 8vo. l?a.

71 Miraflores, Marquis de, Essais bistor, et ciit. pouc aervir a THistoire d'Byps^e

de 1890 a 1823. Tome I. 8to.
7t Tregnon, A., Etudes aar i'UiatoIre de France et siir quelqiies points de l-9istoii-e
moderne. 8vo. 78.

73 ]Kognipbie Universelle* ancienne et moderne. Tome LX. 8vo. 7s.

74 Membires du Prince de la Paiz, Don Mauuel Godoy, par J. G. d'Esnienard.

Tomes I. & II. 8vo. 15s.

75 Chabo, J. A., Vo^^ge en Nayarre pendant I'Insurrection des ]3asques, 1830-1835.

8vo. 78. 6d.

76 Annuaire liistorique, de Tanciennc Noblesse de France. 8ro, 7s. 6d.

77 Archives curieuses de I'Histoire de France, depuis Louis XI. jus<|u'a Loois XVltt.

Ire Serie. 8vo. 7s. 6d.
* 78 Hammer, J. de, Histoire de ('Empire Ottoman. Tomes III. et IV. 8 to. 15».

79 Tofeoo, le Comte de, Histoire du SouljSvemcut de la Guerre et dc la Revolution

d'F^pagne. Tome IV. 8vo. 7s. 6d,

80 Nicolini, G., Vita de Giorgio Lord B^ron. 4 Vols. 18mo.

' 81 Capecelato, Storia del Regno di Napoli e Sicilia. Vol. IL 24mo«

82 Varese, C, Storia della Republica di Genova dalla sua origine sino al 1814.

Vol. I. 8vo.

83 Grossc, ^., Peter der Grosse in seinem Lcben und Wirken. $6de. 8to. 1f«.

84 Mendelssohn, Dr. G., Das germanische Europn. 8vo. 14s.

8$ Norder,. £., Jiinuy, oder Erlnnerungen einer Keise durch Deutschland, Frankreich
undltaljen. Ister, und 2ter Thl. 8ro. I89.

86 R^umer, F. Yon/Engfand inijalire 18.55. 3 Thie. l3mo. 1/. 5s.

87 Tietz, Legatioosrath, Eriiinerungs-Skizzen aus Russiand, der Turkel und Gffe-

chenland. Entworfea in den 7abren 1833 und 1834. t Thie. 8vci. 9s.
88.Maurcr, G. L. von, Das griechiKbe Volk in offeiiilichcr, kirchticher, und privit-

rechtlicber Besiehung vor ood noch dem Freibeitskample lyls zum 31 Jttl), 1834.

3 Bde.' 8vo. 1/. 15s. '

99 Wolff, Q. L. B., Briefe, pescbrieben auf ekier Reise JSngi dem NiederrMn dorch

Belgieo nach Paris. 8ro* 99.

PuUuheA M the Continent . 251

90 Korber, P. tool, BUder aoi der Lombardei. GrsammeU in den Jmbren 1834 und

1&35. 8v0. 4k

91 Buctiholtx, F. B. voiii Geschichte der Regierong Ferdinand I. Tier Bd. 8vo.
9* — _, Hifltoriscbes Taschenbucb. 16ter Jahrgang. Itmo. 10s.

POETRY, THE DRAMA, &c.

9A Borand, J. B., La FoMf dt FontnlMbllea'o. Po^lnje. 4§.

94 Monbrion, Les Phenomenes de KUnivers. Poisnie «n'(l cHants. it cbant* 8vo.

95 Craon, Mnie. la Princesse de, Deox Dfames. 8vo. 5s,
9^ La StTonette Imperiale. Comedle. 8vo. Ss.

97 I>s Assasins sans le savoir. Drenic. 8to.

98 La Chute de ITinpire. Draroe 6pop^. 9vo. 6s.

99 CTftlrnioni; C, MoYse. £pop^ eu dooze chants. 8vo. 7s. 6d.

100 Lamartine, A. de Jocelvn, Episode, f Vofi. 8v6. 15s.

101 Baideric, Chant re de Terouane ao onsieme Siecle, Chroniqoe d* Arras et de

Cambrat. Tradulte en Prancals par Faverof. 8^0.
lOt LaYerpiIliere, A., Les detix Mahomcti^s. Com^die. ' 8to. fs.

103 Fnnerj, Ad., L'Honneur de ma Fille. Prame. 8vo. fs. 6d.

104 Lacenaire apres sa Condemnation. ' Drame. 8voi. 7s. 6d.

106 Navarrete, P. F. Manuel, Entrelenimientos poeticos. S Vols. l8mo.

106 Ranees, Manuel, Don Crisanto, 6 la politico-mania. Coiuedia.

107 Lembert, Alroanach dramaf. Spiele f 9r 1836; f8Rio. 71.'

108 Raopacb, Dr, £., Das Bliibrclien im Traom. £in draroat. Gedicht. Ifmo. 4s.

109 KBnig, H., Die Bussfiihrt. Tmoersyiel. 8to. 4s.

110 Alexis, W., Balladen. 8vo. 4s.

111 Niemann, F., Gedichte. 8yo. 5s*
llf Richard, J. F., Gedichte. ttmo. 7s«
lis Alifeld, Etwine, Gedichte. 8ro. 78.

114 Bobrick, K. W. F., Gedichte. t Bdchen. 8ro. 5a.

115 Callenius, G., Die Prinsen von Oranien. Geachichtlicba Gemiilde in dramit.

Form. 8vo. 4s.

NOVELS AND ROMANCES.

116 Corbi^re, £., Le Banian ; Bonun raaritiine. S Vols. 8vo. I5s.

117 Raymond, M., La Valise de Simon le borgne. 2 Volt. 8vo. 15s*

118 Renal, C. A., Noovelles et Legendes. 8vo.

119 Vallee, H., Les Enfans de Troupe. Roman. 4 Vols. tSmo. 12s.
190 Delatottche, H., France et Marie. 8 Vols. 8vo. 15s.

lit Gotlis, Mad. Isabella, ou les Maures en France. 4 Vols. 12roo* iSs.
Its Madame de Para here, Chroniques du Palais Royal* 2 Vols. 8vo. Ids.
125 Benoist da Sablon, Mademoiselle de la Faille ou le Pou^oir du Baiser, Dramc
8?o.

124 Lacroix, J., Le Tcntateur. 8vo. 7s. 6d.

125 Contes et Nuuvellcs Bretonnes. 8vo. 5s.

126 Cliarpennet P., Mon Voyaee au Mexiane. 2 Vola. 8vo. 15s*

127 Perrin, M., La Servante Maitresse. Moeurs popalaires. 2 Vols. 8vo. 15$.

128 Moncuae, Mme. T.#Trois ans apres. 8vo. 7s. 6d.

129 Biedenfeld, Frcilierr von, Novellcn und Uunte Blatter. 2 Bde. 12mo. 15s.

130 Christen, F. £., £rich. Histor. Roman. 3 Bde. 12mo. I8s*

131 Morvdl, Dr., Furchtlos und Tren. Histor. Ruraan. 3 Bde. 8vo. I8s.
152 Roder, E. A. F*. Hugo von Wolfsthal. 2 Bde. 12mo. 12s.

133 Schopenhauer, J*, Der Bcttler von Sonkt Columba. Margaretba von Schgttland.

Zwei Novelkn. 12 mo. 8s«
134 ^— , Die Reise nach Italien. Novelle. 12mo. 8s.

135 Scbefler, H., Bilder ohne Rahmen. 2 Thle. 12mo. I5s.

136 Banels, F., GulielnK), der Bandit von Rome. Roman. 2 Bde. 12mo. 10s.
1S7 Ludwig, C. F., Gebilde der Phantasie fiir Geist und Hers. 12mo. 6i.

£52 LittofN/euiWorh,

CLASSICAL LITERATURE, PHILOLOGY, AND

138 Vannier, V. A., Dictionnure grammatical critique et pbilosopbiqQe de la Laoptc
Fran9aise. 8vo. 7s.

Octav. CasUllionaeus. 4lo.

141 Kannegicsser, Dr. C, Italiiinische Graromatik. Svo. 4a.

142 Graff, Dr. E., Althochdeutachcr.SprachachaU. , 5le Lief. 4to. 5a.

143 Schmidt, Dr. A., OrganisidlR Qtff AlHMicllSK Sprache. later ThI. Svo. 3i.

144 AristophaDii Comoediae. £d. F. Frita'sche. Vol.1. Sto. lOi.

145 Bopp, F., Vereleicheade Granimatik des SanscriL Zend, Griech., LateiD.* Utlu,
. I) GQth.> iind PautfdMm 3tdAbUil. 4to. , M ' .^ • I 1 T

146 ;-, Vocalismus, oc^cr. spr^dbvergleich^i^^. ^ri^vk^o ^Ulfer J. ^prfaua'i

' ' deatscbe'Ghimmatik und Graff's Sprachscliatx. 8to.. * ,

14fr Asii, Uxicoa Piatorilcum. Vol. I., FVsc. IV. h V. Wl. I[., ftAcJ.' 6f0.
16s. I . .•.•':•!

148 Buchmano, Scbolia in Homcri Iliadem Codice Bibl. Paull. Faac* H* 8vft>

90.6d. ' • , ' ." ■*' •'•'

149 Catatogus codicom roanoscriptor. bibliotliecao palaL VinlcibOB^sU. pWs I*

Codices phiioloK, lat, dig* S. Eodliclier. . 8tqu 16i.

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LaadoB; C. K»wrorth fc8»"at^'Hrti firt, yia.yte Bar.

THE

FOREIGjy

QUARTERLY REVIEW-

mmmmmmm

Art. I. — 1 . Vorhtzter Weligang von Semil4tiS(h^Traum und Wti'»
chen. Am den Papieren des Verstorbenen. 3 Bande. Stutt«
garti J 835. (Travels ia Germany and France. By Prince
Piickler-Muskau.)

2. Conversations-'Lexicon der veuesten Zeit und Literaiur, 1833*
Voce '' Pttckler-Muskau."

When Prince Piickler-M uskau published his celebrated Tour,
which, as our readers will recollect, was most severely and merci*
lessly attacked by two of our most respectable and influential
journals, we thought it our duty to stand forward as the cham-
pions of the much-reviled tourist, and to expose the narrowness of
Uiose English prejudices which had smarted sore under the
sweeping and uncompromising criticisms of a free-spoken fo-
reigner. But our estimate of the German Prince and his Tour
was by no means so high, or expressed in such unqualified terms
of admiration, as that which appears to have been formed by
noany cotemporary British and continental critics,* We have,
since that period, imposed it on ourselves as a duty to keep a
close watch over the literary proceedings of the German Prince,
and we have now, especially since the perusal of his latest work,
— tlie mystic title of which stands at the head of this articles-
come to the conclusion that Prince Piickler-Muskau, so far from
being a writer of whom Germany has reason to be proud, (as the
author of the article in the Conversations-Lexicon seems to ima-
gine,) is a vain coxcomb, and a frivolous and superficial scribbler
of silly sentimentalities, shallow witticisms, and gabbling gossip.
This judgment may appear severe; but we hope, before con-
cluding our present observations, to satisfy our readers, that, not-
withstanding the undoubted merits of the Tour in England and
Wales, such arc and ought to be the terms in which the impartial
critic feels himself called upon to characterize the author of

* See our ninth ▼olsme, p. t90.
VOL. XVII. NO. XXXIII. T

254 Prince Puckler-Muskau and his new Tour»

m

" Tiitti Frutti," and the '* Penultimate World-walk of Semilasso."
Tlie fact of the matter is, that the " Briefe eines Verstorbenen*'
owed their celebritj in a great measure, tliough certainly not
altogether, to extrin^c and accidental circumstances. In the first
place, this work contained the tour of a prince; in the second
placei it was the tour of a German prince; in the third place, it
was not merely a tour, bat a tour made the medium of Ihrcywing
recklessly about certain theological opinions and specohitions,
whose novelty, in (his country at least, was sufficient of itself to
** excite a sensation ;*' in the fouilh place, it was pregnant with
gossip of persons in high places, and profusely studded over with

those personal charades, — in the shape of Lord B s and Ladj

C 8, — which never fail to stimulate the curiosity of even the

most dull and apathetic reader ; in the fifth place, it was patro-
nized by Gothe; and, in the sixth place, it was, as before-men-
tioned, most recklessly and unjustly battered down by certain
redoubted Aristarchs of periodical literature in this country, whose
extravagant censure was with many a sufficient reason', per se, for
no less extravagant eulogium. Four years have now passed away
since Mrs. Austin's translation of the " Briefe^ was given to the
British public; and during that period the Silesian nobleman—
ambitious, it would seem, of fiterary, as he has already Earned
military honours — ^has delivered himself of five sup^ementary
volumes, which, along with the previous four of the Tour, form
a sufficiently well-furnished record from which to pronounce sen-
tence on the intellectual and moral character of their author. We
have made a patient survey of all die papers that compose this
bulky record, and are grieved to express our opinion, nrat what-
ever merit of no vulgar kind they exhibit is more than neutralized
by the superabundant infusion of vanity, frivolity, and affi^tation
with which they are replete. The Prince, indeed, is a strange
compound of an English coxcomb and a German JBursch. The

J[ualities of mind which we have just enumerated seem borrowed
rom the former; add to these the girlish sentimentality, the
dreamy imaginings, the wayward whimsicality, and the break-neck
recklessness, of the latter, and you are in possession of all the in-
gredients out of which a Piickler-Muskau may be composed.
We do not say that the author of the different works above enn-
merated is not possessed of qualities of mind, which might, under
proper regulation, prove of great service either to the state of
which he is a subject, or to the general republic of letters. He
does not want imagination, he does not want feeling; but the one
is under no control of a strong tmderstanding, and the other is
affected in its ^tyle and feminine in its tone. He is possessed of
considerable general information ; but that information is by no

Prince Ptichkr-Mushau and his new Tour. 255

mems of a sound md soUd description, and is composedi.ip a
great aiea&urej of such rags, (some of them purple rags to be sur^j
plucked from the robes of brother princes^) as a man of common
abilities, who has employed a great pavt of bis life in wandering
idly from country to country, could scarcely fail to have collected.
He is neither a man of science, nor a connoisseur in the arts;
he can. make, .and frequently does make^-such pertinent remarks
on pictures and buildings as a man of common feeling and
ideality, who has seen many cities and lounged tlurough many

Eicture-gallerieSi might be expected to make; pretensions, of a
igber order he has none. He does not want enterprise, and a
certain rasii boldness; but these qualities with him do not go
beyond the state in which they are developed in the mind of a
Jena student, big with the swelling desire of '' renowning,'' To
scale " la Briche de Roland,' or the " Pic du Midi'' in the Pyre-
nees, and play fantastic tricks before the sun with Mademoiselle
Reiehard in an air-balloon, are enterprises which seem sufficiently
to gratify the appetite of his ambition, which is merely the ambi-
tion, of unpulse* In the year 18 Id he was roused — as who with
a German soul was .noi1--^to take a share in the military deeds of
gloiy that achieved his country's Itbertv. There was something
romantic and chivalrous in the ** rising * of that time, with which
his erratic spirit readily sympathized; and, to make it yet more
romantic, we are informed m his biography that he signalized
himself by a Quixotic duel with a Quixotic French colonel of
Hussars^ in which the Quixotic German came ofF victorious*
Since that period, however, the Prince has not taken any active
share.in the public affairs of bis country, either as ^ '' bureamraiisf'
at home, or as a diplomatist abroad* He appears to be destitute
of [that solidity of character, and that manly ambitio|i»^ \yhich fit
aa individual for distinguishing himself in the public service; and
seems to prefer coquetting with Welsh bar^maids, and pirouetting
with dark-eyed rustic madonnas of the Pyrenees, to the rivalry of
Stein and Hardenberg, as the coadjutor of '' the first Reformer
in Europe." The only department of useful activity, in whicji he
has steadily and perseveringly exerted himself, is that of landscape-
gardening — pnd here, to do him justice, his merits ar^ of ^a hig^h
order; here he shows that he can^ when he pleases, forget his
triQiug frivolity and rambling superficiality, and, become a. serious
profi^onal man,, instead of a mer^ gossiping dileUat^e* [ But
the reader will probably agree with us, that th^ laying oul and
adornment of pleasure-grounds, however much it may indicate
the man ot taste and the agricultural martinet, is but a poor foun-
dation on which to build a literary or a political reputation. Be-
sides, this passion for landscape-gardening becomes witJi the

t2

V

266 Pruice Piickler-Mu$ka^ and hu ^ew 3V|Nr.

Prince — as with weak and vain minib moit passions mre apt to
become — an absolute mania; he exhibits aha parades it on all
occasions^ and suggesjts improvements asprofus^y on .^be.^o^Defj
of the Pyrenees as on the garden of the Tuilones'in Ptmsvj

But wherefore do we thus busj ounelfts al atioh eoliaeietftiMs
lengtli in dissecting the character of Prince PU^kti'ltfudkM?
We are engaged in a work of a«perero|^tion» The Prane has
painted himself at full length pdesim in bis writings, and ^espefeiaH;
m a notable passage, a la Walter Scott, with which the (H^eAart
** Penultimate World-walk** is introduced. Our forr readers^ who
lost their hearts to the ** pfepossessirtg'* miidt^dh^^^. the dark
Byronic eyesj and the star-bestudded bosOm pf the pq^rtrait that
introduced the tliird volume of the iTour of th&^ (3eri9iiD Prince
into England, will doubtless be much edified by the. foHowing
*^ genial*' apecinien of self-portrait acer After 46soribiiq;^M con-
siderable length, the fashionable vU'^ wUtmaid^ in vhioh Jaeset
out on his tonri the traveller hi— ntf is oriilwtely depicMl as
followsi— . . /' J i. .

^ The Indivldunl, ^o m in the Box of thiii trtm irifhide; was' ii man
of high stature, to all appeariince a little beyond the itniddle peiiod of
life,* of a filetsder elegfant 6gnte, which; however, displayed more ddkacy
than strength of physical structure, and more of lavadty and mdl^ity
than of compactness and solidity. On closer insp^ttop^ it was easy to
remark that the cerebral system of this individual was much more com-
plete than the .ganglionic, and the Jnteftkoluai part of hbi'Datnre inore
strongly developed than the aoiaDal, . A: phienokigiftt voaid haseibeen
apt to couclude that the. Creator had. gi yen biip WMmtM^^aicfea of hnsd
,tban of heart — more of iouigination than of fedjBg«^<-mcpf of rftia^jiliwi
than of enthusiasm; and that, therefore* the individual was not destined
to enjoy much . happidess in' thra state of existence* Brery ooe^ how-
ever, who had the least knowledge of the worlds conld not fail |o per-
ceive that the stranger, whatever might be the state of his mind, btionged
to that class of society from whom men are accustomed to recefv^ qeietly
the li^ws of good toH, and the etiquettes that regulate the polislidf and
leaned iatercoerses of life. His features^ though ftr from regokit weie
delicate and strikhtg^— of that kind, in a word, whidi onee aeeiiv aienot
easily forgotten. If they had any pecniiar cbami, it Uy in thdr extm-
ordinary activity* The eyes were a jperfeet mirror of every npid rhan^r
that passed in the mind, and, in a tew seconds, they were aeepi t^ viry
from dull and colourless to a brightness that rivalled the stars^ But the
permanent expression of these orbs was rather suflfering than active^-a
strange middle shade betwixt pensive melancholy on the cme band and
sarcastic bitterness on the other, that might well have suited wiUi the
countenance even of a Doctor Faost. To this dramatic personage, bow-
ever, we do not believe that the character of our hero had mneb resem-
■ ■ ■ ■ ■ '' ■ ^.^——^.^—^—.^^-1 ..^ . ■ ^^

* Hie German tohohir will ace (iwa ibe CoavenatkNi8»Letieoa that Pfinw PUckkf*
Muskau was born on the SOth of October, 1785,

frtme Puckler-Muskau and his iuw jTouiv 257

I ■

btance \ ft appears ralber tbat tlie feininiuc elcmeot was predomiuant in
bis ehaihicte'r, whence arose a certain over-refinement ancl vanity, wbicii
\^€rt 'hy no ^ans Inconsistent with a great capacity of endurance and
self-dflHi^.' flfs great happiness lay in the joys of the imagination^ and
im ite trMe^- df life. The wefy, oot'ihe gbal^ was his cn^tMai} and
wiMii» In' the ehifd-I&esiaiplioitf of iris «ont> betnmbM motkjr images
lc^g«iker; BodiJ^layed mAmtmBPf^toMuK^ seapKbiibbk««of his hHty,
he WW in itb^e oidii^nts i<t ifiice w ntot j0fmi» in- kU ow^ 9ifu\%, .a«d
the iD06t apji^l^ Jin the^^M^<lf otb^re.; :

w'lf jperpi^ive ^|iat.b^ has lai4^hiinse)f jmuviully back>.|iiMl thai h^ it now
kxwin|[ witd his\ ^Jorgnet^e* through |Jbe wood,, as if to detect us
in the inidst pf our criticisms. Bis busby black hair — noyir^ alas!
not m rich and luxuriant as ft once was, and which evil tonnes
wffi haVe to be dyed— discovers Itself from beneath a red Afri-
ttn Fez, whM^ long Uue tassel sports pitiyfully io the idnd. Rouud
lasiiecfcicttiiNittjfliGaslitiitere «bflwl Is daralessty thrown; aild his hi^
wbiftt iifTsbead mdi^e comtenance ave itr good keeping vrith ihis half
Turkish accoutrement. A black military frock-coat, ackmicd with silk
embrq^^py of the saipe colanr^ aai^een pa^talpoi^^f wid light boots,
Wihoie lustre vies with polished m^ble^, complete the somewhat osten-
tatious toilette ) and now our fault a^ least it Is not, if our fair readers
have not'ttefone their eyes a distinct representation of the ' world-tourist,'
who hopes that Ke may never wander {rt without being accompanied by
their good wishes."

We do not know bow nmliy sel^omplacent hourfl before the
lodkiiig4>glas9 of vanity the Prince may have been occupied before
he fitted bimaetf for penning this most mtnUte and accurate por-
IrattaHB of himself; but assuredly a more curious, a more per-
f^Vfttfiique, specimen of self-admiring self-portfaiturehds 'Seldom
been .exhibited to an incjulgent and a discerning public. No
rfoi^bc the ladies in Berlui and Vienna, and the author's fair
acquaintjdnces at Almack'a* will be suffused with a gentle titilla-
tioQ of deiightful feelings whea tliey lecx^nize in this minute de-
^ptioD the same " pAvpoaaeMing'^ personage who %ured at
<Mioe so fiercely and eo tewderly in die before-mentioned frotttia-
pieee to^the dttrd vohme of the To«rof a German Prinoe. Our
aalhor, in this paasage, enhibtta himself in a double capattty> cal-
culated to captivate the hearts of all his fair readers, from the
rtiOit senthnehtal and the most poetidal devotees of Byron arid
Keats, to the piost ailly and the most trifling 'Vpret^y nothings"
that serve to furnish and deck out a fashionable paU-rooio; On
ttie one side« the " strange oiiddle ^hade bejtwix^ peQsivc^ melan-*
choly and sarcastic bitterness*^ is a compositi<(ia,9f..the poetic
^iiiad, evidently intended to unite all that is most ethereal and
most misanthropic in the creations of Slielley and Byron; while,
ou the other side, the Prince exhibits himself as an exquisite of

258 Prince Pikkkr^Muskau and his new Tour.

the first wtiteri whose elegant and impo&iBg exterior ivpuld serve
as a fit frontispiece to a neat little duodecimo with gilt edges,
bound in red silk» entitled " Hints on Etiquette/' .or ** The
Whole Art of Dress." One thing is certain, that, after having
penned the above passage. Prince Piickler-Muskau cau no longer
caU ua to account for having given a false representation of his
character. He is barred, perwnati ejccepi^cme, as tlie lawyers say,
from any claim of damages on this scQre.v^ He has not hesitated
to characterise himself, in the above passage, as vain, triBiog and
feaunioe^ ahnostthe ipsisiima verba which we felt ourselves ^called
upon to use; our only surprise is that this gentleman should^ like
Gothe's Philina, so distinctly perceive his own follies, and yet
show not the least desire to get rid of them. He seems to suu
himself with the most contented self-complacency in the mirror
of his own insignificance, and is already so far gone in the fatal
malady of conceit and vanity, as to be beyond the reach even of
Burns's. prayer —

" O that some god the gif^ woiild gie us,
To see ourselves as others see as I'*

So much, perhaps too much, on Prince Piickler-Muskau's
personality. We must now proceed to justify our criticisms by a
few extracts from the work itself, which has given rise to the pre-
sent observations. T|iis work, though ushered into the world
>vitb ,all the quackery and affectation of a pompous and recherche
title, is in reality, like the author's last work, Tuiti Frutti, i| col-
lection of mere scraps and sketches carelessly thrown together
^nd bundled into a book, in a manner that sufficiently proves the
aifthor to have as little respect for the public as he has for him-
self. But, before jpresen ting our readers with any of those ** ele-

,gant extract" which we have selected as the most favourable
specimens of the a^thor's powers, we must be allowed to notice
a small piece of affectation of which he has been guilty in con-
cocting Uie titles, or rather the summaries, of his different chap-

,,jt/ers« Instead of telling us in honest German what we are to
fgxpect from each paragraph, and thus saving us, perhaps* tlie
.trouble of reading it, the summary of his chapters is composed of

. 8})ch profound witticisms and mystical indications as the following :

^' New Bethesda — The Key-hole as an Opera-glass — Descent into
Hades-ri-Heavenly Mansions — Will you sleep in the Bed of the Duchess
. de Senry \ — PUmvianct ! — Lond Brougham — Mistress Austin — The Mo-
dew LichtenbcK — ^Milk-brotber — How to ' rough it' — Blue Stock-
ings ! "

The German scholar who is familiar with the writings of
Richter will have no difficulty in perceiving from what model the

Prince Puckkr-Muskdu and hu new Tour. 259

German Prince bas borrowed this most hieroglyphical inanuer of
superscribing his travelKng adventures, but he will not be the le«B
disposed to hold in derision the puny efforts by which the nose of
a pug-dog attempts to perform tricks that are only competent ta
the playful power of the elephant's trunk. If the titles of J^aR
Paul's chapters be eccentric and fsr-fetched, diey are at the sfime
time pregnant with wit, humour, and satire of the most iMii<|iie
and original kind. But the hieroglyphics of the Prince ^oolftia
no mysteries which repay the trouble of deciphering them. Thej
are clouds without water — empty, riiallow, and uofruitfttl-^as
mkj be seen at a glance by analyzing the elegant spccJaienA
already given.

No. ly The '' New Bethesda/' is merely the affected iatimation
that the Prince visited '^ Carlsbad" in the outset of his '' world-
walk.'' No. 2, The ^* Key-hole as an Opera-glass/' is a more
intelligible announcement that when the Prince was in Carlsbad
an English family happened to lodge in the next room of the
same inn, and the Pruice, in whose character ** the feminine ele-
ment is predominant/' and on whose cranium of course the
bump of curiosity is largely developed, could not restrain him-
self from peeping through the key-hole, and there he beheld—
angels and ministers of grace defend us ! — a beautiful little lap**
dog, and a yet more beautiful young lady, with pale face, black
hair, and a countenance like an Italian madonna — ** who speaks
seven languages, plays the piano like Moscheles, has seen as
much of the world as Lady Morgan, poetizes like Lord Byron,
and 18, with all these accomplishments, only sixteen!" No. 3,
iThe ** Descent ioto Hades,'* means that when the Prince was in
Freiberg he visited the ^silver-mines there; and, perhaps, as his
Excellency is a ** Rationalist/' he means hereby to indicate that
the descent of Ulysses, celebrated in Homeric sons, is to be ex*

Elained after the fashion of that learned divine, Dr. Paul us, in
[etdelberg, as being nothing more important than a visit to a
silver, periiaps a sulphur, mine. No. 4, " Heavenly Mansions,"
is an epttliet applied to the Pyrenean vales by our pious author,
who, as the learned reader may recollect, was educated among the
** Herrnhuters" in Lusatia, and has retained only so much of the
good lessons he received from the Evangelical Brethren as to
quote and make allusions to Scripture on all, even the most insig-
nificant and trifling, occasions. No. 5, ** Will you sleep in the
'Bed of the Duchess de Berry?" means nothing more than that
wheu the Prince was in the inn at Gavarny, he was asked by the
chambermaid to sleep in the bed where the Duchess de Berry
had slept three or four years before — a most important piece of
information certainly to occupy two or three pages of a tour in

2&) Prim lr^it^^>^J«MAlNl'Mril^Ai^^^^ V

ihe 9jt&mm9i No. &,' j^icdtfuet^^ itJ^pliett'Ulifll, wbM>lh«^«ikl
chiMbetiiMid r^fised'akw'Priii^'fimb^MtiiMri^

didsle, MtthMt ull^^ory^ t)iat<liie*PtnMtf'hfid''lb4l g«lMtAWttWt»
he^Mt'ftot acttteneM enougli to ^ikMogfliz^ (b^MJatf'lb^liy'lifo

the <pratteft tif 'hiij •AitliiAl^ialid' ^c^oitiffl^^iA^ mmlsXoKfMr^y

appKiid by thd' Prtrt^t^;Hai¥y««ii^iqii«til^,4erfQ^iy>to

No; to, '^ MilMkM)#«rr is' hnotUeio4ieW'<et^
suiuibfy BpplM'ibM the Mt^ wilhSirhkk flH€'^?1^iii tbAatAtt^ >
a ii*>0t etlffyitig kner froiti hinl9«ltf^Q^WAtMft>'(;8MlI^A»¥f^
Fursien vim^P^^^M*^^^ im ikfn A}uibt*MMs'&ikhSiV*Mm:b'
the cttrioiii^ i^wkr>t#tl( 'ISiwIf in il^ii^i^MA'Mikk^^SmiliBSi^^
Weligavgj p, 1 16i <Thi9 letter ^oiltttiUs amttHftethj^lidtiiMi ^
all the amhMe t^eaihtti^^es/'Mii^Uiesi ana '^ttitv^ bf

which the chantctey ofPUcbterMlVluA^ Tsrim¥Ml«^d^<'arM;'4iiid

leagth faia initiatbiy -d^lf^portraitttre^ <we dsimrld'hU^Mt ttiudi
inclined to preaeiitcHir iiettdeiis witli >rtlib' secoori^ lifirit df ^Ubityund
foUy* No* iJv>'^H<>^' tci^iJrilfA^f,"^ is «t pbltid^^Wrd^ ^

abow the writerVMqUatMancJe with £iigli«li:«latigy'd[nrfife'fatf'^
mation to the fair.reader tb^ the delicate .obiect o(.;.tl!^f^lto'"38nod
wishes" is ohli^d for ^ fe^yn. jH^ya to leave. Iii%, p^iflf^JTi^S^rneg^;/
behind hioi» and .^ravf I hi ,ai4 ommbii9> sdoag. ,wilb{(ii|4irftab of
comiBon lupuU. . It ia no hatiitual trkkof oor dutfaoi* to.iittsifaM
his pageavith Bngbai^Freotib^aml ItMian.coUd^aialinMf o^
there are meny peo|i1e who^ha«e aa^greait a revM-eifOil ifor [Ibis
niiaerBble fopfpery^ aa a rhaii wh^^afiMt read is yvimt'^it^fdr
a pitfited book. N<d. 1«, ^-^ B^ue Stockifigi,'^ dbes Hot dnjtoVAc^,
as the viilgar reader may imagine, a sAtire In the' Pr5rt^4*s ikfisi
triumphant style against learned and ^* ubtrgtbiUfit^'^ tables j'||i is
only tne syipbol 6f one of those neat little coquetferiesi^fi^^ji^tis:
flirtations, in the management of >vhi<^ the firing is J(poiw9.4o
have dMpbqr^.^<^b '^^^^ ^^ called Iqrib tbe.9()mr»tiQii«\(0ttof

road beiim^m Bnnifcir rg(<in4i Sffc^iwfarli hM iWbttea^cUpi<ig^i<tti4y i «
the..ri«iii9 «fi(fii^ old r9«M9(ioi«k)i0l»ffi;lbfioPw(»9ilikei«m«»ll^^

deep bIuis»t<cii»fliHiiiaing< e^«iJteQtb likp thb|«'.0f "l^ ^iKi^M^M^k ''
» 40fpQM)ifKlj; <;b«itM^leristAC of per^ojoa Qf:.)ugk.ipfMMik^'Mfhi^9^(fi

plied) ff .Of pcHy-Qe^thfl^jW^ifrHPiHtb^w^^ huf 0tlifrvfild/iivK^»>iR^.
ween 9tM9Hiii09 .f^fiy <^,/Mf 'Oil fdipeh iNpifiia neimirk ,Ut«ixJ?tfiHii^ r.

oMMs^ff.'fr How* deligUlfttr n Ifaing it «iS(:tOiJkhold iniGb.4in«^leoili
sojitail^aUr ♦heir D|itUral.4»dj «H3<)phaHw:Med( 0|rnplig^ V[ . J I . • . I Tv

nii9(Dg/ybi»t tb9|)|j;fipQ0t(bi9i^pfl«ted tOt>B^ piQff ordl^rj^and tyn t^
^ WMp tb90ilbe^i«mt>f^^ffket<;b«9rof whic|)i ibftyi^Mi (4rh .Saioo /

th^.l»llbMJkF.HiiD90{f l;^!^ UMirefilKpQrlfiiHiplaceii;

thin i^,U'A^lM#--^Dd:.i^ p'tbiok' Uio •iiK)sifiift)fperidi63igp^ian:forll
such medlfgi^/wxmld be tbal.wbkb^J^i^PftUKpiomMMiii* a^lblelli.
for.iiiiliiiodfirQVQm^^iKaT-? Ho|ppel!p^peI>'0r}the/Hie»rl4'*Mlr r( .id//
^Dom Cioileib^dy wbe€e|.aajwi3:bav«i9e«n>(be Qmt)lQ^fldbisiqre»//

bj(,tr9if^^A,,,nr^e|aut^oMi tfieraborl^va^d ^ol viek'y impojrMt, ocMi^t
UGfi]ii|l49h^lli9i]?i:inQf»'giH»«^:U3iofiihi»iaira xi) v/oiP.

*'Tli€"blto«^ora 'grtat'mao «i h^Vi ttki beatt>itifcb;fHiJi.^"l^S *'
faBUi'dr<WbHb^}tf w9tf g!ve fmmoita! faietri6i^l8^^^^t^Ued>{W^''
st<te ikiddAf'lipMi 'Another ta't^ll where'er ^bat'It^Wii^."' TM'brHMt*'*
inUAnte ofi £g^fi hoa^evcr, 4tf dob 4^fii bv«te-MnUble* U^'flM HMMf* >
tb«a.CDQfBmdtbD..lhtets'>tii^bawi:8att9i iMi^l^ltcU^itUe hdf plaa^(of nl
hi^tpry^,, Tbeyvfi J4 . a^ gieKxl. ftxfttfii :Q£.rWall«psWfifi>M|[ilieiihW7Q-ihoiise(<i
( AwW), J|uj, Alt^fv mptfur^ . tb«A :f ucrcHmd ih^ f^prc^enUng ybja^^MaimiM at
^>»WftWlj9V9?-> the jt^fi,g^p«ra|,ilaok«.Kkc.wKawkiwd f^*ft c

In tbis room we also penold WailensleiQ s swo^q^ and tbe pafprn,,,
^iA Wbi^' his was ioprdered. These relics, liowever, are like those qt !

« m6i^ siKited cbahifcler,-.!Jity exTpt double Airi triple. " "\ '^'"I

"* Tbe tfotfoi'wbM «he Atadfdi tragedy, or, av ft « here tidied^ 'bxi^^ '*

262 Prince PUMet^MtUkau mid kU new Tour.

cution,' was enacted, is still thown^ under the metamoiphods of a bmdoir
for the lady burgomistress, of whose bouse it is a part--sadly modemiacd
of ooune, and altogether ruined. The low door through wluch the mur-
derers entered has al<Mie escaped the whitewashing and papering of
modem hands. Who can look on it without eniotion ! Guilty or not
guilty, there can be little doubt that the haughty Friedlander stood in the
way, and obscured the reputation^ of the emperor. This, if it does oot
eKouse^ at least explains the murder. But with what heroism died the
man, who, though worn out both in mind and body, without uttering a
single groan, opened his garment, and, like Csssar^ gave his brea>t
resigned to the stroke of the assassin !

" Of the castle where Illo, Terzky, Neumann, and KinsVf wtsrt snr-
prised, only a few ruins remain, enclosing a coQit OTergrown wHIi rank
grass and nettles. Adjacent to this, how^sver, are twoibuildings, which,
though of a much earlier date, are in a much better statecf pnaerratMia.
The first is a curious double chapel of the age of Charlemagne* adcvnoi
below with masstve granite pillaM, and above with sleudermarUe siiafti,
from Italy. Each pUlar has base and capital of a peculiar desigo.

'' Still more interesting is the second of these remains — a Komsa
tower of immense square Saxon stonesi which, with its iron strength and
black aspect, has, like an immoveable rock, defied the ravages « time.
Tlie French, who were here for a short time during the wars of ibe last
century, built an addition to the tower, and planted it wrtfa cannon.
This plaster- work has afa-eady Allien to the ground 5 while tied'a eingk
stone of the ancient fabric has followed the frail modem in it* rlirffciil

*' Tlie whole seemed to me a picture not without deep meaniog. At
one view the eye beheld the works of the present age already levelled
with the ground; the middle age shaken, but great even amid its ruins ;
and antiquity proudly surviving and overlooking all. Verily our pteseot
age is in many respects an age of patchwork ! And of all onr mighty
doings, what will remain to posterity unless, perhaps — ^books? And yet
books are, in one sense^ mightier and more important monuments than
pyramids and amphitheatres.

** Even my servant was stmck with the gigantic nature of this Roman
masonry. ' It is plain,' said he, * that they meant to make it amnm-
proof;' and strange enough it is, that the Romans, without ever dream-
ing of such a power as that of gunpowder, have nevertheless displayed
such skill in the masonry of fortification as no science of future ana more
instructed ages has been able to surpass.'' — vol. i. p. 69.

After visiting Baireuth and Wunaiedel, the birth-place of Jean
Paul, Semilasso proceeds through Bamberg and Wiurtzbifl|^,
with great expedition to Paris. This nearly concludes the first
volume of his tour, but, except the following somewhat ingeiifous
topological (not phrenological) explanation of Ricfater's genius,
we do not find any thing likely to interest our readers.

Arrived at Wunsiedel, I made a pilgrimage to the room where Jean
Paul was bom. It is biiilt on the mtns of the dtm^oH of an old Ritter-
caslle : from this came his romanticism. Opposite to this buildiog u

Prince PUckler^Muskau and his new Tour. 263

the church : hence he drew his piety. The house, moreover, was a
school^ in whrch his fsther was teacher} hence his vartons knowledge,
and a slight sprinkling of pedantry. As a point de vue, on one side was
a wine-cellar: here we see the origin of his passbn for Bavarian hecr."

Paris^ that Babylon the Great of modern life, has been so

often, so thoroughly, and so recently, discussed by the Heiaes,

and the Bornes, the'Raumers, the Bulwers, the Morgans, and

the Trollupes of the day, that we may be excused from troubling

our readers with an^ of the Prince's very profound observations

oi) that tbeoie. Uis excellency is loo self-satisfied a mortal to

feel unjr 4969 sympathy with the political excitement of that

voleaaic almoaphere» '' It is terrible, it is too terrible," says

BSme in one of his nalediclory letters^ '' to think how m^ny

htiman corpses a kmg reifuires to march over them to his throne i"

-^ttt Prince Puckler^Muskau finds nothing terrible in the ma^-

ter^ and partakes of the hospitalities of Louis Philippe in the

Tuileries with as much ease and with as nmch indifference as

wben he feasted with that king of patriots, Daniel O'Connell, at

Derriiiane. Our tourist was invited to dine with Loub Philippe

aad bis }a4^ ; and as the '' diuner-piece" is not less characteristic

oCih^ vaiHty of the entertained than of the magnificence of tbe

enierlainer, we subjoin it,

'' Shortly f^ter my arrival in Paris, I was introduced at the Tuileries,
which has been lately much beautified by the king. Ihe separation of
«L si^all portion of the great gardens, forming a ring immediately round
the palaice, which was so loudly declaimed agaiust by the public prints,
i$ a,«4^cided improvement. The king's palace is not now subject to the
nide upp^mity of what was not much better than a common highway.

" The ceremony of presentation to the citizen -king is not encumbered
With much pf court-etiquette J but the apartments through which we
were led, and the saloon, where we were graciously received by bis
majesty, are not devoid of a certain royul magnificence. The queen^
with the members of the royal family and some ladies of the court, were
seated at a round table covered with green cloth, and occupied with
female handiwork. A few gentlemen, none in uniform, were grouped
round the table, or dispersed about the room. After the usual introduc-
tion, I entered Into a lively conversation with the queen, a woman of
that c\mm whom it is impossible to know without esteemlag. Madame
Adehide, fihe sister of the king, is £uU of vivacity and amiability ; and
^(youag^priBces and princesses are well educated, natural, and simple^
witliQut being destitute of that dignity which is the prerogative of their
l^igh station.

^ " Afterwards, theliing did me the honour to converse with me, priva'
^'^i for a considerable time, and, in the allusions which he frequently
made to England, displayed a great deal of information with regard to
the peculiarities of that country } he, at the same timei took occaskm to

26ff Priuce Pikkkr^Muskcm dud kU Mm TatctL

dfop i99fr.A few very flMteriDg ootioea of iny SasffUtLTmar, rndk^mm-m
coiulf sceadiQg as to favour me witb severai ttseiol fcials i» fAjcace lo
my^.^Btended trip to Amerkaa. It Is impottlUetto
in « laofe attractive style thao his maiestf , aod tbe
to bis person is visibk among aU thoae who are about fail
. .*' AiBiong these dasarfes yntfcMlar; nortMb GHwaAl i80«9BBcI»: aa
hoQoarably kBowo by bU fgilbfiil adberenae .iO Napiikmit wlioae ae-
quaintance I had the pleaanre to make a few days mer i hmk mmkmi
him ont on the parade of the feast oi - Joly as the moilr eU^aii aed' 1%-
nified officer of the army* ..'*-: '

A few days afterwards^ I was invited iodine with his aMJcsty^ '^Aoboi^
lag to an innate trick of my oatnre, whtoh I fear il js" jii^Miiiihlri itiiKaifia^
I came too kle^ I suspect I was the last* fear theqneea liiawMiiinHiy Ig^if
me her armi that I might squire her into line diiiiog^caam. A^^pmripdi
forty sat ddwn to dinner $ andi as 1 bad read not a little in tlia Carttil
papara of the excessive economy said to preKailin the cidaeoflpiag*
femily» I confess I was more obaenrant than I should ofthtfwaae.ihave
been of the festal arrangements. I founds bpwever^ quite Hkm' eutttra^.
oi all that the newspapers had asserted j and^ escc|it Georoa the Foiiitb'a
courtly domesticity, I have ftmnd none better csfffMsm ^an.ibai itf
Louis Philippe. Behind each ftfasi was itattHned a.(ser<tivt iorapWadii
livery, and beside him a pore^itid sparkling tMat9elfe»'itKhishi%i4^^
German courts, from sheer Want of poliAisg» is ka dall aa-^iin i kit*
oheoery and. wane wei^ very good, and in gieal pnrfa^on,. alidr !tha irt"
tendance ready and nimble, in the best Ea^^isii gwrr^ whick Jiaa jbiv
become miit<; wuLversal is all. the. bast baom in Barisc^ Tkekiiii^rfad.
queen helped some dishes, with their own haoda^-apd amaMrtedrilherM*

tertainment with all the kind cAces of a royal kospitality ' ' ' •

'' After dipner the company retired :to tte-apes terrace wbseb over-
looks the noble garden of the Tuileries. Tkit. terrace^ howkvciv »
doomed J aiid must I fear fell before the vage fer ayinmetiypfeO'ivWck
our modem architects sacrifice every thing. I ventured to iis|Biatniiitn.
with her majesty on this sul^ect, and 6t^;ges|ed totr adiftafale» ji.gtten-
bouse would be in such a sttuatiou, but I am afnid the symiiiatqfHtyatam
will celebrate an ovation over more iDflqential scbsmii^^s.lhan mine. I
had here also the pleasure of making the acquaintance Jof two ladits. of
the qaeen, Mes^iaines de Dolomieu and de Mon^ie> .vt^ho'sarpriaed 'me
with their bilingual poweis, an4 spok^ Qermaiiaa amiably and as tweedy
as French.*' — ^vol. ii. p. 16. i . .

If the reader thinks this twaddle tiresome, wc agree with him*
Perhaps the followiug aesthetical excursus oil the Freuch ro-
mancers m^y prove more interesting.. It appears to us to contain
eihkcU doctrines which might have fyroceedckdr-i the Prioce.will take
this as a compiimont — from the jpiif e pen of the ** modem JLtch-
tenberg." -

** Say what you please of this new French literature, there Is life in it
— it may be a distorted aud a convulsive life, but it is still life, — a life not
foreign or borrowed, but bom of the age, and like onto that of which it

Pmke JmiU^Mmliau'^md M»«^ Jbari S6S

i» tlw/oftpiii9-*^]iftnwt8JiaNk^ tooi 4>y «i migliMhf wlikli is 'sodght'ibi'
makm% wmtCkLvmmk hotk» in wn* Quife lUtoltMbK to me iMPe Ike Bng*
Inli'enfeieinnsof tlwse roniBoet, Tlie petrlicd p^dfitils) who Imve there
aHOBied Ifae oritk«l toepiw, oaanoty by any exeHim, wind tbcshMelveft
even for a moaisnt oot of tlietr own sbdlk We h$nt seen with hbfr
lilciA nudcntaiidii^diejrbaiw set dboat prebio^ Qofte^-oat teeft silly
k their densoie of ike Freoeh. They have but one measure for etery
flmig^-^tlniv cnm oiMHskled moraUly* end movkM religion. Biit Nature
is wide edn^b to eontidn many tmnga that are not within the Thirty-
nine Articles $ and what the poet seizes with the eye Of mtdlecty reflectn
aM iDtfente^iwfais w6ii^^i«t «bsi= neter want its own wotih, be it nectar
or poiadiv aooanling^tor fannati ivaya of viewing tkingv — good or bad.

^^ Biit; admittiog iar « mittote tliat a romance moal, like a sermon,

alwa^ bohst a- miml 'tewdeney^ hcmr, for exMnple, can Janin's ^' Dead

Aat" be considered to have any other tendeoey, and what ground is there

fiHr.44MnMDg it as an ethical mMiilef.9 1$ for ooi/ find jnosi instmc-

tivermonl lessons in it^ and ten times more bonesly than in the collected

t|les jf Matf aaontel, Ukoe genua omng, in which morality is always found

parading upon the tltle<^^e. There ts 8nother;poet, bowerer, about

whom it may be diffioult to form such a charitable judgBMsat, — ^I mean

Etgkne Sue. In the works of this writer^ one seems to dt^tect a secret

tendtoey lo debase virtue; and to show, in the eharaoter of his favourite

keraesi boar a- oertain unfeeUng egoUsm, iMaited with prudence and

lig^tkeartainesa, vaedupes morereal^. bappfa^eiB. and praptfical enjoyment

of liftf Abas .the boasM tncv^y of the sekaols and polpiis* fiut who

is th^ie ibaa aeea not -in the back-gMond of these pictures a deep irony

(N^BuTha^Gerfnans baye kaely -got; « cant of explaining all literary

phenomena by what |faey call tme tiefe Wdtirmne/) that sets forth this

bsspanf^ image «f egotis«i-r*tbe curse of our age — as the idol of the

mnliitide} • wbiley aC the same tim^ it takes care, at proper intervals, to

draw^aide tbe glitlerk^ veili and expose the lifeless skeleton in all its

lioUowneps.- •

^* It may also be tiiat Mr. £«fd»e iSWa is of opinkmi with miUiy others,
thsl^ aft^ ttU, 011^ machbepralMd virlae l»not a Htlle one-sided^ and, if
M, cflmot of course, of itself, lead to tnie happinesa. The virtue of the
aitcieiits prinoipaily consisted in ooungo and enterprise ; but our modem
vbtoe aaeaoa to delight itself in the opposite of this, and to be closely
aUnd to weakness and fear. Shall we be obliged bere^ also, to go in
search of a Juste milieu because our ideal is unattainable) That ideal
consins io^ a perftct equipoise of all the intellectual find physical powers.
This afon^' could make os truly virtuous, truly wise, jand truly happy.
Bat, ttdth kuch a thoroughly sound state of body anid soul, I fear we are
^ ^ pite^ent AAf as far remoired as ever ; and wie must not, therefore,
bs'tao sevtieon such a writer as Eugene Sue, if bebblds our consump-
tive viitae a litde cheapt and strive^ to show us how far we are as yet
from the true goal, xhe contrast, certainly, which he exhibits is aiiy
tbiqg bui leasing— the indifierent egqti^t, with whom every earthly plan
succeeds,! and who even,.after drinking every enjoyment of life to the diegs,
can enjoyi at last, a calm and happy death. But when we kwk a little

966 Prime Piickier-Muskau nnd hU nem Xoir.

more nucQwly into Ait nmterly portnitnrei we fteH &oi thai the
author give^ to his creature noduug higher than the existeaee aod the hap*
piueas of a mere animal, and makee it to appear that even the aigh of
a soul eodovred with nohle aspirations is pigpferahle to the ivde, unli-
mited eDJoyment of a creatuT«iao low in the scale of existeooe. On the
same principle, every one who has a soul would prefer a cbaslmmeBt
fiom God to a reward from the devil. But with all ibi^ it oiaiy very
well be, that Eugene Sue is one of those whose very goniue oMikes
them melancholy, and to whom a sad voice seems to come frqp the
desert, saying, tcrtium non datwr — and this hopeless thought perhaps it
is that lies at the bottom of so many French ronances."— "^m. i. yw 1S8.

Many of our readers, who know not even the name of Pri"^^
Piickler-Muskau, will peruse with pleasure the following notice
of the veteran of ^cre| Sir Sydney Smith.

** At times I pass a few hours With Sir Sydney Smithi i«ho, in dt*
fiance of the many years and many laurek that weigh him down, still
continues pregnant of new projects and original Ideas. Thus, for in-
stance,— be believes that the land may be navigated with sails as well
as the sea, that the power of cannon maybe altogether weakened by s
contrivance for banging up hides before fortifications', and is of opinioti
that Africa was originally divided by a belt of the sea into two halves,
and that the Phoenicians or Egyptians, who are said to have circOiftDavf-
gated it, passed through this belt, and not N>uud by the Cape bf Good
Hope ; and a thousand other strange opinions wllieh be defstida with
great ingenuity and with great enthusiasm, and whieh perhaps hn will
one day make better known by meads of the press. Hb dirKng pna^
ject, however, is the restoration of the Maltese order, — not o». the an-
cient chivalrous, but on an industrial, basis. A French marquis read oat
the whole plan to me one morning at breakfast j and, so far as I caa
trust my memory, it is as follows. The bigotry and exclusiveness of
the ancient order are to be changed into the universal liberality of mo-
dem times,— all religions are to enjoy equal civil rights, and the order,
by special privilege on the part of Europe, is to havfiHie eole right of
purchasing slaves for the purpose of civjfjzing them, which indeed is to
be one of the chief ends of the association. Trade and cotsmeroe
come next in importance. The eivilized negroes* as soon as confidence
can be placed in them, are to be sent out as missionaries (of industry, not
of religk>n) to reclaim their brethren and call them all into the indus-
trial fold. A capital of sixty millions is calctilated as necessary for com-
mencing this undertaking. As soon as the sum is subscribed the so-
ciety will begin its operations ; the grand-master and dignitaries are
already named. In the mean time, however, this apparently so simple
article of sixty millions seems to be the rock on which the whole pro-
ject will split. Unless Herr von Rothschild interferes, it is difficolt to
see whence the said millions are to come. But, be this as it may* the
idea is great, and worthy of the man ; and now that tlie French have
taken possession of Algiers, there will be no great difficulty in finding
Maltese knights who will feel i no scruple in complying with the condi-

Pftme PUckhr Mu$kau and his nem T^r. 267

tion at to tii6 tdsTRlioii of rfl f eK giont. Tbe nraltiCnde of obienratlom
ibftt 8ir Sfdneyhfts made during bis long life render bis conversation as
instmeUve as it is entertaining. He lately enligbtened roe at great
length on tbe subject of the currents in tbe Mediterranean Sea, which
be assored me were' now (and not a little by his own exertions) so com-
pletely iHi<lerstood> that one might send letters in a bottle from one port
to another as safely as by post, and calcnlate the time of their arriTal
with as gireat certainty as if they had travelled in a steam-boat." — vol.
ii. p. 93.

From Paris the Prince proceeded by Bordeaux to Tarbes, and
from this latter place made several romantic rambles through the
Hautes Pyr^n^es. Perched upon those grotesque snow-clad peaks,
where the astronomer Plantage, fixing his last look on the laugh-
ing vale beneath, died, with the exclamation in his mouth,
** Grand Dieu, que cela est beau /**— h is not surprising that such
an excitable person as the Prince should have feh hhnself already
in the hedvenly mansions which are promised to the blessed ; but
the manner in which he expresses his delight is in that exaltado
opium st^le which may be admired in Germany, but would be
opt to be condemned as the ne plus ultra of bad taste in Eugland*
Besides, the gastronomic imagery of truffles and pasties wjtli
which the description is wound up-^Jinis coronat opus — will be
disapproved of by many who are willing to take the rest of the
passage as the quintessence of descriptive sublimity. We trans-
late the following letter to the writer's sister, as a specimen of the
179 pages (German pages) of descriptive rhapsody with which
the greater part of the third volume is filled : —

'' Argelesy in the Pyrenees, 3d Nov. 1834.
*' Now, my dear Lucy, have l at length found the land where I will
live and die ! Here may we — when I have for a few years longer been
a wanderef in the wide world — ^here may we build our cottage — in thb
laitd that unites all the convenience of a champaign with the pictu-
resqacbeauty of a mountainous district, whose inhabitants are Germans
in their honesty and good nature, and Italians in their vivacity, and vrho
posset a patriarchd simplicity that belong to neither ; a land, whose
climate Is so fine that vineyards and maize-fields flourish in the greatest
loxttriaoce, though enclosed by snowy walls thousands of feet high, where
SQiray meadows shimmer green through the dark groupes of trees, Kke
the harness of a gold beetle, and where to-day, on the 3d of November,
(in Germany, the 'beginning of raw winter,) I can sit under the shade of
a majestic chestnut-tree, and breakfast in the open air, while over the
old garden-wall a fig-tree spreads its fmitful branches, and blushing
mses wind themselves fkround its stem — a land full of historical recoUec-
tbns and monuments of the olden time, where, far removed from the
commotion of the capital, the most undisturbed peace reigns, and no
spirii of political strife has as yet corrupted the b^ enjoyments of so-

«G8 PfpwJHMh^MMMimitim Tmn'^

ciety-^vfliefeia, beaiikf i\iih fM n^y ii»th ^kf^^tinm-M^kmp •». m

G«nniuQy,«nd with a.i^veAue.of ten thousand IruwiwK'Pe iiiii^ fpori ab
^uj{»Ee and niatiUBija. a respectable OHmtFy e9taUisbi||feiiii( Hfbpre all
tbe refaetneiits of li^xufsj imm aU tba delioacm.pf thiii«W^.acf.ai.i»ii*
mmidj where Spaiiit P^vcQce, ^nd the oiceaAi ^mck.fm^tk^.h^BA-^
t^e iMid ot Heiurjr the four An-Hbhe laod of nkWf^n^ki^imo^ffriifinifia
at/d Bordtaux mmitt of iaipcM imd oftr^, fiS t€xmn€0 <(# N^r^f mt^fiia
do TouUmn* 0 to this land vtoM I we(fid wiU thi^m^M^ov^f* ■

Hoppel-'poppel or the heart t^-MigrionTs sotig fiiid tiki€s J^t
Toulouse ! This is certainty ft strange mixture^ and yet \ct
have v\6 donbt that this rhapsody was intended, to be the 'most
sublime passage in the ^' Penultimate XVorld-watl^;^'iahd'(bat as
such msxiy a Genuiui Lucy aod Julia will ^catatic^flyjicficeive it.
In our bumble iudgipenti it c^^n be Jikejyied tp nQ^bii^M fidjr
as to a dish of wiusked ccewani or a pbiU of «ai^d wat0r^<bkMwtt
up into bubbles by a child. .

The title of tbe ^sent work» '< Penultimtte WorUUTovr." in*
dicates that tbe altiiuate tour is yet to come. The priiieoly ea*
thor^ indeed^ (after having served Lord BroughaM imh the Haf'
vey saaee and mostattf, as above at letigtfa narrated^) |>roc<Jeded
Straightway to Africa, ^vhere (unless he has made a second de«
scent into Hades^tiot figuratively) we believe he is at this present
moment.* From thence he travels onward> taking of course his
^' elegant curricle" along with him, to America; 4md hei^j.in the
new worlds Mfill be concocted thai '' Hltima^^ tour of Semimsa"
for which the German publishers and public are ntpK^oift «o im*
patieutly waiting. Of this ihrealeaed **hBmTUR VMigamg^* we
devoutly say with Lord Byfx>o,

** Tours of such princes^ may tbey be the tasi r
for^ unless the forthcoming volumes be more edifying tJiaa tbe
present, we shall think ourselves justified in passing them ovet
wilhout any further notice* lu tbe oaeanlime, that the Priqce may
bave Bo reason to complaiii of our having given to tbe Snglish
public garbled extracts from his penuhimate tour, watnuncrifae
bis expedition to tbe celebrated amphitheatre of Gavamy at full
lengthy in whteh the difafcertiing reader will have occasion to re-
mark the truth of art observation already made by us in reference
to a certain genus of travetling sketches now fashionable in Ger-
many— that the traveller is generally the most important figure in

the sketch.

• *

'< Gfffamy, 19th Nov« 1884.
'' With snn'«riae'--Sbat is to say* in this loaalily at ten o'eloek-^

* The hi9f account of ttie author that we have seen left him at Conslaiitlnople.—

EpiTOR.

Mi|Mtib«lMfe of >G)A¥M-tiy'. The rodd is^ mo^t pi«ttlre^Qe. For tbe fim
lAir hottr^ct tid^ oMtitertitpl^dlj^ ^AiMigihe xxmi^ t^ tbe Gtive, whose
WHterft'^lN^erii^^rfbii'bdth 'sides' by'o^rhiHi^i^^it>ck^; ^wf 'rash fe&r-
itiny'db#W M! ov 9dD ftteC bed««itl^ t&e ptitb'of ib^tr^Vell^. 7he i<r«y
IS ^9filr^B]dt<'it^^t^;'ttAd'y(it- b' ttdtfnrHdtfd Wftb kiff ibrt of ftpbe or
pArtt|)lftt;' '^W^hdtt g66e¥aUyiMsW a living |f6rtf«^ii^tO'*da^^ hotfv
ever, l' ^^«rn^ft' Wtb bfiees^ tf# yl»i» '€()>mite an^ifi^^

Ciprp^jWe|.p)cawfttjn,g^hwifig al«9£ ^be >!ii*,o| fch^.p^eeipiof tifMn

py * W*if f fi^^lt^W. fRP^^K. ^P*^. W'^.^ ,«P»*-^bitF Gave, /panning

Deneatb nie. f Haoit ^aKe3 awi

bexisiQ

bM^of^M^GtAVe^. ^n'tb^ oecaaAon Ibii I^o^ of (^vtonjr, Wbb fi^^ien^d
wMihvk:Mf''ipfM^^tjm% ia bMiiHilbl txatti{il&' of 4r<i^ Cbifisiiati feeing.
He let bimselt down, at the great risk of hU life; by mean^iof Mpee, attd
^d^4l»liitfMu<ibi04niTdkr Mil bj:«)am^ soffideftitlyftebMble to
rfMei^.ih^(^Q90Utioqi^,Qf^feligioQ.froin stb^ fNoni fiither» and die DDini»>
f9r<tfifl:H#«|nfr»'i' :' v; !>' 1 V.r--.^ : • ■ , •• ^ . . ..■• . ..»

. f*^^ bupip of c^ntiop, ixJt^,i^luAiI>«n hrgely endowed, Jbapinly
prevQDts nre from ru^hin^ s'^ch. fi;sk$; jGor^ though | often. veplvxeL^ I
Derer ventujre 'witboui cbn9id^ratiop, 'fix the same tlme^ this bump^
howeve^ usele^ it ma^ be,' is 't6 us 'aoxioas mortals ^he mo^er of
bkifay s6rroW^; ' ' Cotsed cautiotir said the Corsair IVelawny, ^* to
wUifbor^ ttH'tboi^; oidliis^ td itrk^ef'jby into anxiety ! But such is
oBrkiit^BVe^tibiit^lA tbH'ltorM' basim element of etil to counter^
bnlaaecAb'goo^/^ •■• "'.5' '| '."' • ' < ».,....»

<''^filer m'Wldeed cbtmdrig j^sMfSscta of all sdAs 4Sf mokv siMngtilv
thrown together, clad with the most hnondlidt . ^etfeHion^i variegated
here and thei^ wit)i sofne not inconsiderable waterfalls, and in one sita-
stion renderea yet inore interesting by a very clear and distinct echo,
tbbrMh'Jft)rAit^t^es'begHtf'to diminish, and' ifae rocks remain, where any
Aril is hft) tovaml Qniy i^h #bo4odetidf6ti^^nd bdx^Woidd. As'if^ ddw
vinae faigWt, efi)il>tlla^atdrdy Alplo4* stirubudlMppeak*; iand'faei^e^ft
aspe^iWharb. sooeowypoperiag gjaab M watajtes 'evidently overturaetf
a haga'W^aiitaiiiheolossua, aaii wfitab* k{«lhsiiAf«titlyidiklgnated the)
Cik|o»:^l^Qund.4b^ poat..sUUfipg,sjniilm|yt te >oblraeleis bistwrai the
Pyrei^^' ^n^ jbhe grotasquei mpant^ins.pf.NorMi .Wa]^:tditbougb ih«
former surpass theiattfr in gvandctur^ at^^ost in tb^/iafpe.degiee tbat St,
Peter's at Ilome does the church of St. P9ms in Londopj of which it is
the ard^etype. ,......,

' ''After etiiefgi^grfrom'^ the Ghaos/ 'we'bebord'tbe marks of four
b(wlii of Roland's horse impressed on four different rocks, for ttiis ts the
famoatsp^.^hiire'the wiaiged'Steed alighted, when it made its gigantic
Ifap hom tba vailsy of AoatBesvallea/in S^aia M# Frimfe, while Ro-
land, in a fit of blind rage, cleft the intervening wall of rock (300 feel
high) in twain, wh'^h to this day bears the memorable paioe of ia
Brkhe de Roland,

VOL. XVII. MO. XXXIII. U

870 Prince FOcMer-Muakau W9d hU new Ttmr.

** Ih nieh a ooanlry as this^ one would be apt to fogei the dHBaed
worU allogether, were we not remifided of its existence in tbe moet dii^
agneeable manner by the line of douajners^ who are posted in this qiitr-
ter. Such men in such a phice are like devils in paradise, and to the
devil I heartily wished them. Much more in keeping with the sceoe
was a band of Spanish smugglers^ as I supposed, most romantically ba-
bited, whom I soon afterwards encountered. These were men of atb«
letic appearance, and as haughty in their bearing as courteou in their
address. I knew iit>m experience that a Spaniard will thank yoa for
nothing so heartily as a cigar; and accordingly I offered one of myatose
to him who appeared to be the leader of tfaie cavalcade. He aeemed
ameh pleased with the present and thanked me, but like a king*

** Without waiting at the inn of Gavarny, and preparing myaelf for
my task by a good breakfast^ I hastened impatiently to the amphithea-
tre, which is about two or three miles further on. But in this sight I was
much disappointed. The descriptions of it are all highly exaggerated ;
and, notwitostanding my love for the Pyrenees, I must confess thst
Switxerlandpossesses many scenes of the same class, but infinitely more
aoblfme. The waterMI, also, is much inferior to those in Switzerland,
and, though it could boast ten times as much water as it has, woold still
femain so. A French writer has happily characterized the caeoade of
Oavamy by adling it a ' woven wind,' while the worthy Qaacon who ii
the anthmr o£my printed ' guided without the least diBGriminatkn com^
^aros it at once with Nii^;ara— Tom Thumb with Goliath !

'' Nevertheless, it were no very difficult affair to add by the labours of
art to the natural beanty of this imposing spot, and render it in some
degree more worthy of the extravagant laudings with which travellers
have eulogized it. Nothing more is necessary than to collect together
the many petty waterfalls and streamlets that run down into the Gave,
and lead them into the cauldrons that are enclosed by the amphitheatre,
thus changing them into lakes, as they were originally. An expendi-
ture of a few thousand francs would be sufficient to dam up the stream
at the place where it has broken through, and effect the projected me-
taasarphosis of the landscape. A new road might also be made on the
right side, which would afford a much more favourable view of the
whole ; and the snow-crowned * pics^ doubling their heights in tbe clear
mountain water, would then actually exhibit that magical effect which it
at present ascribed to them only by tbe generosity of pedantic travellers.

*' I hope it may not be considered presumptuous in roe to hold forth
schemes to the attention of the prefect of this department, who, if I am
not misinformed, is no less a person than the celebrated author of the
Campaign in Russia, Count Segur ; and, should he succeed in carrying
it into effect, and adding to the scenery of the Pyrenees that in which
it ia most defective, a good lake, he wUl thus have executed a second
woik— or if he is not the famous Segur— a first work, that will secure
him the gratitude of universal Europe. I should even feel inclined, did
it not appear forward and impertinent, to mention the scheme to tbe
noble King of the French personally, to whom nothing is unimportant
that contributes to the adornment and improvement of his country." —
vol. iii. p. 62.

Prince Pueiler^Mu^fau and his new Tour. 271

One obserration we feel ourselves called upon to make before
^e dismiss Prince Piickler-Mnskau on the present oecatioil.
Most of our readers are doubtless aware that the Tour of a G(^-
man Prince was ushered into this country under the special pa-
tronage and protection of Giithe. We owe it therefore to
them, and to diat reverence which we have always professed for
the name of Gbthe, to reconcile, as far as we are able, the coi^
tradiction between our present severe judgment of Semilamfs
WtUgang and the laudatory criticisms of the Briefe etiies Fer-
eiati^nen that pnxreeded from the pen of the moet liberal mmI
comprehensive critic in Europe. The matter is easily ezplainedL
The very ouldness and kindhness of Obthe's oriticismi which is
its greatest beauty, led him astray at times from that just mediutt
between unprovoked severity and unmerited eulogy, in which the
true tone of criticism lies. It was a weakness of Gbdie*s mind,
both as a critic and as a moralist^ that he could not be severe^
The consequence was, that such careless^ frolicsome^ butterfly ex-
istences, as our German Prince, often received from him a plen-
tifiil meed of praiae, which, to more energetic^ but less amiable
natutety was denied. Besides this general bias, we may remark
several special drcumstances that may have operated nat a lillle
to tune down Gbthe's sonl into a momentary consonance wMi
tbat of the Prince. The Prince (though always as a coxcomb) is
a lover of nature, and lavish in descriptive writing-— eo also was
Gothe. The Prince mixes up with his love of nature a light,
playful, we had almost said a coquettish, sort of religion ^-H>f
which cast Gbthe's religion also was. The Prince, moreover, so
far as manners and polish are concerned, is an aristocrat; and
the " Vomehmthun** of Gbthe has always been the object of
Heine's and MenseFs bitterest satire. Add to all this that Giithe
only lived to see the first flashing debut of Puckler*Musk«i;
whereas, we have seen him progressing, like the crab, bad^warda,
durin^^ a period of five years, and there will be little left to e]^•
plain m the apparently superficial criticism which the octogen»>
nan sage of Weimar passed upon our most frivolous and awiit
coxcombical tourist.

V 2

»' ,«.«

*» •• IJ I' »!*] I' • • ,.i • n|, r '/ t 'I ^ I'"* ♦'! / I 'l.iJ' IdL'* *♦ • f «'M^'» tl ♦fill ■ ' ■

q Martio.i.'^ tom.y .Paiqsk ift^W;*.. ,... ,,. ■,. ... -•.••/: .1 ■.

AMi)i^6'tli« yearly prised foamtod by ttie taii^iFcdeAt^C^nMiVile
Mbmyon h one, to b^Mnp^opviaMdv^ ibMiiodk wUdk ttiaiay
t^ti'ds td j>rbmot« thfe* m«ralt^ and impft>¥«iiititit df'Hiittkitd.
The'Tt-etith' Academy, wbd a^aM tbtae* fyriats^ ^ha^ 'bei^toirMt
si^al tboti/satid fVaiics dfi'fbeivbrbiibw tefore UH aiid'W^Miye
Mefn tbid/tbat' it' )itfs'>;ti^ated ttiudi faiMoambli»'^etila«i«d>itf G^
t^iiif iM'BidY^fMt: iW«r(thei«efor^dpetied it wMlr>W iwbnqg^tMi^
pbi^^ssibn^'h^ bebitf'Of 'tb^lnerittj and^ w^ btve>itI<»Mli^t^#i* a
fl^Kltrg^'t1^t'i^"i|r'My^ nrfrd^biHgriltis }ifee:aii>oasi*:^ khe pMsiM
im^re'HatiJ^ fV6M:% liiiferatarti'; aAd.atnidlkMtiMa tfo'^ctoaMil
tfraina^/t/}ahit))iatttly«x^M)i80d infiddity^ ^k* ifaHati^al JdtakiiM'itf
g^et^, Mfe 'haiif ^UrMi'lb^ iHmbflft saittfiictmaf^ a^prdd«Mfk^i»liMeb
t^itts VMk ^itotaKty afid #«ri Ketigiob, and m* coii|gi^iitUkte
^hiftce^tM fb^btivi^'biM a(]»pf««iated'>byifii^M' a ^lidVtton "o^^lM-
9dU&biteaW: Fl-bb the ti«te/ W exf^atad «'ti«aMiM^tbtt^'ttdti^
i^eibtf/\iMdk ^otlld Mterinti^'Ae dMdifo <)f ^d^idrng^^itid'ai^
compUsfament ; but it iakek MgbM 'rank and taadi^ > waMan > tiai
aiafy bow and • whara > ta 1 look for ^har f^jnwatita of tMr wnds,
4iuttihoaf8 tberarlhe'importattoa of ibeir oondacl^ aa mollieia^ over
tbe <%ithm) GMkrdctar'of :a itetioo«: We baveilifanis^amialafedd tha
iHtiftiiltionft ol tba aucbor fftom im 01^0 daddrtitibfijf '^'^Tbosa
y/h6 basttly'<^r"tdiittatiCiv«ly turn over tbaae pages atfay a^ttfifia the
of a wish to revive' the fenmes savantes, but let thew«rete as-

MOiWA to ,f uUU tb^r daaUoy by n^indertakio^ tbat-^t^i^ii^lic^dpca-

•itian rwbkb atamps ijtself iiyioo tha aouU.; Xa devalop 4ba (lomht^f

Hvtinieily ihattthby inay<b«cQaie>aoikiaifaifl9 mon^^ibaiitb^^k^ljbiiig

'jof oin'rtidepbsanM8';>itode«akipotke)i8ettkof'4w6niefl tlMt ikay

)taa^ ibdeome^ tiMw^' ceitettarbaiiigq of'wbich'^a^i^draaiii' fai^imr

yoilfh ;' tb dev^hip tbe ib^d of women tbat- tbef maf '^airakan

biiri;— thfe foi^i3 tb^ suMeict apd the pbject of Itt^ boofc.^ '

"In f^ct, if A^e consider tHe subteiit properly, we Aafl find Jt

.^oegrca^. source,, of the misery brbappiness of an civni2ed na-

_4jp|^^ fftr |in ?»^bat Cjiristla^i .fpuutry. can we deny tbe .indijieQce

w)^l«bf4 mo)bfei;,^x4ends Qvffr tfie wMe life of ber, cmi^J'en.^ Tbe

: j^fi^lMwt and the hardiaat .wanderer, wbtle be ia tossed . ojier tbe

otfaan^or wbile beacoi'cbea hU feat upon the deaert aanda^ recurs

in biai loneliaass and suffartng to tbe tares which fnatemal aflhc-

ilatf'aNd' (ym^ hoM inibnoy; tb«/reckleb^ winiier^ eteik in hts

Martin on the Form^tic^'ef tie Minds of Worsen. 273

hardened career, occaplooally hears the whisperinj^ of those holy
precepts* in^tHted by i vivtuoust^otfeii^r.'titiH^ Ait4b^g(i^tfaey< hn^ii/k
Ae mn^ai of guiR be'negl^^Y^d, thet^|afr<^'nidn;f iMtrtnc^s^of
their haying so stung the conscience, thM they hlive Jed.l^a Mep
and Jbalipgrclieptaoyce^the £nnttgi/^ild x>f..^itbffM9ex^.wiU ttf^p^
if, . a mother y^t <e](i&l% tuni lo» h^fr iqr>thal«cpnsoiatioa which thp
]^m of society. d^ny^ aofi in the lafitingipur^ly of ,a.mc(th^*8 l^v.^
UriUfiod^th^ nay tobfaveo. How) jqyfjully.do^^. a bja^d^v^prlgfig
chJMloybMi^ for the coipfort pf, afi^v^vty-Qtri^k^n, inothiefi ^ow
aUT9 ka.afmXo helr.bpnQlircaPd.higbT^t9ndi«g iq ttie^ world! ifp4>
sb9|il4itb9S moA^ I^:d09$u9ted byJb#ii^l4^maHb49ie9«i^i.(I^4^^
At#pd.f<vlb»iasi ber^ptolwtiMril I«.«bttrt,H>hq,u¥>CTI dpe^lyiiW/Wfirf
pn tb^ #abjfict,.tbq.. motif ^utirelji.iirft.Wa cfflftMinc#d,,d^t;iV?Hi^
Sni^QCe 49 so lasiidg, or oS audb wide ieiitQgtb ^ W^\ Pip^^
99tea9e}y do^ we fed the neossilo^ lof S4Vdi^!%, fbiftif^Pffi4^a%9.^o?/
^9d' per/e^UfQ ^b^t b««0g from whomi it e^qanaHf » . ^'. The fuUif e
^b^r^Qto of a.^Bhild/' said NappUoB^ "is. alw^f, Ae >iK>r)t jpf...its
W(^tber;*' aod^Q 4^gbt<^d, jn.r^pUectiPig^tliat. ^p-ibij? JB^cefl^jdJ^
b0,9w/9 mucb.of the gr^^aU^ ^,a mMidf *hLcb,pps8ibb|,grftftRfi4
ati.tQQ miid»ybilt iyhi4b«ftenMfrda.iP^abl(|d hjw^.tp J^^jf^fjr.pj^
mivMi9»andie»le with fi^ctitHde 9i«d d«piftr.i,,,| ^,n . j« I- jn , .

^•>Hi8t6ryi" kaysM. AlAi^-M^nib; " ju^fies thW wdrdt> andj irftb-
tMM'dwaifehig on stidi i«markaUeniafCa(acfes«i'Cba#ksfiXi,WileoiV
IV.,'theri«etdie mi(pilof CatUriae^aiid^tbe otbei) ttf ^Mnne 4- Atbrel,
vrasf^ot LoaitJdllt^wbahinQgiialefuIiavtd diitpRteii^ lij^e JtU n\9^|Br^
4ways,- r^beUipas and alwaji spbrniw^ ? J)o,yf9 w*,iin Jtipuw ^V;*
rccqgnlzf Abe pa4iioo«i of a, SpaQi9b w^omaib tb9se ^ei^aurd^ y^. rbm^iiUic
gf^lanjtfie?, tbo^e/bigoted fo^s* that .^eepotic pride* ,iyhiQn recwir^pro-
stratioR before the throne as well as beror^ the altar ? '^u^ coniinties
ihe auibot*, ^ the two great poets of our age, perhaps, ofrpr'the ibost
StortBng examples of this savine or fatal niffirehce. ' Tq the onei ati titt-
kftid fatehitd ^eti a sei^ffitig. ddfbih'itg aitlAter, ^lirb&k jMid, eamiefoas,
anoii'YiHrroii^ tUTAd, expanda! «ily to cattily or latf^^'a i»tberirbo
Ms^iaribgljr iti#etiled< the utIbaMi infirmity xii hev ' ohfldv ittMbcdyjffilM,
wad auKftifiedi him,' catcsMd slid BatSeibd <liiQi» and-tlieadeipisffl and
•cnrscri ^im^ . These barMibg passiods jof ^iktw^mMk w»iyiid«4plyL<W-
ffpr^ on tb^ heart of .^e^yv^Qg man v llwit^d,an4,p)fi5lp,|^PflBr^. #-

was Wilder without ^eakciesk/ pious wilhoui sewntV, one of tMdscJ'VkVfe
w^^^d whd'are bom tbfa0 modetd t6 ihe\t^Ai im^i^i\f^ ah^^Mi-

'^iSt>Miih'M ^sf\ikd>*mAya\ih ^ttiytrr%hi«li i^b«ilhil0Ut hiW;^p»ke
waonlj^ttf hii'intdleoij btttj<teihk<ibg<iiiMl!^i1i(» 'ioali ^diam tdaniratarn
sabiiiiKfSOlmdBf.Bffaarueay wbittb |iiaontkirtd;(tberakaBi.JM«ThttBi snr-
0#ande4 •69m.UivaradUeiJqpfxaflhples/of:;{bQ molt taiacbiilg>iet|rj,tbe

£74 Martin on the Formation of the Minds of Women^

gncioas tfifant walked in the ways of God» imder the whiga of M»
niotlier ; his genias it like tlie inceDse which sheds its perfome o?er tbe
earth, but wfaioh only bunu for heaven.^'

In directing the attention of our readers to M. Aim6^Mactin'A
work, we tnust however premise^ that it is exclusively written for
tbe French nation, and, consequently, the handling of die subject
is totally different from that which we should employ; no En-
lisbman would write so argumentative a book for his own people,
and (we mean not to be presumptuous) no Englishman would
make such appeals to his countrywomen on the score of con-
duct or religion. We have faults and sins enough to answer for,
it is true, and which ought to prevent us from setting ourselves
above our neighbours; we dare not lend ourselves to die conceit
of fanatical reasoners, who, in the midst of their groans and mock
humility, yet call this a nation peculiarly under the care of tbe
Almighty, and the only spot on earth where true religion is
taught and cherished ; but we hope that many of the suggestions
of our author would be superfluous, and we cannot think that the
efforts which Rouseau and Dessessarts made to restore Preach
wiYes and mothers to their duty were ever required in this country.
M. Aim^-Martin himself says:

" What iodifierence on the part of women towards important affairs j
what ardour for frivolities! their minds, unceasingly agitated by tbe
fashion of tbe day, turn with passion to tbe nothings of tbe moment ,
for the sake of these do they feign a character different from their own,
do they torture themselves, suffer heat, cold and hunger, destroy their
health, and risk their lives. Alas ! we give to our daughters tbe man-
ners of courtezans, to our wives the instruction of a child, and then ask
for glory and happiuess from Heaven. What is the result ? The fiivolity
of one sex necessarily influences the habits of the other : women beoMoe
trifling to please us, and we must become frivolous to find favour vritb
them.^'

We suspect that this is too hard upon French^-women, but,
saving some unfortunate exceptions, we challenge the whole
world to pass such a censure on the daughters of Great Britain^
and to found their opinion on truth. But there is yet ample
room for improvement in the education of our females, and we
feel certain, that they will reap much profit from M. Aim6-Mar-
tin's suggestions, though they are chiefly addressed to another
nation, and that mostly a nation of Catholics. Something mnst
be asked, in the way of indulgence too, for the heaviness, we had
almost said prosiness, of several portions of these volumes, but to
those who like ourselves will wade through the dulness, and
seriously consider the excellent, wise, and liberal principles in-

Mftctio on the FoTf nation of the Minds of Wonm. %7&

Qiilcated in tbom, we promise an ampk reward* To ipdui^e our
MieoUng leaders to undertake the tafik, we abaU now proelised t0
nuake an analyais of the book» and give several quo(ation8» chiefly
in English, but selecting a few of the most eloquent passages in
the original words.

. The first chapters are devoted to a brief examination of th^
two great writers, Des Cartes and Rousseau, wlio shed an in-
fluence over the woiuen of France; the errors of their systems ar^
pointed ouk and the good they effected is duly acknowledged.
The power of women and the effects produced by marri9ge are
QMt treated of, and the succeeding chapter b^gin^ as follows '•-▼

'* Whatever may be the customs and laws of a country, the woipen
ot- it decide the morals. Free or subjugated, they reign, because tbsy
hold possession of our passions* But this influence is more or less sa-
lutary according to the degree of esteem which is granted to them.
Whether they are our idols or companions, courtezans, slaves or beasts
of burden, the reaction is complete, and they make us such as they are
themselves. It seems as if nature connected our intelligence with their
dignity, as we connect our happiness with their virtue. This, therefore,
h a law of eternal justice — man cannot degrade women without fafm*-
self Mling into degradatkynj he cannot raise them without bacemiBg
better. Let us cast our eyes over the globe, and obsei^e these two
great divisions of the human race, the East and the West. One half of
the ancient world remains without progress, without thought, and under
the load of a barbarous civilization; women there are slaves. The
other half advances towards freedom and light 3 the women there are
loved and honoured.''

Im aumming up the histpry of female influence, M. Aimir
Martin aey^^— *

** That which has been done to lower women, and that which they
have done towards our elvilizatfon, offers, perhaps, the most moral and
dramatic part of our history. There was a time when their beauty alone
wrestled against barbarism. Shut up in castles, like prisoners, they
there civilized the warriors who despised their weakness, but who
adored their charms. Accused of ignorance, and deprived of instruc-
tion, disgraced by prejudice, and deified by love — feeble, timid — seeing
around them nothing but soldiers and the sword, they adopted the
passions of their tyrants ; but in adopting they ameliorated them. Thqr
directed combatants towards the defence of the helpless. Chivalry
became a protecting power ; it repaired injuries, and paved the way for
laws } and, at last, after having fought in order to conquer kingdoms, it
waa softened into ^ghting for the beauty Of women, and civilization began
by gaUeo^. A great revolution was acfompliihed in Fi»0M9e> on this day
whan a noble knight dnew off bis men, in cons^ueuce of hearhig tba^ Oit
•castle of which be was just about to commence the siege, bad ^m^(H9fi
the asylum of the wife of his CDeoy, and that this wife was abo^t to
hcfiome a mother. At a later period^ some glimpses of scjence began

276 MwMst M ibi F^n^mation of ike Minds of Womeii

to pierce through the shades vtfaidi'roverad the vroiW ^ all ^yes
dulSKWd by it, and it trai then ifaattthe detHiiy Qf'#biiiBi»'w« pHiaUe.
While veti only bdiei^t fehenBelves to be rafierior fVniitfae^MngUi of
thck bodies and the feme of their' conniecif ^yhad ceded tie fbe pom
of feebkness sod beauty; hut soai«eiy had tfaeyaoqaiied ii amatteriog
of sdenee» when pride seized them, end vramen neoriy lost titefr am^te.
But the worst period for them was the age of eeribes and doctors ; Ibr
at that time all the impertiaeikl queetiom ooocerDing the pn^^itfiaeoee
of men, and inferioffity of woncoy were bnmgkt Ibrwara*- Ifiien the
existence of their souls beeaase a matler of doubt ^' and tbeologt«» dieiii*
selves, amidst Ibesd agitating discnssioiiei Ingot for a moRHDty'tlitft>
Saviour wias made homtB by fan* mother. These diapatev fted>ttO(:
ckplorabfeicsidt, that the igtorance of wonsea becune a amnd-aysttm^
ai the iguoiMiee of the lower daases had beodrnq a system 4f pobey.
Our forefalfaers long confounded iguoraoee with innodenee, and tbesoe
came all their troubles ; they wblwd women tobe eifly for tfof sake of
their husbands, and the people to be ignorant for the ^sake^ pf jpow^r.
Women, thus assimilated to the people, like them, did not rece^jr^ any
s|ieeies of instruction. Every tbiog was agcdnst tbeip ; science^ le^is-
laturoi and theology,*-^fbat theology wbidr was tlnenHiittsketi 'Urt: tefi*
gion, and 'wbkb only w^s virtuoaa-undM the la^ df'dls€i^liiie,'aii&-tri'
the austeiaties of. peniteoee. It was by daprtviag thaml «f ' tfaelr* aoals«
by tul^l^ting tb^mtp laeiin.aod. vulgar habits, whiok^stoptfy: she < #iiBd»
that tb^ hoped to preserve, tfcem i^i^ppUesa purilgpb « •!» ..yhi.tbe tiase
of liouis t\ie FourteBCit^b,Avbeu ^ga[>en.,buiied tbiif94elviQ9;?nt|){aQE#aof'
state, the Abbe de Fieury declared t^^t giijs ou^^ be.^ta^bl •RfBf-
thing besides their catechism, sewing, silking, (Upcing^how; tp,^^|^|^^io
spe^dc civilly, and make a good courtesy. But t^e progress , na wished
them to attain consisted in knowing bow to read, write, and cijuier— to
know when tohsk advice in matters of busftiess, and enou^ ofThedTcloe
to tidte care of the sick. Then came Fenelon, who' Wished ihttp tti Mead
ancient and modevn history, t» understand I«atiti, to peruse 'W(Mi^y)f
eloquence, literature, and poesy; and yet such was the prejudice iMaog^
ing to a period when women exercised an alnu>8tftiaia^iG;fowiof>.and
gave grace and politeness to society, that the. «Kchbisbop'«r|is.DUigiv>)v49
add certain restrictions^ and to justify himself on theokigical prip«9ipJi<tt«
' Women/ said the venerable eccksiastic, ' aic half of the tfuiiiafiincev
redeemed by the blood of Christ, and like us destined U^ eterpal .Sf&i'
Thus, to teach them other things than dancing, singings •fiiu^ co|trtfiaypBg»
it was necessary to invoke the merits of the Redemption, b|)4 ^cpver thaw
with the blood of Christ."

A part of the foUowing fKl^age mny perhaps be well applf^ct
to other than French >vomen. " '

•i

" Since the time of Rousseau and iFoDelaii, gnat pwugiuss has'<ak»
place among men, and . oonie queatly the cduoatioii of women iiaB<:ii' i
measure pro6ted. The question is no longer Asked iwbetber ii^fce
ble to instruct them ; we consent tothedevelopmeat'of their teder-
standiog,and lessons ait given to then by artists aiid'mastQno^4ni-

Martin (m\the\Fdii^miMnkpfihtMiild$^ ^77

goagos; they skkkyot iuwere, a>geitcr*^ooiiina of itudy,'blit in ibis
study ooihtD^leadBtbeio toitiiiiik i^Hb sbeir dUrn tfaooghts :itit^ clrfefly
the aobool romiiicowiiioh'giiTeB odcupsttob^o llifeir'bMlifs, and ibu«, aftak''
age'Wbett HirpaiMooft airvtftr&koDcdy thma ptissiona'to wbiohthb habits
of vktii^ and tbe priDoipks of religioD ottgbt tb(be'6ppned, tii^'fihd
ID tbemidlfg& skili Mr the pianos amemoi^ far wcjitdB, and'A^soal'whicb
sleeps. Sndsii^ with some ram aaeeptioBSi tbe w6aan<>f tbe M^esetit'
day» «ilh..bar ioema- of' obvotion,' bar sdwat mandityf, btsr mcttbatitidal
talentdi bar love of pleasiire^ ber igDorannn^f tbe world; and'ber da^lra-
to hwe and beiloved. It is not tbat.this edocalioD bas no brigbt side;
on the dontratjFi it giTei gracaf and tone to society i tbe dacbest and ttie
cettmonera wife rital aacb otber in tbe cnltiimtion of fint»-riie talents ^"^^
sane oonkpaeQ posmtr nrhUi ove sold lior the' benefitiof libe Crntabs d^ntf
Pohi ) . otaeia pafim piotmss^ the pnoa of 'wbicb is devoted lo piouS'
paipotes $ aU wiile oornedtly and ekgatafly; and tbe f&»'bi S6vigfl6 '
and l4ifeydttearekacomeakEiast vnlgsr/* '

Upon this M. Aiip^-Martm observes that, if wpmen wpr^^ tp;
pass all their tives in studios s^nd/S^es^ If it vver^ Poly necesAacjr
for.th^ipato da^e and to pilea9e« tb/e great problemol education.
V.019I4 now >» solvqcl; but the hoMUS 0f pleasuva ate -few» ands
bottia of j^ecttoo MfiU <copfte-^wliat h thete,* tfaeii, 'he aiha; in aU
this, to lieach them tbe dotifesof' vA99» and inotb^sh?' Iti thic^'
same ahapiteF tbe mmty of modetn edbt^tion is' admirafily ^^-
posed? the appearance for the f^zYiiy, the totlitig at that which
ougbr to be only a relaxation, atid th^ forms of religioq Without
the substance^ are all' touched upon; and, disregarding the oppo-
sition of hiothers and school-mistresses, he calls it all vanity, and^
following the young girl into the married state, when united to a
husband as frivolous. as herself^ he ends tbe piii^ture' by. a descrip-
tion of theii: pnitual disgust We give the cloabg paragraphs m
thfr^iginaLi

** Aprils tn pardl tiM(tetr, txt 9 t>6So!il de le dire, ce n^est plus la
fttatneqiill faut endoetrrner par le laati, c*est le mar! ^u*il faut r^ge-
a^rer par la femme. Qae faire done i Hendre les femtnes an sentiment
complet de lenr dignitl^, et leur apprendre ^ distinguer le veritable amonr
des fiirenrs qoi nsurpent son nom. Le pfcmier point, c*^est ^u^elles
^veaHlent ^re ^mnees et respeet^es -, c'est qa*elles ne cbnsentent, ^ aUcun
prix,aQ d^orable rftle que* noaf passiori^ brutales leur imposen't^ c*est
qn'eUes apprennent, enfin, tout ce qu'il y a d'aVilissant dans ces hom-
nug^ aai le9 tti^n^carYi^nt en^^insJU^^

J oserai le dire, il n'y a point de progribs p9^]|)|e,,pqar,l^ aivilmtipnittant-
que les femmes ne nous auront pas fait rongir de ces assimilations gros-
■i^'qacfla-boDnBODfinagnie iidsumeaitiii: le finy la fiible^ les fentimes,
Isickmiaa.: fSmtecatuogaedct plaisirg de labrute^ oii Thomme fl6rrit>
juiqu'au sein qui IVport^ ! , , . .

** Maia dommeat nons en feront<eUflf mogir si ellea n'en jroagissent
^^^mkmtB^l H Qw la^.^iMoaBesaclar pluf eaqaiee aeii dont' dans tmt

278 Martin on the FornMum of ike Mindi of Wmet^

jemie fiUe U lumi^re de la pudeur^ comme die eel daoa mie jeane

la marqae de sa dignite. Ce ne soat pas les grimaces de la pnidcmw
c'est la vertu que je demande. Bq lendant la slduciion plus difficile^ je
rendnd ramonr ]diis ideal efe plus pur, je loi laissend les UlinMas qai
viennent enchaiiler ootie adoksceoce, et riatiodaiseat* poor la fntrnm
iois, duis le monde da beao et de Fiiifiiii I

" Aiosi doit s^aeoofDj^ TediicatioQ des fiUes. St qoaot i^ r^ucliiia
da inari, pottrgod news ep inqaifeter ? elle se fata timpleiiient ct nalorriW
meat par les vertas de la femme."

After a brief description of the present moralj literajT^ and
scientific state of France, and public instruction. M. Aime-Mar-
tin closes his first book with a passage which appliea to all
countries.

^* It is tbepefore religion which ought to nvf fy nailims ; they will be
just in the eyes of Grod who lore their brethren ; they will be powcdal
among men who love God. Here is revealed the true miiftioo of
women — ^placed among all peo|de, and in all classes^ the laws ^ pdicj
do not reach them, and, pure from our fatal passions^ they alone, iu the
bosom of society, are left to the laws of nature. Nothing need tiupt the
diaracter of women ; the eares of business do not tarnish the fredaxnoA
of their Iboughtt) they are neither warriors, magistmtcs, nor legiskion :
they use wives and mothers^ they are such as God wtihed ihem to ht.
They form one half of the human race* and by their very weakness ham
escaped from the oormptkm of our power and our glory« Let tittm
cease to regret that they do not share these passions ; kt tbeia leave to
us the tribune, thrones, and war, for, if they partake of our violeii^ who
on earth can soften it ! Such should be their influence, their kingdonii
they bear within their persons the nations to come, they hear in their
souls the destinies of those nations. Let them send through the whole
earth the words of humanity and liberty $ let them create an imiiulse
towards one common feeling for the lore of God and our oeighoiwr,
and their destinies will be accomplished* Annies are necessaiy for con-
quering the world $ one single moral feeling can civilise and save iu"

The metaphysical chapters of the second book are intended to
give us an ampler knowledge of mankind, and are full of quota-
tions from Kant and other authors ; but we will no further pause
over them than to extract the two following passageiSt which
appeared to us to be worthy of remark.

" But what is infinity ? All my efibits lo oonoelve k mtt im^eia $ it ii
equally impossible for me to deny or to comprehend it $ all I can ksow
is, that beyond infinity there is nothhig. Guided by this fiiSnt Ifgh^ I
place a cipher before me to which I constantly add odiefs ^ I fill an ia-
mense space with my calculations ; useless toll f eternally Inaraaaing, tast
composed of finite things, the two extremes oaly meet ny eyat, tlia lie*
ginning and the end. Then I look all round me; no«nd, no beginnings
that which the dpber always seeks without obcakiiag it, tiiat which is
before, that which is alter, that which is mmrf wlefa «nd for ««ar, chat

MartiB on the jP^mnatiof^ of ths Mmdi of Women. 279

» krfhiity. The feeting of infinity gives bq idea of all ihinga which we
canmii perceive hy means of the senses ; it realises to ns that which is
anknowD* The infinite is Qo^« It is God that thou seekest^ O my soul !
since nothing of that which is finite can detain thee here below. Thou
detacheel thyself finom all earthly joys, because these joys hate an end ;
thon shrinkest from all limits^ because all limit is non-existence. Within
tihysdf aloiie dost thon repose in thu infinity, which passes beyond our
passioaa, and which is at once thy hope, thy l^lht, and thy fulness."

The second passage is from the chapter on the immortality of
the aoul,

" Maisj dis-tu, je n'ose croire h de si hantes destinies. Dieu ne m'en

donne la pensSe que pour adoucir les maux de la Tie, et cette pens6e, ne

f(^t>elle qn'nne illusion, est encore le plus magnifiquedes presens. Qu'est-ce

done que Dieu poorrait me devoir au-deUt ? Eh bien ! jette les yeux

aatonr de toi, au milieu de tant de bienfaits prodigu^s, t&che de decouvrir

une deception. II s'agit de savoir ce qui a €tk promis et ce qui a iiU

domid, si les dons ^galent les besoins, si les jonissances manquent aux

di^rs. Cherche un animal qui ait soif, et qui ne puisse d6couvrir une

fontaine ; une plante attach^e k la terre, et sur laqnelle le souffle du

matin n'apporte de douces ros^es 5 une pensSe humaine qm ne puisae

s'accomnllr } un sentiment d*amour qui ne puisse se realiser ! Dieu dit k

ehsque intelligence : Ce que tu con9ois, je te le donnerai ; et sa magnifi-*

cence se montre jttsqu'aox limites de la nature. Vols ce fr^le moucheron !

88 t^te est couronn^e de diamans, its ailes sont couvertes des nuances de

Vare*^n-del 5 c'est pour lui que le zephyr balance les fleun, que la lumi^re

y depose ses parfums, et que le ciel y laisse tomber une goutte de son

ambroisie ; pour lui la terre est uu banquet magnifiqne, et la vie une

aurore radieuse toute consacree h la volupt6. Et cependant, an milieu

de tant de ricbesses, au sein de tant de plaisirs, aucune voix n'^vmlle sa

i^eonnaissance, rien ne I'occupe au-de1^ de ses appetits, rien ne Tinquiete

au-de& de son horizon : ii vit, jouit, et meurt ; son destin est Tem[^«

Qnoi ! le moucheron n'a pas 6te tromp6, et Fbomme le senut ! II y aurait

en nous un sentiment sans but, une inquietude de la vie celeste sans

neoessitefl des desirs sans accomplissement, des previsions ^ternelles sans

avenir, le supplice du n^ant en presence d'une immortality promise et

refusee ! Promise ! puisqu'elle est montr^.

'' Mais la douleur ! mais la mort ! Tu te plains de la mort comrae si
ta ne portais pas en toi le sentiment qui en triomphe ! Helas ! ces grandes
lemons ne nous sont pas epargn^es ; elles se m^lent h la vie de tons les
hommes. Dieu nous envoie le plaisir comme un roessager celeste qui
^Qs invite h venir k lui, et le malheur comme un maitre severe qui nous
y force. Ici, pres de moi, il y a peu de jours encore, j'ai vu perir dans
8& flenr un enfant, I'uniaue penscc de sa m^re. Helas ! avec quelle
anxietc elle cherchait la vie dans ces yeux eteints pour jamais ! J'entends
^core cette voix decbirante ! je vois encore ces regards douloureux !
Routes les consolations veniuent se briser contre ce mot : II n est plus !
Toat-ib-coup son &me s'exalte, une joie c61este briUe dans ses yeux inond^s
Qfi laimes: elle invoque k noip de Dieul die se ressouvient de ses

^8Q Uutiii oh^iXe Wtmkti&fi t^ti»MhA)qfMmM

prmnbsseg! «n stiitiiiiCHrt Imiaoml lot ftiiditdufe tm ^«|tte «
Cette m^re inconsolable, qui ne voulaittitO'enteoilniS*iASiDeM
dans lc» inapiratiotn <de I'infini ! Ca n*«8l^lai«|r la lem^b^ol dans Ic
etd, qii'«lfe*«onleiiiple'80D«ttfaiill < .. • ) ■

'< Ah ! si ellemeUeifditfftnsrle revoir^ q»'elleMuiiA ddrnftaD-! .Din
manqucm^'S-il de ponvcir tode jiutioe?' II yaomit magpifiowicfegt ?ibiiB
dans la tiewsfeuiclM^du ondiiclienN^ avtifite ct mBiisoiigedaDBlaTk
monle tt religieuse de rhmmttel Ltf vcrta {leneeotie snr Ja tmve^ et
lonrnaiit les regards vers le at\ 9 les defouemeas k la patrie et alt^geIIlc
harasin; rh^rooisitie, qui n'atSevd t)ki8 riett' id^basj^ioftt ka aanifico
feits an devoir dans leseol butdeflam dfc Dieu> ne sertaeaft done qua das
erreon de t*hilinatiit6 \ Toadme^ O Soerate I aUraiA:ea dee pemi^ plos
vastcf ^ la Cf^tioa ! Toi i Timii de k v|riti6> ea sfsraia'tnartpaor an
meoeoi^e ! Un Dic|i aataxt trompi derate ! L'^tre tw6k Eonk^ pis
an^aaaiBie queson Cr^ateor ?

** Noa I Noo ! la Fl'ovideBce ne r6poiid pas par one aeatencede naat
^lernelleaux sages ^i Tinivoqcient^ au genve bnmain ipu Jfattesle. €e
n^est pas sur Us tombeauxqa'u &ut lire sa reponse, o'cst.daaaiaoM iaK,
d*oii recbappe ce cri sublime : Dieu^ etefnk^ 1
. . " Qmuid^l hooHiif jette,8«s regprds sm.la4ena,q^ ji(9^il,^^;%c^|iDn«

qui tend k la perfection ideale, une raison dont la lumi^re se prio-
jette vers )e ciel, une ftme enfin dont touies les facultes raybnoent veit
Dieu t intuition myst&viense de la pivi'nit^, qni nons^^ntionce no antit
monde ausn s{h*ement^ue les sens itowi rSr^ent celni-oi !^

.11'

The second voluQie, including tho third and fourth pooks, is
Mfholly devote^ to religion : the iSrst chapter treats of, ei;rqr.fmd
tcut^i and we.stioaglj reconimoad its. perusal; it woulcf injivfe it
to make cojuqus ^s^tracts from it, ^nd Qur limiu ^Y^U Q^^kj^jpv.u^
to give more than the opening and conclusion^ whicn ^..as
follows:—. J.

^ Que puis-je ssii^oir ? Que dois-je hhh } qa'oie je es]^ttr >* J'41dfe
la yoix, jiDterroge totilcs les pbUdsojIliies, toutes les t^ligfdfiSr^t tool^
mie dtsenti Venea a nous ! Alofs, pr6t{<int roreJl]e,j't»itends les udes me
proposer de ne troi»t h Hen, ks alilres de crolvt m^^ exilmlb^. On
oORuHenee par exfger le docile, et Von fiuif par me den^aftder la ci^liie.
Si je ^arle de vert«i, j*entends donhisr ee nom an drita^; si jepaflede
I>iea, j'eniends doiroer ce nbiti K la oiAll^. Ff u» j WaUee^ f las nUi
nison.se trouble^j je Jt^ls pai* n%re^rde rienVpad m6me dela^mbstandb
de mon 4tne, pas m^tne de hi matl^e de aidn corps : \k nv$ta|>farysf<^ rte
nie lalsse qae mes sertsalkms': la lofi^n&/<[)«K flaeertltade 'totre'deteL
raisonneinefns cdnMires. Ainn je' tdm:b^ '^ l^tts le^ sysdbme^ %aAs Mrsr
ji aucun^ eok^vklioti/«l, pton^ dani <!^s;i^ki&btes '()hIlbsopblqate et

idigi^iats^'Bpate smfitoafeilvdbl^ tonlapptofaiidir j« m'trrtto, dbwfi

dftpex— ptmndrf qne;mon ncdt I. .. ;

'< Whsi lii^ft will gtti4o .]i9 ki Ifab shadovry |^a'^ (jkhesMtfchof

truth.) '* It is the great busioess of fiie^ and It inlKit'b«ieoii£ia»d liMt

wUdh sacMs lo dittnib «» the ie«al« It ia aoipfittfnea.jdbmisaed J^ col-

Iflgesi faua, httriog^oBce aiteied into the woddv «» hasten to.foiget h»

Lcctoitt. OD phiknopby are m BMOaged ■ tbali th^ do not teaoh us to

]ihiloaiqibiae, for th^ objeot.it to ' malM gpod. sdioian^ and not'i^DHl

pfaihBoplier8.» i^r vroinen i6 ia atiU wor8^4 «o loue dreams of dcvoloiH

ing their aoals^ and for 600G yeaM thejr Jia?o led tl^e worid« without Ite

ii«rfal:ihuikiiii9>ftfaafc in thecftcreiaeW tfueb Apwnrer the trntb is ^ any

eonseqnenoq to.iheni^ iThd sescaedbes me.aio mow > about id mako'Siril

ncoa^fnw'thenftiariihis oeeboD; foe them 'wt shall traeea km fmgn

of hvuiaa /wisdon ; tbeA^ abaudoKkii^ those and paths ^hich fMoso^

pbers will plant with abstractions and syllogisnis, we. sbatt enlor into a

new road, wheae Nature herself shall senre as a gUide^*'-«wbere all is

easy, idi is beaiiiifnl,-*^heDCi 4be «onl> resdess about its future state^

finds SbS'temslnation of its fears and anoertaintiei>-*-*^hel-e wisdom is

love, and troth produces ecstaoy.^

The^^iare bold wordb dn the part of our author/ and wfe will
endeavonr, by selecting ^ feyf passages, to show how fi^r be folfila
his great iindeitaklng, agaiti impressing on the mind of the read^
that he speaks to another nation, where education varies from our
owUi^ ina^mucll a9 we profess/at least, .to givq to both sex€(s a
knowledge of God;, where the great mass consists of CfithoUps),
and where dieo-e are consequently, wide differences in manners*
customs, and feelings.. We hopei however, that we do not, err
Mfhcti Ni^ yentni-e to assert* thiit Protestadts may Hso derive mbch
profit front' ad attentive pferusal'of M. Aha£-Martm^s pages. •
Tbe fallacy ofmetfiphyiAcal reasoning, taken as a ^ole, (hotvl
ever ^ppti^bld' wfe ttiay Arid certain 'isrfated passages,) is thus

Handled: •'•' '" ''' ' ' - '"' 'J' ' " " •''

" How can it arrive at a single nositive truth, when even existence is

tir it an insoluble problefKi? Il^e' bodies wbich surroiHid me, the soul

wbich reeei^B the impressions of tWe bodies, are denied, by metaphyr

min^ wilbcm^.«»y being «ble,to>eAile the denial For theoA there is

neith v.. matter nor niady-^-aiot, a perceptible beipg^oor: a perceptible

.ob|eet^ wke^er we.se^ a^ity, a river, .tbe suO] the firmament » the

Isafvals of the ea^th ^ fifi^i or iptbe^ber,,^^ see. a. .man wbQ sees aH

.tbes^ 4h>Qgiy ; tbere^iq no.t,a sutler /Bensatipn within us which can prove

tWr wality . '. TMim' ^9, «ot . pdst,' . says B^ki^fiy- Tha. AQ^U t^ af^

xitual, aobsg»nc<^ .then rem^nfr ' Spiri^M^l^ui^tim^^, do noli f^ist> . says

Hhva^n Tben the s^iatioos. r^maio.,; ' What does feeJUot^^mean? Jim

I cartaun thsA, I feeU* sayi M, de ]9:MiBi)Qa]s, ,(a calebrf^ted modern

writer). Tbns the highest efforts^ of theimmlerstandiag lead us to tbe

last degree of absurdity. Man cannot affirm anything about bis own

being; he can neither say I am, I feel, or I think. Show me after this

what remains of ereatloh.^ Bat astonidimentls^fc^ because these meta-

£82 Martin on tie Formatum tf ike Mkdi of Wtmim.

phyries^ whick reliise to ns the proofs of oor own eKiitence, ckbixii
a£Pord ut proofs of the existence of a God. Hovr cui smd pn^e ttm
God u, by reasoning which cannot even prove to him that hs own
material body exists } Kant places on two parallel lines the metuiliyncii
arguments for and against the existence of God ; then he weifj^ tfaen
and shows their equality. Argument having decided nothings doahs
appears^ and the truth remains unknown. Thus one of the noUess of
human understandings has employed all the strength of abstract reason-
ing to establish that this abstract reasoning is poweriess when seekhig
for principles. But^ instead of complaining of such want of power, we
ougnt to be thankful for it. What would become of troths that trtilli
wUdi ooght to be universal^ if nature had placed her densoDstratioo in
reasoning whidi is unintelligible to thiee-fiNurths of the httnum tmoe^

We were about to say that the able chapter on the authority of
learned theologilins would probably apply more to Catholics dian
to Protestants; but we glanced around us^ and we paused. The
thronging of our countrywomen to the churches of their favourite
preachers; their restlessness and discontent when forced by cir-
cumstances to attend any other; their enthusiastic and tender
praise of these their holy men; the infallibili^ with which tbey
clothe them; their blind submission to all they enjoin, in defiance
of the authority of the most sacred ties of family and gratitude, —
of that decorum which in all other cases they would cherish more
dearly than their lives; that influence which they allow their con-
fidential priest to possess, not only over their consciences^ but
over the most trifling occupation in their domestic arraogeokents;
that sweeping clause of condemnation which they cast over all
who presume to differ from the Reverend Mr. A. or Mr. B. — all
thisi we say, started before us; and we would fain ask them also
to pau^, and, looking at the number of popes which they thus
create, ask themselves how nearly they approach to the erron of
that great division of the Christian religion which they prof^aoa to
abhor. But we must not write a religious discussion, when we
are only called upon to give an account of a published woik;
and, affirming that we are most sensible to the welMireded
efforts of zealous and benevolent clei^men,-^that we have wi^
nessed vrith tears the consolation, the soothing, which Holy Writ
has imparted, when falling on the ears of the a£Bicted and the
dying from their lips, — that we hail with joy the appearance of the
true minister of God among his suffering or thoughtless congre*
gation, — we conclude this passage in the words of Aim^-Martia
himself: ''No one more than ourselves respects the Holy Scrip-
tures, but, at the same.time, no one more fears the interpretatioos
given to it by" ^bigoted) "man."

The succeedmg chapter is, perhaps, quite equal to that of
which we have just spoken, and has for its subject the refbtatioo

MardD on the FarnmHon of the Mindi of Women. 9»$

of the infallibility of the mag* of opinion. We reluctantly pass
over the chapters treating of the Unity of God— the influence of
one single trudi over the world— the attributes of the Divinity-*-
the study of Goc^in the soul of man, and in nature — the laws of
creation — the sociability of the human race^-physical and moral
love — marriage — maternal affection— the propriety of keeping all
things in their proper places — and the absence of all design to
raise women beyond their own sphere of duty — till we come to
the assertion that reaction is always in proportion to the action,
on which our author says :

** The action does not always come upon us in a direct manner; some-
times it strikes the actor, sometimes those who sarround him. These
proofe of justice may appear, to us to be slow and capricious} they over-
turn a throne when we only see a guilty p(^ulace $ they destroy a nation
when we see but the tyrant to be punished. Then come those excep-
tions which irritate us or strike us with terror. All this proceeds fiom
the weakness of our own sight, and sometimes also from the greatness
of our pride. We form our judgment according to the laws of human
justice, and not according to those wide and profound views of universal
jusUce which form the justice of God."

In closing this chapter, which is intended to prove that the
natural bent of man is towards that which is excellent, we shall
use the forcible words of the author.

" Vons venez de voir les astres se multiplier, comme les sables de la
mer; montez, montez encore ! Plongez avec Herscbel dans ces abfmes
de lumidre et de feu ! Le grand bomme aspire k ce qu*ii y a de plus
beau; son Ame pressent que toutes ces etoiles qui rayonnent dans
I'espace doivent avoir leurs etres animes, leurs ^tres iDtelligens. Qn'est
ce pour Itti qu'un soleil qui ne ferait qu'^clairer? Dien s*est donne par-
tout des spectateurs. rlein de cette pens^ il observe Tastre dont la
presence donne le jour, et bientdt il decouvre que cet astre est une plan^te
opaque^ tdnibreusct asses semblable k la terre, et non un cbarbon ardent,
<pie la himi^re n'emane pas de son sein, mais qu'elle nage dans son
stmospbift comme les nuees dans la ndtre ; qu'elle s*y forme nerp^tnelko
nmit pour rayonner sur les mondes, et sans doute aussi sur le soleil lui-
la^ma, qa'eUe eclaire, qu'elle f&sonde, et qu'elle aurait cent fois con-
sume, si, par des moyens qui nous sont] ioconnus, Tardeur devorante de
8es fenx ne se trouvait sans cesse adoucie. Et il en condue que le phe-
Dom^ne de la vie se prodnit dans le soleil comme sur la terre, mais sous
des formes et avec des conditions di£Ferentes. Ainsi, d^passant les pro-
fondes conceptions d*Huygens, qui, en peuplant les astres, n*avait os€
peupler le soleil, le jeune Herschd s'el^ve d'un degre de plus vers le
vsau| il sent que Tintelligenoe est partout, paroe que partout il recon-
udt un Diea* Dds-lon tons les points lumineux da firmament s'ani-
neut par la pii^ et par i'amour ; chaqne planete, chaque etoile, chaque
soleil, chaque voie lact^e, est un autd qui flamboie et d'ou s'ekmce
rkynme vaioqoeur dn n6ant| et Tensemble de ces plan^te^ de ces

^ite^gree with M. Aitii6^Miidittv wM ttanjr •th^tie^nuMl ^vad

'jgd'od .men: that we may 1)6, cati be, midsliall be,'tnMh bMcr,

' we do pot doubt, — nay/ ^e even jidmit that we are better; fcni

jth^, e^penepce of all a^es^ the contemplation of ipankibd mfy

,iinf^ th^ Ct^ristian era^ mal^Q us fe^r that in this 1i|e'dur ftlfen

: . MtjMQ. CAA n^v^r, rfeftcl^ , p^fi^fi^tx^ In all times there Jbave ^eo

«Qum9|>leB of brilliAiit virtue,, but that , virtue^ J^as at .^j( heeh

human, and is mingled with weaknesses which ilepeM ,oa the

material, 9trm;tun^ with which Qodhas enveloped our soida..

The chapters on death, and the application of the laws of pa-
ture to those of man, are, perhaps, not so powef'ful as.maaj
other^^ but in the latter we could not help being' struck' mith
some. of the remarks on the ancient writers, tor the j proved to lis
that in all times £auaticism has.m^de use of similar n^eans* TV^

• writiiigt of Su Jerome, wbkh are especially addressed to. the
- novioea in convents, are but the. first, edition of certain- hooks,

which are now put into die bands of young women, inoidef lo

watn them against sins and inelinfltioiM of which we feel auvo that

dn^^tishtfas of our females wouM remain in ignoronee were it not

< kut these 'Wnrnin{(s« ' The only dii&renne liea in .the wondai and in

> ihe^ Im^eb mona pernicioua excess of the' second edition^

In treating of our hopes foe the ftilnMr -M. Aim^iMastin^tbtts
i.twnieflj •"•

* ^^Buifote the Gospel ihete was bat little hepefor lunu«i^$'eiaoe

'th«n', uW else has b^eii reduced to notbbig. iteokon tbe fottowen ef

' each fff^on : gf v6 1 47 milliotis of scnils to Confaclus, to Shito^ »d Mafitai

iMd to F^itihhm ; 1 70 millions to Boeddha and Us five^apaedee 9 W to

•Bmimi^ ak^ 96 to Mahc^meti Amid this censoialnp of mankind' Je«s

^ CTiH^e ts fbttkid' to poetess 270 millibns of disciples. ' Wbeiever' may be

• th^ eonmittttion, Greek ^ iloman CatboUcbm, Lnthenuiism or Cal-
' Vlbisrm ; ' tife Crobp^l has bill one ebjeet-*tbe enfMnohisement of idl
^ hatiM^s y Ibutf one ^Eiture^the trinmpb off virtue and bomanityv"

J/' p(^v{ng thus prepared nhe reader for his ultimate object,
j jyf^ ^jme^M^rtin,. in his fourth .^nd last book, proceeds to the
MreiigKon of 21 woither of a family^ and he th\i§ commences,

'< I ea^tioW juboiit to tiSeat of raUgiea in .pmscace.of its tbtoes giaatest
.ispemi|es— incredulity, indifference, and fanaticism — taking ref^son fipr niy
guitl6, and .only seeking tiie truth, a difficult task, which 1 am anxioas po
ralfit witliout wounding the conscience of any one. ' For this pur|K>se, I
declare that my object is notto change the modes of w6rsl]ip,>or to^ over-
litrn idiftginaliM tilles* Over every one of the apecial and cbangeable

Martiti ok the Pormaiidti of the Mhidn of Womeii. 985

tenets bJF e&cb seoc reigns an immolable religion, which enfoldt them all,
to the sky BUitottmIs the earth. My object ia to burmw from that rtli-
gioDy tfhidir ia anniiiieff up In the Gospel, those eternal principles which
agree with all creeds ; Ui introdace them gently*by means of fsmale in-
fluence, -and thns ^gradually to adf«rice towards Ahe.triiiiBph of Ohris-
sianitywovi ih other wtrils, the cUriliaatiOn of the m>rM» < • • Themore
subUitieibs reUfpon that is girisn.to our motbitrs* the more vi?id will be
oir owjB impressions : to neglect to instruct our teachers would be to
lenoaope pur. own instruction. May proper tliougbts of God descend
upon QS at tlie sound of our motliers* voices, — may these thoughts pene-
trate into bur sou U. — qsay their Tight strrrotinrd tts, — may they be the
joy 'of on]' chiltJhqpd, the stfence of otor beiirt, the Hffe off our soni, and
our %iipp6xi at that ^ribd t^eri'tdo fait beams of ilmbeenoe troMble
before, MAffe^ til V the passie«iai" >" ■•

While spcakiiig"* of ffie religion oif th6 hurfiart race; our nuth
further savs :

'' Before His coming. (and I inlentionnily dwell. upon this thought)
poriti^'al institutions alone traced the duties of the citizen; morality de-
pei^ed' on Ictiglous worship onTy as far as its niaterFal interests were
conc4rmH( ; hothi^^ united man to Got! ; he was virtuOtis for the sake
of bift ^ocmtVy,^tbe Gospel teaiches «s '4o be virtuoos for the sake of
btinrafaity and. of heaven* In thus combining motBlhy and veligioD, the
breof Gad and Dien^ Jesus at oocedlowod the iosuffioiency of the reli-
glmof pbilosopbers, vtbich preaohed morpUty without relig^oni and the
'fatality <if,tbal^.veUgion without morajityv which belonged to the Pagans."

In ft ^comparison 0f the Chriatinnity of other- ttoiea and ibat
of the present day wkh the true doctrines of the Gospel, we
fidd tbexicdicwiifg li^utif«i passage :

'' How has such love for mankind been changed into persecution and
daiBi^i^tt } How has the God wlio came to seek the stray sheep, the
(iod> who caUs all men to bimj become the God of anathemas and exclu-
siao?'^ If these doctrines are the work of Jesus Christy we most reject
thian aseniifttly pemfi^ioas; if thqr are the work of raaoj our foith must
he purified* The fault lies in our recognisuiig the man in our religion,
*ben< we-oighi/only to recognise God« .... It ip the general spirit of
Uts hook wbioh mutt be taken \ some sentences, some pages, scattered
^m and there, may favour violelKei but. if the whole book condemns
it, how OBQ we justify it) Two books verify each other^the book of
|he Ajpostles aqc) the book of nature. \ study them^ I reflect upon them.
<^u f compare them. In this magnificent examinatioa the book of
nitu're interprets the Gospel, and the Qospel teaches me to read the book
of nature, fn each 1 discover the same laws, — in each 1 reeogniae tbe
tame hand) — and when they cease to agree, I pause and I donlS.*'

. Passing qver the chapters treating of ceKbacy^ sanctity, the
iRon^Uh priest, hope and faith, and the true Gospel priest, we
&nal[ only furtlier pile the coucluding address.
'* Oh wofoen 1 if yon oonld only see one of the miracles promised to

VOU XVII. NO. XXXIV. X

960 Meon, Chabaille, Mon^i aud Grimin.

maternal influence, with what ndiie pride wonld you enter iipop tbn
career which has so generously opened future ages to year endecvoon!
That which it is not in the power of any monarch or any nation to ac-
complish, it is given to your will to execute. You alone can unite tbs
scattered flock, and give it one common impulse. That which I have
not heen ahle to trace on this cold paper, you can engrave on tlie hearts
of a whole people. I ofier to you a feeble image of the tntlh, md yeo
can bequeath the truth itself to the whole world. When, in o«fe* pnhfic
walks and gardens^ I see on all aides the noiiy crowida o€ cfaHdico,
cUverting themselves with the sporta snttabk to iheir Bge» my ieait
trembles with joy at the thought that they yet belong to you. I^t carb
devote herself to the happiness of her own children, for ia emch is4i-
vidual happiness God has placed the promise of general happiness.
Young girls, young wives, tender mothers, it lies in yon^ much more
than it lies in the laws of a legislature, to confirm the mture destiny of
Europe and the destiny of mankind !''

Abt. III. — 1. Le l^oman du Renart^ public d*apre$ let Mami-
scfits de la Biblioiheaue du Roi des XIIl% XIV% et XV* Sii^
cles. Par M. D. M. Meon. 8vo. Paris. 1826. 4 tomea.

$. Le Roman du Renari, SuppUmeiU varianits et f»rreciwm.
Publie d'amh les Manascrits de la BibUothioue du Roietde
la Bibliolbeque de r Arsenal, Par P. Chabatlle» Svo. Pads.
1835.

3. Reinardus Vulpes, Carmen Epicum seculis IX. et XIL ton-
scriplum. Ad Jidem Codd. MSS, edidit et adnotattoni^iis
illustravit Franciscus Josepfaus Mone. Reinhart Fuch$ aas
dem neunten und zwolften Jahrhmukrt. Herausgegeben nnd
erlautert von F. J. Mone. 8vo. Stuttgart und TiibiDgeii.
1832.

4, Reinard Ftichs. Von Jacob Grimm. 8vo. Berlin. 18S4.

«

Twice already has the world-renowned Reynard the Vo% figarad
in the pages of the Foreign Quarterly Review;^ and we certaialy
should have denied him the houQur of a third and last ^ff^^
auce, had he not come recommended to us by introductioos from
such accomplished scholars as Mone and Jacob Grimm. But
could we, who have already admitted his universal popularity in
one or other of his protean shapes, refuse to notice the hitherto
inedited Latin poenii *' Reinardus Vulpes/' which its learned
editor unhesitatiugly pronounces to be the arch-type and prefigu-

II i^piipi «pipi» II, »

* Vol. Vill. p. SIS and p. 391.

He^fiarii the Fox. W7

Aon of All those *' FamouB Histories and right tnerty Adven*
*tes" in which the crafty courtier of.Jhe..]tlo^ oX beasts plays a
jTt? Could we refuse to notice a volume in which Jacob
.rimm communicates to the world of letters the results of his
ivestigation into the history of Master Reynard ? Certainly not.
te have therefore determined to call the attention of our readers
jnce more to the subject^ and to include in our notice Meon's
edition of the '' Roman du Renard," and the indispensable sup-
plement to that edition, lately published by M. CbabaiUe; be-
cause our doing so will enable us to exhibit a tolerably complete
sketch of the literary history of this .very popular and widely clr*
culated cycle of romance.

As an introduction to this sketchy we must however beg leave
to say a few words, touching the nature and spirit which pervade
those numerous stories in which Reynard figures as the hero.
Tom Heame, whose judgment cannot be pronounced, like hiis
industry, unquestionable, said, when speaking of the English ver-
sion of this romance, " It is an admirable thing ;*' and so far ^
Tom was right. But when he follows up this assertion with 2i>^
another, viz. " and the design, being political and to represent a ,

wise government, was equally good/' — poor Tom, with all defer- /2.^Ziy^-<L^
ence be it spoken, was confoundedly mistaken. The design is
not a political one^ neither is it, as others have erroneously cha-
racteriaed it, satirical. Jacob Grimm, in the very first chapter of
Ilia introductory Essay, enters into a discussion upon this point, A

and shows very clearly the impossibility of the popular stories, in -^ /
which animals are the actors, being in their nature satirical. We
ragfei that we are precluded by its length from extracting this
chapiter, in which the learned author displays a Critical acumen
that can only be excelled by the indefatigable research manifested
in the succeeding pages of his work.

The stories in question had in fact their origin in times far
diflbrent from this rail-road age; in times when men were in
daily contact with the world of animals, either in tending their
peacctfuf ftocks, chasing the wild deer, or hunting down the beasts
of the forest. The peculiarities of the different animals were
broaght by one or other of these causes consftsmtly before their
ayes, werif coifstantly becoming the'subject of their speculation;
and the considenvtion, that, in many respects, the living creatures
wbidi they saw around them resembled the human race, that, in
flome> as in sharpness of sight, quickness of hearing, and fineness
of smelKng, they far excelled them, gave rise to numerous suppo-
•itioDs as to the relationship which they bore to man ; and these
form the foundation of all those fables in which animals enact

V 2

(2B8 Meon, Cbftb^H^ M(HlQ^'4iiid Grimm.

s •<«'hi the flM (tlAoe/llM (i|Me roust >exlitbit>liie iRii»Mli.'M'M«|^'M-
dowed with harnan ififtioii, «tiil ioidiited iniaeUihectttoiiii^kiMiMiidi^
tions of oiir mode of |i^ii|g, 40 tbat^tbei^behATiour has nothing at all

tt^ajpli to be p!A<
fd't^cogviMitb^' tOfistti^ bf thc'Mr'blf; fHiosu^aks^tUtirlib^ilii^I'MMi)

formal contrncf AMMt^ th^ ihtKom i tbe> M$«<^ ' bf < •1t}«'t4ttlft^>'^Aid^ 'la hk
trial with the aniinf|l rQC9g^|?^.f)^,l.lop as f^coifmon judge between

{hem. But then, on the other hand^ the peculiarities of ibe nature of

TlWi^, Vb^ -tock"Uhgls 9iaHdihg^<ipbn"ofie %; ^nd ihirttth^bT^'^e^^-a
4ih«rat«er;Blie)tt«U, etitii^^^obkd fVoiu ^tui^. Soi in IkS b«il{e'iHtt
^e iwolf, 4ae8 «be • fot avail Jtimscdf bf <ill h}» >nat«iMl • otmnihigw iIq Ukc
madtfer; the oat^rdeeplyHnipreued proptooily ^ «|ce/ tttectufff*^ fbodi'
ness for hoMfi ^riro^ssury ie^m vf tlHtffiibl^ frbpi jviuAuAh^ moet
taking situations arise* Wifhput tt^is upitin^ m^^pae of two in reality
opposing elements, the. apynat fable' (jTiierfc^el) cannot exist. Whoso-
ever would invent stories in wliich the anlmats merely comported them-
selves like men, but Were pccaslonaliy gifted with )he names and forms
of animals^ would fail as completely jn catching the spirit of the fabk, at
ti)s #lk^M)btiUr'Mieibptnd'eiAiihit tlie atiimah with AH "ilfeti^V'bfiui-
4t^ vi^ilb^t4ihtndA "aUdfess 4tid -without f he ^inMMl^M ^^^itibtft tf MIA: f f
the animals of the fable be without* oirf «maek of. htStiMiii^^ Ihe M^be-
comes absurd ; ifjtlie^ fir^ .^ilbc^t: tmc^a pf it\lfi\r Haimal nature, it be-

comes wearisome.*'

Thus much of the nature of these fables, j^s we have already
observed, Grimm* denied that there einsts in them any tendency
iio^isiftird. /Ho «toubtiJ:!nloft^t»i'^ and with gotd skew<6r l^MO^
^eih^r>th4ir abjeei>\w didajctici ''^ Fabled saj^h^^^it^now
^imtW(^'in9tM'(^ivey yetl bdi^vek^ flr^i beginnitig>'iio('tti htxe
4bMl»- iiMWKtftibnv" Bur ^ miUBt teaye hir 6|^<^altolfi8 '^idn
<tbUi|irtiir) dnd'<hi$'>shifte^^(>ribieisoi upon the' ^Itftonr^'^ 1^-
naklli "And' IJdSsiAg^M >b^ doflsiidteMd as iBtic«e8Mill>'flibufi«!ii,'^M<l
J«oNMi«eitc6'0Uf "tlnw^i^f lliiii>is^Md fUrdgl'eMI'erttietAtiAdlM itA-
-i^btuiiQfii ^if-Rg^tiAMl'thiie'FbKl' ••i'-^'-'; •■■i^ , MiiiNjq .i«-

Imiiamus ab imtio is a good rule, and, though we cannot'M^
W&«ib« IMMiser^niiMiiMt^hjenrtb^'ev^^lB recofd^ ^yAe^^hSto-
^iMa'<tfr<imyiittyft'iiihs»v$ii|^po9«d to* hifVe h«(ypcMtH 1^ M«M(fidt
|lP«M|f>«rri tf^ iJtrdiiaMVtbe tiietttt to- that • ifitei'Ba«ilig ' p^iM^lqpokdi
i0([1tby^lhiiiwiM»tiib)«^bn>tiiel«r<df«'St:. Biettk; «!*««'€«' ln^'Atie'tes
4iilBlte{pifMelftv^'--^n e|M)«h litewi^^^ |o bylll^ stft^a^trs

''iBbrt)lldii'^tMJbiia''^<tqtMimltf te be«li^ )MhrUvaii6^^'^i WtlM'wiis'ttie

hard to decide, but we^imiijf ftiii^.9re4|itii«i|hj^>Ml<1Va»iH)c^il9rii^
learu^ l«iigU«ge9» «iic6,?we have^f:olQp^t^t iiift|l|orit; Cod iwlsert-
ing that'I^itiir waS'/ortneiiy employed. hy ifaiwii :» . « •: i; /• b>v/v.^

''^' L?'oWrx dise en sonlratiti/' ' • ' "' ^^''<

• 1 I

says.LiLaisdet'OiseTet.', ; ".'\ :;';..:;;;

But though the questioE^ qs to when Kej;nar4. ftoV^ilie^ J^
my<ij\vQ^ ux this, obscurity, the laboiirspf modATnTBoUqif^n^is .if^y,^
thrftVj* Vjposider^We; light ^pon the 0fxtt<quR9MQ«i» DApo^l/^.^fi^p
Hiia9,)ii9iAa^idbK>ieO|)iii»&tlMQfithegimt.GiM loj Uur.i*t

^.■y-nt^iS y:\rj' ^fflTb'pofM a' mt)tiiUridftddrti'^;i«W^ ''<•/' ^^ •';«'' ^^''^i

n^no^ jproduces sh post of w^tiveasesj lo.3nq\v ho|^?f.:>^7d^iXflpre^3f}
and lipw favourably Received was JReynjiras Bi^loyy, Ui .^i^ ,4j^^
»W^ Uyn. CBauti^r-: de Coinsi, one of the Uf^ei p9f!|t&iof blii fig^,
wbo^tis iiLpi(m».e!C«l«8iQ9tic/beld in slight /esh^^^ lh&/pr4i»-

ibiMi Bhrtflriab (rf poetry^ naaiqtaip^^Mrhen^fip^fkiiig I9C faitt ViiMbrai*
isles' (hUa Viergey^ which were^compl^iect^m ie95<> tbwt ' « 1 ^-^"
'./ o ■ ; . ' V. '«'l>luidcHt6iis'5bnt$!1iit'66nt^'''''^ ^i.o »...)- ini^lnt

.. ;,i Jr .;., ., ^ . .^^ bones gens, par sa?di Omei'i^ ,''m:.,h- ./» -r.,.oii.|t»

•uH. •-...:>..... T . Ne de rarrfw Ifi' Iteon i'* -f/"-^ .'^^u! -..1,1 .-.vlu

„au.d, wtbar pbaejrvea that even cburcbik;»en.w^ri?,9)9^nQjffp§ii^m p^

kaviftg. ippF^^^Utiom frpBi ihW;iable ia tbeir ,flb^nU^9i .tbnii
^ag^t Qf: ibe wnta in tb«ir x^btiroheti : V : ,• ' • ... v ]. ^

'.. •«

(,

\, ^»...: .; :^ .;'^>Enkui<md««tiCT»fWfforit|i»ft8ftt})^c'' '• '^J^ -.>m'*.

Sitost limage Notre Dame • » •'' •' "' •!!'.»»

.Com font A^vifipi-et w>a^e. ■ . ,,^ ,{ ,„,f, „„]]

I'll

ag(

^^

E^ Jeur chambres ou a, r^P9^)Qnt^* ., . ■ . ^^{^

Aai%^p.pr^x)f the eftrly pppplatity^of tbi^-atory^May b«£puii4
in S«ifft Fi>ix'^ ''£$4ai$ Hist9n%MS 3111* Pari^/* ^bt^e. M^>.(ine
t^d that Phiripjfe BeUfilPbably tio m^rufy ^b^ Ppp^.^Bo^ifef:^
VI,il.^,wbf>4^^ 1303), witb m^biiNP bfr WM on bfidi^«Mific^«»il4
tbef^iiV<H}^^ip» B^nari".tQ b^ aoiainlJy r^ptr^flnl^ iniN!i)}i«b)li
^?n>»»ffii;«f)ptb0d ia the. ^I^in 0i[|i fp.viOi«r..wb^ii h«^/i»v§mi;fi
Fie^> robfePx performed m^9»ji^,tb«4i r4n//af(eff»|i4^d^iWMrofl
the poultry; and it is probable tbarfa^ihi/ixb^bittoid pfAIQifiiO-

31ie P/o^Qg^la^ fiafar «a w^iat pri»8f04!rli4ftKW*^Mm' #ille«faHl
Reypaifd ^ tfac^ h«(^ of «iiir pqeiaa^. ,/r])^^v«rtb^l««9^/i6ls jofbffiMil^
^^u Irof^ibf ir. lAijipffHiiiratt .Witb tbfi »l!|(Qriii«M:aQ4 tbejfi«o^im9ih

aoc^ witliilj^ IkefiitiMre^irf their iriH«bW'ibf)^:)SoMih(MimiJ^
witb.bifi e^iploita; ^Md. tb«'.«oi»^q|«eBpeiiia, tbiii.wlifN!}g«t)4te
lyrical co^ifkiositfofka. of 'the TiVotJ^adbiitafiitetitind^^umoiitifto^itllls
atory older than any poem' by a Trouveur now extant on the subw

£90 Meon, ChabaiHe, Mono, and Grimm.

ject; older than the lost Nonuan-French poema of tibia cy€hi^
however, they cannot be.

For instance, our own monarch, Richard Coeor-de-Lioaf ia a
Sirvente which mugt have been written between 1109 uhI 1199f

has an allusion to this story —

** £ vos juoastes ot mo]»
£ men portastes Uel foi
Com NaeugrU a ReuiaertJ^

Gavaudan, who wrote about 11 9^* Peire de Butsinacj wtio
according to Raynouard flourished before the end of the twelftli
century, and many other celebrated writers among the Proven-
galSy likewise allude to it.

In Spain and Italy the history of Reynard seems tiowever to
have been but little known ; while, on the other baud, the story
is shown to have been highly popular in Flanders at the begin-
ning of the thirteenth century. Subsequently to 1229. but before
1250, a canon of liege (whose work forms proper^ the third
book of the '' Vita S. Odiliae Leodiensis/ printed in the second
volume of Chapeaville) when relating the victory of his countiy-
men over Duke Henry of Brabant, says^ '' Dux autem^ (Braban-
tinus) suorum indens interitum^ fugit ad ip$um comiiem {Ferrau-
dum, Flandremem)f quarens induciaset veiiiam decommissQ. Super
cujiis palUata hypoani Flandrenses indignati proceres, • tya\
inquiunt, ' Rainardus /actus est tnonachus? "

Shortly before this, in 1204 and 1206, occurred another eVient
recorded in the history of Flanders, which shows how widely
spread was Reynard's reputation at that time. Mathilda^ the
widowed countess, was at open war with a party of her subjects.
The adherents of Mathilda assumed the name of Isangriner
(Isangrhii) ; those who were opposed to them being designated
Blaufusser ( Blavotini). Such is the statement of a contemporary,
Ricordus, in his history De Gestis Philippr Augnsti (Duchesne,
V. 54), and his testimony is confirmed by Guilermus Brito. and
the later evidence of Philip Mouskes (from 1274 to 1282 biahop
of Tournai), who, in his partly printed Rhyming Chrooiclej says

'' £t grant douaire tint vers Ipre
En cele tiere des Istngrins,
Qui baoient let Biaootms"

Jacob Meyer, in his Chronicon Flandrise, mentions the ctrewfl-
stance, and explains the allusion to the wolf in the name of the
Isangriner, bot is unable to do the same for tiietof the Bhivoter.
Grimm, however, and the circumstance of its being the name of
the opposite faction calls for some such explanation, assumes
that the epithet is connected with the history of the fox, who, as

Ueyimrd the Fox, Q9 1

he abowa very clesrly, was soaietimes designated by the coaxing
name of Blaufuss (Bluefoot) and Schwarzfuss (Blackfoot).

JSut the earliest te^timoay to the existence of popular stones
in whicb. the iox and the wolf exhibit those peculiar traits by
which they are characterized in the Reynardine fables, is that
which is afforded by the Abbot Guibert de Nogent in his Auto-
bjograpby, and which proves them to have been as familiar to
the natives of Picardy at the commencement of the twelfth cen-
tury as the pastapes we have quoted above prove them to have
been to the Flehimgs a century later. Guibert, oi' Wibert, a native
of Be^uvals^ was elected Abbot of the Monastery of Nogent,
near Coucy, in 1 104^ and died in 1 1^4. He wrote three bookft^
De Vita Sua, which were published among his collected worka
at Paris, by Lucas d'Achery, in ]6dl ; and in book 3, cap. 8»
p. 507, he relates the murder, in 1112, of Gualdricus, or Wal-
dricus^ Bishop of Laon, In Picardy, who had made himself hated
by his cnmes and offences. The insui^ents sought everywhere
for the bishop) who had cdticealed himself at their approach ; at
last they examined the cellar, ^' cnm itaque per singula eum va^a
disquirerent, iste (Teudegaldus, the chief of the rtiurdeJ^rt) pro
fr6nte fonnuls iliius in qua latebat homo, substitit, et retuso
ohice sriscibatur Stigeminando *Quis esset?* Cumque vix eo
fustigajdte getida jam ora movisset, ' Captivus' inquit. — Solebat
autem episcopas eum Isengrimum irridendo vocare, propter
lupinam scilicet speciem : sic emm aliqui soletit appellare lapos.
Alt ergo scelestus ad pr^esulem, ' Hiccme est dominus Istngrinus
repositus V Renulfus igitur, quamvis peccator, christus (i. e.
uuctUs) tathen Domini, de vasculo capillis detrahitur." In this
remarkable passage, obscure as it is towards the conclusion, in
which we should probably read Renardm instead of Renulfus,
we see that in 1 1 12 this fable was so well known that the name
oflsengrim was satirically applied to a wild-looking man, and
moreover. that every one of the common people understood the
allusioii. From which we may reasonably infer that in the North
of Prance this characteristic fable was then one generation older
at least ; that it might, in short, date its rise from the middle of
the eleventh century.

We have thus historical testimony to the fact of the story
being current at the commencement of the twelfth century. The
Barnes of the chief actors afford philological evidence of its exist-
ence in still earlier times. We will not follow Grimm through
^e ^ight-aiid«twenty pages occupied by his chapter upon the
■^^ienwmen (names of the animals) ; but as we have long felt that
|be very name of the fox in the French romances upon the sub-
ject served to prove, not only that those romances were not of

of the fo!t Uvupil,9tid not the Teu«6ifie ReU«avd> wcMiiilfhaveob-
tkinedy ad the name of the hero,) bdt tlMt th^^'Ol^rnMui wyiiSer» ted
reason (m their side when they claimed the credit df this fimmnte
narrative for their countrymen j we shall content oarsfelves ^irith
extracting one passage, important for the etymolo^cat ^piinds
which it affords for snpposing that stories of the Fox and Wolf
were known to the Franks as early as the 4l!h/54'y tod Otb'pen-
tunes. After showing that the iiames applied t<f tb^'an^tr|etat n^*
mals, far from hieing vague and tn^meanihg, Wet^ bf%iiHiRy Mit^f
significant, Griihm proee^ds to^^iHfy th^ sev^.bU^^e^ lt^<>
whifch Hie«re epithets Were cUpdble of beittg diVia^d,'Wid ft^to
Aiake tho^e o&ervations on the name of ihe fdk/ii^WiA ti^ Are
piisHage to wMch we brve alluded. ' '" *" '

'^ Renartf liemiartt in it-s earlier form Reginhart^ ^tiH cariier /fi^"-
noJiardy Hagnohardy is a proper name of frequent occorr^hce'ln'dociriDepts
of the 7iih, Sill, and 9th centuries, the meaning of 'wh]i6Bli^¥6fllg'Cva$e<f
to be thoroughly midcrstbod. Smiiragd, ^ Benedlttln^ tiidrik .HPlS>fiWfne,
Who; «b(M -6)0; ofstUl «^i^r, com fretted A Dboati^ ^h 7^ ha#4i«&««r
hee& pnni^V^ tx\Mti¥ /^W^Aa^f^trr^kiitkiaM' toMilhinlj''»^OiMCttNlf
MkiBg rmn iot^knini^ (purosi tritadot).- Bttt Innv^did^ieltdttii^^by ^con*
siliinm* whid) qio inuo wi$ee»i9ti4iN&ar/';.'ia.U. tlii)ongh:.'(raiilpo^aD
in rdt f has he a)iifouu<k4 !9^iih it the sor|iieiv}i^rQ ac<|iiir«(V prOfW 'PBi<^^'

^^..v...«..«- UV..1-.-.. *T,„.,^ .,^, -.wr. *,w,*.. .., w-.^ ^.. the wcr qmlccis
the word began to disappear and io exist otdy iA cdmblnatTonfJ IHT>liabiy
tbe {iVankish has preserved it longer, for the well' ktibyinrt*mgftWfrTiJrWifrc
«^he beforetbe tWbunhlgtting eonnsel, theii()vift(ng;ib<^ dMdfng ; Uti^
Stexdti rd^cfte^tf IT, FHsiun /ftf-^tf (Rights AliatlSiiiWr/774i 797); ^
writitig f)f thcL^ie SiU«racm« r<zeiUfi'(atid before ii/]raoilfan)t t« of •Hvowv-
liB^atocqb beeaussiifor exaraple, kKina.in written tbck'e;,fQr Ui^mf^uiTtiih
JRtijftnhardh f^aperi -h c^m/|/a^vi9^,.and we h^vi^^JNeforfl |«ieq<:ilM>
<rbr(^gbQi^t all thf^^ fabler tl>e fo^ was actu^ily t^jadvij«v.;|WfWf9{»"

!he ]^renchj7pem seems, to exhibit a jknowledge of th^ Ufi^ pt^li^
irom fQllo>viiig do^ety it&^(;if5pniprchcn<led oripnal 89urci|» ,.;,,! ,,^j,! ,

:•.■•■. .....; . rSiiAi<«iaiiilf6(ii(. c#im/ done," .■« , . irr .'*i'j;n ns:i*

I. . ' . . . 4?ar.pKjfl'di»|rw)naiinoo.Renai|,V-^K^ i, .

•'^■^ bareonieh/igoiKlcoikse^ gWot^ iby^niy. rigilitaanKJl^«iii9i|lai
.Aelobafltti./ Fronttbls ji( Is cl^ ibat/|l^ name.of {(i^iiiban^. ji> y^
SfM^ w^»,S^^aQi^4^\c <W, and tbftt^.was:qv|g}a^lly.fppl^4jtoA»^P

fpx 90 t^B( accouf^t,. It 13 tber^ore not tp be.w^mered; J^^^t j^ $q
po^trivi^d n{(me of an animal be.came firmly rooted in th^ l^rapKifji tongue,
that it could even' supplant the "French appejlattte/goupfl/ ana from

Renari at ikst become rcndrd. But what appears if)cre tni()drt)i0tf; tbe
flm appUe^tlcm, or finding df Hie haihe, must W triced 'up '^ i'jt^
at wbicb the sense of ibe word tiigin was genetaHypei^c^ibte; edttst-

'»I(l

Bie^^mdlAe for.' • > . f- ir QS3

qoentijr €mr £Mo9.(iTikifi^ty g» back. far btfjr^ad' the tvieKUi.cctiiMfy.i
1 venMure. to msUitAiiii tbaCttbiS'SAintf aWnejiistifies, tbefuppa«iUpf)-h-»
tbat;tU9 Fable&of the Fok 9^ ih^tWo^f w^p^ Ipowo tp tl^^ f;rai^,|li,
the fai|rtb| fifth au<t sb^th c^pturi^« when they U3e4 th^ yot i^^c^ljqml,
Germaa tongue, dulled by 00 inBux of tlie Gaulish languagej-th/ii they
took the fables with them from Germany across the Rhine/* — IntroauC'
tton, pp. ecxl— >ccxlu.

The naiit quc^tioji^ fqr our examiD^tion is ^hejpcaljty^.ifl^iwfii^
the I^eo^rdinf; fsibiea fiow pos^sea^ed by.u? tqok,.th>eu:.fi;ie. ^Tl?fft
will i)ot ti|)(.iQ ^Jonj^yfor tibe grpun^, .pn which .^hW ,ijpfiiijg^ la, 1^19,^
¥(i4flj[,3pi:efcf^Aor. indeed sfegulH WQ.ljaxe^Uijidi^d^^t tl^a,.p]^Qe
lOi vUw 4q(»l PWH* *^*>?i ^J>^ we,wfiice.^gu8 t9^:all ^.u^tfpff^jt^
the ^tr^ordip^y f^^t^ Un^t tbi^ peqidi^r cyc^l^ gf . pi^M}Ar{P99^;(
should nave acquired its populfu-.^pcl long ,^pdiiring,)fqr^>^^n
thoa^ very regions in which that branch of the painter's art wnicli
may be pronounced of a cognate nature whh the Wor)^^ .(uider
consi^er^^Uon^-we meaui of course, cattle ai^ I^QxJs^ajpe paiptji^
-^ha^.bp^n cwljUvateiwitli fond p^rsev.ejiiac,^ .?ind.ij>i:€;-^Wi!W^|
^iACf^B^,: Fo«^ 14 ,h in Flandq-a* .and Ithq '^^^njtrj^ ^o^f^di^fliaF
a^oiniogdto itr^llie north of Fraacetndthe Wi«9lQS» i)ft»t«>«f G^
manj-*^ that these poent&lKtve flouriahod'niiOsiiitiiuriantl|y>gaiifiM
ahatt t4k6 the^^pporttfnity of «lho<wifig wbenwebrtng theto varfohs
c6na|>(>lMffiond ontfcr tbetiOfice of =oUr re*<ler8i ' ' • • ' > ■>;.
T3eft>t% coillm^chig this divl^ioti of oMr iabdlii'8;'>^e\h^v«^
few preliminary remarks to mat^^oti the fjsLct ^f'the jlpiiy a
stranger, in 0:ur,days at least^ to the 'forests of th'e. European ^^011-
tinent^ appearing in these hisipries as tb^ ^cVnowledg$M^,]^W^]^)f
blasts. VVe bad tlipwgbt, ojf. nphcjng thp- peijMli^r fi^m^wiwi jthe
fox and, tb^.^olfi' formerly tb^ ma0t popnlpHsi deiiiaapasA oiAiv
covertBj'for the parta which they are called- upon, to* perform.
Wd pass tbi^ bj, however^ that we niay examine' 4ke«' pfob|fafe
^Mseof the Kon's beitig inveeited with regal ^aiithoricy;}'!^
tA^Vtii^tanee would seem, »t onc^, to cotttradifetthti'OwMttiy/^iir
indeed' Enrope^n origirt <rf the fiBbre!' Btit;, stttlng'^/Jidi ott-
knowledge that lions w^re fbrtnerly brought into E{ir6p4 iVbtii
their native wilds, to be- exhibited' as iMpovtant^features m royal
and princely |^ageah(*-^iha% proof itfihek'tbeliig'nfadigenous to Eu-
nice m^htbemhfti€edfrQii& diose peels who :teH< us that Birfrid
'was Wont to* Mnt liotis in the Bufffiindian fdre^ts^bbtk 'Wbiilh
'nrcninstances might be coAsidered'sufflciefttly'e)iplmmttf|^ tyt'iWe
motives which induced the w'ritcrt trf these feWe^ to invest tWe
'tiou with sovereignty over alt tb^ bther ailVti^ats whb* figure jn
Uiese narratives ; another and mpre satisfactory , explanation ^is
afforded by the fact, that there is good reaspa fpr b^ie^JAgi-t^at
the lion has, in comparatively modern, iimes,^ usurped the qrpwn

994 MeoD, ChaJwH^ Mau^ ^IM^ Grimin.

wbi^b the bear origiaatty fiOMesa^dj both 4iJMf<M^4$^^^ .iCbe
bear ia> indccdy tbe iitfioagefti «od tbe Urgecftof.All our ii»4igWM«
sHiiauib — the true king of our Europoin foraataf aDd.prwoB^
after showing tbat^ in the old Germao langusigei th# loaring of tb«
lion and Uie growling of the bear werq both eKpreta^. bf> one
and the same word, viz. Arem/n^-^and further ( which js yeqr re?
Qiarkable with regard to this point) that in the c4d Norse toqgiiet
the highest authority was expressed liy b$r9a /«^/f:(UG0nti%;ttria)»
adduces satisfactory evidence, the particulars of yihi^ Wfi abaii
not attempt to follow, that in Germaogr^ in the tenth oetuury, and
earlier, the kingly authority pver the beasts of the * JTorests was
considered to belongs not to the lion, but to the bear; who, in
the works now handed dolm to ua^ is atill exhtbttdl as second
only to the lion in po%iPer and influence ; alid the bear' is, in fnct,
next to the fox and the wolf, the moat imp^tanc personage in
these oft-totd tales.

But it is time that we proceed from thetse introductory mnd
general obaervations io a more particular eitaniination df* the
several literary productions, to which the popularity df'Reyhai^'a
history has gi^^en rise. The oldest ef these 'ill a iMxa-^p^mm^
noM' prints for the first time by Orinwii, from a* inaMua^fi|ia*4>f
the fourteenth century, presefted at Berlin. ** itengrittius,'** m
this poem is designated, contains 688 verses, and, thou^'of 'Odim^
derably leas extent than the Latin poem published. by Mone, It is
not only obviously of greater antiquity, but surpasses it inJthe
power of description which it displays. It comprises, hdWenrery
only two stories — the first is, '' 1 be Sickness of the Don -^ 'and
the second, which is very skilfully combined with it, relates ^''Tbo
Pilgrimage of the Goat/' It commences as follows :

" It whilom chanced so sick the lion lay, ,

He could nor steep by ntght, nor feed by day;
A die, of life or death, the fate did bear,
And hope fast faded 'fore increasing fearj
The season too, his ills to itjcrease strove,
For Phcsbas then thnsagh fiery Cracor drove."* . , .

He had been removed, for the sake bf coolness, to tht^shMy
coverts of the wood, and ordered a general court, pr<(^Mttied*ti
solemn peace, and summoned before him alt the beaatif of 'ftic
forest, that he might secure their allegiance to his wife and

* " Contifflt •rteptam forti liuijaore ieonem.

Nil aorroire, nidhil mfroere pone cibw
AUsk JuditlwM f ite mortitciiM if ahabst,

£t tpc liberiar M^rmt Mte dieUit ;
Qttin morbi rtbiem son tenipcttalii alebut.

Cam tnberet Cancri Phebos fat aroe sBltm.*' v. 1-^6.

Reyimrd the iW« ^5

cbUdreiii and durkig kis tifetime nominate Ms successor. Rey-
tmrd iti the onlj one who absents himself: he waits for a special
stiaitnons. Isengrini> the wolf, his inveterate enemy, who n
greatly rejoiced at this, thrusts himself ostentatiously forward,
and, having attracted the attention of the lion, slanders the fox,
aad teHs the royal invalid that it would much conduce to Us
recovery to eat the lifers of the ram and of the ^oat^ and, when
cofiinileseent> their flesh. But the manner in which this is told
deserves ati extract :

** EvcQ the lion smiled^ as thus he said,

(While bis lifirsb v«Hce filled every beiist with dread)
'< Good Isengrita, near me a seat secure,
I think tboa wooldet rekte what would nie cure.
If so^ out with it !' Straight the wolf ofaeycb

. Siti^ slightly bemsj bis pulse th^n feels^ and says

' Fear not, great king. Sound health tvill soon be thine,

. To pay ^qh traitor off in his own coin.* **•

But to proceed: Jpseph, the ram, and Berfridus, the ^oat,
who had listened with great indignation to the suggestions ot the
wolf» give him such bints with the points of their horns, as are
nol.to be mistaken^ that he mast leave the throne, and take his
place among t^ecats^ for^ that* bis knowledge of medicine was
nothing worth :

^ * Scis nkhfl, Isengrlme t Rige hioc/ ait oinnis» ' abite^' "

,Gustl|ero^ the hare, is then despatched with a summons to the
fox,, who is called upon to display his skill in leech-craft ; he is,
hovvevcr desired bv Reynard, to return forthwith to court, and
say he could not find him. He accordingly does so, and is^ after
a while followed by Heynard, who appears laden with a quantity of
healing herbs, which he had previously collected, and a number
of old worn out shoes. The lion making no reply to his thrice
proffered salutation,

" * Pnlcra,* ait, ' hie merces pro pietate datura* '*

and then, in aiwwer to the qaeatioos of his sovereign^ he explains
dia^upon the announcement of the lion's illness, instead of merely
presenting himself at court, as all the other nobles of the land
had done, ho had taken a wearisome journey to Salerno, to find

'" I l-^— — ^»»i^i^— I «»■ .-III! PI I «■ ■■■! .1 — ^^i_^_^^— ^^— i^^B^

* " Ipse parom ridet Leo, ticque prufatar : cratqae
Vocis ad horroreni concio tota tremens.
' Ysengrime oomes, prope me seirarus adisti : *
Credit voferre pftras Wuod mMu prcttet «pem.
Esere si qoid ImI^s.' PMph» sedei illff) pmnque

Tussii, et at vcftiain p«l|>it«t| inquU iu»
* Foae iint«D, ras, poamt V«i«»> y\fW^ faiafsa :
Beddc suaoi fidei perfidieqoe TicciD.' " ▼• 49 — 56.

996 Meon, Chafa#ij[l€^\^^f|fi)^^^d Grimm.

an incredible number of shoes — producing these in pro^l:!^!^!^

accuracy of his statement. He iben K9^i?u?^< ^^,i^^]f^^^^^ ^^

one thing further is required to jensure uU iiQSereigpvp recofvoiy,

which is that, when be takes tlie.pie^kioeji 1^. ^M^t j^omote co*

pious perspiration by envelopiiig^ hiiiii9e)f lA^b^J^lvk and grey

hide of a wolf three years and a half old^ and aufi^st^ that Iffo-

grim may lend hU for that' j)ui'|^bse;;ahrf^wK€ihtli«^ui^^^

it can be returned to hini. Iset^rini; bpoti' b^^WtHk ^v^^'^ekH%

etfeti his Escape; but, foemg pr^Ve^WA tVdin^'do^'/sai^^^aA^

he is an old wqlf, and not a joung one. Reynard .does nOlfiKmft'

tWis excuse; but broves;!fto'Ai-1fis^bfe?nJm^

oW\^hen a certain miit toblim^e^^Wld^^

dotith before-tliat he.5'3 fAst^'8P^the^^i«fitW^^^ ^t'^

goat, and the ram^aVe tblleB; at?<I\6Afe«^^

statement^ \vho however decides' at la'^t'thafSjiy wolf 5'J*fe*,"fe

it young or old, wiU answer t!ie piirb'os^l ''™ i}oV>i^«i"^-^^»^^-

cdHimands the bea> to flay th'e woff; wKK*^e''a8w^^

ofF'with histdnic nfiit 't\ic FriiiMmon)!-^''^^^^^^

... '• Ut tu^^ixn, I rftpcsfIf^j^s8r<VK8?j -^Hj t. . .,«o fiilm.r
but les^fing.tb^ shnggiy •QQijerip^ oibliU^iiitadiaiidfi^wavitrtnjioiiqi^

. I]lu&.qirci^si|ine4i;afiiweU.fi9<4K?.imlrtq^^ hUjI^kihibq^iiM^
gives ,ris04Q; iwpj^ bitter if^^Ajsnuh st9iiUiiii^g^9idisk^;il(^ia
not ^lyi^ay^.M^ttriQg.iiis |;By.r0d.flr^»9Hatf:c»Mt, iibtwdioCfflbfri^id.
grey wolf s^n whiiQb h^ w0s^7Mf:u«tbmf d Mioff^^ bil^^iiid wb«n'
the poor beast.§tr^hf^:fpr(li:HJ9j(|lllirii!bnl bj^[h^iiM4 Ifait
his implacable antagonist may tear away the- 9killj &t9ili^ j|iu^»^
Reynard upbraids him.j that it became a suppliant to appear bare-
headed and with nsfked httndsf|and'nbt*^*itff his head covered and
with gloves, astif he wexe insolentjiy 8<i^i(]i[ Jt);<]b^^i|g^iiw^^
reign to a combat, ^t hsngxh tba \yol|, is alio w^ it^ «^ipe; iv^
the upder^fapding that his i km wilt 1^ t^fce^r pSTfi ^'for ;fcuffi, j^H;
he thipks propter tgi rei^Ui^i,^. Tbe/lu^n, tb(iq'tak^.t|^ilQe<^^^^
cine, pr.^scrib«d l^y.lbejbvfipd.^iiwoiices ji^^ .i^Ilt^ Wt#'4/
nwer— . ..... . vi-.,.,'..,. -r r.. ;t.i - «■; ni :j»»jo»-nJ liqtxoi-

... V. A copious swiji^l tbq f^ver jtmghjt, fi^^^jj,,,, b mii}>iv< I

R]dif^^''^Ht«dlhd'\rtJii^i^ lioti felit uhdefrto Iris

• «**Jfhekitigaii(i6nom' to the fox ordained,
- ' • ' ^fVibbf •fore or since no other beast obtained,
-.>}!« •'•' ftfiif^s t^ cvets^tiie tnark^ bis tftH did ietive,
- > '-^ ' '• lite bear sAd bmiriMi gnitil like ibis ttceive;"*

t)iiri]ng. the king^s progress towards convalescence he is enter-
iVnWjf byJUte' fos hi relating to hJm th(? particulars of that ad*

n^sifHqs .I^^S^W|^^^ tlie, rapi« and. Berfi:id.the goat, beung

fufhiJ9pjp^c^^itI)L h^^ the van-guard. . Hevnard is tb^

^^^fJ'tf^^^^^in^^ thejauitor, q^nd carrier of the baggage;

WiptlW at nliVtvrand Sprotiiius ^he

cbcKTH tneiinie-keeper^.j -(in q\^ .^^IC ^vho was lur^^Uig clj^se hy,
had overheard the treaty^ and determined* as he was very anxious to
make one of the pai'ty, to^^eepiii attldngst tfaem on the very first
opportunity^ 'iiieyiiird^'^Mid hott%V«v spied hiin out/atidTsiid hrs
plibBfiicco^ilMl^y;^ ¥or, hMtig'fctmd a* ddad ttt)lf hunging apon
a tr|livhd'diit'<0fe:ta8 'h^ad' ^M gkvb it Wibseph, with sptfci^l
dihedibni ham'* Im .^M^ad ael,- ihduld' Aer wolf intmde among
theriy« niiighti af^|^clled^ tha'ai^ven^rsMBeateU themselves t6
tbeil Availing' binri. ' Inhitun^iety fof his sapper the Ms neglects

• ,!r. !;). -; fi .,r.wlnttm.fiH-or:vrget.(edeo^r-:^ .. ..

aiMl^eh^rfdor * bufits in upon them exclaiming, ''Peace be >^nth
y<mf * The? party are at first greatly af^med, but soon recover
ilicftfedlVA/' BertlKana imjuh^d;*' What' 'shall #e |ilace before
otti"gue*l^?''^»Thei^e i* nOtWng %dt'the gfeyhead of ah old
y9i^:^'i^^\i^'^t^:''^lMtt^avd^ then,"' said the* fox.
Joseph brought in the head accordingly, at the sight of which
Isengrim clapped hi^'tatl^'b^tMreeri' hiMt^g^/ahdivislied himself
far enough Hwa^. /'•'Tins-:head \vo^^^ " take

it away, and bnng a larger one i"^ Jfpsej^h ^vent out ^i^d brought
the same again. " That won't do either,** said Reynard; "the
large beads are in the other corner. Fetch in two of the seven

ttlfftit -i^»t*ti4\» mrt^ii .-1 1 titi iiiiiiiii imniii I

* "Precipuo vulpcn Ytetiardnm dbnat Konore, , ^^
Oueiu nemo racniit posies, nemo prias,
IntMpidiini tr«rti1r« sot vtstlgla eaoae. ' '
Nod boc contigeruit artni operqne dccut."--!. 516—520.

998 MeoDy ChabaiUe, Mmie,Mnd Grimm.

▼ery bfg'OncB ; or» stop* bring thai fine one that AmmgbdbniAmifiea
with the hvaeUtmgt that is just fit for eating.**- Joeepli' «ittit «■!
and brought in the same again, but with ita ja«ra tlmck open vith
a bit of wood* The wolf trenbled violently* and the aeveral aoi-
mals pretended to comlbrt hm« Oerardua the goose thooght he
was suffering from agn^, or periwpa from fear of himaelf. ** Be
of ^ood cheer," said the goose, '* 1 have no wish to terrify joa;
not but what 1 could if I wished, for the wolf whose head you set
there^ and which I snapped off, was a great deal stronger and
more canning than you are."'—'' Our gue^ had better eat,^ cried
Joseph, ** he need not care for the expense, we have^enough for
Ibis nine or ten nights, if he will only stay with U8/'^*-«'<T aw veiy
iU/' said the wolf, '' and what is more, very mnch astobkhed, for
whoever saw a party of pilgrims carrying with them so nany
wolves' heads?'* — ^* We never catch any but wicked wolves," said
Reynard ; ** we never meddle with our dear guests/'^ — ^' I am
expected at home/' continued the wolf, ** my wife and chfldrsa
are waiting for me."--*'* Won't you go with us ?" the stag cried oat
after him; ** on our way we lay hold of all the wolves we find io
the forest, and either hang them up in the trees, or starve them
to death. You shall help us and be the hangman I" — '** I am too
young for so great an honour, I am only two years and a half
old," replied the wolf, and so saying be took bis departure.

'' Ille refert, ' decus hoc mea non sibi vendicat etas
Dimidians lustrum,' sicque sdatus abit."

Such are the contents of '^ Isengrimus,'' a poem written, as is
evident from various circumstances, in South Flanders, during the
first half of the twelfth century, pnobaUy earlier, for the '' Reiiiar-
dus," which is certainly not so old, was composed about the
middle of that century. And this affords additional proof, if
such were necessary, that the Reynardine fables were in general
circulation during the whole of the eleventh century; for we may
be sure that, when an ecclesiastic (and tliat this vrork was die
production of a writer of that class is obvious from the traces of
classical learning which it exhibits) took it into his head to relate
in Latin verse detached stories selected fit)m a whole crycio ef
rdmaace, that c^Ie was one which bad long bee^ cerrebt in the
songs and traditions of the people.

'The poem which we have just examined forms a portiolt, or
rather is engrafted in that more extensive work contamhig 6S96
lines, the 'rabella Lupina,' as it is designated in one of the
three manuscripts from which it was printed, which was published
some years since by Mone, under the title of" Heiuardus Vulpes."
This puUication, the third in the list prefixed to this article, has

Rmfutai^ thi F%T. 99D

3Biafy<beeii'Q£ ootitidarabiD Mi!fi«t» ai ibefXMfn in quMtion n
oiibledly ooe of the most viluaUe mottumenU of the litem*
tare milhtk fliidcUeagBs iRfhidi htiro of l«be- btea giveit to ihe
wocld;- 'Mid k etnnbls .but axeite 4nir surprifle that &^ eiteadve
aad ' highly ioteresting a work aboiild baire. i^cmaitied fl«r iong
entirely ttiikiiowii# and iodeed not bave be^a publisbed: tiU ottr
Qiwn time i a fact which can only be explained by the suppositioii
that . die olcrgy^ t^ whom some parta of it most caHaiiily have
b0ei> peculiady diapleaaiog^ took every meani in ftheir power- to
Buppreat it Whiie we thank the editiOf for tho nubUcalion of
the Awl^ MTO cannet bitieifipresa^ttr regret Ibat^ in his notes to it»
he akcMuld have thought bt to iadulgd in ao manyfaacifui and
unfottotied ?iew)9> apt only with regaitl. !» the agi^of the poea^
wiucfa be aaserta without a shadow of evidence to have been
oiigiivaHf emapqaed ia the ninth oeDtnry, and aftorwaids iatar^
poialed by a more modern huad in the twetftb ; and to oonlain
asder.lheaemblanqeof a romance an allegorical history of the
afiairs aotl qiiairels of various weiKknown peraonaaea ; among
ubdm he anppoeea Zweotiboleiii8| who wa$ Kmg of £orratne> and
aonof the Emperor Amulf, and wbo flourished towards the cloae
of the ninth centuryi to be represented by Isengrimus the Woll,
sad bis minisler, Reginwius* by that of Reinardut the Fos.

Befoio we analyse the poem it will» therefore^ be as well to

demolish, as we trust to do with a very few words, these **griilei^

fangereyen^ (as bis countrymen very characteristically designate

sucn whimsical speculations) of Professor Mone> whose peculiar

notions <m . the subject of thp poem genemlly were first made

known in a series of papera in the " Morgenldati" for 1631 (No.

WA-*^), to which the purchaser of the book is very coolly referred*

if» as ia most likely^ not being eooteoted with the opinions set

fertk in the Professor's notes to the poem« he wishes to learn

(wlnoh be ought to do from the preface) the Editor's detailed

opinion nf the work in question. But let us prooeedi In the

first plact^ there is not the slightest ground for atlributiog any

pari «f the poem to a writer of the ninth century. Portbns of it

mrtaialyiaptpear to be in a somewhat earlier style, but there b

Aothini^ in them to justify in the least the suppo«itioii> of their

bfaiag tke I produetioQ of that eariy period. Reioasdua is •k-

viously not a piece of pure invention; the H^yio in 'which it is

Klated^ and the often times uncaUed-for instances of boob-learning

vbiehia eabibits^are the author's^ own* But he himself rtfiBrB

• to some written a«4hority i-^

^* Gavisam sctiptura refert his lasibus illam,*' v. 1879.

This seripiura was probably some earlier and mora simple

300 Meou, CluibaiUe» Mo^e,- and Grimm.

LatiQ.hiote>r3f»^ wbifih» ifit GOiitMiied:fiU die nati^iidr of thB!|Me-
sent poem, (whioh it moat prababiy did, ibe laengrinait foouag
perhaps a portMi only ol some mora e^antivM^ wofk^ the rest <?
whieli is lost,) tliat fact oiuat tead greatly ttfldiouniab tbavakie of tLti-
Aiardus iaouffopinioBv ' Iti».paa8iUeyfaoiirever»tiMMig^iiiiichlaH
, probabk» thatati eailier potm m the vamaimlar tongue^, aadcunaot
among the common people, formed the basis of the pnrnr^i: umi
. Thnivas written between the years J 148 and llfiQ^iaa.ia/verj
.clearly proved fa^i the autfaor'a apostrophising, (book ifi., liae
1501—^84) twoiecciesiastics who weie personally fricmilj to biai.
These' urem Walter^ prior of Egmoad, and Baidvriii, prioj^of
,:Iiisbam«in Woitpfaalia. Walter was a natiire of Flanders^ in the
Urear 1 ld9 he was at the head of aft ecclesiastical ealabiisbwieiit at
Ijeos ttivArtoiSy attached to the Abbey. of Ghent. , In :that ]pnr
the bishop of Utrecht and the Countess of Holland wisJbed to
•nominate some worthy ecclesiastic from Ghent to die .Abbey of
Egasond ; Arnold, abbot of Ghent, vecomnAendtd Watoer^ wiio
was accordingly appointed and filled the situatioo frou. 1 ISO to
..il6l with tl^ bigbest credit. About the s^me. time. «a»4hrr
Benedictine, named Baldwin, was called from die same acbeol to
be abbot of the newly estaUished monastery at Lisbonu His
inauguration took place in 1 ISO, and he held the office until 1 161 ,
when be was succeeded by Franco. Fjiom this circunalaaoe,
and from the fact of the poem containing internal evidence of its
having been written in North Flaaders, we may reasonably coo-
clnde that its author was a countryman of Walter and Baldwin,
.that is (0 say a Fleming, and probably an ecclesiastic atlftched to
4be monastery of Saint Peter at Ghent. The writer* whoever he
might be, was undoubtedly a cberchman; this is shown not only
by his learning, all of which was at that time in the handa of the
Church, but also by the monkish spirit which pervades the third
: fable of the third book. The fact of his indulging in bitter de-
rision upon the downfall of the Church, and sparing neither the
supreme head of it, nor St Bernard, whose fame then echoed
'throughout Europe, does not at all militate against this opinion;
for, at the period when he wrote, the divided state of parties wotUd
Ailly account for sach an act. The writer, whether monk or
layman, was, however, no fireethinking ^cavner, but a aaao'«riM>
honoured ifae cfcrgy when their conduct justified bias in d(Nag«so»
as his praise of Walter and Baldwin sufficiently attest ;«-*his calling
'them his friends and confidants afforAng additional aiadenoe of his
«oiineaion with the Church. If to this we add that he waspro-

* FiobaUj tlie older LaUn ppcoi, of which we Imve been informed Dr. Jacob Grimm
diKovered two maniucripts in the library at Brutseli, mibscqaeDtljr to tbc publicmtion
of his admirabie TolQiae.

Reynfierdintfbt.' 301

tably a B)&nediotHie» ri«td?jotys6rvftnt df life ancient rttles^iof'tlie
<M^r; and as such one; t6 whotti <be ra)>idiy extending innoviAidn?
' of the Ckrterciatr mottka' couM ncrt* birt hehi^y objeotiottaMe,
Mfc ^tbMMnt oppoaftfon to Samt Bei^nardy who was tb^ iMtod of
tUd' Giatemana, and to tlic Grmadvs, lo tbe^promodon of ^Miidi
dmt diaifngttisbed prelate bad lent aii hisiriflcience^ is tbcti^iily
BC<fD«iHed'(br. * m.

We think we have now proved verjaBtiafactorily thai Reiiiardua
is* a production of the twelfth centnry. Having done'. ao» it
Be^ma abaoata Urork of supererbgatbn to overthrow the theoi*y
recently 'arirane^d by Mone^ of its containing ' an* all^oiidal
v^raion of the history of Zwentiboid^ forth^ idaar43f>coniipb9iiig
-a Mfotk of such a nature would hardty- n^gesl -itself 'tbfde 'cen-
turiaa After those events had occurrM which u^ece to fohnthe sub^
jeb^raaftterof the allegory. Eocard was tbe first to broadi the
theory of the historical arigin of Reynard's stoiiyin'hia prefaoe
to Leibnitz's Gollectnn. Etymol., and he Muagined isangrioHm to
represtenC a: cevtaki Bavarian count, ttamedt iftmnoaray who «t'H
' admawhat'lfatep' period opposed tbe Emperor ArBiiAf, iti Bavarila»
Au8lri»9 and Mofaviaj * • UnCorlOBately for Eocaad'a case/ althmi^h
in the fable the wolf >imd' the fox are cdmtiuuaUy coming in nbnti^t
one with the other, history not only does not afi'ord a aiB|^' in-
aaanoe of Regkiarius and Isanricue -bebig connected: in the
alighteet degree ;- but, which. i» atiU twohse^ lays the aoenea of
their adveaturea in widely dofferent phces. JMone* in editing
Reinardus, adopts Eccapd*s theory with certain anieiidnieiits^.anch
as making King ZwentiboM the. original of the wolf, ios|ead:of
tlie abo^ve-mentioned; Isaaricus; and seeing, in the name of 4be
l«Mij KufanuS) an atlagiamof that of King AreuJf {/imnfits\*
and inaiiy> other things equaUy curious and* equally imperceptible
tocommon-^aoe people like, ourselves, wbd do not pretend ao
be able to see further into a miltstooe thaa our neighbours* Bitt
history treaty the editor of " Reinacdijis" as scuNiiy aa it bad
before treated the editor of Leibnitz. It demolishes his lueely
balanced theory. Its records prove the characters of Zweatibold
and Regioarius to have borne no resemblance to thos^ which the
wolf and the fox exhibit in the poem; and^ what alone as ctaite
sufficient to decide the question against Moiie« nepreseiiit Regi-
narkis as tbe subject of Zwentibold^ ivhereas, in '* Reinardus/'
the fox Is ever free and independent of tbe wolf* •

Rut it. istibie to give:^4Mi!r rdadc^ra >i>me.^(iot^ of; the! poem
which baa called forth these remark^.^ . It is'diarid^d. into four

* " At some future time" says GHmm, " a mroch bHter aHaftram nuiy satisfy tbe
world that Meon, tlie editor of tfie ' Renard/ and Mum; tfteedttof of the * Reinar-
dus,* were identically one and the same person."

VOL. XVII. NO. XXXIV. Y

302 Meon^ Chabaille, Mone, and Grimm. '

books ; and, from the manner in which it opeot, iseftgrioiiis be*
ing named without any explanation on the part of the autbor
that the wolf is thereby intended, and na reason being given for
bestowing the epithet of Reynard upon the foxj it ia obviously
either the continuation of some other poem, or a new branch of
one, wbicb was, at the time when this was written* already pofNi-
lar. It commences as follows : —

*' At early dawn, ooe 8iimnier*8 raoniy as Isengrimos hied

Unto th^ wood in search of foo^, Reioardus be espied ;

AY ho thither broujgbt hf selfsame thought, by which the wolf bad been,

flad hoped that he the wolf did see, before himself was seen.

But finding straight, although too late, be was in piteous case^

Cut off from flight, the cunning wigbt put on a good bold face ',

And willingly, so feigned he, he was the £rst to speak —

' Ob OQick be thine, dear uncle mine, the prey which now you seek.'

Re called him so, but well did know that uncle he was none.

Thinking wolf must repose his trust upon a brother's son.

* Rejoice, thy prayer is heard i swear, quoth Isengrimus grave,

^ The present hour puts in my power the food for which I emv« :

'. Thou pray'dst that I might quick descry some fitting prey for n» ;

' Food to my mind in thee I find, so thou thai prey sbali be** "*

Reynard objects to travel after the fashion of the propbet,
(Jonas,) that is to say^tn the bowels of bis uncle, and while
they are arguing the pcMnt, which they do a€ considerable length,
a peasant goes along carrying a bam. Reynard makes bis oode
a proposal that they should rob him ; bis uncle agrees to do ao ;
and accordingly Reynard approaches the peasanti feigns lame-
ness, and allows himself to be hunted by tne conntryman, virho,
that he may the more readily make him his prize, throws down
the bam. This is speedily snapped up by Isengrim, who bad
been on the look«out for it, and carried off to the forest;
where the wolf is soon after joined by Reynard, who demands
his share of the prize, whereupon Isengrim gives him the string

by which the ham had been carried.

" ' ' ' ■ ■■ I ■ ■ ... II » —

* ** £g;redient »iWam mane Isengrinins ut eacam

Jejuins iiatis qaereret atque sibi,
Cemit ob obliqao Reioarduni eurrere vulpcm,

Qui simili studio ductus agebat iter ;
Pracvisosque lupo, non ▼iderat ante videntcm,

Qaaiu niinis admoto perdidit hotte fiigam.
lile, ubi cassa fuga est, ruit in discrimina casus,

Nil melius credens» qiiani simulare (idem.
Jamque, salotator veluti spontaneos, infit :

' Cootingat patruo praeda cupita meo.'
(Dioebat patraum falso Reinardus, ut ille

Taoquam cogiiato crederet usque suo.)
' Contigii/ Jsengrinius air, ' laeurc petissc,

Opportuna tuas obtulit bora preces ;
Ut quaesita mihi contingat praeda petisti,

Contigit in praedam te exigo, tuque daris.* '* — line 1 — 16.

Reynard the Fox, 303

Rtiynard afterward induces Isengrim to accompany him to a
store pond, where he assures him he will be able to catch lots of
fish. Reynard tells him if he dips his tail in the water, and
allows it to hang there a sufficient time, he will be rewarded by an
ample prey ^ and, advising him to catch only eels and perch, and
not to bother himself about the larger fish, leaves him and robs
the priest's hen-roost of a cock. The priest upon being madt
acquainted with the robbery leaves off saying masB, and, mccom*
panied by his congppegatioiii who arm themselves with the crucifix,
candlesticks, &c., gives chase to the fox. Reynard, finding the
pursuit growing hot, betakes himself to the spot where the wolf
is kept prisoner by liis. tail being frozen fast in the ice. Reynard
advises him to escape, and leaves him to the tender mercies of
the priest and his companions. They fall upon him, tooth and
nail, with the sacred weapons which they bad seized^ . Amongst
the most active is- Andrada, the priest's wife, who, ii^tendipg to
kill Isengrim,. aims a violent blow at bim with a hAtcbel. , £y
great good luck however the blow only cuts off part nf- his tail,
so that be is thereby enabled to escape and reach the forest,
where he vows to be bitterly revenged upon Reynard,

The fox soon after joins him, and endeavours to conviuoe his
imele that his loss is really a gain ; but offers, by way of. making ^
amends for hia supposed ill conduct, to point out to bim four
films whom be may readily capture* IsengrimtacGordinf^y/gpes
to them, and demands from them the tribute of hides and, wop I,
which their fathers had beoi accustomed to pay. kim^ . Tbey
deny his right to such tribute, and form an effectual plan of re«-
aiatanoe, for they all four attack. him at once from the different
aides of the field, in the middle of which he happens to be
standing, and he falls to. the ground half killed by the blows
given him by the very animals in anticipation of whose capture
he had exclaimed —

*' As knives cut butter, will my teeth their bones. *'^

The second book contains the history of the lion's falling sick ;
and includes the first, portion of the earlier ^' Isengrimus ;" the
conclusion of which poem, with sundry alterations and additions,
constitutes according to its present arrangement the third book
of ** Reinardus." That what is termed now the fourth book ought,
at all events, to be placed directly after the second, is shown from
its commencement, in which we .are told *' that, the court being
greatly rejoiced at the lion's restoration to health, the several
members return to their respective homes : and that on his way
through the forest Reynard encounters the wolf, who is still

* " Ut buiyrun ealter dcDlibut man ceco."«~Hr, 1464.

Y 2

S04 Meon, Chabaille, Mone,'and Grimm.

smarting under the loss of his skiu — an explanation which shows
very clearly that the third book, in which the wolf and the
fox repeatedly encounter each other without the slightest allu*
sion being made to this particular injury, is very improperly
thrust into the place which it now occupies. But to proceed.
Reynard, after a long discourse with Isengrim, persuades him to
wreak his vengeance upon the ram. The wolf agrees to do so,
and is accordingly conducted by Reynard to the spot where he
is feeding. The ram succeeds, however, in beating off hh
assailant, who is glad to escape with no worse treatment than a
hearty drubbing. When he is somewhat recovered fron^.tlie
wounds inflicted on thi9 occasion, Reynard determines to play
him another trick, and accordingly invites the lion, whom he
meets and who is desperately hungry, to visit Isengrim. The
lion does so, to Isengrim's great astonishment. The whole party
then proceed together to the forest, where thev have the good-
fortune to capture a young heifer, which Isengrim is commanded
by the lion to make a division of. In obedience to these direc-
tions he does so, and divides it into three equal portions — in-
tending one for the lion, one for himself, and one for the fox.
The king of beasts is, however, sore displeased with the wolf's
manner of sharing the spoil, and therefore calls upon the fos to
divide afresh. Reynard thereupon divides it into three shares,
certainly of equal size, but of very diflferent degrees of value.
The 6rst share contained the very choicest parts of the heifer,
and was in fact worth the other two pi|t together; the second
share a good deal of meat but no fat ;

"The third all bones, but little flesh wa? there*."
He then takes the feet of the heifer, adds one of them to each
of the three shares, and lays the fourth on one side. Being then
called upon by the lion to allot the several shares to the parties
for whom he intended them, he says — the first is for bis royal
master, the second for the lioness, and the third for the lion's
whelps. The lion inquires what is to be done with the fourth
foot. *' It is for me, or to be added to your majesty's share,"
replies the fox ; whereupon he is graciously permitted to retain it,
as a reward for the skill which he has displayed in effecting so
equitable a division ; a skill which he professes, in reply to the
inquiries of the lion as to who had taught him to divide so well,
to have acquired from Isengrim.

"Me docuit .... patruus iste mcus.t"

* " Ettlossosa paruni tert'u cariiin habi^Rt.**— 4. v. <58.

f Mon^ say9 thut in fhii part of ihe poem thelioD no long«r represrnts the emperor
Ariiuli but his son Lewis of Germany, and that tlie divbioii of the heifer is iotriidcd

Reynard the Fox. 305

0}xt limitSi howeveri admonish us to bring our notice of this
poem to B close. We must therefore pdss over Isen^rim*s per*
jury, and the punishment which visited it, together with the piir>-
ticulars of his death, from an attack made on him by a herd of
9win€, and of his being partly devoured by the old sow. One
short extract and we have done. Reynard is told that his uncle
Isengrim will never sin more : —

" No wicked schemes now form bis dreams^ bis mind no treasons fill.
He never more will, as of yore, do ought that's wrong or ill.
• Then sure he's dead/ sly Reynard said, * dear uncle art thoa gone V
Alas ! I*m here, oh uncle dear, thou in thy tomb alone !'**

, We. now come to the oldest High German poetn on the sub-
ject of Reynard. This unfortunately has not been handed down
tous in its earliest shape; while even the version which we tfo
possess is preserved in very faulty manuscripts. The first edition
of it appeared in 1817, and it is now printed by Grimm from ^
different manuscript, which has however been compared with the
j>rinted edition.

'^ Reinhart," the poem in queslioT^, contams no fewer thiin
^^66 lines ; in the course of which the author twice names him-
self Hieureich der Gfichesare according to the one MS. — Glichse"
nare according to the other. This last is not properly a family
name^ but rather to be considered a characteristic one, signifying
* a counterfeiter or feigner (from the old Oerm^tk gelichesen) and
corresponding with the modem German Oleissner, a dissembler.
Grimm^ and his opinion on matters connected with the early lite-
rature of his fatherland, has all the force of a law — concludes
from various circumstances that the author was a Suabian living
in German Switzerland, who floorrshed about the middle or rather
towshrdsthe latter half of the twelfth dentury. His work, how-

tm t t

io typify the pArtition of Lomiine* UnCorlanately for ihh statement, the story Is one

. of the cQBiiuoneat of middle age iables» We heve bow before us a MS. of the Utter

e}\d of the thirteenth centurjf, containing a collection of Latin stories for the use of the

monks, and which was assuredly compiled in Bnglaud, in which we find a similar story

itM te siiwTtly and s6 briefly as to jottify our adding it to this note.

, *' Leo> l«ipiis« et vulpes, venantes, ccx>eruAl viifam, ov^m. et aucaro ; et cum hors

ibiaset p^rtiendi, dixit Leo, 'Luppe (sic), partircpredam nostraro/ Lupus dixit, ' Quia

tu es rex noster et dominus, tu habebis vacani ; ego, quia mhior te &ed major vufpe,

llab^bo oven ; vulpes vefo habebit aacam/ Leo auiein hoc atdieiis, proteoso pede,

ptllem decaptte Inpt uoguibus ettrahit et caput totum fecetat cruentaluoi* Dixit

^Tulpi, ' Vulpes, nunc pnttire tu.' Dixit vulpes, * Domine, quia tu es dominus et rex tu

liaoebis vaccam; et doroina meoleona, uxor (oa, habebit ovem, et domini rod, poeri

tui, habeboDt aocam.' Cui leo — " Die nuhi vulpes, qeis te doooit sopientcr purlirl ?'

Ad qoens vulpes-^' Doinine, ute socius me us cum rubeo capite'— osteuso lupo."

_ _ • " 'Desiit esse roalus, mores projecit iniquos.

Nil sceleris faciet postmodo, nilque duli/
' Ergo obiit certe? proh, patroo dulcis, ohisti ?
Hcu, tomalwii siue me, pafrve care, tenes?' "— ir. 1073- -6.

306 Meon, ChabaiHe, Mone, ttnd Grimm.

ever^ has been handed down to us only in the shape into wliich
it iiFas fashioned by an unknown writer, who lived some fiify
years later than Heinrich ; in whose Tersioa we find that « con-
siderable number of verses have been suppressed, altered, and
introduced; but in which the cramping metrical laws of the
eider poet are preserved in a most remarkable manner. Hie
contents of Hemrich's poem contribute remarkiribly towards the
earlier history of these fables ; for it mast have been from the
French sources, ahhough not to be found in any of those now
known to exist, that he was enabled to mention, not only Salemo.
but the name of the physician of that place. Master Peudin or
Hendin is no imaginary person, but Magister Pontus, n Greek»
who is recorded as one of the first founders of the tcfaool. • On
the other hand, the elephant's being invested with Bohemia nMMt
have been the work of Htinrich der (ilick$enam himself, foritis
little likely such an incident should be mentioned by the French
authorities.

We shall not attempt to give an outline of the whole story con-
tained in the ** Reinhart */' but, as one of its peculiarities consists
in its being the only work which tells how the sickness of the
lion was occasioned, we purpose confining ourselves to that por-
tion of it ; and thereby completing that chapter of Reynard's
History, of which our notice of '^ Isengrimas" and ** Resnanlns"
have already furnished some particulars.

The lion proclaimed a general peace, bat, the ants having dck
fused to recognise him as their sovereign, he trod down their
hillocks, killing thousands of this tiny race and wounding as many.
The lord of the ants was absent when this outrage was committed,
but on his return vowed to take bitter vengeance for the injury
done to his people : —

** So spake their chief, then hunted round
After the lion, whom be found
Under the linden fast asleep.
Close to bim the ant did creep.
With an angry spirit fraughi ;
*■ Lord God of the Good/ he thought,

How shall I my serfs avenge !

♦ • ♦ • *

r ' After thinking many things.

Right into his ear he springs.^**

* " Sprach in hdrre, und hoop sich s& ze hnut
Nacb dem Lewen, biz daz er in vaiit
Under e'lner linden, dfi er slicf.
Dor amciae zuo iin lief
Mit ciiue crimruigen niiiole,
Er cc'lahtf ' hcrro got dcr guotc,

Heynard the Fox* 307

The pain whicli be caused the iion was so inteDse, and so little
capable of being relieved, that he looked upon it as a judgment
of heaTeu for neglecting his duties as a kins and judge. A court
is therefore sumiaoned, at which Isengnm complains against
Reynard, and the cock and hen bring in upon a bier the dead
body of thdr daughter, whom the fox had bitten to death ; at
which misdeed the king becomes so enraged that he frightens
the poor hare into a fever. The dead pullet is buried with all
filtang solemnity ; and the hare, having bid himself down to sleep
upon her grave, awakes quite recovered from his fever, which
"being looked upon as a miracle, the pullet is in consequence
pfronoonced a martyr.

Messengers are now sent to summon the fox to court; who,
however, regardless of their authority, plays them sundry scurvy
tricks. At last his friend the badger goes to him, and Reynard
thereupon promises to appear before the king. He does so, and
tells him he has brought him a remedy from Master Pendin, the
physician of Salerno, which he must take, then sweat himself in
the wolf's hide, and wear a bearskin, and a catskin hat. These
are speedily procured from Reynard's enemies. Reynard next
asks for focid, and names a fowl and a piece of boar's flesh. The
poor hen, Pinto, who had complained against him, is instantly
killed, and a steak is as quickly cut from the haunches of the
boar who had supported her cause. In the mean time, the king
Idces a bath, wraps himself in a wolf's hide, throws the bearskin
over him, and puts on. his catskin hat. The warmth of this last
draws out the ant, who creeps from the lion's bead into the fur.
The physician takes the hat, lets the sun shine upon it, and
thereby discovers the little animal which had occasioned all the
king's sufferings. He is violently incensed against the ant, who
at length obtains forgiveness by promising the fox dominion over
a thousand castles. Meanwhile, the king having recovered, Rey-
nard, who has already been revenged of his enemies, knavisbly
seeks to reward his friends, the elephant and tlie camel, with gifts
which carry vexation with them. The king, at Reynard's soli-
citation, gives the elephant Bohemia, where, however, he gets most
piteousiy maltreated. The camel receives a nunnery, but when
she goes to take possession of it, the nuns rise up with one accord
and beat her out of the place. At length Reynard gives the lion
poison, and then he and the badger beat a retreat. By the time
the fox had reached his castle in safety, the king had grown se-

Wie sol icli reclicn luittc diet ?'

• ••«*•

Kr liftic manrpen gedunc

Mil krafi eriu in das drc sprauc/'— •▼. 1291 - 1300.

3Q8 Meon, Chabaim, JAq»^^^ Grinim.

riowljrm.aud, caving tQ the dUlaof^-oC lh» «mflb*de8if©d ffcy*
sician, a fatal result was «*pectfrt- At length the poiso« •douii lu
M'oik, aud Lion \im king diedii^menled by all 4us 8ul9»t9, «#©
threaten vengeance agftiftft |be trailor R&yn^rd^

If the stpry of Reypftrci ImA ita. origin arodwg the.Gennmn^^as
itundoubtQdly bad; ainwg,«»tfiQm.it ba« nwnewferpresexTOcLas
popularity to this day, undiminished eitber bytlhd iiiftiioice'w
time or tbe qbangea of literary ta^Kte ; «till> if wcMonld ^emt out
the soil on which, during the twelfth aiidthirteee»lh.iieiituo«i,Jt
was 4no3t as&iduoaelj cultiv^ed^ and ttiost abundantly frbiuuli
we mu^t placi? ovu: .finger or th© north of Francej Iji>ik» Gor-
man French poems we find the ri^st vein* «»d pureat sireadis
of this dearly prized romance : in number^and entente althoogh
the oldest of them are not preserved, they far exqe^ all the other
works to which the story of the fox has. given rise. •

Meon, therefore, did good service to middle age . lrtera|»«^
when he published »*Le Kon^n de Renart;" aind M,. QitlwH^i
his successor, has added cousiderjibly 1o thi9 valu^ of .Meda*
publication^ by the supplementary volunie to. xbM work -w^Qh
be has given to the public. The " Roman du Renart" which
Meon has published contains no less than 30,362 lines ; and if
to these we add " Le Couronnemena Reuart," and *• Renart le
Nouvel," which are contained in the foinrtb volume of his col-
lection, this number will be increased to 4l>748. Our readers
will see, therefore, that any attempt to epitomize this work for
their amusement would be itotall^ incompatible . with tfae'Spdce
which we could apply to that purpose. Huy. inore> we jDonld
hardly hope to give them a satisfactory analysis of one of the
twenty-seven * Bn/Lnche9,' or diviaions, of wbida it coBuists. These
branches, it must be nnderstood, do no«y like the. several ad»en^
tures of the Rmiardu^, forffi one geoeri^ and perfect- >\vhok) ; ««
the contrary they aie frequently directly the opposite ^ eue
another, which is never the case with the . alorieaiiln the. Latin
poem. The wolf and his injuries form the naain action of this
last work ; while, on the contrary, in the French, poems, taken as
a body, the fox always appears, and that very jUstlv, as the chief
actor; although there is foequeatiy not only n6 connexion bc-
♦i^" Jlf. ^^'T"^* histories, but oftentimes positive conlradic-
w!\^ ^ object of the more recent writers appears to have
over M. S^P""^*?"^ ^^e other animals as obtaining the advantage
Sle woIR t' "Iu*^ t ^^^ ^' *® «^^^ ^'"^^ g^ts the upper hand of
Revrrd is on ^h'' u ^""^ *^ ^^^l^ '^ the only one by whom

rle^ the Lt li'f^ ^"' ^" ^ ^'"^^^^ ^<^^ ^ « so by the
raven, the cat, and the sparrow.

It 18 most hkely that the greater part of Uxese French stories,

Reynard tie Fi^x. ' '' SOQ

and, besides llicse^ mzmj oiliers sitmlar to tkeni, wer^ getieraffy
current among ihe common • people ; tAd ofily-requhr^ to be
adopted and put into rhyme by the poets.- Many that' wet^ ibr-^
iiierly id existence have been lost, such as tbe Story of the dhjf,
that of- the deatfa- of the- lien, and many others' which now exist
in othev iformfy bm not in the old French, 'from which theyarb'
knows to have been derived* > '|

Pierree- de St. Cioot is considered to be author of the oldest '
existing' branches of ^^LeRoaaan du Renart/' -He likewise '
wrote • l^e Testament d'Aiexandre, a part of the great romance
on the suiigect of Alexander, and flourished abont the beginning '
of the> tfainteenth ocsitary^ Pkrres, who- refers to a. book Z9 hi^'
autboril]y'fQr.what bereialea^^ < ' '•' <<

'< QaeseK Hvretnos ditvoir, ' ". "''

Ou jt trove I'dftoireescriie"— V. 493»— 9. . *'

avowa Manselfad the historian of Rieynard, both at the begin-
ning awd at' the etfd of the seventh Branch of Meon's collection ; ^
whieliitr certahfriy one of the earNest bdt not one of tbe best told
divimons of the work. The branch in question commences :— r ' '!

" Pierre who was born at St. Cloot, i /

Has taken pains and trouble too^
Prompted by his friends' intreaty, ^

In verse as best be may to greet ye
With a merry jest and wile
Of Renard, who is foil of guile." *

Whether Legrand d'Aussy and Raynouard have any grounds
for also attributing to him the first, second, and third Branches
appears extremely problematical, inasmuch as the aflair with
the cook related in the seventh Branch is told likewise, but in a
very inferior manner, in the third. That he was the author of
other portions of the work may reasonably be concluded from^'
a passage in a later writer,, who charges him with leaving out the
beat parts of his subject :—

** Perroz who pHed his wit and art
To tell hi verse tales of Renart,
And of Isengtim so si^m-—
The best part of his tale left out/'t

^ " Pierres qui de Saint Clost Tut uet,
8'eit unt tra««in)et et peott,
Vvt proiMve d« sfS anitt
Que il nos a en riooe.loU
Une risee et un gabet
Da Rehart, qui ta&t Mt <fkbet"— Y. 4851—6.

t^Ferras ^i ton engin el %*aH
Mist en Ten fere de Renait^
Et d'Ysencrim son diier coupere,
' Lessa le mies de sa tnatcrc." — v. 9649—60.

i*»**»"**"

^3I0 Meon^ ChabaiUe^ Moot, and Grimm.

From which it appears that we are certaialy acquainted with the
name of one of the least important audiors oF ^' Renard;" and
know nothing as to who was the author of the most reasarfcable
parts ; to say nothing of those oldest braaches which seem lo
have perished, or which at leafit have not yet be^ discovered.
The German Heinrich der GUoksenwre preceded Pierre by
twenty or thirty years at leasts and he eHudes to French poems
which must have appeared soon after (he middle of the eleventh
century ; in fact there is no doubt that, at the time when the
Latin works were written^ there existed compositioos in the
French language on the subjects of Reyuard and laengrim, the
loss of which is greatly to be lamented.* It ought to he sMlded
that two other writers of later date then Pierre avow themselves
authors of parts of these poems^— Robert de Lison aa the author
of the twenty-thirdy atid a ^^ Prestres de la Croix en Brie" of the
twentieth Branch.

But it is time to refer to what has been produced in FlanderSi
.on the subject of ottr hero« and in doing so we hajve a pleasant
doty to perform, inaamuch as we shall he inatrumenlal in awak-
ing public attention to a poet whose extvaqrdinary merits have
been hitherto, through the influence of fortuitous circuaiatanccs,
entirely overlooked ; the credit due to his skill and ahilUy having
been bestowed apon a later writer, ^bo was in faet little more
than a translator. We allude to the clever author of the Flemish
poem entitled, '^ Reinaert^'^ which was originally published by
Grater in 1817, and is now reprinted by Grimm. -

The name of this heretofore disregarded votary of the Muses,
appears from the first line of his poem to have been WUlemz —

" fPtlkm die vele boeke maecte,"

• says the Coniburgh MS., the only one which has yet been
printed. The Amsterdam MS. on the other hand has —

** JVillani die Madock maecte,"

from which we gather that his name was Willem die Matoc,
(from the old Flemish Mate, socius, likewise pauper, miser, with
the diminutive oc therefore sociolus, or pauperculus); a piece of
knowledge which explains the hitherto unintelligible passage at
the termination of Jacob van Maerlant's Reimbibel.

* h in hot too nnich to expect tlmt some of tlieie «arHer Fwnob poem on tbe Mbject
of Reynard tuny ,vet coine to liglit. If lott, they were ptobably in existence «p loa
later period than is geuemlly supposed ; some of tkem being perhaps amlalncd in o«e
or other of the iionieroas MSS. of " Renart/' mentioned in Ibe latelj pabKabed cata-
logue of the Ancient Library of the Louvre, Inventaire dt Vanoitmne BsMsatfcBf r i»
Louvre, fait en VAnn/fe 1373, jxir OiHef Mallelt, Garde de ia dite BibUatki^, ife.
8vo. Paris, 1836. We ontittcd (d Male in the notice of this work io our last '^ ~
that its editor is the venerable Van Fract of the Bibiiotbequc du Rui.

Reynard the Fbx. 5L1

** Want nit nes niet Matoc^s^rom
No Rdtmert*$t na Artnr'a botrder."

** Wiliam die Matoc/' says Orimm, ^ must without doubt be
looked upon as the author of * 'Reinaert.' It is Hiost probabk, that
he was nn eailier poet than Maelant, and not merely a contempo-
rary : I believe be must be placed soon after the year 1250.''

The accuracy of Grimm's opinion has however been doubted,
but, as it appears to us, upon very insufiicieot grounds. In a mo-
dernized Flemish version of his work, entitled, '* Rewaert de Foi,
fraer de oudste beryming" which was published at Eecloo, in
1834, its editor, Mr. J. F. Willems, asserts that WUlem van
Utenhoven was the real author : adding, that Madoc was not the
author, for that the name of such a writer cannot be fbund-^that,
in the passage where Madok occurs, it cannot be the name of a
man, as Maerlant observes (Hoffmann's Horse Belgicae, part 1,
p. 21,) and merely designates a poem ; and lastly, that the article
de is never used before the Dutch proper names.* Notwith-
standing these objections, we still believe that Grimm is perfectly
right. The argument that Madok cannot be the name of the
writer, because no poet of that name is known, applies as directly
against its being the title of a poem ; for no poem so designated
has been handed down to us. And, with regard to the article de
never being used before Dutch proper names, we can only say
that, in the very volume of Hoffmann's, which has just been ra-
ferred to, mention is made of Jan de Clerc, Niclaes de Cierc^
Andreas de Smit, and Jan de Weert van Ijpre.

Be the author of the Flemish ^^ Reinaert" Willem van Uten-
hoven, or Willem die Matok, a point which further investigation
can alone decide, bis work, which contains 3474 verses, is one
displaying considerable genius and spirit, and may justly claim
the merit of eshibiting a number of the most pleasing and spirited
adventures in Reynard's history, skilfully worked up into one
connected, well arranged, and perfect whole. Willem, who
states his work to have been undertaken at the solicitation of a
lady, whose name however he does not specify, confessedly em-
ployed for bis purpose French materials, such certainly as have
not come dovin to us, but which were no doubt current at the

* Ow iMtioe tif thii new FlenUli Rejnard, for we have not wnoi the book Useir, is
<^ed irom Bosuvrth*$ Origin of the Dutch (8vo. London. 1836, pp. 18 and 19), in
^Kh-oKotfMi is nutde of manaacripts of ' E^naert* at Stutgard and Antwerp, aiid
w^rtoie ii fbithtfr Unled that there was also one at Amaterdaio, which a few veara ago
^1 ivid «o aa Eaglnbman. Querif. Waa Uiis the late Mr. ileber, at (he recent sale
liwboHiiaBMiiacripia, M. Van de Weyer, the Belgian n)ini»ter, purchased a copv for
^^^deak ^ It ought to be added, that Grimm's knowledgOHif the AmstiTdam MS.
was derived from the Ficmisb |)criodicaf, Kon$t en'LetttrMe,(w 1^2£>

31^ MeoD, Chabaille, Mone, and Gntnm.

tim^ he wrote in French Flanders and Artois, wbepce he could
have little difficulty in procuring them. But, whatever those
materials may have beeu^ the manner in which he has employed
them justifies to the fullest his claim to the character of a skilfoi
and successful writer. In his work, the history of ^Rejmard is
told in light and agreeable language ; the narrative is well sus-
lainedy there is nothing omitted^ there is noibing unnecessarUy
introduced, but the incidents appear to sprii^g naturally one from
another, and the interest which we feel at the opening of the
poem keeps gradnaliy iiK^reasing as we approach itBt^rauimCBoiL

To this poem of Willem's^ a continuation <cof»iating 'of 'u[>*
wards of 4000 verses, and of which a fragment com posing iOSS
^ines (s now 6rst printed by Grimm) waB>6ubseaueiilly Padded by
some writer whose name^ is entu-ely unkhown. The i^ece of this
addition, which i-elates a number of adventures of very didbrBOt
degrees of interest, told too in a very inferior styie^ Ceods^ is may
readily be conceived^ to weaken the impression produced by
Willem's well-contrived history. Nevertheless, the two works
appear to have been regarded very soon as- oat only. The tran-
scribers probably united them as a matter of course ; and after
the invention of printing they were both, to the entire suppression
of Matok's fame and name, reduced into prose : which version
was on its appearance received with such universal favour, ihsk iu
a short time the older poems frpm which it was derived were eo*
tirely forgotten. Jt is not Known who was the adapter of this
prose version, the first edition of which was published at Gouda,
by Gheraert Leeu, in 1470; the second at Delft, in 148.3.

Some opinion may be formed of the suocess which attended
this publication from the fact that, two years after its appearance,
that is to say, in 1481, Caxton published a translation of it* #oto
English, in which the Flemish text is very closely followed.
Caxton's edition is divided, like that of Gheraert de JLieeu, into
forty-three chapters; of these, the first twenty-two correspond
with Willem's original poem, of which we have not offeree! any
analysis* seeing that such of our readers as desire it, may iind the
m^ans of asqert^ining how Willem told his story, either by con-
sulting hif ppem in Grimm's inestimable volume, or by examining
oae of the many Englisn editions of *' Reynard the Fox.**

;|I|IH»' It I] > '' ' '■ ' ' III"

* We have heard Uiat a republicatlou of Cax ton's " Butoryt of Ueynaf-t the Ton,''*
TrTth an Introduction and Notei, is at thU momi'nt in ctmtenfpl«t$oii» We tm -glad tftit
Jt is so I fof^'vvitjMOt car!ng to nanilesl out liking for old Ca«tQn*s tiaty, w,ibe saiie
manner as a late distinguished antiquary, who regularly read it out to lus wife every
Christmas — (of course, as Friar Tuck said, " exeqfVu escipiHidu'*) — we are still suffi-
cient admirers of his quaint and racy style, to bail wlUi 'satisfaction the prospect of
procoring his book, ;it a somewhat less' price than £184 1 l6t,, the sum produced bj
Mr. Inghs's copy*

Reynard the Fox. 313

T*l)is translatiOD must not however be regarded as the earliest
introduction of the Reynardine Fables into the Literature of
EIn gland, for there is good reason to believe that they had been
popular in this country in far earlier times. To say nothing of
Chaucer's Nonnes Preeste*8 Tale, in which we learn^ how

'* Dan B.ii0sel tiva fox itert up at one^
And by thf^^argatbente Cbauutedere/*

and t^hich is obvioualy a genuine Reynard lu^tory, we have far
earlier asd more dectaife evidence of that fact* In the voIuuiq
of Al. ChabailW» for iiuitanoev to which we httve before alluded,
there ve to-, be found two extradtfi from the writings of Anglos
Noiman Poela^cooiniunicated Iq. that .gentleman by M* Michet
from the MSS; in the British Miiseuiny in which distinct i:e«
ferenoea are made to them. The firsts from Cbardri*s Paem»
' JLtf Vie dt Set Dormanz! is as follows:--**

'* Ne voil pas en Fables d'Ovide
Semnurs, me^tre rnun estukle *,
Ne ja, sftcbez, ne parlermn
Ne de Tristram, ne dc GaleruHi .
Ne de Retiard, ne de UersenU
Ne voil pas mettre m'eQteote.'*

The other ia from Benoit de Saint«Mor«e*a ' Estoire e lu
CenSahgie des Dux qui uut esii par ordre en Normendie:^ —

** Dune Vout quens Herldfns parser ;
Ausi H prist talant d^usier
Cuine fist a dan Isengrtm.
• Uq chevalier de Costentin

CoDuit qu'il aveit jk vea.*

The Harleian MS. (No. ^19) of the Latin Fables df Odode
Ceriton was assuredly compiled in Bngland, as the introduction
of English verses into the moratizations clearly proves, and we
there find several of Reynard's Histories related, with the names
of the actors, Isingrinus, &c., a fact which serves to show that
the.<e stories were as familiar to the inhabitants of this island as
to thb^e of the continent. Another manuscript in the same
libi'ai^ (No 013), which was obviously written iiv thd fbbrteemh
century, contains a political bdTlad, in which is imrodiiced the
following curious allusion to the same cycle of fable. The author
is complaining that there is one law for the rich and another for
the poor, and he illustrates hU case by. the following' speile*:-*-

'* Tbe lyon lete cri, as hit was do,
For be bird, lonie to telle.
And eke him war i-* told aUo,

That the wolf didde no3te welle.

3 14 MeoD« Chabaille/ Mone^ and GrimQi.

And tbe fox; that lither grome^
With the wolf i-wreiid wbs^

To-for har lord hi schold come
To amend har trepas*

And so men didde that sell aste^

That trepasid nojt, no did no gilte.

With ham bothe i«wreiid was,

And in the ditement was i-ptlt.

The Toxe hird a-maog al menne.

And told tbe wdf with the brode cmne,

That on him send gees and henne^
That other geet and molune.

The seli aasse wend was saf,

Por he ne eete nogjL bote grasse.

None Tiftes he ne ;^afy

No wend that no harm nas.

Tho hi to har lord com to tane»

He told to ham law and skiUe ;
Thos wikid bestis laid adnne,

^ Lord/ hi seiid, ' what is tfai wille ?*

Tho spek the lyon hem to«

To the £ox aoone his wiDe,

* Tell me, boi, what hast i-do.

Men beth aiioute the to spflle.'

Tho spek the fox first anone,
* Lord king, nor thi wille,
Thos men roc wreiitb of the tane»

And wold me gladlich for to spille.

' Gees no hen nad ic no3t|

Sire, for soth ic the sigge :
fiat as ic ham dere bo^t.

And bere ham up myn owen riggc*

* Godis grame most hi have,

I'hat in the curte the so pilt :
VVhah hit is so, ic vouche save,
Ic for-^ive the this gilte.*

The fals wolf stode be-hind.

He was doggid and ek felle,
' Ic am i-com of grete kind,

Pes thou graunt me, that ou ni^t ful welle.'

' What hast ido, bel ami.

That thou me so axest pes ?*

* Sire,' he seid, * I nel nozt He

If thou we woldest htnsr a res.

' For ic hinted up the doune,

To loke. Sire, nri bi;^te,
Ther ic slow a motune.

Ce, Sir, and fewe gete.

Reynard the Fox. 315

* Ic am i-wreiid. Sire, to the.

For that ilk gilt :
Sire, I cbul sker me,

If oe ^ef ham diot no pilt/

' For soth I sigge the> bd ami,
Hi nad no gode munde.
Thai that wreiid the to niei.

Thou ne diddist no^t hot thi kuncl.

' Sei, thou me, a38e, what hast i-do ?

Me thenchith thou cannist no gode :
Whi nadlstoa as other mo,

Thoa come of ^ether stode.*

' Sertis, Sire, not ic rtogt,

Ic ete sage alnil gras.
More harm ne did ic no^t,
Tber for i* wreiid ic was/

' Bel ami, that was mts-dO)
That was a^^e thi kund.
For to ete snch gras so, —
Hastiliche ^e him bind :

* Al his bonis je to-draw,

Lok that 5^ noj^te lete«
And that ic ^\ve al tor lawe^

That his fleis be al i*frette.' "

But the space which we have tlready occupied, we trust not
unsatisfactorily, in sketching the literary history of one of the
most popular emanations of human fancy ever conceived, admo-
nishes us to bring our labours to a close. We cannot do so,
however, without referring to that version of Reynard's History
to which we have already alluded, as one which, through its
borrowed charms, had for too long a period usurped a place in
public estimation to which its own merits by no means entitled
It. This is the Low German '^ Reineke de Pos," attributed by
some to Heinrich van Alkmar, by others to Nicolaus Baumann,
whose yet unsettled claims to the authorship of it have proved a
fruitful source of literary controversy, but need not now detain
us. Great, indeed, is the sensation which this book has created;
much has there formerly been written about it ; more, we can very
^fely prophesy, than will ever be again. The bringing to light
of the Flemish *' Reinaeit " will pull it from the throne which it
has so long unjustly occupied. Yet it cannot be denied that
Reynard's fame has been greatly extended by means of this ver-
sion, which has been looked up to for centuries, as by far the
Q)08t important and valuable production to which his history has

"^ aiG Meon, Chsibailte/ MMe '^and Grimm.

t: ^t9e» tiftd« ' !.Tb« >nky^* pMiihir it a^f^j^ has" tifeen. Ntit only
>i*M^ there trtt^n-feiMiihenibfe editioii!^ of d>is^L6w Ofcripafii poem,
<teiriH^Wi9 thoo'twcy trftnslaKions of it iBt<y fli^h'<SeAftaD, wineh
(b«4fii(>l^li-'repftnl<9d' again himI again. It has^' been trtmsltfed
iot^ IJ0liti>VHitfri^ifeiil^ Sehdpfifer, iot6 O^HiliH'dfldimb S«re<fisii;
/Mkl'T^r^ltsr a>K <B itsetl^ e^ly "a tmiUtfitibn, A ff^lfbea from
itbil FlttrtMbb ^ R«ittiJeit/'«nd the Low German ^'^Reinefcerfimted
dar junbaj^osilion^ ^itt ptt>V« the .truih^ ^ otir Mseition: ' '

IsfeOgrth begorisle saeii 1 '" '/' ' '' '• Js^gnm, <fe wjiU, sp^^ also ^liten an,
«iBlM4fracr<TCoiiWlMi^i >^ !. '!:.'J,i.: •. fjt, «dde^>^< Uo^eMeiilbtfiikf/g^Mge

'tthtfacfm6*1m"mire Vcadi^ ' ' * '«*•'• BeMe dorff rrgt und dorg gima«iy'
.'Ilto«hiRttiinicft(Mtl|ll^«i«ii?^ ' ' ' : •- Bii4fiKttM:t3«i Jm gttit«n shSdm, '
- P^f r ic af diclFfw hel)^ iablfa^g . \ . , i , , , , . .{>Cf l toi EVwiIk fitt Ail^l»«M iCillP
Grbten lachier eadp verVypi :, .... P'»r '^ fakeii fiui hayvc C9\(^ ,

n^dVal dandre'ont fter.nie hii *", " ^ '" •tri>l^'8handeuu.swir forS»» ' \

)\DM hi loin wff4itstet ^4Aben, / ^ !'{ i: F/^lilK! Mkto«tK|lMet j««les >'*

Dat hi»e besekede, daer si Ijiiglieo/^ Unde ipine? kipded o)^>||igtig^a{ipneji<

'fXdtieV tv»c nolnt ne sagften ' *' ' He b'emeg uil Uesiegheae se, dir wi ief«n

. £i)de t| mmM^ii «taerbleat : ' '. ^^Dat^lMrirtf fl! A*dU«r Msrgett ' -*

Nochtan hon^i mi teiK. ) » . I^ii wgt<lBdtd«tav #i.Mlrt>Uid> »

Het was sint 90 verre coraen ^ Nogian lionede he roi nog sind ;

'<II«tt|««hdlliil«oE'af waagh^lwolea W«ite I* #«** ehis to i^rti0 gefeMckt

.9i]h(W.IU!NMiflbsQifdehbbWii'^edte^ * : Df|t«^ft*dag.ifOtfd^^nonieii>

Si(ic^ QQSculiije : cnde aJso saen. . ., Mtin sl)oldpdvi&e^als<^Hgta)«^ sb^^ci,

, AUe die heleghe \varea broqlit Do oQd «ik JRe'^nke tud«medeiu ,•

Was hi andetsins bedocht Do \k dcti ed wolde hiivT^h tojatioi

{KMt dntfoer dhs in sine ve«te.* *' Emit \^Um un eiit idr h^ cms ^a^ sittt fsiten."*

have not yet touched upon. What we have gathered from it will
show the extraordinary combination of patient research, unwearied
i,ndu$^rj^, ^nd,,inexb^n&t,ib|e learning, which it ^every wjiere f^-
nibiis. Biit we mayba^e occasion to, speak, yet. again upon this
point. ^^ ^I^Hfh' Inhere w^s.tli^^ had escaped even his searching, eye,
ui)ti^^;^fter,t)i8 ho()k was published* much, we believe, has since
been aiscoverecj.and forwarded to him bv friehdly hands.; SQibat
w^ expect, jtoj have to tpan^him for fuiper illustrationis of tue
History of Reynard ^tbe Fox : a subject on which we feef that our
rt'arferS Ufll not'tonsider us t6 have (I welt at too gri^at'tt hn^lH,
Wh^n th^y rtmemb^r ttiat it hfts ht^ti deemed wbrthyof 'trbplbjittg
tfte Wed of ohie 'of Gettn ally's pi'dfouTicfest scholars— Jacob Gtraim;
irid thte ildeti<^ fancy of- Germany*s greiitest'bard— the illustridos
OStiife:' ' '

RnjfmirdiheFwn 317

Osf^g IP v^riMs w^mMtwM^t we have ooly jusl leceived a
cop7 9!f '' Rmmke Fos, Nackder LuUnl^r Auiggkevmh Jakre
i 49^. ; Jdit Sin(eifii»gp tCHowt^ ,inki,Jmfi€itkuvf^H vom Hif^mmn
xim SuiUr4tkbfn. BfesUM» 1834^ »^' Tbia voltimo*T--coaliiiii-
if^,^ it dpes m.9c<}Mr«|e«eprmt.Qf tb« Liib«)^^' Mwmke Fq$^"
«^^ed by ihf ^arnAd fiulbpr Qf tbe //^ Belgidf, JFut^mie^,
iVidiuam^ &4:.-^fori9M» in conjun«lioii whh (be worka wbkh have
been under oar «oafiUkraiioa» a perfect coHedipn of all (be pub-
Iisbe4 maleriab oecefvary for tbe illustratioa of Beynard's bistorv.
The iMit appears lahave been most carefully foniMd ; and, as soeh^
this reprint is fi^r superior to any that have preceded it — not ex-
cepting evf^o tbe.celebr:(ted Wolfenbiittel reprint of 171 i-r— wbich
was eciited by tbe eccentric Hackmaim; mer i^ich it has, more-
over, the great advantage of possessing an admirable glossary^ — tli^t
one thing needful in aH publications of early literaiure'<**atKl many
very <Meful and curious illustrative notes* While on the subject
of illustrative notes, we will take the opportunity of furnishing
Crimm and lioffmanH with a passage which proves Grimm
(Inlrod* p. «Kxvii.) to have befen fully justified in donbting whe-
ther, by ** Mertifs vogelin,*' 5aint Martitfs bird — tbe prow was
intended. In DtmcaU Illmtraiions of Shakspe^ef voU ii« p. 346,
we find the folloM'ing fable, taken from Odo de Ceriiotu

" ThaKU is a kind of wrea named after Saint Martin, with wry long and
slender legs. Tbfs bird^ sitting one day in a tree, in tbe fulness of bis
pride, sudd<^nly exclaimed : * It matters not to. me though tbe heavens
fall; for, with tbe aid of my strong legs, 1 shall be able to support them/
Presently, a leaf fell upon the foolish boaster, who immediately flew awiiy
IB great tarior, exclaiming* ' O, Saint Martin, Saint Martin, help your
poor bird!* Tbe moral compares Saint Peter denying Christ to this
wren ; whicb it also assimilates to certain pot-valiant soldiers, who boast,
in tbeir caps, that each of tbem can beat three of the stoutest Frenchmen/'

Abt, IV. — 1. Memoires sur le Consulate de 1799 ^ 1804, par
un ancien Conseiller d'Etat. 8vo. Paris, 1827.

2. Lt C^onsulai et rEmpire, ou Hlstoire de la France el de
fiapoKon Bonaparte, de 1799 a 1815, par A. C. Thibaudeau^
. Membre de la Convention et de Tancien Conseit d^Etat, Auteur
Aei Memoires sur le ComulaL 10 vols. 8vo. Paris, 1835,

EvBB siupe we first saw Thibaudeau's '< M6moires sur le Con-
sulate' which came out as a continuation of his '* Memoires sur
W Directoirej" we looked upon them as one of the best, or, lo
speak more correctly, one of the few good books which have
been written concerning the history of Napoleon. Thibatuleau^a

VOL. XVII. NO. XXXIV. 2

S ] 8 Thibaudeau*5 Memdin of Vapoleopi .

personal character; the independence of his opinions, and tfan -pftit
^hich h^ had acted throughout the early stages of the revdotiony
served to enhance the advantages of bis snbsequent ponitioti as
t^ouncilior of state under Bonaparte^ to whom he had fnmifiar
access, and who appears to have often conversed with him hi a
free^ confidential manner. The sensible, modest tone which per-
vades his memoirs, is of itself a sufficient guarantee fbr the au-
thenticity of his narrative. We find in it none of the dogmatkm
or political intolerance of the imperial regime, for Thtbaiideaa
appears to have passed « unscathed and unscarred, through the
trial of that dizzy period which turned the brains of 90 fliany
others, and to have remained to the last a sober, sensible French
citizen, and an honest man. The particular department of Mn-
temporary history on which he wrote was also happily chosen;
it was " the civil life of Napoleon/* Napoleon's military Wfe is
described in a multitude of works; concerning his privatfe life
we have Bourrienne, and the, memoirs of the Duchess of Abnmtes^
-but his civil career, as administrator^ legislator and statiesnMm of
a great empire, which is in our opinion the most important,
though perhaps the least studied, part of his character, couM only
be described by a man in Thibaudeau's position.

** The most faithful history of governments/* says the Preface to the
Memoires, 1827, ** i^ written in the registers of their deh'beratioDs.
A collection of those of the council of state, and of the private cooncib
and ministers, under the consulate and the empire, would form a more
instructive history than all the books that have appeared on those
epochs. But if a hand, in a manner invisible and unknown ta Nano*
leon, his councillors, and ministers^ had taken down, aa they apoKe,
their opinions and expressions, that indeed would be a still more use-
ful collection than that of the oflScial reports and resolutions. Such is
the character of the fragment which is now laid before the public; it
consists of speeches of Napoleop on important questions, delivered to
his council of state or in the privacy of his cabinet, and also of conver-
sational dialogues, held by some of the councillors with him or with
Josephine, relative to great political events."

Thibaudeau's original memoirs terminated with Napoleen's
assumption of the imperial power. It was known diat be bad
left materials for continuing them through the period of the em-
pire, and we were expecting their appearance with some curiosity.
At length the whole work, including both consulate and empire,
appeared last year. We confess we have been disappointed by
its perusal. That excellent little volume of the '' Memoires sur
le Consulat" has been recast and swelled into three volumes,
followed by not fewer than seven thick volumes on the Empire.
The original matter appears to be diluted, having lost in interest

Tbitiaudeau'f Memoirs of Napoleon* 9 19

>

^bftt it lia9 gained in bulk; the arrangement of the heads or
chapters is totally altered, and, aa we think, not to the advantage
Qf clearoeaa or graphic effect^ and the reat ifi made qp out of the
pagea o£ the Moniteur, and of Las Cases, Gourgaud, O'Mearaj
afibrding, as it nuay be expected, very little novelty of informa-
tioOf The tone is likewise altered; the sensible, modest, unbiassed
tone of Tbibaudeau's original memoirs can only be traced here
and ther«^ in those passages which are given entire from the former
work, while the remainder exhibits much of that style and spirit
peculiar to the imperial school, and which is now becoming ob-
solete even in France. We shall, therefore, in the following pages,
refer, es much as we can, to the original work, or to those pas-
sages in the new and larger one which are evidently from the
same p^n.

The ** Memoires sur le Consuiat" began at once by introducing
ua to the First Consul installed at theTuileries. The larger work
begina by a retrospect of the various stages through which the
revolutioB had passed, and of the events which led to the organic
change .of the 10th Brumaire, We shall not dwell upon tliem«
as the facta are notorious. We shall only quote the following
passage. After observing that the success of Bonaparte de-
pended on the mere cast of a die ; that, if the republican majority
m the council of five hundred, instead of listening to Lucien and
Cbazal, had at once passed the decree of outlawry ; if Augereau,
Jourdan, Bernadotte, instead of remaining mere spectators, had
not hesitated to risk in a civil debate that life which they had so
efte naked in battle; it were difficult to say what the result might
Inve been, as the Jacobins had great chances in their favour.

" Considered legally, the 19th Brumaire, like several other memo*
ttble days of the revolution, was a violent attempt. The authors of
similar violences obtain at first a bill of indemnity through their suc-
cess; hut afterwards it is the use they make of their victory, which
sither absolves or condemns them before the tribunal of public opinion.
Previously to the 18th Brumaire, the republic was certainly in a state
of imminent cnsis, not so much from foreign attack, for the victories
of Zurich and Bergen had checked the allies, but from its internal dis-
HQsioQs and disorganisation, which paralized its strength. The coup
^iUU of the 18th Brumaire, we must acknowledge it, imparted a salu-
**ry shock to the machine of the state. What were its ultimate conse-
(juences on the national independence, representative government, equa-
lity, liberty, the principles, in short, of the revolution ? The history
of the consulate and the empire must answer this question."

By alaw passed on the 19thBrumaire,a commission of fifty mem-
bers, tweqty-five from each of the two old legislative councils, was
to prepare certain alterations in the constitution of the year III.

z 2

S<20 ThitmudcBU V Memoirs of (NMj^dleOii.

Bbt iitider ilie word "altei'tftibns/ BonafyaMei < SieyeA, mad^^ttM^ir

W^Mif, meftot a totally new coif^tidftiM.' After bottle tittei^Bo-

ink paHe sent for tit6 cdnMtssion to assemble at 'liifti tfeaiRienoe mt

th^ Loi^mbourg. '^Several 6f ih^ itfieiitb%t^ felt tht« atHMftoos

as^'derdgntbyy to their dignity and- mdependdnce/jkif tAey'iBill

obeyed:^^ Honftpart^ frotti Vti^t moment? «a«ttmed: the jpfi^iM^y

^ df die* cbmniid^ion. Ht a^ked Siey^s fel' hw'pl^$ ^ey«a^^-

I'iil^ned it tothef m^ttifb^rsf. '^ VayfineP^^^xcfciaiedBicttUlfM^

''*^ btit'rtier^ are objections also to thi» systd[n4>>''We (MUW^ Vefl^t

iipbti it. ' iMjourn till to^tnorrowJ' Dltb mtkPiAiifikm^i»lh6^'

hiiMdii'be^n: It'Vras Msy €6'()ereei<t« that ^0raa|ia(Mli^ MM lio

■^^^f 'M^ir6i'l6F'9ieye^^ ^tan> and 'that h&Mti^ muiA'ih^lNi^aeli-

ditdns fet i^^ «t^MgYb and ' tnfd^fMfudeMre of <lfh«i < ^^iMicild^^^ ' Am

'%X^(b^'iAsit\tina liberties. At bst, «« Citketl DAundut^^Mftl' iie,

''^'tdfcpdt^ fh^pefn and sit doUHt thi^re/' t^be' dfa«iiasioU"|hen

WssnVned a tiiore regular fdrm, and wafi^^redndiedtiday^^aftidr^Aiy.

'B6na|[yaHe^ t^ok part in it^ made objectiofi4'(oii<sugg:efetiGM; |nit

"j^Wch-^rti^fe' to tbe vot^/ tinti Dailnon %rotfe do#itAhe NKT^tarions.

"^-li^Wki (i^leiii* that tWo opinions divided lheti6iiuMtg^oii:Joya^ty
'i(ti^(i6i^ed ^eyi^ (i^lan/ think4n^ that^thi^r ^^i^>^^^

'batiofiNdK liberties; the re^r, )Qiid tbege'ferbiedtliveifiiljdrity'^.^ed
Vitb'^ona^aHe; And #ere iHteh ^f the po^eri^'totbd^iOiifertied
'^il|Wrty%«r ejc^ilSve, f<^ fh^y ^ell knewAacbe wbuW' ^^t'Aie
' ' 'b^d^ or tbirt idxeeutive.' The dise«ssi«n 'bMweett' 'Bon^rli^^d
^^ Ae'd:^fbhd(5^r*s biP Vepiiblietin' itislitutibns iddQietl«iVM!<gfe«rH^ii>ttnn.
"''He '^afd '\itit d^y Yo -M^ttibietiy ""^ "^oUr-discouiiBdia'^rit^d^tor a
^^dWbl!' 'This threw^a cooh^^esidovei^ the <a«8emMyii ^4Ddiyatft»te,
V.*b6MniVer/^m) aftet Seized an opportunity -bf apologising^ «o <Mat-
'^^\^*6'f(irhi^ vivacity: - ..,,...... i.

' ' ^ Tli^ 'flht ]m))Ortant'j[]bestion ivas that of f he ^electoral liMMMse
'"siftd tliebVOde Of 'eK^k*6ising it, >t^hkh i^ (he 4»*Uen6digbiirv^ all
' 'i^^^sefnidtfve^cbnstiiuttotisf^and whicfa nb one yetup^sim^l^lMve
^'lidl^J^: (JniVer^al suflrtige se^ms only suitable toMMH ^hMntftta-
^ 'fcifes*, suCh'a^ the Swisjj cantons, or to weM' states^ in' whitb Ihtre
''jbifcty nd \bf>f g\tit meqaallty of rank and station; stKrti f^nhe
''''sti^k'br Kot'ih America/ and even there tU<^ vttrvous' staterare
"^'*ftr*fifbni^fbnb\ving'yme imifonii jirinciple in tHbtr ele^^V^rcdfran-
chise. In ^oin^ a vbter must 1)e a fVeeholdery ^ii sill be mu^'be
>»'«lipayer^df taxes; in* some i» . must, have i^esi^ediAwo-yejuii in the
^'^ «fM^;ta*Wherb ono; ionlmosiaR the black population;) even (be
'^"iVeb'bl^dk^ liii^jl^Kdlided. 'Besides, it <»i^ to be bb^ervedythat
'" 'ihe bila^iflfciitiohii recjoired for a represetttatit^e Utt ahabigheriban
^'^l^j'ijho^f^r ^ iTibst states; and thdt, of tlife twertfy-fOftViftites

,,,jj9^t|ip i^piphi iybicJj "form each a separate republic, WytfiHeci' ex-
ceed one niiliion ofinliabltants, and only four more reacli'ld fialfa

• inMlion* Tbey ^^j th^^fort be xXm^A anriQDg bid^U c||^fT>pprf^|f s.
Bu^.in.a single state of thirty millions^ liker Fi-mice^ipf.^yliiclt.iifQire
• UMni.gnehalf arfi or,i¥0i^ illiterate mi ppoTi and bad .ttQ.c}^r
'fHiii€;i9pliop'Df>poUtkti)'Kight«^the qualifioitions requjrMlipirpbttiig
at .aleciiMs .become a autijact of viery .serious. cQpaide^tipn.
TbeJaw qI tha coottitutinn.of 4ba y^r III. waa. found u^pfii.lo
.answer. Al one tiina a luutober of rojialist^ weretrl?(^^|;ni^aQd
\\f^i£QUfk d'eiui i>( the Ijl^th Frnetidor drpve then A^vpj^ . .TPP
4ft^ Jacobina came in, and tvere ..ej^ct^d by yioUnc^.Qi^tiie.^Z^d
Fiof&l.. 'i]^l4pQ foUowing eleptiona tliey caq^eiin ^ain,,jB]|i4ff|j^

. i^ra«drll^f)ni»>'i Byf^-y, yq%ci ivUnessq^i jhe,mafnf;>)irol;,w»9jfl?Cly
:-Qf>otbWi Aocoi9^iiied. by Atvi^iuipn of Mie .Qoi^4itu(tiop^ y^lfK^s
.»7^)ftQfie4 <tQ. obviate Uliw evil, bj tpiing^w^y ftoftijjtJjfcBe^ftl^^Uie
, ljgh|.^ fibo^mg;tlieir r^pr^^lative^ i^,9ndif^^ jj^ynfifjrQfPfl Jie
VP(O|^0tedii.lherQf«tre, that tbo. peoplip ahf^uld m<cpb^ I^PP9^'?ii,i^*
.4ida«^^iro9i.ai|iPQ8.il4l0fn >h|^ /9P|ia|^ fthquj^ <jl?.aj»s^t|)w..fi«pre-

.4cwtoto¥«9. .M4 )S'h9i.m8 tQApiKi^iiM jlie,j^natp?;. VV^UfiFff-.W*^
^^^fisiihni ia to«iVM4He.0i?^/c#<iv^,..TM?j.w<a«.ftl^i)^^^

.**l»M*j|te p^opte weiq;lri«ked 43^,Qfi theirjw>V4Bfeigiitj^ ,i^LJ^fl)(e-
> H^nly in Ibe mtm of which thay had Joi|g|it. for ,X^m ]rfif^;^d
' '•Av iwbicbr Qominally at leait, ^ OHlllon 0/ ^Whad Jl93t,A|f^||;{^v^<*-
. i|t as (rue. that tins ^pvefeignty had ev^i.- been*, £pM^^^

wajAlij^. of .the peopi?: a ai€i;e paipf?, a aort.pif/pqlitipaJi.Pfftlfln;
..sAiU this fipimaal fight, and the for^vs.bif <.w,hicb ii^w^.qqiy^r^jijad,

f^bt4^ Iiaye been-tr^ati^d.Avfth ^o^^QydmtipQrf, ri^jge^i.hy ,men
M^UliM\g in tke naoie of th9 repuMi^, The,n[s^f;nK)t tq^J^ry
.;^d Mkjfffy&QtitiQn, j^bus OMce lAegufi, W^s ei^laflge^ |Lfpop,)9/^yffry

successive year. Lists of persons qualified |pi]t>.0 jeV9f|t^(|«ag^ep-
. ^iiof .tb«r. l^gisjfltiire w^re wade ont-ju qa^^h fjfip^rtweflf r they

,ja|aownted.to 5Q0Q, all over Frauce, j .Tliis wo? palM tffp Ijftf of
. ii^tion«il «}ijg[ibUity, .There vi^as an inferior )i^t,,^«(I|^^{\fp^rt-
, «iif#Mii^ IvImcH cooaisM o^( AQfiOO, out pf lybofpiil^ c)^^eq^
, ms> t^. /cboose, the j^dicial and acUaini^aUvq,p$C€;r9„> ^S^lyi
. :|her€.lV48 ajbifd or cQmmiinaUist.ofjpSQP.fipp,. 9\ii/)f„\vj)f^jhe
. .juferWQr.jsouAicJp.al employ iii^DM,wQfq,^]jbe^j^)Jiqi!) a^9.^jf||he
...e^eKHiteve. AlUhe refit of tlje people, ^aQ1e^,,,.tyf')^tj;^^'^e^^ii-
, jltOfiftOHt of tbirlyj were peatber j5l(?/?ior« i^yrel^We,,! ,^ij.^

-i •■*' Such*. was the political organiaBatictt o£.Fraiicei undfSr tbeicoDiplate,
I .andsnqh the cxerdai of .thenatJonsLsoMer^jgn^^o Xhf(fi9n9^itM!99 of

.the'iTflar VIII» having ihua taken iswiy fron) tJ^Q/Peqplp tiiPl4i{p<^,^ec-
,..i^9 of a|l m magistrates

. ;becap)e a o^atter of

of presenting oafid!

dependent on the executive. The discussion of this laW'ttV the' tV?btt«

SM Thibaudeau*^ Memoirs of Nupokon.

nate was smothered ; in the legislative body the law was adopted by a
great majority." — {Consulate art. ix* chap, xvi.)

Complaints being made against the formatioo of some of the
lists, the subject was afterwards discussed in the oonsiitar comidl
of state. Bonaparte acknowledged that the |dan was iMid^ that it
was trifling, ideology, 8cc.

•

'' Fifly men,*' said he, " assembled in a time of crisis to frame a
constitution, have not the right of disposing of the liberties of tbe peo-
ple. . . . But the nation cannot remain without some sort of orgaoiau-
tion. Better a bad one than none at all. The government must b&ve
intermediate bodies between it and the people. It is better pedbafH
for the ffovemment to have to deal with 5000 individuals^ than with
the whole nation."

The senate, called conservative, wa$ to watch over the ttak^
tenance of the constitution against the encroachments of the
other authorities ; the tribunate publicly discussed the projects
of law laid before it by the executive, and made its report to the
legislative body, which voted upon them, but without discossioD.
The latter now received the nickname of '' the mutes/' Lastly,
a council of state, at which the consuls presided, framed tiie
projects of law to be laid before the tribunate.

Thibaudeau combats the assertion that Bonaparte had little
influence in the formation of the constitution, and that he trusted
to Sieyes and Daunou ; the iact is, that he qui<:kly perceived all
the articles and provisions which could check the power of (be
executive, and insisted upon their modification in hia favour.
The institution of the senate being one of the first of Sieyea's
plans which was proposed and adopted, became a lure for aev^al
members of the commission, who, flattered by the prospect of
becoming senators or councillors of state, gave up their opposi^
tion, and formed a majority for Bonaparte's amoidments. And
to show that the First Consul's opinions on these matters was
formed long before, Thibaudeau refers to a remarkable letter
written by him to Talleyrand in September 1 797, while general
of the army of Italy, from his head-quarters at PasserianO| in
which he explains pretty clearly his ideas of a constitution.

'' Notwithstanding our vanity," thus said that letter, *' our thousand
and one pamphlets, our never-ending speeches, and our eternal bab-
bling, we are most ignorant in the science of moral politics. We
have not even defined what is meant by executive, legislative, and
judiciary. There is only one thing we have deflned, and that is die
sovereignty of the people; but we have not been successful in fixiog
the meaning of the word constitutional, nor the attributions of the
various powers. T])e government ought to be considered b^ the tnie
i'epresentative of the nation, and ought to govern conformably to the

Thibaudeau'5 Memoirs of Napokon. 325

conatiluUoiMU charter and organic laws ; this governmenti as I under*
stand it, divides itself into two very distinct magistracies. One is the
executive; the other ought to watch, not to act, — it should form the
fi^eat council of the nation, into which no one should be admitted
without having previously filled some of those offices which impart to
men a practi^ knowledge of government affairs. This legislature
should be impassible, without rank in the republic, without ears and
without eyes for all things out of doors ; should have no prospect for
ambition, and should not overwheltn us with a thousand laws of ci^cum^
atattces, which become annulled through their absurdity, so that in the
end we are a p^ple without any legislation, but with dOO folio vo-
lumes of law8« It is a great calamity for a nation of 30 millions to be
obliged to have recourse every now and then to the bayonet in order
to save the country, (aUuding to the days of Thermidor, Vendemiaire,
Fructidor, Prairial, &:c.) ; violent remedies are evidence against the
legialators ; a constitution which is given to men, ought to be suited
to men." (See Bonaparte's Correspondence, published by Panckoucke,
letter of the 19 Sepu 1797.)

The institution of the senate corresponded in a great measure
with Bonaparte's ideas of a great magistracy, impassible, and
witboat ears or eyes ; it became therefore his favourite body, and
be ever afterwards held the tribunate and legislative body in little
favour^ — he looked upon them as drags, and soon got rid of the
former, and reduced the latter to a nullity ; and, when at the end
of 1813 the '^ mutes'' at last recovered their speech, his amaze-
ment and indignation at their presumption knew no bounds ; he
told them plainly that they were not the " representatives of the
nation* but merely, a council of administration^ much inferior to
the senate, and to the council of state, and that he himself was
the true representative of the nation." In this angry speech we
may recognize still his old uotions about the nature of '* a go«-
vemment," wluch he had expressed in his letter to Talleyrand
aixteen years before, — the notions in fact of a military chief, of a
coaqueror in every age.

The formation of the executive was the last and finishing
stroke of Sieyes's plan, and the one on which that metaphysical
legislator most prided himself; it was called' the apex of his
pyramid. A grand elector, a sort of president for life, was to be
chosen by the senate, with an income of six millions, a guard of
'3000 mep, and having his residence at Versailles ; all the acts of
government were to be proclaimed in his name. His only func-
tions, however, were to be limited to the appointment of two
conaulfl, one for peace and the other for war, the former consul
to have under him the ministers of justice, of the home depart-
ment, and of finance ; the other, those of foreign affairs, and
of the war and naval departments. The graud elector could

3M Tliibfk\id«aa> MwxAfs ftf^HupdeotL

icqgyitivQ^ tb9 aenmlecpoldnlsofeaKyvelMKi: hy ^dnorbif^^^hia^ thtt is
W' fli9>yi,ir^ceiyii)g bim among its memhcra^sN^heil' tbe oiliCB.wovid
l^ppfne vacant JCsDcais very probable Aeal Sic^s^himaelf
?H^^^4 to bC' grand elector, and thal.he.iftieiided:lioitap«rleBiMl
Cl«jiUsic^e& for tbe>tvuo consuUhips. under him^:. Tb^^h^wtveri
did vpt.HMit.BonApartCrwJiO'iinn^ediQtdijr iwe<i4*voUejiio£aarcasiD
OA^ .rj^iA^ulo 4t jUiQ • wbo^b pbuKL ^f Tbo grand deotor* wm/merel;
tbe gbost of a/aiiilan^ kingnof: the Meravingmni dynastyw- Wbt
mw of.iipirit wouM saBdesoaidtoact svcbMannimnterkpart/
D^ j^mAfaink tbe. nation wottld J^e \nihpteasiire a< mereiag'at
V^l[S9i|l^ receiting «ix millm^ a yba^ far -domg' niilkwg<"
Xbejridi^ule thua UurO'Wn apon the projeotiat<iiica patan eiul
io.ijt.^.Tbe «oniuii&9ioa> discarding the plan altog^ther^ sol^
^tituted timt of 41 first consul, choaen t<^ ten years^ with two
assistant cooaula whom he should appointi qnd who bad only s
^oui9ullativc vote in bis deliberations* Some of the> republican
V^embera of the coRunissian endeattKu-ed to limit tiie- preroga^
pse»- of this mtpreoie nagistracji but Bonapaiite nasiated: upon
giving it tbe greatest mdependenve. and bH the/pi>erogflMnwi of
royalty*. It mitat be observed that i tbe commbsion 'arfaici arw
thiis disposing in aecret conciave^of tiie whole sovereignty of the
nati9%:M^re tfaemselvea parties iiaplteated id the illegal acts of
tbe J9ib Bruisiaire>and had ihefe'efere no safe pbokioit to fallback
ujpoi]} tiiey were obliged to push on Ibe car of htm forwhd^
benefit they bad violated ^he coostitKitioo; his-aueffcas^ nas the
only chance they l»ad of safetjy^ . Atodrdingtyv ^^beacw»' they
qaade any attempt a| reeistanoef Bonaportev wbo fell* hia advan^
Uigcu fU^pped their mouths by aaying; ^' If so, I-wiUr bate no
more to do with your plans; a civil war will be (be cons^

alienee/* Tbe* prerogatives of the first consul MUere greater tbia
los^tof ^, cooatitutional king; for be had tbe initiative -of the
hiwsy hei appointed to all of&eial, adminisCralivey and oamKtf^
8ituations> made war and |)eace> commanded tbe armicav aniitia
aud iiavy/ and held in his bands all the atrii^< of tbo''^^*
Sieyes propoaed to esttiblisb great departmental and piaaicipsl
^ounciiSf indepeiideilt ol' ihe execatitf«/who should haanag^ dieir
own io<^ affairski <^ A cMatitution^" said Bonaparte, .'^onght
noli to enter into: all these- detaiJs. which mnat be provided for
giyidtuilly >and by edpecial • lawsT' . It. was^ therefore^ mere^
stated, in- the pr^neet of the new o>natittttiony that the:to^
adlBi^taationa^ whether in the commwea^rdiatriqts/ were sob*

or4iMat(9'to tbe ttiaislers* . ' ' .

Tb^ hialory. of the muhicil^l and commutml ad minis tralioa in
FraM« is vary ouiiOue, . Under the old monarchy, tbe comtnuat^

thtenritAcdre abd«itogislwlcs)4iieiMi#0,ibow^v^(tiit tt^arjIliM^
iMmet' «1ii)B^h' by> theiibing frbai>atlm :of 'i»BidNUiti|9i|^t^dtt^toCt#^l^
Ihe^motablefl^^^ Wiili r^^nrdtq finaflcMkiadmMisti^tkMKah^r^<btt)M

^nsbeng^^/pti tcban^ dor > Isale/^ cfbMe -MlOO^iifitvak^ mpAs- tt^^^^a^ti
thePiiatradantibf the pv^vibtte^ijuponj wMbce^^fffV^Mimtildit^^^ iufe
kiii|^<aulhorized>Uid QOQtmbl by IiIm |i$«iiMl 'of^ ii^l^6(jiJ^4tfdAlfW*
t^iilered . 4fi( theMiespectwe piirlitiiiii^iicrf. ^ >< In^ iDialt^r^^^if^l'm
aaioqnl^ thBroontraoi WFai^'tO' bd^moctkmfii k^^ne nat^the^frMSi

crqacfciuli iqpi»tiniiiiicipa] iDdefMwIbace/'as jt^d^ i^!^''^(4

btfaevimlmq^rchicBjiaiiii^ iniii|iaij^ plapts ahre^w^ifaif Wey^^{i6ifi(M

ediremoifltd .diriH:tiby,thttikiqgU> The G<liMtitua0tMsetiibly/%y<^

lanv} ofiiDeeiitDber, J989>i establUhad >th^>iihiin)eipbU'lie§>^W

bralid» and uniform {Mriiunpke." :The ri^hUof^ekbtbtVA^Ki'^MM

toailick^renatpaijring.a'crertaani'tuncmnt <af direct t^t^.'^' ^AtfMifMil

gsDerah{WHiu formed: m;each^eomIM^le; •tfov^ th«'*liAitm^

ccafiomk}alf:admhiis|artkb,:bdsk)es>^ii^tt^

#f «rfai€t('wasr|he' inoiil/e, 'faaviap ^ tbe 'direttOioluol >tbe ^libeB^Mi^

ject, kcnvevaiv to'<thevadiiifnila^iltio& of the diimCA^ ^irhidi^^dW

mu taoibjeot totbaticrf' the >d^itfiieiit, subject itt WitQf|^ib''tliy

toyal )atmipitity^ . ; This 4?8t6ii» ifeH i^ith; the overthrew' icvfth^'^Bliit

atitutibnaVnumardfy. i:The itefa&titsin' coMMituthMii^fi tHi^'yi^ii

U&il 4ie0troy«d tkeiindc^endetica}of^thbcdititnttiiecr b^'^ei<^M^

dittiBnto^eaKtOBs '69 diMltflSA^cBUQepihg 'thb'ODiliiyiiurtWhafTii^w

pofkuhttron id(/ 50<)p9 : ivhicU retaikvdd' ai'^^rare^ydiiiitii^mi^V

Tfa^lRiitiifcipal adtnini9tPal<ir8 of the-caoiofi ^el^'ttte^ed'^ikl^blf

each) ^mknibfni^,, but • \^ere: subordihate^ 10 ithe ifAxiiwMhltton^^i^P

tbe(depariaicHt, ^ioh coliM anniil thairttet$ :liiU<'Su^r^ef^l!M'

■ciibe#8»> . ii:«8tiy; <he diveetory or esM^tttve'Cotfld'cashiisl'^fMl^

adbiAiistrator^ and^ by a favtr 4>f tbe^edVldt^lIrt^, y«a>lV';''(V

Mifaineok the. light olf 4>poiQ^>^8''^^^'<>'l<^^^^ 'Uri^mMst^tttort't^^

dlt\AB etrnmanta of >or ateve dOOabilabitafit^. ' AM)i't>tt^^WU^

MUjtatotbe pains > to follow^ the ppogreMB of 2ik^y*^iiiti^\Bt^A^i^i^

in^i^ffitbe 'State' >ithroi^out the. domplteabed < ^atlge^ #^lh^

iusbcfeimririutioDi will AiMlsJtliat'th«ritmr^h^(thHt*tfkvtllilfib»^

fatal, tbe proehm^on. of the ndpuMie/has b«idt|t'ti <hi^nU^d»

pregbeia towards eentralkdtion lafi {iowetr^^iii''tb^i'halldlf'->€^dS^

«temtiver. aiid^m th&minialenal ^iffibeli of-lhtt Cd^itbU>ddyiMI;fi«^

tee^iftBtiaaotherierery'iitdmdua) ov^bctti ^ttflrf|ttH|e6'd^ftan^M#Jj'

wfaieh>couId protect ' the jMOpie agaibstithe iiwtcrpiM^ ti«iM'%f i^Ml^

faction that succeeded in getting possesiitffil'dfi^arii^. Ifi^'iMfMl^

oountrira; aoofa as Smtacfbmdy /EbgNndy ake'Dnited SHkiia/^ttoU

l8DdpflB03'the>fii}^y:cf 'thowhok Mtio^ basibiitii tWAH^^^ki

d28 Thik^tMkrautfr AfewK^i ojT* liAqMJMiC

^ My reign/' 'saidiie'otviiiidtlier^occaiiofai' 'MiegM>iHib'ib6
day on ^vhicfa rwarinade "first* eoDSDbHi jAildi lh«t)tli»'KfHt
clear-sighted people at thiat'tiiiieMdci^tovt^'itf ^o^trfffdvcdiy
the dddresses which ao6oitit>aiit0d'ihh: pvooip1|;al&0D a£<tlie coo*
stitution. Gardl ki hMr^addt^sw ti» the o^tneH of^rtbe)«Uei^ia(ii
in bis usutil ae«demieallBtyleylltattbeyH«<JHnb«illcaaiMlM^
with the poweri^ airi tlie deitioies^of tberepttMic^lJbMrillMr^stA*
ordinary iolluence of thait iiiail| bis-geiifU»,^aBd Jiir>gloii9a»nhBi^
wotiU of tfaemtidved set iKMiodarie^ lotlie pOwer' af.>(liecxM*
tiire,^*^boandarie8'tbe more' elEesett«fe/tB«c0it6e*tfi^«iC}rhiiio(^iDd
down hn a charter^ bofin^thoifaeavt 'MdmUhe ^MH^Mbiachediifa
gr^ataittMf; for Bonupiu4eVttmbitooit'DobMfi\otiii&Mii^ui^^^/
ftc/' Thit tt a «iir spboitnM' (rf^ilbe .veaimnAi^lbf 'ihelogM;
"whEcU pf«vailed atnbnf ptoblie ittivii'in ilffanee^foRsHDOUt ot^ioato
of > a centtey . So rtfaat^ dbitenws^ oiir (UtllMMf, :<f rthhig'tiiwcirfevmi
to the poittl tfaatt the anlly./beoiiri^' a^lasliTCh&.d^pattraeio^ttbB
first consul :«i^flrs the mA o^: Boii9p«rt«( txLi^ikyj^qateMiimrfiMft
gave him the .tUfst df jpoi^lMr did' aobiiiasiheihiniilijtittnitd'^
Hyraiiti our aputhor* iMraosi'a^'crtiel^ !d^HIio^B^79rioiaiu^loMi; a
Tiberius of /Ifeao^ ! which' (Nhpol»mijdertB^f //wma^jiM&no'fDk
various generda^ Mo#ead^ 'Bnruaey Mesaenh^ fe^anoa^neddrt^
fRw constitotidii'to the CiHx>|)r:und6ruthsiriO(iiiMn'*odi^afS!rU

constiliiition^^ isaid 'Morbm ito thfe ^rtiiy. .of ibflfiBUiCH^iKUB^
raotees to the Fi'emih'itfaei faU :e)DeifOBii'of -lii^ii «ig)its^ii^
de|>riving IJie<<f[qveriiiri^|<}f 'ithripBoeetprynfensft Id) ikiBidt>i|r
public traoquiility, udd to siif^yrthe* arhiiea.Hntlitilfatjfineans^iflf
■oenquering. The laiines. mi the Arit rroa^ittralca ^Hbpoititcd bf
the conslitutioii tac0<of ibeoriMhrva a secucityy iSocil' x-tntlfafcsiip
sthch logic will paas cftrrent;'*aDd' there jtisr.niichiigaote xeaciisa*
ble than in the senatoj • :■ f-i*:; .^jToJf '•-

The new< coosif ittttfon was Jtabe'SahctiknaJjJBl *hei^|Bi9fil&'^
hir^e. The former €onsnttttipii9hadbe^!laid(befaiMiitfafr|pr«iii'f
assemblies of' the i^ariousldistrfblB, but^^of '4he)pnsB^titidosaffany
registers were <<)peiied:iir«lhfe< chief towhajofi^cabhidiflKia^^vh^^
the citiaens \vttiie iwnU«ft(tO'C<Mie alid«b«^tffnilMtfiMl^ ^'^
scrutiny of these registers gave for result three millions and ^^^
thousand' assRenttng: wqtea^ iand boa tibnuaend 6va kundrodtfAiA^J'
two dissentient. In a nation of more than. thirty ^illiiNM^iii'^
pniUioua of ! votei^Sj dii not qppatitqf^rja iiun^b^r^i^J ^TOfUW^^'"^*^
one4ialf of the^titzetisiofuage^'yetrihe jiumberlswaaJinM^h St^^
than thoeein faTour<of<be^i«mer'c6a6til»tibtt».iilti»jwli'herti^

obi^rve, that the i^stabHshtnetit M'the repitbli<t on lihtt>irui«y^t^
constiltttiond monarchy itt I71)» bad bteii^atfelid4e*i§li^f%^
million eight hundred thddsahd V6tes;^iid the' ?ui?s^^#'^o***'
tution of the year III. (1795), by ohd irtilHbn^and»Bfty-^*^
thousand alone. . So loucb U^ the umwI .^9«frhQ9.n4h^ ^^'^

edii9latiiiicM»> Bfid 8ll*tbe> actt^bioh; emmmted from th^in, liad
becB mteticuMd^^' by the! majority of tbefroncb peofxie." Why
^fUioottlfOrreaV dii^ority'^pfesft.thtiyiMrifiheBt? Because either
they a(^priehfiodaii;.pfiraapali dangiMr iat'/doing ai>> (especially in
the^twcHficBt itiBtftiioe6j)r or fatcaiiae tliey' w«ffe jeithfr too ignoTant
oBftoQ<tiiditferedkli.aboiiit theaeumatters^ j lib. the case of the cont-
aalaricsiiBtiMitipn^Jt'^. bdt fair ^^oiAdinitfi that the great omsaof
tlw^Freiidk).p^(]yleiattq,aici$cfidriQ it^if not by positive asaentv at
IcoatcifiDdieir' beortag ^ te 4k^ > .ware > weary of Agitations^ and fee*
tialsicand^vespriptHaa^ MMd, pantctf . for security aodlranqttillity,
wliidiDtbeyilMptti^ tolifind'ttodcf ^the.^stn^ngiarm .of Booaparte.
f^rEonij^iiirst'tikiiei'ildvhapa^ akKte^the ibegjooia^ of tbe revoiur
Jbi^i^f i«byioTbifaai»dea«y ^'thfr Q^ waa the -result of

Tsflec^on landi cxperienceyl rather Idiaii^ io^.btii»d .entfauatasm." The
l^erdity^ofjpebpleiooh'to present. esGiigencifis jtither tban future
d^^eraf+rriUieiqiiestioaa^of ^ragaaod cboclkS) of a baknee betiveen
lbelvaEioHa;p(\wiBiiiy.the iiiiQBtieS'4of tbe nacbinery of a^epresenv
tUive'GlMsatitutioD|iW0:tfaiagB tbo>abatitiife;forrtbein.
i> ^far^lwtwev^'the tsf^rages « of tboMpcoi^
abd consiitii tion/iiiraa firoobiaied <a^ iB6ris^ and' Bo»a(forte appmited
ISariibaodrBsrfladb.Labi^iniflfaboffd'aald ^hird jdctoisuls* Tliey were
li6lh'hieit>of/ad«ioatifHii andiBonaiderable iofonnatioiiy ^ moderate
inilli^irc 'settinifitns) andiin tlkeir heaorta ii&clined to monarchy^
iBiijdjniig^igipedjpcfesdDai'XepmtatittnlpiTiideiit^^^^ uaefui sup-

fMtta/ofitbt aupi^nie{pefvcffjbNt:iiioa|Jabl6of oppoakiig it/' The
iirstficoiuuliiappoiiited tha couiKatlfin of atat^^ a measure ^rhiob
^i^Mithiq^jiisiiirisdiGlion^'fank than wtlhoiiA.waid^^ for the, lists
^icaiuMatfes fraita.tbe 'departeeuts^ be appoiiUied;aJaO)- os ike
nxfjotof vf tikel aeoMsiofi^ wad fbD^tl^^: first timeyt one'^half of the
senators, and the senators thus appointed named tbe members of
4he»lfgiB)ative body md; of tfaettrtbuDate. So itbat, in fact, Bona-
tparteifl^pbiDted the wlioie of tbe^legislatHre and. executive. It is
jmpoatibtef here; to> refnress a smiie abd a sigh at the iacorrigible,
nemc^aMg^ aiidnstounding'ctedlility'of those ii'ho really believe
till revfrtttticNM are moide by tbc peopley mad for the people at
iargb J"»'»''' '"•'" •■• • ' ■•« ■ •* ' :..i'' .■■ ■ . • ■'
- M&ftiapiwtd in Ais'dibieetvdbered itoJiis prcdfessed priociple.of
junMgamatibg all parties.:-^ n t

''*'*<I^#flliitft goifi^Mi^'he said^ ^* hymeim of a pany. I have opened
w^fdii #i>ad 'for siredpable nitrt wbo'^i^obse to waUc oa widi me. I
']iaTe)iii tibycmiiibil eCstiM'iaoderateifiotlatitationalistSy orFeaUlans, as
jdtejT'i^wetfQaUM in tb0:firi|tAatibn<d saMmb])),f9^ch as Rqeder^ri Reg-
. mffTf J^HmvApXhkj^mon^: Xbiiiyj^ialf ir^ipe ra^alj^ts^^sach aa Pevaines
,^apA^J)v^gmert, lAStly«r.h^ve spnie jacobins too, such as Bruue, Real
^ji^jS^fer^* I like honest men of every cqlofir and pajrty,"

-', -r ■ 'I ^ ' ■ 1^^.— . — - — ■ ■ ■■ ■ I . ■■■■■ ■■■■■ ■ a^^i— ^^^

'^'M 'tbe'dilhor W W J^bit MMquiit l*'JHcimti^'muh;kad oFir Very gkMdmnMlt.

8S0 Tbibaiideau's Memoirs of N^potian.

The coiuicU of state was divided into five a^ctiops : Uw^<y>
iuterior, finances, war^ marine or qaval department Tbi^ inipis*
ters were : Talleyrand for foreign affairs^ Abrial for. the deyart-
nient of justice, Bertbier for that of war, Gaudin for the fioanceii
Lucien for the interior, in the room of Lapla<u9t who waa agnst
mathematician, but incapable as a minister. The fpUowinf V^
sage introduces us at once into the consular pr^en^; — .

<* During the constitution of tke year III. the Taikme, the wadai

palace of the kings, was ooeupied by the representatives of tlie neapk,
and the executive directery resided in the little Lnioemboai^ ; wb wm
fL sort of homage paid to the nation* Oa the 19th Brumim^lOth
Nov. 1799), the representatives having been previously reo^vfd to St
Cloud, the new consuls, on being appointed, went to sleep in iifi apfut-
ments of the directors, which, however, were soon found to be too
humble' for the head of the executive. The new constitutidnf of t&e
year VIII., had raised the first consul above all other national authori-
ttes, and had made him, in fact, the representative of the French peeete.
On the 19th February, 1800, Bonaparte took possMsfofl ofdieTinW*
ries, where he fmed his residence. A ifile of canriagcs aet off from the
Luxembourg, escorted by the military, and with mttate playiii|^- Tiie
consuls and their retinue were in. full dresa» but the pnv^le earnsgeB
were few, and the rest were backnev-goaches, the numbers 9i wlucl)
had heen hastily covered over with paper. Th^ first consul )u4
scarcely entered the splendid apartments of the Tuileries, when he
came out again, mounted on horseback, and reviewed the troops io
the court below, thus announcing that military affairs were afwa^
foremost in his mind. Afler the review he received the varions mlna-
ters of state, each of whom presented to him in succession the seen*
taries and ether officers of his department."

The first magistrate of the republic was now installed io the
palace of the kings, surrounded on every side by recollectioDS of
the old monarchy. By a remarkable coincidence, the news of
Washington's death had just reached Paris. He had died on the
14th December, in his modest country-house in Virginia, at the
age of sixty-eight years, after having been conqueror, legislator,
and magistrate, but having remained, at the same time, a citizen
of the country which he had raised to the rank of a nation. The
first consul announced his death to the army by an order of the
day; in which he said that Washington's memory ought to be
ever held dear by all freemen in both hemispheres, *' and espe-
cially by the French soldiers, who, like the American soldiers,
were fighting for equality and liberty,*' And he ordered that for
ten days the flags and camp colours of the republic should be

bordered with black crape.

I - I ■ I ■ I I .1 ... . , ,1,1 .1.11 III II ^-"~^

tioQ of Cesar's Commentaries—* Gv«rr« det Gau/es— with excellent notes. By Jscobio
BoQSpsrte mutt, in bis case, have meant a republican, for certainly Berl'ter ^ ^
dof^rre the appellation in iti odiooi seoie*

Thibaudeau'5 Memoirs of Napoleon. 33 1

miree days afterwards, the first diplomatic levee took place.

The councillor of state, Benezech, who was charged with the

internal administration of the palace, acted as master of the cere-

monieSy with an usher's rod in his hand; he introduced the foreign

ambassadors into the cabinet of the consuls, who were surrounded

by their ministers and the councillors of state. The minister of

the interior received the ambassadors at the door of the cabinet,

mhI tke miniater of foreign affairs presented them to the first con«

sut TIm ambassadors of Spain and of Rome, the ministers of

PrUMia, Denmark, Sweden, Baden, and Hesse Caasel, and the

ambassadors of the new Cisalpine, Batavian, Helvetic, and Ligu-

rian republics, composed the diplomatic body.

It was soon after found that a regular court, with its officers
and its etiquette, were required at the Tuileries. The orgauizaF-
tton of this new court took about two years; it was effected by
degrees, alowly but without interruption. The old regulations of
the monafoby were carefully examined; the former courtiers and
vaieta of the kings were oonaulted and flattered. When Bonaparte
was made consnt for life in 180^, his court, as welt as his power,
were on the same footing as those of a king. Josephine was of
great nse in theae matters ; her amiable and really graceful man-
ners captivated the company, and succeeded in taming many a
bluff and restive spirit. The choice of the ladies who composed
the society of Madame Bonaparte was made by himself, and he
was particular with regard to character; lie wished, above all, for
propriety of manners, and a strict regard to appearances.

The costume was gradually altered also» The Greek and
Roman fashions were discarded, and gave way, first, to the military
costume, with boots and sabre, afterwards replaced by a civilian
costume, with silk stockings and the long sword. With regard to
bead-dress, it was still in a state of vacillation, which drove the
hair-dressers to despair. Some wore a bag, others a tail, a few
wore powder, and the question of powder was seriously discussed
in a court conclave. The first consul himself was against it, yet
it was signified to the frequenters of the palace that the bag and

Sowder, and lace frills, were most becoming and acceptable,
osephine was opposed to hair*powder, and feared, with some
reason, that the next step would be to restore Che hoops« She
disliked stiffness and parade, and would often exclaim — '^ How
tired I am of all this ! I have not a moment to myself. I was
intended for the wife of a labouring man."

At the head of the acts of government, a vignette represented
the republic under the figure of a female seated and clad in an
ancient drapery, with a rudder in one hand and a crown in the
other, with the legend — Ripublique FranfoUe, aouverainetS du

332 Thibwdeaw'j Jifww* ^f Wip^r

Th(^fff^^l^onmaj([J^ con$uL Tbi^ legend w#ib>tf(erfa«iHl0,

mtf^ 'Rfififqisn . Thf. *' llb^ty,. equality, and.iKWWfeigiiAy '•f .iIib
Bf)?P\?i..f^^.4PP^MJi> f<»^o«> ^ tjb]»y Ii44.ioii(r itiniBe difapf«trdl«

4^er the.QCi;upatipa;of (be Tu^oipifia, Uiway.lbottgbNhietliM
£9i\9Ury-|)fm^^. pf Ma)oiAi^Qfif \v.bi€b.hai4 b^albe fa(f(MMrite;rMmit
<|(i .C(eii|»r|^|. 3Q.aapaite«.w9^ loQ huiQ obitf ofimgrMt

r^pMbUpe. ^Ai^^^PS {he ipfimer, royal ffi^idanoesiiieiinillMi^^qiiliiH
^jt<)C^Md VYA9I the ^e^reat apd.mpst cpnvenient. ). The 4flhliMta|(ti

tff^ff^.i^UMW^t prayipig jtba|,(b^<^teaai«hliteldte ofitied t»^
iifj| jpqnAqU. .^(H^fipart^. bpw<evec« ^eebirefl til ihe>«oMBittee,
>irj^^h.v|if0 t^ iHWiM^ia rjq^ortjoui.ithe pi^tiboni ikhajf li€i.«MiuM<'no<
9fiqf»pt f^tl^ipg frpm! t^, people 4nring tba p«M|cid oCiiyioftpe
a^/i.fpr>.ye9r.gfW ita e3(pii^tip|i«.aft€urMWbk^b#tif arew«Nl*tliouid
b^lK^^M ^^ bji^ b^ WPMld giiatefiulJ^.coceiveik < Twoiy«ifs««ftei
t^ %(^8pA^cb|ib<Mvg»,€oiuMl ibr lil9|.ihe!t«ok^iof iiis^<ckm'4MMi»«
r)(yij%../ch^teai| .of Su.Cl«i«4 vrbick >beoMie*(hfiiio0Ai||b-4it|i>
faYparite»4re^i4i^nce« : -t . . i. j. ,•. ^ J' •. 'i,n.*< •''■'
pnrpc tben »igiiiiied that every Suuf% ilKiie ^wttuM^ii&JriiM
aV ^tr. iCloudft after ^hicb the first consul would ffrve public
aiAijIuspqe^i ^bat tbe la^^es. at tbe Tuileriet wouldttooly .ttke|riMe
Qi)pe^jpian|br,oti th§ Uth, and that kk the ii1te^nil'>thei«Me
ap^iitpa^jt^ WQidd be.^hiil uf^^ Xbo audieace»(of fit^ Chyad^be*'
c^fDejcmtpb ira%UQiit^; thrae timesia.week th8re^>ti!|is aidimitf.
of^.^ft^f^ peraoiiAs Md in tha evening* Miadttiria iBoniipatft* re^
ceiyi9(^ HQmpmy' The; firat comul afifMaftiliiatlheilB'CO^
ve^$awni, in which, cafdrtnblea iwara laid louty^aild "Bonapvte
a| Mmf»9 plfo^ed agatue^ .;TbeJuaa<. which |)reGedeMl tb^aiidieiice
was a terrible bug^ar to oiaoiy of those who wished' fed refirit-to
St. Claud in the jnonung* . It i^ well known bow 'fiWtbier
c^triy«(d to .lead the xjld generals of the repoUid to 'cha^h for
th^,fir9ttiilie. He invited them to breakfaat^ and thence took
tbe^4a.tbe.lfivee of the first conaolt whom they foMifl sffcrtii^
fQr..i^cb> whiUiBr .f bey could not w<sll refuse Co followhiiii.

. W^ tvapstinow csatia ^nce at the course pursnedby 'the
various branches of the legislature under the consular gbvera*
nufi^ :\: •■-.■ // .J.' .1' \ - .. . .

•.Xhe^itwohcKuaesof representatives, the legislative bod^i and
the. If ibunat^y ' opened tbdr first sessions in January^ I GfO^*
Rublio.ial;teftt&im was wholly turned towards tbe trifeutrnte; the
oalj&celic of>popn)ar representatbn« The hKxierate repabltcstis^
eYtti.ainon^ those who had aanclioued the revolution of Broiuairci
mastered strong in tbe tribunate : that was their last stronghold.

Oainoti; BenjotiAn ' Constant, 'GitigueTi*/ Mwhi^U, 'tWbktit;
Chisier/ Gramftb, and aihen, tHroiti ^ Bonaptirte described as nie-
taphy«iciMi8* «ndMdologr^§; 'fortndd'the opt)e)sition. Tlie^xe-
cMife|ifoposed<throtlgti iHorat^r^ py6jebt'bf HW <:6ht^hiiii'^Yhtf
mode of prMecldiitg ahd cotiYmlihiMmg' be/lNreenf' tW taifou^
bddiM' which itere t6 ^otictir iulheffo^thaf Wri bf tb^ iVws,
natnely, eonsuh; the emificil 6Fbt^te;thk tribunate; and th6 legi^la-
tive<body; How was a project of faw to be transmitted 'fii^oitt
oti6>to amMier of tb^d^ taridti^i alithoriti^s/ and^htlt formic ir^re
r«Mpiir^d'ibefM-A it could dbtaitrar^rr^l sanction ? Th7^ vei^ fixk\
iMaiake of iegi^tioii Nidtiot be^A profideidfof bytbe i:o^nt-^
tiHioiii: Th^ Mlbtfndm^ts pmpos^d by tlie' dpbd!fi(ltih^ itt' ^h<
tfUMimle werd": fifst^ fi^e day^'at' least to' t)^ ^llo#M'<fi>r ih^'
dnoaWiott'of ii pNiJQCt of liiw^ Anhl'fit^ d1fty§ nk^^' iH mk^^mA
9«p||K>rC ihair itepotX b^foto iNe 4^isl(iti*vid bod5^;^«bd6trffly; kbM
tbfi eiitdfilifeshoyld'preftce the ptt)jid«t^ oflaW b/'a sfati^tbMe
af.4li4^i]i0tif«9 for which' tfaie MW wa$ rie^Uir^dt Airdty; Hiatth^'
legiali^Te'body, and' not <Jh^ekdCtitlve;' flihoiM''fi^ th« d)qr' fbt'
optfniiig ttie dkeuaskm ifoOftHfy^ 4biFt< (he executive' bhoul^' if It
chose, withdraw its project of law altogether; • 'instead 'bff e^-

SiWiig th^ ifidetitiiie tidjourhmetit df the diteussidd ; fiftMy,
tft^an eapeeitol' la^ir should dfetertAirtbth^ 'ctirses'Of th*gdnc^'
wKidb otight to be very rare/ in > wM^h a law wis VCbuired to M'
psaiMid ^ttbof»t the eiisto«aryfdelfly« Th^se'Very tnOd^^t aiA^d*^
i»eiltl> were eemsidtredr by the '^olvemttiem party «» a factibi^ii dpw
position^ The. orAtori in favour -of ih^goverftmcwt ridibulM thfe
ameodiiiefitaj inveighed^ bitterly against Benjamin CoilBtant, fot-
which be waa three times caHed to orders ihade a ftrlstime pmh^
gyrio |0a the first consul » and at last' the project was adopts by
54 Toiea againM 86. This triurarph ought to'hare been saiffllsiekit'
for. tbe ^ecutive^ aad yet the gaveniiiMiit joomalvthe='i!lfdi^illr£ir,
spoka in 4i pteVisb toile of " petty pasaione having an infltiehc^
^* over thei dd^ates, of < thid frienda of order' not being alariti«id
'< by seeing ' 23 iedtvidiials among 60 disposed to diw^rt'the'
" govemmeat in the mostsitnple and hmooeat of nleaiUre^;"of '
** certain. minds atniog at a perfection incompatible with hMnan
'' inatitattona, &c/' In the legislative body the project ^s
paas^ed by SOS votes. againat %3, ; v > .' •

The place of meeting allotted to the tribunate was in Ike-
Palais Rpyal, which was than cftlted* Palais EgaKte."' In* Ithe
preparatory arrangement of the promiies, several leases' were'
annulled by a mere act of authotity; tend some gamMtng«*hoUs^s' >
and brotbeU were sbiit 4ip to makie room for the represeniativida
of the people. Some of the member^ complained of- these
arbitrary acts, and alluded also to the indecency of choosing such •

YOU XVII. NO. XXXtV. A A

.334 Thibaudeau'j Memoirs of Nigwle^n.

a locality, as if to degrade the asAemUy ia the eycaof diepaUac.
A member then rose to order, and congratulated the vetenas pf
liberty on being assembled on the spot of their first tdumpha (the
revolutions in Paris have generally begun in the Palais Royal),
and appealing to the recollections of 1789> said^ that if any
should think *^ of raising an idol of a fortnight^ they voaU
member that they had overthrown a wcurship of fifteen cen-
turies/' The allusion was deeply felt, and the Mamieur fmth-
lished an article headed, '^ On the Roman tribunas aod liioae.of

'France/' in which the latter were smartly lectured on thrir f nir
rity, on the respect that was due to the warrior who had aartad
the country, on Coriolanus,Camillus, the Tarpeian rock, &a.

A project of law for continuing the existing taaesu direct and
indirect, for another year, gave occasion to a warmdebata in .the
tribunate« The principal objection was by no means of a.i>at»e
hostile to the government ; it was that the ways and mfmni did
not appear sufficient for the probable expenditure of .the ioUoar-
log year. The project, however, was adopted by a nujodiy €lC five.
The law for the formation of the ccnirt of cassatioB caa^ HCKt ;
it passed the tribunate by a majority of two €»ly, and was tfanMin
cmt by the legislative body. This was not in oonseq nciHaa of
any jealousy towards the government, but owing to. many fiulls
of form and detail in the project. The executive thea brought
forward a law for the complete organization of the whoifi judi-
ciary system, in which the former {rfan of the ooai't of oasaaUon

• was reproduced with some slight modifications, and the. ^faoie
passed by great majorities J There were to be a tribunal '^40 fae-
miire instance" in every arroodissement, a criminal court in ewery
•department, and twenty'-nine courts of appeal in the chief towns.
Thibaudeau here reflects '' on the influence which habits of hoBiaess

^ exert upon deliberative assemblies, so that it is often easier to make
them swallow an entire code in the lump, than a profed of. law

' technically defined in a dozen articles." Another faiw, by aviHch
the government proposed to exact a toll on the iMridgea oor-
structed by private individuals, was rejected, as was also a .law
to restore manorial or land rents, which had been conAnteded
with feudal rights in the sweeping decrees of the javehitioiiary
convention. The state was possessed of from thirty lo .fovty
Niiliions of these rents, and therefore was interested in- le-
astablisbing the payment of them. The tribmiate rajechad the
project by 59 votes against 29, on the plea that the piopevty
subject to such rents had passed through many hands since their
abolition, and that their re-establishment would open the wuy to
innnmerable reclamations, and " endanger the interests of the
revolution." This was at the best a plea of mdenmity for past

Thibiiinlefttt'f Memoirs of Napoleon. SS6

^poKatioa ia favour of the purchasers. Another law was pro-
poaed to restore^ under certain restrictions, the focuUy of dis-
posiBg of pbrt at least of one's property by will or by donations
tmitt VIVOS. This faculty, which appears inherent in man, bad
l^en Jong and elo^ently discussed in the constituent asseoibiy,
IB oae of tho last debates in which Mirabeau took part. The lo-
ipoltttioaary convention had by the famous law of the igth Nivoae,
j^cor II., actuaily abolished the faculty of making a will, for
Semp, it was said» that the aristocracy should re-establish thereby
.dseuiefuaiity of inheritance. According to this beautiful prin-
cipte, wfaidi is stiU held by some in our own days, no man can
dispose of his own property, and as by another principle of the
aame school oo son has a right to his father's inheritance, the
obvious coasequeiwe is, that at a man's death his property ought
la revert to the whole community. The project of the govem-
.ttMDt for restoring to men the ftculty of making a will passed by
33 against Si votes.

The government presented a plan for the division of the ter-
ritory and the admmistrative organization^ The departmental
oovmciis of administration were suppressed. A prefect in each
department, a sub^refect in the arrondissement, and municipa-
lities all dependent on the executive, were established* Roederer,
in tbe preamble to the plan, observed taconically, '^ The admi-
MStmtion is the business of one man, to judge is ^at of many."
Tbe plan passed the tribunate by 7 1 votes to £5.

These were the principal laws discussed by the tribunate in
ila firrt session. The opposition was by no means of a nature
te alarm tbe goveinment We have said that the people bad
tbe right to petition. Most of the petitions sent to the tiibunate
w«e jefenred to the ministers witiiout discussion. Some mem-
bcvsiiBproired tbe carelessness with which this remaining con-
^tntioBal f^t of the citizens was treated. Benjamin Constant
spoke in favoor of organizing a committee of petitions. The tri-
baneate passed to the order of the day. Petitions have seldom
met witb much attention in a French assembly.

The aession of the legnlative body lasted four months, but
the tiibnnate was permanent, or, if it adjourned, it appointed a
commission charged mA convoking it again when it was neces-
sary* The tribunate was not a convention, it was not the legislature,
it did not originate the laws, it did not even sanction them ulti-
mately : it was a body intended to watch over the other constituted
afttborities. The tribunate made a very modest use of its right of
permanence during the eight months* vacations of the legisbtive
body. It resolved upon having two sittings in each month, the
let and l6th. These sittings were little more Annprojbrma.

A A 2

SS6 Thfbfliideaa*5 Stmoin of N\Ap6l(e6n.

TM exeemive, having established ihe pr^fecta iaeMtytifBfmt^
ittent, rlroitght next of organizing the'yloKce.' Tbi9 k ^ %PMd
tl^^t has^ biecotne famous in contemporary hiftory. Tbe'<iBiiiiriy
^6r pdli^e was a creation of the Directory. Thers btri'<beefi ^
old a police for the great cities ; we fidd "a pMiee #f'<fMi( eatiH
Mi^hed by the Pr^vdt Etienne Boileati, ta fdr baek M'- ta69,
under the reign of Bt; Louis. Thii poiiee^ tMU^'ondODiincflB
'for the cleanliness^ the good^rder, and -security of 'ihf&4tra«ii mmi
'^Iflb^s of public resort. Afterwards, there >w«^ arlfanitMan»^Mie-
Hif irf^^oKtisfx^ Pari^. The pd1it5^ al^4de «rp«i*t'bf lbs haea*«d-
iHrfiifkti^fidh dfe^eh terivn;'aM (he^dflbMcett^saini^T^Abii^flfivdcira^
djrc^cy^ ^^f^'ti-iea l^^ the \(^ AfagistMteii '^boreHwi^^ them-
Ybfe, Dti idnVtM^itr^tiVe pc^ice and ajiMMciali^piAicev ' B«riCi«ks
Ve^^r^^d' for rep^bKcatf France' to hi^enfa ibiMtliiareb «f ^ffirn,
Vfaflt^d a'^tat^ pbTrce, high pdlic^^ e^ secret poU«>)' k sepaf ata^iwd
fi^spbtii^iMebrancfaof the ministry^ wMioutdeflaftottCtiilNifioaty
'eatendit^g oVer' the <vho1e state; watvihing 'th^ fim^imiiaiof «wefy
^ihdiWdti^r, titid x^hich has been«Mldd tb« eye^thie^^gMenmicfit.
'The rMtAsietof poKe^, estabtiMied'by' «laW>iM'th«i4aia«di4ifii4^
'IS^edfoijr; ttad' ho 'OitenJiMe'ag^ntsr'itfndeh hi^ordti«i;,-toi€N«»-
'^pbhded' with the Ministers of the intevkif ai«ft df|tlffice. iTbe
'<^stKtffion of the year VIII. ^aid'Mthitog ttbiMit* aiehiuihb«s»'Or
tAiti(^6iis'^f the mtnisfer^. The ton^aftar-gQ^ertiiiienk^itwA a
mStiT^ter idf police and kept him. - ^flie '\U^^ <fblN:^nih^4he ^dCMr
'admirii^tVation of the depairtment^ saM tiMt ^the iMilimi^aM ^tmr
^ t(.^i^tbht^, exercised Tlie police of^ their 'te8petJtt««rcoifiiiibnes^i(iMit
'1t'aMM;'^'4litit m evety tdwti of lOO^OOO* ifirhiiUibnfta>Ud«lMMe
^Xbiit^fo^iy Paris; l^yon^, Marseilte^, mA Boiide«ua)|<ihei^*Ab«id
'tl^acoUiHiisfary-geu^ral'of pol[c^/htfm^'(mdc4''hitt
for each district, and that he would receive drde^adireiMl ftonuiile
h^ihisf^eff police; smd that at l\iri»there''Wo»M btaiwpfefielt of
' pbire^/ Ha^ng under Miii coitin^firari<esin'ea€lin«fitblst<wdv#TaMi-
fficipsNtie^ or disftriets of the capitttt.'' 'The'gmidaAMiie^iicis
'placed^ at the dtsposal of the minigter of'poliee> Bbucb^.'tiiRBs
"niiiiiirternhonght of extending the action of tbe-fi^ic^rbeyoiuLdll
precedent, and his ideas fyiMd fflMynr with llhe "ftrttieonlidy'ivipo
: ^k4 a'iVeUMes»'^poit thi^ point. A» fi»r tlas^ ipnsAet affipdk^ of
''iMftidilycff' Parts, Dubois, hfe told the eittsenain^axort^ of'.|MPO-
clamation, thsft tie \NMild waftehviVer riieiit 'secunQfi^^thmnUNby
Mtiiit propertkM f <^ that be would ^protect the libtr^iolnwdiiihip,
^Mre^ltUW^ of dress, and, above al)>the liberty.-of pleaskMre.'!" * >•
'^^i !Mltlk^« branches of the ^adfliinistratio* reeer#ed«<ireib inipiibe
^'Ufldef the coniularigotemmienr. Thefinawoesi wfaidi battibaen
rleft'b^ fh« DifiMVaiy^in the most^eonfuaed state^ wereiAolallyiti^
'i^r|«Miaed by'OliiiliMb; vtrict order iiDd «doiiOH9y; aiUL ra^jaM

TbibaiHleau'^ Sikmo^rs of ^ap/cJ^pw ,9^7

^r|mfncA^^\ir«r« ellfari^ed ; tbe treasury bagan.ta fill a^^in;.^ the

bank «f ^Feande waa ^a^t^Uiahed^ all ibe public a^uriti^s fp3^.

^Ibeiiatbitrary oieoaiire of forcad loans was abaodoped* > Tl>e

&'atiCdnhilihad already^ soon aftejr the IQth Brnwwef pfOMs^d

attd) ohlfAied of the legiala^ye commiasioii the aholitipi^.af 4b«

.crrliEil law ^f the bostagQft passed in the year VH./b>y wbicb tbc^

-anidsiofindivkluaU were in pmon and their property se^nesl^^fl

bocanse.thayi were felated to eimgi^ants ; and he iminediatc;!/! sent

coofiera .io> <>«ila$ ibeir pfisoiis.to be opened, and tbi^irprjopert^

iDaafored witb<mtteire^. - He bjipselC vaent to the Ttunph, ;iiid tio^

flAieibb$tag0a there; o^Mifiiied th^t»^ i^i. upju4^ W ^^yipH^RWf^

Aeth ,of /their ifX^erty, bis tirs^ 4^l^[ w^^ ip irestprp ij, to^^ein,"

ThiaaiaS one of .the Sm^t ttioiBentsof Bp?iap^rtj?y,ii^. XpI^

.fvifeats were hex* leliei^d from mrvmllanc^s tlwe v^^KJ/^we^

.'mlaclF were. a) lowed t^ leturo^ upon, the ni^re d^claralipi^ \i^^^P

IberlocblavllKtfHy^ that 'ibey promised ^deli^.to ^/le cpoi^tiju^tfon.

y&0ai€Hof4ib$»fwies|9 refused io niake.tbjUcl^clsfra^oi?, WiiiR^rgp-

.mnifiientiooitftibe paips* of • j^xpUining fq, tfip9ii.,in ^b^f.ojf^^l

jteiioal^Alwt .tbisL dieclaratiin *\ m;*^ a ^;mp)j^, ^ivjJL i^c^t^ ,W?A ^rWP^

^Boil)a idigi^tii^oatb ; that they rwe;re opt re<mired tp^^p^v^^i^ipp-

pi^, or)dsfeiid. ibe^ aotaal insi(Hutioivs.^ ^but^Qer^lyf^ot^tp^.f^ppf^se

iheBUM • Tbe> honour of a funeral aacti of a sepuldfiral^ V9^vm^^

Mtaro ardeivailabe^ivem to. the remainjiiof the )ate:Pfpe ^^^^l.,

•whoiUa^iftiedal Vatoce the year before. ? ^^ I,t,Jlie/^af^j^)V^,jd%*

Bii7i9€^abe>£fenii;h:mti^ri' J^na^a^te .said^ f.' t^^ |pi^si^]y,,t^e^e

•«brjia(ofi/eonfideratie# on^n. old niarii re^pectabile, by, h»?rflii?/qr-

Iwba^bofaadifilMd^ae of tfafs ^|i9Atoo)Pe& ^i^xi,^Tihij^i^jK\ip

badibeeoifor amwi^filt ftb§ ^n^my o^FrapiQeyibacf^uie j[^.7¥^,)ie|d

aeli83i(byiiitfaoaai)iivbOiaarroAi9ded .hin), ai|d, wbo bi94 lA^fm>^^yfW*

4ag0iof^bM^M{ealitilefl9.".- .* '..'•. it i,,. > mji.;,-, j-,.>. j^.i

.. thANifJtAi6 Ki!!^. pacified. The c^fifs »P<^^ t^.V.^n^^f^f^l^f-

Mtry.IKAiillchanip^ .liOMrai^)^ .3fC<> ,9»gdo;.tbeif,:^bnHMipf{;

fieoiigeaiGiidoiial laid dotvn his arm^ihiit i^efiise^ ^iffljf|{^Hf-

g{9ice-tk>htltt cottHttlav goaemment : b^ wafi^,^o,>Yed,: li^,Jifl^e

I ffiiuioarfltid faired to Eiigtend. FranA^.Mia;S)nojf,m^^HK(fit

• -^Cbjfariba (first ^n^r for leigbtyiaacsi .i ,:.' .;:; \ntf\ y.' nvi-vmi

to iOf»4l(be, astwiialiMtg oaiiH^ign of .FNfol«qgo,,it^is^ii(jijp^^Mri l^mp*

-(mfiido:^ apeak>< foR ^e^zx^\M\Qyi'v^,y^i]ii^^l^\^^i^^

^AUniDMrfe theiQivtJ adoiuiisti^aiUoi>. of ihei&i^tt/cqiatlllM .:' Iirfrfi.f'.

({ijrShvnliinbcfiof tke ipolitioal jonfn^ W.Faris yf^^^t^^n^itjii^*

teen; .aadr ifae nsiatater of poVico/ikiia^ ordered, dpt. t^^lFp^v^y

liiofffii iUI jonruals whtcb eboald rn^fX ally <^' ar 4i<^la /epPMrTIft the

'sodiil contract, te tbia sovereignty, of. tbo^peopkf^ and.th^!g)^ipf

thalfireacb ormieK, or oflfbnaiva io the goverii^ietitsi aqd ii9tip||8|

addfalltca ta tbe vepublic^ eyen^ aneb arti^lf s)abp»bi tbe

3dS Tiubaodeau'i Memoirs of Nap0kon*

extracted from foreign journals^ should be inimtdHila^ ^P*
pressed." Under such vague ternia the government might
at any time a pretence for suppressing any journal that if ch
The Mtmiteur proclaimed itself the only official joomal.

" The first consul made the Moniteur the soul and the force of
governnient, its organ of communication with puhlic opinion at
and abroad. It was the most dreaded of all triboaals. Its politieal
articles were often virulent against the enemies of the first eonnl;
they expressed what the govenunent wi^ed to be bdieved. fir was
the buainess of sound criticism to find out the object aimed a^ to ^ia-
tinguish truth from falsehood ; for, if vulgar readers understand to the
letter all they see in the oi&dal journals^ disoeming persmis know thai
in most oases those journals contain nothing but mutilated tmth» or
positive falsehoods, which the cabinets thins useful to their poHcy.** —
{Le Cottsulatt vol. i. pp. 408, 404.)

. This is a frank confession^ and yet we find Napoleon at St,
Helena saying that there was not a single sentence in the M^mi^
temr which he should wish to see struck out..

A journal called l*j4mi des Lois was suppressed on the report of
Lucien Bonaparte^ minister of the interior^ because it hsMi ridt-
Gttled the Institute, or Scientific Academy of France. This was
a curious sort of offence. The minister of the interior exercised
the police over the theatres ; no play could be performed vrithoat
his authorization. A play called Edward the Pretender, by
Duval, was performed with great success. Bonaparte went to
see it on the second day ; be disliked the allusions ; the plaj was
suppressed, and the author was advised to travel ; he f'viant to
Russia. Another play, in which three valets appeared togelhar,
was reported by some officious person to be intended as »Ganc»-
ture of the three consuls ; Bonaparte, in a passion, osderad &e
author to be sent to St. Domingo : it was found, however, that
the play had been written before the epoch of time ooBaohite^ avd
the author, after having been sent to Brest, was recalled to Fari^
where Bonaparte made him amends for the mistake*

The re-establishment of the cburch forms an impoftant event
in the history of the consulate. Bonaparte took frequent oppor*
tunities of dedaiming against the philosophers of the eighteenth
century, whom he called ideologists. In his Italian campaiga of
1800, and just before the battle of Marengo, havingtdiett poa^
session again of the city of M ilan, he cf dered a Te Deua lo be
sung in the cathedral, which he attended biosself with gieat
ceremony. He had written the day before to the two conaal^
Us colleagues* at Paris : ** Let the ath^sts of Paris say what
they fjease, I shall attend to* morrow the performance of the Te
Peiim in the cathedral/' He afterwards summoned the paR>»

Tbibaudeau'j Memoirs of Napoleon. 330

cbial clergy of Milan, on the 5th of June, 1800, and told them m
a kmg speech that be was attached to the Roman Catholic reli*
giofi ; that be would protect it ; that the vexations which they
had experienced at his first entrance into Italy in 1796 were not
sanctioned by his approbation ; that he was then but the agent of
the Directory, who did not care about religion ; but that nowj
having full power, be was determined to use it for the protection
of the church.

**^ The modem philosophers," he said, ** strove to persuade the
Ffenoh that the Catholic religion was the impiaeable enemy of all de*^
laosmtic syvlens; kenee line ernel persecation whieh the French
rtfttUic carried on asainst religion aad its miaiBters ; hence sll the
horroFB which weighed upon that unfortunate people. • • .In any state
of 8oeiefty> no man can be virtuous and equitable without knowing
whence he conies and whither he is to go. Mere reason cannot fix our
ideas on the subject ; without religion we must be groping continusdly
in the dark ; there can be no sood morality without religion. A
society without religion is exposed to all the shocks of the most violent
passions, and falls a prey to internal discord, which must infallibly pro-
duce its ruin. France, instructed by its own misfortunes, has at last
opened ber eyes ; slie has discovered that the Catholic religion is the
saest-ancbor which can keep her steady in the midst of political agi-
tation ; she has therefore recalled it to her bosom. I do not conceal
from you that X have mainly contributed to this good work. I can
certify to you that the churches are again opened in France, that reli-
gion has resumed its ancient splendour, that the people see with plea-
sare their old pastors in the midst of their flocks. . . . As soon as I can
conJtaun?cate with the new Pope (Pius VII,) I shall, I hope, complete
the work of reconciliation. . . .i wish that this expression of my sentt-
menis should be perpetuated in your memory, and I approve of its
being made pubfie through the press, in order that my intentions may
be knowii^ not only to Italy and France, but to all £urope.''->-(2^ Con*
'aAil, vol. i.-^Pi^s Justificafwes, at the end.)

This address was accordingly published, not only in Italy, but
^ Coutauces, in Prance, by Agn^s, official printer to the arron^
dissemeui, year IX. On the same day in which this speech was
Mivertid, Bertbier, in a proclamation to the people of Lombardy,
Mrid that ** their enemies, while boasting of their zeal for reli-
g^n, had called heretics, and even infidels, into Italy/' alluding
^ tber RnssianSy the English, and the Turks, who had joined
Austria in the coalition of 1 799- Such was the language held
by Bonaparte to the Catholic clergy of a country essentially
(^sdiolie, for Italy had ever remained so, notwithstanding the fivst
f reach comjuest. Public worship had never been proscribed or.
^*>t«iTupled there as in France. The situation of the latter country
^"^ essentiaHy different, and required greater caution ; accordingly
^find Bonaparte's language after his return to Paris considers*

340 Tbiliaua^au*i mm\h ofmij^ii^*

My ihdtKfied. Tht Gartiolic cl^ftrgy thtrtttWvA* %«rt 4fMtA
« c^iJtihitfoiialists/? vrho had av-orti'iaHegia^ioe' <b tfa' wptfbife,
ttHd«t' ffeiftactory/* u4ib had reteerf Wdo«o,^ttd bee* perwet^^
in tsOA^dquence. 'The bishdps 6f the latter prirty h«d' ma^Vy
ennignited; Th^de tvo sections of *« cler^'^wclre «t^ op*»*os-
fffhywiftb eaefc other. The corisuhr goteWanent py^itectcd tb«
^ntOn» of tooth, aUo\f«d the coiistiiulio«alMt» to p^^mik Btrwiet
m thi churches, and* winked at the refractories ^^rfontiiftg thmts
in oratories or chapels, but did not recognize officially" ^iltar
ttirty aa forttmig a diureb. . .. , . ......

■• 1* the tatgef work before us we'find tbeftrilonfiiig^sairtittkd
mumMMy of reRgidn tti fVauce at (be thfie, iticMiug Bd^iitf^«M'
fle-dfepamitetttS-oftb* flbfn*: * ' '![ ' »-^'''";-> -'

^ ' ' tJathoHcs wfc'6^ followed the conslitutiohal priests . .'. . 7,5€to,«0

'Ca&holies who foltewed the refractory priests 7^60©/) W

Pbrsoiiff bOrn fit cBthoKe parents, but following no
mdde of> wordbip, either tlirough indif&iwnoe, or
looacooantof cfae mterruptiou and persecution -of
Mligi^n' over a great part of tte country • • . • - ••;• 13,00Q,0QQ
.V^X9ovfB belonging to no religipn whatever, by their •..

manner of thinking or acting ..,.-..•-•.. t .- - •• • 4,000,000
Protestants of various communions, Jews, &c 5,0o0,0DO

3^5,tH)0,OtfO

- - - Mill ■ 'gas

*' We must not be deceived," observes the author of^is stateinent,
^'by the Votes and testimonials which were held forth by the brgftna of
•Che consular goverhment ih favour of the re^establifihraent of ^wrtAiCwoj^
Mp^ The government well knows how to give the impultfioihin acieli
4tMe8* The tr iiih is that^ as in an uifinity of parishes aJl p9^ the isoanttry
rllKffe had been no reHgious worship perfonned for many yuus^adt-
^io^s. ideas had become, very muck weakened in the> niibd» of the
people." — Le Consulat, vol* iL p. 169» i ., j ».;•

; . Afi^ the battle of Mar engOf Bonaparte bvitad the . pope to
nttter into negociatioos on the subject of religion aud the cbuth
ilk Frabte. At the same time, be ordered General Murat* to
rMtei-e Rome and its territory to the papal authoritiea. The
'pop^ sent the prelate, Sphia, and Father Caselit, a tbeolpgian, to
Parid,in ord^r to confer with tbe first consul^ wl|0 appointed^
oh' his part, Joseph Bonaparte and Cretet« councillqrs of^state,
and Bemierf the Vendean curate. The negociatioos for a conci^ilat
.commenced ^ but uumeroua (Ufficulties presented theoiadifief.
Toe first conaul bejcanie impatient, and threatened;, tbe )i0tl»^r3
jraiaed acruplefij quoted precedents^ wrote to Rome, and the afirtr
macleaio progreaa* At length Cardinal ConaaWi, tbe pope's le-
cietaffy of state^ aet off for Fans \ and, on his arrival, had aeveral

t^ iQQl^ordli t were jm>w . dU c^9aed in t^ro^^t. Thit • 6fm^ t cwf ul
to^tod.op ibe right of 9piK)iatii^ the bia^^pSybut fbi^ pUp^
vrittlQ bealiow tba cAnonic^il institution. ; TbQ'Fre<icb.|ifiSQflift|oA9
wi«kied> to fix a tejrm, be^oad vkbich the pope .$boi|ld no^ir(»(]u^9
tbt iimestUwfe; but the court of Rome, was dfllerf»iaeci.Hppiii<bt
full prerogntiye, suid, the fii:at, coq^ul wa9 .obliged, to^.i^i^l^
Xhe ibijdbi^a ivere to appoint the parp/Qbial ol^gy^ i^^P) Mjthn
oppr^bmioo .of the govemuieott A new divi^iou.of £r«0Qft<int0
dioceses and parishes should be made^ and tb^. ewtip^ bj^bpfwi
?wb»lli«i conatitational or 4r€ifractoryr^b^uJd,vA9^tie tbi^r s^vM, if
SQfuired toi do- M^4 in coi^eqM^Qf;e of jtbes^e nftjVi arrangwpwnfti^
The churches which had not beenjspW H^fr^. to.»)l^,,i3Qf(|fHi|dil9
th|!( hiahops. .The government, would take care that. th^ bif^ps
and pavocfaia) clergy should have suitable sajliarie^^ 2^nd,:pftU8
persons should have liberty tp make fouiidations in 6(V0Mr of the
church. The Roman^ CatMic faith was. acknowledged. to be
that of the cdffsutar govecnment^ and of the maiorityof Franch*
men^'lts worship to be public^ but subjtci to the police rt^gula^
tions whic^ the government should judgie necessary: Th« po^e,
on, his part, dechred, '* for the «ake of peace,** that neiA'er.he
nor his successors should disturb the owners of church pYo-
per,^y which had been sold during the revolution. The bishops
wary tn have a chapter in each cathedral, and a seminary in
each diocese; but the governmeiit was not boupd to mfside
jo^'^ih^m. I^P mentioB was made of th^ rere3tablisbipiQn^,{of

Spvba$Up orders^ to which th^ first, cpnsul wa;i deci4e4\y WUlf^
Ufiiig these negpciations, which wer/a carried on. whh gufftut
ptivmiyy.Boiiapaiie elicited the s«nlimenia ofsewnral of ibe Gomih
dttojWiof. state. on the aiil^ct of religion* Withon^ >ofl ihmb,
]pi»rbftpa^ Thibaodeau hima^f^ he had a long and curioos tMV^P^
sation, which is reported in the Mimoires. * '^ ' "i

•^ «'^^<hii tbe'^iac Pvairial, the councillor of state> -Ni '"'j HM^ at
.Mflhiaison. AfVer< dinner die flrsl eonanl took him. alone* into- the
•pai^^.aild ltd: the coaveraation to the sidject <tf.religkn. . Hm-ytipci^
arilength ags^nst the various systemp of pbik^aopb^raf'.bujfiiblv;
lyojpship^.on deism^ on natural rdieiou, &c« AH that, sJi^J.ji^jW^
nothing but ideology. He repeatedly style^ Garat th^ lead^ prf ,tl^
K^eplogists. * Listen/ said he : ' I was walking about thi^ w)ii^. snot
'fast Sunday evening; every thing was silent aroiwd'me, wni^. the
•*<rtind 'of the dock of the churcB of Ruel all at once situA' iii^ 'ei/r';
I fth strongly afl^ted'; for such is the power of first imjpressibni^*^
df \^ecatk>ib I then said to myself, tdiat infiuenee I3ie^' thtngfs m£t
faalte u^rt annpleand creduloua ineni Let your pbilbfifd^^hirr^yuur
ideelogiata, aaswer that. There must be a teligienfinrt^ie'fMliphr;
bi«t^^s<adBgiett.iaiiat be in the handa of the govenamenfe lALtpcemt

34£ ThilwttdeauV Mtmom cf Hmjmhan.

filky bUMpy enigraiits and in Ibe pay of F«nghnd| lead te clergy «^
France. We must deslroy tbeir ittfliiefioe ; and £ir Uus tbe aud
of the pope is requiied. They nuat vaeaee their aeea^ or tha
will supersede them. We will declare that, aa Uie Catholic i^ig
that of the majority of Frenchmen, the exercise aad vocayp of ^
must be legally organized. The first consul ajppoanta fifqr
bisliops, the pope gives them the canonical inadtution* The Ui
appoint the curates, and the state pays them* They must take an
of fidelity ; those who refbse shall bie transporled. The pope coof
Resale of church property; and thus ceasetimea the gepdwie. TTaof
wil) sing in the ^uraes SohmmftH EemptMiemm^ The buff is ims
aarived, and there are ody a Ssm eaprcseioBe to dltor. l^uyle nM
say thoi I am a Paf^t : I waa a Molnmaeiedao in Bgjppi ; andl I
be a Catholic ber«^ fov the good of the p^f'^* I «> XK>i belm
religiona.*«..But the idea^Mfa God...* And then raisioK Ua b
towards heaven, * Who then made all this V he exclaimedl N<
now spoke in reply, after having listened in perfect silence> .
discuss the necessity of religion would be loreign to tibe di
question. T wfll even grant the utility of a public worsmn. a
worship must have priests ; but priests can exist without fotikun^* a&
easfcodied dertfy, without a hierarchy ammated by one s{rir&, AttSog
at the same &aL A faienurehy eonstitucea a power, — a oolosaal po^inr^
Were the hierarchy to have for ita head the chief of the> atiosv fit
would not be half so formidable 9 bet, as leng aa it asltaoiriedgea Ae
iu head a foreign prioce, it ia a rivid power. Th«» sever wag w^
favourable an opportunity as the present to effect a gfeat vdligioiia jre^
volution. You have the constitutional priests, the ajpo^olical vifura
of the pope, and the emigrant bishops in ISngland, ana many aba4ie|iA
each 01 these three divisions. Citizens and priests^ all are disunited « w^
the great bod^ of the nation looks on all this with total indiflbrence/
« You are mistaken, the ctei^ exists; it will ever exist as Ibiig as
there is a religioos feeling in the people : and fh» refiffioaa feeKn|( tr
inherent in the people. There have been repuMies, demoeraides, all
that, we see, but never a atate^ without seligioii^ widiout wotdUp^ oMp*
out priests. Is it not better lo-ori^ffe Aepubttc wm ships tot fern
the priests under propee discipline, than to leave every thi^ et
random? The priests now preach against the republic; oiig|iiip#.^
transport themf No, let us bind them by proper r^ilaUoivmietij^a
then win tliem over to the republican government.' < x ou will i^fX
win them over sincerely. The revolution has deprived them of theis
honours or their wealthj— they will never forgive that ; they wil
always be in a state of war i^inst the new institutions. Scattered aa
they are, they will be less dangerous than when organised mi

united * ' Shall I do the very reverse of what Ifenry FV. Mh'

< Those were difierent times. Foe my part,, if there ie to be a nafttiMMl
religjui>n^ L should pre&r Protestantism* We aae madvmore fovounUy
placed than £ogland or Germany were at the time of the refecmatisib
in the present state of minds, you have only to a^ a word»i popeiy
is overthrown^ and France becomes Protestant.' < Yes,, one hauofi^

TiuhuiAtmU M^emom of Napokan. 345

bttt Ihe other batf remains Cathcdio; and we tball hare qoarreb and
caatCensiociB ivithout end. Why provoke resistance on the part of the
d^^isy <^ the people t Enlightened persons wiU not rise against
CmrnoliciBro, because they are indifferent. I avoid therefore much
opposition ai home; while abroad I may, by means of the pope\ . . •
aim here he stopped. ' Yes, but at the cost of other sacrifices which
-vrBi tnake yoa dependent on him* Yon have to do with a skilful anta-
gonist, who is always stronger against those who keep on terms wrth
hwBii tbta% against those wb» have broken with him altogether. Now
^wury thinjgamieiBra smooth and fair; but when you think you that haw
donr wil^ the pope, yon will find yovrseif deceived.' ' My dear
fyioA^ there is.neithet sincerity nor belief among men* • . • There is
nothing mare; to take from the clergy. ... It is now a purely poli«
tiflal a&ir* . . • Thinss are too far gone, and the part I have takes
appears to me the safeet.' ' Why, certainly, as the bull of the con-
cordat is arrived, all that I can now say is perfectly useless.'*

Thus the conversation ended.

On the 26tb Messidor (15tb July, 1801) the concordat waa
signed by Cardinal Consalvi, and was ratified by the pope on the
14th August following* Soane days alterwaxdsy. tb« fint cotMul
co^uaunicated ta the eouneil of state assembkd the articles of
the concoidat^ and said that there would be fifty faisbops wmi
aboutsii thousand curates; that be had regulated also the concerns
of the Protestants. " The Calvinists have their metropolis at
Geneva, and there is no difficulty about that. The Lutherans
shall have a synod at Strasburg. As for the Jews» they form a
nation apart^ which interferes with no other sect, and they are in
too smaU a number to meddle with them." He then broke off
the council^ without having asked a single opinion upon any arti-
cle of the concordat; indeed he had clearly hinted that be stood
nt^ ia need of tlieif assent The eoncordat was considered as
b^ng wiidiitt the attf ibuttons of the eiieeutive. A project of law>
boMrever, was laid before the tribunate and the legislative body to
regulate the es»cutioo of the articles of the treaty as well as the
orgimiaation of the Protestant worship. But the first consul
Wttled first for the renewal of one-fifth of the members of the
tribunate^ when most of the opposition were turned ouL In
April, 1802, Portalisy after a long preamble, in wlwh bespoke of
the necessity of religion,, of the advantages of Chrietianity, asser-
tions whicb fow would have tbouglit of disputing, said at last,
wilh gveat frankness, " The CalboUc religion is a powerfui
sprki^ which the goAremmeot most make use of, for fear that
others should take possession of it." He also said thut a change
of religion had become impossible in France, *' not because the
clergy aad the citizens had any eiitraordiuary attachment for
Cmholiciaai, but because there was do church property left to

344 Thib^iideatiV Mm^rs of^H^dH.

offer to the pri^W itt ord^r tb'^fcriltNre^ thtfAl^M^^iW^'ujjl^
liTerarchy and their discipline." Th^ ptt^^lst'of'feW fMft^lriliN
out disciusion; 78 voted fpr it, and 7?ga^/^| ^l^., J^^cji9^ Qoaa-
piurte and Jaucomt carried tbq vote oC pi^ UibiMHtie.|tp,{(b^v4MitT
llHbAre bodj. Liioaexi spioke Isealously in lafaiir^«i(^jlb«apliK>)Mt^
whieb was adopted by £i28 votea againtt/fli^iioTfaeifcjaiBdasdaitiM
became-law. " ►.,..• .j ..,.:n? v>v"'I on -^ui^ii^ii i«.:.

Oti Easter Sunday the lia^ of the^ conc^dttt^^'AoMllMtf pt^
^foimed; On that dBV the consuTr; settal[ora;!iilH(iitiHi9rs^0f sM^,
the dipiomatic body, and M'x\\em^t^mi^(^,W^^

^repaired to the CatTieA<6f ^^ofrf P|^^^

The new bishops tooK the oaj|h3, .ipa '^iAiB^
the general peace of church and state. On his return tne^rsl
cto^ul «ii(ked Oen^tft IMlbrav uli«l'fe|e thbugbt oft tbeiobwradny.
\* It>:\fas! a fi»e mumm^y/' gn^affl^J iafn^ebeditlfaeddll^9 i^*k
fwanled only the presenea of a millioii oR bwwiwfadubMeafaem
<ktUed 111 des^lroyuig thttt /^^hicfr i^u^'^nd ^mm^^Hms^MakM^
JDeimas^ having' f epeated hi^ sq-ietdres im^^^tUeicppcaaMbsiiJirdfttwt
4a9tJe«iled« Thefirotcotudil flrtktHJf'<Hia<iiiddMle-9»Qpi(Barpp,BKkD
tta^ a Pfoteaiaitt) ^vbedfer'hfe''j0roUtd/no«r.;^Mftn«i9i't MiJ^bo^
dendml.-' << Aiid why?'' «< TheMidiiiig^'ftia!^ sqjt^it^Hesqd^
'After. ail, ^provided y^ «i€t mrt appoilit tfao^ipeopfe ta>UemiA*
«ide8<<)&<feimi^ or your-cooks^.l 4>bre tidtia Btmwadboatg^'^Hap^
ikad;thfl'prifii^ <rf apeafctng bluq^y ialittfagc0cnit>ofiliik>hdb w
penBpntfl actachmcniittio lioiixvLpjaile^H^^Mhfnm^
miniary. wcre'always ibe 4iidst<^v^M'ta'rflQfchx(^NiCK|i^]f>od r.
> Tk« first eoh8uirbUtiMnii^rouii«bffiuUitJD^4»enco^
«iecutio« of the conMnrdafy bttt^tbit tinmi6iej^biainfnBa|iiftdbible
ppMfeiV bi« iiibli ^^tlli attd'the'^peffeclD itt
with which he vegaMediiiti&H^hbU' offaagohiciit »8/hi|niliffeib]
Biire/etiabled Mm t^'sun^aiA alh ''Uowstitdlkftii^^
tory 'priests' nivdtbisbopsr^ papal legate,) thee oouKtlj^SJloinsiiilwIf,
att vifkit ^Itgenl lo betid befoi^eihis^dieWraiiitaUoiiib »|it bnriflilK
obeyed by 'iMith 'priests iornd laynien in <aiL'^6etenBitil0 adttetB,
ahhou]|b he protested' tluit lie did tiotJiiitiVfera< tritdrtUefo bilirf«
^Bot tiwa word hiust thisy 'Mli^r'in'Tispanimmd^^
Didntyordb ttny act in 'di#elwdfM«e to^thfr'^gidationspyMf^.
.Tba^ AbM Fotif nier> tm bU emigrtfAl/bbtfiiig ^odfibcttie attuMib
'iaa seimm against lb« adttinl'^ystMly was ^wstfiirdisi^vil alHir
0flehsive ^rmo^s if^%fefou4i4'ttUyMghil'|]^fieTaiil»^«ia0iM
i^ pr^f^ct bf pblite to a' hia<ilio«se. - He^tivtis ^AsmmhPJ^wtA
from Frtrnce^ anrt> removed to the- dttadel. oi^^\iM^%MA\ Ckniiaal
'Fssch' obtained his liberktiOii< Tb^'^^ciirAte'of'SlbrRotl^ baviag
refused to perform the fiuieral ^eri^ce ov^ tbe^bsiijp 4t^Wfik

r|.>w«$i several^ .reprioHMnded, and the Archbishop of PaH3
c^^oreld hi«k tobO/SUspeiKlfd Atom his functions for three months^

" ' ■'^aTie tritft hutheytity was often at ▼ariiance with the ecclesiastical tfrt-
tbittfCyJiiMhfeh hf'A^gre^ attetnpted to call i» questioti all tliat had
UiMm!4!qn0i&aimg the fetoliitfioo» and tried to embvce again old nuAii
amiOiiKisBd ngiitaiiabolislied'hyt the hnfs^attd toiieriiW'nues^ceddiiet
and usages no longer suited to the state of opinion in France*! ..Tfa^
fiff^ ^(fmill) • had' ,mif^ rto do ,ta .YsMntaija. tbiS equ^UyrMim, h^^nithe
J$*»a Wi 1^ i^bw^^^-- Wifh.auy.otb^ .^^W i*^ x^^rgy ,woidd. ^Wi
MVffi ^fSt^W^ its.fQrn^ prepppder^uice, and b]K>ught onfreabifcala^
WmlLw^ti^^^^^ T^'iy JP^'f^ate^ and priests really api-

niatea!tDwa spirit of peace imu, cli^nty. there was also a considerable
mSSSir *of lAWbiiltfiis mk ^nitfek knd iiilrigtiers, ' t^W wonld have
JJHjaHMId^W'alifriBrd^^ ^ •' r ' • ' '^^

/(ilanoiderjld (IrevcfQtilbis spirenliiig of faM^ address ii* uihich:pidi«>

latfi t^o^ftbeftniked^ivp witb'relifioni Iboitninisleriorthe inteiidi'

snsitedQifduhrfs/tOijiU the fx^ttds^ not to allow? the puUicaliim^of

*ii|j3BivhfiyBg'eddres8iid totihe peojple'byjftBlj authority .whatsoevtei*,

ivitbtKi^lktictqiptobAtioit^ The pastoral instnucttoos/atidimihA'-

«da«5^jqv;lli|ifges^-oftthlstbifibQ|»s^(o likeir dtoQtaiiiil, wdreinotfes^

^oSptiA fmnrithis oodeix With suohlnteabsJt/was'certiiiBly ea^to

JceepeibQi<ir)erg^ nsiiotal Aibniidsiofy^ and- we d6 not wondec«K

MmoUon jbseptjng^^'at St^ Hplemii. tbtft ibe hiad never , regretted

^vUg'kigiiedftber^toncordat. W hy should ?he ? Has power was

mmmki€iMAei(saicne9whfbrii$ig!^H0^ tbettai^ f ttetnptalt

3riifiinj(.6i^ fresfsitottce'iiVBb eruabed. in. 4iti Mstaolf The oteigyi e^

a body,^ipcoiied>'eyfet)aftef)«lo€tle to bimi iti ike ^strene. They

aiiiiflieibiHflftrin raiBi«ig^^thei:doosimpik^ ' theii-iaddf esses to'liim

jAh i diftyent ioeoisiettt wMte sufibieHtly latidatoryv ' Eveft wheiDfae

xfiteranrab 4|«afDdiledif«[slb tkmfope, hitist of the Fueiiob bishopp

HnircklolUoafdves vrn'theatdetol thk-t€u^^

-:YBMe,;Men^€kr^r9tb*Tbefmiddr^ AovX^i extolled the ooncordat

«Wiiitf(tb0rfiilisfi<gltseiou8 ikt.of th4 donsftdar/goteff^

.^[httered i^ether tfa^acatbeifed braiiohtis of the Obfistiftn seJ^ioB,

.aiHlibBS rditofed^be dtitfs ;of :tb^ Gfospel -overthrown dunog tta

.y«iM af'>Barb&visini Tbat:eternbI.alQriiiit)r o^natious bas ags&n

-imiidi^lBibdoien^ronidiev' The Ghnatiem of. Rome end tboae^f

Hoi^sbuifj am>a^iii beoone bfolbretf at; ihe, voice of tfao chief of

fSwmits, >*EMgioitB -jmHA^rnrnfif a^ .^ell «s poti^ica} iaiibliastti,

nAef beiigibyAunisiptetaecul^itand perseeiltedi have disappeared

iilniivei^<itogBther >mlh the •Qonspiriki^ie^ and the sacrileges of.revK>-

lltilioiia^fttnpe^ XheJiw wbM:ht!pr/9tei;ts>^ad Ihe Gospel whiieh

ifioifsofci^ lineoHiridit bave joined . bends foi* the happiness of France.

:i'i''if^t\ .VsutlpUtosopby hasag^in foutid its natural aux,ibary» and

ifatjathiiait/ driar0tiriiwiO!i£roQ)'ih^t0ii^le>.bi^.stAll uioe left for r&-

346 .Thibaodeatt'f Memoirs ^f Myo^MH.

peatance. Fabe phtlo9oph j has do mora influeooSp and tha ayv-
Jem of abstractioiis has vanUked before tha appearancaeof tnilii.
' If I had a province to chastise/ said Frederic the GreaU ' I
should put it under a government of philosophers.' The philoM-
phers whom that great man here meant, sfaaU no longer cbaftise
France^ because France has also a great man \AkO baa aauuned
the direction of her destinies/' Living aside some ^vf the flat-
terj and flourish of the above passage, \m certainly Chiak Chat die
'Concordat was a prudent and beneficial act of fioaaMits*a gowia*
meat. Supposing even that only one*faaif of the Fr^nokpeapie
irere still attached to their religion^ was it not wise and jost to

3niet dieir consciences, to quell controversy, and to reanore scis-
ai? The consular government satisfied the religioua winftsof
those who were religiously inclined, while at the same time it did
jaot force any one to join a church of whidi he might not approve.
It kept that chuich subordinate to the state, and certninly .^oal-
parte'a power was never after endangeted by the ohygf* He
tbereJMie did for once an act of justice and bmerolence, usidiaat
the least danger to himself or to any one else* . >

In the session of die l^islative body for the year {X« (1801),
the proportion between the opposition and the govemmeot psitjr
continued nearly the same as m the preoeding year. Of ten (M>o-
jects of law presented by the government, three were rejected} hat
they concerned minor matters of admiaistratioo« The laviiH^ tk
establishment of special tribunals in crimmal matlcins excita^l >
wanner debate, as it affected the personal security of. individask.
It was proposed at the same time to reduce the nnmber of tiie
justices of peace, to take away from them the judicial poiioe el
their respective disti'icts> and give it to special magistfales ap-
pointed ad hoc by the government. The numerous parlies.of eat-
laws, or brigands as they were called, who infested aeferal |^
vinces of France^ were alleged as the motive of a pngeot of Ia^
which annihilated the institution of the jury« and left the cilis^
without gnaratttee against arbitrary imprisonment* The div,
however^ passed the tribunate^ though by a small majority*. '^^
was not enough for the first consul^ who was irritated by tbs loa^
which the discussions had assumed in the tribunate. He ^ot^
not bear publicity in snch cases« He had repeatedly told sevsfsl
of the members, that» '' instead of declaiming in the tribune ^^^
would do better to come to him iu his cabinet, and discuss tke

C rejects of law in familiar cooversatioUi as be was wont is do in
is council of state, where he allowed the greatest freedom oi
speech*" In an audience he gave to the senate on the 0tk Plit-
viose, after the debate on the special tribunak, he vent^T^'^
spleen against the tribunate in that coarse guard-rooo» orstor; to

TkilNiiideui'^ Memoirs of Uttfokon. 547

vrkieh hs was accuttomed to resort wbeneter stflog by penonal

?^OBiti0Oi " Gkiguen^/' said be^ ** has given the ass's kick.
hero are in the tribunate twelve or fifteen metaphysicians fit to
be thiowa Into the Seine. I feel the Fermin about my (iothes» • • .
T%ty most not fancy that I will let myself be attacked like
Liouis XVI.; I shall not allow iL"

The Ibird sessioa of the legislative body was opeoed in Bni-
Etsaifie, year. X. (November, 1801.) The two first projecto of law
(wacenriog the civil code were rejected by the Jtiibanate. The
fir0t'<;ottB«il held a long and waras conversatioo on this subject an
.kit oouMii of state. He said that the declamatioiis oi the oppa-
sntieii tended to degrade thegovemmem in the eyeig of the French
people, always prone to ridicule; that an opposition an France
was a very different thing from the opposition in England, or in
ancient Rome; that where there are oo patricians there ooght lo
be no public deliberative body; that the government in this case
was the representative of the people* The first National Assean
My was right in makaag the king subordinate to the represeata-
tives, because there were still a nobility and a clergy; bat now
every thing was changed. The constitution had created a legis-
lative power composed of three branches, but each of tlMse
iwanches had not the right of orgamBiag itself; that oaght to be
Ae subject of a law. We must,dierelbrei make a law to oiganiae
the mode of deliberation in each of these bnmches. The tribunate
ought to be divided into five asctioos. The discussion of the
fapM will take place secretly in each section, where they may
babble as kmg as they please. The section may discuss the
Mojects with the corresponding sections of the council of state.
The reporter alone will 'JPf^l^ ^^ public, and we shall then bear
aometbiog reasonable* There mast be unity of purpose in the
great authorities of the state, otherwise we cannot go on, and a
general uneasiness aad want of confidence will spread thtough the
nation. In so numerous a nation as France, the minority are ia-
eapabie of judging sooodly of public affiurs. France is not yet
a Mpublic; it is yet a problem whed»r it will be able to consti-
tnte ooe« In five or «ix years this question will be solved. If the
awtborities remain in harmony together, we shall have the repub-
lie; -if not, we may go on iot ten or twenty years, and the arisl»-
emcy must retuni* it is the natural tendency of men and things.
Once more, we must have no opposition. What can we do wMi
sucb men as Gantlh and Garat-Mailla i (the nephew of Garatthe
senator). All those who surround Sieyes go on badly, and it is
chiefly through his fault. He regrets not being grand elector. —
MimoirtB sur le Comulat, p. 224— 231; Le Consulat, vol. ii.
p. 411 — 416.

3^ Thibau^au'. U^i^frsof^^Jlff^

^ By the constitution of the yefir VJ^fbpd^^ tl)e trji^Mi^t^a^^
i%||i!5fti^i.*'b'oay were td' be reiiewa^py'^l^^tl^'ll'ft^
(1e(nr| 'The senate wb0 to choose fhe m^iuMrf ,gf xbe jij^w Ml
But nothing was said about the manner in wnfch the members to
Mst^iM^a wm tbbe picked iytft. Iliisrii^i^M^ifC aUytK>nw«$
dtflfetf^ed 1h the councir of stat j; ' Silde U'^re ' (01* iHe 'Mot,
^(^f« bff schitiny. * The fifst cotxMWtdti^se'v^'i^ ^ Che Wr.
'rtb^ cferoilc^ wfts l&ft to the ^etikiie: irtiidtr d/^cdt/r5^>cm>fed the
^^6¥m{ny/ < By this ttieans the prrnci^kt^tiieuibers of U^b oobositioa
W^y«f tetnoved from the tribuhate, ^tfch'ias 'Ch'Mkrj''7!>acio<Hi|
BvirfMin Constant, Isnard, ChaziilV GM^IH/ O'di'^t-Matjla, tec.
^4nM^ th^<rh^ffttfb6ri chosen tbtepn^^d'th^ W^iY^at^&t^Dstv,
imd'fiM^teH Bi/n^parte. The tnbtitiate' fbds r^neiifiid'itimed "

Mhited by' the government in this session on the concordat, the
eii^tise^iptfon^ ^u6lit6 instruction, &c. were bailed' Willi' afca'rcely
iiiiy t>pp^?tidn, except those on the adtnfnistra^too of fhe coi<y
ifi^i fititf on Ae establishment of the Legion oT'HbrfdhK' These
imi^^iAfe Bomb notice. *By (he treaty of Amiens;* 'JPrktice b^d
i«tio%ei^d her colonies both in the Vf^est and Bast Indies^
ihktMii: Afriea'. In the discussioif held in the cotinie|l ofitate on
tllia»4idttiimstrati6n of the colonies, the first consul in^^pdiied the
^M^eet^6f'e«t«tylislhiiTg chambers of agrieolture among^th^colo-
nittsyi which 'might petition the goveitiment of th^'mtilthbi^ibiititry,
flnl^hate itheir agents at Parid. «' It Mas the onH rii^aip/ he
aiiid; ''lDf making the sentiments, wishes, and wants"6f tft^ colo-
Qilil*<(lthi^wn't?o the gofernmetoV.^ He defended the' cot^dftictof
thaiPreiicheolbnisU and Cfet>le*^ n^ho'were arcutM of b^ib^tiif
ciMe^ofllli^ didturbimees whi^h'had broken ou in isevertil tdbti^*
With Meganl to the Blacks, he spoke vehemently against thei'mea-
8iii^'4>f jeMandipaiion d^reed by the convention. The faoriprs of
St. Domingo furnished him with a plausible text.
^'*« Alfti^ tfcat eitpcrience,*' he said, '* it would now be mere obstTqscy
tb ttOkabot^t'tlie liberty of the Blanks. The Whites ha^e ^ sscn-
fliad>i|od«!nmcdcwed, alidybu Wilt liot allow them to coinJpUin. l^
fii|/the.iWI;ilsi»^ became! <am white myself; I- have no other iea^>
bttlit^^li suQioMnliOaA.. 1 WithMt goine any further, wdold ^^J^

ol^ligecL'On tlie contrary, to use great precautions, and to kieep t|iefA ii^
d^perimticei and, if I ha4 had to choose between sacrificing two soM*^^^
of tty fWrtJr, or dooming all Italy to perdition, I should have sacrificed
allf talyibii^ati^e'I am, above atf tilings, of my army, and for my army*

Tiiibdud^att's Memdits 6f Napoleon. 349

SVeo tioW t^e ofrudt Ice^p a 'sharp iopk*outr uppn that country^ aild. y ^
tKeyare Wl^ttes'like baindves; they are civiUzed people wSf our
ti^JgkbMfs.^'^MevUrira sur le Consulate p. 116—121.

H6 did nolv hpW^ver, Imit hiojusetlf to re-pt;abli^ing fil^v0ry-Mi
th^'.coIoDiedA lor .W|)ich| rarhapa^^inuch iui^ht have |]eQ|iji!«Mnt
tfa^^tipie^ but he re-eatabUsh|ed alao,^ honid atavfHUradi^ ynflmk
^^liys .carried on und^r the tn-cQlbui:ed jlag dufipg th« pmi94vof>lfep
l^l^e of Aiok!iia« apd afterw^grd^ >i(i^«ni^ver: their ohip^^iq^ui^
eseijpe / ^e v jgi la^ce of > the English . prt|ifiera* Thia .^r^a ^^^t
thl^gr^W 9taio^ of 'the ^oqsular govemiqent.. Qpniip^rt^^.^ll^
ak^^^^a i|Q%n8 of the ;iiQporta^ce of colonies tpj^^im^jei, wAikf^
eteit]lal>nsietv to rival Bpgladd in loaritiine.fow^* (i?onUibi|tiMl
hd'4pu]bt to the adoption of that aieaauve,, ,Jixj^,y^ fae^llf^ joot
nientsin which hq saw matters connected witJaKstatia^ics and po^fi
tical econpmy witli a clear/er eye; but they Yvera poly iutid mt/^
vtEflJ, jsoon overcast by the mists of .pasaioQ and wilCiilaass^ < ia
a.aiacussion in. th^ counpil of state^ abput tbemaritjine inscrip%
tiQii^ which is in fact a r^iful^r. conscriptioo, of aailorainatfitdri^
the ^asional impressment^ of the English^ he argiaed on t^evii^
cewty p( such a measure^ on a^xo^st of the grc^at geograpli|^l
diffSgrence between France and England, " En^land,^ aai4M«
'^ha^ An immense extent of cp^^t, which furnishes bee vrUb
plenty of sailors whenever she. wants theii^. , Fran^^. on tb^tcovh
trary^ eveii \yith her recent acquisitic^^.baa a denaii^hodyy^aii^
Iess,pQa3t in, proportion. . j^fature haA.ifptiJ^isonJiaypurAbb.to'ita
in this respect. Eng^nd is like a bamp on oya noaey-^natnfets for
her. We mnst then substitqie the foi^e of logislatiiw/' Sdo.jIA^
if lecialation should strive to cofifuex.natttife, iaatead lOf adupting-
itself to the capabilities and natural advantages of eadi oouitryw
Tha^ vas his usual foible^ the weakpeaaof a powefful hutuncon-^
trotlf;d„ipind«. The law upon the. colonies: apd the slaves paisetf
the.tribupate by a majori^ty of ^4 againat S7^ and the iegialaliiie'
body by 211 against 63«. ., . •.! t^'

The discussion concerning the establishiQeat, of, the prd^of
the Legion of Honour was remarkably intereatiag* . In itke'eoi|iicU>
of state, Dumas, although fovoiimble to the padhsot^pltopGlasdi
that the order- should he excluaively militafy* fioBapiii'teiD|N
posed the idea. It was good for thti feudal times/ ivhein' "tfte-
miHcary q«alilies^ ibroe, and bravery were ^v«ry thihg; But^
the invention of gunpowder had changed the whole military'

litary men that a pure military government would never suit
France^ unless the whole nation were first brutified by half a

VOL. XVII. NO. XXXfV, B B

S50 TbibaudeauV Memoirs cf Napoleon.

eeotury of ignorttnce. All sach attempts will hx\, and their
authors will fall Ticttms to them. The mere military man knows
no other law but force ; he refers every thing to himself, and to
his corps. The civilian, on the contrary, sees the general good
of society* The former wills every thing despotically; the latter
appeals to reason, discussion, and truth. The national honoiin
and rewards, therefore, are due to the civilian even in preference
to the military/'<*-(M^moJne5, pp. 76-— 80.) What a ooaunent
this on hia own subsequent headlong career of the empire ! when
every thing was carried by military force ; when he ackaowiedged
that he regulated his conduct chiefly by the opinion of haa aiaBy»
and boasted that with 800,000 men he could treat Europe as he
pleased \ when the populations subject to his iron sway were divided
into two daases, mUitaires and pikins! But at the former period
ho ftiU felt like a citizen ; and he was not yet at the head of the
armed forces of one half of Europe. Several councillors of state
objeeted to the institution of the Legion of Honour, as an erdrr,
an ofganiaed body, a new aristocracy, — in short. Berlier men-
tRNied the Romans*

** It is yer^ strange, said the first consul, that, in speaking against
civil distinctions, you should quote the history of tne very people
among whom they were most marked. All their constitutions, social,
military, civil, and religious, were based upon distinctions. When the
distinctions between the classes gave way, after that fine patrician body
wtis destroyed, Rome was torn to pieces ; the people were nothintt' but
the lowest populace, and the proscripttons of Marius, Sylla, and the
CSflBsars^ suooaeded each other. People aie always quoting Brutus as
the floemv of tyrants: well! Brutus was nothing but an aristocrat
who killed Cfiesar, because Csesar wished to curtail the autliorityof
the senate in order to increase that of the people. But ignorance or
party spirit have disfigured history. Where is the republic in ancient
or modern times without distinctions ? You call them gewgaws, but
men are fond of gewgaws or toys, and are led along by means of them.
I do not think that the French people care much about Uberty and
eoMditf ; the French have not been changed by ten years of revdutibD ;
tney are still what the Gauls were, high-spirited and changeable.
They have one feeling, that of honour; we must then adminiates food
4e that isaling, we must give them distinctiosis. See how diey bow
balbre the decorations worn by foreignerss how they seem struck by
them !* What have the revolutionary governments done ? They have

* When (be Marquis Lucchesiiii, the Prussian minister, came to the audience of
the flnt contal at the Tnileries, he was corered with rihbona and crosses of nnmefovt
orders. Bontptrte. who was standing at one of the windows, observed how the people
fgazed at thcni on his alighting from his caniage, and how imprcitsed they seemed with
a sense of the importance of the diplomatist who wore so many brilliant decorations.
This is said to have first suggested to him the idea of the Legion of Honoor.

Tliibattdeau*5 MemoirS' of Napoleon. 35 1

diatrofed every dnng that bad a bold upon meii'a miDdfl, and siihiti-
tnied nodung instead. We have a govenmentt we have conttituted
.pewerSy but all the rest of the nation^ what k it ? a «aady levd. We
must throw upon this level some masses of gianite^ or we shall never
have a repubhc/'

Alter several sittings^ the question of sending tbe project before
.the legielattve body was put to the vote. It was cturned in the
.eouDoil of state by fourteen votes against ten, who voted for the
adjoumiDent, under the plea that the session oi the.Jegislftlive
body was: drawing to a close. The project of law was stiongly
appoeed in the tribunate; Lueien spoke violently in support of it,
aposliopfaised tbe opposition as criminal, called the oatian.isilo-
yobkf and by his violence increased the number of tbe app<ments
of the measure. It passed, however, by 56 votes agstinst 39» epd
the legislative body by 166 against 110. — {Consulate vol^ii.
p»484») The opposition on this oocasion was one of tbe strongest
thai die govemsnent had experienced. But it was also tbe^Jbst.
■Theiscnatos censnltum, which pracbimed Napoleon oonsul lor
life, reduced also the tribunate to fifty memberf»beingon#helf of
its original number. From that moment the last relic of repre-
sentative government disappeared, and the projects of laws, in-
stead of being discussed freely and in public, were examined in
private committee of the respective section, or in conferences be^
tween two or ^hree delegates of tlie section, and as many council-
IcNTs of statei under the presidency of the second or third consul*

It was on tbe occasion of congratulations for the condusieii of
die peace of Amiens, that tbe president of tbe tribunate propoaed
to that body to send a message te tbe senate to give to the^first
consul a splendid mark of the national gratitude. Lacepede in
the senate proposed to extend die period of Bonaparte's consu-
late for ten yetirs more after the expiration of the first ten. An-
other senator, Despinasse, proposed next to make him consul
for life, but the president of the senate, Tronchet, put at once
the previous question, which was adopted by sixty votes against
the single vote of Lanjuiuais. But this was not what Bonaperte
expected* When tbe seaatus consnltum was brought to^the. first
consul, be thanked the senators for their mark of esteem, bnteaid
he would not accept tbe prolongation of his eonsulsfaip wnlDss
the suffrages of tbe people confirmed the act of the senate. The
council of stete was summoned for the 20th Flor&d; the second
and third consuls and all the ministers, except Fouchi, were
present. Having read the senatus consulturo and tbe answer of
the first consul, Rcederer said that a mere prolongation of tbe
consulship gave no pledge of stability, that a stronger measure
was required, which tbe senate, however, could not take upon

B b2

I.'

562 Thibaudeau'jt Memoirs of Napoleon*

itoetf ; llMh|lwrer<ire'flie qmBtisn to besnlaniltfea to'thelBiiffirign
dfthe^)|Mft5ple ought to be; *^ ^diedverdie first €oiiBul>Bhoiildk 9)6
firtiiedfdr life/ And tlMHild Imve the right of appointMigiitt
d^ibdr.^ pM-tilis/Blgat de P? 6atiieteu» iDitbois^ &c^ ipobe ill
support of the motion. Portalis described Bonaparte as ^.r Aian
on^iom'tbe dislini«s0f the ivorld depended, and'<be6ire.«libni
Ate^eMliil mood'in sa^nce." The consofaite for • life was* adopted,
bmv up6ii 'tb^ Tight of iiominatrag his auccesaor, five* cMHioiUonii
kimig^ii/tioiii irei« Thihattdeaa tmd Berlieri did not votat^ < (She
HMt mdrKlMg, the jMemYeifnoatitained an arrftte of ihft^twida^ by
^ieb^iMooattidering that the people^wfactii.conBuUediiiiioiirtkttr
deimfft>idtef0s|i shooki JwTe : no liniiifes put toi Aheit ddennioiitiMa/*
Uf^mm dnindedl that the 'nranok peopletsfaouia have-to -^dde
ffpon^the^^catmiv' ^- whetbse > Nepoleon Bonaparte" waei to . be
eonsul for life/' and that registeis be opened in erory^comnMrnp
fittT'theieitiaeavlo imoribe tlvar Totee^ Tbe.quettion >of. tbeilac-
te^ioaitvlwr<ii'opped>a9'prttDataDej. •Bonspartededared:4ball!he
bwij|i0aimm)<rfat8 hdiig^fnreiiQBed* In. ajoodweraatuHi bBi4aid.at
iilBiliiniis^n with:4i; teaoc^knr of (0taltt».ap^«re«dy Thtbandtoait^ibe
IsfaodBieil fkiidlkirly)tbe Eid^ect of fthecoosnlshq^'foriU^
i^lj^veifailki gi<ei(t ooqsiddratioti, especiaBy abi)0«l4 '^^L tWiaofMr
^r«flei«i iftldi 4fan other eoveceignfl^ for, after, all, thef ere theun*
^ehNielibr life^ikityj; /Tirnj «nd their: minbters mUifes^edime
Udobei beeaifeitfa6yiS6^:tifaat.niy ftutluHrkDr is, no loiter |Nrecafi0ita«"
•Aildidi^A he'it6iitt4>iiiwitb:.one of hia.tiradea a^iost.tbe tdeo*
Ipgifts^ittollpbcatyofihepreBay'SiejearfiocA t. » .

orlJOn)ildlMngi''BkHiap»tBy the'coiinfiillor "Went into Josephines
^iplMHemf^'dieitook faim^ into the^ park, and spoke tojiiai^-ii^
^tJtieaiOtieiH^f' henuneasiBCBs andher fieaas^ oo«acQOilnt«orttbe
lalMjj^aeitfsii^ whick< ber huiband was surrounded. <She tridbim
that'Llieieii ivialiAd afaaiihitelyito eetaUish tbaifaeiMit&rjt amicea-
tifbiyj^thht-'.lw/faad-piioposed to hern to adopt a>.sttrneptitiiHia ebUd»
abah IVdIqynEiod bad frainad a'plan of a;new ooastitotioR> vdlb llie
toi^editin^tsuoceesioo, 'tliat.noBderar, Lacepedc^ Laplace^ &o.
'buppbiaiditheiebheme^'that Boaaparte listened it«» aiU* aad^aaiae
4Mdy>aeoairadidted:tbe8e(i<pfqeciB« .be/wioo^ be at iaeH QmrwkA
^ala«i|l^i<W)Ij0ftetiit0lliaflB/'i^d jQSepbine» ^ tkk\, iH^akaeaeffaad
<aaiibilidn'4tre}tbe two; main joaiuei of rtbe vatn.^ tbea. -.jUirithea
tells nie to mind my own business. I don't spedbcfer flqAet^fpr
It'idbfl^ipmDiitidtBr.'anyitfamgc 'B«lati8:ti greiriiipttyittuifraDjKiing
'il(iac[/2ttiio btaisoqaansPcliiinB to tke hotna^e af faitf coalidnifiianfrtes
rtod-^t^^lM'^^dnmatipn of.poateutyyahoidd'bei led aniva|?.i^;AKfr>
"^ffiittJf ^itfvfOtAd)iiMfvmilto (expeee them ia «oBi^:90Uvnal«;for
ahlOcJb 'th<fe enlyithinf ^tibas'aiqf efiect iipott>fionapai4ei» who ii
extremely sensitive to the sarcasms of the English newspapers.

Thibaudeau'f Memoirs qf Napoleon. 353

• -'■'•'' ' . ..' •

It is for this that he declaims so much against writers aud lawyers.

AmA f^-l\m\mi^ bis'fatberWaa&ilimjev/' ..Po^ffiJfNiliriMAie Jp^.

to>^tee<'hi»|f ftiare reaiixed^ her pkpediotioinit fulfil lodj lliPt|g^t.t)Ot,

•saetlyiatkewasri nor so soon, as she espodtodi It isie0a<kiriM^

that she: looked upon Fouche asotie of the. ft w. real fid#ndsr.9£J^§a

Irasband* •■ • •• i '. i :• 'i . •« . 'r li* iMMJUi*/*.

it^be registers of the departments being exftiiMed»>0i6Z3j8w^
voleil^werefMiDd registered, of whiioh 3»Sli8»S69 wQra in i^m^fjA
the donsskhipfor \}Se* Then caate varbus cfaftngtsiui^hfiPrgiH
nikJttioQandattribDtionS'Of the^ribBimle^fegislstiw body^fOpiiftMil
9t alatev deetor&l colleges^ etai< wiiioh in liiet cotKlilmlfdifii tmn
cmMtitutpon^ 'Gentvakntioo'of p^welB'wiiB the tohlciii of *t^<4 dl(y^
Tbeirtepifmu' the cenavbhsp^ibr- life 'M> Ibe iempm.ibtqaim'^ll
vcry^sy one* Bbnaparte^s €9ntferaBdon»JwHfal:l%ibiiud«eattv9n^
witb Josephine upoQ' these netet-emUiig: after;iti0n»i«fr9>0ferir(S)ir
ntmm^^{lAitnoinii pp» 609*-^3fi0.) ' • .';i '. ■ » •: Uund-*
:Tlie' character of Josephine' appears to hanm beeninbiaUdianl
taiXA^ she aeems to have '8ufferetlgrcat)]r'inherfl9ifn}ino^/frQDi,^hef
buMMJmb who was kind toher, buttbroagbrhar fisadftcrfifisliiflilgiWSMl
h^i; being tormented faj dip idea of tbamg mi ckiUiisiiy : ilihinoieWt
her dread the yiesthm^of heiieditaryaiiocesiioOit^hich Aa.koartl
aqgilateii by those arteind Bonaparte* ;> Osapto- &¥(> of litlw J^er
nunra treats of ike military oppoaitiooi the otily -otieilliiiiC Ismliiiied^
of'wbkii Moreau and' Bemadette « warn, a^ tb^ifaea&[ i^ftloaetay
tbougb a good fcnbrah^'sa evidently a^Mtt^^man^aniliwaif ladiihj
hisimother^imlaw, who bad iliiach vanity and ambitioflw HikilDiAi^
ence in France at the tai^e-appeaestto haitebeenli^FeilljftAMgl-
gerated^ There is also an aooonnt of Foooh^'sjillsipiiKMJ^rofiutbe
Miisti^ of police^ which was effected by iiii beinspmaiJeie^acMlqiv
nod whiob seems to here gcten freabiconseofianxietjrte Joaepkbif^

I Oaspter XVIL, which treats of fiodapai'tat's •nsoAiatiaei^itbii
affauvof Switaerlaad, is. Ugbfy iiiterealaBgi: iTteoe a»0)tfi|it^:itf
se$X frankness perrading his conTei^ati^tlsmlh'tfaleSwalSJd4p^licia*
wbick, joined to the good sense skqd sound tifewt h0jespMiA^d;0P
4hilt occasioii, gito a very <faw>binUe idisa , of ibis ohsraolfiitMrbfii
siet under the iofluenoe of ambitiQil-or aanit^i. Hisifen^tetu^qi^
Switaerland was a beapeficial.aot^ afid'pne ol^ tkejfete.treoaai^lkMii
of^his'fojie^o policy in. which he appeared :.trulyi.ciquitiri>iQ4>kola«
'StibnlJdus^andi disintecestodw > Wee/ must- segrel AhabiHer(bfiicl£iliP
siladi>fi||iestta€ttSj' . -i. ; j m^j'J vf,<\ \ii\ \iin:ii ot -mix glloi

.'jiflHiei di84ais.§iqnb in.' the: coaskfil otetbteffcosckmtngcftlAtiatiiil
eodisio^oupy Chapter XiX. It is ^veU' known thaA! Fnht^partlfs
tof^k 9 gn^ poxi io thieto dbcOBsidasy ahhongh oo db8ub|f citjwhiflb
be cbuld not know scientificaUy . TbibaUdeau att^stSi. aild wei6l%
believe hfmi that on thcee occasions ^^c s]|x>ke uleith.'a fifsedomiiJBi

354 TUbftodeau'i Mmoin of ^inspokon.

scMmdneM of judgmettt, and a total absence of pretenaioo or dog*
matism^ whidi produced a most favonrable effect on the n»>
sembly, and that liis speeches, such as they appear in the prods-
verbal of the discassions which has been printed, are exactly his
own, and not made up afterwards, as it has been asserted, by
Locr^i secretary to the council of state. This was again a sub*
ject on which Bonaparte found himself perfectly unbiassed by
personal views, or arrtire-pensees : and he therefore gave full scope
to bis natural sense of justice and quickness of penetration*

The peculiar iaaportance of Thibaudeau's Mimoiru mar Jc
Cemuiat, in an historical point of view, consists in the inaghl
they aflbrd into Bonaparte's poUticai views and sentiments nt the
tittie, MS expressed by him m confidential conversation to Thi*>
baudeau himself and others of his councillors. And the vnhieof
these revelations is increased by comparing them with die states
ments Bonaparte made to Las Cases at St. Helena^ which, when
divested of all colouring and sophistry, serve to corroborate the truth
of his former confessions, and to prove that his political opinions on
the iMftt material points had undergone very little change from the
tims of the consulate to that of his captivity. One of the most
important of these points is that discussed in Chap% XVIIL of
Thibaudeau's Memoirs, entitled <' War and Peace." ficma-
parte's sentiments, as expressed by him during the short period
of the peace of Amiens, clearly settle, in our opinion, the long
disputed question, whether the rupture of that peace was mainlj
owmg to England or to himself. We extract the following fami-*
liar dialogue between the First Consul and a councillor of state,
designated, as usual, by the initial N., and who, we take it for
granted, was Thibaudeau himself^ which took place soon after
the ratification of the treaty of Amiens. This dialogue, we
oannot tell why, has not been inserted in the larger work before

" * Well, citizen/ said the First Consul, ^ what do you think of my.
peace with England?* ' I think, citizen consul, that it does mudi
fionour to your government, and that it is very acceptable to the
French.' * But do you think that it will last lon^ V * I should wish
that it might last at least four or five years, to give us time to recoo<'
■Cruet our navy, but I doubt it.* * I don't believe it either ; Ei^snd
fears us, and the continental powers do not love us. How coukL ws
expect a solid peace? But, besides, do you think that a peace of five
jwars or more would suit the form of oiur government^ and the circom*
stances of its position V * I think that such a period of rest would be.
very suitable to France afler ten years of war.' * You don't under-
stand me : I don't question whether a sincere and solid peace he an
fidvantage for a state whose government is solidly established; but

Tbibaudeau's Mmudrs o^ Nupolfon. S56

whether ears u ao eatabliahed aa not to ataikd m need of freah vielON
riea V * I have not snffidenthr reflected upon so grave a queatioa ;
sdl I can aav, or rather what I feel, is that a state which cannot codsop
lidale itself except by war is in a very unfortunate position/ * The
greatest of all misfortunes would be not to judge correctly of one's
position, for when one knows it, one can provide for it accordingly.
Now answer roe, do you believe in the feeling of persevering enmihf
of those governments who have just signed treaties of peace?' *ft
would be a difficult matter for me not to believe it.' * Well, now draw
your ioferences. If those governments hold still in petto the dmnght of'
war, if they mean to renew it some day, better it should be soon than
late, ft>r every day weahens in them the impression of thdr late defeats,
and in asthe enthnstasm of our laie vietories ; all the advantage in gain-
ing tame wiU, therefore, be on their side,' ' But, citizen consul, do ^ou
reckon as nothing the use you might make of peace for the organiza-
tion of our internal afiairs V * I was just coming to this point. Cer-.
tainly thb important consideration has not escaped my mind, and I
have shown, even in the midst of war, that I did not neglect that which
concerns our internal institutions and good order, and I don't mean
to stop there, for there is yet much to do ; but are not military suc^
cesses alto as necessary as ever in order to dazxle and to restrain the
people of the interior ? You must consider, that a Fitfst Consal does
net resemble diose kings by the grace of God, who look upon dbeiv
stataa «8 an iidientanoe, and whose power is supported by traditional
haUta^ With us, on the contrary, old habits become obstacles. The
French .flevenunent of this day resembles in nothing the governments
by which it is surrounded. It is hated by its neighbours, and is
■ obliged to restrain in the interior several parties of discontented men ;
in order, therefore, to overawe so many enemies, it stands in need of
brilliant actions — of war, in short' ' I acknowledge, citizen consul,
that you have much more to do in order to consolidate your gtffem*
ment than the kings our neighbours in order to maintain theirs; tat,
it mi^ be said, also, that Europe knows already^ by experisMe^ that
you can conquer, and she does not require fre^ proofs of it evsvy
year in order to remember it, and that, on the other side, the labours
of peace are not always obscure, and you may still command admira-
tion by effecting great national works.' • Old victories, seen from a
distance, strike the mind no longer, and great worktf of art make no
great impression except upon those who see and inspect them, and
these form but a small number. It is my intention to multiply this
kind of works, for which posterity, perhaps, will give me more credit
than for my victories ; but, for the present, there is nothing that can
command attention so much as military successes: that is my thought;
it is a misfortune in my position. A new-bom government like onrsi
I must repeat it, is obliged in order to consolidate itself, to dassle
and astonish the rest.' * Your government, citizen consul, oannot, I
think, be cdled new-bom. It assumed the toga viriUa at Marengo;
and directed as it is by a strong head, and supported by thirty milUoos
of people, it holds already a rank siifficiently conspicuous among the

dd6 Tti^Vi4^*x%^llimniid^^N4lUMi'

gof#igD9«e«(9 tft Ei|f (QW).' A And d^^QiriL ol^^to tlkt^'tey ^de**MBi^

* An4, in order to.obM^n t^ f^vjitdoi youijwe no >oti|w^.iiiteBi^tai-
ynaT 'Yes, citizen . ^, ^ . • t wiU b^^r w4^mK^if.i]|wr'fHfii«49«kmwt
how to keep it; but if they oblige .me to take fftfflWf ^agliMitillcjbue
our swords oecotne blunted bv eneminacy or loqg ioJ|^cfio]|y|f abfj^.lff?^
upon kas an idvantz^.* ' * mt, citizen consuli what penoaVJU STP^
usign to this state of anxiety wUehwonld make us wutk &r wax^.eV^D
m tw iioMmi of peace?' ^ My dear friend, I do not see dearly' ^ibji|^
int9! Bamntf to lie aUe t» miw^r that question ^ %ut I 'feel| tib'at In
ordfft ta.^speet eoiidkgr aiii<g«iod faick-in treades M* ptiace,'4dtber
tb6|{Ov#roniei|ts.tbst amNmiid nsKimiafe ifaeatMS^dn their'tena ikakt
like , to oiurSf \or owMpoii^c^, kis^tiitikM mst. be m IMe muna t« loif*
mooy witb.theirSf . TWq ,19 alira^rs A,apir»l4ip£<kotliiftty|iheMeaiiraM'
monarchies a^d a republic totajily, pei»> . T^i^ j^<^ J^f^ ^^ ^^ niQ^
European discord/ ' But might npt thi|i ho^iji^^f^ \ie joh^fi^J^
reoeitt recollections and by the attitude which.you c^ ^ffmpef\ /:^W-
liatrres are not retnedies ; in our po^tioii t consid^^^ £d|. t^eaif^s 1^.
peaoe as mere truces, and toy ten yearfif consulate (he was' not v^tj^
aul for life) as a |)eriod'of ^aknost Uhkit^rrtipted Warfbrer' M^ snqces-
sore will do as they can. ' FMrth^^* Mfeit, you must n6t'(ih|ipote'tUat T
shiA. be4hfl.first.iD hrqak tka'pufcaiitieii^liot f^hidl'klbt' Mt'th<^'(«n
of the agg^ssfor. I leelrtoo .wall.' tfai adb«]ita|(e ttfileaviai} the nflflwgit
to ior^goefisr I kifusi^ .tbem<w^;/jk4wy..)9m' be ifae::»iiiat><6 -'msiMiie '
hostilities, or a^ least to fiurnish ma with jiUftiitiotivaikK^Aesfiineidifcin
myself. I shall keep myself re^y for fiU.>eve^l%' ,/,lif asiiioitiasa

better than an ephemeral peace ; we shall see how this wil]i ti^a QfxU
Peaoe is jUst now of great vsdue, ibr it s^ls the confirmation o^ my
goyetmaeiit by the acknowledgment bf the power which has b|iposed
It the kM^sfe; that ia'the most essential point. Thb r«st, that far to
8ay» futunty, will be accordai|g.te'eifcttmiMnees/'*^^JIiexffoirdr^^

Harfing fdithfufly translated the above conversation^ >?e le^ave
it to every teadei* whose tbiud is tmbiassed to draw his own cpfi*
elusions from it. To talk after this about Malta being the real
cause of the rupture appears, to us mere triflii^,. . .

By a aenatna conauivum of £4th Ft^uctidor, yeai;'K., Piedmont
was united to -FraTi^e, and foi'med into six departments* ;lCiie
First Consul issued what he styled an amnesty, for ^U ppuUcaJl
crimes of which the natives of ri^dmont might bave bejeii guUlj
against France! ,By this curious an^oesty he allowed thpee Mdia
had absented themselves from the)^ <;oiintry ^orbad foUowed.lhieir
former sovereign to Tus<;aiiy w Sardinia, till the IM Vaode-
miaire, year XL, to return; after which those who atll abaeuted
thenoiselves should be declared as banished, and their property

ni

lO

'i

the liberals of our digr «^ to tiich an amtie^yl The cditor'bf ^fiV^;
Hmoireide Hapoleon canaot Mlp remarking that this wis (jrdatWrf^j
emigrMUni Piedcdont, at the same time that those pf Franco were 'J
striwk off the criminal list.— (Le ConsuUit, vqI, jii. p. ^^-^ Kiio
ceftaiti, that the crime of voluntai; emigration figurei^ inery i^r^^iig^qi j
in the {ienal code of a state calling itself fi«e» By aapUief ssen^^S^^Hti
coDsuItum of the same mpntbr the island of Elba^ on lh»&J9itm
of Tuscany, %vas likewise united toFraBoei Spaia had «Mldf

iiven.iip J^uisiana to Franoew H<dbiiid vma aliH oeo«pi«l tif
'r^w^ tri90p8» Sonapa»te|[kw a new oonstitdtiott to IJgUria'tfikf^l
to SiriUedand^ <rf wbicb Im bi^me the prot^toi". The^q^tiili^^''
briam^eoMtoniiplailed by the trefaty of Amiens was thtW completrfj?*"*
destroyed^ And when tbe English ambassador, lx)?d Wbit^ori^",^
in bis ^famous intemew with Bbpaparte^ alluded to theae jiqpiipp,^^.,
^e First Consul answered, that " the ann^xatio^x>( !pi^4mi[M4..f[
Elba, &c. were mere trifles ! that they ought to Uaw Uw fowh? «{
8€enby the £ngUslA cabinet during the oegpoialiooafor tbepeaofeili^;
^a^ ithad QQw l;^>.l:ipht. to speak about them;"»^A.p.<ftMiio>'
And the. editor fin^ts tbm reasnumg^perfe^y jiul;«ndishf«l#riaUl>i^'''
the bji^pm of tbe i^ptairei lopolii Englandi beenuse sh^ 'dSa^ ribt ^^'
chofne^kilbefaceof all these' new entrt^nchinfttM df Bbititjpir^, *"\
todeJiferup Malta! But it is absoltftely itseless to attepj)t.to^^^^
reaeoa with those who admit as a principle Bonaparte^s alf^eady,; ,".^
quoted profession, that his government must be the first in EtfrppCfjy^
which is saying that he had in fact the right ol,doiUig aa \^].ui
pleased on the Continent. This reduces the mole<)iie8tioa to tbe. /I
very simple argument of the right of the atroogeaft* Were<tfae/ >t;
advQcates of Bonaparte frankly to acknowledge tbia at oneie^'itl •*
^o^M 8ai?e a vast deal of wopdaand paper*

The indemnities, which by the treaty of Lunevitte wend to be ^
given to the German princesi were pother aounee of ppliticdl
scandal. France and Russia becaone joint medUtprs h- tbi« ^
business. ..,..,. .>...; ^

" Most of the German princes who claimed indemnities, being aware
^^t tbe,jgrBBting of them depended more upw France than npeathd
Germanic Diet, addressed themselves to that jj^wer aa Wellas tQ.Ras'*; •
^a, wl^ich last showed an ambition to interfere m the affiiirs of Germ^y-r. I
^foni'tlie beginning of 1802, the transactions concerning tlie indemni- > •
^ies w^pe^ transferred from Ratisbon to Paris. The German princes ..,
flocked thitber to solicit the protection of the First Consul, and the^ .
8oed gtaoM of hia mmister Talleyrand. Grermany was put nn to auc- ' ' j
turn iaibe offices of ibe department of foreign afrairs."^(tf2sf aire Hd

^««9ar^ Xe CbiHMte, iiL 05.)

^ , . . . •

558 Thibattdeaii'f Mmoin o

PrmM, Bavaria* and Aostiia, howeveri did not vmi^ for the
retult of the negotiatioiui ; itey aeieed what suited tbem'beei^

" The Prussian troops oecufned Htkleshem, Erihrt, EidisfHd; and
Monster; the Bavarians took the towns on the Ledi, and etttered the
Bishopric of Passau, hut Aaatria seized uponPasaan for herself as laeO
as on Salzhu^g. We have said diat dnriqg the DCgostatisBs ibr the in*
demnities Germany was put up to auction ; it was now gp^irtto iif» to
pUlage."^/^« p. 99.

Baden and Wurteaiberg obtained considerable acoesskwis of
territory, owing to French infloence. ^ The object of' tite First
Consul was to substitute the infloeiice of France fbr tliat of
Anstria, and to create among the secofidarf Gertttaw- fltatss 'allies
and dependents/'

Thfbaudeau's original Memoirs terminate with the mtwqrtvres
and intrigues preparatory to the establishment of rive itnperial
power. The fourth volume of the larger work before us is cbieflj
engrossed with the particulars of that memorable transition* Two
years had not yet elapsed since Bonaparte had declared tbat
hereditary sueceseion was impossible in France, when the dis-
covery of the conspiracy of Georges and Picbegru was aoade a
pretext for reviving the question. The senate in an address to
the First Consul (March, 1804,) told him/Uhtit feeooghttof^r*
nize the new era he had begun; that splendour was liotfiing
without stability; that his work remained to be completed.''
Bonaparte replied cautiously that he would take time to consider.
At a sitting of the council of state^ Cambac^res said^ that the First
Consul wished to know the confidential opinion of each of the
councillors upon a question which would be stated to them by
Regnaud de St. Jean d'Angely. Cambacirea then withdrew,
and Reynaud put the question, '* whether it wair desinMe to
make hereditary succession the basis 6f the govefHAeot of
France?'* Berlier spoke against it, but, after a long cfiscusMMi,
protracted for foor days, the question was answered in the aiBr-
mative by twenty votes against seven. At the same time the leading
members of the senate,, the tribunate, and the legislative body,
were told confidentially, at various meetings which were held at
the residence of Joseph Bonaparte, that they must hasten to de-
clare themselves, lest they should be forestalled by the army; ^at
Napoleon was going to review his camps along the nonhern
coast, when the soldiers would elect him emperor by acclama-
tion ; that it was therefore wiser for the great councils of the
state to take tlie initiative, in order to preserve thefr owtt niflo-
ence and consideration, llie first mootiitg^ of the qnesftion took
place iu the tribunate. Cur6e, a former member ofthe convention,
gave notice of a motion consisting of three resolutions : 1st. That

Tbibaudeau^d Mmimn of Hap^kon. 359

the govdrwuQOl of die republic should be eotruated to an tmperor ;
2d. That the empire abould be hereditarily in the family of N apoleon
Booapwie ; 3d. That the other institulioiis of the country which
were aayet incamplete, ahould be deiinitiveiy settled in accordance
with the new organizatioa of the gofernmeot. When the day for
the discuasioQ arrived, do fewer tbao twenty-five nietebers rose
successively to speak for the motion. One solitary orator op-
posed it; this was Camot. The question was of course carried*.
The mMe followed next, in the same spirit. The legishitive
body wa» not assembled at the time* but the president Foatanes
collected those members who happened to be at Paris» and
cacfied aa address to the First Cooaul, expressive of the same $eai
timents as those of the senate and tribunate. In hb speech he
saidf amwig other things^ that '' the desire of perfection was the
worst disease that could aflUct the human miod/'

'' During ihese transactions^ the First Consul held private councils,
to which he summotied several members of the great councils of the
slalei 'Baeh stipakted for himself and made his own conditions. 1%^
tribunes wantod the period of their fbuctions to be lor ten years instead
of Are, .with .a adary of dM<^ ftanos instead of 15^000^ which they
were then leosiving. The sgiembers of the legislative body wished
also for an iqcrease of salary, as well as of the diaration of tbeir efficet
The seu^Uu;s wanted their di^ty to be made hereditary, and to have
an absolute veto on the proiects of law, and otlier privil^es. The
council of state alone askea nothing. Bonaparte listenecT to every
body^, matured his own plans, determined the extent of his own power,
and gjranted as little as possible of it to the others." — {Le Consulat et
^Etftpire^ torn. iv. pp. 2S, 24.)

At last the seuatus consultum appeared* proclaiming Napoleon
^naparte emperor of the French^ the imperial dignity bei^g
lasde hereditary in his family, besides various other organic
changes in the great council of the state and in the administrative
system^ Three votes only in the senate had been found negative ;
Gcegoire's and Lamhrecht's were two» the third was believed to be
Coral's. T^he senatus consultum was presented by the senate iu
a body to Napoleon at St. Cloudy on the ISth May^ 1 804*
Without waiting for the sanction of the people, he immediately
afisamed the tiitl^ of '' Emperor by the grace of God and the con-
stitutions of the Republic Soon after» however^ the " RepAbUc"
vas suppressed^ the juxtapositioo having been found too glaring,
fod he styled himself Emperor by the constitutions of the empire.
The question of the hereditary succession was then laid before
^c i»eople for their sauctioo. It bad the usual number of favour-
able votes, about three millions* Then the addresses of congra-
talation poured in from all the functiooariesj and the language of

S60 Thibaudeau'j Memoirs of Napoieon.

flattery m'bb indulged io without restraint* Seguier, president of
fhe ittii:^erial Cdtrrt,^a^'^ first 'toi'boWiit tte^focH'^rAt^^imM;
The clerlgy did ii6t rettiahi bebittd. ln^llitsk^addir^Mfceiib^^^SlMnl
Napoleon the mess^hger off tb^ Mmlii^i^^m^iki^^mtit^
band; others c«flied him a hei^ 'Mii^lmtkiMU^i^^
One archbishop actciany compftred himto CMisl;nf'^ll^4i|ta
Napirieon say he did not regret Uie cbhcdiklat<t%Hlf^^illj^aRi«^
the ittilitary that some dissent manif(ds«ed ^selfi^^^S^Mfk-d^^tot
resigned their cotn^isrions. BufPtl^iMiy ifi;' ^iMie^iA^nit^ttMd
of th^ exalCatioti of its fahroukite «iiitf J " '^ i"^"^ tfsolb[iil> ^nur
Thus ended the Frendl*' r«|*ubt)t^/>%lte# a MMaafy^^h^imsm''^
hardly twelve ye^rs. It b^to tti IMefM^mi^Vilffiblikf^k^
tiated in trickery attd m^stiMMM) 'TH^^at IM%
h^d n^ver iinderstbdd i«, m!iA yet a' ikiilioli^^^inhHf^i^^M awftiii
its behalf. The abolltivMi of tf^Msife ^tl^l^liS 'iiM^ ^ tka
preteitt fdr if; {lad been accomplish^ feffefe-b^lhtfKi^^aiii^SiM^^
which proclaimed the constitntionill fnOBf^t^b^v^- BM4bey^%<iJ^
wards rashly destroyed that^^onstittftion^i^and^tioilVtrfteti^tlrdTeiMrs
of continiral agitationVtlleyto^ r«feg^ und^ti«lttiitfitidl^4^ M^Iifl*
Mrial thitynevWitboM'iffy ^j^iller't^rett^titigidtiH^^
IS ei^ the ret^ioH prddttced hf^mm0^ ^tOfgthe^^vWflhwtttt
that succeeded eat«hoth^r dilrin^*^^ t^Wb |tMl^ift^ ^H^tthfr
was by ftir the best. ^ With' aHk^ ftult»/g6ttd[/SttgWitolliiltiMf^^^
an epo6h wbi^we k)vet6'dH<e}riiij{^ iWkiA^^mffi^t^mk^^tkshk
of pt^ace for Fi'aiice, ^'ftrefttbing ti»t^ fbr 'liltfnfeind^^^li^l)^^^
aanguinat^ violence oP t))e cbnventf^riahd* tlii'l^ff IdWe^l^iiMs
profligacy of the directorial ^^rliiti6ii%.^4iV^i^t«^^ittifo'i4^
order and reason- H'hetr the languag^ of fi^erieykilld^ Wy^feV tiil
bf humanity and jiisftiee, When dlie vilt4%iMs >efaii$^s^4tl<i^^iMflMis
again unefeHtood ebdi oth^r. ' lt*Was'K'b^1ltMit<'*^j|>diif;4il<^biA
tt^ny a good mto iti^very^Iand of ^t>6pe=lFMI hiS<lMl^iMMtorf««
faiAr f^ose sta^ seemed theh -to sMne with-»a'^bfe«toM4li^4liiit^.
ForiB time nit feast he e? inced a reBpetVfdt ^puMk>^|^iX)W*tt0d
morality ; he displayed feelings of ben«¥dletite'| ^t^M<ii«t>4itS
attention to civil matters ; hb te-^gadieed lb«^#Eiiiial'8ji«tMia<^IIe
showed himself Kbers^l tb^his friends^ mer<rifMW%is'%biiitt^W^j«t
towards Ml. Pra^iee wds greatly ihdeii^ed to^ftiM^fdi^lfaM ffMp^,
iH Whicb he ii^coristrticted it< as a «ta«i,!Md'^)iUt^)ilW(^a)Mi^«fi4
pe¥mtkti^iit'^atA^. ' -f^ bin^»e# 'thM%i^«4H^iAAofeidif^

SA^, ^mtWit ^tf1HAi«cy^^ bto i|b^ltl»|t^atepbigli^'^»ifid%eioto.
ntetf 'hr^1f'M4th' «^'n^atlifte)^>ta^ift[i^^
pirferogatf^es; Ihid his pm^r^^^at^todislJ^Mie^eisi^^
fdriDs df 'A reprcS^nUtiv^ cdhStiMiM, >ii«iy hr^1IMM>to •Mdie
FVtace a gre^t> industrious; wind' cMii^tiMi iklUiA tuMeail of a
military and conqu^riffg'oWi b^«[^h|lMv«tii^((^4toi^^ sad
died in peace, followed by the blessings of men* The Bourbons

Tbibaiideau*5 Memoirs of Napoleon. 36 1

«wei4»B9i4|f :foq|ottQiii i^evp. ciiiueii^cl h^n abandooed bj^ i^ tb^

p^Mratrv^ilv^.JmvQ {"fafM^Qpn's owfii asaefUoo of the faqW The

o^ji^ phuftifaAf^ i^xcvse for foUowing the course he preferred ii'ss

thj^ lUiMfCainty .of hisi )ife» and the conapiracies that were repeatedly

b«4fihed a^inai hiQ), But the pli^a U iiisu^kien^ for no conspi*-

fa^nea2ly«^ii4»Qgered bi» lifi^ after that of the infernal machine

WjJj9POi$;f^rafter.^tl,. did. the as^ium^tion of absolute power

mmtf M\t\k»inpA ((he bei^e4i^i;y aiicceaaion in bis fan^ily2 His

being childless ought to have been ^o odduioual reaaon for his

heiii|}ti9tta4edi'n#i a teiupQr^rjr.and Umited pow)^r« See bow

qmjrr^8^iftMq^$f4Wt,fiha^M;o4^ of succts^on apd hereditaij dy-

<i«piy(}e4i)iV9iMei : He mpudiated Ae wife of his chpic^ i^Uied

UiOteKT to %nyfji'h0uae^ audi f^ll at last aotwithstandin^ all, and

JMb tiily 4^ vhar^jt; reached the age of oianhopd after hipn^ He

AMh^^flB^Xh/^mc^e^^i^^ of .a conauqror^.and as such, he

^iHiJiie^tfblpQ^ rea^mbefied inhi^^*' Throi^b: itfie headlpng

€(|jieei;>(|/>b^i]tppi|ues||s.we'.b^ye n^itW wish.. nor space, to

^^^<m\imintt9mpnU Wof^el ao incljaat|on,tp>pas9 through

^iMri^f^fWrity/tbe |l|H¥iiy,«loryy< pf; t^Or^pice;! >^Jth its. hf^flmm

ffllffdd¥«^79MBKi4|igl0lie e&pedi^ns.l its^ m^m oi[ In^fa OMllipa of

WSkhi^ jpfiriod^ 'fields of battle* Pix, vMhnx ca^M^gie ; its d^pptie

4efMif9)iiiidb4Hgi4:bttUm attendant desolatioprof aon^e

^ell^ AJiil«|i|icpuoUiQ^a9^ things Mm no at-

*fl*p^i|>#Rr'.«ST.i4f(Wal hisioiy of. the .empire. rw^ains yet ia be

W^wiPiicffHT iArfAight iM^rt^.h^fiierely the history, of France alone»

^(ltw%^fi;allrJ^94pe Awngrtbatneppch^ it ought t((> be gathered

^ Mff }$^*fiafiPrrFfepcti or fing^ish materials^ hut /r<^in the pa-

^miife^wi^iiffGetmmyf SptaiQi italyiHolland^ Russiaj qf ail

i|b^{«Dll|ij^,ea thafriwi^m.lQroaei^ed for. ten yn^r^ through . the jeal-

^MRbitjy^ of; A iiAgk^ findiVidiial* . .To taUc pf siich a man bei^

'^ii^^f^immm-.of i3k greM popular priiHuple against i|ie ai^is*^

*WaW<rf{<EMWpi^# p€' his bwg: fw^d into wajr in his own d0-

^9<>49^flWeiip» to u^ipim;^ verbiage^ Was he fori^ed into the wars

^Spabj0rgC|fi:{ltt8iM<ifl Haa.he. notiacknowMged himself ^at

**ftLVPta*At'^i(|iwW»fcl monarchy? : Apd wfjie. other nations

.we% toimb^i4cv>bi»>diQlation 2 . Bnp it is Msaiess to di^onss

*>*««iirB*i»ftdlbarei wgjiflWBtc f>ne « gr^at t d|stin<5tiqn . spears

-^^iM ito HbAf ffNlemUyvoflirlpoked iiii JKapolmoyHV chari^fisr i the

;{^^^JPHinc0.rwid 'Of Noffih Italj^ ivas a v^ry difiTereptf .man to

jgaTt|i^Gta.i(ma»<^ Qfifipap^y^ of

^V^tf^(^pmf0i So«th.|talyii«4<^JU^si^,iwaa to th^ people

^<Mio^ qWAiries*r 3?faie aeAMPeoto^ tberefo^i, of many of the

fiinieii'iflttd Nordi iHiUawtoward^^ h^f^w ought, not to be tak^n

^"A mUMtk <oi .tbe» feeiiigsi of EMfQpe. at large*.

( 364 )

Ar¥.V« — 1. Collection de Documents ifiidUs $iir tHhimre it
France, puhliis par Ordte du Roi et pier Ui'mm du Mbtklrr
de rinstrtiction Piiblique. Rapports au Roi ei P&te$, 4to.
Paris, 1835.

'2. Collection, S^c, Premiire SSrie ; Histoire Politique* Jommol
des EtatS'Giniraux de France, tenus cL Toun en 1484^ tonx le
regne de Charles VII L, tidige en Latin par Jehm ^dnelix,
dipute du bailliage de Rouen, puhlii et traduitpour taptendhe
fots sur les Manuscrits initSts de la BibKothtque du IM^ par

• A. Bernrer, Atocat 4 la Cour Royale de Paris. 4to. 18S5.

3. Collection, S^c* Premiere Serie ; Negociations relaiivifs H la
Succession d^Espagne sous Louis Xlv., ou Correspomdas^ce^^
Memoir es, et Actes djplomatiques concertiant les Pretehiiom ei
tJtvenement de la maison de Bourbon au Trone ^Bspugne,
accompagnis d\in Texte historique, et pricides d'une IntriSucr-
tion, par M. Mignet, Membre de rinstitut, Conaeiller d^Ctat,
Garde des Archives dti Minist^re des Affaires Etran^^re^t 4to.

• 1835. Vols. I and 2.

•

Tub age io M/hich we live ia certainly one of great and gjiccntfal
exertioDSi and conseqMently of great workty aad the %Bi$f^ whidi
b^9 been elsewhere in action has not been wanting to< liteffniiipe.
It is an age of great literary undertakings^ voA^ in the adwiocs
which it has madej it is not altogether employed upon the pre-
sent, not so far wrapped up in its own selfishness, but that it can
spare time to look baek upon the paat. By nothing aioi)e^ in-
deed» has the present age been already distinguished^ than by the
oew views and the new lights which have been given to the kis-
tory of former times.

The age which is gone was to historians one of buildii^i' vptitii-
out^ or almost witliout, foundations — the edifice waa often hmnA-
4ome and elegant^ but not solid — the attempts, which were hiUerly
made to build firmly, only showed how deep and hroadtmiMit be
the foundations — how much riches and intelligence wooM be
required to dig them,. We are now gradually laying those louodb-
lions, and a period is fast approaching when the hietoriMi will
have bases whereon to work m , safety. He will be no longer
obliged to draw upon himself the repfoach of having wikten
fable, whilst there existed that which nught have establiAed tnitfa.

We ara^ indeed, arrived at an entirely new era of the. wiiftiog tA
history* Our former historians huve* it is triie, used docvments
and records* such as they could get at, but those were not good,
being chronicles and passing notiees, coloured by the feelings of
the parties who wrote them^ and mere literaiy documents^ pre-
served in public libraries— or, when the more accurate records of

Commission Historique and MngUsh Record Commission. S63

tiw public offices have been conBnUed^ it has been partiatty in the
eocene, and they have been often entirely misoaderstood, from
the limited Imowledge which the historian has possessed of docu-
ments of this kind. The old historians of ancient Rome worked
much in the same manner — they had their documents and their re-
cords^ not so numerous, it is true, as our own, nor perhaps^ except in
some instances, so good, which were more or less perfectly used,
according to the opportunities of the writer. Their earlier docu-
ments, were, like part of our older chronicles, founded only upon
still earlier songs, which had long lived in the memory of the
people*— but all are now lost, and it has been the aim of late
writers on Roman history to conjecture, from the notices of those
who saw them and used them, what was the nature, the authenticity,
and the spirit of those records. If all our records were destroyed,
and only the works of our historians were preserved, some new
Niebuhr would have to pursue the same process, and would find
the same difficulties in arriving at truth, or at an approximation
towards it. For, in the histories of our jforefathers which we now
potsess, there are equal, if not greater, errors and misrepresenta*
tiom than in the luttories of ancimt Rome — ^not only are facts
wrongly stated in hundreds of instances^ but the very spirit of the
times is misunderstood, and all our historians abound with errors
not much less than as though some future historian should represent
the Radicals of our day as sticklers for the aristocracy, and should,
«t the same time, condemn our Conservatives as lawless wretches
wbc^ souflht 6penly the destmction of church and state. Equal
and similar misrepresentations have long existed in our ancient
lNBtories« There we bad no public records to consult. But how
are we sufficiently to lament such errors in our own history, when
we have hundreds of waggon-loads of records of every period—^
authentic documents of transactions under the hands and seals
often of those who acted the chief parts in them, — documents
which would set everything right i

We mean, however, by no means to disparage the value of
chronicles and contemporary histories, although written by indi-
•iMnals, themselves partial and prejudiced, and often having no
'better authority than hearsay and common report for what they
tell. They also possem a great and essential value. As the Rolls
and other public records are necessary to verify and correct the
Chronicles, so, without these latter, — ^which give us the regular
dimi of events in their connection with each other, and which
funiish us with very much infcM-mation of a kind which, from their
nature, the others could not conmin,— it would be often impos-
sible tX9 understand, and always impossible to reduce into a con-
sistent natrative, the unconnected entries of the rolls, and the

S64 M; GuuotV Omadmm ^hft^ik

sUtemeQU of the lettets atii other itate-pBt^ers Whiro M^far e^|lt jitou

fot thbs^ \dio had before their eyes the events m all tteir'i^££ii^.

J)4oreover^ from the individual and unconnected u^tdrii^ of *]lhbie

iebprds^ here and there in the oKirs^ of centuno^ oiic^ (sdini^^Bii^

'unfortunately more) has, peridied^ and^ the chain b^eing'.'thus

broben^ the chronicles, the onl^ records we have left^'can-afooe

lielp us out. In thq earlier times, too^^^as ip England' lift tl^

twelfth ipentury, and in France tb a much later period^-^lfa^^ ue

'aUiio'st'the only historical documents we have. . f^roip tbetr'tiM^

inviting form, and their extent, these were, as might be esp^!6ted,

' ihe fir)it historical records that were printed by those ,wfad piib-

;fi8hed theil), id a g^eat measure, for books of general n^slcfi^fl|^f scad

|tfie Dticbesnes, the Camdens, the Spelm^ns^ 'the tSkl^^^ aiifi a

')io$t of other writers, have merited welt by their labo^ir* ik this

iieUJ ' Nbr ihust we forget the noble woi-ks of the B^bediqtin^

bfSamtelMJiur. ...;.*..

^li;cUb)Stat>(^e that men who were best able to *appreciatf|
anq who* Were tHeniselves distinguished by t^elrbistorlcallabdurs^
were then placed in positions that gave them easy access to the
'repositories in which they were laid up. It was the'cehtttijiii
which, lA England at least, more enlarged feelings Itud vi^ws took
tobt'j ah^« as those views expanded, 'there arbse simuha^edbsly,
earbr ih tlie last century, bptn in England and Prance,' ant eager
iiestre for the publication of the national records. Its firat.resiUt
in ^his country was the celebrated collection of the Fcfdira by
'Rynier, vyhicb was followed by the appointment of a cbiiimifeion,
that cootmufed its researches into the nature and condi^oii of our
domestic records for many years. The French' gdvernmeDt was
pursuing a somewhat isimilar course. In 1723, abpeared'the first
volume,' in folio, of the important collection of the Ordonndnces
des Rots de France de la Troisiime Race, collected and edited by
M. de Lauriire, a learned Parisian lawyer. M. de Lauriire'had
prepared the second volume of this great work, but he died be*
fb^i^ 'its'conipletion, and it was printed mider the care of M. Sfe-
codsse, ^ho also edited the six following volumes, and prepared
the. ninth. This last, however, was not published tiHafler^ his
'dbddi, ^ben it was edited by M. de Vitlevault^ who, in conjiinc-
tjbn with M. de Br^uigny, One of the most learned palseptogists
<i^hifl day, published the tenth volume in 1763. Tlie eleventh
an^ twelfth volumes were also published under the n;ame of /Ville-
vault^ and the aijc following were all the work of Br6(}uig»y« It
bad tooj^'beeft Ibe desire of Ibe Fveneh gevemlneBt to inititiite a
search mto the English archives for documents relating to the

and ibfiJ^n^lUh Reoafd Comn^iskku. 365

^^W Mt^^^^rm^ }t^ 17§^/| during thp pepw, the Due de
^^fasiiDj i}(^\k, ti)fui^.(er for foreign aifdirs, despatched M. de Br^-
^uttpiy on^^ mission to London, s^ccompan^ed b^.^kilful assjstsmts
to aid in transci-Ibing ey^r^thing that was lupst vatuablew. The
results of. th^ir labours^ a rich harvest, have not hitherto been
us<8d«,ana arf} deposited in the R.Q^al Librarjf at Pjaris.i

'S^Jhe two pountries, indeed, the national records are, ari() jiave
been^ in a widely different condition. The public archives of
Frapce are extremely po9r in ancient documepts. The earlier
stat« records pf (hat coiinj^fv, from the little care which hf^^.for*
rperly been taVen of theni> ffoui .thcj coiiyul8tQfi9 wjuch have .^o
often a^it^ted the kipgdom, fr.ORi thje vy?^pt.of a^ Q^ed. r^posj^oij
for their pij^servation in the parlier tloie^, have been alqapst a)l
destroyed or dispersed. Histpr^^ tells us hoiyVf^t, th^ Wtle pf
!6eUe*Foye in. 1 J 94,. when . Philippe- Augiiste/w^s, surprised \xy
Hichard I., the whole of the national afcliives of ^i^hce, which
^retbfn, parried about, w^i^h .th^court^ wfr|9 captured by the
iSfijwsb; fnd it was an important charter of Philippe^ lost on
~m^ day, and supppse^ to bq pfesery^d, jp the ^rchiv^ of the
Enjglish.texchjBqM forrned. ^'gpand'.pbj^ctsPf M. de Bre-

q^uigpy s inquiries., It ;s probablp, ho\yever,. Uiat in 'jEngland little
care was taki^n to preserve ^ foreign rf;cprd9 which conquest
threw into, our hands, and it wquld^ midee^,,be ^ vaiOihope^ that
q£ iinding much of the plunder at the present day.^ But a few
circumstances ijelated in the histpries have ted the french anti<]^ua-
rians intp the error of supposing Uint everything of this kind,
which IS not in France, niusf be in England,— an error Nvbich
has perhaps been perpetuated by the mystery thfit hasi hung over
the contents of our record offices, , The famj^ of the Tower and
its ixiarvellous treasures, amongst our continental neighbours, is
inqredibJe. We ourselves have known an instance where.a French
gentleman paid a visit to the Hecord Oilice in the Tower with an
urgent entreaty to be allowed a sight of a document which he
understood to be^ preserved there — that document was the origi-
nal copy of Caesar's Commentaries, in the hand-writing of its
author! Our neighbours have generally a very erroneous idea of
the nature of the Tower manuscripls-^Uiey do not seem willing
ta conceive the notion that they, are ent'^iely. state focords.

liy the causes just ^I|ud(Bd;tOj^ and by. U^ revpl^tic^^*^ of . 1 793,
W'hlGb di^^er^ed so niany of^'the smaller and f^royinf^I archives,
ttie number of the ancient records 'oif France has been greatly

'. : — ■■ ■ — i: — 1 ' ■■ ; —

* \V6 have some few miinuscripts wliicli ate known to have been brought into Kng-
tind durto^ our wars in FMnee» Tlie royal MS. I9| D* IT. in the Brillsh Musenni,
as fli ancieut nata iii it'l^lU «•• " liii ptii one la Roj da Fffaunce a la batoille de
Pejterj."

VOL. XVil, NO. XXXIV. C C

366 M. GuJxot's Contmiision Sistoriqtu

dimiiiithed. The archives of the public trffices feoerallj
only as far back as the middle of the seveoteenth century. TItf
Registers of the Parliament, now deposited in the beanttful SainlB
Chapelie (Section judiciaire dea Archives d« Royaunie), are the
tildest regular series of records. They commence by a set of
ancient registers, not very numerous, classed under tibe tide of
ttimf which go as far back as the time of St. Louis, about 'die
middle of the thirteenth century.

In England the case is entirely different We have, amoa^ the
records themselves, documents of different periods, which ^ow
how, in the earliest times, they were guarded with the greatest
care. In the thirteenth century they were spol^ra of as the
'' people's evidences;" and many entries on the earlier Parliament
RoHs show with what a jealous eye they were watched* In e
general petition, in the parliament of the 46th Edward III.,, the
commons request that all the records be carefully sought after, so
that they may be produced on demand, whether their tenor be
against the king or in his favour;*^ and we have at least one of
Ihe bonde which were made between the persons who qoittect Ibe
oflSce of keeper of the records in the Tower, and his successor,
specifying enactly the number and date of the rolls and other
documents which were in his care. Foreign invasion has for
centuries been unknown to us ; and it is probable that our otrU
wars did no great injury to the contents of our national archives
'—even in the violent convulsions of the seventeenth centuryi there
were few willing to second the wild proposal of the finatic Peter^
that it was '^ very advisable to bum all the old Tecords^ yea, e^rea
those m the Tower, the monuments of tyranny;'* and they ~
descended to us mangled only by the injufies which they
sustained from neglect in the three last centuries, flrom consMueni
accMents, and from individual rapacity. That they have suSered
from this latter cause, we have evidence in at least one anthenti^
bated instance ;t yet we look upon the charges brought agamel

f '* Itch prie la oommunci qe come recordet et qeconqae chose en ]« coort le n»
de Tcson dcvoient demurer illeoqes pur perpetucl evidence et eide de toux parties a
vcefy, et de touz ceux a qeux en nul tnanere ils ntteignent, quant mestter lour raist ; et
ja €k novH refntent en ta outtrt nostre dit sire de serche oo exempHficatioii l«ii«'«lea
nvllea rieut qt porra dtier en evidence encontre le roi> du desa? anUfq de If : Qc
pleiM ofdeiner par estatut. qe serche et exemplication soicnt faitx fts (out gents de
qeconque recorde qe ies toachc en ascun maner^, anxi hien de ce qe ctiiet ebcottfr^ |e
fioi eeme eiitrea gente.*'

Tbe anawei ^as, " Le roi ie voet."

t The foUowiufc was a case in tlic Star Chamber, " De termino Pasche» 15 Etiz.** — .
" Imbneling of Records. Lawrence Hollingsked comitled toihe Oateboiiee and fyoed
at c^^ and noe more hereafter to bee admitted to deale in any office of like place for
f imbczeling] the Records uf the Toucr to u |;reate number aiid importanceiathoosaiMt
at the least, many of them toucliing her highness right to other foraigne countries, liee
being tlicn serv^ to M'' Hennage, who hath the cliargc of her Ma''^' Recordes in the
To^f.^—Hatgrave MS, No. «16, ,p. 31 J.

and the English Record Commission. 507

Biyton and some of bis contemporaries, of having committed this
kind of plunder, as instances of the slander which was so abun-
dantly propagated during the two following reigns.

ft is not» indeed, without pride, that we look upon the regular
Berieli of our national records, continued generally, with but few
lacuna, from the end of the twelfth, and beginning of the tbiiw
te«nth centuries, up to the present day. Thus, of our rolls, the
Placita or Plea Rolls, preserved in the Chapter House, wbidi,
containing the chief pleadings and judgments in the king's court
(enria regis), and before the justices itinerant, ** give the most
important information upon every subject respecting which men
iprage legal war with each other," begin with the latter part of the
tmrelfth century. The first of the Pipe Rolls is of the dlst Hen. I.;
with Hen; IL they begin to be very regnlar, and are so continued
to tbd present time. We have also the chancellor's dnplicalQS
of these rolls, though the series is not so complete, which, by the
adgfeation of the Record Commission, have been deposited m
tbe British Museum. In the Tower, the grand repository af the
eflrlier rolls, the Charter Rolls, containing grants of privilegea,
markets, fairs, 8ic* charters of incorporation, of land, and the Ifte^
bc^in with the first year of tbe reign of John : the Patent Rolls,
of which Sir Harris Nicolas has observed, *' there is scarcely a
rabject connected with the history or government of this oouDtry»
or with the most dbtinguished personages of the thirteenth, fom^
t^enth and fifteenth centuries, which is not illustrated by them/'
begin with the 3d of John: the Close Rolls, still more varied^
begin with the 6th of the same reign : the Liberate Rolls, oott*
taiDing orders of payment from the king's treasury for an infinite
variety of purposes, begin with the fid of John (a.d. IfiOO);
the Norman Rolls begin the same year: the Fine Rolls begin
with the 6th of John : the Gascon Rolls and the French Rolls
both with the $6th of that reign. These latter, with the
Roman and Almain Rolls which commence a little later, are
chiefly diplomatic. The Gascon and Norman Rolls contain
entries relating to those provinces while under English domina-
tion. We have a Misae Roll of the 11th of John; and some
other rolls of tbe same reign. Besides these, there are others
vrtiich commence somewhat later, as the Welnh RoMs beginning
with the 4th, and the Scotch Rolls beginning with the igth
Edw. 1. We say nothing of the mass of early documents of a
different form, in the Tower; in the Chapter House; in the Aug-
mentation Office, where the carta antiqua go back nearly to the
Conquest; in the Pell Office; in the State Paper Office; 8lc. &c.
Tlie Rolls of Parliament begin with 18 Edw. I. The collection

c o«

of fettl in the Tmver ^enda with die reign- of: Bd«i;. 1V>#^ afler
wMch'th^ have been de|K)8i«ed in the Rolls Chapel. '

The forgoing slight eiiQfnerMion of the principal series of
documents which are preserved in our public offices ^ilt give
our yiettdersiiin ivkaof tile ttuns ofouiteiaals wbicb^i^xiyty «iiu»ed
hecMipeiliitbert^ inscitesaiUe^ for :tfat compilation ofufi eornect
biitory>bF«ar icountfy. TheGasizony NoriMiiyatld f rencb R^t
xAiith irera known only by most imperfect tcalendars^.wilAi^ the
miscellaneoua xfocdments of. tbe Tower. atid/tke £scb$iqAiQi^ ^tf^te,
afit^.t^enaf^tfi^vies of Pjn^ppe-Ai^.usti^,, thfe,^r»nd object of Bre-
V^ieay'% Mi»U Xq /mg^^^i/^nA ^9 account of. tin? ^^te jn yff^h
ke foMl^ ftbp9<)>r<eparfiai;'8Q0i»/{|fter tbfii middle of , the Yo^'cj^qtiiiy,
hnex^tmateVf inlerestittgi*. H^ began wiihibe *' fiiecbelqufr^'ff^r-

~T'!^*l)^jp{pce.s pireservet^ fhe TExdieqU^r are dividerf fhto t^rii etHises.
iff ^lai li^e in daily use; shut ap iii a great number of <^osets/i>re

Hf^e^'^M^***' P"^^**' *^^^^''®^^'^ known to tliose who havjttte '6tfe'|rf
them/ Those which are i-egnrJed as useless, are partW| 1^^a|«^1jc>g^fer
In fl^^pam|;,.ii^i^.n\a8$ about sixty feet long ftrid four feet hi^i^iitli^
u^yf^ |^VQ4.i^jp,>vit^6ufc order in an obscure cabinet, covered >irn)^ athick
U^WjiOf jupistand stinking diist^ a nroof of the long i^pbs^.lqf wUch
t^y^&if pedp left, and \^hicb woiilu seem sn^^i^^^ ^P. fi^^ J^^^M^
^Y^JfiW^Vj^^ disturb liieni. . . \ ^ ■ • i /• '...it^.<

„, f jjl^ivpriejr for three monlts in (his kind of chads, wftfbb^'l'ttiiiiial

With which t persisted in this painful and disgusting ^6i^k,'lf^2^MF
|iir^^h, ,a ,f T{)J^ pf commiseration, persuaded of the uselesstoei^' tijT toy

L.^nM^ i^V^^P^k^!^ ^^^s immeuse mass bf.old parchm6nt^;'ihe.only
pWea.Lfp^nd r^^lutiiig to prance Were, ancient statea|ent$ of the i^^fpt
j^pA ^D^rsenieptol( the revenues of $M^^ of our provinces lFo<iiierI|r otca-
j^^ bj t,be* Ei^isb, , Hd\yever, ^s the vouchers were jojflerf' to" tbese
statements, liiahy appeared lo hie to be of value in tbrowmg ^tgfit' il^pon

century, mere objects

century, mere oojeccs or curiosity, ^jjor instance, p exammipg a oviKj

.ra^i^^er .pJ[ the 4u(ies,.of th^ Custom-House of Bordeaux Vti t35d;|Imr

M^V(fe!?»%mH^^ -^^ that port, in tfic course gf ayeaf', a'b^Q[dned'and

W'nTiiMji l';.;r.! 'Hii Vi ■;!.■. !••■' !■'■'.■.•..- •. r-^~: — ,. . , .,{; Jp —

• It is not traevjn4i«4 ttttti M|KNrted;4Wit Ui«m lii$ l)^ii nigif J«Mai^i«w4tl)|t i^

^JJ^WfTcfiW^**!^*? tlw th^^ P^^w^ray Y^itecl llicw. Qu.iiie ccuiUaiyA^ W »««

p! ^'f'^^rflfo'*'*?! .^*'" .M'sCYV^r^d anq sorted of wbich he knew notliing,^'adc[ the only

'injViei wfilch the oiliens Have' snsUincd h f^robabt^ tliat occdsldned bjrthe fffi^ent

'ab<iittortiMo WhSbh M*cMiftweM(i«t lie Had veeq^iw.

amt ^^ ^gUdi MecoAl GeamkkiiAi. $fiS

forty^one^dbipsilid^n wilhitbiiteeDithousftiidlfotir'Mtidrnljnnil IfM^t^rs
iitoe tans of triiie/Mihicb ']|a(|..prod«ucad« ill^.|B^9tpa)-l|Q^^ ,<i^
tbDttMB4 one huiuJred wid four pQunda micl.fia^^eix pe^^ piQi^jrof

Bordcw^," ^ .:...,;;;. ,;.,,,;, ,..^

' After ktving made' soKie more vskiabieieoiketiQiiiiftoflii ibe
niMUMripts contained in old ehesU at llie ** Exofacftra*/' Ar6%«Mgii9(
re]jmM to the Britiifa Mdseutti,' whoait >nian«Bcripta.^ld<KliiMlil
a'yicA^' harvest of letterB^ qs weH «b oI^ oUarteii9'sadl oiigniaJliidlA
or ^e0t>iMe#est; LaMly, be reljpa!Ued'to'the<To<«^eF^trv,'.,:it . ,^ ...^

, '*J[ hasten to tlie most celebrated aiicl t'be least accessible oPth^A^i>
olf'tbncfoti, the qn!y oiie t IM ttewto V?ilt--ifb^ ahiMvts df' ib^'lWttl^
^/Fti. Carte asseffCed'tl^^Ctbese urcbiy^^^entdlned ttcPOiU^ ^Mtsil re4
tatfog'fer.^cMf bkftofy/^xefeprtbe enlrieklon t^e^Gaioftni NcMrnaoi/and
Er^yfh folb^.and it lyas my intention \o cQi^fioe myself to the trapacfip-
tion of tbe most essential of these, but 1 learptj,'witb aViHiu^

&^
to^thf

vfffftnf, fo tbci dust, tp the fermentation whicb tlie oaturi^l 'Vdtt/liMjr'trf

paviitiraent produces : part were considerably damaged, sind nl^^S^ritiog

in ppcticular so defacedj that, without the continui^ ablutidni'Wllteffwen!

pennitte4 me/ tbe sight of tlie^e riches would only ;ha\y self v^A'tb^tiitikifi

uj\if regret their loss. ' ' ''' '^ .;' ' '"' ' ."

*'* 1 can here only give a general idea of theni. 1 rit fiVitpcrcdWd

alhfi^t. fprty original letters of St. Ijouh, of tbe ^ueen Blanche hWinj^

of the queeji Marguerite his wife, amt of several prthces'of' l!ds^'UcNO<i $

fif|.X:five of the trench kiu^s fhilippe.le-Hafdt.Phllipp'i^^^^^^^

(ipue-lc-Long, Louis-le-Hutin, Charles-Ie-BeJ; 'the mll^Vit^' Af 'flte

^nswerft of Henry III., king of England, of hU wife Klf{<Ti6ye ttf ^*dt

veiftfe; and of the three first Edwarcfs. ' ' "" ^ '■ ,; ' '^ ' •"';''""

[' " 1 found several very curious letters, writteil in Syrr^'lri'tlf^iftfikcl^^tf^b

c^Dftury^ on the position of the affairs of the Cbri^ians in ihei'EUit;'iri

w)]jfc)i our .ancestors then took, so great a p^rt) a list 0f ih'e'ii|taUiH*

VM^ters of the Templars, of vvhich we had not an ^xact sei^esl aA'dH^biro

w,^.Q)aw in 134/, a v^ry short iimt after tlie destruction of that drd^r.

/*i found several ordonnances,of PbiUppe4e-Harail oP*5Phflt|^(/€*-lfe-

.iki.iof, rhiiippe of yav>i».' . „ , ,•. , !*' :, ■' •: • :'."" -'^^'n "

. , ".T foMivl such numerous memoirs oh ' tbe , differences n^^
kings of France and England during' three centuries,- tnai C&imf^i,
from tbem alone, compose a very detailed history of tbe fatal qnarreta
'MAM iM'lMi^^hiiasted'BftgUrriri'MfdtdevaMfltcd'lMncocij f>': '< H •
' *'Tfottfirf3'|)rodigi6i/s qWartiifCj^af y^?tfoft^(yf »th*tH^ifta»cr'lWfl^
of'ihiei.Ffenqli proviucjes wliich )iafl pa^seff Under the £f)'^t|shjupp? '{1^.4)1^11 •
llieir ancient privileges^ or tinm wUcU tb«^y!dcsi|i^>Q,tQbilaiPf,ari^igf}pi^

970 M. Gttisot^i Commission Historique

rally stated, and the answer of tbe prince ii ak tlie foot of tbe pekitioD.
TfaiM these acts establish at once two things of importanoe — the tnti-
quity of the rights which the new master coafirmcd, and the origia af
those which he granted."

Dunng tbe latter part of the last centuryi we must not look for
moch attentioo paid to the national records in France, In Eag-
land, though generally tbe records were most griefoualy neglected,
measures were pursued by government for the publication of a
few, and tbe Doomsday Survey was chosen to begin with. In
those days, however, sucb measures were not pursued with moch
spirit: in 1767 was given the royal order fbr the printing of
Doomsday Book; in 1770 the work was begun, and not tiU 1765
was it completed — that is, siiteen years after the order for its
pubtication I In the last year of the century began to be showa
a wish for more vigorous measures for the preservation of the
contents of our public offices — a oemmittee of the House of
Commons was appointed to examine the condition of the reeorda
of the n9tion, and to devise measures for making them mere pub-
lic. Circulars of questions were transmitted to tbe keepers of til
offices of public records throughout the kingdom, and the answers,
which are printed in the Report, furnished a certain degree of in-
formation. But in this point the work of the committee was very
incomplete, and a capital error was committed at the first outset,
in trusting to the information of persons on the spot, instead of
sending competent persons to examine everything. The conse-
quence of this was, that everybody sent the minimum of infbnns-
tion, and in many instances that minimum was rendered doubly
unsatisfactory by the incompetency of the person who communi-
cated it. In one instance, the keeper of the cathedral record*
confessed honestly enough his incapability of reading or decipher-
\V^ the documents which were committed to his charge. Another
evil, equally great, was that everybody stuck so close to the leU^f*
qf their directions, that nine-tenths of what really formed an im-
portant part of our national records were imnoticed. Of this we
have bmentabie proof in the insignificant returns friun tbe univer-
sities, and from most of the cathedrals.
• This same year (1800), on a petition of tbe House of Com-
mons founded upon the report of their committee, a Commission
was appointed by the king, for the purpose of carrying into effect
the measures which they had recommended, namely, the improve-
ment of the places where, and of the circumstances under yvhich,
the records were preserved, and more especially the printiog ^^
publication of such records and calendars of records as sbouln
appear to be of the greatest importance. After thirty years
labotirSy which had at least had the eflfect of increasing the know-

^
k_k

and the EngUsh Record CommUshn. 37 ^

ledg^ of| 9nd iiUere«t in, our staU records, and which had thus bad
some ahare io twwg up thosa who were to ^bow its defects, ^lis
Cofiimissioii became an object of great and general disiatiafaGliont
During that period, as might have been expected, a certain num-
ber of volumea had been published, but they were neither so
numerous, nor, in many cases, so accurately edited, as they ought
to have been, when we consider that during that period a sum of
JESM flOO sterling had been expended. In fact, the public money
liad been squandered most extravagantly ; the editing of records
bad become « kind of ainecure; and the volume? which were
produced^ after all the money which had been thrown away under
the headf of transcribingi editingj collating and correcting, cfin
seldom be used with any confidence, £arly iq IQSl, the pro-
ceedings of the Old Commission were made a subject of public
inquiry, which ended in its being replaced by a New Commusion,
with modified, and, in some cases, more extensive, powers.

The condition of the records in France had now again begun
to occupy the attention of the French government. In a Report,
dated 31 December, 1833, the minister of public instruction,
M. Guiiot, proposed to the king the formation of a commi9^ion
iiqder the surveillance of his department, whose object sbpuld be
to publish the inedited documents illustrative of the history of
France, which lay buried in the archives and libraries of the
kiQgdom. —

** For sboni fifteen years/' he said in this Report, " the stQdy of the
soorcca of bistorv has resumed a new activity. Men possessed of a
dear-sighted intellect, of uncomoion knowledge, and of laborious perse-
yeraoc^, have penetrated some into the vast depot of the archives of the
kingdom; others into the manuscript collections of the Royal Library j
some have carried their researches as far as the libraries and archives of
the departments. In every instance, the first attempt, in rummaging
completely at haiard, showed that great treasures have remained buried
hi them. The efforts were redoubled, and were quickly crowned by dis-
coveries as important as they were unexpected, by true revelations, which
throw a new light on different events, on particular ages, of our' history;
to that degree that we may perhaps be allowed to pre8unie« that the
manuscripts and original monuments which have been hitherto brought
to light scarcely surpass in number and importance those whicb have
remained inedited. • * *

" It is in the power of the government alone, in my opinion, to ac-
complish the great work of a general publication of all the important
and hitherto inedited materiab for the history of our country. The
government alone possesses the resources of every kmd which this vast
enterprize requires. I leave out of the question the means of meeting
the expenses which would be necessary for it $ but, as guardian and
depository of these precious legacies of past ages, the govarnment can
enrich such a publication mtb a mass of materials which private iudi*

vidaals migbtlahoDr iq ifEiQ.iO'C^Miiiiir .liis/Mibfralit^rk^ aml<i»Mliy
of the pttrooage which vpuik hmi^tv fiffi^4o.|^piqi«g9li9n of .pvb-
lie instruction and the diffusion p£ %bt. . . ^j. j.,,,. ^i. « j'. • »• " -

" But each day of delay renders the taskimprf ^ijpcuiti^i^t .only are
traditions disappearing, and thus depriving us of many means of coio-
pleling ami ittterpreyng the- written testtttioii'Mrbqttlle inoniliueAts
themselves are becoming tntetertaliy iiijdrcA. There lire miiny dejptMHo*
ries^ more particularly in the depanmenlsi, whei^ tlie lAore andedl piectf
are dbappeariiig or becoming iUeglMe, for wiltit of nec^aaty e«re. I
tbiofc it therefore uigent that the enterprhie should bet^utiftto^^tfotlM,
and that it receife ai Mice a nmSi^tiMltf gPik ^ktensidir.^; ' '

The proposals of the inWrter wcr^ ^t 6iice embi-deigd' i^y'li^
Ling. M. Gaizot began to lay the foundations of a .Cuti f na ex-
tensive collection of every klna of important historical docuioent;
a commission was formed, and a gmni 9I ^l20gQpQ francs was
voted in the ))udget to be devoted to this purpose* In ibe No-
vember of \SS3,.M> Gnkot addreased a arctuar to the |>refeets
of the depArtmenta, requeatkrg from ^eadi a preciM md detaU^d
account of the situation aiid contents «of 4b« libi^ries and ttrchives
of hia province, both with a view to improving and'Tegtilatihg
their admmistration and funds, -and of asc^Utditfg *Md m^o^
available the documents which the/ might contiiiju '*Wit,&' a fhfH'
lar object, a few months liter (July, 1854), a circuVar was ad-
dressed to the academies and so<iieti(?s- of learned liien wln^h W
been formed in the provincial towns., fri thislatfer ijkolitt, a
committee was formed, lindef the rinerfdfehty'bF the' mMt^t^f^ to
inspect and direct the derails of the nitdefrtdlti^^ 'whicb ^ira^'to
meet at least once every fortnight. The" members of tWs'cAn-
mittee were a!I men distingaished by' their 'historical know-
ledge and writiiygs: MM. Villemain; Dauriou, Naudet, Oufirardj
Mignet, Champollion-Figeac, Fauriel, Vitet, Jules DeMtoyCfS,
Graoier de Cassagnac, and Fallot, who was to act as sedtitary.
In November, 1SS4, M. Guizot presented to the kihg^ a Hewjit
more peculiarly confined to the Commission HlsioriqHef in wnith
he dwelt at some length on its objects, and on the! steps wfaitfc
had already been taken to carry them into effect, arid dcacribcd
several important publications which had alrefady' be^"c(^m-
menced. The vigour and activity of M. Gutzoilj cbmtnismn, at
its commencement, presents a strong cohtrast to the proceedings
of oor first Record Commission. The mini^ter^s last Re^i^y
dated the ^d of Decetnber, 1 835, announced the completion of
foui* quarto volumes of the collection, and gave the tittles of abou^
seven others wlach were actuatly in the press and in a greater or
less state of advancement* as well as many which were in prepa-
ration. To do aH this, the chamber was only called upon for a
grant of less than £5000 a year.

andtjke^ EngU$h> JtlMwti Commiwiiifi ^ 37S'

M^GiAMt'^'Rntmkieiy vftis tty dSimtiife'tfaecblWetidkiid'TirHjb
proVftlc^/'tt^^dM^^^ ttyeii^'^iftteflce arnf pfrb6ei*vdtiOn was'atWdji)]
the most precarious; and their contents' the least known, ^n UU
R^poftofPfov. 1834. he Observes— ,

** jn. Pftris^ and oertaia iomwyfew ia numb^f^ the afchiiirfis : arc .' i
met^^td^caUy claasedi and exact iny<entoriea of the ftteoes! depostt^iiitHJ
them have b^n eoo^ppsedt but ev^rywbeiie dseceigO'difOfdnDond"'
coffusiw).. 4t tbe «pQch o^ the. «ev4J[Mili0tUtry Uotibles, a .mat i]it^ity> u-
of^dAwni£iU«> till then preaerv«d in die amuaatinoDaaaariWinitiiftfn
castles, or in the ar<<biy(^ of ibe coiBm0ii9^ wer« at Aooe.deltvfir^in^ r:.

ported .to tl^e neignpouring niunic^pal}ties,,wer^ thrc^wn Qja^]e9ffy in|p.j^
barfi^ OT^fies^rted Ualls^ in several places even the rememj^ranp^jSr .
the^' titkhabiiotis) tnadle nediffentif;^ and without formali'ties/ is lost.
HeM^ tfee' j^erally cstaMished dpWon which has becbineV is;^e %^ ^
say^'Ciadiiion'in manv departments, that eVerythmg p^fiM^ed'liti'Hiiysy'''
tinoas 0£ agiiavion. Vet it iaoertaiii/that wettii^y ibuU recovel* a^dMi^ ^ '
sidlBolUe) patt of iheiOQc^enik acdiivesi eqiciaiaily in the epiaonpj^' toMf^s ^ < '
and JM)iPw^;.iyb«f^ilAfl*t>lirliameiit waa heU^:and:]tfaat!«.iiiasB>o£iiinv ^^
port^^. dp^Pf Ot§ h^ <b^iv ai^ved and , f e^to^ed ^o thei t(M(ynir mii^nki at u»
a ^igf^PfifJo^i.a cqnservativ^^ authority. ca,u»ed Ip b^„4^p9^^^,il^rt]»»)ii)
chfrfpfaces of* the districts the vifrecka of the ancife^^iabhRys^r^PHrwh
founaed with the charters and other authentic monubentfl.''. j. .,,^,. ,,j

j(fl,pifapf^ alf^PiBt . every town pf a»y, cpp^i^np^.tpo^^aea. i)

its ibupj^apal, aurcbiv library* . In a f^w in^tanf^^sf^^rrfroqiixt

tent9'bad^en tciler^bjy vyiell arranged and.caitalogjiiQdy'but,iu,%i.. .

far Uie.gfeat^r nupoJber they lay in confusion and neglects . Tboa^ .1

whojiad t(^e care of ,tbeni w^re iu ge^ei^al .tatallyuntit fpXiX^un

task^ and we have heard of an instance wbere tl^ office, of towilinf

libmrian^i^d ^eepe/ of the ^epords was dispu|^d b^yvi^ff^ ^.^fbofiji. A

mak^r.andf Mre tniuk, an innkeeper, ; and in sfiotbfiv iqasp.DisiiDii^iif/

officf.J^ajd be^D givea to a boo[kbip((er; pn acpoui^lof) tj^^mprr,^ *

pofe,a j^ccessarj connection of hi^ tradie, witb litieriitiir^ aiHi aft^r*! I

his.fjeatli it was foi|i|d that what hiMl been noble ; ^olnmep of iiir

MS$.'on vellukn were reduced to mere covers^ wb^*^ qontentii •>>

ba4, strenglbencd the back of many a goodly yolujne which >ha4i>:ii

passed through the librarian's abop. 14» Quiisot iM^p^ed ,M miae/ .»,

in tfie miiuijcii}al i^mborities, some einulatigin pf pres^iyingi.aodwfi

coOectipg, th,^jr jrecords^ he establisl^d a cocrespondenfci? .Nvitb^u

suc^.Kersons in the. prpvinqa» as yuere .capablie pf e^i^miniDg w4 to

appj,ec)atiug.Uie documents themselves,. and. wb?r^ no aocbipti^vbh

80119. cpufd i)e,.(ound be sMpplie^ ,llieir pla^e ii>y. ar^ebaaologfatiirt/t

from, Paris* . Lists wiere afao cdrq^atiedl of tbe.{4acea tyber^/ >^

records ^ad, e^^isted before. tb^retolHtiony^whiph.WiifuldiA^Kerio- .1

. point put the probable position wVer® •Mcb aff had ndt baen'i :

destroyed might be sought. . .< : * >V ''mi:

374 .M* GuizotV CcuMiiifJCMi Sntonqne

In som« of the towM were formed bninoh coBiaiiABioiUk m at
B^aaB^mi. The publio library of Betan^on it ibe depoMiofir of
ibe vast coltectioD of papers of the cardinal Perreoot de Grvi*
velle, principal minister of Charles V. and Philippe II., coaatil-
ing of his correspondence^ of the notes of his agents^ and of all
the pieces relative to his administration in the Low Coanlries
and in the kingdom of Naples. These papers hs^ve been sub-
jected to a complete analysis* and the more valuable are now in
preparation for the press,

** The rich and precious archives of the aneient counts of Flmnders
are preserved at LiUe : they contain documents whose date goes bmtk
as ikr as the eleventh century. I an uking roeasurest >& concert with
the pr6fet du Nord, to cause these archives to be explored^ and to
select those documents which may appeav worthy of publk^ioii.

** The remains of the ancient archives of Roussillon arepreaerv«dat
Perpignan. Among them will be fbund interestiiw information ve-
lating to the history of that province and to that or the relations be-
tween die kings of France and those of Aragon. Numerous spoliaiiotis
and a long neglect, from which these archives have at length been
preserved Dy the seal of the hbranan of the town of Perpq^osn, liave
not so impoverished them but that they may yet offier impoitaat docu-
ments.

** To Poitiers, where are deposited the archives of the ancient pvo-
vinoe of Aqnitame, I have sent, with the tkle of arehivisc of tb« town,
M. Redet, one of the most distinguished pupils of the Eerie des C^nrtses.
M. Chdles, of the same school, has in like manner been sens to liyons
with the same title." — Report ifNiyo. 1884.

In his last Report, M. Guieot reverts again to the resemrches
whteb were carried on in the departments —

'* Already the sreater part of the libraries, or collection of archives,
bave been carefmly explored. The correspondents of my nfittistry
-have been assisted in their researches by the persons whom' I have
sent into different places, and by a great number of leamed men, who
have offered themselves voluntarily to the administration^ Several
general and municipal councils have voted extraordinary fbads to be
applied to the purpose Qf cataloguing and classiiying their aschivea.
^ t a • a « «

'* Dr, Leglay, one of my most active and jntelljffent correspottdenis,
has been employed in bringing to light the rich depots of the depantment
du Nord, and particularly those of Lille and Cambrai* He has con-
tinued the inventories which were compiled with so much care by the
Godefroys before 1789; he has pointed out, in the Catalogue of the
Manuscripts of Cambrai, two cliapters of the chronicle of Molinet
which are not found in the printed edition ; lastly, he has made IffiOwn
two works which appear to be worthy of attention, the Memoirs <f
Robert d^EiClaibes, a gentleman of Hainaut, who served in the army of
the League in the times of Henry III. .and Henry IV.,. and tbeeagf

atid ihi EwUnh Record Commisnon* Sf5

Me Banm de Vmtrdm, contaiiiiiig a xnm of niCrfWtiiig and inedited
inibramtifMi coBecmiDg die puUio aflpuia of die aerentaendi cenfeary.

*^ MevsfB, Redi^t ami de la FoataiielI« have exDlored the archives of
Poitji^ra, M. Morgan tbo9e ^f Saintes, M. MaiUet tho^e of Rennes,
U. McHini^rs those of the Jura^ Similar lahours have been cora-
menced by M. Mermet at Vienne in the Dauphine ; by M. Ollivier
at Valence, by M. Morellet at Albi, by M. de rormeville at Lisieux,
by M. M aiOard de Chambure at Dijon and at Semur. Various raanu-
scripta and curiotu documents deposited in the library of Lyons have
been pointed onl and examined by Messrs. Monin and P^ricault.

** Ai the «ame lime that the eorreopondenta of die ministry were
employifld at certain statiMW in seeking inedifted monuments relative to
tha hiaicirgr of tbeiv towns or of their ancient provinoes, several journays
weto midertaken by my orders both in France and abroad.

*' M* Weiss was charged with, an excursion in the departments of
DouVb and Jura, for the purpose of examining all the pubhc or private
collections of books or manuscripts.

*' M. Micbelet baa visited all the collections which occur from
Poitiers to Bayonne, from Pau to Toulouse and Montauban, from
Cahots to Bourees and Orleans. The result of his investigations has
been giveA in along Report which he presented to me on his return.

*^ M« Graaier de Gasssgnaci in a visit to the South of France^ placed
himself in personal relation with the correspondents of my ministry in
all tbd towns through which he passed* and he examined the state of
the dop6ts in which they were employed* the results which up to the
present moment they have obtained* the direction which it will be
desirable to give to their ulterior researches, and the means which can
be placed at their disposal to aid them in their labours."

Thus the e^Laipination of the provincial libraries and archives
has in France already produced very beneficial resuit^y and has
furnished several works now in the course of publication. We
think that our own commission has too much neglected the
country libraries and archives; for, though from many circum-
stances they are not so promising as were those of France^ and
we would not willingly have any of the valuable works which
have been carried on in the national archives of the metropoIiS|
the Tower, the Museum, the Chapter House* file.* neglected for
the more doubtful results which a search in the provincial dep6t8
niigbt furnish, we still believe that there remains much to be
gathered.^ The numerous libraries of the universities are rich
in manuscripts of which the larger portion is to at! useful pur-
poses entirely unknown. It is probable that they would not
furnish many works of which the publication would come within

* We believe tbi^t there sro many important collections of MSS. ia (bi« coQQtrj
^rhich are as ^et unknown. The attention which has of late been given to thera has
flight many to Kght which no one bad even dreamt of| and scarcely a day pasMs
^iHKniit oqr hvsriag of aoue new diicpverics.

376 M; Qmtot^s ^€oiA^f«H^il&f&>i^'

tlie preset plan of the Ree(Jrd'Cdttiti^faMiV<ifvliose>bM^«t6;1^
the vase mass of matei^als df ^' iriordidtfe^dtNT ehsrimkr^m^A
exist in England, mast neti^arify/fbt' a tUM^tti teMt^^b^f^vy
much circumscribed. Perhaps all that we ha1^'Wir]g;fcl«t<^>criif|MM
of the Commission is a tdltsra'bly at^curate eiitaloglli^ dP-UM Wt>st
important historical niannscri^tj predehr^A^in^tfkr^^ftiAit^tidi,
Yet we confess that we lobk forward' td • fioiietliittg 'Mm^
We have long been in the fabit 'of ' lading* >flits^triiwi4y«ripta of
one of our utiiversitiesj aird w^rknow li<}^^ vatttabte^^tte^A^'shovt
scraps and notes of an historJebt ntttore'^WiAi M4)lkll^tbe^<4lM4t#,-
noties written down by (:6nt^npot^^ inWb'^>4^si»i<lt»i^^
tbe events, and whfettf oft^ Aippiy^tfcttiiMiiHde^<itf^li^lny
arenoMfd^rei e1s% to b6 found; W^ d^^^ fi^h^MfW^es}^ cMf^
bgue, wherein tAl the 1arger%istort<^l mbmi^^i4fl»>yhlAt'|y^ibili^
fnllj and accurately dtdscribdd, and •il^h^rein'evi^^hitj^ %f tH^'Mltrf
to which we have jnst aV6(i^ shaU be pi'ilrted'^''terigtflfji ^The
value of such a work may be ea^y coift^ivMy aMi» tb^^'VMt'i^
by no means so difRcult or so great W'«t iS¥iM"8i^4k InMy^'iiM

There U another elfish Of ihiirtoi4^aHoeii4ii«nty^^ilAi(f^ tll« j^
vincial librams may ftflbrd, dWu^ttenrt of a wyy'hiMt^Valttft^q^l^g
mean anei^nt correspcindi^tiee'. Bdl4i'llfe'Q6tfiMisimA lH«Mriq«^
and thef Record* CommiskixHT have '8l)(>^'n^thl),ir«^^«MMilP fl^itfti(
materia). Ai famity corfespohUeb^ge, What'<^ie[/i b^'^odfo|k(^itt<
terestitig and nioi^ ValoaMie }HiistrtfticiiVO<<^lhd4ll8C^^ iftfMi ^Idttlo
feeling of fi somewhat y^mot^ period tlvan' tte PUMm'^n^ie^
of which five quarto volumes have* been" puftlit^^i' ^AliU<^
believe that much' c^^respohdencei Md-^that bf %' tKbt-eC'l^^lic
character Hian the letters of ttr^ Pa^e^n futifAh, etini'ite^'<|c%ii'
cealed in different parts of Bngtand. In 'iiW;.MMsl€Mft->4kttniy
residenee in the coUiUy of Ddktam/tilradilli^^^hlitfliMgffilkiMed
that there were isomewh^i'el coA«ieaf1ed ill il ttnportifni'dodiinfW^
l^lating to the great rebellion of the Mrth id^the i4igfr>or>]3l(»*
beth. It had b^cfn so long re^eatedjthatd %egMi>ot«i>l*dk«H
on as' a m>ere trsldition, when a gei^tleniail act|(MiiM«d*%idi>'fii^
ftimily resolved Orie daytb hiidke a <:omptete seafr^'aA^tlMP^qH
posed historical t#ea^ures of \\v6 faoUdfe. ' 'Evdi^'coit^l^^iks^kre^
fully eKamined, artd the ente^priife' was dti'tbe p^nt'bf lb«2tij(ii^
linquished in despair; when CorioJitj; a!ttr&(cled>^ tfibll'^klif^ii^iM'lo
an old 9tWmg bo5c, whicH wk^ tkrr^Wn -asid^ ' mW»w^Ub^ 4ktahi»j
and which had no a^ppearands' of'bkvitfg •beiftn <i^€Kt4U' lb«'t'bei&^
tkAtfA. "IV'Wa4 ^W at last^y^ptilM, tfhU %a^ fblMd »d/^e *i»iit
dbcUki^tlt^' bii!te)f^lv^'bb(te6^^diMHi '6f Ifh^ tihi^ 1^«)Bltaibi»Hl(
with malty ix)yfl[l'ietfe^'s) Uh^VeliitM'lihiefl^'Wth^s
there were 'ihtb^^sMt^'^^iad^ «y ||^te*<;ooeefit^uifti^r<tM^

^ the fyiglUk H^ixri Cqmmtsi$n. p? 7

lOti^jp^lfNsl. In. iU . Tb^. g^tttjmnun to wbaili we owe the discc^very
ofilh^e^H^lifififi Sir .CuUibert Sharpe, who w« believe hai» now
ia th%ipr$uev^ It bistoij of tiie norKhem lebc^Uoii of 1569^ chiefly

iKfteri.ih^ univeri^iuesy the most importaBt^ probabl^yof all our

prpTJunoM I ^rcbive^ ^Ke tboae^of tbe c^^beflraUi aod there is the

gir?#t#r 11^(206^ of niakipg,.^Q iijMXi^diate inquiry into, the nature

iin(ii^^«4ilAW'Of the dQ€;uii)en^ pre«frved tliene^ because they

h%s0A%i^tcym9v:f'Cf^^9 9Ai(>sa lQQg.b#9^i!eft in a atat? of.the most

dl^ph^filJiile neg^K?^. Every 4;>f)^^b^.l^:,r.e4d Gunton'fi History

V#<Wft« VfbAti avb«s%utif^l if:oU^^ii9^.of ,,mi^nnicripta.tbe cathedral

f( 1^Qt9r)iMo)^biRrimf)j{ IH^^^)^ W'^ hud^urp^vesjiio long

tM9^> i|g9»«PQfa4m toi v^kfi. iii^irie;^.,»f^ef certain mAOii^ripU

wbtf[b^iWcr;b^lieiye|4.iPiWrt tberiejMpd.^a,0[pi* aurpri^q we were in<-

<qfm^Itl^4hf^^ \vAfif nptft^aituglpm^^ ort vellum left» that

^X^ P9^rr j|i^PHi$c;^pt9, weirq all .tha4 . jc^snaiiMd. Of course thia

W^ffmU^ M n^t 4Pa()^ ta tb^ ^U^io^^ts^ among which is tbe

?X9§'¥>miV ^iitaBrSw»if^tl)3," fipntaw t)^ lifc of Uie S^xon bero

Hereward, which the writer is at present editing from a transcripl

tMtj vll9if<«fQedif,imd^<.foii tb^amiquari^D. Gfl^^^ Her^» it is
%4PP<mA > ^bftt ', mwy ,of . tbo. triQaauKes . of P«(^boxoJMgb librairy
b»pf.i5*Wl4 .<h^r( wfty ©to . p w«l|e colJi^qtipna. The. 4?aMie4ral oif
1l4n«ohA<l^9Wus:m4nyM v»ltfiil49 ^ecp^d^'at^d pjiher. mafiuscriptsiy
spi<ta..tbo«B:pf W9r^:/«4^r .994 Her/eford »and .&e^^r, and, many
9tb^^ Md tbfi^wb., library; Af, Uwham; i^ well , Hno^wp^ inan^ of
^bQf(9^tr9ftllM0l ^^ UWjf (9 be. nwade. public Jby ,tbe m^ritoriOHa
efl^rMA^f tbe,S>arA90f SiQ^tty.

••!]Miapy>mvoirtai}it dooumfgi^ts aro Imkiiiftiuprixfatefepoaitories in

o^ pix>Jf iniig^ JH^yp' qi^py/yalmbip cha^lulari/es of ^lomsMvri^s

b%Y(li)»efw>b<Higb[t and sold; ^if. ifkU> years I Sope have heem resoled

frmi/$be<1n09t>obliel^r<.l9f)r^eKSr:n^^f,1ve believe in owe iqatance,

A[oinMilhe;,sbopi.9f ^ dealer. in. wy»i^Uau^QU9 >Gurio9itie3. The

a/roWj^e^^ of the /Q^Mes vi'/^a. dispersed at a muchjater period

fban.iibpAeof .l^he.#iiopaM^ies..,/J^'be U&t giiardian^i^ of Ludlow

Ctisttej 4he. awi^iH .fiOMCt of i^e ipa^cties of Wale^, were obscure

pmoiil) w^ll^.eiKH^ad th»m^Vf^^.^9fH\ tiie plunder, and sale even

Qt:jj^^/urniUire.and..iOrnameMtcbaa4 U^adiMpu points out private

Mi^iduflls} off.thi^ county aa thq fp^^^sof^ qt aaany inipor^nt

nvctiiBd^f'wbich fii^rn^ied pari of .(he. appi(s« . S9^9^ r;ather eafly rolli

mliiMbei:i;do«Mi«#nta w^iph f^ifmeiFly b^lpoiged.to ^oioepf tb^e

W^lsb. /|as^}^.f»d munkipaliti^A U^t P^j^d th^o.^gb our, own

ba«ht..„,W# €;oi^i|ler At.tbe (duty cof .^ I>#cof4 Conupissioo U)

bHA(i0^<^fuUy into siioh thii^^arr^bfy should uia their judgment

b}i|)finlji|g [that, wbicb #9 nip^iiecemary» but tbey.should lisave

MQllJMiigti^nKm^wj)*! Vfethwkf iiidefi|^K.tbattbf.g9v<^nia»ent should

378 M. QnhBoes CcmnusiUm Hhtm^

cause diligent inquirief to be mide after the records wlttd^ m
not deposited in public offices, that a report should be ofatakied
stating their nature and situation, and the possibility of coll^cthig
them.. It must not be forgotten that a lai^e portion of the moat
valuable of the Admiralty documents now line the sbehres of the
Pcpysian library at Cambridge. It is by no meana creditubie
to our government that the important collection of the recordi of
the ancient abbey of Battle should not have beeui ere this, de^
posited in some place of safety, and their value as legal docu-
ments properly attested.

We iivould willmgly suggest to the consideration of oat Record
Commission, the propriety of puUishmg the ivhole or, at leasts
a aelection of our mcmastic chartolaries. Their great faistoricid
value is well known to all who have read the history of our cod-
stitution by Sir Francis Palgrave, who has ^iven some ttost
interesting illustrations from those of Battle, Abra^on, Caen, flee.
The chartulary of Ae abbey of Bamewell contams ttUch vmlua-
ble and curious information relating to the earlier histoiy of the
university of Cambridge. Many chartalarieS are preserved in the
British Museum, many are found in the libraries of the univer-
sities, and many are, as we may say, scattered over the world.

Although we would not desire our Record Commissian to
neglect any of its publications by incurring the expenses neces-
sary to a complete and satisfactory inquiry into the conteilta of
the provincial Kbraries, we still think that those libraries, even for
their intrinsic value, have claims to their attention before tboae
of the libraries of other lands. We look, indeed, with some dis-
satisfaction on any money expended upon foreign conrespondence,
because we cannot see any proportionate advantafes wiricfa
are likely to be obtained by it. In this respect, the Freocb
Commission hold a position entirely diflFering from our own, both
because the records of France have been scattered over Burope,
and because the objects of that commission embrace in a great
degree the history of literature and philosophy, of which the do-
cuments are naturally more widely dispersed. It was oti this
account, that M. Guizot sought to establish a connection widi the
historians of foreign countries, and that more pftrttculariy in Eng-
land, whither, as early as the Auaust of 1 833^ he sent M. Francisque
Michel, a gentleman so well known by his publications of the
early French and Norman literature. The first and grand object
of M. Michers mission was the transcription of the large metri-
cal history of Normandy, written in the twelfth century by Benoit
de Sainte-More; but his general objects were more of a literary
than historical character. It is, however, not easy to draw an
exact line between what is historical and what is merdy literary
in the writings of these remote ages, and many of the publicfitions

atri thi EngiM Record Cemmissum. ST9

wfaidi have alreadj arisen from M. Michel's researcheft, which
were confined to London, Cambridge, and Oxford, are equallj
valuable in whichever point of view we regard them. One of
the most important results of bis mission will be the two Volumes
of inedited documents relating to the Norman Conquest of Eng-
land, of which the first has lately been published.

Tlie volumes of the collection of the Cammusion Hisiorique^
which are now fioisfaedi partahe more of the nature of our State
Papers than of tfie general publications of oot Record Com**
mission. While they want nothing of the severe accuracy of
state documents, tittij still possess a sufficient interest for the
genefal reader. Three volumes only have been actually pub*
lished; a fourth waits^ we believe, for the completion of a volume
oi folio mi^s, which are to illustrate it.

The first volume of the series is a diary of the proceedmgs of
the States General of France, held at Tours in 1484, drawn up
bjr John MasseUn, an ecclesiastic and one of the deputies for
RcHieOy who by his <eal and talents acted a very promment part
on the occaeion. The abases and disorders which had crept mto
every part of the state during the reign of the ninth Louis, and
the feebleness of the government which immediately followed his
deadi on fhe elevation of a minor to the throne, rendered it neces-
sary to call t<^ether the representatives of the three estates of the
kingdom ; and their proceedings, which Masselin has given at
fall iengtli, afford ns an hiterasting picture of the little immediate
good which arose from- the eodmoors of men who, from the
circumstance of thMr labours tttd counsel being so rarely called
for, were not accustomed to state business, and who therefore
Were not skilful enough to make their endieavours efficient by
unity of action. The chancellor of the kingdom opens the par*
liamenl by a sufficiently long and sententious address, vrell larded
With quotations from ancient authors, in which he enters most
fatly into the praise of the nobleness and authority of their new
kiitg» mixed up with flattery of the deputies on the score of the
tried loyalty and obedience of bis subjects, not without some
bittef reflections on what he considers the wicked inoonst&ncy of
the Comnkons of £ngland«'*'

'^^ Kowh^re do W6 read that even fdr a single day either inconstancy
of mft^d, or the too great seventy of tlie royal orders, or the victories
of the enemy, or any extent oi evlli) have oonsttained the people of

- - - ' — -*- — - — •-* — — — ^^-»— ^ — ^>.^-. — -■ ^ — ... t .. - — ^ ..■■ ■ . ^ - - ■ - .

* In another place the Narniinis pty a high compliment to the niodentlofi of the
Eoglith> In their wan,—" What disorders of war will jou compare to $o great a de-
solation ? Would you speak of the English ? Hiey did not born our towns like the
Burgondiims; they did notpltinder; trrev did not kill or take your people j they
sought only to retain the edtttitry, not to deitroy it.''— p. SS4b

.j^roofB o^ your devot^ment to princes, arid oJf'Vfie' tre^sM Vif
, truIV a M^hole dny.wbiild have'beiU as riOtW/' U^Vtt ^fflt« ^kakth
^ tion ouV ti^fgHbdiirs; the Eif^Wj'i'GoiiBKlef, I 't^fay^VhUi^tfi^'^VMAts
which have occured in that country since the death 'of oKftig^B^mM.

.^ uons, jp.raii^i she l^oveth to cliange the reignmg ^VnVineby'^&iMl'^ MlMfrt
the legitimate heirs.* \V<fe' refed even that finte ftl* titrte"WHeh«ftife*iln:t

.>^<»^.^PW'^f 1»iat fiomiiry, the;y; ^reVfit'Jhe 'lj»*;«««{^y
.fyl^,(^ty«and, tq datp from (h^ beginning of tn&ir monaraiTp Uie
',^jve9^jf-5Jxtli.. No one, dpubtli??^, will /ri^baclt thp Mt^
* With Aucn inconstancy and, %uc{i a mass bir'(^jmes/*-~b.' w/'' '**-/ "•^■

Withoul doubt the chancellor dated the coromehceitletii' oroiir
'^Mbntfrchy fttrttiAht day^ ^rf^atioiciitiCiittte*'/ »i . . .ihii|uU u,t j

'' ''^f1ife'0McMi^e irf'tbe chlah<elloii'^a^'foU(^^
^ i^ditrtk tMimAi^hitian of tktf itnaks ijltd-wMwoi^ui ivbidh^' PMig

other things the prevdier dotntnlNidediiW iDtiopflnda o0jil)fij^i«|g,

yi^hif^^tjike a canyass, clean, polished^ and white^ is.jgiven us to
' *f)^iu,t MJpPn^ s^n<^ that it was necessary abbvje all <h)iig'$;Vb iike c^ re
..,ihpb |¥) ,?taift.pf feUe colp.urs sliould tpucji .it; fo"'^ as^dl^e^jsjhiDJtjbf
. /cUrt .M eHQUgii ta.apoil a^biie wall, 89 tbe 1^$(. sM^.9Mim^l^,iis
imm) destraya inaocenoe. Bui ik oi|g)u to t>is puiplect ^11^ jj^^ji^d
*■ vrifth^'true -atid noble, tfoioms, witli gold. illi4.«ily/ir».WH)i^||)Maile
"*ak\Antufb,'ihni is, with* tfa& four capdinaLaad .noytL vintiMMif ...He

fjrreached'iotT^ i^json-this theih^." When 'the>depiilie8i«ietion

' bykhi^ss^ their first ea^e w^s to^vide thenfselv^ mte^mtKiivi-

"j^lons^Tor the sake of avoiding co^fusifon^irhicti MldivMiMft were

.^I'e^cV (9 deliberate separately, their several re$5hrtbn9:to kk ifter-

,<iSv^]'^\ (V?mpai:ec) ^gether by a. council cc^pose^ 6t ti certain

iiWiin>bi^npfi;pii?r,w>i)/* ftom j^af:\\,, Tlieir.fhoic*. of apreside^j^ Vra^

tfiwftivepylihappy, jand^tbe b^Qflt /^pirit^Qf Alasfpli^^ j[)r/^s( out

bifnoi«chan>oiK}6;mtaiiiidi{piatioii isgansl bi$ CAodug^.^ , At^iirst,

/Hitfji)! f¥ *)i — Ihm ) Ih'.'i i ■' I )'>!. 1; u, " ',''•'; .-'t'jiti '.' \ ' .' . —

^tui'*i0if\€i9aMHittil%fiO9m» v^af gvjlty.of rercaUng tlie sccrc^^ of ,Uie aasnyil^ly ki liic
liinpW^Mi^>{t oi|c.opca«ioa^M«8^1itt leU al'i^ the foliowing ^hreat. **'Cennire/p(>n(^

I clifi^ni. doinipus prassideni^ ct quidam alii profe^to digni »ont; s«alSbafqfiie ciUrittflifi, >i
posC'tiVc iit}i\ recfiiis iittibafenf/' S«e psHicnlarry pp. il4^1tOw

mirth ^i^li$h^^ord C^mium* 381

things Mf«at on very hirXy; ihe- dukes of Orleaiis a»d Bourbon
eneouMgM) add fljUteMcl |Ih| €0|tiny>n9j doubtleaa with their own
parlkular ywwi ; tmt^ when |he z«»l of the deputies begun to give
Ombnige td i\i^ party iti po W6r, the latter began to show that
their only object was to deceive them, to obtain their nosey, mm}
then to treat them with disrespect. In one instance their repug-
iiapce to agree to what they considered the exorbitant demands
af .^ti# court Hpoi^ their purses drew upon them gross insult, and
the pecson who uttered it isi supp<>sed to have b^en the Duke of
BkM*boii himself-^ . .

" I»^ said he, '< know well the manners of clowns: ' if ifaev Eft not
ftttflSeiently. oppressed with burthens, they soon become insolent ! If
thei^fore you relieve them entirely of this tax of t'oiiies^ they wffl hn-
mediately show themselves, mutually' and towards their lords, reM-
liouaand intolerable; thus they ought not to b^ allowed to know
Ubeity, biit only subjection. .For my part, X consider this Vxx as the
stixHwest chain by wluch they can be bridled*

\\ Strange, discourse!", observes John Masselin, '' and unworthy to
be lettered iby so. eminent a person ! But in his mindi as is commonly
the case with ola.meni his povetousness had increased with his age,
and he appeared to fear t^e' diminution of his pension.^-^p. 4ft0.

The deputies, howeidery bbowed iftuoh *pirit| imd^ when their
labotiRi were todec^ Separated witb anyibijig but satisfisetion.
Ofie»^ a' bold and- ssftloiis tiiQolagian,f gavte vrat^to his feeliuga
iielbrcf the ohanoellor im nd *«aatired' terttis —

" A,Aer they, have obtained our consent for the raising of money,
there is no longer any doubt that we are cajoled; it is clear that every-
thing has been treated with contempt, both the demands inserted in
our cahtcTi and our final ' resolVitions, and the Kmits which we have
established. As fbt the menev, they have only granted us one point,
namely; tlwt the tax shall no longer be called a taUUi but in future a
ftee gram:^ as though our labours and the goed of the-state were but
an a&ir of wfyrds. Ttvij We would rather have the tax called a tmUe^
oieven u^mal^ei or^o. worse name ^tiU, if one oould be found, so. that
the people might be relieved* May they, have the nwlediction of God
.and the eoceqratiop of menj whose actions and plots have been the
G^use of all this ! I'hey are the most .dangerous enemies of the people
and of the state. Where is their conscience, to take thus from us,
against bur will, aixd in spite of a solemn agreement, what is our own,
and that without there being any dahgei* of the state to render it neees-
sa^? O ye detestable am pmbHe thievvtf, ministers of a t3rrannieal
power ! is it thus that the state will prosper? I call God to witness,
that zdr are bound to re$ttt\ttidn, hot' only those who do and procure
these things, but all those who have aided or donsieiited ii^ them, and
even those who ahali i^c^ve^be money of which we have been robbed.

vol. XVll. MO« XXXIY. . Dl> . •

9M M^. Ouizoi*5 Camminum, Hisiorique

* ** Him/ thus spetkingi and eager to coatiBue, aldioiiflb he was abt
fyae- from the trutn, many blamed and constrained to be ai&ot«'* — Pv^H.

Thia interesting joamal is preserved in several maouacripts,
and we agree in the surprise of its ediCori M. Bemerj Ibat it
should have remained so long inedited. 'Ilie honesty aod i^ood
sense of its author are conspicuous throughout, and there can be
Utfle doubt that he entered the transactions of each day aa aooa
as it was ended. Like all the volumes yet published by Ibe
Commissioni it is most ably edited. The Latin Jlext ia ^accom-
panied with a French translation^ vhioh is rendered valuable -by
having incorporated with it verbatim reprints of such of r the
.apee^eer8(^ of thia assembly as were printed i|i black-letter at
tne time«

. Tba two other volumes of the Corwmmou Hisiorique which
Jiave been published form part of the ^rand series which will be
camfMled from the archives of the difierent miniaterial offices.
'Thejr are the first of seven volumes, whose materiala, relating to
the negociati<ms concerning the Spanish succe«sion duiiag' liie
reign of Louis XIV., are deposited in the office of the ainister
for forei^ affairsi and they are compiled and edited by M« Magnet,
'the distmguished keeper of the archives of that ministry, who
has prefaced them with an exquisite sketch of the political ptate
,lmd relation of France and Spain, up to the end of the|ieriod
,wbi€h this work will embrace* M« Miguel's booJi i# not ^ oiere
XHdlection of 4ocumenta-^tbe official papers are ioterwoyeo i^ a
circumstantial narrativei which givea it all the interest of a diplo-
matic history. The first volume of the corresponding collection
•from the archives of the minister of war has been finished aooie
months, but it waits« we believe, the illustrative atla^ of maps.
The editor of this series is general baron Pelet.

Although the collections of the public archivea generally
afford materials for onl^ a very late period of history, their
contents during that period are tolerably, complete. Those of
,lbe minister for foreign affairs begin with the seventeenth cea-
. tury, but they are thence continued in a perfect series of about
18,000 voliraiesy having received no injury by the fevoltttion
of 1793. The same may be said of the archives of the de-
partment of war. Those of the minister for the marine are not
'as yet available for historical purposes: they were separated from
j;he other archives under the minister Seignelay ; they Were thrown
(..into confusion in HQS, whep each noble family andeavonred to
•j^eu^ pod carry away the papera which reUted to itself; and that
'.cpnfuaion W9^ afiterwards mcreased by their arrangement in alpha-
.;h^tii:al order* They are at present at Versailles,, but tbejare
,;tOibe transferred to Paris, when the historical aection of the
ministry tf the marine will be employed in arranging them*

Oful the Spigtisk Record Cornmiss/W. 383

The publications "v^htch the Coramissidn ha9 at present m the
pres» relate to distant points of a wide extent of time. The
pmod bf the first two races of the Prankish kings ^H be illus-
trated by two early and important chartutaries^ that of the abbey
of Sahit<-Bertiny now preserved in the library off St. Omer, and
that €>f the church of Notre Dame of Chartres. The history of
N«U9tria^ under the Normans^ will be given in the Vast anicl
hitherto inedited chronicle in Anglo*Norman verse^ by Benoit de
Saint-'Morei from the MS. Harl. Y?!?^ in the British Mnseum.
Of this v<rork^ edif^ by M. Francisque Michel, the first Volume
^11 be published in November. The chronicle of Benoti will
h6 #t>Howed by that of the monastery- of Mont-Sainf^Michet; by
William de Saint-Paer, also in Anglo-Norman verse, ^htieh
lina been comnniitiicated to the Gommission by Mr. Thomas
WjSght, its correspondent in London.

* A long period will receive interesting illnstratien from the col-
teerieti of letters of the kings, queens princes, find princesses of
Fraaee, to the kings, queens, princes, and princesses of Bhgland,
from the middle of the twelfth to the end of the sixteenth eetitary,
selected by M. Champollion-Figeac, chiefiy from the eoltectiohs
made by Br^uigny during his residence in London. . '

The long space from the date of the above-mentioned wotits
Vithe end of th^ fourteenth century has, as yet« only furnished
"^ne docnment of importance-^the history, in Provencal' vi^rse,
by a eontMiperary, of the wars against the heretical Albitfen^efir,
"^hich will be published from a manuscript in the Royal Library,
with a translation, by M. Fauriel. We have, however, solrie
hopes of seeing printed in the collection, a very long and interest-
ing poem in Latin elegiacs, by a French ecclesiastio of the
middle, or rather of the first half, of the thirteenth century, relating
to the same wiEirs, and to the affairs in which France was con-
cerned during the latter end of the twelfth and beginning iff the
thirteenth centuries.

The reigns of C&artes VI., Charles VII. bUd Lonis XI., htt'ie
itfibrded two most in^portant chronicles — that of the fnonk ^f
•Saiist-Denis, and that of Amelgard* The history of the sixteenth
^twy will receive much light from a selection of the vast mate-
mis contain^ in the papers of the Cardinal Perrenot de GrrtA-
telle; chief minister of the Spanish monarcbs Charles Vi aM
Philip II., which are preserved in the Public Library of Besan-
^on, and from the Memoirs of Robert d'Esclaibes, a genMemthi
nf Hainautt, who served in the army of the League in thedayh'of
Henry III. and Henry IV. The papers of Cardinal MfHnM^ln
win also yield a rich harvest. For the bistoiy of the sevent^t^f^
€en(ta^ there are already in preparation, a History, in srste^

-0 B 9 -'^ '

3&4 M: Gtitiors ComMkdon HkHiiipt

books, of tlife;Wal-$ of AeFrancV-Comte froiii' l*Se W*!«4«Sby
a coun3eUor at the pariiament of I>61e/tli^ Lord' Gift^^ddr^tf
^eaui^emin^ who was at this time a member of i9|e g^tirmttetof
otihe pi-ovince; and the Memoirs of th^ Barbn disi Tuieiiieti.
;'''Xhe1Comfiii8sh)n appdimed by M.Ouizothas'abb cMettd'amd
cominenced Several larger collectioii^/ wht)$e cotttellU'*kn^'''i«-
stricted to ilo pal^ticutar period, M. GulSiiard wilf'tiidTe U «elei>
^'Sn of dbcuntents from tHre6 ffepo^itoHeS^-^odi Vlite' oii^l
egi^ers of tlie Pariiamettr of Pkri^, 'ftV>m the K«gMt^¥#^<^llie
iChanibre des Comptei^ and from the Treastilr^ b(. Gbart^^M: ' A
Mm Venter Wi>tk has be^ri eiitrfisted to MiC^Uirytidlfibb^ig^e,

1limy\ '^'iit/of lif'iet^e ; wAihii' of BtiiiiAgtfy, iHkHiktiag iig
Wra^ifcrip^s ffbfii otir Bhkheqb^r/T^^ey^aMl Biltlsh MUsiSlfaL
Tfie ^^oltecdo^ Of ColfoertV'^o ricfi Hi riidtetiM^ of %t^ kiipd^fe^
Jauns; to the iforei^^^^^ ^HHitb; k ^^^!tff^

'"f SiiifV m iji6 'histoHc;a1 piibiicaii0rt* vvtjjf ^irt^

Xomm^bn^Ti'a^T 'cOiilUi^ic^d itsj^bpai^; TU^p^lkratMiis'of
'iiur'tM-llseM lt^^ord'i()bAiili^sdtotlt^latb to 4kti/^I«^mi4d»<or bM-

■Yii^^'Wai^ t^ ;^enei^alil^ at ' tUke 6t ^hfe\'pfeW<^5^^Hft«^^

lbS;^khVfirair/BarSc^Heii,IlI.i Liberate, Mfe«, and^Pfesltti
JftpTTsrofH^^^
^andrl^uie ll6Us, of the same period ; a volnoie of F^brw* llbHs;

Mtlie '/irst ^dlUtiies (if the Charter R61l^'a(id the G^sctin'Kotfe,

^tte 'c^ii'hariftj^^Siifpfii^e thifotir€diiiriissi6h ^tc^attt^e^l*itfi)f
Voni^uViigttie (^Hfitirig'of the originufs; V^e ^re^^otiim^na stiMl^y

as to'^hi^bptit^ms/bftheoYismkl roTti. Dnecffth^ moa€^y&|ti^3
"or itie ftrsi Sleicorti Commissi<!ArWaa th^ rephkM^tion'^ thf F^-

and the i^^lah. -Rf^rd, Coi^^iof^ ^8jlf,

dfrar}; pud it cenlBioly became, a difficdt fjuastion wthj tbe Cpui-,
^9aioi\jthai followea, whether the moaey, which tiadtjej^n'throwil'
a!ifrim,.Kt the rate of about ^5CXX) for a folio voluoe of 606!page|L
on the reprinting of a work which was already on tb« shelves ifl
ever; great library, should beentirdiy Iost,.or whether i
8bf>ul(t.l>e given to the work b> throwing more monejr
Mhkb was gopci We are g|ad/howeyer, that tte produc
fmncp voliraieft has been entI:^elted to the cafe of )Vf;c-„'
« igeptlenan iitjwbosti band) tt)e3[ will c^rtainjy )*e ,e
iu;cura<;y an<f judgment. ' Into his care alsQjiMi bcji
workqf estreoK^interef^ and vaiue,-^Hconecti,oi*flfJLei
fnUDijtbe Britiab Muic^m, Ijut, by far. it'^ Sr^il^LRf,^
%oVfer,^KigUiair*g with the, early part of the ,'twelf^Vff*
iclct^isg with ihe iniddU of ^^ fpurteenthV |hej| Ki^'ji
)tbick,yqli*Bies iaqctayq- W.e ibaUpye fbat ;t|ii,aljg,
f|l|«ttOfflK> pript Bome of th^^RflOs 9f iH Cartfe.Mti^'k
a>gtf(;wh»X*r^.eiifffiafi Iq iuxXe M». wf}! eai-ly 't^
t^ charier^ broifgfit into Chan«ry to |b«, -~-e.^-ji
.; T*o ¥flUioiei| of the JRoTja of the Ci|
D^BS before the king'a justices, ^(ic.)ud|ng
l^<;l^d~and the first. yeu: of lhe,i:£^ pr
ty sir Francis Palgr&tp. A volunt^of tl
PTiiQtherposae^saions, fromj Eicn^T- i^ H
ia3,ff^,a^,^ Pipp Rol). which. is atjribi
.fe^f,bpR(i pvi(?liah£d byjMr- Hunter. A?
ftW^lftof Jbp Pipe of 3 John, has also beer
^-.Robert*»^f the Tower, hwi e^it^ ^\
.£^^iof(hereign>of Hen-ItL A^'we'aH
pfiiOiij; history, the jmblicfitiiuts of our jt
mftth^ '«« nuflwrQus, Mr, ftunt^rhas g
^Ik Crom the Chapter House, whiph jcp
floj) p;E, 7, Uohn, six rolls retolJve to the' ijt

.4^,lnron»'-war3t)f tlie .fleigu ^f .tlfivj!
.jeflHrs^uteHt of the reigns of tf Qii; y v^ii"'
^H.liip wluRif of Nopn^n ll<?lla,(i?8,given
^,^e fir^typai; of Henry Y-f.wti^ti, iTife sp
flum^, But by ferihe jpoistiqipoftaiit fl
.flftllWiWWl U fqiA^diti (he five volftmep

..,qfy tl)ft,prf^eding;s,,and.Oriiinwc^,ff.>

„li«^ from. MSS, in .the^pridah ,Mi(fe
«Wn* of Rifitf- IW mn. JX^ ^fi)i.y, ?«

Wb base loaa.eBpscled.an»i6i!s!y)!jfiow,iti^'Tm^
tifs £r»t,volnnie,o{ ijje grand collection of itlie ?ffg!#iSflr^]^]S"'
i«>mpi:wM:„the,..yn¥9H, period,), bj ^trvlr^H'.%,W ^i*^^

5M M* Qmofs ComtfUman Hist6iriqu$^

cehbrated colleclion of the Historiaiw of Fnmce by ]>»ai BoUf
quet. We' know that this plan is by no meaoa universally ap«
proved; yet, on a fair comparison of the advantages and iocoave-
Qtences of both plans, that of printing each chronicle sepacately,
and that of the French Benedictine, we think that, for a regular
wm} conplele series of chronicles, where, as in Mr. Petrie^acol-
lMtion» the time is judiciously divided into peripds so a# not to
eauae too much cuttiog up of single authors, the latter ia decidedly
Ibe iieat.*

In the formation of the Commission Hisloriqae, M. G«iiaoi'a
clan embraced an extent which was never contemplated by ouf
Record Commission — the development and progress of philoao*
phy, literature, and the arts, have ever marched ba«id*kHhand
with those of political events.-^

"After the |volltical history, the inteflectoal and moral histoty of a
country have an equal daim upon our attention: there is no grands o(
nobler part of the destinies or a people than the aeries of their efitartt
Und of their ptogreas in phibsophyt seience, and lifiarasaoe* Wssfaaoft
doubt the abundance, ana the special oharaclar of the anonumtnUi of
thM kind, prescribe to us in this req>ect some reserve \ they muat aoi
be iaken too readily, or in too great number, into a coUectiont of whick
what is properly termed history is the main object But die works
whichf at certain epochs, have strongly agitated men*s minds, and have
exercised a powerful action on the intellectual development of contem-
porary generations, — those which have opened, in the moTemenk of

« •

\. * Thefpllowin^ observations on the inconvenience of minute diviaioni in DomBoii-
^nef 8 plan, (torn a Report b^ Messrs. Naodet and Dattnou, the editors of tbe
m&rti ^olsnie «f tiic terlss, we, we tbiak, eztremsljr jadicieiia i*-«

ilippe l\U, de 12{0 a 1 265, 59 ans. Nous prions
^Vanunlner sMI ne vaodmlt pas nilem compieiidre daas oelte i6rlB neovitts VbUip^
le-lM et KB Irob fils, I^ooia JL, Philippe V. et Charles IV^ )W{u'f^ l»^ Vespaa»
tc^tal ferait de 103 ans, et correspondrait en graiide partie au vivfi siede. On Iviterait
par icette disposition, on I*on restreindrait du mdns les iDoreenements que la tirltiqw a
pinr d'one fob reproeh6s aax 6diteurt de ce grand tfeoueil. £d «iet» ii Isar a'Mb
MflBfBr en oeuf lectiona ei disuibuer en autant de volumes lea Qlmmiqaet de Sswt-
Penis, d^couper en de minces fragments et presqae en parccUes beaucoup d'autres
chroniques moins 6tendoes» Interrompre soudainement les retatiom des gberrea, 4es
V^tcdotioni, des eniMpriees de lost genfe, qui, oomineiwfet sons one lie oa» ^Ms^
nW»t M poufMUvies oa eonsorom^es que sous la suivaate, A la v^ib§, cet iacoof^-
nifent M^ ua r^sultat inevitable de toute division d'un corps d*annales par des ^poques
d^termin^es*, roais on faggrave en multipliant les points d arrit : on le vend meiBS n#-
ouent, moins sensible, quelquefoh moins i^el, & meaare qu\»B ag^Mndil lea pt>>»dw.
•Qlsad 11 no s'agit que 4i'aii seul et mime ouvrage histnrique, un partage co Uvt«i oa
ehfplUreSf qui ne tend qu*a distingucr les regnes, ne rompt pas I*encbalnemenk des fails:
'nn r^cit n'^ est interronipo que pour 6tre continu6 il fort pen pages de distance ; at H^
ipl'an an fecocXI t«I que eel oi qui nous oecu^, les iiarritioni» anrlites data lc«r aaois
■jaatliffl'par la cldture ^*one serie, ne se repsennenkqu'en d'aatfes volunws public ^natit
l^^ ciuq ans plus tard* La distribution en sections a suns doute des avantages ; mais
nous doutons que ce soit bien servir les Int^rlts des lecteurs que de monelar et '^ ""'
joiodsa a ce p<^t iet mal^laea dc i'iaitiacii«i qu on ismr pfipafis»''

QNd the E^gU$h Record Commmm. 901.

klq^fl,. s new era— rthosei lastly^ which, under a form purely literary,
rc^veal to us forgotten manners, customs and facts of social life, tbi^
trapes of which have disapjpeared, — such works are closely allied with
history ; and, should we discover some monuments of tljis kind, w^
should consider it our duty to undertake at once the publication, Itl
forming a particular series of such works in the general collection. '
*' Lastly, Sire, the history of the arts ought to occupy a place ill Mi
yi^t sum total of researches, which embraces all the parts of the oadoiiil
ttaiatetiee and deatinies. No study, perhaps, reveals to ua more ckis^
the aoGiid condition, and the true mind of past generations, titan tint itf
dilir«aligiaiis, «ivil, public, and domestic monumenia, of the vanowi
ideas and rules which have presided at their construction, — the study,
ia « word, of all the work§ and all the variations of architecture, which
isi at tbe same time, the banning and the summary of all the arts/'*-^
Report of M. Guizot, Nov. 1834. ^

. A separfite Committee was named in Jaouaryi 1835| to sfxp^tf
lateod the formation of this branch of the grand work. Like ^b^
bnntier, they were all men distiagiii^hed in literature or scienc^i
tbm vk&Bt eminent in those researches over which they were now
ealhd to preside. They were Messrs. Victor Cousin, Vitet^ Am*
^pasie Le Provost, Pierre M6rim6e (the inspector-general of Ims«
torical monuments), Victor Hugo, Ch. Lenormant^ AHiert Leooif
(the architect), and Didron, who is the secretary of the Coni-
tn.ittee.

The labours of this Committee are naturally but secondary to
dhose of the other; and their extent, in the number of volumes at
least, is much more circumscribed. The only one which has ^e^t
made much advance is the volume of inedited works of Abelard, by
M.Victor Cousin, which we believe is just published, or on toe
point of publication. It is divided into three parts, the first of
which contains the Sic et Now, (from a manuscript in the library
of Avranches,) the work which caused Abelard's condemnatioii
at the Council of Sens^ in 1 140. The second part consists of
fragments of a Treatise on Dialectics, in the form of a long com*
mentary by Abelard on the Organon of Aristotle; and the third
part will contain a collection of fragments and lesser pbiiosopbir
^ works of Abqlard, among which will be printed his interesti-
ng OibsMP m Porpkyrium, We believe that M. Cousin is aU<^
preparing some important but hitherto inedited wovke of our
countryman Roger Bacon, one of the most distinguished scholars
of 4be Parisian university.

tJnder the direction of the Second Committee, M. Saint^-
Beuve is drawing up an account of the successive developmentaf^
during the three last centuries, of the study and critical history
of the Ancient Literature of France; and M. de Wailly, chief of
the administrative section of the archives of the kingdom, is emt
l^loyed on a concise Manual of Paleography*

$88 M» Gw^pCs; Camm^mSUi^q^

As far a3 the Ubipur^.pf <tbi,$ jQoamiltee are dbneoted (Eft: die
hi&^rj. o£ phUo^ppby ^ncl Htiemtttve, tidiose flMmmekls are wvittes
do0PiiMli(a> ihe plonWhichiimseiltediiUelf neturtlll^riti ll>e-«vdifcft
pif llie Bii^it Commiitee^ is thcvl which' miife&Hactotift^ Ke^ ebo,
nati^^ the. Muvf^Ie {UibKc^dtr ^F stii^ i^^dif^^ tirbhd|njient^ as
apipBer te 1^ of^ttfiTcieiit impprtaiice^ ' BuV When ^e ehte^ i^^
the bntdfy of the al-ts/ft becomes qfede^sarjf, to^ jbI|b.V q^uife!a flif-
feretit tonr^e* to product works much more co.mf teitet^lid W¥^
ntbi-e compreUensi^. We canoot describe .tbe owifiurc^ rtftkeB
by M.Guuot to attao} thia object better thfiii in 'hi9>own iVMtia^

^« When >iv« qmt sdence ktid literature to booiny otirsMslves witjE^^'Ae
aM^ "v^'ibttatiieeessatily ehiihgi^ oor method.' Here it is iio tof^r fut
affitit^ef distsevering and pHtitin^ hiedited worksl^ ' Wt'tJi'tWex^pd^
o£ a aiiiall ntibiher ef special treatSse^, the li{stoW'|6f tlie a/^^is not wi
books ; it is written in the monuments thenifse^^eit/^^^iiBe iRti^^ van-
eUe »e«btdiilg 16 tltfiea and places, represent tfot dd^ (de priodples
and' tte Tides ihHiyviFed hy the difieretit schools, but^ atbve^^t. the mipd,
thettaui^thekliowledgei whidf bebn^d to the ages of yfhicV t^eyjare
nwiiioUrisi It Is,' theretoi^, ifhe f})tms of the ihonuiki^ts 'wh(pb we
miult r^pfodnce, by hieans of a short but ^xact descrij^tidbf ^^^W 'care
to note miMifely the charapteristie ffiflferences which af e rematk^^ in
eaahk • AH the monuments which hdve esi^ted^ or whibl^ ftill exJ9>C eo
the soQ of 'France Wilt h^ the 61^ectt>fd particular stiid^ Iji'ea^ jLQwiu
in teaih haMlet, hi eaieh fftoiip of tt^tatibns. '"^6 the desCrfj^dv^ notutes
wiHibe often jekied a |)ian,'& section, anS'kf le^Voh'e^ortWib^eyya^oiis
of the structures mentioned ; all the plan^ ahd'd^ii^ ^all be' reduc^
asiar as possible, ^onescal^aHd) the'«(yitecttve'sumf bf^tBese m>i1k
wiUfonpn tj;u^mowametH«l siatistiodf C^dce^iitidiMAecoitfiiqjfle
its.diSerent agps... .; ; ... *. '. *: ..; i -.x- •»Ma;v\\ i-v./^i ^r

^* At this moment ,]Vt. ,9aiiief is,^)cec^,iingAive^liwi oEiliie work
for all the monuments which exist, ip thr^ .^ai^o^ odhi^. ^efvlvtmeil
of the Oise, 9nd M. Crrille de Benzelii^^ for two arr9adisse|niQ|BM;;^-|)ie
department of the lifeurthe. ' . .. \ ......

^•j' jj'.ii'

M. M^ithie, inspector of the historical monuments of Franu,^.
one of'«he members of - the Committee, has surveyed, ^^ringraej^
monthaof thisipi^sent year, the whole of the ancient province 'if Bijt-*
tany;. The numevous obsartaitiMis which he htts sent me ttflaWe &ki^f
to tbti history of the Bmton ttrchiieetute, in ^ieh he tMiik^tiMft he
has discQveaed a p^rti^elar atylet^ He; has, BtoreeveryttddveMd.lo
m^ ai9 well as t;o Jto^ ^ipister. .ef the interier, varidia fixqKanhioHB ee^
latmg'to the gonservat^pn of tliabuijd^ ofthewMiei^^jvhicbfbe
hai visited. Lastly, he is gope, by n^y prdeis, ij^ t^d^fimPPtimitif^t
la Viifhne, in order to examine the remains of the;ei3y({ic^t«;^ii||^of
CharrotiXi to make a statement of 'the present condition, of .ttus J(0o^i]a^
toent^ nod fo take the neccssaty steps for insuring its preservatiod.

" In evfll^tiart M.Merrtti^ hds remarked a great rea&incMlo pie^
serve' ini asuoy the lAonuments of our history. ' Lear rted sbciedi^s ate
bottly enffaged in describm^r them; a great numhe^r of artists. aad^of
privete individuals are tnaking researches at their oim^ 9're?eEy eoe i$

ami m^ £^M IBM^ C6niMsioU: ^^

zwl#i» fovteocsn asffkrilA 41 fi^'iA M^pM^er, 'lA^'tHd^^vrHfdic

t1««»tUli«ttrji'>iii^{leet^re of ftlr epoetin, induding the roacls, W^icb^in .
i^JCT^roJ under the ministiy 6t war^ the lo^p/pf Eouwmi ki(w#uMbbeij

dewc, ^ r war, lias agrees tp tl

pile ftiAi the ^^^^^ of .^rawe^ ;^>tw dte^

niOTiroeYtei apd;aJl,tlj^^^^

ajj, tlje da^jid^iffg ,tjQ, j?ff^l^ffplpg^*34}ffe*'HWB«(ia «H)

to'tgg; ofl^'cere. .of tjie. .s^ffi ^ho are eff^^e^ i^^ih^ feiM|tio0)^£(tli^ //
gettCTaijinap.. ^M^prtpfJj<;(i{. X$3^. ... .^ j. . ,. .: -y.t i- .n,« .nv ■.:!; to

|j|^^.»jAr(f9ithhaA.,b9eQ )ilWdyi doae^ ^aiid from .tlib^-jwiiti&i^''*^

Commission Ilisiorique. It bears in all its m^pbers^tfti^ md/Ks qf ^'
thfligK&t man utider wtio^ 'liiidtnce^ h arose/ anU'tHejsirbng^
raMern^hadf bt!ha^ given to it infill riot easily be!c^ang{e(l P^r^iH^^in
cireb^trnices. The govertiment seems 19 fei^V dfpplj^/)ljb^,a%p»!.
portance oCjIjhe undert^akifK^ ;agd; i9,;^xi(Jen>tJy,.f}ew^Wi :<)f ic<v
opei^i^''ni ttie pursuit oJtits opj«^,t9. , <Tb^vfinnwl gnmldofno
12^QC^ francs*^ gonc^wfi will go.farrpaolioidaifljr wWwIiki»'''
mi^p^' )[^i;(jDibmv i^ slu)^\vn ia Ua .dislr&ntioii^im'iaDt^iif ^ tate''*

tr'm, IHid /oCitfae «^eiMcs.irftwddc and fnateHttis; iff oiiij^faf tti'm'^k'''^
muofa 40. Ibepxffeoditure ^ ^dur oWn'R^eohf Cota^nfiTs^biL' '/.^Bu^}
it erijdjB^severtl tidvafiitiiges: fot no. persbfa. wlio'^^ d^e^^
ih^Ai&mtlniki^iim is' p^ld forGiefai^t^bb'tir^ m^^ ,^1

ha>fe g^hferalfjr befen iiiost zealous im^vbl4iit^
OtWtt^'iiersbiib; employed. feceiv^ ^91 ip pjfC VjPW^<Mlll»'« fiflimiftitn
remunerfition under the twp,he^Vt{ti;afmtiptstaqd(:q^^ "
J^^'.Wnter in our n^iprithly .coiitemporavy, Ibe^ 6edtleiiiaB't>-M«<>^'><^

■ J ^ ■ ....■■ ■,.,..,, ii;|l|i ■■i|>| ft' h"**'!'*""> ''^l'*<^<^^

^'m%^rft'tbat th« fnitjster of public ijistraction intends \o asik^ior i^^qqo fi^^nfi
in tht tadg«rvof tb^ ^Mnng ^Mr|1mt/«f the Mme time, w« «r^'lo1atiiat he ha» not '
much confidenoe of obtaioiDg \U

390 Commission Hitiorique and X!ngU$h Retard Comnmsion.

gaziae, in reviewing the first pubUcatioh •f die* Surlees S^caefj'^
has committed a slight inadirertency, in arguing our aoperiopitj
over other nations from the supposed circumstance that aipclqlies
of individuals here do that in which elsewhere the govemnsmt
interferes, and in considering! as far as we understana hiopy the
interference of the government for the publication /9f the.mtHi9^
monuments aa a badge of despotism. In cbis point w^^ ditkr
little from o^r neighboursp Jn. other QoufUrie^ such aoci^U^ |je
as numerous, and even more numerous, than in our own; ;«Dd
their publications^ with some exceptions, have been infinkdjr
aapenor^ because they never adopted the childish system of esL*
ciusiveness, and Aie still worse systems of feasting/ 6t paying
great salaries to inferior servants, and of making toys instesid of
useful books, which have too often characterized the societies in
merry England. The Surtees Society has begun Its laboura. in a
better spirit, and promises us a few books of great histcirical
value, it is still left to the chance labours of such societies, or
of individual ^eal, to print the monuments of our moral 4lid intel-
lectual history «^ The most promising of all attempts which ^ve
hitherto been made is that of our antiquaries. The Society of
Antiquaries has, indeed, raised good hopeM by the establiilh^Dent
of its Saxon Committet — its Csedmop will, we have no dbpbt^
find a worthy successor in Layamon, of which we hope soon to
see the first volume; its Exeter Book, on which Mr. ThoVpe is
at present engaged, will be th^ most important publication it has
yet undertaken. We would counsel the antiquaries to foTlpw it
up with the works of the illustrious Alfred, which in 'MnKembl^
wqo, we believe^ has long had the idea of collecting theni^ would
find a skilful editor; and they might next give us what is mucli
wanting, a good edition of Piers Flowman, that most important
monument of the language and of the moral and political feefin^
of the fourteenth century. By proceeding vigorously In the paA
which has been struck out for them, the antiquaries wil^ pur-
chase the good opinion of posterity. But we fear that the spirh
which gave life to the Saxon Committee is weak and short-lived.
The great*mtndedness of the seventeenth century, which, besides
securing to us oqr political rights by its wisdom and its Uipod,
has left us so many noble monuments of individual induatry jip the
publication of onr historical ihonumeats, is but just awflkiw
afiter its long slnmber; we hope and trust that it may hftve gMOed
strength and freshness by its repose.

<»i»n^ I m*^»» itiMi -^»m4»^.^— — -aw-^Jfc^^i— »»y»fc.^t.<i^

* la FfVBG* llive br wtet we «aglit> ioag agt cu(h»v« bad m £n|tM«d,.a S««Mf ^

Hklwy— 4t ba4 Utelj pubUbb«d, under Uie judicioufc^re ot M. CbampoUM«t«F1ircai:»
a beautiful volume, coutaiuiiig two curious chrunicica relating to the Estabtishincnt of
the IQ^ormaus in Italy and Sicily; and it has in pffpamtiou what will, wq bvre no
doubt, be ID exceUeot edition of Oregory of Tours*

( -891 )

AnT.'¥l.— Brijfe an Johann Heinrich M&ck, von GUihe, Her-
ditr^ Wielana, und andem bedevtenden Zeitgenossen. MH
Merdfs bhgraphischer Skizze. Herausgegeben von Dr. Karl
Wagner, Lehrer am Gross- Herzoglicben Gymnasium zu Darm-
stadt. (Letters to John Henry Merck, from Gothe, Herder,
Widaiid, and dtber eminent Cotemporaries. With a Biogra-
phkri Sketch of Merck's Life. Edited by Dr. CbBrles Wagner^
IVvetier fit die Grand Dncat Gymnasiom, Dsritistadt.) 8to«

This work is not only full of attraction for the man of letters^ and
the loyerof modern German literature in general^ but it eaually in-
vites tbe attention of the poet and philosopher, of the artist, natu->
ralist, and geologist^ comprising, as it does, a series of letters
from most of the eminent men (between the years 1770 and 1790)
who belong to those classes. For more than half a century have
these interesting documents of the most interesting period of Ger-
man and perhaps of general literature been kept back from the
world. The person to whom they were addressed, Johann Hein-
rich Merck, was a gentleman of ample fortune, resident at Darm-
stadtj whose varied talents and enlightened appreciation of merit
h^ve linked his name with the first geniuses of ttiat prdlific period.
OjT \x\m Gothe declares — " This singular man has, of all others,
exercised the greatest influence over my life.** Herder exclaims —
" Gpod man! Heaven grant me always a friend like you!**
An^ Wielaod, in the fulness of his warm heart, says — *' Should it
ever hpppea that I could love nothing more, I should still love
Gollie and Merck;'* and, on another occasion, " Excellent friend!
before I desert you, 1 shall have poisoned my wife and stranded
my seven children T Gothe, in his own early biography, gives
an account of Merck, which we here insert rather as illustrative
of part, than as a complete picture, of his character.

" Of bis early education I know but little» After completing bis
^uc]i^» be accompanied a gentleman to Switzerland, where be remained
some time, and returned married. When I first knew him, be was pay-
master of Ibe forces at Darmstadt. Endowed with the highest intellect
and understanding, he had made himself extensively acquainted more
especially with modern literature, and parttcalarly studied the history of
mahkina and of the world in all ages and phices. He was peculiaify
lifted with the pow^ of judging aec^imtety and aoutely. As a naa -at
msIuMb also, asMt a ready accoontant, be was mnok distiDgiMbed* Ry
alt, save those in whom bis biting dmemmB bad eicited penooat dreads
was -be bailed-as « wekome acquisition to society. His visage was long
and tbHS, with a pointed prominent aose, and light bloe eyes, approach-
ing to grey, whicli seemed eagerlv to observe all around bim, and gave
bis a4>r^ssion aomething tiger-like. Lavater's Physiognomy has pre*

392 LHten id 'Jot49 'B^ii!^^Mi9tln<"

served bis pro6le. A fitrmgb fno«0gniUy 4Ai^atteri0tdrj|ii«jBUDdi>^%
nature noblci trQttivoftfay» luid «|iidglity Jk Udl ibdc#ouB ;ittjei»MlteiBi
lAgaittst the worU» and had so yiddod feQ.lbk.mfliMl £edMC^/«£ ilvjtplioai
that OD ahiiost irresistible iacliitaiiQi^ for l»{6ch*^f| wd,j^¥^|^r,]^uiaFQQb

sceaied at times to overpower him.** • i .. ^ -tj v»/i:Iqtt»

Here it must be remenib^red that -<5otli% M>Ȥ^'tt^t'^iiiiW| rm a
fnoral judge, but mihef texwning llie pitVkH ^^humimilVt^ t
poetic sense; and that << rogae^' smd <^ koMT •bott y€iy dWlKHlt
meanings in his vociabiilaitf from wbtfti ihiiiy^didi iW'>IiJ9^4^
Gothe adds:-^^ But as we \Villtilgly lie^ t\m e^id<uMirto€^4«(
danger From vvhichsreht^fitv66UHb\\\^9iMire;4o'W^i'^ik^
anxions for the enjoymetil^ of His '"^ood'^MiltelV H^dhMitm^
vinced that he trould llb^UrrMi His^'^vil i»idirtb#W«bMAJte^
continues in iht sit^ejiti^uilb't^pmiM^^^^
seemingly' cdntracFicfofy' qnafifi^i, '^aMd Vbef'i^bflefttMil'J^Avr^
spondenee amply £11^ u^ th^ m^sum of hU'dlM^liaii|rV'%btek'M
here see reflected in that of dth^iPs d^^ WWcfm hfif-eA^tt^m^ a
never flagging sway, ^hd \vhon^b^>^ "ebdsiiltfd^ttf^rA^^
sonable iencouragemeht or umlikguii^^ saffbMlnsK^^H^fttlfiliMtll
of that contnict which great t^l^nt^ tUfcr^ ttittk^^^fll f^poblkf.
No lack of energy, or fuMiifig i^flT^ p6W«nesCtfiM4ii^e4gll^ifeyb^
the friend who had bh^e <)Mkify^ -bU ihtehestlllVflhlitini^
labour to retain it; and evert Ihe^fiattie oP-d^hlft^ (tttf ilidt'^lfiflivhi
him fVom Merclc^s t^itidi^ii^g iastit-^'itMtk'*Mt iriMMMri<|c^mB
in the short prefiminaiy bidgtaf^hy ^fcittt iwbtoU tb^Btte^^MtkiidMs
are extracted. When tlmt gi^etA p<cvet SMt'ihimi:bii^><IiiiMlgb'lo
peruse, Merck r«mind«^d him of hist^i^er {jKAit^mytiddit^^^fVtk
must not write soch stuff agairt'-^)fbddy.cMlddtattfif|initlk^

With regard to 'himself, fortun^ had i^rrfikleMin r6d^dey«iideot,
and nature too versatile, ti> acqiiii^ ^reat thdtind«Kl) twlblmiy. ifPo
enumerate the various subjects vn Which he't«<fed)|W')^w0rsthwll
suffice to prove why he dM^bt attain ohy'Bttiiip^r|h^i«)>^iT^
few k it given to begt^M4n'mo^tfMMvMa'iii«J ^M\anfr«tMlbd
^like in p(>et^y;des^i^tiVe^ri^,^tfalte,iMrtM<^s^ «|lt^MbliM( ?A
few of his smaller satirical -ptk^^ at^'Untieked^tloUMs^rl^idari
remind us of the humour trf^Suift;: ^A^ A'eirktd1i(^«uibdiAaf<m
of his day; all Miecot^mpdfaryw^it^irsWeveWWfii^it (qf^hq^^
in him tlie candidate for ffam^' ether ^hailed- br^KilMKed tb^ bcaiti
examiner, whbs^ 6piniofi ^oUld4nWk6>or>ltiilit»hi^<0#(iiiid uttfaitUe
public. His criticisms '()ti' the'%vork4^ of ' ihe^^dayiimied MMtJ^f
the gt^atsup^oyti'br^d^Ti^kf5c4r«f«>MrHlbl^(G^^
and Wietaifd; the editdr df^ AM p^ W<x*ifaiH> '^q^ybmiolly iiays,
^« Your reviews gf^e Hf^ <^f dlettth 'tb^ tbb' M^etCTjf i^^ iitM(^!M»^
^ Really and truly, d^^ ftiehd, ybu dtst^ fc^ #fM^ illbre;»«l^ybu
have hithcfrtb ih)rowii ^ptiptri^fntie^gcMff^^ jTbfM<1laiuM|y

mf^aojitimkaito^tmni.tkMh^^ em^y^'OO the

iMtfr'O0<trutb» 9mA 'for ihe nuuHeBaKeof a severity mm purity of
tttMi wlu4sh.lMfd a mOBt ^aiulaiy effect upon tbe numerous candi-
iM^forfkmt at that p^rioid. ' In all fluljeots connected with art
lie displayed the same powers of judgmeoL His own house was
a nutmwipii of ^llftptfo^jg^ Jn him iwng.t#^f^t of every kind found
^ ni^ip«MlH)iia|^ j9eilfVA\^c»f'the fUst^iagui^M^d Germaii arti^t^ of

IbaUNIilev^we ilh^ Q*»tiif^ in Ia^ Q^ the road

t<iIim9iltfe|HeI}t»ilO/luAjMdi«io^f^JldviQf,4ilAl4 liber^ity; wJUil^ tbe

toll^rfbf9>MfthA:l6^f^ P,^ka iii»d.iPA*qb.fi«. of Weimar,. aod from
G49ib%ftov}diAm^.hU.^igl^i;^iiteti^% ^^withstaM-

U«iil|flJl«9f 9^9|M^n«M>aud >the .r^gul^r at^uda;ice which lus
oftcid.'iMiMttkl^ilJB^MMre^he^ifpitp^ tiqil9 fof; d^ep. research into

^^nA\ki^ryM^^mW*i9A^9^^ Afosecut^ these

scieiH^esiiwilAMIjJV-dMir wW^h aUrac^d thf^^aigi^Qe pf the.gr^t pro-
f9S%HM»nfliymMrftd;^b)i|i/tbecorF»s|»ipii^^ fi.Blnmieabach*

»iwittfl«>*^m»^J!fWWHWri«i»^,o/,i^y)e~M^ W^g^ unceasing

AWWkjci Kto tbfWaUmpqoMKfii <>f iqiWC^Wy. ij». literatufp pr scjence,

ri^^3JWa^j*:r»liny; W^fW'Uf s^Jltter.feonjir e^^alted the indiyidMjri,

mAkOflvitviiiip^lfc^nt tlu^rpairff, )^r^9vrti Ql(his:^rGaqtic apijrit were

t^ivwjEsjbiirlsii aft Ah^Vi:. Q^^^raUi^qil^iQna hewaa clear^ Sjevcre^

ift»43pil«li0BiiU mtbiMl^c^f^^hi^pl^'dffj^^.^ud ,KnQ pf the

^^fUiiim^rvm\yf\M^ ilart9bl|e^i%^d^ ridicM^.M^d be.good, and

"Villi^lUiidliesaiamtHppetfy'eia^u^.iu liiftin^tu^Ao feel where ten-

ii^t[m9j^M[mifi»imgfni^\^ H^omH b^ better IPqr his c^wa peace

oftiAninbw idis4li«£ >p0vfeoitw«L w^n .|>l^ed (po high. He knew

,ifK>(weU'>«ii4iiat)(W9«eKed(kwt;.}ta4K^/99^^ he himself

*^d*.vjMM^a tjM)ei3drV tbfi 4ui€il^:b^ to ivhi^. quiet iff a helU"

^Mip!.i»f<^m^*mfi Uiwl^iiGity..of..aYocatians» he sought that

ttlisGwtli^rWJhifl^.PUe aJpnfl,.wi9u|d.iiat.affgrdf , " Whenever," as

fOdbe ag()Mi)'f 4e b^aibe^eiMI^ hisiPW;^ flbilitic;s>and was disgusted

^t mti6»^iffg jbisr powers of prGdM<;ti(M).come up to the standard

'wbiphr.be .h£l ^fedj be w^ld.f^^oyva^id^ the. politer arts, aod

JtffknsffarrftU^hif.ft^noffieji to^soiiffi pubfic .^pei;^1ati9a or mercantile

'ttttfapris^ Ivbidv while i^ yi^l^M/jP^^Mni^ry PX^f^U also afforded

'food icir'ii.^U|eutoiJiia.4e«t]^Ai,nMni>/ ^ujch was the man who

'helifeiiibia;haftd«i(all.lbfr.eiMWr.pf .tb^gr^cefu^ knot of Weimar

)^Mh^pfaO«villld..1va4.veitb^r...th^.,o|^u fiiencjj, or coniideiitial

( ^trbslec^Mf till p9^l9 wd {Uincea^of us ^Xepiture and [lolitics.

,''yi>Oaffeyifiwfcyg bi?( chajfj^gygf and^ life, we are struck with a cou-

^vii^tj^^ll ttian^ res^otfl betyi^ii, l^erck wd the late William

'B^<toe.'.:<lAtbwi^C^.*kuiivfledge^ of talent, and in

jMa^tboQiiia effoiM.J^ dipse«^tio9 ^./icil^nqe and the pro-

J94 ZdHen to John He$i9y Mefdk,^

notMU'OJPintBiiectQftl purraits^ tbefe 19 « strifciny coitwiiteaee be
Iwcait them. Happy were the task of the biogmpber'lNk) the
'ffeaembhmce extended threnghouft life, and* the same aeweoe Aj
narked the« setting of each bright- lifiimarj. Soffloe if heiet6
iay^ that, disappoiiited in spirit, aad exhaosled wttb • paarfal
disease, Merck pot an end to his life wkb his own hmidlvviitke
d7th of Jane, 1791, at the age of fifty. Let m deal 'gnfti#f witfi
Us meoaorjr, and leave jadgment lo Him m^ alone ooiHd* kne«r
the force of the temptation, or the severity of the eonAiet.'

Of the variety of sabjeets- diseussed in the letters iooiapoii^
-tUs work, seme oonception may be. formed from* the ^fetla^Mflg
list of correspondents: —

Herder. O. Fbrtter;

Sophie de k Roche. K. Hett.

Bdie. Voigt. -

G« S^loMsr* fon DafanecM^* * * *
Nicolai. . von Samms A^^ .

Gpthe. Licbtsobaig..

Wieland. G. M. de la Boche. .

Grand Duchess of Weimar. Gothe*s mother.

Grand Duke of Weimar. Knigge.

H.Fuseli. P. Cwnper.

Caroline Herder. Baron Hohenfeld.

« Ursinns. Blnmenbacb. '

F. Jacobi« Sir Joseph Banks.

Baron tod Beroldhigen. Arajas ia St. ^Rond;'

Looisa von Ooohhausen. Heantarhats^

Dalbeig, Prince Primate of Priaoe GaUUaiik.

IVankfort, A. Camper. .

Bode. Count Frederick St9UM9«.

Wille. BaroQ de Luc,

W. Tiichbeio. ScbDeider, *.

Zeutner. Eberhard.

Count von Velthe!m. Wytt^nbach.

Bertucb. SaraslD*

Such a list of names as the above seems almost to supersede
the necessity of any further remark. Fortunate should we esteem
our countrymen, had any of those bright cycles of patent, which
at various periods have illumined, and still illumine our prdgress
to civilization, bequeathed to us so rich a legacy of biographical
characteristics as is here presented. ' For although we have no
lack of posdiumous correspondence of the gbod^ the greflt, (he
witty, and the t^otortoUs of our own country, yet weknow of no
English work which can compare in aggregate value with the one
before us. Dating from the most prosperous period of German
literature, it includes the chief actors on the theatre of letters,
and more especially that brilliant constelFatioQ of genius which

/mm G'ithe, HeNtef, Widtmd, Sfc. 995

e^eifttled the ducal coronet of Weimar cluring Ike latter iuilf of
tbe la$t 'Century, and from thenoe sbed its ligkt over tke whole
Cultivated world. To those, theref(9re» who aie at all conrereaat
in the writiaga and biography of this poetical groupe^ we would
earnestly reoomoiend this correspondence as an mdispensable
svpfdement — ^as a lest by which they may prove the conclusions
to which that study has advanced them. Here they wiH find the
liopea/the fears^ affid tbe ambkions of the poet's b^rt; the tarie-
tiea of charaeter under which the^ame prochictive principle dis-
playa ttseJf«-by turns the careless tboughtu or profound reflection
•*<"fehe apontaneotts ^inioB, or maluse critieian. Here Ibey may
•trace the first conception, tbe opening childhood^ and the gradaal
ripemnff of those works which we now behold only in their full^
grown form; and compare^ as it were, the private cipher of tbe
man with the public smtograph of the author; while, in tbe
numerous letters from the grand duchess, and her enlightened
son, Charles Angustus, we recognise the intelligent and philan-
thropic patronage which at once inspired tbe talents, and secured
the welfare of tneir illustrious literary dependents.

To the English reader, also, who has only a common share of
patriotism, the hi{^ rank awarded to our literature, in the course
of these Liettera« cannot be a subject of indifference* We remark,
with undisguised pride^ tbe veneration of these writers for their
Eoplisb predecessors in die beginning of the eighteenth century;
while the excellencies of Shakspeare, whose genius has become
European property, are gladly claimed by them as current coin
for tbe acquirement of human knowledge, and the interchange of
poetical feeling. Our remarks must chiefly be confined to the
Weimar circle, and we shall be gratified if, by a few translated
specimens, we can induce those possessing the language-key, to
unlock and partake of the feast before them; and still more ao^
should some spirited individual be thereby encouraged to present
the collective work to tbe public in an English dress.

.Herder's letters we find first in order, commencing in 1770;
between the age of twenty*six and twenty-eight, and, as sucb, too
, earl^ to exhibit more than that ardent thirst for knowledge and
deep-seated affection for mankind and truth, which afterwards
overflowed in his maturer works. He commences this corre^
spbndence while travelling with tbe unfortunate Prince of Qol-
atein, immediately on quitting Darmstadt. There he had first
made the acquaintance of Merck^ and, under his auspices, been
introduced to Caroline Flachsland^ the lady who subsequently
became his wife. His stay there lasted a fortnight, and .he left
the.pJace betrothed in heart and hand. This was an attachment
which formed the main staff of his domestic happiness throughout

S96 . LeiUrs to John mHry Merchi'

''These Tetters, th^rcfdt^^ OCCUri*mg«ttbb ^^

wUb al( l!iQ86 alternfetions of hope *fi)tf;de«)p>alri «i|«li|&^ and
V^gWw* wMi li)e eicitemeut of laving Tinrf t),e!tig" Wrvt*;* first
.'„Vv^^^djD >U(:U .» iniixd, CQuld n^t fail to. exhibit. ; 'M,4^* ^«
, ,^cqjl^^4wt, Qt bis affiecljiow^ awfl tbe.l)eaier of. Hi^,jl^ek]i^il«

i . ksi Jkifvieft.c^iQitigJh^;9e>te«t tAii^9»4^«« [ kf^. mm§M km m^^M^^^
^ ^i^rtbekii^piirilido, ^"i blal^e I:ib«Mtmtk*0loiii)iiM4fi||Si,#]^f9^
'•'tiW'imt) Iiheifi'ilr.if i>ou«ro'o£i8iiGb:i|nMefiil4ial)^^ iMrttbllo

c and .b^fpre .^ne eVcis of ner for wboQi it }s Intenued. j.m compmivim
, jay pne^w <?on8Cifince, ve only fuch as wm make vou, no ra-peM^en*

. ! ' Ini^best'fetteiv wefindfreqlieiil oi|tbiiiit5 ^iftbattadmieftA^nibr
O^stMi tftltl^ 3bidi»p^aa!» wHioU fkit niiWMted hi^ itoiUidtioiiioiridif-
'ferii/rt '^^ti^M 'SbUgs, («« yoHt!B>^eler^^)i4b)^ i^i€lU*4ie*4itte*'ttn-

' «fbfdie)f a (ibge of popabr ttadkion/^sV^foAite tbtli^iiHiMtlili*as

Vto'tHeWi:;; HK^iUhusiasiri oil this Wbte^^
words. . '

ft In nudmaging wy papers a day or t>vq ^o I .tQ|fnj<9(HMitiwnIa-

./tlnnininiagingn^ . . , ., , ^ ^-....,

lutiaostwhkh I bad mada some i]m^ back frpm tbe^st JSo^^^Jitlliid^,
J } «9d .tspeoiaUjf Arom Sbakspeare^ Concluding th^t^ y<m bav^xy^H^.giren
I. lUp Sbtikapeacc^ i eocloie a.few.of J^e«« 90faps« Io.tbei9»i§^} E^^isb,
i. .ititk thear own me(|i^ Ald-fasbioiicrt diTJoes m^ ^vl^m.^fs^m^ »l^]e,
.. i^acbi 16 ieyofU^nl. ia i>». Kiod«.afid j» |be places .where t^y j»iA;ig|ff|^fjpl
of most astonishing effect. But precisely for this reason are tbey^ef)^i|dy
^ jint^anstatabt|9« r On %\f\$ acpouqt hi^s W^eland*.omUte(!^ ^'')^>^»^\ '°^'

' so sdfemtjfy myfetfcal, tb^ other s6 etherially sTitjb.ftke'fc^oibyV
' '^5dh^/aB>ftlr'al I iiAn fttA^m^ frdw k tMiph'bf fid^s/^flrCM^Mbly
^ ^tniveiitiid hi^ WidttfKl. 'tliekue^ sotvg, * Wbef«tthe>be<i«iiek*>'*a^ has
ii>t«ciii>t«l«>(^t4i»ytiKli by MatM, jand by the inmalasor i>£iite vj^ssa^fon
-ttfthoiGefaMit/oflii\»piii>;i(ieti;ileiAea ofi Ahem to.my fancy^ 1 9^)Hh aow
j^iirliatbe| rPtr^M«iio^<9a|nfie«it^«,|^^^ i : iba^ fc|r j^ilit«pe.y9¥^t«od
,j|^br^ to||f^,.flO^J»lWor4s^7^IQ^W^ ^/ll^.Cflfkoo

MilFBKLb?ft hWhS'^WlSgly ^FA;P ?/W»»9 by;f Wpel; So fiern^.hppyer
.M^tePfay .W<^>'^JP''ff?. !f.P/?^.^?:^^">/"g^ fl^'!^SsVf?ot |t9. thcf.peffeption of

i»n|- r h I'- ." r 'J .'- ' '."'■'. • TTl . ' ! J' •!• •< ^ ^ i'tjl I
* W'HrU^d.traniUted i2 of Shakspcare'aplajs between the ^^nrs 176^ and 1766.

Jrom Gothe^ Herder, Wielaud, i^c. 897

every blockhead. Besides this, I cannot help thinking that I have dis-
e^^yed ^MleMnttmi^ta M» oiuilUbtptofik^^ imd oftihe bid's soag»
<«^e IliiUk^'htNfeUfy'ia ihflichamoisr tif* d^ deatfatwa«oh>) ^{Boagtl the
'ptdviBcialfMclMoMi •£ mv oimnfaMipv-bilidi;. ^isbieh Jnduoes me, to
.ilevipte.ei|lNlsf A4ti;l|he'£i|g)lslVT^rfiiPi)<, t|^ h^i \C9mi9 ia,way,
a^^Ammf VtpX^Wm a wpY¥^>f^l, e9<B^ vi^h^Jt is iqtKP«u(^e(jl,'^^d
JSbaJ^pfiarp^ has Ac^ie.weU in q^king the .4ukf;» before whoin it is sung,
S«l lopd ip, its^fuse* , Thjs is an old. roniance/ much older than Shak-
..spe^rej ^^ Also V'^JJ'akei pb take tbgse rips away/ These old songs Imve
tnat enect ppox^ i^e, thai t. an^/lifmly resolved, should I ever Set root on
Bmish ground^ .nber^ly to kkim throu^ liondbn, jtist peep at the thetttre
'U^f^arrick, paV biV respects X6 Hume, and iben^y bflf to Wafos^ Seot-
Iildd/and tb^ WesKiH Is}eb ; otibm^ wMdb, liketbe yoangtat toil of
fH$fkttf' ^aeph^non ^riu emUtwrnidi /Shkte . shall I< heae the. Celtic
miUidnii attng^ wiUiy dMntfeilnnithertBl laiigtiai^e and tooe /ofl the
coontry—thoseaoiigs ifUchriQ'Ibffr pn^s^ metfunovphosM into hex-
. ametet^ and Greek metre, I can only liken to a painted perfumed i^per
flower^ instead of that Tiving and fftir-bTobmfng ^mightef of the earth,
wb6 exhales her fragrance on the wiUrmoantam side. But io retom to
Sbakspeare^ help me to bewail a loss, at which certainly every other
bonest man would only laugh. During my frenzy for Sbak^pe^, I
bad particularly studied those scenes wherein he opens to itfs bis World
of gnosis' dnd;ffll#ies^^-Jthosd parts' wlpebabe Gnglisb priaa lis l^w tfnest,
apd ia itfbtdli I tobk tbevipre d^ljlgbt baviog din^^cd aKsay JV^y.child-
boodamengi sqeb Cabled* l bad, for iustance, Mwlp^ted $be^ fsi^f '.^di-
. vertisaenmU 'in, the. Michummer Wight's Qre^m, (wbich tVi^lapd bas» I
believe^. eQ.ttrely omitted,]^ i^nd the witch sceiW in Madbeth, wh^re the
witches are boiling, conjuring, muttering, and bubbling through a whole
discant of ghostly tones — ^but my translations have disappeared, and I' can

3|d nothing, tiothing but b few soliloquiee frpuk VLiig Leary Hamlet,
laebeth, ^d. This is enough €0 msfce me tear my eyes «»t. - In short
I iind every thing but my eonjurationsr and these must have been s^vept
aWay* or burnt, wheh the witches last cleaned out iny iboiM a| Riga. To
lAy own private gratification such a Idss is Irrepairable ;-«bal I cootinue
ptfltidg atxnit Sbakspeare, whom I never can leave, when once I getflpeii

Herder sojourned some months at Strasburg, vrbehce Ae greater
pprt of these letters are dated, and where he parted from the
Prince of Hots^ein. This .city bad a douUle claim upon his r^col-
t^ioDs^ jiavifig led to bis £r^t acquaintance with Gbthei^ whom be
cbaractemtically describes^ (aa Giitbecioes^ him in bis l^ife,) iMid
abf> As bfllviilg been the aeeae of a aeMtf of painful 'Qf>efili<NBa< for
m fistula lacbrynialis tuuler wriiick be laboured, «id ¥4ikb*be >de-
Bdribes with stoical detttiL Hia' disgtiBt^ of Strasbtsrg di» first
eittertfis it is expressed with a true foveas whimsicality. "*• Sfras-
burg," he says, " is the most miserable, the most baiten, and the
most disagreeable place, that, speaking with all due consideration,
I have yet seen in my life. Here is not even a wood, or a spot,
* VOL. XV II. Noi'kxxiv. •■ ' ' '*' ' '" "'"""Eli ■

tjgfi iMlnsto John Henry M^rckj

«

where one can repose with one*s book and one's genius in the
;$hade — and then that it should lie so near Darmstadti aod jet oot
be Darmstadt, is certainly' great part of the annoyance^ but I
assure you not all." In short, in these letters he runs dpwD
every note of the gamut, from the highest glee of mirth |o C)ie
deepest gloom of despondency. For the latter^ he bmdi however,
besides the circumstance of being in lo\'e, some rational grounds,
having been assailed in the most sensitive part by the officiQUSoess
of some individuals, who, as Herder's wife, alluding subsequenlij
to this period in her " Erinnerungen," says, " interfered in oar
engagement, and wanted to model it to their own way of think-
ing. Writing on this to Merck, Herder says, " Let me emi^^ace
vou« dear friend, for all the affection, patiences and kindoesf you
have shown to me, and my, or rather, your friend, (for iu many
respects she belongs more to you than to me«) in her present un-
comfortable situation — a situation at which I am as much annojed
as astonished. Really between four or five people such ao en-
tangled skein of love, friendship, jealousy, hatred and humbug has
been drawn, as would hardly be credited to eiist in so eventleaa a
little circle ; and, as all the ends seem to lead towards jou» { c|in
only call to you, ' Hold tight, dear Merck, till time shall in pitj
have unravelled some of the shreds/ "

Giithe and Merck were at this time engaged in the " Fraqkfurt
Journal," to which Herder evidently largely contributed ; review-
ing, among others, several English works ^ and it is not a JUtle
interesting to notice the different effusions* now an origin^ ode or
versified translation, of which the post between Stnisburg aad
Darmstadt (and doubtless a slow one) was the bearer. In his
fits of lightheartedness, which were here and there spioed with a
little irony, (for Herder rather piqued himself on resembling our
English Swift, and was on that account nicknamed "the Dean" by
his friends,) he seems to have struck rather harder than he intended.
Merck's peculiar temperament disliked perhaps to be encoun*
tered with its own weapons, and in his last letters Herder labours
to remove some unfriendly impression with all the earnestness and
generosity which man as man could exert, or as friend require.
We could almost forgive Merck his ill-temper for having brought
to light so beautiful a side of Herder*s character ; but, witli these
letters befoie us, we cannot exculpate the man who could read
them to misinterpret, or, whnt is worse, to pervert. And this it
seems was the case ; for the acquaintance apparently ceases with
these letters, and some after-passages bespeak no kindly feeling
on Merck*s part towards his former friend.

We continue to ratch glimpses of Herder's career through the
letters from the Weimar circle, which he Joined in J 776. One

Jtotn GotAe, Herder, ffieland, ^c. 399

passage in Wteland^d correspondence is too sapertr in itself, sknd
too flattering to the excellent Herder, to be omitted. In mention-
itig the birth bf an heir to the house of Weimar, he sa js, '* Herder
■Mpoke at the Baptism of the Prince like a God. His disconrse
afaall be sent to you when printed. There are only five sheets of
h, but I know nothing more pure, more sublime, more simple^
more touching, more finely conceived, or more exquisitely delHrered,
either in the German or any other tongue. I doubt whether a
nobler or more impressive baptism was ever conferred on any
derroan prince. Welcome be therefore Charles Frederick, Dei
"Oratia, and may it be well with our grandchildren, by, with or
kmder blui — over him will come none * ex riostrh' ***

It "wete mfucb to be desired that we possessed sbme complete
biography of this delightfal poet, sound divine, dnd amiable man.
^Fhose published in Germany, although severally of great meri^
do not even collectively do justice either to the extent of his use-
-fulness, or to the spirit which dictated his writings. His only
tiaughter, a lady of the highest worth and talent, resident at
Weimar, is in possession of most interesting documents; and
espeeittlly of her father's correspondence with a diertain princess,
which, in point of epistolary style and beauty of moral and
poetical sentiment, stands unrivalled.

The short sketch of his life and v^'orks. In the late William
Taylor's Sbrvey of German Poetry, offers, as far as it goes, a
comprehensive view of Herder's character.

Sophie de la Roche's letters follow next. She is celebrated as
fmving written a novel called " Fraulein von Sternheim,"'* Rosalie's
l/etters,'* and other light, but interesting works ; as having been
th^ first love of Wieland, and the grandmother of Bettina von
Amim, whose correspondence with GBthe was reviewed ih Num-
ber XXXII. of our Journal. Madame de la Roche's letters
ate interesting, as showing the place awarded to female talent in
Gerthany, and the union of the domestic wife and mother with the
*'oW exploded character of " blue stocking'* at an earlier period
t^teu than with us. She writes with much elegance and lively
anecdote, but seems thoroughly afraid of Merck's satirical vein,
aitbotfglr not too much to tell hith so in the plainest terms.

Ni6xt follow si* letters from Bdie, which are highly interesting,
as belonging to that period when he, and his' circle of ybung
associates. Burger, Gotter, Voss, HoTty, the two counts Stolberg,
Miller, Leisewitz, A:c. of whom Boie was the eldest, formed bjr a
study ot the Grecian poets, and especially of Homer, bv a perrect
familiarity with Shakspeare^ and by a new ac<]uaintanc^ with

* Tliis bcpllstiml Sermon is printed among Herder*8 collective works.

E E 2

a doittributor of no little imporUnfce, {)Hti(jM!^M 4%'*i"Hy*

tf wr/rerqjSfcsiRfie |,bfivf, i!mj9>viw »efflf f?7%f>fi«M»gwfl ,?%«

S^iMP^KK W9mitm WRfi»l« to, M/^fih t9,^a^r(T(:inB tJ;fmhlt|w
Jteih%v^»);,tt'jj(bo«ni| iliftiff^WMW VYWd,^,wV:JRWrlWcft.,^<His,

«ftlW«|a ffl»lFb»5M»!ftJ5W.(l>e|;p»Wfi:iWtW»WW^f^ . «!,.

novel called " Sebaldus Notliank€ff,"7n;»/» .pc|jtW- Wi<»^ "Mm

frofn (^tke, iftrder, Wi«ftm#, )^c. "^fA

6f tSUMpejit ^ttiiuk to Ate mkjttditt^ df'lM'aM,^^MkXi^W^^

Frt)to Wr'cdftttHil <Mir, \VWch l^s ^ «6n«^6iidti«f^*Wect Wtda
miffMrtiliip. lit thts edriies|^ii(lefrcd"09ilhe"^j$^r^ t^'fieiH

liiil€s, and of NicolaTs' rfeift!ess' ^ctM^ of 'hitocl,-kvBich'^ifttW
sti'lrtttfesdttifly' recorded hymiteti a tfd«oH^'bf •*% illdirfMllV

rHef

No mttrd 1^9 'pe^jjs ' Va titip^f^A' bbf»K<«6^^Hd4fldi«
llHIfeuTt t6 de^(ib6rr:H*^ i^ iMial

lysh,''^ prmxxxrii not tb /pi^tfohi^ a''aMi^tf^ltfd|^^f/OMk
(Hily tOf'p<%s^t ttiose inrp/eskidnsr t4 trfjflcA '^4in^Wlei^}«PGm

eibsViy^ of thfe coVr^$pohd<^hc^, t^^b'gii*^ rU^.'^^'Fi^m <b^i|am

}^ate ti^tuVe; 'tiiig^ b^^^x)^

fitmTefti'athirir<o''gueJs''4ftlin tb^^He^ide^i''' ffi¥''i^'Nicte»?'M<llJi

also, • ftf^%'^ Htlf i^i*'^t'''>>><^^^

irk\ ob}^ 'iiVnife f ihM ]tb^^ He^Btf^M^ihafly Utll<r9 a^VnUftl^

Ai/ <tlfls e<)ft^iitf^nc^(ocly<fe'(^^o>4i[$ii!i^^Ipd^ amn

40A Letters to John Htkry Merck,

yeam, it oecessarily invelYed the m^t momentottt tfattaaclions
of his life^ ftnd must have exposed Gbthe, like other men« to tim
average ncisbitudes of fortane; yet we find him invariably erect
and colleeted, appealing to no sympathyi indulging in no affise*
tion, expreBsing neither hope nor fear ; ao that, with tbis total
absence of all the usual topics of friendship, his attachment for
the cynical but useful Merck seems rather to be the pretext
than the object of this intercourse, and, although oflfering aa
indispensable aspect of his character, this work is adapted rather
for. the votary of science than of fancy. Poetry, it is true, iMeps
through every subject, forming at all times a graceful hBck^
grqui^di but seldom obtruding as a prominent olyect; and on
this account we can indulge in but slender extracts for an aitiole
of this kind. The following letter^ howevser, strikingly exempli-
fies the man; and shows when and where were laid the foatida*
tions upon which the mighty fabric of his Faust was erected ; . -

'' Weitna^j August ^K 1 r7^
'* I must DOW tell you something about my jouroeyiiigs. Laoiwuiter
a tour through the Uartz gave me much pleasuise : for you know that
much t^ I hate to see Nature tortured into Romance, so much dp I de-^
ligl)t in fiudipg |loniance consistent with Nature* I started alone ^
about the last day of November — on horseback, with a knapsack — rode
through bail, frost, and mud to Nordbausen, entered the Hartz by the
Baamann's Hohle, and so by Wernigerode and Goslak* into the Upper
Hartz, (tbe d^tail^ I will give you anotbek* time,) overcame all difr'
ct<leies, and 6too<t, I think, on the 8tb of Deeembeir, lit Hood, on -the
summit^ of the Brocken. A cheerful genial sun above*«*soQfW fan -ei
and hf^ thick on the ground, and the eloud4)edeeked psjoorMaft cl
Gtimany beneath me ; so that the forester, whoni) having lived for fears
at tbe foot, and always deemed tbe ascent impossible, I had witii difil*
calty persuaded to accompany me, was quite beside himself with ad*
miration. Here I spent a fortnight alone — no human being knowing
where I was : of tbe thousand thoughts in this solitude^ the enclosure
will give you some idea.

*• lo the spring 1 was in Berlin — quite a diflferent spectacle. Wi
spent a few days there, and I only peeped in, as a child into a peiliiy
sbotr. But you know that I exist in co'kitemplation, and a thousand
new lights braAie upoti ne. I saw much of old Fritz*,^'Hof Ids goU,
siirer^ matble, monkeys, parrots, and torn curtains ;-*-aiid oferbeatfdWs
owti ra&ulons snarl at ths great man. A large poitaon of Prince Heacy's
army wkkh we passed — tbe various nmnoiuvres we witnessei^ and the
persoBs of the genetals who sat opposite to me by half doasens at diooei;.
have, made me much more familiar with the present wan Otherwise, I
had no intercourse with mankind, and did not utter a word in the
Prussian dominions which tbey might not have printed j for which t
was exclaimed against as proud, &c.

• Fredeticlcthe6reit.

fromGothe, Herder, Wkland^S^c. 4ai

^' Tin Raphaeb wbkli ibe duehew has brought wHb her are a great
eajfoymeBi to iiie« Now I am in seaich of all kinda of drawings. I
hftW alio just fe*opaned an old quarry, wbicb probably bad been in dis'-
use for centuries* Tbe porcb at tbe old castle was built of tliis stoni;,
wbicb can be worked to tbe greatest pitcb of delicacy. It is very burd,
but cau be sbaved or rasped with ease} has no cracks, imbibes no
moisture, and is of that beautiful grey colour so much in request and
so seldom found. French snuff-boxes are of the same hue — neither
blue nor yellow. It is a woodstone — the middle sort between common
an<l maiWe. Adieu, old man. Now you have heard again from me,
Mil im aometbing in return, and don't forget me. iSbouU tliere be no
var, I will tome day tisil you."

In appreciating the vantage-ground which the collected mind
obtnina over the being of impulse and passion, GBthe seems to
havetiimed and arrived at that stoical atmosphere of self-^posses*-
sidn, whence he could leisurely sur%'ey the vast mass of nunian
nature' (tying like the ^ cloud-bedecked panorama of Germany'^
b^ieaCb bim; and deliberately choose and appropriate those
portions best adapted for his use. To accomplish this, be ne-
cessarily sacrificed the indulgence of those aflfections by wdich
die independence of other minds is compromised. To Nature
he gave his heart, and felt it securely invested ; to Mankind bis
understanding, and nothing more, and though, by the iamiense
range and ardent cultivation of his versatile genius, for which no
subject was so intricate that it did not seek to explore it, no fact
a* sinple that it disdained to appropriate it, be indirectly i«-
chHled ^ diiect benefit of bis fellow-creatBres, (be was, for
]Mt|Mice, Ibe original inventor and first projector of Ibe exceUent
system of national schools in Germany,) yet we may safely ques-
tion w4ietlier he was influenced so much by an expanded phi*
lanthropy as by a refined selfishness. At the same time, by
the same process by which he controlled the elements of his own
passions, was he enabled to agitate them in the bosom of otiiers.
Sio one could kindle stronger and more lasting attachments; no
heart remain more fire-proof than bis own. He despised not
the sweets of love or frieadshipi and no author has more vividly
described them, but he culled them only so far as was conasstent
wMh his oreaoribed law of independeflce. After hia first boyish
fancied. It may be doubted whether he ever loved; but as the
fresh breath of vouth is supposed to invigorate the failing energies
d old age, so did GSthe refresh the powers of his iraagioation
at the fountain of an overflowing heart, and catcb the very tone
of truth from the impassioned effusions of his votaries.^

* Iboae who may be attrtkd at these opinmiM, we must refer to ** Gothe'e Brief*
waohtd mit eineiD Kiode," already meatiooed*

ing' of W^iiy ''a '^€M-Dto^Jled S^i^ih-iwiitftfitminitMi 'OJT *k
of/1itltt^hii'^i>rerfQth'()ttoi<, liba^^m Mifitov4iit»'fiii^^btiiiiiuiii*''
\iikiiMtn ht^tage$ of fUrtmfe^f ' afrtd t^^Who klttiiiotfaitig ui^lwe

tiveiy late in liftlby ^^fAvMridtttfl'^fleedraitt^ ifilfi««iri^fay0dl'«i# '

^^Xh'ii^^i^^ 4«hi^i«pl>iMil%)di1e

fr6m Iktt .ft^^eleYtt^t^fH^teV^Uti^M-Wmldv^t^ftlly^
dti^n^efM, to ^^11 iii iM6^ Hrfio- j|i^n^M«ited/id»£iiPffaot0 mh^^vh
uttd^tebd;''Hs^ Mol»^^; '¥^ilil^ it #ak'^i«sdi byitoimqi^mlfc* .
ni^Y« to^T6<Myy% bli^rsl^ StenWklftildj tbii^kiftd-^liiMl^idiiceta

admits the change that had come over Gbthe. ^^4ttfntiiigfU<^
GStci^t arf^Idyttkfnt^ii^'tile^WliH 'lid «tfy#i^flt>lli» Jtn^qaMD

U8^ to^manttt^ i^!>tir'Uf«^, her%tdef»fi^404te%i«^p^(hi|al^
in<nt>her« '# poKii^r fh>stV^ VL^ Ift^'Al^l^^ilf^nlt^^kqdiUiirMl^
ini% is' fKvhMi^^kH' tic b^;'^itd iidfbil^rcaffib^ (fofMc^Wth^ii*.^^
The sfm^Kydr thi^iitbW^l ^^f'fe^'cbiyAriMd ^t^^Bllieifbilowktr
aentetic^. ^^pe^kinfg* bfi^' ^p6rt o^0i(tii^6 t)btDg-til^ii^biol|<M
replied ^erek; VVfdand ^cfds,' ^^A%on^e>»ttoddflti4^«iaeRaliyyi)^
bhkhi^r ; ' be'isi ii-^lli Vind ah^ go^ df <5«nfiin godd pcwpto^afiftttl
t^d«UiM« <i)f hi^li^ttltb retriii^'i^ti df'^h«i^£libka»«fril%ei'4icb
woW^V i(rMr/h^Arid^ ttftif'the!^ Mtt» W«» i»,'fflitt^4ddreaied4iie
fii\('ti;V^ Hoii^i^'^diit toh^^'^^ < B^tt^r'thttti y(oiir|e«tfeiiMk boM*

In this 'ctoi*Hesp6ttdeiic^ ^v«^f{tid a litely )pf^u¥e«f*ithe'6alM0
iti 'wfafthGStbe t^a^'h^ bJrtWi^ik^rf^ ftiiiH«((«iid ^^uttn^f
Weitilar.^ If is* pfe!^iilee fdVnjed if niWdi^cMiMe '^drmrot^f <th«ir
pM^IJc^ ^g^^ntt'y^iMX^V^t^ <:<(^nir^t'; Utid' w&^lide'>JMi aiilNb

N6«he^' ^^'(b(i' HAtfekM'lof 'iWinc^ttttd ^e(»ttbpe«P«o^M«b
adVaftAa^ litf IMtiJ^tt^'tbe^^MisimttH DUlM ofiW^ldUftr mU bis.
iMs^idti^ if^iVtef." '<Eflfeh%<f^t&'t#lia^'fbutui ii»<the ¥iMC tb«
fiPieM bdrf^Vft^'fp; devi^^ ttie edet^id^ <^ bb nalttt^:; Mid^
wbeibbf ii^ t(ie"pb%1ib j^l'^^^Kif ^agrienkurat ini)M^fitticwt or alale
ecobc^y, bf wbJcb tlibse Klll^rk IrcNlt ta^^fyj; Off in* lfccf'«fi»cial tbvr
and attiiisitt^ seir^b tot* '^ks of '^it; Mrhem no fHbfelMi pibMMna*

de^itat AJMsMriimnnlk h9f$mim\^ more g^^f^^i^m^i^^fh^Jl^ f9fd
hkrfpccmiei!^<wrti^iid>tbefii f^U^ v^^h,,f(H)0vnii»n(ip<l9n4riyi(lk^# «fii

mMfi^farbesf ^t^^^r too >doq^|,'<>ri>w^ UHV» liaiipji.vP 4ijWfftf|
GoliiotiifsiogrCterk^/AiiigMstM rnik^f/ M» ,lb«f'WWt ¥^W»frfe»,pi,

a4lietov^qflM«ittO{)iimU9eilhefffi^pf It^ r„ ,.,:; ,:)^i)

assumes a high biographical valuer «^/v.JSffglwc}|,wbl5KftiV^fN^..

poSliriafismTaiiM ili*»fetigaWe? i»#JJl l^urs!AiM|.^(iflaspijjB,^j«ll„
oB«8nIg0filiio(>Ant)tbi(r itMiiii A^pi4(i{y iiiv^>^b/We .Wdljf>^^9Mf(r

filrtspqptiry^ allloM)i'V b^s M««^S»b«4i8f^«««HChitoeo|^H!<ly^

tio» oC: pn^4e»f|tll•ft(:9l^^OPlall99ftl»Mie^H>|^T^ v^l^^jiJ^ ^dif
nffililMiiUe(ippotffii4iiiiif6ta^taQr ita^ po^Vtfligb)^.fi¥dn)(i^{J|^,
tdokiiiB/be/i'oMnditb^iiir. n§Hb^Ae0k»9g, m^ ^Aripg^fo^pi^^ ^^pn^i
iMtter* il'HoitfiMl f«oi:i4wlis4^diwrf,j4l^rrfQn^jei^p§fW(i^ «of

r^bttPti^dijaioaliiePiHilitUtioa ,jth|«ftHta .tiif|t»))j|^qi;f| ^ ^d^it^^^t
irrifcitioi^* iTibe^iiHithiiiiaftlid jrafhder»,rtI|9^oc^j,ljy)^ l^^y^ e^^yig^z
t#»^4iiKi ibikidoiK^srfof^ faobyror thls'sweet^ \f^ f|9nMiii|ep^]4caU^l4»
iniitfatoaa leaireii i^qsl* quift .Gbflie, und pa93!:9n .to ti^t.po^ of ,fiii^/
graces^ Wieland — whose sixty letters to Merck foroi,tfa^:ini^(| ^r
tmo^bf^ QMeote 4^ Ibi9 Wofk... iCfHiaidececl^itiMer 90i(a.poJ^^fOff|as

andifailcagrafable Mki;.<|aiidit^incH«: th? xi^ .^rxf^t of,, ifjpfif/
wliifki; thalc j^tera dffor, .the^wly cttffw¥j|ty,^,4i>4(,,9tjisjec;ttfl|i,j

g#«iNsosn4 |(r^ale.;€Q(0feMff0e9>iil^s^JeiM^

p^ thftfttUrjtfiiMilo lQ>hi| frui^^titiml nUhp^gbjMSf i^oj|P^.jt^.|]|9,j

ablr tfl^f<ifer»ii0m?K)fi'thQ9^:«|>«»tQhQ^4M^
immi, o^Awr Ah^ i^jogf^iant oft;a^,iMr.b8fiuiu^;jn9|^,fl |^
ought «o jbafivalreMbedM xvTk^ ft.,T|»ti^i| >J(«r^vr,.)4 9,^^^;^^
ymk, »«f wiiicfc bo wa^t^W fwai ib« lyf af. J7,73 tfl ,1 190%, ^mmh*

406 Ldtm to Jolm Bemy Merck,

and mainly eootribiited to procore for Weimar <Ae^tM» df Uie
German AlkeiM^ is the onteosible object of tkia mtaMoiinrta*
Merck laf^ely contributed, especiaHy in the way df wiMm^
and the correapoadence opens by Wieiaod^ formally mokiiig^cMer
to him the critioai deparUnent In tfaia glanee behiiid the sciMSi
we find him apprising Merck that Berlin and Viewaa Ktfeie*^
two cities that be would wish to harve handled soMy and prudMm.
** All universities/' he says, " I surrender to your mercy." PfiMdab
indeed, under Fradertck the Great, seems to have inspired 'awv in
all classes. Speaking of ^ historical aofel whichliad
some notice, Wieiand says^ ^^ Be as bold upon it as yeii
only not #00 biting; for the author is a Prussian* officer, ^4
has a crowd of fnends in blue coats (the PrussuUi ttoifiihtt)
whom I would not wish to offend/' In this periodical moat bf
Wielaud's poetical works appeared piecemeal^ a kind oT le*
hearsaly before printing them separately, which botib feltliie piilrr
of public opinion, and contributed to that deUoaqy ol pplisb
which distinguishes his style*

From the length of time which this correspondeooft mrtiittpat
and the perfect openness with which it is oonductedf ipe.#ie
enabled to trace the progress of many of his popelar iitoriLi^ ^^isii
more especially of that master-pieoe of his genius, Qbeiv^ Tbe
manner m which he details the beginniiq^of this immoijt^JWgiy
of which he gives no hint till he is fairly launched ijOo.itii jMlvt^iu
tures, and the glimpses he affwrds of the. pr<^resa of 1^ fqyil|wtf
couple through theu* various assailments, is no little acqii]S|ti^4o
the lover of poetry. Seldom are we thus allowed to peep lilptQ iba
poet's work*shop* Indeed Wieiand liad not that coimdeno^iv
his own powers which ooald induce ham to espose the ip^ewlk of
this darling. work even to the eye of a friend; on the coaif iiwy ht
awotioDs it with aU Uie timidity and aiixiety as lo resnk wUA
ever ncoooipaay tw'ue genius, and renmids Merdt never to <sn;at
that, tn the strictest sense of die woid, he is ** the only man en
God's earth to whom he either would, could, mr night, tfanseipbee
the inmost secrets of his mind, heart, and whole being." In W^Xkj
instances he complains of want of leisure and of the nece88ai;y
pose of iniud, and of (h^ absence of all inspiration in the peiv
and things around hrni, (yet« if be found this not in Weimara>
know not wbei^ke would have sought it,) and niaka^iit a povserM
plea with Meraki in liis oeiterated sequests iernane cowlrihntety
help to tke Mercury, wbick at thb time eeems lo areigh heaviiy
npos himy and to «dl him from the dewy meads of imagiiiation,
wkaoh wo'e his peculiar province, to the mere dusty highroai of
business.

fipeakiag of liis pfqgsen» lie aafn, ^ My fifth and eisdi

from GUlhe, H^der, Wieiand, ige. 407

are I think tnire nou§9 so good, w> oimiibms nmmeris good>
that I hm only provoked that I cannot defer thair publioaftion-
uutU «f4er my death/' " Day and night," be adds, ^' Oberon ia
all my thought;" and agaAii» '' Oberon is ray resource against a
crowd of dewgrimtM* To those who maintain rapidity of
cooipoaUion la be a necessary teat of genius the following quota**
tion from Wieiand's pen may prove either eocourageoieat or
rep#oi»fti

^ Of'ifae time and labour I devote to this work, no poet, great or
smalls of the Holy Roman empire can wdl form an idea. Those gentry,
with fe^jv exceptioas, seek how they may best make the task of verK*
making easy* I, on the contrary, give myself all possible trouble. The
difficqkies which lie in the mechanism of my eight-lined stanzas, in the
nature of the Iambics, and in the comparatively limited range of our
rhyming words ; the fatigue of manipulating the stubborn clay into the
exact image iAkiA I require, and of giving it that roundness and /fnt,
wtthotff mnch I have no pleasure in the performance, are unspeakable.
I vow to you, I have in this last week spent not less than th^ee days and
a half upon one stanza — the whole machinery being at a stand-still for
one siagia word, whieb I wanted and could not snpply.'*

He then proceeds to ezplain his pecuniary views with regard to
Oberon^ which, he says, are very '' miserable," and describes the
slender profits likely to arise. " But, says the Qennan public/'
he MMimies, " why is this good gentleman such a fool as to
devote so much time and labour to a work which no one will
thsrAk htm for? and to this I have nothing to answer."

** With the gtoriola of the thhig/* he adds, *' it will be much the same
as with the ttUe* Nine-tenths of the reading world are the last people
to repay a poor feHow even in that coin. The remaining tenth, with
the exeeptioo of about a dozen, are hard and fast determined beforehand
uot to gfive m% any oredit, bat to pretend that they would %veave such
stuff as that any day d la dautaine ; and for the tlozea remaining honest
folk, Ab^y will doubtless find real eoj^iyment in the work, but quite in
private i and, should a parcel of saucy boys take it into their heads to
pelt me the next day in the open market-place, no living soul would
take niy part — if even they did not join the assailants. On the other
bandj I shall have full liberty to sit down and feast myself, ad nmneam
lu^ff on the name and fame which awaits me in the twentieth century.
These, d^r brother, tcre my views, but again, I repeat, I complain not}
my lot fe of my oWn casting. Certainly, %ad I spent one-honrdredA part
of the time 1 htive hestomd on wf Idrrscs aiid Oberons in a wefi-
tumed paacifyinc on Maria Thefesa,'Or Catherine tbe Great, my coffers
would w^ar a different aspect { bat soch wisdom I never had, nor shall
have. All that remains is to be rescued to my fate— to do what 1 can
— to bear what I must — and to expect froBEi mankind nothing I do not
cam. And so much for Oberon."

In spite of these half-sad^ half-phiyfiil prognostics, Wieiand

408 Leliers to Join Stei^ilieM: ^

was destined to reaa mucIi'.ori^irt.gV?^ ^J^I^J!^.^^

permanently^ e«Ubasb^d. ; ; n i,.h ..U.^-o v;. v^. ^ylOvii^Vv

In another letter we find an interestins account of Gotpesfini
introduction to the kui^ of elves, ^nd spriles^ .. . .,- , .

" Last week I Ijad a ddl^t^yi mj!^f^\4^^^^^^
obliged to make up our mincis to sit (o Ma)r,,|^Q0f lef jporo <)rpe l/i^besi
of Wirtemberg, was to paint us for ^eri'igbn^/^^d^iDe kfH^Vii^iAt
and afternoon, and begged me, $&enisii&^ 'Miirhb^,^^^^dMi
company, and read OberOn atbilil^ ' tF6liUtiatfcf^ %^ iii^<«W%^btfa%
capricious man was in one of his beM'lM tuMtf '^e|iC^lnimil)i<fi'«
amiuahh as a giri of sSkteen. l^vir^dld^ Me^ai)i|i«ifir<4<i deligUtad tfith
tiie prodocUoft of aootlier, asii)^tt(ii|<wkli>jiiytC>filunGnjpitipq:ialiftiritk

tb« fifth. cantOi wh^ce }inQia^mvjpSitiiiuv^\&^crka[le^
commands, ^ wins 9^iti^3^»mw^^immP^\m!Sf\a^tkyhPm lA^
or two afterxrardft. .he awn^^ i^ ^^'^ \km^f^m^mti^l^ I^
beiore this degree of ^^^J^mM^ f^m^^^^^^^
luefit for a work ^'{?w/Vr/i/m/^/flwrf^vij^^^

Wieland'/s modeaty,.ij v^a^kt:?ef[nifiiwa%i9iA?r^ jj»$ S¥tmkm^
cou8i>ired to apoil '• tWagipnef^MfiQWiWifll^ WSBifc^t* y^BJ??^
vaunted cQolnewaAi4;se|j[-'pof^sipfl,,inj^^jHFS.J^
belied bitoaelf in owmi^ x^iat anlj^iftf^^)ii|y|feMjl^^
command iiis p.wq, poir^radtQ. tJ|ft>.^^y^K«Wftpt:9f/(f^<» ^iXmf^
Oberon. .. 14. ... !. -, , r.i... -.-jla aj-.uofl-Jod k *\»oijfil«ifltV

To «J1 th09€, ^t^\i^\^^^uy^)^\\'Wm^\RiP\}i%n^ wMf
which ho identifier hiip^s^if witb.tl^fg5*aB^'5^R!«&W>W^ W
iiitroducea bis poetic? .pewnftg^%,/#u4 )*^(Wrwrtb^a}ff9BWPf
keeping of hi^ uch a»d v^jedftcceafpf^ ^^^^l^iWW^m^''
ject of has piece, bnvob^p a matter /^ifUCpr^f^jaH^jaclg^i^effi

and, altlHMigh acooont^ forKi,t.ift.tM>r!<ftwro!*S^»Ki^
serve how completialy h^ wnoeptr^J^|al|fiJ(yt pj^^r^^^j^
object, and bent tlie whqlfi energy ^. hj8J»P^,|Qi!t%s(t^^
The letters, at thi«..tiu)^, ?f©..PfWf^^t..Wt9i%rj,ji|j«gf|.^
\V^l€thel^plaiullye or j4;M5UiKt, p|^i:v» i? ^mi^^k^^ »i^
song. Apologising for want of ipWclH^li^iiMi«ffrffiP9!raPff^
and truBting in Merck'fl frien4!|bip!tp.^/^^jftl,ji^^4J^ctnJilA
'* And if it wdreiUDl-Bfl^HtaYisi kPOPVd.how^ i^iipmihM ittS^^yMilf ^
metothjak|.or at(tmpl:(outmnik*«f;v^ri^«^>fi1Kfi' ' ' -^t^-— -.
and woe tome if ,it,«(W;^tfieifwif^»{;{ I'Q^.^.-fmiWl
with threetnjpi:e,b«fQre *^*^.*wf,i5»S?i^i(W>rf.vR\!^
this immense wiiphra i^Q^i\ S^y^•f^%^\^k^?^^^
And oil ^prei^iqHf.5^fuiiWt)ljhl^A^S>^^ « ^WfflSrfWfifFSW

ing a diftctt^^.ovfRcoiii^ Ver^lW^ Jrfin?™?^ inS^iol 10 /oa od .J^^-
" Obaios sbud« y«Hi;his,ifow|plimwinrtI amiljpW m ik%\9m^,wj^
seventh canto; and, my epaffiotfi;^ p|tir,,»fffq[j}gy^, |||^e»,

"^ '• "^ ' ' ' '■ '•■ ^'^ ^ ''• ' \ i),v'r.vV^j\\): j^\ii»:V'. 15 f'i: 117/0^

• Th« grand doke.

/row, Gl^he^ lUtdir^ Wieland, S^c. 409

appearance
whiplf,'* he says/' is born jiist time enoiFgli to escape the effects
of a imd(6rablef inftden^a, in which tnjrsoal is sticking like an oyster
IP ifif^.piu/di'* anci adds, "the shares of kny credit with the duke,
QififJffi^/fi^ ifi^^[y/^im^v public/have risan one hundred per cent.
¥lii:99WPVm^^^l th|^ little; production.. May it only fare the

.'' Wlfcibi^ol iipiiiogijie to Pur Traders for attracting ttieir atteotion

ftylh^Uei^pqrtiQDS'tiiitthisiCQrraspoadelifle which treat of .Oberoo,

f<delkl||fi%mi<rilKed ^thiit thba^'%ih^<lBiiii>m>itbi falUgrown beauties,

tikvibt Vii^iMiSmikttm tli«dfe «drfy ^mtkU of its ptogressv That a

^liWitk^'iha^iM'^hibtild cbitip/ietely ert^^ of its author,

(ttWtf^'ihfe'peHotf but Wie-

laiii^s appei^fy at^liifli^s to ha^fe been kept at that extreme tension

dpW6(lafeVKr^ ^c?(^ih^r,' Whi(^; th^dgb the stifest earnest of his

^<jjU;««'l^'alifi5W {Vttktfdl M t^te, and "ifhich makes us wonder

irlMg R<iitUhi|il6^^ty dP'hiihd^^^ h^ attained.

lie WASsbK'M ^ll^i^'td Mbto^ ota^' ekj^efsftdis hilr surprise at this

t!St«ilftl6itr dPy^\l^r; bdVitig teetii'tcll)orr^y'the hite Mr. Taylor's

translation, ** a hot-house plant; reared within doors; too mtich

MHeH^W ^^ikn^i'^d t^*itlacb cdnftn^d'lilf.setidy^'' Tlie secret

if Wtf/ftdUr^t^V'^A^' t^4fc6Mi^( itf tfte wbolesothe tttmosj>here

MHVMAi1its^.iAM(i6h!l''#eiie%v«t'tiiHifttttiiled; Wieland's private

cMNU(iiP't^{^'>U(y veinkifgt'lh^t^^ lidens^ which his

cRUHH^'Ifl^dM biflfi'lo grktt6'4h^ don^Dtic^fflfilings of his genial

frieita!f,ftW'rteT^r''tittihlet{'fbrtikhsbIf.^ And while his imagination

^iHi(ft¥ed td the feAile shbr^s of<6t^cis^or the hiiurious halls of

thiPeUH/%i^'hl^ii^ ahd ^6dd t«hse, uncloyed by the Tolupttions

idM' siiiiMMI imygfery N^ich' b«4'bee« ptli^sing before his mental

^^,^^'^v^t^fdurid ftta«k>Diikfy, Wffd «ctupied with the little

ch'tttf>dP<h?^'h6WH6iy!r ta WrfuAir.

AUtooj^^e^iilArf^'fitt^d^^bjr th^'^eiitlene^s of bis nature and
tMe^dtky'^^biiiitaute) to iho've'itt Ibe pblitast circles, and caUed
tlAw>B^'th« 'g^rtfitdcoghiirow ^ his tslleuts, Wieland never

m^SaUfniMiS 6t '^?ds;s<i^Jmid to'be>lubaitiit«d for those of
rank, he never forgbt "wii^Vd tbls Miittf l«A 6ffy or lb« sovereign
^^sltt,W>ttli|fl tt> b^if; • Returaing'.from a visit at Etlersburg
(i^t«4 6Pthe'aw^ i^id^<fes), bb j(fiayltfi4y obsbrr«5, '' I hare put
it down as "a regutd sanifaHs ef prudenjiar'm my fiber memorialis.

410 Xtfflfn to JMki Hemy iCefdr^

that none of ny sort diovid 'stay longer than tlinee^nyi wifiia
prince*'*

Nowhere, howeveri has the noble ducal family lieen mm
worthily panegyrised than in this correapondenc^e, whieh teems
with expressions of gratitude aiid respect, untainted by the sem-
blance of adulation or ambition. Ambitioti, indeed, to die
meaner sense of the word, was as foreign to Wielahd's character
as bombast to his muse; and« at the time when the cooH of
Mannheim intimated a desire, and held out a lure, to.nttack him
to its service, we find him thus answering Mer^^k:— ^

*^ You remind me that I oagbi to profit by the fatoutable gsleiwMdi
Boema to bbw me towards tha Neckar, and to torn mfimA ooikh
land where no wine growsi where the water h gooH IW ntflhiagi awi
where Earus and Boreas, durisf fight racHithsftf tlM^ f^i^, asdie dicfo-
feWes as troublesome as possible. Yes, my daaj sir, aU well an4 1^*
if, pro primo^ it were as easy as moving from pne street to anotlbfiri if*
pro secundo, the cloven foot were not every where to be foiipj ,('' weoo
der Teufel nicbt iiberall im Nest ware) ; and if, pro iertiOf ^\^^ ^
a hundred to one that, by so doing, I sboold jump out of the nrh^'p^
into the fire (aus dem Kegen in die Traufe). Then, akhoa|pi Hom-

Eesch,* I believe, wouM do all In bis power, 1 am by no oieaa^ eertfilfl
ow ^r this good' will in Mannheim extends. Grantirig, faoweftti A»t
they really desiK my company, tinder what class aad pto #iM) Meld I
appear? And what worldly advantages could compensate Sm-^^
leisure, peace, liberty, iodepandence, esteemi and affaetion wU(4i I bere
enjoy ? True it is that I simfy (betkulc) but little here, mi an*4a Mm
pmtico, seven times less than I signify. But I neUkerwiJ^^^
Abrnt^ anything ; and in this precisely consists one-third ofoxf.PP^^*
The ruling personages here are perhaps the best in the whole w^^*
They regard me favourably, do not oppress me, would do every ^ing for
my comfort, and require so little at my bands that I am almost tsbsmed
to eai their bread. Their serene highnesses la Gotha are.idmast s|
kindly disposed, so that* even should the greatest of misfintones ben^
Weimar, t see nothing in a wordly sense to fear. I sit, iherefaiej p^'
ably beneath the shade of my flwn trees; and would it not ba lauNi, if*
from all the 110 beautiful apple, pear, andchairy tsees whidi IplantBu
last yeart I ^^re to have no ftiiit? Would it oot be a 6A\f*in l^j^
exchange the safety of my present obscurity (qui bene latmtf ^9*)* ^
plunge myself into the m^re infidum of Mannheiaii where/ toe mopeot
one pair of eyes is sealed, I risk much more than bereT^eiM h cas^ ^
the dreaded event of the extinctioa of the pneseiit line ) Should 1 be
wise tq barter my deli^tful indepeadenoe^ my $aeroMitOiAnr mt^t *^
the golden privilege of laying to all and anybody, * Wbai^a tlut to o^
for the slavery, the grievous bondage of Mannheim vanity } Add ^ ^^
a wife and five children, with a sixth upon the road, and an aged laotber,
all of whom conenr to form a whole, which, in mutual love, bsnuony
and joy, is one of the happiest in the world.*'

Count Horopesch, minister to the court of the Patatinate.

■**^

from Ciihe, Herdir^ fVMand, 8fc. 411

He coQtiDues in this strain, and then adds : —

^ Au coniraire, I am fairly id the way for a lasting breach with the Pala-
tlndte« Guess why ? Are there not sins which a poet, neither in this
nor in the next wotld, i»n forgive ? Only imagine $ Uiese Mannheim
people have been teasing and baiting me to compose an opera for them,
and, now it is all ready, it comes oat that they have given their best
actress, an angel of beaaty and voice, Ua^ae of absence for ajftar ; iot a
pilgrimage to London and Paris, to dance in the planets, or God knows
wbc^ ; and my Uttle piece, which, with the assistance of the lovely
nymph Danzy, might, must, and ought to have had the most splendid
success, now, for want of an actress who can either look or sing like
R^eano^d, may be thrown to the dogs. Is not this enough to drive a
man niad ^-^and are these the people I am to have any thing more to do
with ? So, fare ye well, ye banks of my paternal Neckar !"

In these sixty letters we have ample proof of Wieland's peculiar
talent fof and love of letter-writing. With a happy vivacity he
details the minutiae of the world of letters, of business, and of
intrigue around him; and while he introduces us to the personages,
habits^ literature, and gossip of the day, leads us on with all the
interest of an historico-biographic novel. His style, abounding
in native wit and classic allusion, forbids the slightest approach to
garrulity; and, whether considered as a picture of the times, or as
a aiodel of epistolary elegance, this correspondence is equally
valuable.

To his wife, a being of simple nature and unaspiring manners,
whom he often mentions, he was tenderly attached. She brought
him fourteen children ; nine of whom survived him, and every
now and then he announces an accession to his family or to his
workik with eaual complacency. This called forth the following
remark from the Grand Duchess to Merck : —

** * Daoiahmend (for so she eomplimentarily called him in allusion to
bis Insfeory of Danisbmend the wise) has again been christening. Je
trams qu'i la fin U si reuentt un ^ at the indefatigable accouchements
of kis wife and of the Mercury. He appears, however, well pleased
with both ; so we must let him have his own way — c^actm d nafohe* "

Wieland was indeed just what a poet ought to be. Dwelling
in a dream of beauty and home of love, no views of aggrandise-
^ent, or visions of perfection, disturbed the oqe or ambutered the
other* Healtbi peacie, and compcitence, were all he aongbt for
bis aiuae, his faniily> or himaell. Poetry he loved for poetry's
sake^ aD<l» quoting frooa a former work of bis own, he thus ad-
cfapesses bis muse :--*

'' Thou art, oh, Muse ! the blessing of my life.
And if the world be deaf, then sing to me alone.**

Pure and lively in diction, fancifal and elegant in sentiment.

418

Letienfo John HenrgMtrcfe,
he neither provokes to mir^ nor .depresses ^o melancholy. Is

dtfiri]Jf)fAt<llf»'wM'ihe'tbsytfHV(lich''d«lf»t8MWtiteH^

M^ grev«sl"g«AfM 'Ma^6it^'Uh«'<tirfMtf,JW4ik^!ttM/*tfi4*fte» ftet
among the geniuses of Germany." '•"•" '^'"' J''"''''

•I

:..! <'

l%e^l«ttei^ 'frti^' the -Oraad 'DiN^fat&M'^AinUievoivii iilA iilus-

vvh#mf^ finnfilq ndtbrei and p«uitelyj:tt»iar^^i(M4nflddM)l(#iki»iW#l'f^*
1 '}keHviiiidiFiiritUffbk«if>)it)bal^tera|ipea«a^ Wiiliis gUbieiSi ijlr..!

1ivr(i^ mbre^'digfiifieil' aiJd (Mfjglithil ^riny'ulM^fNfcOpltf^ Q^'tfiir^ caste.
For ray part, I should be the most ungrateful creature betireeir hemta

• nBiiii9mm;4Ml ever foif^ boi^^gittoli »be:hwi{fMtrib(|ted:itq«idif bappi-
J, 1MM ofi0iy!ltft»j. I aMUDp|foM,I cWjBQt ejwriiQpnf«»|ii|te tte^<lfM»o^
vfasiag bfep»dkoul&l;it. be roy. Wli .t^ iaMllv>'^ iU^m ^ittMi^ bffomil^
y.Bev€flily7eani.of(^*." .^ /. ./,•.:. :;. ?,. • . ..-..- .yj;:,, ,,i i*^«n. •■•

)' v'This^as (he toft^ of all Whio/'fcnewUlfhFaeeellleimjiritfMs^^^
'withodt interferliigiff the gbv^ttierit; ek&ctl^Mt^%^l!iift'gtip

* t)f t>(B state wliicb is . best; filled . bjf y uhd^at^ivii Ittfefed^d^jfo)') ^
/'fciimiine mind. . After resigning the' ^rjgeucj, arid' '^
,'.;fulfilpient of all fcpr' hopes and cares mtke p^jc&^H^.ofhefAQ^t
, .h^i:V UecaQiie the province of gracious reniemV^Qce^! ll^^)^'''''

ttftftaea. aod ben^ociient. pairotiagei yi\^klh Ji^e th^ir kwinA^^
Ipentle cotiftesieSi.ojF .Jipcaeiob^ -.tkottgli maU ia. ^ea6t uv8< 'rieh- in

' ' {lel« Wgbii^afV af€N|iiiikitaiiGe^«ite^ j4et«k; -erigkiatfid' iirsi t^''
among ^tfae Rbtne scenery* iivfaere he accidentally met urtth ber,
and M<flfl-M4«c«fd' t<» 4oiii'4Fer<eirile| and wbefe^ bf ihe^reii^i&c"'
afid 9.ultjyatioQ pf |itr tastes, be greitlj^ efah'iiQi:^ li^f lij^
.i/oir the bHBaujties . Uotb of art and aatune. He^vaa«^^
'HMidv- at the ^durt of Weimar^ and on one occaaion spent ^kiore

. '^than Ifiitf *. y^Jjr in' its delfg^tfiil cirt;!e; ; Fro^ .^a^it^feijCHl ^"
. abpjiilf JififQre ius jlealb^ th^ grand duchess luaiotained a friendly

y J

/rom Guthe, Herder, WtelanB, Sfc. 413

to Merck she says : ••..„. .ir,... . m. i.. :!,......„.•

• iH* Tlik 1^4 >cU<G^s«9fithillbt«R*.Tk^rQi(itDAiJb«i broHStit fHifl^ bim
iple^dkLlipaiiiaieii^ nilf sarfr iin4 a^ M^«^ A^f M«gcfil|fMe, beauty.

" Mye ft. omevA

ic^able m raici*

For ine, it is

a f great service^ as, I commenced fAv devotion to drawing rather late in
[fe"' fhU yea^ t ^veatsd )]urcbas/<t'At) dectrifyittg'iMkAtffe^ is

good and pti^Hixl' oM^ kfkhfi^ y6\s touch bccopatrbfi'^ '-TA'^^hkMib tftne
tlic th^attidal werld' ik ttlsoflniriAiiig^ to which' (Hemi Wotf^ hr a
fMtUfU ftUfi' ¥oa wfH «Uoiily rte^vey tbroo^ Fl«tt>A|a4.\amftW'^dra*
■H^'bi^itt, Witfbh' hU jurt- iatticiii from ihe proUfia fbaai Mhmpnfy
Goancilior (Gadiij)« Xhaa nan o|ir days qnielly'tuid'cfaedrfiiUy^ Und
did not the lean cherries and unripe strawberrif^.fff, qqridf^fe^ f7ff9^''^*^
n^. we shoul^ almost ^rj^ft tbat fitadre Naiura^ has yiifieh us with a
cow,' nasty, summer.** ] ' '\' ' .' '. ' . " ' • ' , ' ' ^ '

AgaiiV- Wbea MerokV &t pf , AW|o«»y ^'aa at iu J^igt^C,^e

wivcoa • • » . . >.'i i. J , It ..(.' •«•..! .1 ' . 1 nil (, J

^ Ybar ^le^ant %oiie «ffkltt ap^Mfaf to sever yem ^rdm ftll linnirin> in*
tenHmne'. We see nothing' of yev, knd hear of nothing but boneaand
ikfeietons. Notwithsfaiiding this, I pluck a|) li^rt to adiSess you^ lumbg
a reqoest to make somewhat in character with ybdV pnoteoi atuiiKea* > A
rfiort tus^.agiHliWftt iA9f)iog,.C^|B|pff>^^tlifB,tO'tb« A^ciny o^
Painlii^, ana was much aUoqk.by tj\e Urutb.^. pmti|ij)d\^y q( bia .re-
marks. I now wish,, if possible, to procure some ot Camper's drawings
of the human bead. You mlist know, dear Merc]k, that 1 have for some
time past applied myself to portrait painting, ' and they flatter nie by
sayfng I am father nappy ill my likenesses. * M 'order, tbereforef, to
perfect tnyself farther m this 'lfhe» I should mtfch like' to itt some of
those drawings where Caliper has divfded the head kiC0U?4Mi)iaHtiiettas {
and, faaviaig beard that you ABtieiplit^ tbepleaaumaf isaengkbtt abis
spring, I beg you will employ this opportunity of facilitating oty>n»<wiatt s
witboat) bowavsr, neatianli^ jny- naais. . -An ^ tjie -Ji^i^ dtar j|erck,

■^ ■.nil ..i^.. ^.«y.» »y m.^ Wi ^ ■ ■■>■ .,^,.p.f.^^ .^,^|.i^^ ajll ff T'H'Il'^

'arte of ihe pepiihir imAlumt-^ tliSi«id^'kg«s>wlls^ema AT«;ia<pHrMes»lif Mrtb,
4^ t«9thw of. mwnA bnum mmi#> sjfQis i|'0»niipiFMu| piini.;'.Thef«tio)j^>df^l9m<9f
iirhich teem with pontic benutjr daq iiistortc cbacacter^ were much in vo^uf with^ the
Welm«r set; diid, Madame Gottie*9 characfer parlaking some what or the h'^roUin tfkui
ieiidenieii of- her tndeitt name^ftlM, 4li« wa* genamy ^kncMMi tj ifMI appiMllon
vnoDg her son's acqaainiances.

VOL. XVII. NO. XXXIV. F F

4 14 • Leii€rs to Jnhn Henry Mtrck^

I fliiocild m«€li «njoy seeing ymi here agMii* If bones are jom
atlnctioQ, we ciui oblige you with a whole crop of them. FMttwA,
and keefx me io good remembraDce. Your frieadi

Amalie.**

Without doubting the sincerity of Merck's devotioii to the
amiable duchess, he %as evidently courtier enough to know how
peculiarly he was adapted to serve lier; and we find faiin at all
times pouring into the ducal palace a succession of works of art,
wbick, while they gratified her tastei renewed her reBnembrance
of the sender* Her highness, in return, freely availed heraolf tif
his is^fvices, and frequently consulted him pn little acts of pa-
tronage iand t>enevolence, which she probably found to be better en-
trusted to the distant than to the nearer friend. But wemuatb&re
leave the examination of her various excellencies, and proceed Co
the character of her son, in whom they were completely reflected.
• The letters from the grand duke are tweaty-three lo miaiiMr,
and) both in elegance of style and moral eicceUence^- eahkiit that
enlightened prince of modem days, who, although his reign haa
justly been compared to the Angustan age of Kteratore, and to
the later lustte of the Italian States, has left no obaei^iaiiius
flatteries to sully his fame. In this correspondence, conibiaMj
with that of his illustrious mother, we find a deiigbtfol piotors.of
sovereignty on a small scale — that bappy degree which its owi
Riiy wear lightly and cheerfully; without oompromisiag
dignity or denying themselves the indalgence of the social
tions, and wfaich> though circumscribed in public power, nay be
widely diffusive of private good.

' Tfae earliest date of these letters is at twenty^three y«ars of
a|e, and we find the young doke already familiar with the de-
tails of government, with the afiections of a husband, and the
hopes of a father. His young duchess, a princess of the House
of Darmstadt, who, ho\Tever, rather tried her husband's and

Eeople's patience in the hopes of an heir, is often mentioned b/
in with the most domestic complacency ; and, in her firm bat
gentle character^ seems to afford an earnest of the heroic matron
who was one of the few at once to awe and win tlie heart of Na^
poleon during his insolent career of conquest.

His highness, as if determined to make his litde principality
the very essence of all the sweets of art ahd literature, h^re ap«
pears ardently engaged in forming a collection of pictures, prints,
and drawings, by old masters; aud from the number of his agenta
stationed in diflerent parts of Germany, and tbe discrimination
of taste evident in this correspondence, Sir Thomas Lawrence
himself would not have despised the walls and folios of the
Weimar palaces. The salutary influence of Merck's judgment^

from Ooike, Hendir, Wi$bmd, Sfc. 415

wad the respect shown to his talents^ arb conspicuous in eVefy letter.
Dating from Weimar, August 26th, 1780, his highness begins, •

*' Dear Mbrck : My letter has no object beyond that which the
commonest flint in the world would effect with a genuine Darmstadt
9teel — namely, that of eliciting a spark. I am in the most miserable of
letter- writing humours, and am so spoiled by your frequent and delightr
fui epistles, that I can hardly live without them.'*

And again,

' ^ This is only ad avant-oourier of the acknowledgment of aH yemr
Uttdndses ; ainoag which I may class the Eterdmg, which is cxqai>-
aitely beauttful, and which, in spite of the wretched state of oblusity iH
ivhich a succession of coughs, colds, and formal mits have imprisoned
my senses, has given me the greatest pleasure. As soon as I am free
from aii threci 1 will write to you properly."

Evidently recognizing in Merck one of that rare species of
the human kind who carry a practical good sense into all they
undertake, his highness largely employed his talents in the ad-
vancement of bis political plans ; and, while sentiment waa hardly
to be eicpected from a friend and disciple of Gothe's, . its place ie
occupied by that strong moral sense and practical philanthropy
vvhtch are infinitely preferable in the head of a state. From the
-situalion occiipied by Merck in the Darmstadt government, be
was the more adapted to promote the'lattef virtue, and it appears
dial a comparison between the economy of both states was fr^

Juently made with mutual advantage* The establishment of
ifferent manufactures in his territories seems here to be a fa-
vourite object with the grand duke; and, though he has been
accused of being the man of letters rather dian the mat of
business, this correspondence fully acquits him of any undue
predominance. In the first letter, after a long list of conimi»-
aions regarding works of art, we find his highness thus adding : '

" And now for poliika. In the first place I wish to procure some
%vHiten account of the advantage attending the present disposal of the
crown estates ; with a calculation made from some indivJauai Instanoe
of the same, in your country, in order that I may see how the M
sevenues are continued to be produced from them.

*' Secondly, I want to see a description of the madder manufacture,
as far as it concerns the agriculturist^ and how the land b prepared for
its cultivation f and I must beg you, dear M. Merck, to inquire, in a
ptivate way, among the Swiss, if they would not be inclined to establish
a similar manufacture in other countries.

'* Thirdly, Would you have the goodness to look out ibra few Ana-

iaptistSy who Would be Induced to undertake a journey next summer to

Eisenach, at my cost, in order to inspect an estate whieh I should be

glad to let to them. Von may promise them the foUowitig terms in ray

'name:

ff2

Exeniptioti'fironl'&K sirreiey Mtf ali<k¥lts tl^'

' ''^^IF^uc^n tiheetf wltb ti fd«r peopk itf 'thifti^clAKriiktioiyto'fifaltSllte
iff at an tliii&e tenm, ' tlk^y mpif- apfiy ' obxM touDcr fortfawkii W Jtbr f le^
aidetvi vow Hard, at £it8eiiaoli» jmpwtitht^t^toi ia^idfirtffertiiSf'leiiMdf tbr
MkiffangifiHtimm*-,- ■ . - »j •' .;' i - -li, •;. i;jj »r> h'>innV<'.<-»f-'M''

M.M My. list rof ,«qi»|iiiMJon^f ^?J3Nw fiJfiffBJIib %?bed;, W^qfl^ \Mt

^veseffrt 'd^y, i^i^irti httm ^tnaoHr-tnoMf^ ^ (tiiftic^'aiciinidiii ^

'' VtHH<lthe9i6 lii^d 4tirft<^i[yiV|:, 4^^ woiiefjS^, it

yi/IR'^jiot^'ifpptW ^u^t^i^sittg "that toKin«tt^titWe1ler8V||kbMd<ka«<s
iiii^d^flif^ir ft(<^MNWMid& W:(Alt^^ '^

'' I have been living for the last tUree weeks in sucb a roancTot uissi-
pation, that I have had time neither to think nor write. During this lime
we have had more strangm tiere fit uneeTTtlBtr the course of many yean
had previously brought to Weimar. This evening we also expect a fresh

^pcoe <iinticpkdbitioiiJ'

,, .W^ rejerot to be,ob.hged to cuf pnort cHir. e^i^racte, buHne
re^dipr wui prol^abtv fee interested in bursuing th^ ViQznSny^ 9^
prince who so much proni(^tcd pe advance of Eurpf^eaa iiitell^(;t»
.and wbo„ wheUier in art,, science^ or agriculture,,' wduf^ !We
,crpj>t(?
^thi

la are adapted fo

le

from Gvlhe, tierder, )Vieland, ^c. 4iT

lo i)r()clam Iheirown Wtue to thie toJn(! '6f Ae teader;' Tlie list
at the cc^mpHinp^meot of .(i^i^ t^rticle will show bqw suiall a portion
'we hive noticed, and t^e large jcwnant. yet uhtoucbed., Of this
the correspondence, of .i^ AvM9.t9« «ck} tM pf ^he m^n of science,
afford the. two most diBtinct kind^ of inter^st-r-rtp the, general
reader; cIm former «spechdty^ coi^auningi as it does^ many die^ligh^*
fill lefJlem from WtlUy the celebi^tvd ei^jravervaiild frdnfTMohheiti^
the no-less-famed German artist. The latter, among* Mheran^frM
dbt^ *dttrifected Svi*h pathtlng/'itetails his Imitaacy with the
Cfbeyiltef HtimHtoir (Sr^ WHliam HatiriHcin) ^ N*pl^, i^ fci*
admiration of a girl in the chevalier'^ surte/ivftothhe de'scHtyc^s'
WiMm rni^heS^fgfhQtMM b^aiHyiitif 4 in >bf(BiiAVe^.iMp;).<^()ia)ely
recognise, itfrntMioodem yentfi; baiha^ir nwfialsMfftid.rp^oq,: tl\^
hv^iylMj^Mflm\^,i^A :lmter.iil$ft ffWji>i^ Fuf^ll t^ijI^M^t^nifj
h^ iiO^fodiifod^ aibl Mie 4(Me)'apipn9f!e;i^fiil9i:ifltro^^
Ft|8fjfci|.(hrtrb .99ea tw-ithft lifo*^ apd!.aH,i«hpj^t.4l^^^
witty, clever, madcap president, will recognize him as distinctly

i*> ««TJ*»3r Wot «rf)ittiiH/il^iwa4fcgi^?ito*«f;hi^> |)iwci^^

TITO: muW^'^y^wit JT^marklU laod wn^ 1 ndf* wiffej fi^9F^W^S*^i^9Pff
with M>ci attention that it deserves* , ,

V U;... 4U > .< •' , i ^ Tr"TT""'**"*"*TT^T^T*"^^ ;:" u\' :;».<» '^jid

•»..'' I .»/

,'' » 'i.'I •/(!'

Abf-'VUr.— Jlffl>-« Ti/dbr. Brume eh t^i, jpm

::::::: . ,: . ,•. :.i«r vimor-ttug^.,: Paris,. ,sa^.

..J »j^ ^,,-.^ '^•_.* - .* 1 • '

The observation of Cicero's, that the theatre ^faotild b^ihe spetfh-
lutfi vifiB humgnie, is so, JMstj^ and so fratight with important ^on-
seguencds to tlie .refinement aiid morals oi s^ uafjon, that ii Cannot
bejpViiiuch insisted upon W'thpsew'hose duty it is to iQVesil^at^
fne merits of- dramatic works and writers. ' , . ^

4;! 8 Victor Hugo.

riuge to Philip II. of Spain, one of the most deteatstble iiioii5ter»
of cruelty that ever cursed mankind. 'V\\t blood with which
she deluged England soon proved the congeniality of their dis^
positions.

The main subject of the tragedy is the queen's love for a Neft*
politan, named rabiano Fabiani, and the death of this paramour
by order of Mary herself, when under the influeDce of jealousy.
But, that the reader may have sufficient data from which to
form his own opinion of the merits of this work, we shall, quitting
generalities, proceed to its details, and follow the poet from the
opening scene to the fall of the curtain.

The action is divided into three '' periods," each havhig its owm
peculiar tide; the first being '^ The ArlUan.** The scene lies
upon the banks of the Thames, near the house of a working cut-
ler, named Gilbert. Simone Renard, the Spanish envoy, and
several of Mary's courtiers, are introduced conversing (how
and why they should meet and become so communicative m such
a place, it is diflicult to imagine) upon Mary's fondness for Fabi-
ani, upon the popular indignation raised against him, and tbe
general wish for uis downfal. This wish, Renard assures hm
companions, shall not remain long unfulfilled. Night approacb-
ing, the courtiers disperse, while Renard, mufBed up iu the ample
folds of his mantle, the better to escape observation, lingers near
Gilbert's dwelling. With this last-mentioned person lives a young
girl, of whom he has been long enamoured, and whom, now that
she has attained to the full perfection of her charms, he anxioosly
desires to make his wife. Pity, which «* melts the mind to love,*'
had first created the interest he felt for her. He had foand her
when ^, babe exposed in the open streets at night, had carried
her honie, and brought her up as well as bis means allowed.
The honest lover little imagined that the object of his dearest
hopes had already set her aftections upon another — upon Fabiani
— and that, seduced by the flattery and the presents of thai gaU
lant, she had no longer any thing to refuse him* But, although
(he victim of seduction, gratitude still maintained its place witbia
jier heart, and she ceased not to regard Gilbert with all that afFec*
tionate interest and esteem which benefits conferred naturally
create ip young and ingenuous mmds. Such were precisely die
sentiments which Jane (for that was the girl's name) expressed
to Gilbert, as he was about to leave his dwelling, for the purpose
of transacting some business in a distant part of the city. Having
thus taken leave of him, she returns within doors.

A Jew, who, by a strange accident, which it is unnecessary
here to explain, has come to the knowledge both of Jane's retX
birth and her connection with Fabiani, accosts Gilbert jnst as he

Marie Tudor. A}^

loaves bia praUgUp azures him that the girl has deceived hini|
advises him not to leave his house that night, and at the saine
Uv^ disclosea to him that the object of his affections is the
daughter of Lord Talbot^ who, in the reign of Henry VII I«, had

Birished on the scaffold for his adherence to the Catholic faith,
e, tells him nioxeover that Fabiani» v^ho was aware of Jane's
.claims, having come into possession of all the property and estates
belonging to that family, and being fearful that the secret mi^ht
pae da^ be discovered^ bad seduced the girl as much with a w^vf
to his mterest as to personal gratification.

Griefy jealousy , and rage, by turns distract the breast of ih^

^^U^9k^ upon this communication, and he resolves upon vengeance

^ whatever cost. Tlie Jew promises to further his views, pro*-

.vided be readers him a like assistance in a business of his own.

.While thus conversing, Fabiani, singing a love-ditty, and accom--

papying himself upon the lute, approaches, being on his way to

<n^et his fair one at the wonted hour. Gilbert> following the

Je>v's advice, retires, and Fabiani is about to enter the house,

vrhea the Israelite, .who is close b^, advances, and without much

preamble, informs him that he has in his possession cm*tain paj^ers,

which |urove Jane to be the legitimate daughter and lawful heiress

pf Lord Talbot, and as such to be entitle^) to all the propertj^

^4 estates belonging to her deceased father, including those held

by him» Upon hearing this, Fabiani insists upon having thesjp

vouchers, but the Jew refuses to part with them unless in ex-

.4;haQge for a p^per signed by Mary, and given by her to Fabiani,

^iiich ensjures to the person presenting it whatever favour he may

dcuDAnd. The JewV intention is to avail himself of it, in order

.to recover from the queen 10,000 marks of gold. At first, FabJ-

ani refuses to give up the paper, but afterwards, taking it out of

bis. vest, as if for the purpose of giving it to the Jew, while the

.lattejr stoops in order to examine the signature, he plvinges his

dagger into his throat. While falling, the Jew throws from him

(unp^rceived by Fabiani) the papers which cause his death.

The Italian proceeds hastily to search the clothes of the murdered

man for the important documents, but, not finding them, his next

.^^e is to dispose of the corpse by throwing it into the river j and,

being upable to. effect this by himself, he goes for the boatman

. who rowed him to his assignation every evening, to obtain Iiis

assistance. Whilst Fabiani makes his exit on one sidcji Gilbert

enters on the other, and, finding the Jew just expiring, inquires of

him who is the ^nurderer; the other informs him, and at the same

time points to the papers, by virtue of which the birth and TJgh\s

of Jane may be proved and asserted. This done, he dies, wliilst

^GiU>ert pick?* up and secures the papers. Ifabiani, who htjs

4S0 ViclflT^^lfugo,.>.

faile^^ in mepting; ^j;i|Ji th^ boat^P,, npw f^Mfns^.ui.drfer^ to
make; away with tl|p Ij^f^^^^nd^kj^iu^ Giibi^rt j^lQise^by^idmro
his &dsis^ahc6 in consigning it to the water. At first ttHe-wtv-*
san refusesj. but Fsibiapi,, i^^oi^, qf)i)vjpq^fi[; bKj^iipf t(ie >n9Qmitf,
of com^liahci^ by' tt^r^piteiujng^^o ^i:^

mitteS tW mur()(^r~a qriiAe^ ,vT|iplv,.ijf . qn«>,4)ft. Gi)tert4i< «hf»
is pynishabie vviifi d^eaili^ ,jvl^^^ W9im

escape' with th^ ^ nqinilial, peiialty qjt iq^r»J^em;^r-fi^^kt,lmng the
law df England ^'t tjiat tliip«>aiC^o^d}iig;feo 9W wil^^ TA^p^irnkj^
for the murder iff g, Jj^,,by,a npbki^^jb^^
Gross* aV niay bav^;b^^^.i^^^ mi^ntk\cmtmyi$

can'^Dj^ one belje'\;^ ti)4V.?uci|i p ]&\v. cov^J poaiiibljibfi^^it^^
WiAf<i)Otv|iow€vp,; pt9ppMi5;ito pi\y^tfi ^.^^^^ht^kood pf
this'^Ke^ed Taci, we r^tiiri^^Q^ pur. ii^nUve*., AfVi^r aotmiamm

theirtifean j^lil| nj^ar j(n^^^^ Hil^ fri9r4>

ensii^; ' <Ji|b'erl d^jar^^, ihait . ^kt^ysff M^iipA .ihjr^wai Ita :be
rev^tig^ i^soin^ ^iiiie pV^Otl^ej;^. pe^pg.^^^waff^lf^jLjrfr^
witfidraWsj^ fujiy r^go^^^^^ qwisi i^ind i^pqaJtbe.-dMructicili.

of d?llt)'ertVwlio'^[a))^s^^^^ uow.pssqijtialfpir bi^-^^^urily. ^>Iicft
alon^yGiTfbert.sees uu^ grouUdXp^ j^Ujettq vjiljh whipb F^bi*

ani /hacf' ktlleci 'ttie J.'eWi' ajid;eagedy ^^c^f.^^; it ' The Spmab
envoy, >i( 1)0 had been secretly ^q^germgw^artbe^^p^^
varibud b'ccurren^ess.ot^ the.riight* ;a\^d yi'as pq^^fiqii^tlir MFell acH
quaifited with an. uoyv' bntct^j^ ,a|)d^ .^udii^tGilbrqrt l^rts^lhing
liothhig blii yengearic(^ .takes. A4>'f^P^^^ ;0f . hU |es^if|teeiil>ito
convert iiiai* - into a .ht . an^jwi1)ii}g; in^t|Fun)enA . fpr hi3 owii>. dkr
signs'. ' Atter miUual promisor . of ^aistauoe^ Gilbcirjt engtii^g
to further the 'Spanrard ^ yiew^, iind the Jatterpk^^Bg btra^elf to
gratify the vengeance of tbe c^utler, who swears to aicoqaplisb fais:
purpose/ eve^t fit ih^. sacrifice *of; his ovyii Ufe^.ih^y separate* *

I'b^^ieccnd jpemi jfe entiijpd ''TAe Quefff^' wi Xh» aoenejrf
actioVi ik R^2^ry^*'pa1s^ " ^h^ queen, havi^ig bf^fw .infonaed :by
Simpne ReW(i^oj^ pj^bi^niy'i^defity, .r^<aes tjt^give.tsttdit to

(^w- ''5

the ac^dus^tion, ui\I^ss suppQrj^(\>biy^|^ OMtinoiol^

prodisJ, *,,*l'^e8e the .efrvoy cjecb|i;es ^q.bc..rea4y, 4ie bad canaeS
the jfbhhjl iyoman/sedufied^ Ttafiian to be arroiteridiffiiig

the niig;bt} ^iid liclr evid4i;||pe^ cgrripiioraAefl .bj thM of .Gilbert^ who
cared'n'o^ at* \\;TAt price b^pur.^ased veugeanceiidisclofled eveiy
thing/" No ^ sooner ,lia,s' jMaJfy. become .conyiJNeii ofiier

ttfesr.vHMrti her' WhrieV iave''ls 'i|!onv(ffrfe<i liitp ' t|ie'''''
lis htlte,'t<y W salfsfied'bNW wKti tbe blood' of the :

niostwmfao^i

^)«tMtt«.'oPi|hd ♦ite^; ifl?dult^ liei^ conirhcnbes, ''The (iM.^^ii' v,
cl«vr d^b^fiita bef^bh)ugUt %/iut j^revi^iislj'^^^tb tils enj^n^g^j.^^
she«|»ibc«&illtfiii6'oi^heir '^q^ttld'4ti <^^^ iifi, ^" <^^J9(J9Wg. /;

chaULber; Vitfr'^irecfidnstd tiiA'W tipon 'ia diertain sigiiy/'^^U
berC^fil xifttn^dli^edT-mrdF, dn' beiit^ asked bV Mary if ne-Vs Watfy^^,(
to wiMn^'^Vefi shouM'it t6it hmhisdyhiXttei, her wratW upon the .,■.
Italian^ •aiiA^%' 'Ibis itieani ^vettg^ fkU owti' >vrohg8' uppn.m^^^
sedilCM^«f'bIif<M6¥ed, be' V^d^^s' because he is as yet not qerl,' ._

rr(

shei^bpl^sltt'^tW de^ tifW'hfekrtfelt sorrow '^tna^fig.
GilMj'^r \AMy A^^hild'^vei' cherisVed dtt affeaionate regai^^^^
Th6iltftt«i»1ftM«diate1y c^ri^d'^fbitK l^ih'!hi^;)c6ncealnp^n^ ?9^i^i{T
addiBi»«iin^ tlt^^ ^tieen] tfetU^^ 'Ti^^elf ready 1eo ^xecqie 1^^^
hesttl^ii^tOflQiliM sh6 lf\^iH^^^iaH'by h^r crowti and''tbe potv, gvsWlft.Hi«

to ^Um^^^im ^^ - '-^ • • • '"^"^' '' ^**^ *^'''^''"

oatlip/QiUbbrt itMft^^iMi
dauffhltoaMik^U^MM

sonsir.iMdti^itK^in by^niaityiil^ b^rr HH^e qlieen, wJio i^ igi^y^a^j^^,,.,
tbat'fiaMilfiiid'tlfe sedbter^^lVid^df to. k-eadily consents to ^i?fi.„.
justice dotMe tci'tb^ ttfticfa-^vroitg^d 'orphan^ Svnicn pronajse tfemg,!,.,
obt3]tieil/^€l^b^rt'de<;l^e^ the seducer tb be iPa^isfni, an(^^ii}s'xff;^',^ J,
tim \biM>'<^be quedn 'fa in^f^dutbusV but *<\ie cutler shows jiei^,,,..,
the f4p«IW giV^htnV'by 'th^ JeW/'iriie situalipn
movfiqwbKtYa^itfg, 'she t^a^^ 9bldnhiy*dSV6ru by l^^i^^royi^m§^[ ^,,\
tbe g6ipeb<«0 Ifl^airt Gilb«rt's fie6i!ieyt, while the execfution of. bV?!! v\
TiVowik&wM^t h bbly 'cdtiditibba!. 'Ill this dilemma, a 9U(|deii /..f,
Thought — ^--»- - i^-- ^^i- — --^^--^-^ .r^f^.:..?^^V"M

Haimg»f

witb/4hb

a dagrfth; the'**a6ie da^er^WltW;H4*Tc1i'^PabikniN4ia^

the je^iof > tMb. < ^> 'N<y soonei'Miag Gil^ett' 6%ed ttiis o^^r tha^,^ „,.

the ^eeil'sm^^'&ls arM/iitid^'iitidmi^ ^'^^^ shriek^ call? jf\,fbip ,,f||

courtwra'hiM^ibfe' gutlkM^;' atitf; Wecftl^g the grea^ ,,f|i

•>

I

MS Victor Hu|^,

has prepared an agreeable surprise for biia^ afidioiiiie$4leijr»
upon a given a^aU Jane appears. The ItaUan, beuig %Atpd if
he knows the girl, replies in the negative. Yieldiqg .|o bar lage^
^ary strikes bim in tbe face with her g)av^ voAf using tbe jMltef^
est invectivesi infqrms him that Jane is tk^ daiigliter of JUord
Talbot, Countess of Weiford, 9nd aa such acknoHdedg^ her in
presence of the assembled courtiers* Sks IbeaHgaiBfiiiditlg^s in
Ike severest reproaches against her late lo«€»> and comawuids kim
$o be committed a prisoner to the Towe£ of iiondom iheie to
avisait his trial. Tbe Italian protests agaipat thia.jtr^tmMl;»fl9-
J^mul; denying his having been guilty of any aot deaerving pMntab-
inetit. To this Mary replies that it is nqt her ii^entioB to ponisb
him for having seduced a lady, but for a very differeat. crimen
But, before. declaring what that crime is, she ordera th^^iabole
court to he assembled. This done, Mary accuses FabiasH of
having made an attempt upon her life by means of Qilbn^ The
iatter, already prompted what to do, confirma the accusatian bj
.confessing himself the hired assassin of the li^rouriley ip pinof of
jwhich he produces tbe purse he received from him* mA tbe ati-
Jetto with which be bad killed the Jew« This JLord H^ Cbaii^
cellor^ who is present, decbires that in caaes of treaaoik copfcMias
could not save tbe culprit, and that it. wa^ even beyond tbe |iower
of the royal prerogative to extend mercy to the offeiide^*

This second act or ** period,*' as the autlMir is pleaaed to call
it, concludes with the appearance of the executioner in tbe f oyal
-presence^ why or wherefore it viK>ttkl be dtficuH U^. €0<u»:tUfe,
much more to explain.

The third *' period" is divided into two p^r^s^ aM*4a W titled
'' Which of the twor ■ • .

. lu the nrst part, the action lies within the Umi|^ of ibe fm^on
of the Tower of London. Fabiani and iGriibert ikiive \ms^ con-
demned to death iov upwards of one montb, bul tb« ^iMl^OPy in
whose breast not only compassion, but even the moat viai#iit \m^
bad pleaded on behalf of the favourite, had kom time to . time
jdeferred the execution. So loudly and so importuaa|e^,b^^ever,
was bis death demanded by all classes, so strongly waa it inaiated
^pon by the court, the people, and tbe Spaniah envoys fbat MaO'
coukl no longer delay iufiicting the pt^nalty of thfk kiiy t^pon opie
Avha was the object of such universal hatred. Fabiani was tliera-
fore to suffer on that very day, and Gilbert on jtbe next. Bm^,
akliough apparently compelled to yield to the popmliyr voin^ tiie
queen was resolved to save her favourMCi at whi4evef coat..

Qn the other hand» Jane was resolved to leave no means un-
uied to preveiBft Gilbert from being brought to tbe scaffolds ^ioth
jfem^esi iffupelled by tfa/e same motiyei and ^Qti^t^ My:WBii^

Marie Tudor. 4S»

feielings,' introdfice ibemselves into the Tower^ Jane yecsetiy, the
queen openly. Simone Renard, who is in constant attendance
Upon the latttfy and continually urging her to order execution^
0ndi|ig all his representations and rcwonstranceB vabi^ and sus-
pecting that Mary's intention is ultimately to save her lofer, or at
least tp put off once more the infliction of the penalty^ determines
to excite popular commotion, and thus, by acting upon the
queen's fears* to compel her to acquiesce in the general wish*
In the mean time, Mary, having ordered ^ attenckince of the
oonstnUe of the Tower, enjoins him to favour Fabiani's escapoi
and be in consequence causes a boat to be placed quite close to
a secret gate of the Tower, which overlooks the river. Jane, who
had concealed herself near the spot where the dialogue took place
between the queen and the constable, having overheard every
word, conceives the idea of saving Gilbert by the very means of
escape provided for Fabiani; so tliat, at the appointed hour, the
honest Gilbert is substituted for the fevourite, with the assistance
of the constable himself, who, participating in the general hatred
against the Italian, cares but little about disobeying the queen in
this instance. But, at the very moment that he thus favours the
flight of Gilbert, he orders the boatman not to hurry, a circuok-
stance which is wholly unaccounted for by the author, and which
must cooseciuently be added to the many incottsistencies to be
found in this drama.

In the mean time the people assemble tumultuously, cries of
vengeance^ are already heard in the distance, and an infuriated mob
is soon perceived advancing to the Tower. The queen, who at
that moment has just left it for her city palace, there to devise
the best means of appeasing the popular indignation, witii cKifi-
culty- succeeds in returning to and shutting herself up within
its walls. The Spanish envoy, who is still with her, deriving
Aresh boldness from the danger in which he sees her placed,
and which he himself has created, urges her still more vehe-
mently than before. But obstacles and dangers only impart
new courage and resolution to love. Mary is ready to confront
every peril and to make every sacrifice to save a fakhless
lover. The crown of England itself is nothing when pteqed
in competition with Fabiano Fabians. Site again surasions
the constable of the Tower, and inquires if her lover is
safe. On being told that he is not, she gives way to the most
furious transports of rage, and heaps curses and imprecations
upon the court, the people, and the envoy. Nearer and yet
nearer are now heard the cries of ^^ Death to Fabiani ! Death to
Fabiani !" Simone Renard and the other noblemen renew their
enti^tiisa with Maryi who anawers by atigmatizmg ihasn as cow-

4^ Victor Hugo.

ani!" is again heard in sounds more fear^iit ftoxn tli^ P^iw— sk'
The mob are already under the Tower wali^, tbe |£,^cli n^fiJM
up, and preparations made for forcing the j^t JBate^;''tbfc^ts ve
lighted, the report of inusquetrj is iiearq^ 9(one$ ny m ^^Te<j
direction, ttie windows are beaten in^ lujd'fi^gtiieo^jof' glassware
strewed about the floor and reach eveti to the (eel ol^ tl|e oue^'
She can no longer resist. Pale^ breathles^ aud.'^atf-fraptic; w
her nether tip for rage, she allows Simbne 'l^nlirfl:|o,pJ»^c pi^
self at a window to address the p^ople^'i^jii lo'ufonai^^^^
death of Fabiaui. The Spanish eiVyoy'ften'^^ioj'Sirs ^mjn
the multitude, announces to them the'immedis^'exec^^
sentence, and adds^ that t*be Tbwei* bell WilV'to^^*di{rt»e'rT^
the prisoner is conveyed ft*om bid prison io Oiesc^v^ot^ ^'^
three guns shall be iired — ^the fivsf; 'wtieh the pnsppeir'Wicewi A^
fatal platform, rhe Second wlien jhe lays 'W.!^^^
block, and the tlilM when it is sev^^ fl'^P}^^^y^oiy'\^^!?h
he recommends that the eity shbutdb^liluminafe^^^^^^^
its joy at the event. The address of tV^ eiivd^r 19 ans^rcrftgf
loud and deafening shouts of applause/' ^«;jfijniiii^^^^^
Long live the queen V* are the exdfimatioQS or'iKe. M^^'j|i^%^
who have forced her consent to the '^eath .of 'bcfr ()eloVjM|j /TJlf
multitude then dispersing by degrees, quiet Vs afiitn"'wj(ro?f4^
Thecju^en, however, is not indined ' t^ " k^OT 'i^^^^^

geople, by fulfilling the promise made to^thfem jlA^W
Ordering the constable into her presence, sH^ commynain^
pain of losing his head, to save rabiani, bv dubsU^iitlhg^^^t^'^
for him, a thmg easy to be done, it being tne custpn|l'tb*cpMUct
the condemned to the place of execution covere<l'w^"a Y^W jj^f
black veil. But how shall he execute the'quW^nVd&iSSm^
Has the boat yet left? The constable runs to rijWnid^W^.'l^*
seeing it still at the secret gate, promises, upon'fcls^Ufe. to ^^^^^
Fabiani. Here ends the first part, of the third peiiocf; , \^^^*\

The scene of action is changed in 'the se^pnA p^t/»W
presetits the 'H^ir of'the Tower through >vWc1i"m9tleflK'M
accustomed to pass on their way to executiODt- - , , Z^, ,. /.^
Jane, who i^accompahied by one of tlie^gfiardswl**^*^ ^'■""'
is desirous of going forth in brider to' meet'tieV'GHll
way to execution; but hj6i' request is dectdreq.im^Oi^- ^^^,
granted, no bne being allowed to leave the *^iSii}tr' Kcfore! "*^
condemned. ' Slowty the^' Tatter cfos^^s the ;li^^'fWl**%'"*^^^^
f or/ige, and covered with the black veil before ■me^'Coijeiif *
most interesting scene now ensues betwe^l 'the' qii^^'ab^l'"^^'

While the. former is certain that it is not F«l>iaYii thus proceedwg

to ipeet nis. UiXe, the letter believes exactly thq r^verse^ and the.

&r^aBf!ix(i ^interest Is wopdeffuilly heightene.d by the manner in

which thcfy mutually betray their belief and their feelings. The

nkivu^fur tolling of the Tower bell announce^ to the two fepialea

that' thjb condeiinhed is already *pn hif >vay to the scaffold, The

CltW1E»^iltia^tly illuminated^ is seen through a window at the end

of ^^e, chamber, testifying the universal joy, with only two ex-

cep^S^ST; ,' At £rst Jane throws herself in a state of despair at the

queens 'fee tji colouring h^r to send .som^ one . to stop the exe7

eiiu(Sil\Mk^yj\vhd as yet uns^spicious of (he tiuth, dei^n^

nof CO fistW to ttie lamentations. an(^ prayers of the unhappy girl,

b(it|t&^suat[en 4<^ubt gashing across. Iter, ipindj.. she in fier.tuni

liecgB^^s'.agonized. and with cries of despair calls for the guards

Of t^e fpnsou,-and despatches horsemen to. stop the ei^ecution,

]S'^t&e t^l has already ceased to toll' — the Tower reverberate^

t^ ijrst Veport of the cannon.. " Ah ! h^ is now ascending, the

sc^uoi^^* shrieks the qu^en., Tl^e second report eclioes. tl^rough

ifl^vai&ited . chamber. , /'He kneels! tie kneeUr cries, toQ

P''^"'c6c^ Mary. At the th^rd report^ anguish chpkes her vgicci
Vnicn of the two wa^ f xecuted? A ^door at the bottom of
me f96in opens,; ^pd Simone Renard oon^es forward holding

^ |.Su8b*'is jthe tragedy of Hiigo^ n^af^y beai^ties 91:^

more Inan counterbalanced by mni^merable defects; resem*
bUpg^in this mostbr.tbe othei* .productions of its remarkable
author,. whb^bein^' gifted with more warmth of imagination than
'^schiqination and judgment| allows himself to be carried away
pj/iue.(orn\er in .a far greater degree than would be expected in
f>n^ wiip^^spires to the first rank among dramatic writers. But,
wK^'lever* may^^lfe the literary merit, and ^qme it undoubtedly
tpo^sessi^s,^ whatever may be the stage effect of the tragedy in
au^stioni what idea should be fonned of it with respect to thAt
loftiness of purpose^ that ennobling end,, which ought to charac-
terize' every dramatic producti6n? \Vhat moral instruction is tp
be foupd..contaIncd in Mary Tudor? None; certainly none, —
a case pnfortui^ately too general with the tragedies: of this author.
' *Fhe imaginary amours and crimes, of a. queen are, the subject
of rti«»tjr^e^^y., The former are pf no .interest to ai;iy,.one^ and
S^\iere fs any moral instruction. to be. found in, the latter ? The
l^c consideration will conyiii.ce us ths^t |he pnly effect produced
ijv'{|iia',*^ncl simitor dram.as of Victor Hugo's ,^ that of creating
jit\^ t^e ^if^s of the spectators a profound, (lisgM^^ ^"4. cpnteinpt
for man find life ^ts^If. £jver^ ciicmpstaiic^ s^ppears iii the
maoiifs^, colours, every fact js repr^seAM ^n the wo^t light, and

4t6 Victef Hii|^.

«f«i7 aetion is fttfrilMlttd to the worftt AbtWes. If o HAb^ ^MA
netlirns a cheerful and spirit-stirring toUhd h Imicbed hf Mr
author ( his touch awaltens oiily those whose ittOtttnlM and
lugubrious resonance discourages and depressea the nutui; be
eidier does not or will hot see that a nevet^-ceftaiiig i«|»etilkN] of
the saaie strain generates not onlj ennui, bat an extreflle in-
diflerence, in the auditorS| whd^e atteotton it will hn mlwoM
impossible afterwards to Arouse : in the tame mantiHr ai tflihiBiy
when administered in too large quantities to the Orisntab,
renders them stupid and insensible, nothing <Hit an ilicrMBe of
the dose being able to produce in them the deaired efltecti By
continually touching a string which should -be atnidt not oriy
leldolki bm with great judgment^ the author has deprrredUluself
of one great sooitie of producing stageMsflFect } he has Id HWHteki
degree annihilated his terror^xciting p«Wer. NtMf Wflltl be
nteletant to point out to onr readers how often Victor Hugo is
in open eontradiction with his own principles, or nfthel' tc^ ifaow
how totally toid he is of any, and how deteruiiied nov^r to
ncknowledge them.

^ In a abort preface which precedes his Mary Tudor, the •tUlior,
speHking with almost oracular authority, aud as if in tbe mune
und on behiilf of the romantic school, of which he of coorae
assumes himself to be the head and chief director, thus diirac*
Mrizes the draiiia, which he wishes to ite estabKshod ih the Idtfa
tcentnry !

'* S*il y avoit aujourd^bui un bomme qui put realiser k drame oomme
nous le comprenons, ce drame ce serait le cceur hnmain, la passkm hu*
maine, la tfite bumaine, la volout^ humaine, ce serait le basse xessnscite
an profit da present, ce serait rhistoire que nos plre^ ont fait, tonRontile
atec lliistoire que nous faisons, ee serait le melange sur la s^he die toot
Ce qui est m^l^ dsda la Tie; ce serait une ^meute lit eS ani tanserie
d*amour ici, et dant la eaoaerie de Tanioer une lefon pour It tMipk, tt
dans r^meate mi cri poor ie ceeur^ ce serait le rira^ ce serait lei krmei,
ce serait le bien, ce serait le mal, le baut, le has, la fatalite, la pnmdeooe,
le geni^ le hazard, la societe, le monde, la nature, la via; et» an-'dessus
de tout cela, on sentirait planer quelque chose de grand.**

> Any otie may see that in this passage there are ftnaiiy Mgh-
bounding words, but n great lack of reasonintf and iud^ent.
A principle however is to be discovered in i^ the ap|uieatiosi of
which, althottgh likely to prodnce many and serious eirors^ wiH
hIbo originate an infinite number of b^autiesi The French poet
is desirous, and certainly no one will totally oppose hla with, that
every thing should be susceptible of being treated of in tiie
drama; that the fancy of the dramatic poet should know Oo other
limits than those of creation itself; and he.affirms that an obserr-

ance of thi» rule would be productive of soaaething reall; graud.
Now k appears to us that Viclor Hugo has by no means followi^
his own dictuoii for he has in most iustanees either not been able
or wMling to see things except on one side, and ihat one certainly
not the most beautiful, the most noble^ or the most generous.
Where is to be found in his drama that grandeur of which he
speaks in so grave a strain? It is true that here and there is to
be found a scene not only beautiful but most beautiAil; but this
will not be much wondered at by those who inflect that he baa
thrown off all reslrainti broken through every law» and that con*
sequeotly a wist field iiea before him for the indulg^oe of his
^uacyi Every obstede being removed* and every difficulty over*
f»m^> a -few scattered beauties caa no loiter be considered as
wondierful in one< who would really deserve the name of a geniin^
if he knew how to ccmfioe his fimcy within proper bounds.
. The :abo>ve observatioDs will perhaps eaable us to determine*
whether Victor Hugb is or is not .to be considered as so great
and surprising' a writer as some have st^poaed him to be; thfii
more so as he appears to depart from the principles hitherto
most generally respected and observed« especially among p<4ite
and cultivated nations. For instance, of the following, which.
m99' Aow be considered as fundamental axioms, v'm all men are
bpotberSf ta whatsoever aatioii they may belong— ^men should not
itojure and oppress, but love and cherish eadb other — no nation
or people can be stigmatised as wicked and cowardly, since
man's nature is mixed up of good and evil-— of these and such*
like moral axioms, Hugo appears to be entirely ignorant ; and he
therefore considers himself justified in abusing every nation, ex*
cepting the French, but especially, and we know not from what
motive, the Italians* It was first in his '^ Cromwell/' and next
in bia " Lucrezia Borgia" that he launched out into his abuse of
ItaliaBs in general, and of Neapolitans in particular in bis '^ Mary
Tudor." Will it be necessary for us to bring forward quotations 7
We apprehend not.

All we have to say in conclusion is, that the author of ** Mary
Tudor'' does not appear to us, either in the tragedy before us or
in tbe greater part of his other productions, to have fulfilled the
du^ or . attbmed the end whitih we conoeive is to be expected
froiii'tbe dramatic poeti or whiok should oonatitute his chief sti*
itofilus and highest smbitioa; that the |]^th he pursues^ though
oeoasJonaUy strewed with flowers^ is decidedly a wroiig one; and
that, thonj^ one of momentary brilUaney, his will not prove a
kating fune. ;

».'

,*i ' ^ \r. :\..l i\;:u^\\. 4i*8^;^if LiVi ^' i'Jfii.K

Joseph . U^Rmd »cyiii^ti.iks:^ wi A ^S^mndii^rigmi) 'tjp:4^f»n.

iSii«m¥fir after' 4ife 4lMt dit«bKabitMni4ni t)ii8'!«te»A7>6f^if^
. ' i«M)felil'^biiMty tttfrf exdMi^ly 464lioiil6(t (oi^imiltfMiif^tlie^ Bnliih

Upon tliat occa8ioiiMWii''tobk'tt «ime^'4ilitteiidbt\ljde^

Laii^i/toiitedai) A«y itKmfi|efioehiOi4«euii|U«^ . ip .ihkf^/fnffiot

' tfeMj^ weiaN Hdt'ftt preiMii/ (^ fbuw^ikt <v^ ikirioa% ltlMljrtto''fae
eti^ied"; Turntfig iE(Way;> rti«^p^m^ frOm-lli^'^Dtfriiffgr^lMd'^r

' turi^Aal iKsqaisYtioW; aM eOiiflniWgcdiksy i^it; ahd^'ifito^'dMtir-
sive thoughts, to the matter immediately befoiie ^irsi; W6' %hM

(-fb0g^' ^yflayH«).».fefly .wo7|l9.a|; ouiijfpdfifyr yf^^ifi^ri ii»|i^Pi4td to
.fiavei.|roiiW^^tQ.tiir.iitii4er} w<«ii ww»bay».forg^tfii»:iu V.,;,, ,,^, ..

ali.ottf Q$tT«4ts wiy)9ti^ki^>.whikt<)CMii<&i W4^ec^<[ R^%irvfd,

. '.'. itke .it«)fiki of MaffeiiM: a pl^Mpg iWiMf^ ^. Abf ¥rbol^,f^ XMKaii

..UtemtMBQi frpfOiits 69ximB%tjmfi fi9 ^^ }^ Qf,,th0,^i»|t,fe|}M»7.

.Tbe aytiior».'wb^ iSr.Xti^liAn.prpfe^PfMr a( Municj^. )}^,/?pfp'pmis^d

ioto.ft.AiMUl^nifaM t)ie.fiOlice9 cwtaine44nJtto.YW(Hi^(l^pn

. kiatorimf At4 biogiviphers; Ciorm^ni ^nd i%oiu ^f^J^M^tM' :: .

i Xlf < Ah0 '.pros^nt^ cf|i||U9^*Qf imhif^'we tJgu^ \ sppte lIptMMfMfJldrw 9^6
.^ «ihciuU>arQtaiUy>bwrQ«(pii9'A^^4 i^ is

iMMit.ilffstoi-qiomilcw^dj^ft^imm^ ^M^fes

the way^ shows cts,U||||l.«9^,jhoiiM Mv^ liai^jl^iWfV^^
vA|nnp<»flj fi\ lcPi>p ftny prnpnrfinn beiiveea the quautitics of mat-

' * ' »^toeyowlpi4>i<rttrtyns»kwf, Vd. II.p^ 11. •

Maffei'5 Uis0ri/E:tif Italian LUeraturt. 469

ter contained in the different Yolinnes. But Ugoni's continuation
W not yet ffppieoreili ^teMy Mr^ lb«^\8^Mtiie^ oMasoiM-Wkiitis^r
tbey-mi^be be, tHat e^ginttlly-MlplMilefict^^'his^^^^ <^We>are,

tberefore, nowv faih to ciilitent ouf^tve»'^^Uh- M»fife^
voluine;' ^ichtMhg the Clis&y We mui/tlB^aAi'^n^Mriiat'iiibre at
■lftrj|e of himiidruild'tlye'geAeral«tiara<^er-^df his W^^ "<•

Uiuflebpe'MAffev^w4 le^rii^'fyoi*tuini«)f,'t»i^liattvdio# the
Itiiiao 'i yiH)), and-n CetalimAbaU.^^u odd* coinbiiiarieta of
litlftsv.io £QeU9h.a|9prahff)aiMt^Hiirjitjb tmt^ ;lil^rpi9idigiiitm'0nd
lmil)l'af9iafMilion& to hi9 Mme,4bto^v«.]M^,tHl4i«fV0^ tMiiwfid,

oltitr bigb oiBSQeai be ,b4ld ilb^t.^fi;fMf)c0pt9rtiri.;(4iJU^qi^oiu>ni^e

rOfeeoe. ^Toitfabiyoi^Ail mQilM<)bLM^<%i^<teiU«!lt^lkll#tpf!^|nt
mw; mdt efilai9«di edition ^ofJii^Hi^tpry'iitfiitillMiiiJb^
ili.bj^ ikd|W«ilioft .Am i«*ini«Ap«^hifti}e}(|tecjjMiMlfe{of/<^^

Ol)M9.4i^loid(»i9r.0re»C9mdJi#';literayir^oi'':^Tj3o jc/'i r.nij'l

Iktfgimgie, I Witnessed tfr^ ikA ^ii^'#fatcfi<^tf1e>{iHl^ ft7'tlU^^^^

ifMsb 70a ttliliftlllt«d'(b0 im^fi^itdlurfMfl' dtf i|hil^>bik4fry<ttfi|]«ll^ Mto

Ovrmati. . . ..* w WlMiii]idutiiiiid'bfUfae>|myCBrtifpiafl^^

bHen by the Mtrifei:ai'S1xy|ininv't)iKVbQtmM^

Aca^ciMfee M N*pl«* % Pope* jn^^ Dow^i it^Q.JSnaf ^\ ^^e^acay.lhe

W npw open tQ jou. ...;.„.. ,.,.^,. ^.,j ^^,., ,.. ^^, . ,j ,,^,,„ ^,

*'H^itig aii^eady bmtA^ thi« ' b<^kuo be a imumif whtfnf \ni «hkll
have added that h ii de«igtied fk^P to^diracl'ihe^cMrse 6t*f4md^
iti)gof tfa^ l^MHet lit Itatimi; tbM «o^ itltnrMi^iHld' fei«lt^<ille cVitical
taateof ^ Ifaiten schi^lai'/n^d trQ'<dtiy rtyfCh^r-^thtftUt* ia^^tdttifr-
^«ft 'di7, th<e t^i^iticism Ktrtie ntl>oitn^/> and tlM4>ibgMi)|ittioal)>dr*
ttfdtt generally too ^bprt to i>e Mt^r^tfia^f >FitMii thw lbiit>een-
Biii^« howefer, we fliiiy ekeept tfao|0 Itallin clabMcs<)#ilb ^if^se
lives few persons, who ai^ not abaMMe't5i*Oi»*#v'JcalEiAiii4itenititre,
are unacquairrted, as Datite^ P«lnii^oby Ai9<o^O(<^M>nbaif!ndigkt7
compeers. But let us not be n'l^dterslobd i^ meatifn^'aUdgedier to
colodemn Mafi«t'# book. To the notioer it'Witl'^al^nil'Miiliidi
u^efbl infdrmatlon, Asides teathing>4|ifn <¥rherb^««i iB«eiUtfii6re.
1\> tlie ItaliM iM^av; \^4io'fa^ not rQiMind<e' to^ dbdoiilitat'U^-
bbschi'i mmettffatSf o^er^irfetttaaiamfel' vfi^tmBp ktifikk, >*«wire-
ofer, only t^iM' ddwn^lo Ihe i»n«t^f tl»ef Wiii ^wwmf^-^mill
recai and systeiliatise hisdesuHefry'kitowlM^e^^ « ^

* That this work h well calcniftted to nntmtt thtae wiHs, «t >cttH» ■ccm» »e Iw the ge«
neiml opinion, if wf we lp judg^ jfc>y tfa»i jii<y|HM.iy»<yait»iap<l in a note, that '* ten
VOL. XVII. NO. ^XXIV. ^ ' GG

436 •Mftffei*^ Shtory of Italian JUlenfhirfr.

' We have hitherto spokeny be it observed, onl^of die firif three
iKjlirmes. The last stands upon very different ground with m-
•pect to its cidtms upon our attention. But we hove iHrt ;e!
quite done with its predecessors.

' There is one thing ^vhicfaj we frankly confess^ niftrvdhHiiljr
conciliates our favour towards the Cavaiiere Abate mA im 'vo-
lumes, somewhat dull though they be. It te, that be does Ml
adopt the new-fangled notion, started by a few modem Italita
critics, respecting the great early poets of Italy and their aeiiloty
effissiotis. As this neo^critical fancy may not h^f and indeed ec
hope is not, known to all readers, we must inform them thatue
iillude to an hypothesis representing the loves of these pdenn Co
be not -merely a little fantastical, which we ^te witliajg to aHo^,
but actually and altogether allegorical, typifying, or» to speAk
more correctly, mystifying — what, think you, courteofus Hsader?
iveither more nor less than Protestantism, if such an iinachmimm
in the use of the word be allowable. Thus do the§e critics con-
vert Dante's Bice, Boccaccio's Fiametta, and, yet more onttage-
eualy, Petrarch's Laura, to omit ladicis of less note, iata se arany
WHiiart, or, at the least, prosopopeias of the spirit of vetigtoilt
leform ; and they further assert the evep-recurring ^ord esisr
to be tout bonnemeht the anagram of Rima.

Now, as Maflei neither adopts nor rebuts this whimsical theory
— by the by we are net quite sure whether it had beeii bItMtebed
when his first three volumes were published — ^it might seem
hardly fair in us to delay our account of his book in order to
discuss it; nor 'will we do so, althoughi having mentidoed the
subject, we cannot refrain from adding two remarks whriehappesr
to us to be pretty strong, we will not say decisive, against it« We
'Will, bewever, do this as concisely as may be, and basten to oar
-proper and present business.

The first of these remarks is, that most of those ezttfpoeU
held the beautiful Italian language cheap, considering it as a
.vulgar tongue, unfit to be employed upon any loftier or graver
topic than love, or some such light matter as might be adapted
«f6 the capacity of woman, unacquainted with any other than the
said vulgar, commonly called her mother, tongue. It was otAj
.the grand and daring genius, the master-mind of Dsttte, tbfet
•conceived the bold and happy idea of embodying in 6Ab de-
spised vulgar tongue the wildest, noblest, sublimest, the most
'andlM^ions as well as the most exalted, conceptions of the mu^-
His rivals and immediate succe^ssors, when they meant to treat of

^ editions (pirated we conceive) have been published and told in different parts of 1^7'

* and that the periodicals of Ital^, France, Germany, and even ]^ngiand, have coocvred

* in its praises*

M«ffei'« Buiory of Italiau lAteratuH. 481

•erioiM or important theoies* bad recourse to Latin; and it was
lapoft bis now forgotten Latin poem, '^ Africa^* not upon bis
eaqmsite Italian lyrics, tbat Petrarch relied for an immortality of
fame. Nor was this an individual mistake of the poet* as is
j>roved by the fact» tbat it was as the autlior of *^ Afrka^^ not as
she Italian lyrist, that Petrarch was crowned in the Capitol. Is
it then likely that these same men should have written serioiitiv
of religious abuses, religiaus reform, except in Latin, although
tbegr might and did — ^seemiugly without fear of consequences*
einee without any sort of caution or disguise — laugh in Italian at
Ibe vices of the mooks? And with respect to Dante* whose
veneration for Latin was less exclusive* be, as a profesied Ob^
Mliae* attacked the Popes* very irreverently placing many of
itboB in the various bolge (or divisions of the abyss) of fak
Infemo, in plain Italian: why then should he mask any other
portion of his anti-papal* or* more properly* his Ghibeliinf * opi-
nions under what the advocates of this notion call gergo,.AngUci
alaog?

Our second remark relates to the supposed anagram. One of
Petrarch's principal charges against the Popes is* that they had
forsaken Rome for Avignon; and be repeatedly exerted all the
powers of his eloquence* in prose and rhymci to recal them to
what he esteemed the natural site of the Papal See. Is this cir-
cumstance reooncileable with the anagrammatical hypothesis* ac-
cording to which* Afnor — Roma — is spoken of as the seat of all
the abuses and abominations of Popery ?

Proceed we now to the especial subject of this article* namely*
Signor Maffei's fourth volume* the dry conciseness of which we
shall occasionally endeavour to relieve or enliven, by introducing
a few specimens of poetry, of which our author is singularly
sparing* or, when practicable, referring to the criticisms of the
German lecturer upon the belles-lettres of the nineteenth century,
whose opinions of our modern English poets are already known
to our readers — we mean Professor WolfF*^

The first point that strikes us on opening this volume is a little
discouraging; for* though it professes to give us the literary his-
tory of Italy during the first thirty-two years of the current
nineteenth century* Mafiei omits, or, as he tells us* designedly
avoidsy saying a word of any author who still breathes the vital
. air* Now* although such a course must always have been dis*
• appointing, there, was a time when we could have understood
such forbearance^ a time when all gentlemen* meu of letters
included* were somewhat toucbily sensitive to the voice of re-

• See For. Quor. Rev. Vol. XV. p. 347.

G o2

4St VIM^Vt&ii$^^>^'liaiMfk1ii^tMhM

«^ rettUy^caMibi eoriceH^ m^ aUAoraV'^tio^tire'liiMir/Jilte eetL
vts^ t«ii Mif)^ 8klsMie<r«Uvfr, ay, ^addtMefcl^^ dUve' btti'^jr'tfsitsM
^ro^sitoiiAl literary Xfftibmn^iii^' the ii^vi^if^liB/^filMlWxiibti'hs
hit\f %i crHiouefd afid a^t^mt^ in i|ihiifofy<dr'tU<^1iltenitttM»df
emk ^uaWfy; *t4 in Tfav^ls^F^^tie1Hkl|g^;>br06f&Hltto tit' fifetOM:

ephemeral excitement, whell''tte^b^si;!;|tk^HhQ<i^Miff ibth^ Ae
politics, dfiil»ei(p«9l>iy^ifjlM^f)t»^lbMg^rlth^)il^ beeo,

gives us biography and criticism appertainiiig^ in reality ptl^er to
the last than to the present generUio6^ '''Hroy'^Alf "the a^^
and philosophers of vidbfi(li>f<t«p4|<sak)Sa^seD^ less

Er6al di&covfiries ^Keri bpar the di^^^ of th^ fof^efy^^^^

volume, did it not occur to us iiiat. at |Uie inoment ot itf,piip|icikr
uon. tndse authors and pnilosophersr misht still, fliougn .well-
sfriOKen m year^,,pe' denizens of this sublunary spheffe. r -, -,

also for a little amusins gossip Teiative to tiie, admired aiilhors —
ani when a.>yas cjey ,il.,t w^ fooj^'pc^ in ,»iiin. w.^,^((|tt mow jW

nie?«8 jn,n(er«tj}^. ,-T,^e fist,, ot, 1.4^

,W'.?,<??.%"yy or ,tt.e Iwt., coi^iaius,. ^a^iODj^l Wn>W ^itl^fi. j>wpifp

to learn .the 0611110119 of flie cri|)cs of their oviyu-fioiintrv.f, . ^ ;
. _I his list coliUins-T-lo tollbw the order adoBied. for ihe, nine*
. teenth century^ by our historian oilneratuvif^if^ijfb i^u^.^i^

rc^tUi ]l4QfQi9?r, Pignolfi, Ewgo; (rfjjJ^MkJ^sMb Cp*^rvSjrirti<;Oi
Qpissi 1* i>^ hiatprianA CuQc^t. lipif^nwWi, [t^fn|Dij,,lVI(en^tti j
Qf wri|0rs uppi*.litfMrWu,i«i.?(od. U^ *?«>,, Gwniafl^b, SigfweUi,

ere not a'lUue siLrprfised: ana if- the, Uaiiaii
in we ; af^ about w name ^re not quite as cel^*

did edit ai9npunf^Qi^.:fJl^U,.%9F.V/»CiPfH^Wtfcy.^|ii 1^^^

tlwala rather haVc placed ihtm anioiiglhe men ofscicncc or the wiitcrs up^i^Ml^ffVfVhjl

434 Maffei'f History of Italian Meratur4. *

names in literature though not in science^ a sufficient mioiber of
Italian literati and philosophers obligingly died between the years
1800 and ]S33* to give Maffei's Tourth volume a value io the
eyes of the general reader as well as of the critic. The greater
number of those we have named must, however* rest content at
our hands with the preceding enumeration. Few thinga could
be more wearisome to reader or writer than the appending ta
each name the few lines specifying the' author's works, the tioie
and place of his birth and death, &c. &c., for which alone: w^
could afford room (of many we find little more in Maffai)* Mid
which would, moreover, prevent our speaking more at hurge of
any. We shall, therefore, at once make our Gong6 to the mat*
jority, and select for more particular notice a few in whom we
take a particular interest, and whom Maffei has likewise honoured
with more detailed biography and criticism. The first of these
shall be the universally admired poet Vincenzo Monti, of whom
Maffei says —

. '' Viocenzo Monti was bom on the 19th of Febniary, 1754, at Alfon-
sina in the territory of Ravenna ; which place his father, FedeleMoatiy
presently quitted for Fusignauo, a wealthy town of Romagna, and Uie
native place of the renowned musician Cordlt. At an emiy age,
•Vincenzo was sent to the excellent seminary of Fataza, where he made
such proficiency in the Latin language, that he, not loglortonsly, wvMc
Latin verses; be even improrktd with the utmost fervour of poetic in-
spiration. But his judicious instractor dissnaded Mm from Inereosmg
the number of extemporaneous bards, whose lays resemble the flash Ifaaft
lightens and passes without leaving a permanent trace befaiad It. The
first fruits of the well-meditated writing to which young Meoftt nosr
devoted himself were elegant elegies ; these he published, and tbey
were highly pi^ed by the Abate Girolamo Ferri, a distinguished Latittiat
of the last century.

*' Having acquired the elements of learning and poetry, Monti vras
sent to the University of Ferrara, in which city his family soon after
settled. Like Ovid, Petrarch, and Tasso, he was compelled by his fatber
to study the law; and, like them, be threw aside the volumes 6f Justtniao
to devour, by night and by day, those of Horace, Virgil, and the
celebrated Italians. Instead of frequenting the tribunals, and mai
law-suits, he devoted his whole soul to poetry. • • • •

*' His ^vision of Ezekiel, conceived and written at the eady age of
sixteen, in praise of a celebrated preacher, proves tltat from the very
beginning of his career he took a lofty Bight, disdaining tlie servile imi-
tation of any model. Cardinal Borghese, Legate of Ferrara, took the
young poet, whose rare genius be had discovered, under his protection ;
and, when his term of government expired, invited his protege to accom*

• So uian^ have since foltowed to the grave, that we may begin to look forwsnl l« •
iSfdi volome of the Diod<:m dead*

Mafi^i'^ Sisiary of Italian Litcraiur^* 43^

poBy him to Rome. Id ^Iwt meUopelw of Cbristendoiiij the poet, who
w«a iK>w tvHsaif-^fQQT ye^n of age, formed an intimate frienasbip with
the most learoed of arcbaiologists, Enoio Quirino Visconti^ with whom
be studied* and learned to understand the most recondite beauties of the
classics,

•* By these and other poems be bad risen ihto great fame. » « •
The arrivBl of the illustrious tragie bard of Asti at RoEiie fint led Monti
to tty the buslcln. Alfieri bad recited bis Firgima in the sdoonof Mam
FtezeOi, in wbieb the ikmer of the literati ^en at Pome were wont IQ
imwttubla. The young poet was so infloeoeed by this recitati9a« thatt
Qtpon bis ratum hot^fit Ytcollecting the deed of Ariitodemos, which be
bM Jatelf i^d in Fausanias, he conoeived the design of his first tragedy^
which be i:api(ily completed, and published under the title of Aiistodtmo,

m * « * * « * '

" AncHber tragedy, Qaleotto Manfredi, tbllowed, but proved less suc-
cessfnl than the former, which was now upon all lips^ and was even the
cause that a young lady of great beauty and learning gave the author her
band in marriage* Monti had conceived a great reverence for the Cavaliere
GioTBoni Pikler, so celebrated for his cameos, who, to the great grief of
^l good men^ and the serious detriment of the arts, had recently died.
J^DoVFieg that the deceased had left a daughter, the poet, without having;
evea seen ber^ expressed a desire to obtain her as his wife ^ and she»
eqaaUy unacquainted with his personal appearance, accepted his propov
•dbb beoaasc be was tlie author of Aristodemo.

" The tragical death of Hugues Basseville, who, being sent to Rooi^
tb^r^ io propagate the maxims of the French revolution, was cruelly
mMsaorecl by the infuriated populace, on the 13th of January, 1793, gevve
Monti occasion to write the poem to which he owes his chief fame. We
sb^l presently see that the BasseviiUcaia wrought a happy revolution iii
Itidian poetry, revived the study of Dante, and restored to the place of
boDOur a rdbust and sublime style."

. The remainder of Monti's life is not sufficiently creditable to
the influence of poetry upon the character to tempt us to give it
thus in detail. It will be enough to say that, after having shown
himself in the Basseviltiana a decided champion of monarchy, and
aa iovetenite enemy to the French revolutionary principles, —
Momif courted and flattered by the revolutionary warriors of France^
and by the revolutionary civil functionaries of northern Jtaly, be*
came the panesyrist, in fact the poet laureat, of all the various forms
bf republicanism that successively governed the conquered and
revolutionized portions of the Ausonian peninsula ; and, upon the
fall of the last of these^ of Napoleon Buonaparte, Emperor of
France and King of Italy,*— of all his arbitrary measures, unjust
wars, and other acts as repugnant at least to freedom as to lawful
•overeignty. Monti likewise accepted various mpre prosaic ^osts,
the chief of which were those of Secretary to the Cisalpine Re^

public, &nid <'Hiiitdrttom-«^Ver W'4Ai«Mt^f(l/'^'^#M«h«» sMflfiilid
achicTieni^nUiof'^'e ^8\!'mtoiSiti,^!6f'l!lk'9:ii^'ii^*vhg.
in various poemCv^mi'n0mi^m^Wei>i* fHimSBiall
rival».; Mho could niit «mala W'^te m^fiM\,ur

tup^fwl— roust vv:^8a3;?^i;^t,, fe

and w« ffwiiy b^bdvie^ >uli%;>t»7iimr-.iiKip«{«HlQMM^
aftd ilUreguialed qiiclgineiit ntCuKallJcinlbe ;pt^ticntcift|iitfi|aMtifU
At aU events^ n it sdrne comfort to kitow thbt M^nti UoBe
more steady as lie atkiince^'tti'«^i!«(lklQAM^fhdi;)\)p4sl#fW ^m4
paiiAdJl $cixnmBU ]iix>ntBfrtoniuDtcfaick({frdcn tlw(ifi)UeBrH>bjdbt
of his admiration ta4iis;«or^nBA pD3KeUSdkr«f:>AiHlr^iQgil^i&ky/''
bot, after •NapOlMii^7al>v«r|b]K))il for)^«4E»0g:9QUtif$l()^4^l|ctP|iioc-
cUjncd hiniaetf cMe% Withi ltijK4dDifa'abler>lcaiia)Mi^^ ib^rUadt*
wbich M«fi%i' Goiiaidtni' -as^^dle irbr^'idnt avilodiBmlbrtaAiaBnbiim.
Affsur^4ly r& iranisiate if6fif0r'U<^l( can>ta«e9^'to«iici}E3fNrW^i''
bttt ire— W))a i|^ay pe^haj3is be db^€fwhat<^ftelitfibd%>' fttfdAll
uport stichinattcfs^murt say, that x^'<fittAf^et^\^'4b^
clothing lit appropriate poetic 'ptiVas^lfHfe^ ihiiSM£rk^^^,^M ,
imagery, of jinothpr asia. r^af l^t of i^mtis^^ ''

g^iw.. m 9|M^I^ere|pr? W'^.l^J^i^'fifftri.Jffl^^nsolBjpfl^ ipii
tl^ l^lian J|wvl,;^iid: ^r^,t», big fiF^t»Wfftl9B^W##^^
Mfbich wfe; «re toW ^hftfe^iglUflw s^lttpo^^.w^ JJ<wfeH»(f%«Wn<^
But we must first state thot^iMooti^iedsiHkii^nl^iQclPM^
18«B,^^f5ter;.iwpvar4^.pf^MfP:;i}WrS)^

'^Oii ^oooasioQ 9£4br.litigia»lKkft iUgnfif<iliiil^93l9ft>(fr^Mt)ng
iiythe Fr«n«h r§r9ltlV»on,,iU^.^m^gjiiMtjqp fiiU^f^ Blfre^tfi^iAlf** ?«*►.
earring Panp, th?i?e ix*^!^ ^PM'P^l^i^^A.f^Mantj^^^^
all >wU, p p^wiFed-.t^t, ^h^«^^f'•e,.y»^m\^^^^
history ojiost wqr^by : that tbey offered ^naterials for the soblimest ron*
ceptions, in wbicb the raigntiest passions suouid play iBefr stately nari:
But serfotia dilficiihics embarrassed' ilie choice c/f l^l^^oiSi'iM^ maSAl^
ill which to'descrthe sodh trefnendotii evehtd; * "'^ r^u-un iill .-.- P. .'

*^ Dadle, the'^haty|^v"^ctittt 6rthe!^etioto»«iy4{ j]fiftti»«&^t^Nl^dlilii
his dny^fill^ iitily Wii wounds 'itfi4;bbitU^tl4<lttd^uti«ii<9i!<cif«dl»«otei
thttioihorroi^ t» thd to^attontaf {xoterityiiatel toitHlde v»djgi^ted zeV/
TcngS'UfxNi ihe TitiqiqMn«tBO0ii^br.kadb«ntshedJiH^ »»djfiwpffflM«ik<tOi'

H«.thfrffQf^.f^gPfd,>itjwfppy ^^rg^lj the^th^gft rflfjfoiifttt<tSfriofld.i
pl|if5eib»^,r?ceaavj[J^5q^s • • • '

Mi^/^»?M'beir
Farad i8e> where h)e prepare

".Mttotii d«aig«ingi liU bi«^ m^vi^r, ^o.:pi|if4 h]ppiU7|i«c;|ieiwiact|oi>s
cnieky> iiWeteriite> bati^edsv tiodieservod e^ecotloASw icM^toed fihat.theaout
of B^setAle; hatiTfg inr the liiHt^iyinemsbf 'hire jK^eino&laMi«i'ibrM»
crimes by penitence, is condemned to witness ttie ^}lires'ltod'Hiltffi^flttgs

For

im|iieiy/^btffrpii<gl0cglqt tb^nubltesiiiitli Ifaebloodio^ tUicimpltadBdr.
1 in'ichk dplnbb iafito>idosef<kiiitation'o£'DaBteT!b3r BAontiyf

Hi fl I ihm ibriwUEnni ibebaare )nfak: tl^ Jik&) Ibe ecvor ffblnt aodi crtfiirfr^Q^//
Vi^{^ fipd!tbo0(VQirslaiQ»rf 9O^,8btiokH[»g^0k)9e«^ ^/.ISi^^li^ti^/lift^-^li^i

Fj
line

mmiii^^dPiW flne^ {>ll^giEii i^tte attMi^ftb^'^lidlslJali (Parish di th^v
mdfiftoi'i(i^tb^'dDlblihiMae4^}Hg'^^iiel^ ^>>;- M:> i^.Kf j^v t^M

stanzas; — and before doing so we must remark^ that we^tbilitt^it'^

ghon I^tf by 'art ange!' to' iikdM'^ttiia ci^iWies artd stiflSeHiigs •??; '

surely; dWfciteiit frorti i' Hying rtianl^d bV 6rte;gh<M^^

gli^sts Va/Ttffe past crimes. AVe ipust nice wise, fidd artpthei^'re-'

n^qrJc (uefatQrj Xo^iqW extractj^ ui justice to tW.uoqf^

selves. His metre, the Terxia nwa^orj^tan^sas oftbr^qjiijiea >yj^ii^;

ukp\^ ifilefI«iki9dtfhyiM95P4i,,p9i(^liar)jf I^Uan.m^a^ri^as )perhaps

aa^p«8liUarijfi.FepugiMlit.tq,tb«.geiim» Af^/GMU* Jwguftg^ MdipQlfftryv*

We fa«vet#ver ibdiid it th6rtncm| tuioiiHiagBiiblel oi^jtb9>iiifiri04Mi;

mdderti ^mesi^u^M ^hkbv mfevie^mpfcnnBign |iqet^^^ kaf .b^ett/

our tdt tb (Tflftslfal^ ;'^y«ftyfnMn ttte Mi!$<e' ahn6*riiTv«rnibi^^^^^

wilh

cd

verse

the skilful maiitgeaMNit of the stanraiiidl ibfiw is^Mi^eitefilial
iMftuty^ that H^ prefer, in this case as in most ^lh«rrr JawHiing at
we best can the metre of the original. - '"-

** Hell had been vanquished in the hattb foughl ^
The spirit of tb'dbyss in salko mood
Withdrew, his ffichtful talons eiotohhag oongM^ - ' '

He aaared like non ^saiithing for IM ;
Th'Btemal ht blaspfaemed, and aa ha ied i

hood kdssed aronnd his bimvtbo snaky hsoDd«

Then timidly each opening {iinion'Spread *^ /.

The soul of.Basnaiiit,.an hair Ufelo looky 1 1 ti.n ..
Released Gram memb^ with bis hearths blood i«d» *

Then on the mortal pri&oo,jasi forsocft,
Tbe 80ul turned sudden bsQk to gaze awhile, \

And, still mistrustful, stUI In terror shook. ' >" '

But tbe bless'd angel, with a heaVMy wMb;
Cheering the soul it bad been Us to win * '<'

In dreadfal battle waged 'gainst demon vile,

Said^ ' Welcome happy spirit to thy kin. >

Welcome unto that comply, ^r and tHmve^' 1

To whom in Heaven remitted is eadisiB^ ' -

Fear not ; tbou art not doomed to sip ^a waffO' vv -i
Of black Avernus, wbioh who tostesi resigned : - ^

All hope of change, becomes the demon^ davaj ^ -: I

But Heav'n^ fai^ justice, nor in mer^ Uindi
Nor in saifeiily sentpulous to goage . . a

Each blot, each wrinkle^ of thefaaman mtad^ -

Has written on the adamantine page ;i. •.:*!/!

That thou no joyaof Paradiae may si know
Till punished im of Fraace the guilty mge^ ^'«. /

Meanwhile the woundsi Ih'immensity of woe»> . i

That thou hast hdned to wntki thon, penitent,
Contemplating wiui tears^ o*er earth omst go :

Tby sentence that thine eyea be rpwetess bcait ' !

Upon flagitious Franoe, of whose oflfence . f

The stench pollutes the very firmament.**

We proceed to the. arrival in Paris, which we take t^ be the
acme of the poor ghost's (xurgatorial punishment* . . 1 1

«• Wond'ring the spirit sees that fhora the cyes^ *' ''
Of his angelic leader tears have gushed, », •.'

Whilst o^cr the t?ity streets dtead silence lies. ■ * " '•'

Hpshed is the sacred ebime of bells, and bushed ,. , -?
The works of day, bushed every various sound
Of creaking saw, of metal hammer-crushed.

There fears and whisperings alone arc found.
Questionings, looks mistrustful, di^cotitciit, " * •' •" J*' '
I>ark inelaacholy that tbe heart must woundi • * « . -

.. , AcQCiita^of Qootbersj who, forebodiog Ul« .

Clasp to their bosoms each loved ionocent;

Accents of wives, who, ev'n on the door's siU
Strive their impetuous husbands to detain i
With tears ana fond entreaties urging sCiil.

But nuptial love and tenderness in vain
May strive, too strong ibe powers of Hell, I woes ;
They free the consort whom fond arMs enchain.

For now, in dance ferocioas and obscene^
Are flitting busily fron door to door,
A phantom band of beari-appalling mtm*

rhantana of ancient Druids^ steeped in gon^
Are these, who still nefarioaaly athirst
Fpr blood of wretched victims, as of yore>

To Paris throng to revel on the worst
Of all the crimes, whose magnitude has fed
The pride of their posterity accurst.

With hdmaaKfe their garments are dyed red,
Andj Uood and rottemiess frmaa every hair
Dripping, a lanthsome shoWev around them ahed«

Some firebrands, otbera seourgea, iasa T the air>
Twisted of cvary kind of coiUog saake^
Some sacrificial knivesi some. poison bear«

Firebranda and samnta they o'er mortaia sbaket
And, as the blow sdaghta on biow, neck« side,
Boils in each vein the blood, fierce passions

Then from their bdoaca like a hiUowy tide
Men rush enfrenzicd, find^ from every braaat
Banished, shrinks Pity waepingt terrified.

Now the earth quivers^ trampled and oppi
By wheels, by het of hones and of men;
The air in hollow moans speaks its unrest ;

Like distant thander's lOar, acaree within kcn»
Like the koarae monnura of the midoi^t ewge^
Like uorth wind nnhiag from its far-^deiu

« « • • #

Through the dark crowds that round the scaflMd flock
The monarch see with look and gait Appear
That might to toft compassion melt a rock ;

Melt rocks, from hardest flint draw pity's tear, v
But not from Gallic tigers : to what fatCp
Mobsters, have ye brought him who loved you dear T*

This may suffice as a specimen of the poem that is generally
regarded as Monti's master-piece. Of his other works we ihall say
but little. In Italy his dramas enjoy a splendid reputation, but
the much admired Jmioiemo is to us actually revolting from the
nature of the autfject, (for which we refer the reader to PMSft-

m , .

nias,) or ratli^i: rr<m<lli€:^atin0r'i«<tYiffatfliiO<r|if^
dwelling upon, and appearing to revel in. Us most diagiftiig
features. In Galeotto Manfredi we mu«9|(ijM^rt)(At'../MS||l^*s
virago-jealousy and ManCredia yadllating, weiikil«a8.4UMU>Iai0Qr
mind, more comic tliaa tragicj — 'm iheirxliai|Bctdr^\i^(aierii — cbs»
taioly not in the very murdanouf catastrdp^e^iibali thgey-pwiute.
Caio Graccho f\ea%eB mike beat, bi«t «vel»'*lbi9 <Mijgbbptl«t W,
we therefore prefer taking cmr dramatic' eiti^t^fr!6ilte^'^dl^
poet, of whom we shaM now speak. \ • '^^'^ }'^. =^»'^, ^" 'i'^

Ippolito Pindemonte isj we believe; fiaV |%;;;^|»|^Pm
Monti on the continent/ nieaiiing the tran^l|)j^^^
continent ;— Wolff hardly names him;*^|^dt] i^'ouf^^m^^
he is far more poetical; and lie>)ifJ5'^ina|C^^
attempt (Iiappier tlian ManzoniV) to ^^Jtithf^Ml^^f^I^^^l^^^
modern tragedy. M.or$^^» \)^ Jidt^ilMiiaMisfiBtglitatK^
tbat Italian critica donoj^ vihry.miiokiUffiN-^rb««iW8^itt[diflqtll«tt
esttoitatioa of ibis.janthor, of .'wh^n^ ^Mafiti^av)^*^ • • > .20^^^? ^/<.'

" IfltalyhasfOflferedouf age anew Banteih fflto ue.may m»st
a new Petrarch 4^ ^b^ €avalter^ f pfkiil^i flHHJilii^i^^^^^ is the

sweetness, such the pensive haf riioyiyv^thfat^rel^7jp|(f& ^i&i^ • • • He
and Monti are a glorious pair-^two HlftStf)^i''4l[lte&.^#W^ be

severed in a history of oufHteftttiirei ; :". : f ^"*f * ^^" !'^^f

" Ippolito l>ffidemo»te, a tcmxti^'tc tHM^^wM mflmf; Veronese
family, was born in Verona, Novettfbi»-*fS/M J^5il '^Bfii^i^ the elc-
mauts of kantttng at the CoUcge U tbe/bli^tl,^f{MkMniiliItel9bi8
Latin and • Italian ; veifse^, ' and •hia -jBUH?fioittfabiattsl^teiiMiiiolM|lgMly
(cavallensche), procured for his picture .tl)e infCinp(io)||.j/(jgj^^Q||ffnl ia
letters and in arais.'' ^uch pompons eulqgtes Ai4x!!^!>7^f^|I%mnf
them. Girolamo Poropel taught him Gr^k^ in.hia^a^^^.pC.ifj^f^
often forgot thq ladles who were wailing for hhn:a|^4h^t|^atr^ilftAte

danc^. . . . . •-, ' ' ' In-iUMi r, ,bdnoqq«j

" In his twenty-fourth year he mad^,a pilgirimagf ^^rot|gb[j^jtj«Bl
crossed the Straits to visit Sicily ;w^hcev,ffl^i\gr^9^nJ^
Knight of St. John of Jerusalem, went ''on board pfi'SlfU^JN JQ4
OMef, to sfcfvt Ms noviciate. Bat he did ntff, Itimre^y ^^S^ !"'
favoarite'st^dles* .-, ... 'Retutning to T«rona, hi tffenV tMiriiW^
a c<mntn^ H£e. . . /. From !788 to179<(^'h^MV«flida*IIMHtW^iKl^
land; €crnany^ FiHaee,i>Uallttnd^aud'!Et)^hitf(ll^tV«9liy»V Mniif^}<M
a9s«^ed*witb,rUii3 mp»t/ra«ailra^i|i«i:A)ai^ea^
nianyof bis poem^- i •!«'« tii i.i ,., , .'.toi.v.iiJfi3 adT .noilDS aJ*

" In the y€»^J7MMx^^i>f^Ji^,lli\^M^
to avoid tberevotulftpjiary hwrtp^ei, wAM'^r*kPWIKIk#re!btlM WWW«

c6utitiy amtdst lict ilrrdes kivl perils.'^l)unn£ iF^^^^^

«wcbre e^pltfhfrctl inosl of Ws ^drks. V' ;■. i'v'f .?^™ (ft^filuioo « l^

Odyssey occupied thirteen yi^ak^, ahd Si^^ iiAiy%6iMUiteB'p^^^

This excellent translation is/ we 9U8pe<?t/Rj^' ^51^5^9^^^

MafbiVifiilOJry ft/i/a^NM lAktMHrt. :441

KiiiiMuMlteBii being Ah9> coiipkil • with M^mi bjr our historian of

-^^^^iMfo^wInl^ PMemoiUe ittw death ragibg itround him, robbing him
tt^liii'tftMittt wiliMoirdtltinMiftltfed Iri^iHh. Their fos8 deeply grieved
kin^ - U&«dr'/* I ougldito be«atUfied>ttUb tny1o«;'I havb possessed
ibfPlipffifoqyi; pfwiediuft.brmigpt yaiiUiy tnnKlWd^wiib great pleasfttre,
^f);(^0%i^jno.gfe9i«a)am^ie». C^ .only innfectuae hfts afflicted
u^jf^futii^i^ifG iR|pjc> »m^-Tthf»t I k^^ »WQ well, nigh all my frieoda
drop on one by one, and most of.tbepo in (he pdme^of Jife.* , Finally

dan-

creat

the

_ Phw'Sttiiltb God';'' AHVeroni rfttepied his obsequies, and all

MaKflf^lj^MbliHied^hifrlbk^; : i ; " ' ' - '^ V'
^fitfjOii'kipMbigfil'tJitanielof Pfittde^^ we immediately drscover that
«aftUpiithiii<^i»innBtra(^!ciiBtaoler whith glMs a |)ei^lld^ eolourtng io
bis verses. . » • . U«;WM«boM all. gsioved atseBingthe tnotmuieiits'of
the arts carried beycuod the, Alas. Hence tbe fQllowing Imea :-r-

oil I ,/:fJ^axm,)yI^oa<^ pencils ^

^d JonnF a5;?f^»^ la*0Mif?.l^ deUcaMU ,
Upon the livine canvas ligat.Ai

I ■ I

Vfn^' .

ng canvas lig)^,A^4.sli#« -,
o,oaoWI ,#fi^ yj^bat.Mw^.8ira^«W^A^^^^^^

sid^^/ii ^i&oQf biB^lfiigedyt^r jirmtHo that' we pnoroose to take
fM^ptfclnm>ef^Pk)detnoht)§^0'geniu9/ Of this piedeMaffiei says':

"i tf'^lVw^Wdf'ivW'tli^ btrrdihe 'had gatfier^'d iiV l^ric and didactic
f9fmfl^Jfm\^l^H^^ihmt i^ol\'^d tb attempt the buskin, find pub-
Mtliftf'^e'^fiM^ Which: C^sarotl! ranks atnongse the finest Italian
^kA^''' ld'ft''ii4find^d adihlre cbaracter^ well Conceived and well
supported, a natural and vivid dialogue, choruses dictated by a fertile
^hiu^'Aii W6otie6i iiy]e^ ' But a Want 6f tragic enthusiasm prevented
l^irtb's'i^ikg 'Itiib c^%ni^ as ft' tragedian?'

'^^vK^^ y/k neecT only. .add that theaubj^^^ of the.tra**

fijfiffffl^^Gt:^^^ for biasiutOFy 0i/er Varna* who fell in

M^H^pUo wdfiehiinaelf kinl^asjneltiidnedbyTaeitau; andlhat
lb^9pilli «f lHMtb,iDfttQr«Uy'fin4i<^9te'phitfe/ tobeatiom^^^^p^ in
the action. The catastrophe, as in moat ItatittVi tragedies, is
tW4>19mqMt(> TOiVativ«v<a^d p^haj^s thb^ntodt dratnatic scene is
wni^ ^yAdk''fiM6^; \!ke wn of At^^^ and a somewhat rude
IjM^I&^'dlA OeKhan fiberij^y afif^r vainly endeavbi^^ing to dissuade
hi$^mH^ iVoiti bid ' ambitious purpose, kjib biniself ^i hia pre-
iijpd^^'to| $vp^ ^<?i^(^ that father a lipg. .,! But tliis acene ia tiyi
iong'tOc^'^trac^ aqd,qBr;<^98rrWe die^^^^ ita.^fiEect^ we wilK
^erelofe, rather take^part of an argnmei^tative diirioaue^ whichi wc
lfliHk^]^'6w(ilWI anii doc(uent, between Airminius andnis daughter's

4M MdflU*^ iififtofy 4fjtdum LilmtMi.

betrothad lover, Tbelgtstes, who may be deamb^ M aii dider,
more cultivated^ and more enlightened, as well as mortf^polMed,
Balldur. Tbelgaatet, who is recMtlj itdvrned fvom til
to Rome, thus addresses his intemled fMbei^jft-lirvr. ' '^

^ With grief and wonder do 1 hear it marmttred,
That, for thy native land, whose liberty . . , j * / /. ..
Was erst thy glonr, thou art weaving cnahii— ^ '
Ay, that the ever-nated name of king .^
To thee than other names now sweeter sounds*

• « « IT - «

Arminm* I fought with Varus, —
And so I fought that since/ in haughty Rome, *
Ev*n lisping infants of Arminius speak, , .

New leaders crossed the Rhine. XVhether f lay ' \
Inactive in the shade is known to aU,
And known that, when Seeestes moved his CatK .
To join the Romans, 1 — aloeit in vain —
My young wife sent to change her sirens resolv<^ ; '
And turned mine arms, that day, alas ! unhlest.
Against that sire, though in his hands remained
Tbnsneldis, who in chains was sent to Rome,
To my how frenzied grief thou know'st. Thence j[adge
Whether of mine affectionsi fervid alt.
My country's love be least. The gods more fsToared
My wars against the powerful Maroboduus,
Who fled for shelter to the Marcomans. i

Why did I, like a sudden tempest, burst
Upon his head ? No king the Suevi brooked.
But for a king if the Cheruscans feel
Eager desire, and it be freedom's right
At pleasure to appoint a single chief.
Shall I oppose their wishes? Is their choice.
In me a crime ? * * *

Thelgastes. The nation Is not then by thee seduced ?
Granted. But if the nation rush towVds ruin
In madness, call you him his country's friend '
. Its coarse who stays not ? Dazzled oy thy ligh^
More baneful as more splendid, to thy hands
Its all the nation trusts. Utochangeably
Wilt tbou remain the same ? I know Arminius
The leader, but Arminius sovereign,

Arminius free to act his will, I know n<>t.

• ' • • »

Behold*st thou here those idle arts, the pride.
The boast of Italy ? Those studies deep
That enervate the spirit, or those scrolls,
Learnedly written, that teach men to fear ?
. Let Italy declaim on virtue's laws ;
To prattise them is oure. Our arts, our sports,
Are siiU the bow, the race, to OTerJeap

• <

Mtffei'i kifio^ hfJi^KdH LiienUHtl 4M

Tlie hsghew Asms, to «wiA tlie mgtiesl MMalii^

Ami'ki'liie Arduous clitee "wtuj Ibc woodi. '

Rome moiikis ber own divinities, whicb» sculpluf^d

In gold or marble, she no longer dreads.

That chisel, which, profanely diligent^

Id stone embodies I/eity, we know not.

Wc think not in a fragile temple*^ walls

The heav*nly powers t' enclose. But who so cold

That^ midst the forest's .venerable horrors,

Or o*er the torrent's depths, feels not the God !

Observe our dwellings; separato, dispersed,

Lowly, unpolished^ unadorned by aught

Save innocence. But what I The empty name

Of Germans will alone henceforth be ours.

Where thrones arise, life cannot long remain .

Simple, austere, easily satisfied.

Then palaces and squares we shall possess.

And cities boast, although no citizens.

In quarried stones, unconsciously combmed,

That proud and honoured name dMS not reside. .

It is the union of according wilfs,

And laws, whose justice corbs man*8 wilfulness,

That form the gennine city.

Armin, Of thine experience I would ask^ If useful
Of thousand lawgivers the slow assembling
Thou jodge, when rapidly should peace or war
Be in just balance weighed ? And I would ask,
Can warlike science thrive, where each armed man
On all decides ?

TkeL We've one sufficient science.

Armin, What is it ?

Thel. To dare all, and nothing fear*

Armin, I touch not that*

Thel. He wounds it mortal^

Who robs the warrior of the freeman's rights.

« ♦ ♦ 9 ^

Armin. Must we then meet as enemies? Velanthis* —
Is she a bond of insufficient force
Our union to preserve ?

Thel. Barbarian^ cease !

With deadly wounds thine accents pierce my heart.
To my fond suit, when thou didst promise her.
Thou wast Arminius stilt. Wherefore sot then
Confess that to thy soul a fame so pUrej
So real, grew distastefuH • • •
Too terrible the battle we must fight,
Thou with Velanthis armed^ with virtue I.

* The name of Anainhift's daaghter, the promised bride ofHitigaslei.

444 Mafferi kitlfdVy o/Iluim^tAVf^ithi^.

Ob yet respect tbysalf I The huHa^f I|g1it . . " '
Investing thee quench not with thine oWto h^tAt

I i

'i»«

To this we must add» as a ^pecimeii of Pindetobhte's lyric
powers, a chorus; and, though sotne readers may ^i|dL that the
subject of the modern P^trarth ought to be 1ov«^ we ^ball select
one that appears to us peculiarly and happily' characteristic, in
which the elder bards lament Uieir inability to j^ke jpart in the
battle that decides Armioius's fate,

CHORUS. . {'.

. .In us the martial jDame is fadipg;

I*

Feeble our arnis^ qur steps are slow ;
Midst \^lood and death, our brethren aidti^' '/ -^
No longer IS it ours to |;o. \\

nastJiARD. ' " *

'»ii

Alas ! how swift hat flown

That brightly happy a^^
When with my foioe alone . . i

I woke the battle's rage 1
I, who reclined in shady mead, . i

Can now but shig the bero^ deed*

Then did this good right hand

Oft lay the harp aside,
Tograsp the deadly brand }

This band, which can bat glide u >*

Now languidly, with (atUag sktll«
O'er choHs scaiee anewerhig to My will.

Like the swelling wrath df a moantain riter '
That bounds, in the pride of its consdous fiower.

So fiercely from heigfit to height
* That to dust the thundering waters shivefi
Then aloft rebound as a silvery sbowtr.

Was my rushing in youth to the figbt«

But now, little heeding

Mine earlier force.
My foot is receding,

And years in their course -^

Scatter snows o'er my head.

Though now broadly sweeping,

The Rhine tfans shall wane, >

And through swampe foeUy creeping.

Scarce ling'riogiy gala
Of old OcMv the bed.

SRCOKO BAaO.

Life's latter days are desolate and drear ;
'* ' 'Man, wretched man, in eariy youth must die.

Or tee thft,twiA enclp^e:^! UiJ^lip rflw. . ,

i'lf^s V^brfu is W a- Vi^le qF miserv, ,
WBere £he'poor wanclerer scarcely hopes to gala

:,.!.- i:, ;PefP ^J9pP« Rl^»<^»^0 f^^*^*°»Pft<«V by Jay ^ . .
. .rhereiad(;s a consort, there a child hes slam.

J A grave hb evQry step yawns irt my way,

•*^ •'* ^^''*Aotf' Sine- iiicaii«m« fdot Tramples tin bones •

Of friends and kindredj linJteniDg to^ietfy; ' '

And kinsmen turn to foes ! Oh hearts* than stones
More hard ! throw, tl^row th6$e inurdVous speaks aside.
Whose sligl^test blows call forth your country*s groans !

BuL i£ this brothei's battle must be tried, ^
May TOeiTom^s cause with victory be crowned ?
Or underground these hoary locks abide,

Ere I in fetters f^,X!ff .country bound !

THIR0.'BAft9>

What deeds of high empijae . . ;

Did my youth's comnHtes share ! . • '/
Feats of such lofty guisb, ;

In later days are mre.
Ah those were gaUmt bttltfes^' TbttQ ' '
Were fierce encount^rp^ ^^iMIy blows ! >

Strong arms and hearts of ,flMiie>

These rival chiefs dia|4«gr} ' . ^

But the Cheruscas iiailie

Declines from (lay tqday I ^

And vainly- ahoiyM we .hope iO:'view,
The son Us £ulUr's fapic^rpuiew.

Btttdv'ii the bravest:«ian» ,

Thotrgh high midst beioes ^aoed| . . :
Would scarce oHileaihia spitn

Of life, liy bttrd iiDgi^eedl ;
Nor would tbestrangeajs.earnr^ eje *
Ask where the honoured ashes liet. , •■• w ,

The dazzling sun at eve,

When sinking in the sea, • > i /

No lasting track can leave < r. . '

Of radiance on the lea-.^ > >, • .>.,.'
Such were the proud«f^ herd's, ff|te^.. ,..., : . i
Prolonged not verse UiiSi,|floiy*$^(l^c|, .J. .. ,' j.

'. ym^a»'. . ^'r ?• h •^.

In us the martial flame i|«i|fi4k|0t'\ni^ rn .^^.

Feeble our arms, our ste(p9(j^re sl^ii * < - >
Midst blood and death our brethren aiding.

No longer is it ours <o*go.^**

Ugo Foscolo^ of course, holds a high rank in the eateem of the

VOL, XVII. NO. XXXIV, HH

44fi Maffei*f History of Italian Ziteraturt.

Italian as also of the German critic; and gladly should we ex^ct
their eulogies of an author whom we personally knew^ and whose
merits we always fully appreciated, even whilst the strange ano-
maly of his wild appearance^ and yet wilder impetuosity of man-
ner, in the aristocratically calm atmosphere of a Londou drawing-
room, and of a drawing-room variegated and enlivened by the
brilliancy of many a star, literary or artistic, called to our lipt a
smile that no sense of decorum could repress. But poor Fos-
colo's literary merits and faults, as well as his history, have already
been so amply discussed in our pages,^ that, although we are not
to be restrained by every slight notice of an author that may have
previously appeared therein, we can only recur to him en passant.
Leaving this remarkable man, therefore, we shall now, ere we
quit the field of poetry, exhibit our individual superiority over
the Italian critics, in a qualitv in which it is the continental
fashion to hold all Britons deficient, viz. gallantry, by immediately
paying our respects to the ladies whom Maffei relegates to a
page or two of his penultimate chapter. Here again, however,
and for the reasons already alleged, we can extract only what he
says of the most remarkable.

'' Diodata Saluzzo Roero, in a poem entitled Ifpam, sang the extra-
ordinary woman bearing that name, (Anglie^ Hypatta,) who cultivated
pbilosopby and mathematics at Alexandrian and died a Christian noArtyr.
In her poem Signora Saluzzo developed all the doctriixes that were ia
those days known and taught, expounding the dogmas of thia Magi, the
Flatonists, the Stoics, the Eleatic^, the Epicureans, the Pyrrfaonists, the
Eclectics *y the secret opinions of the Egyptian priests, with the ceremo-
nies of Isis ; and finally celebrating the dogmas and precepts of Chris-
tianity, whilst passing sentence upon the various heresies that had then

ansen."

Need we add a word of this lady's more ordinary productions,
t. e. novels, or rather tales, the proper English for the Italian
novelli?

Eleonora Fonseca Pimentel, during the epbemefal existence of
the Parthenopean republic, adopted the profeaaion* unusual to her
sex, of a newspaper writer; and upon the fall of the republic,
we are told —

" This lady, graced with every species of learning, and yet more with
virtue, praised and even beloved by Mctastasio, was sentenced, as the
writer of the Monitor e Napoletano, to lose her life on the gallows erected
on the Piazza di Mercato, {AngHci Che market-place.) When summoned
to execution, she asked for her coifee, which she drank, and then walked
forth with the mien of one superior to misfortune. Upon reaching the
fatal spot, she began speaking to the people ; but the executioners, fear-
ing that a disturbance migbt be thus excited, with their cords put an end
at once to her eloquent discourse and her life.**

• See Foreign Quarterly Review, vol. y. p. 3S5, and vol. ii. p. SIS.

Maffbi*5 History of Italian Literature. 447

Again we afe inclined to give a specimen not taken from
Maffei. We happen to have met M'ith the works of Teresa
Albarelli Vordoni, of whom our author says —

'' Her Sermoni (satires) in blank verse, her Capituli (epistles) in terza
rima, and her Sonnets^ have received the hearty praises of joiirnalists and
critics, and gained her a distinguished place amongst the most celebrated
Italian poetesses."

Now, as we think satire almost as unusual a female pursuit as
newspaper writing, our specimen shall exhibit the playful femi-
nine manner in which this lady wields the unfeminine lash. She
begins her satires as follows : —

'* Behold December come^ bringing short days.
And evenings never-ending, dedicate

To sweet vohiptuous delights^ — or yawns.

« « « «

Alone, beside the blazing hearth, I sit,
Mine elbow on my knee, upon one hand
My chin supported, in a gentle doze.
Whilst ever and anon with t'other hand
I grasp the tongs or shovel, and the ftre
Alternately heap up« arrange, or stir; —
Truly a jocund life."

Our fair satirist then tells us that her husband, as a remedy for
this listless condition, suggested that she should write; that she
caught at the idea, but hesitated what style to attempt, when he,
after some discussioUji proposed satire.

" Ay, but as Goni could, dare I assail

The thousand poets of our tuneful days ?

May I proclaim how those, in poetry

Who know but sound and metre, yet aspire

To the Castalian founts sprinkling themselves.

From Delia Cruscan bolter, with cant words

Of Tuscan obsolete, or toss and chum

Their half-filled heads? « And who art thou >' they'll ask -,

' What wondrous proof of wisdom hast thou giv n.

That thou as our preceptress shouldst stand forth.

Thus sputtering sentences?' A different theme,

The battling of the learned, let me choose.

Haste we on these new gladiators' stage.

To view the bloody fight, unwearying,

That entertains the literary mob.

Serving no further. But should I aver

That Criticism, high Genius' mother, once

Had docile sons, who thankfully obeyed

HerpreceptSj knowing such the surest means

To prosper in the service of the muse j

But that her living sons, now of ripe age,

RH 2

< •

,44B Maifei's Ektorif vf lialia,nJ.Herq^urf.

Horst tbp maternal bondage, frownipg fiprcc . j- ; |/
Co wlioso dares reprove ; — or dui-st I add ' ' ^
That slighted molheri Wisdom's consort erst, ' \

* . No\f a (fivorccd and lawless wanton, yields
To each licentions paramour's embrace;
"Wbetice now her speeth no taste of rea^n knoffs'J
' • '' ' ' That for her fions, unnatVally, she spr««^ •'' •"

A board with poison franght^ by Envyslmodf— ' ••.«»' -.
• £nvy^ who, eon beiKind die sepalchre, * '« . 'iw •'/)>«'
M; ..> , Pursues whoever 18 renowned' as. gpreaAf-rn-. I, < : iHi..--
,1 , . WiU't no^ be said,.^ A womau^s pertoefs |^, .^ ..\\ . i ..
., ., ,,, She ^cwce.has skinn^ed two Tolume«, yfrt prpsnuv?^ « , -^ 't.i
'^,^ ^ «^ .. To ceneuie censprs! Wretched smatterex;<! , . ...„,,, .7
1 Better of caps awl ribbons migttst tlwu judge,' .? , . , .

.^(i4 laif^:e]blra(f frpm bai- S^rmane of La VM^^giafurai^^s^^iLr
^WMug'^l^ait himlleggiatum is ^be proper .t^rm fpr. th0;,.^MupnsJ
▼(Bl;y»|l>rifffifi9it:M>. th/B coUAtry^ which, ev^iy X^^ia»aiihaitetsi«(^f »
tp^Htiwho.^Af miy pr^t^naioa to ,ba e^te^med f9^sbiQp^})le»:iiiiu$t

" They who but in imagination own ' ln\..i\ m :..ir.''«"

;,. ,„,^,,,. .; JVlace or. country-seat, at others* cost .. ,, ^^ ^^j^
„..-i v.. Nr..(^"st rurauze. I sjjare the general rage
lj,,,,,,l}Vprlavill€ggiatura.^ Where to go V

<A /^fitehkknfale watering-^ptaoe', M*kh medir^l hot baths^,' beijiqi' fixed
.«r|«ili/<M»rpo*tewrihw pToceedB:*-- :"n,;; :,.i;f... •

•'' •^•'Xet'sgo. Job-niati, thoii Shalt hate dooMeftrt",/ V*' <^ '
' ■ ^ '! ' ' ' But be the conch coramodiousi Thife g^y iffetob' " '"''
•'" • Of summer, sacred to delight, disdains' '"" ' " "" -

^'■'•^fl

t .. .

«-<

(.!».)•/.

t«' .'I,

To harbour thoughts of base ecotiomy.

With ca$kets^ trunl^s, and band-boxes, the cdacb

"]' ' J% loaded, placed the Servant and the dog.

'>:

I ' ' t* t f

The husband too. Th* impaticrit job-m^' stalWjps. ' '
Ytn ready. We are off! The city streets ''.'/'
Slowly ive roH along : delicate nerves \"'*^

^' ' May not endure their bustle. As we go, ' ''''

Glances o'er every passenger mine eye,

* ' ^ ' ' ''; ' * Seeking, distinguishing, *rtiongst vulgar crowds, " '. ' /
" ■ '• Soii^e one of better sort, who'may repdrt - ' ^^i. » ?•

"' '' • Thdt I, no whit inferior to the rest ' "" : .' '"^^ '

:!"" <3f FaAion's world— I, fitted to excite

• ' ' • ♦ EnVy ih others^go amongst the sick ' » ^ • i >' ■ r - . •

'.V. t.jl' Ja ^iMV^b of joy-> Thus w^tating, I ,. ,J. ^,i i

tnu\) . ' fr^™ town depart; and, when of whips ^ndrwbeels. j,.„,.
.• , f, I hear the rattle, to the window snrinff. , r

1 Un my superiors pomp admuMnc gaze.

Or, with complacent pity, on the poor.

We now turn back to the prose writers, philosophers, &c.

Maflfei's tiisltn/ o/Italimi iileixtinri, 44^

^'honi MaiTei places next io (he pods. Of these Irie wise the
number, we scarcely' need remind the reader, is so large, that we
must again content ourselves with selecting a couple from the
mass. Our own individual taste would naturally lead us to seek
one of theci« in the class of historiand, and the other in that of
speculators in political or legisUtivQ theories. But \\ie find no
historian of sufficient ctlebrity to warrant tbe aeteoiion; and
indeed we must observe^ that Vtncenso Cuoco^ tbe beafi of those
here named, although his Saggio Storico snUa Rivoluzione di
fiapoli (Historical Essay upon the Neapolitan Revolution) be
highly praised by Maffei, who even gives an abstract of it, is,
nevertheless^ , at least as much valued for his Pfatone' in Italia
^Plato in Italy), a philbsophico-historical romance; as fbr his his-
f^i^ df th^ rtd^a^d fall of the shoit-lived P^Vthehd^il^i«|>ilfallic.
^Tid^Merb'we must pause to ob^rre, thfat this Pteld 'i^'lMy^,
aMi<d^h- Very much modelled upon tiie i!ibb^ Bdnh^teMffb
Fo^^gBdkJeune AnucfHanis (Travels of the y<yui)g^riAriai4Ai4)<fs^,
i8'wereist)oken of as "^n histoinc novel, analogous C0tbd^^'o<|'4Mr
Walter Scott and his school; whereupon Maffei iiHr t|dtkli6fei %b^
following remarks : — >« / i i ■

'' Having to speak of the Platone iii Italia, ati bist'brlco-ppilosopbical
romance, we must needs say something of diis spectes of composition,
which has risen to such fame, and gained Walter Scott ioM Manzoni
9aekl ce&abrity.' * # # • Wtd tlimktbehtstdncjiovelaitiidniaraiiU4i^vike
for making known the life and wri(ii>g$<of aoyiremark^^e^^porsfVi^,
or any obscure perkxl of history. Tbe author of / Viaggt dt Petrarca
(Petrarch's Travels), by puuing this illustrious Italian in< motion, depict-
ing him in the most bnlliaot epochs of his Jifc, elucidating, the history
of tbe times in which be lived, and introducing him in tqq ac^ of writing
those very epistles that, under the title of Familiar, of Se^le, and of
without title, have so lon^ lain dusty and neglected in the^ ponderous
volumes of tbe 3asle edition, has, in our opinion, rendered ^ signal ser-
vice to literature. There is but one fault jn the book that ]y9 could wish
to see corrected — it is the making Petraj'ch /speak,. when,>thc words
ascribed to him are not upon record as having actually be^o spoken by

him. . u ' .

" Any supposed danger of mingling truth and $ctio^ may be avoided
by accuracy in quotation. It is thus Uiat Manzoi^i gwes.no^ice when he
speaks as a novelist, and when as au historian. * * ,* ( W.e ponfess it is
by consulting the books. to which this writer r^fm.tha^^ehf^ve become
thoroughly acquainted witha^jE)]storic^\( epoqn p^e^iq^iiHy^PftR^^^^ ^^ ^'*"

On these very curioils bpinions we shall dtiljf 6b9ei^> that we
cannot allow' Plato In Italy, or Peti'arch's Tfave!^, tttiVinore than
the Travels of Anacharsis, to rank as historic noVel*^^ although
we have no other title ready concocted for i^c(]oi>s^ designed
merely as vehicles for the exposition of philosophical systema and

450 Maffei'j HiUory qf Italian Literature.

political phenomena; a species of fictioQ which we dislike as
much afl we delight in the true Waverley and Ivaahoe g^ous;
perhaps from a suspicion that it is treating us like childr«p, sweet*
ening the edge of the cup by a title-page announcing « novels to
cheat us into swallowing the black dose of abstract reasonings
when perhaps^ for the express purpose of refreshing ouraelves
after such laborious abstract reasonings we hadj a» wo thought,
opened a work of imagination*

But to return to the business of selection^ from which Signor
Maffei's views of tlie historic novel have diverted us. With re-
spect to the political*philosophy class — of Gioja^ whom we would
fain have made our second choice, on account of the qrighialitjral
lea«t of some of his legislative ideas upon the subject of rewards
ajid punishments, our author actually tells us nothing bejond the
titles of his principal works, thus altogether ibiiing our idiosyn-
cratic inclinations. Under these circumstances, we bare no
rjssource but to submit, and write of the men amongst those
upon whom Maffei has bestowed more notice, who have moat dis*
languished themselves, although in matters less congenial with
our own peculiar tastes ; and the names we select shall be those
of Viscoiiti the antiquary, and of him who has conferred upon
physical science an instrument, the immense power of which,
however highly valued, is still, we suspect, very imperfectly appie*
cia^d — still, in fact, incalculable; need we add, of Voltai

We begin, following Maffei's order, witli the antiquary, who
seems to have been one of the rare instances of an infant prodigy
who lived to verify, in riper years, the promise of his childhood*

*' Amongst the erudite of our age, pre-eminent, giant-like, stands
Ennio Quirino Visconii, prince of modern archaiologists, a very pmdigy
of learning, and of critical acumen in judging the monumeuts of antiqatiy,
ip distinguishing the genuine from tbe spuriousj who raised the dignity
of antiquarian science by combining it with tbe study of tbe arts and <2
tl^e ancient classics. He was born in Rome, on the 30tb of Ocioberi
1751, tbe son of Giambattista Visconti, Prefetto (we confess our igno-
rance whether wc should translate this old Latin official title, Prefect,
President, or Guardian) of Roman Antiquities. So early did Ennio dis-
cover the singular perspicacity of his intellect, that, at the age of a year
and a half, he was perfectly acquainted with the alphabet ; and, being
unable as yet to articulate the liquids and consonants, would point them
out with his tiny finger in any book shown to htm* At two years of age
he distinguished on medals the effigies of all the emperors firom Jolias
Caesar to Gallienas. At three years and a half be read both Latin and
Greek ; at ten be displayed, in a public examination, a tboroagfa know*
ledge of geography, history, chronology, numismatics, and geometry; aad
at twelve, in a more formal and solemn examination, he solved tba most
abstruse problems in trigonometry, analysis, and the diflerentialcalculus«"

Mafici'^ History of Italian Literature. 451

At thirteen, this modern admirable Crichton translated the
Hecuba of Euripides^ and the Odes of Pindar ; to which last he
appended u critical essay upon the great Greek lyrist, the mode
in which he should be tninslatedy the modern metre best adapted
thereto, &c. Sec. But the discovery of Pompeii» then yet recent^
iivhich revived the declining interest in Herculaneum— together
iiritb the concomitant or consequent excavations and explorations .
for antiquities in and about Rome — probably decided the pursuit
to which his after-life was dedicated. In 1782* Ennio rather
undertook for his father, than assisted him in, the letter-press des-
tined to accompany and elucidate the engravings of the splendid
Museo Pio-Clenientino; and, upon that father's death in i7B4,
the superintendence of, and responsibility for, the entire work
devolved upon the son. This occupation did not, however, by
srtiy means absorb the whole of Visconti's time or attention; every
kntique discovered, every museum collected by native or foreigner
— statues, medals, tombs, inscriptions included — becomihg in
turn the objects of his powers of investigation, explanation, appre-
ciation, ana description. To enumerate all these various antiqua-
rian labours, as we find them in Maffei, would be too long for
our space; it could, moreover, be interesting only to professed
antiquaries, and ihey, of course, are well acquainted with the feats
of this their distinguished colleague. But we must not omit wiiat
may show the peculiar character of Viscouti's archaiology; t. e.
that from some of these remains, to others unintelligible, he de-
rived the matter for a critical and historical essay upon pyro«
Oiancy, or prediction by fire. In fact, Visconti gave to pursuits,
ftiftually deemed frivolous, a tone of dignity, and raised them to a
atation which they have been little accustomed to enjoy, save in
those unenlightened times when all knovi'ledge is esteemed mar-
tc^llous. He himself has said :

" The science of the antiquary is not one of conjecture, but the fruit
of a judicious study of the classics— of a diligent combination and com-
parison of monuments — of a cultivated and unquestionable taste in the
fine arts^~of a profound knowledge of the usages, laws, religion, and
disposition of the ancients j a knowledge seldom unaccompanied by phi-
losophy."

Upon which Maflfei observes : —

*' All these various gifts were united In Visconti, who has treated
every difierent branch of archaiologic science ; whilst Buonarrotii Maffei,
Wmckelmann, and others were mostly contented with cultivating a
single branch. He knew the Greek and Latin classics by heart $ the
laxity of bis intellect equalled the immensity of his erudition ^ bis cri-
li«al skill severed not merely the false from the true, but the true from
the probable: exercising a just and convincing logic, he would, from
two acknowledged truths, educe a third with wonderful ease and cerlainty*

45^ Maflfbi'^ History 6/ baUm MeruiaviJ

fiens were brief^ allboBf^h he pMtcnaUttd wtiiertait nor
iKNuuncnt tbat migbt dear up liis- thesis ^ irheooB to bini was'^piioi
wbst Monlesquieo mid of Tacitiis, ^ He abcldgev all bqcause be soet'slli' "

»»»

Visconti's reputation sooq became Europew; imd
was any antique anywhere discovered^ that was not imniediat^ljr
subjected to his critical inspection, .».

*' The political storm growled around Visconti amidst bis pflwrifi^^-
dies. In ]797i General Berthier, at the head of a French arinv^ eiil^red
Rome, established there a temporary republican form of ffffexvii^BDXt
and at first appoiuted our archaioiogist minister for the Home DepartiQeDt,
tliea, one of the five who composed tb>e executive. 'AtHidsi Clie^Vi^of
^mJ9mA the raipiivie of the soldiet^, li0)dls|4ayed 'OfiiAn ittnicMioce^
siooi. a molute ftrmnesft not to liave bceo- iMltid|iatoA i&onrliie ) pboU^
mn of leilcrfri To an ambitloua inan> rapacious. 9fAvefiltb»«0d)bmo«fB^
be said InJdly, ' l40ok at the .Tartan rock;* >aa^l tba /Steal wc^b vbM>
b^iiepresse^ Ibe-turbnlenttt^d the facXious.jprovqk^tt^e Jlfap/iirc^/^
liana, a Milanese newspaper^ tq call him a ^Mi^ierate; a$ tkemji^ tlte
practice of a virtue could be matter of rq)roach. At Icngtli. lu^ was
obliged to resign his office, because^ the French commissioners' bairini^
presented to bim the plan of a decree dishonourable to Rome, lie hsdig-
nantly bade tbem seek elsewliere for destroyers of his country."

Visconti's 6rmn9Bs Uoesnot. fieainto have, iiyvred biiu itt<the
opinion of the Freticb masters of Italy^ for we find that,

" InBecembeiv 1799, he was naiued by the French goveraiBentone
of the managers^ with the title of superintendent^ of the musea«j then
forming in the Louvre. He was afterwards appointed profes^r of ar*
cliaiology, conservator of auiiqi^ities, f\nd a member of the • Institute*
All France rejoiced; and Miiliii and David saifl« ' Banio. QuirioQ i& the
finest conquest of tha French in Italy/ * ' * ^ ^

" Having thus obtained the ease and tranquillity essential to give the
scholar leisure to pursue his studies^ he continued to publish immoital
writings. * * * From a careful exann'natioQ of

the famous Dendara Zodiact he proved that, so far from datiog^ as- bad
been commonly supposed, one kundied and tkirly centmnes before the
Christian era, (thus invalidating the chronology of the BIblej) it mmi
have been executed between A. D. 12 and A.D. 132, • # •
Visconti*s opinion is now generally adopted by tbc learned*^.

Again, we omit the catalogue of Visconti's laboutx and >vrlL-
jDga, and pass to what Maffei calls *^ the greatest iiitimph^ tbe
most glorious moment of Visconti's life; his summons by the
Bnglisb parliament to pass judgment upoi]i tb^ j^artbenoo mar-
cHea*

We' need hardly state that the afntiquary was flattered by the
value for his judgment thus evinced, or that he was delighted by
the sight of these wonders of ancient art, of whiefa he haa aatd.

^^iTh&coDiliuisetav mhoi visk^ these soiilfhliUfici«iiirUet i iaiCertaifii tMihhi
lookkifAon jTottn^ of lbosB> precioii8< tvoirks. nfrhieh^ c«iceived.<and idtreoledkt
by PtuQiBS^ and in f>srt execoied by^bis-icbsAel, :oaDs(ifciiftec|>^liniig mj^^f
awards of seven centuries tbe wonder uf the ancient worlds and in )fln-
t«l*<«*riftn^ were Md ftiltoitable fo¥ grrfcctflid'b<»r!<y/f*' 'i«u> j-. /

In Fans he continued to prosecute his anliquariail studies, and
to Mrrite and publish their result, until the year 1818, when

r*^^On the 7tb of Pebruaiy, after long and severe sufferings^ ]ui)de^ wbjcl^
lie 'was "supported by bis beloved wife, bis two sons, imifalots of their.
ft[l!ter^s yirtOjEs, and many faithful friends, Visconti expired.'* , ' " '

„ Wj^ ivQfv iQ0l9'^ to Volta, with ^rhom we ^balliCQnplude-. Hev^i
oiftejof4)kfiilhiMrious iodividuals alfdfldy nie[tUQAe4 fasbekMigiiiy
iiaoFe,to>idie'e^lite6i4)h tiutn toUbenioetftenA'centUDfyiaml there*-'

OfliV6f'1hb»e'who have graced the *i5t thirty-t^o Vfefrt if' th^
latter;' But, as we do find him in the ^lutne iioW ttnd^Fi'i^tev^J
tlie Jirdfound respect we have long eiitertaihcd . fbt' tms ^w^
benefactor of science compels us to extract and, abstract^ (He }f^
fbri^ptipn hqein afforded respecting hini, wb^th,er,ai'^p),ac)^4..}^^

^^^* : ;• : ■ ..',•' .f >.' if..' (\ (iifU.n

** Alessandro Volta was bom at Como in tbe year ] 745,. of an illus-
fHiiilii^fMdiiyi^bl^W^ dfsiaugulsk^d tomigsr «fa« Gtymo'piiUidi^iv >^From
bis earliest I <y^ra.>)WsdUco9fev«(t an 'eager ineliniiuAon VbrilpbysicialiiAtid
chymical science, the prini:ipal phenomena of. wbi^j^i together wityb^^be
discoveries !n electricity, then in progress, lie developed fh alCsitin'^o^m,
ifa'At* slfn Vemaifis unpablished. But it w^ to the lattef subject tbUt lie
pHncfpli^y applied himself, and upon it be j^ubllsbed two'meboWs; tifie
otie'iti I76&, addressed to ?. Giovanni Be^cari a, ^be b'lber 4n Uyl;
addnftsseH to tbe Abate Spallanzabi. ♦ ' *! ' '"In ifonseqWeby'6f
these writings, Count Firniian^ tbed governor of Lomlbafdi^^ appcubted

" * Lord lllgin lias been so bitterly and generallj censured M E^moving those niar-
\>fck f^ofn' Athens,' that xve cannot refrain from here insertiiig Canova'sopiitron of thb
lM#;aS'we4Mdft recorded by Maffet, Who, in bH a<wouiiti^t()egi«Ht^<!^I^It^i't44l^iiS^
ii** SNiti.die bcnkvof the Seitie Ganova ttpaited iv tboN-qf itlie TifopM/iiit •rderj«l
l^i^'(Ojioa tbe f>irUioioii inarbl«», reaj^ctipg which bd'iirr^lUB a^. follows ^ f^ ft0»^
•n the iOih ol Novenber, t&L5i ' Permit m^,- ro^ Lord. tp. efipi:e^]^Qjr9i]^,D^Xj|dpj^^
at having beheld in London the precious ancient marbles which you have DrouSit
hither from Greece.' I cauDot satisfy myself with Wgaitr and ag^i ^ntigbif tti^ii^/and,
sliort as-mv stay in tliis capital is to ^» I consecrate every.possible miimte to tliocon*
t^p&^atfotrof thi^e celebrated relics of ancient- art. , I'adtoirc/iti ^liem Hutl^ 'tb^taiv,
ttittjol^dliWlfh the stkctioii of faeautiliil fbrras^ llA'.llieM cMfry<iliiitg'brfradbcMli(i;t|ah
^«)i(^lQ. dJstifiq^f as, wif h exquisite artificer, but . wij^pia, ,tlm {lc*l9}< ^^f^^^^i^Pi A^
pomp of art being .veiled with the most perfect mastery. The nude )s real Ana roMt
iMafatiftd tie%h. I esteem mvseff fortunate in having' beeh p4niift'tbdf id \c6myht^\ifc
with my own eyes these excellent performances, and should hold this sufficient w&eM^

thoaMod CDidlal tbttiktlot tbe acu'

454 Maffet's Rutory tf Italian tAittaiute.

bim Hi first regent of the schools of his country^ then professor t^fhj-
sieal science at Como^ whence, in 1 797) he wrs promoted to the swtie
chuir in the University of Pavia.**

We pass over Maffei's somewhat minutely detailed accoMil of
y oka's earlier researches^ discoveries* and inventions relatire to
electricity* hydrogen gas, and the liice, not becauii^ we e«loem
theo^, of slight merit or value, but because at the present day,
after the immense progress of physical scienqe* in great measure
through his instrumentality, and with the actual well-nigh uni*'
versal diffusion of knowledge, we conceive the progress of infor-
mation fifty or sixty years ago to be interesting only as matter of
history. We must state, however, that, at the time, the fruit of
Volta's labour was esteemed of such value,, that, upon his visiting
England in 179^* he received from the Royal Society a medal
Struck in honottr of his invention of an electricity condenser.
We now proceed at once to that wliich Volta's learned biogra-*
pker, Biot* has well termed

*• The great discovery of the development of electricity from the mu-
taal contact of bodies 5 a principle absolutely new and unsuspected,
virhich Volta^ through his consummate sagacity, discerned, which he
established by a series of experiments skitfallyand judiciously conducted,
and from which he deduced an application so happy and so extraordioarr,
that rtils is, if possible, a yet greater discovery than the very principle
ipbenee it is derived.'*

The manner of Volta's discovering this new and important
principle requires that the circumstances which led to it should be
briefly mentioned.

" Luigi Galvani, born at Bologna on the 9th of Septembers 1737)
dedicated himself to medical science, in which he made such proficiency
that he was named professor of anatomy to the renowned Bolognese
Scientific Institute (Jstituto delle Scienze), He especially practised the
ciiifficult art of experimenting judiciously. * * tn the

prosecution of bis experiments, it chanced that sotne skinned frogs lay
upon a table near the eonductor of an electrical marehine, and, one of the
experimentefs having accidentally touched the crural nerves, of one of the
frogs with the point of a knife, the muscles of the dead animirf moved
convulsively. Galvani, noting this pbeoomenpn, repeatedly • tried . ike
0Kperiiiieot, and believed that he had discovered a new species oi elec*
tricity, which he denominated animal. * * He main-

tained it to be an animal law, and the discovery to belong rather to
physiology than to any other branch of natural philosophy. But Volta
undertook to prove, by admirably conceived and executed experiments,
that this peculiar electricity was no other than the ordinary electricity,
produced or excited by the contact of the metals emplojred in the expe-
riment. ♦ * ♦

" Not only were the two Universities of Bologna and Pavia divided upon

Maffei*5 History of Italian Literaiure, i&i

ibis qussiiofi^ bat the wbole of soieotifie Europe took pari with eithev
GaWani or Volta* and ibis last, noabasbed by tbe great names eoroUed
amongst his adversaries, including that of HurobolfUy demonstrated be*
yood dispute that, so far from tbe electric fluid being generated by the
animal organization, it was merely a powerful stimulant, altogether ex-
tmneodslotbe nerves and purdy mstattic."

Maffet here enutnerates all the papers, pamphlets, &c. that
Voltd wrote in defence of his own theory and in opposition to
Otflvani^s ; and this it is right that Maffei should do, inasmuch as
he professes to write the history of the literature, not of the science,
of Italy. But for ourselves, who are bound by no such ties of
Qur own weaving, we care more for what the philosopher did, and
to that we turn.

*' Volta having ascertained by his experiments that this law of the
development of electricity by simple coiitact was not confined to the
metals; but applicable to all heterogeneous bodies, although in very dif-
ferent degrees of intensity, according to their several natures, availed
himself of this principle most ingeniously to construct a new apparatus,
which, through merely its immediate application, prodigiously increased
the effects produced. This apparatus is called the Voltaic piU^ or the
electric column, or still better, tbe electromotive apparatus; and is capa-
ble of exciting a continuous electric current through all conducting
bodies interposed between its poles; which current, being most potent
to combine and decompose, is of the utmost use to chymical science.'*

It was with this pile of Volta's invention, but magnified and
multiplied into a battery of intense, of even tremendous, power,
that our own illustrious countryman, Sir Humphrey Davy, de-
composed and reduced to their primitive elements the metals,
the gems, the earths, the gases, indicated the identity of electri*
city and magnetism,* cleared up innumerable errors, and, it may be
said, evolved the primitive elements of nature from their multifa-
rious combinations and modifications; — discoveries that have,
indeed, given a new character to physical science, and immor-
talized his own name, and of which the writer of this paper was
an admiring though unscientific spectator in the theatre of tbe
Royal Institution, — but discoveries which, however honourable to
tbe genius that conceived their possibility, and by admirably de-
vised and executed experiments elicited them from the bosom of
obscurity, must have remained unattainfable without the means
furnished by Volta. To him from this, surely not irrelevant,
digression we return.

" This portentous machine was first described by its inventor in a
French letter to Sir Joseph Banks, in which he shows the analogy be-
tween the new apparatus and the torpedo. * * And afterwards

* SiDCe w ably followed out and e&tabltsbcd by Mr. Faradaj*

456 Maffei'5 History of Italian Literature.

in a memoir upon * the identity of tbe electric with tbe Galnpic fiai^.

bis hy(>Dtli€8i8, having died on the 4th of Dee^mblei^ i79lfJ^ ^ Vl^^that
he, though eclebr«ted in the vohimc oq the * til6^edit& t^sntmtjI^^iiAnot
even see th«* ceniury'a <fewn*] ' » • » .• i-uii* *!i ; .^ <» l

*' France^ in some measure levered from >tbei iiest'jpfitii^ ip#orld>]i]R l>er
external wars, knew nothing of tbegreat^difoqifr^pl Vt^aj^yotil^iflDa-
parte had, in tbe year 1801, triumphed aiiew .pyi^r, jtfjy*; ^HfiS^i J^^
Volta summoned by tbe conqueror to Paris, where ne repeajte9 his. expe-
riments upon the tfevelopment of etemidtyl^ticriitacif,7|if'jpi^thi^ of i
Dtimerous commission from the sdeotl^ ^ss 5f ^AM* Miiii^<^deMkM
to witness «ifid judge them. The ex^trfmetitaaifdffli«i# btotdttMMite
peoeivcd with tb^admi ratios ttk8ydes)9rMd.i I '<:i //t^jj to ^tio ei Wh$
First Consul pvopi^ locoii&f agQU!ined|il;jQMil;f¥c4Nif90liipii4f^^
ii> iact, «trucK ip bi^ honour, bearing a bi^t i^.JWpprYft^i^^iWiWFi*^

legends. , j. ^ ♦'"'»'(" '''U'^' v ifjiii

" Electee) deputy to tbe Cornices of Lyons^.VcJlia }mAhi/fym
Seine for those of, tbe llbone. Again be returned '^itrfj^tt^
receive all tbe boilours and emoluments IviC^wiiieh'bii.n alive .Ya^ct
sought to guerddti bis merit. He was nkbe^"i^''lft5d^'w^^"tron
Ofc^n, a member of the Legi6n of Hdriout, ^ ^ria«ir;^'<eotthli^'*^^Altf^
the fall of tbe kingdom of Italy, the A^istriatr gov^MM§t>tl)^^ituii blm
director of the PhysiodfMaUieipatical Faovkiy pf^theC^ivbtltysdtiFbfiac
Iq.tbc last yeara of hia life Volta'a qiod «tt9ti_mfHdfElv3SQfttefite w
no longet; advaiioe.or e9i!ich bia favourite. dciei)CQ,,.tQnrAo 5|j|*ofiJ%0^l
1S27, be died, ^t the age of 82, lamented not:<}nly,%jr bi^ ^M <^?l9KVi
but by all Italy, by all Euippe/' ; ' / '[ Vv..! m -umfiii>

And here \^e take our leave c^r Mtfffel'i feNlt'^iInAt^")lffJMMh
thid pen without expi-^sding our eavilest wish that ti^^lltajtl:iy^lfi^fi^
hn sontpleB about' wntiug of tlios^e Avto rn^V^'A^paMe'Bf
reading hrs opinion t^' them ^ or, what ivouM l^'^dll^iiior^ ^lefetal'
\Aey tbatCaniillo Ugoni may gi^ as a lew ^oiHrveMbetr, icJdliid^
ing the Jiving Iheratare ofthi^aiheteemh'cenM*^;"-^ 'i\'- it-di j^h,

... ^Jli j.:i'j*-j jfl) '>ii; uii/.

I ' V

r

I
•'.'.•. .' ' •• »i • 'III .'V

. ( 457 )

»

Jiv,Tf.<iy^*''-r^hif^6^f^S''Stcizzen» aus Russland, der Turkei

.,,und.Griech0.n(aHd, ^worfKn-wakrend dei A^feutluiUs injenm

;. sJJindfrm.in den Jahre» 1833 utid 1834, von Legaiionsrath

Tietz. (Reminiscences of Russia^ Turkeyi aiid Greece,

• stetched during a residence in those countries in \SSt^ and

lSS4f, by Tietz, Councillor of Legation.) 2 vols. 12mo.

Cdburg a^d Leipzig} 1836.

Jtf! , giY<iQf(. some accouat of this work we shall take the same
fiQWw wiib ih^; aulbor» aad begin with Russia, because, notwitb-
slmBdiiig«U that haa beea .written onithat mighty empire, the aub«
jddt is one of daily increasing importsnoe, involving questions
dMt)l^'affeatiilg the future! destiiiies of the citilized world. With*
^t'trouMirig our readers ^if(h hulf a dozen pages of common-
place, which it would be as easy for us to write as unprofitable for
M^m id'read|» without ^ven giving on this occasion our own opi-
fiipip oif^,the reality of the assumed projects of Russian ambition,
pir!fh'e facility, or. the difficulty^ of carrying them into effect, of
i^^ealj.pr affected alarm with which they are viewed by sooie>
mtcl thf) mbeopnuiiig levity with, which they i^re treated by others^
w^ititiU nserely obsek^e, ibatt as' the probii>ility of soch projecta
bbing enlwrtained and attetnptcdy and tbe chances of success, de«
pbw^iitfte chlirti<!ter of the soviNPeign whose uncontrolled will
dij^Cts the energies of that assemblage of a hundred nations,
differing in laws, languages, manners, and customs, but agreeing
lfV/WM>Atfn4^,y^nei;aii9Y^ fl^^iipplicit ohedienj^e to their prince,
ii^Pti^y»almoat.ireiB^d as a.Peity.ou.eartli.^ it ii i«riispen^bly
i^ceMfirjy towfircU jTorming ax:prref:t ideib of the matter, to be ac-
qjU^int^dwitb the Bioral an4 iiUellectuM.quili&catiops,lbe (atents
ap4 ^ .wp9^iMI«999»#libe virtuefi aqd tb^ vices, of hiin who wielda,
whether for good <oi^<^vil,.9o tren^endous a.poy^er, and of those
who are the elements of which that power is composed. Every
account, therefore, coming from a respectable source, whether
confirming or refuting preceding statements, is worthy of atten-
tion, and we shall quote. ij:Qio..Qjir.J|utflQrjt.(pre>ii>8ii^S ^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^
warm admirer of the Russians and of their present emperor,)
various anecdotes and observations, illustrative of his opinions of
both.

His first impressions at the view of the magnificence of St.
Petersburg resemble those of most preceding travellers.

** On the summit of the winter palace a wliite flag, with the crowned
double eagle, was hoisted, as an mdication that the sovereign of the
cast, the eagle that« with protecting wings and piercing eye, watches over
the seventy millions of subjects in his immense empire, is in the capital ;
when the emperor leaves Petersburg the flag is struck."

458 Recollectiom of Russia, Turkey, and Greece.

We believe that this estittiate of the population of the Rusnan
empire (including of course the kingdom of Poland) at seventy
millions, far exceeds the amount generati; assigned to it. At
least we do not recollect having seen any so high as even sLsty
millions, and we are inclined to think that the latest official reports
do not make it exceed fifty-seven millions. But the Huaaian
aynod, which publishes the retumsi gives only chose of tlie nHSm-
bers of the Greek church. We have been also informed, on good
authority, that the returns of the Russo*Greek populatioo are
much below the mark, because the noblea, having to famiafc a
certain quol^ of recruits according to the number of their vaasals,
are not very accurate in the lists which they give. Bat, what*
ever the real limount may be at the present moment, ifae very
rapid increase of the population must in a few years raise it to
seventy millions and more. In the year 1834 the returns to the
synod give the births and deaths of members ol the Greek cburdi
as follows : —

£irl/i«.— Males 979,977

Females*,,* 928,801

Total .« 1,908,678

Deaths.— Msies 657,822

Females.... 635,1 76

"•■^"^■••^■^

Total ,. 1,292,998

Excess of Births 615,680

" There is, perhaps, no sovereign whose character has been so wm*
represented as that of Nicbolsui, an observation however which
applies onl^ to foreign countries, and to a certain period, giddy with
notions of liberty. He is adored by his people. W hat a truly noble-
minded man this prince is, he has proved on numberless occasions
during his reign, and the cry of moles, working in the dark is by
this tnne pretty well reduced to the ridiculous nothingness to which it
appertains.

** Even the person of Nicholas is truly imperial, inspiring awe, and
yet exciting confidence, A well-proportioned vigorous h<Nly» sibove
the ordinary stature, bears a head which seems to be formed after the
noblest antique models. A slightly curved nose, a smiling mouth, and
a blue eye, which beams with mildness united with austere dignity, be*
neath the high forehead shaded with light hair, give the countenance a
friendly, and yet a serious cast. I was one day walking with a strai^r
who had just arrived at St. Petersburg, when we met the emperor iq
his little one-horse droschki, and, stopping a moment, respectfully
saluted him. The emperor looked very stedfa^tly at us, on whk^h I
observed the countenance of my companion suffused with a deep red.
On my inquiring what was the matter with him, he owned that the

Mf^ikatms ^ ^Hh^^t Turkey, and Greece. 459

ewperm's fook. which be eould not call aevere, bad» how&ver» eon*
fused him. He had felt that if he cast down his eyes hin embirrass*
ment woald cease, and ^et he had not been able to turn hi^ looks aside
from the emperor^s majestic figure. I must observe that the person
to whorp this occurred was not a revolutionary Pole with a bad con-
science, or a poetical visionary, bat a very plain man. Tlie Russians,
even the common people, who are accustomed to look upon the Czar
as their father, and therefore seldom call him any thing but ' our good
fccker/ as they do the empress * our good nMher/ are more bdd.
I have sometimes seen, when the emperor was going through the streets
on £^U in his plain green uniformi and without any attendants, dd
IFlwssiaiis, with their long beards and in their national costume, fanii<»
liarly approach the sovereign, and state their concerns to him, on which
the emperqr apj^eared to give them a kind answer, with which they
departed well satisfied*

" The foundation of the great moral energy and firmness which the
emperor has so frequently manifested in imminent danger proceeds
^m a firm reliance on God, who has saved and protected him when
death insidiously menaced his life. It is well known how, in the rebel*
lion which broke out on his accession to the throne, he remained for
hours, without fear, amidst the troops of the rebels, and at length, only
when all his expressions of mildness and clemency were disregarded
by them, had reconrse to rigorous measures. An officer in the ranks
of the rebels, who declared on the trial that he had sworn on the host
to murder the emperor, confessed that, at the moment when he laid his
hand on his pistol, an incomprehensible power had hindered him from
executing his purpose. A look of the emperor's, which accidentally
met biro, while addressing the rebels, had at once unnerved and dis»
armed him.

" When on the breaking out of t)ie cholera at St. Petersburg the
frenqr of the people mamfested itself in the most frightful excesses, and
at length proceeded to the murder of the physicians, whom they fancied
to be the authors of that dreadful disorder, thfe emperor, accompanied
by a single aide-de-camp, hastened to the Haymarket, where a furious
crowd was collected. He addressed them with a menacing voice, and,
when some began to complain of the poisoners, as they called the phy-
sicians, he commanded them to fall upon their knees arid ask pardon
of God for the wickedness of which they had been guilty : and, as if
thunderstruck^ thousands sunk down, and with tears implored God and
the emperor to forgive their error,

<* The cholera had appeared in Moscow and spread universal terror
and consternation. People scarcely dared to approach the sick for fear
of infection. Suddenly the emperor arrived early one morning in that
ancient capital of the Csars ; he repaired first of all to the church, where
he prostrated himself in fervent prayer before the altar of the Lord.
He then proceeded fearlessly to the cholera hospital, and, taking one of
the most dangerous of the patients by the hand, spoke words of com-
fort to all of them, and exhorted them to rely on the support of the Most

^^9{if^{m'<tf..^!fV'%Tff^tP>4(i';*tcA\

i.ra^hpjpe's^wrilianO.'tliarsdjnp ,pr*tTi^ ^o'isK.'faoati'es in
Mpsofvpi^^tp gDj'^iiiiflgr lalse. iiauies, \o St- P^t^rshurff, ami
t^iifi) t>Vi\'gerT{spa,a [^n^rcd'tlipusantljiersonp assemttl'' i"
o ^s^sfiinai^ tjie cmjier^r..' t^ was jTenqraUy 'believed in St.
J'tlial, afier the'receipt ofawcli intelliijarice, tW fete wouU
be cOjU^teripan^ed,— but.tfaif^ was ^misifite. Tjie emperor. evcn-gaTe
ordf'r^, fljat'^n'tli^f JavjiQ^qilice officers slioum a|mpar pi' l^eierhof,
a^i)^ accopJpani(;3 pnly^^^ Voilietvin-tiw, Prince Alt>ert prPrusiU,
(ie'rfife itiripiialviil^e paV|t in all 4i ructions, welcomed liy ine peop's,
ijjlio'.trpm'blc^'&j-'jljie'l^^^ 'Till.laie

in 'tne e'vc''ning'lTie einperof was seen wfili hts laniify amUst the'crowil,
vievyin^^^he siilcndid iljugfinatipps, andyiiispy Qf ^^^
("i»'_^wer^''j)rtib'a\jljf\presc(Jl,"^ Was prttvet) (iy several arreata 'on ihe
fcliowiiiff^iJa^V 'jINot the" sii^fifest, irace of 'apprehension appeared ia
nie'countcnailce 'of t^e emperor. ' He tiafl thrown himfiel^ on the pro-
lfe'c(tpn ()f t^Wliiglier'poyi'er which shielded him.
]''^''A.3f^r'^orori|e^pirLt''oj'tJiii'piou3 resignation^^ niay ijuote the
wi^i-i^'i'H^niciili'pip9]t'e, wlicri iji'e cipjijes^ and ttie royal. fanitly at Bet*
lyi 'implored liijii,' ill tlie'gutijmuo^ 1834, tvitto pass tlirough 'WarEaw,
ih^i' ^cu^ 'of ingr'atiti|il'(; and treachery. "^'' lam jn the hand of God.
Hy Has"n'uiri1)eftd my days-^ifj (all U^niiist J^^liis'will,' Ha wiH be
<lo'hel| ti-as' i'he reply Hirif the trutygpeit irip(iaieh made to'his family.'
WiWhe reached iho''fi:ontiers.<^ kitifidom'ofpoland.he flispiiascd
the'troops'whjcliliad, 'teen assembled for'nis prtfteotioii, mw, accompa-
rii^'ohly^^his'finthuilallen^ci'ntlCountBeqfc^ through

tli^ wholq c6u'ntry"tQ Warsaw^ ^ Tfi'ese iraits 'of the' "charade r of the
erriper'o'r ate true, ajid Vet igndrance ventures to jnsiilt'snch i thoiiarch,
and ko Gi^niaiizc fiim nf a tyrant,' and Heaven knowj wlicit ' besides.
Persons^ of sense fiiay'Ju'lge by this what tliiy ^re to fliihk 6F liie
ye|pin^ofibe world-retorniing reyolutionists : to tak'c 'the field' against
themji in order to convince them of iheir error,' would be labour in vain.
''*'how '(Tie emperor has thought and acted towards bfs advers^vs,
who h^ve injiifcd him. the following anecdotes will show. On the
Hr^.^tiri^'up of tlie' camp of the cadets near Peter'hof, ia die suinmcr
of" 1833, '.whci)' they were inVitffl tiir table by tli^ emperor, he iiitro-
diiifed'lwo of'ihem 'to the f riipreasi'' saying Iq her, tfiis is the son of
Geiieral 'ir^^'who fell iii ii\y service at tlie storming brWaisaWi^-^and
tHIsis the son of 'Ciilonel^-—;, vi%o died gloriously %htingiagunst my
ti'6&ps, 'in'ttie'ljravc (lefence of the fortificattons of'Wua. (have
pftfhii^d |q suppr^ (he place (ff a father,— do you t'herefore'bg a moiler
t(i 'jicm. ■ This 13 the ;^e emperor reepecting whoni the French
jofif^'als fabricate 'the mosf ridictitbua 'Failles df'.lhe ban'ishiacnf of
po'pV'PoIt^lr c^ild'reiT fo.Sjberia,' and V'lich qeirtaiti' Gcrmi^n Jon'tn-ih
crMuToitsIy repeaf.arter'theip.^'',,'^' ._'_,,' ' ^"^ '^ -'j "' . .,/,'"

BeeottnlioM o^ Rmh, Tni^ke^, ond Oreece. 461

*

^^Tli6 feniperor was mfbtmed (hat geh^ral S , who wag a>o«

eerned in the Polish revohition, and had lately died at Paris, expressed
biB f egret on his deathbed that liis body would not be. buried in his
native land. The etnperor imniediatefy gave orders for the body to
be conveyed to Poland at his own expense. A considerable pension
was granted (o the family of (he deceased for life^ and handsomi»
presents sent to the daugnters ot the master of the house at Parts,
whefe tha general had lod^d, and who had attended him with th9
greatest care to the last moment.

'' Njcl^olas is agreat soyerei^rn^ and at the same time a good father
and husband. The domestic happiness of the imperial pair is not
obscured by the slightest shade. The empress is a most amiabla
woman^ it majestic and handsome figure^ worthy of the consort who is
most d^vpt^y attached to her — a circle of fine children surrounds
them. ' .

** The emo^ror's eldest son, Alexander, now seventeen ^ears of age.
appears likery io resemble in personal i^nd mental qualifications his
tliustridus father. Of the gocxlofss of bis heart there are many
iiistances. As he goes out every day» advAntage was taken of this to
present to him innumerable petitions, and as there were probably many
amo^g them that could not be attended to, and the good nature and
the purse of the princci and, if they' were insufficient, those of the
emperor, y^er^ n^sapplied# the latter u)rbade the prince to receive such
{iapeirs in future on his excursbns^ In spite of this prohibition, th^
prince one day brought home a petition, for which the emperor, on his
presenting it^ reprimanded him. The prince, then twelve years of age»
replied, * A poor officer crippled by his wounds, whose pension is
scarcely sufficient . to buy dry bread for himself and his numerous
fateily, seeing that th« authorities rcfhsed to make any addition to his
income, applied to me^ to submit to you, his emperor, through me, his
humble request. In this case it was my duty to trangress your pro-
hibition, end the realty poor man, who has lough't and bled for you^
will certainly not be dismissed frotn your throne unheard.' The
emperor embraced his son and desired liim to follow in future only the
feelings of his heart towards the unfortunate, A considerable addi*
tion was made to the officer's pension.

'^ As we are here giving characteristic sketches of the members of
the imperial familyi we must not pass over the emperor's brother, the
grand duke MichaeL He too is a handsome man, but there is a
gloomy expression in his countenance. He is very generous, almost
more so than his finances will allow, and especially to officers and
soldiers. The following anecdote will show that it is not for the sake
of public praise. An officer of thd artillery^ which is uiider the com-
mand €JT tne grand duke, came from a distant garriaon ioSu Peters-
burg td receive money for his regimbit. On nU way hack» pisssing
the night in a small town, he was so chohghdess as td go to a gaming
table and lose part of the money entrusted to him. In despair be
hastened back to Petersbutg, proceeded to the palace of the grand
duke, and requested the aide-de-camp to obtain liiro a hearing of his

VOL. XVIT, NO, XXXIV. I I

46t RM>lhciimis,'^Mimmi Ti&hgf^m^

nmierial higfaties», but vridtoot iBeiitkinfaig hii'iiaiDe. The grand
mme, henig very bu8y« desired the tidieMle*CMn|» tb mqme ^dMtite
oAeer wanted. After eome hesitttioiiy the latter confessed hirlknktt
the aide-de-camp, and said he was come to beg the |irince to lem^lnn
the sum, to save him from inevitable disgrace. When the grand diiikt
heard this, he rose angrily, and was going to the adjoining apertriieot
tt> the trembling ofibnder: when he reached the dcMir 1^ soMfeHlj
tuiticd baek^^vetlie sam to hia aide-de-camp, and desired him la
leU the o6ficer that he did not lend htm the moaey) bnt gaMkfo
btm-^^that he did not know him, and would not know Jur nslne-^
that ke could not be saved a second time from a disgrace cnnied bf
his own fault, and therefore he should take care to refi>rm«

* » * « During my stay in Russia, it gave roe great plea^rn to
observe the national peculiarities of the common people. A circnm*
atanoe that immediately strikes a stranger is the daaiSQttjr and ddci*
Jilf of the fiussianSt Thus k is well known that tke rqgimennd
iMundfl ace «ompoBsd of young peasants^ who perhaps, bad ne^ecMbne
sven seen the instrument upon which thejF, in a diori time^ attain gaeat
ferfection. The. leader of the band aays to the nacrnit, * Yim mi m

eay on tits anstrunent,' and a Russian does so. Tk^ most irwiaflwi
e instance of this aptness at fearniogy is the ceiebraled hum knnd.
now in England* The natural talent of the people for nrasie and
singiogy certainly has its effect ; for a song is the insepmnble 'conspn-
noon of the Russisn. Whatever be mi^ be doings W singai cUafly
alow aiiSf in a minor key*

( * ^ '* A friend of mine» who had apprentieed avveml of kin yoang
peasants to mechanics and artists in Sc Petenbtti^^eBSplnytdoila^
shein» who bad been about three years with a painter, to paint »<
for him, tlie ceilinff of which was so admirably done aa to
the astonishment of connoisseurs.
' <* How many tools does a German carpenter take when he gnoa to
his work? The Russian has nothing but an extremely diarp hmoliet
sticking in his girdle, and wkh this he exeentes every things ewenlhe
«arved ornaments of the wooden buildings. If he waols n pktmMhae,
lis tiea bis axe to a piece of strii^, and this answera M his pn^oaes
just as welL When I lodged in the H6iei de Lmdm^ 1 4»fttn iooioad
for hoiurs together at the erection of the booths intended for the feati-
^ies of the carnival, and could scarioely conceive how the isUoiw,
merrily singing all the time> couUl execute witb kis batchy alone all
the variety of carved work which adorns the gable»«ndn and tbeU*
conies of the booths. f '•>

■' '' The Russian possesses extraordinary, presence t»f mindt wUeh
often borders on rashness, and, if you point out the idangnr to wikisk
he exposes himself, he replies very coolly ' iVs&otf/ Never fsnr. On Ae
erection of the Alexander column, oneof the rollers emfdoyedon the oeea*
aioq caught the hand of a workman, and threatened to drag Ina wbak
hody under the enormous mass, which must have emshed him to atons.
A Russian carpenteri seeing the imnanent danger, snatehed np kia shaip
hatchet, and, crying Ntbo$3i cut off the arm of (be snfierer nt

iMdke^ The «nai wio hnd in this dreftdfbl mlmner 8ii€hi»d affi)Hitft«
«kii vras eonve3red to sn hospital, where he speedily i*eoovered« Tte
emyaBor has given both to him and his resolute surgeon an aimtel
fttnsimi of 50a nibleft."

tVe have no room for any of the author^s descriptionfi of the
various fkes and amua^meats of- the Russians^ of which, beaidei^
•ctfomitt DBfty be found in the works of preceding trafellers, but
-we- take some passages from^ his description of the promenade
to the park of Oatbaritienfaof, on the 1st of May^ which resem*
Ues^ in many respects, the promenade of Longchamps at Parik,
and that of the Prater at Vienna ; all intended to welcome the
refiirn of spring.

^^ The empress, with the princesses and their focHes, takes part fh
tfan a» in all bther popular festfvals, as well as the emperor and the
pritoees^ who appear dn horseback. The Mie seem^ to- be conttived ^
ffive pei^le an opportunity ef displaying their new -equipages, whMi
drive irioWIy up and down the great avenue for houn together, the
'pedeacrians eoHecting hi the road between the two lines of carriei;^
to tee die (Company, or to exchange a few words with ladies ttf thdr
acquaintance in the carriages. Among the people who are dispersed
e^er the extensive park» and fill the well^rnSshed t>rdinaries, &e.
yon see many persons in singular costumes, from all parts of the
empire. I was particularly struck with the Armenian princesses, ih
tibecr hdf Oriental costume, with a kind of diadem on their heads,
and long whtoe veils, who since the country has submitted to the RuSi-
■iatigeveniMient, live at St. Petenburg, where they have apafrtniema'hi
the Winter Palace, and receive considerable pensions from the Rnsslah
croWn. I was much amused with a Samoiede, a crooklegged little
feMew^ aboet three feet and a half high, with a flat^ wrinkled c6uhte-
nantse and black bristly hair. He wore high boots of undressed reiii-
deer akin, and a short B<^let coat, fastened round his waist with a
bright tin hoop. A silver medal, with the effigy of the emperor, was
hong round his neck. I had seen him before at the masquerade in the
Whiter Pala<^e, at New Year, and heard that he had been sent by his
people to auhnrnt to the emperor some matter concerning their tribi.
It was probably on this occasidn that he received the medal. To
judge by his jumping and capering, he was highly delighted with the
novelty of the scene« and his dwarfish figure fbrmed a sttimge coH-
trast with the broad-shouldered colossal subaltern oflScer of the guani
Vrho led him aboot, t^n appointed to waH on htm.' When the emperor
eawhim, he rode up to him, arid conversed with him fbr a fbw minutea.
Hia' puppet-like clapping his hands and capering seemed to indicate
that he was telling the emperor how much he was amused. TWo
Persian monks aliM), hi their long dark robes and h9gh pointed cap'h,
vralked gravely among the crowd. I heard the fbllowing particulars
of their visH to Petersburg. At the beginning of April, 188d, two
strange figures were found, at day-break, aitting on the steps of the

I 1%

JUn^D SMiMw TJbejr ,)imm Jirifti iihiitiiiiift/ thfSii^ tbwiiPWW, ill«r ap-
peared not to understand the Russian la^|plii9»i|OBl^ji«|^iitteir<M(«f«l

>j(wb04ire.aecustQmd' .icriti»e(^ttfMPigflr4<f»£jdlcUiKii Mif Atafidtefg^itiU
AiMMHli toVlookr ^y^ienrAlieifempeiwrjCtiodjQiit^^bCilli^ fialaiitfi f«bgPi)»
'Usuid/itO'tbe tkariide^n 11w{t8l^ilPg0r•nbow•df(lb6tr^te^e8.to7^ vd
jiMretfiod bim<iivli,lfMgtiaffejunl»0!TO(iorlfiiii^ tetuxdifek ^wtiwtffiidit
jiMml^by «ne orw^het ride^^eaqpp^jwjioiiwidjWf^ftBtbocfaft^iitiiflWf i>
'iifcrM«i»>«ndJ6»jn|^jiW»;^«#iag9 of otbc^jWHtafetirn'irMi ctfEad^oiiMlr
jprfifd^fiiieif^iaddfeiiij mbichivvias^itf uAHj^ fol^ASKriagKfttowCNHeiftXb^
:irtrai«Qmu^€fwijPerwi» Jtoqki^iiK'bo Jiy ^ednoC <hftGglQ«|iifir ibf
Bl^sMfln4]i;br»ifiid)oCtheiclim«ii0>ivviai;i^biff^ bf^Jwd (wMe4^Ae!>irM-
4.uwbedi;BeMnaik»<h TJwk>t)ol}^imb Jn^i^e^eA^ro MQllb%9«t^AMfiMi

Jmrieyed o« fpniifoboaviyj Mia|ibsillni{tt<^vtbfli «tif&niftiMWll|r^>lt

iWA^ iwtar noitor4i^iArfaft4iMrit»HiUi5. «nXlM9t)to[deMilli 4iP tm^ffiwr

amili.vi4pMild)inoiC(>fefii«iijbame^{ttl|fii

4yi|^ifi>it*»apnMimdbt ,fMf(itbf)iii ^|f^^W3Tim^t^9mM fimi^ihgnfi^

4i««ai»ibi^gte(iftiba(F^Dkili)sndl)i^^ tbe»>iw»DiBBltotoattMiiMl»p>ft»

.Tberi^JBHiedijiMioihlBipBascni*} and lHtf^«»b9Pc|Mt\jrt8te^tAiiiiio^

rioiiliVi^rjtbejWginoinft ofiMafiibm m^ftonia^lMAamii}^^
^idftioff'iliiib,aofialkbQsflb«dk{ an^ ntt»tu>ilfr4fn»i

-'^"^ >im(th«iimaningi&-*f oa|M( jl^i^ilaarbaridfcfw

itself, part (the artillery^ for instance) in the adjoikUqg^pMflf^

chisApa-

^^a^^a'/ji^fe^lffe Wa]^'^6nfVJ/y i^HH'MiiSP' J«^aM%\M2«^tt

and rides down the ranks, which receive him with a morning ^l^luui^
^dflft^iilp MaidfA tUs rfiiA|MiQr//r^fel,,t^iJytI^'r^llkftbjlrte%oo^ben
>comi»(iliaJem|^rbug»>«4th;^tb4sf r^ficm dM^ittigfiil^i|^rtMv>M(l

4bair4adir!^ info|itnioattobge)*» aiid:)tdcaibMr4^corifn6KVtoi4h9hMIMd
,«fi.th0i ^«nBMB.{JfftfdcHi4 1 < Utwlti■te^tire> 4if4oiimti4^i bffiyf jl«rm^fm
biol'sebabki Af datbtioniJiAmaelMainext t«ib^*fi|iii|Migw ^iimffipriM-
yTbetbMfMoivAft^rtcadibg)«ki6«^Iibci ff(iiUiiicpo^)Mtb6i<liiliM«)«llb
<Mid.idbM lheutoprbsauuMbtii0;&>rei^ htakmmMf>M%t[$m^gtmkmi^
Ipvitcfeibrig dialmgbiahbi^be£fdss1tfu(<iititbal^itbilf Siin^iScbl^^
Jind>jlwi'4ualiiab^iCk>^ii^^^ wiMta^

<fri^i«laUi fifltU)MB(te^^rbAidfi>)tttim-Ji^fiibeithlM^
.oUn^&mibiiesihod eaidHthaUlriv/JiAiieaiQA thoJhiatfi^i aviAnhmf^
Omd^ibBbM^^KiBm psnnjncDEiisndiilie^jn ^pwaii pti Ate Wmwiwi i^tIJ^
guarcUocaiihoilleto ibiiaboaDirMUek^ ^^idda^UHilkA b|Mu^«dbfr
)^1iy» cvehi^itilBilglUb.^iH'jrUeiciDpecKtt fsTfres^iwii

.iqnd>jiiiiflii ctUsr^fifoarioaMhMjdeiTieA/^bcfmil^hi/Aasita^^
trian ambassador, and said, sihibng^ U whattbi^nk'^oiii M|Mi£^

^fy^ will (iiwitofdrfiitfii^ ifhMtoit:ihe(Fttoicb(tmii, vMi v/ag^'Mili hy\*%'ili
%lia emperor, in ^s fttiolilesi^hc to, see tboli atbMe Qgui-es>)itwi in

c^l^fiishioii^ br^ oaj^i '^^elirse^drvision^of ibejcb^aliy was Ai$A'4if
tH^ '€i««^$iaAtf; iodtsciYi^ bC'50d'4T]m)''(^4be^'«r&'lnhabitams^f'the
CiiMcMii^ 'trfwj ilMbgH tmy'ha^e^^oCwtvonilitmtbdf/tfytfhe'RifeiittB^gii-
'^e¥timiiiifV'bKf#4lilMfi QV«t^'i6^ol'ClMiTcy^bvrettMUe theiri^ifltit^al' sd«iage
^fe^ltioiiptfndUc^i|«ilrail^'tMimiii4^ iwbpii ^lltioned^ih thcit coufAvy.
'TAa'gi^mwna^irlrJUtt a6iv'ii4«V^drftyAMV tarsnaofouli^ 4o itvv Thnie
IvaNMd'ol^ ftMAeiGifcsoddiiins ^ciiBmt^iMUnlibi^Jj where thtfyibrm

<B^mhirymiA\ imHd^aftd teceirni^ higHtpii^, Itfieiunvateitifitfrbbq^
if!v«frhfadltti^ilalittr^( neaif Ibiir fmiiidkrttQMiigp'peir t»ittii^ithcw:ma»-

^6(wUeV0d^l!Cf^M(|>oeU€n,'imd lo» tMr-Mqiei/toiUieifcnBdirffinioikfi
taius cannot sufficiently praise the good treatBieii}/dicy!<liinrpi«3^^
'4^kifctUb%ldeta^euito%,gK«o»tbei«i eottdtiyiMiitt iavoui^lMfefubpi^ion
:<^/^d/Rus8kn <gdt(t«^iileB(UJnlElii8! [Aii&ii||oibaai:tiie,de8lfeA>eH0cd;

'«bd ^ti(Aliii|gqbaBv/bttodifardbi)Bf klMfvof^edbtpr^ ikMarflMto^iifoi^'isfaiie

'> '>^^o^it<Ur{fhiir(pctriUk^iMay^lBftp^'W8)rei|Atin ehig EVeiMi ioanukU,
8MA'^ausi^fi\9mii\n<^wih lie^lcMiaDarf fap^irsibF^SoudMiani 0«(t^^
:MriVig0iitory4ofUlieofli|l(iiiMhg'«flfiiciJtift Ai^^ciflleerfoftuha paMs^md^

ti«ltl'mi«is^ <oe»K(Mirty»'^«d mfpM^MttykamitbM^ftLxMm^'^-'nk
.«h^fcM<iifi>i'itabe'0fi«ot»'jaiNl«hf iMlilQ»tei»t^dibmrtytiW8tuimfMdii^^
«br«i^;j|MiioibeMiAMrftu^i. ^e^o^tmUduiiiaivitiiadei^lf i^cdbliiiiM
.^ithy-'kiM^^iittiP 4he)r4pdti6k>>irf^4bfkfa >by tMnJO^nM^ phnUMi^qf
lA^y/ dit«i«Mi^riAku^M 'i»)ibbabnatt«rpniL
^lleb^^iftiW •onAfieddft'jdut |A>i«i^

lUtfliie^J^vito jff wSfMSm'^* b>itJiiiaWiihhi«rhil»i«d bodtvaCcitTbirhvble.
l^kte HqMf iMuidMHty teepairrflbiidhd euperai ats«b«ti\p«bde,faiifl
«iMiiyiiii9K Mitaifdu«9dibigs9tfiUieibiiO>I-fllMii efikbo(BMnclil)JMm-
<flri^'^iVii» i^]^(iibaidtfabftHfliPO«qoraedri^a8.Aiis$Aaiii^ .^viiiiery

^Ac^Ut* tfelittliM c^fivvlyi iMJ^dafeh>trf>twit«toni)tii!8 4bfcD ao'bitdinpt

4Q6 ReeolleciioHs of BuMa, Tmktjf, and Qr^iee.

of the Rudsnms, wkich are too long to be inserted here, MmI dM
less necessary, as the valoar and perseverance of the jttmian
soldiers are generally acknowleclged.

** A great deal is done by the government tox the scieotifie educft-
tion of young men intended for officers in the several Corps of Cadet%
in the Superior Engineer and Artillery Schools, the Corps of Marine
Cadets^ the Pilots* Schools, &c. There are in the Russian Empire the
ibHowing Military Schools:-^

The Corps of Pages with 168 etfatSL

The First Corps of Cadets , 097

. The Second Corps of Cadets 702

The Emperor Paul's Corps of Cadets 500

The Moscow Corps of Cadets 058

The Emperor Alexander's Corps of Cadets 42^

The Tambow Corps of Cadets ' 1^2 '

' ' The Toula Corps of Cadets ' . 90

The Noble Regiment ^. 8»

The School of Neplujeff, in Orenburg M

The Superior School of Engineers , 160

The Artillery School 182

The School for Ensigns and Subalterns of the Guard . . 102
The Imperial Lyceum at Czarskojeselo 50

4767
And for the Marine —

The Corps of Marine Cadets 402

The CadeU of the Pilots 560

The Cadets of the Black Sea Pilots 222

Total, 5691,Gad^ta.

^■^^■"

^he following is the auiouni of tihe several corps of the vtm^'^rt
In&SMry, inohiding the Gnards and the Afimary CokNMea i^OM

Qasrison Baltaliooa « • « , ^. , , 50^P0Q.

< IttvaUd Bttttslions* •• v • • « ^ #..<•«<. ^O^OOO

^ . Artili^ry^ including the Garrison Companita «...•«% 40.000

r Bngineers and workmen , « * 18,000

. Cavalry, including the Guards and the Military Colonies 95,000

Train ^ • 1 0.000

Cossacks and Irregular Cavalry • 90,000

mm^-mmmtm—

Toti^ 809,000

" Though I saw with great pleasure a navaf review at Croostadt, io
which the evolutions of the fleet were directed by the empeit>r himself,
I am not sufficiently acquainted ^fth the subject to give an opmion.
Recent events have shown the glory which the^fleet hiii acqvifed under

Mfi^ttMimis o/Riiisia^ TurR^, and Gteeck 40il

fb0 Bttferor Nif holitti who annuaUy deyetes lapttfe sitip* to iiHSieas^
IUbA iinorove iu Its co-operatioa at Navarln, and ia the campaign of
Field-Marshal Diebitsch against Turkey> the capture of Anapa, ancl
expulsion of the Turks from the Black Sea^ have gained it vrelU
repntatien. What might the situation of the Turkish Empire
havie been, had not af Russian fleet anchored in the Bosphor'Ua in
JS^Sf add protected ComtaHtiDople against the rebeUioua Ibn^im
Ptohat

'* The latest accounts state the Russian navy at 54 riiips of the Uote^
aK' #igaf«, lO^bombTeasela, 2% cutlers, 50 gfdleya, 500 gun .boats,
500 ro^ boatsy aad 25 fire ^ps; in all 1 196."

Otir autbot speaks in terms of great commendati6n of the
measures adopted for enlightening the people, especisflly of the
department of the minister of popular instruction, und6r the
direction of a native Russian, M. Uwarrow, President of the
Academy of Sciepces, who is well versed in most branches of
le&min^, and most ardent in promoting its interests;

In the Oriental Museum, under the direction of M. von Ade-
king, the author saw a large collection of Indian and 'Persian
paintings^ which, for the drawing and brilliancy of colouring, may
be called masterpieces.

** Among them is an almost contemporary portrait of Gingiskhan,
which M. Adelung intends to have lithographed. It has the following
inscription in Arabic * Portrait of the late Timur Kh^n, the Turco-
man, drawo in the year 10£0 of the Uegtrai (1611 of our era,) by
Sadiki Beg;£fschar. The most humble of servants^ Monin Mansour,
obtained possession of it in the year 1095. May it be fortunate.* '*

Here our author seems inadvertently to confound Gingiskhan
and Timur; nor does it appear how a portrait of this date, even
of^tbe latter, can be called nearly a contemporary portrait.

Th6I[gh the author seems to have travelled by land from St.
Peterabu^, he says not a ayllabic of any part of the empire
tkrpugh whieh be passed ; his neat chapter^ commenciiig with
his departure from Bucharest, on the d7th of December, 1833,
giyes an accountof his journey from that place acroasthe Balkan
to ConstaAtitiDple. His picture of the ertreme misery aiMHfioral
degradation of the inhabitants, the idleness and filth of the lower
oroersi the rapacity and tyranny of the Bojars, contrasted with
the beauty and fertility of the country, is calculated to excite the
moat painful feelings.

' *^'A WaRabhian village," says he, ** is the non plus ultra of* the moat
JiaguBltag filthinesB and wretchedness, and consists of holes-dug in the
gimnd, over which there is a loof formed of poles, seldom covered
with stcaw, but generally with turf. . . .To obtain provisions in such a
.viUage 4s dot n)erdy difficult but impossible. I could get nothiiig
^puy^^ even, by paying, a high price for it. <The postmaster cbold

cntJgAreflHaB[iiarbit^lbimd;«<l^advitedil»>t«'flitoke4t^4<pe if 1
wu hungry. The common Wallacbian is ^ai|ji< bHAusc-^ b^^'Tili^*'
he ihall not be allowed tp^enjoy the. fruits, of his labovr, biit liis^ tbey
i*itt V taken from Wm nrtto vai^o«a'lirtteSit4 bj ihe -Greeks, the
frfmWnf dPrtie' Bbferi,'«:hdaVe tKe Ibrtfci 'dtndirviRte^sii^fbG truly prriabfc
^aSirttgi'TKele 'Greeks "fn'Waflayil? aiid' MbHavia are iTie wjobi
gOoJ-tOT-hiJtli!'nj tflnmff* trti tbe ftc? 6f;ilie earth, ailfl ibe'P'oH^h Jews,
■wfio'dieiit and plotfdtif the ptasants is Potand, sre' bdiiK 6f a'irfperidr
orclpf i)i ccrtnpartfibnwith mini" Thfc WaHicTrian'/lhel^fote'' tiies-fhrm
Itandio tnoUC^ regar^esatifHH^Jrast Bi^dthefuttirei With'iittTe'^iiktrc
Iprtiliman nAture ftbont bmi'tliin tlx 'ibfnt: l^etc l^'jo^Hja^, i»o
country in Europe where nature ii more kind and prodiictlve. btit

•)n<W«lUH)40!aiiojMqldlivHi, i.J^id^ i^ gi»Ml:ii^m^.>«tlkiifruf,,fht,tI)c
Tt«M«s.ffj W» pfie|i)s. .tJwK ¥i(rjiitr4s^ifwiw pr<^Wjf,^ tfeW/,PP-

-S^^9Hf'^,.^°Wm'm-'!<! ;y:', .-.„!,,, „;..,J„;.,i-.;i-ir -m: ,;.:,:.
M<<>fjiUi]il«MA[HpenfUb*lie!BnfaBK>^IIncUebbcH'bdBaye<^
'> i'9'Wi^'lMt;;(heti«hir«; iitiite^M'(>l#«aK''ttitb>iflii'yBM)Miii|^iHiflB'ire
;lb(iM^<rta^tf itnbnl^tlw ;i>p4(j^'ftir0r^'talkatiliani^ft^Hd,tairi«nm

.tirMaiv«Tf«eBHUe)ob»^rivMQP9^i BtJI^

WW pi^'^,5>y,^'J ^^,T)»Tksr ,%' t) jfkicii

Jie sbowed to (he vanquisbed'. , W i^'t to

'ihe'tert'o^ou^ Hiifiiyi s\m itlfe Vc fihlils

ftittl«t!itfrtt(6i'ofW(!lioM'ccW6 m.'

'"fin "Wi''- '"J llirF>iil :-i- ■■
The BuIganaDs are verj,

, -T-or-i? — -q -- Kiiasiah,'We **re'able

bf eifn«rsewMrihem,ftn(l'lfearried'(]iattliey''aremii(Hy''iWitfcdbj-'fl»tft
thiirtci'*) 'the 'TTV;kV,.llieV'beirtg tile lW^^■^il(lmIrfi-lMi"tt^rtittfto^8rf the

'(ttiCftlTtttktry. "Hie ButgaT!BW)n«itar&*«*i«t,'ihll5 ¥%t)tOMnwe;

'dMW«Meii'toiUi(Al;*tl)H}^n(bf^ih«ii:>fiR)stt(bAfaiMrw.-ra>abUiiirih>t
oihtbe wMMi)6ftteOr9kiiUan^ir«>d'4heif aiocmljfi9W«4kd>«IMu>e

'tUQibiWinkotadtpro^i^wt'Qfr'ttieiJ'iwMfh wonw.,; .iCtwir J^uly

'''"llle'^tTiilplJ^tMVt' •(\t*!'-pti»sM^ mtsr.tktk Birikw » iMwcstiog.
'']^'t!^lie^t'^oHiI'M«t''oVer'«4iic(iiiUe<tiiiikoripaiB<d)iU-«lMat
■g.iaoO^fti^'BbdWiCh^'MVel dT'I^b'Majii ¥hos^ b'lnay WMp-

-ff^ r«jfr«^&t«tt «(' (tMitiMily '(feiigerou»^<ai)()<Sit>Mni«'i»bcra »o
'itiM^;tMt it >«ft» IA«t!t^^n'ar« Mrn itv«)i« mmd «(> Ave -> ptstol,
Yi"i>"#iJrn1ii£'.M nlat>i!H«1'/:d#rtting"it» tA^ opjMMnMlliPeClmi («

cc

Hi;

^^^ _ iiairttaldifijaL

iTiDBirionrnsr

epepyti.w;

Iff, *»»?« !-?«»,. Wi

iftiuHQitf M^^^htf o^i><feiib«!»(af }A(i'<iMt «wi!l<a(>lAtypaifi^ia«|i«%(ni.

nople are not remarkable for novelty ; th^^HiW'^lttfs'MVIilSiC-
ab))tHa(^<tW Ibridahiictf Jinlot«r)>«ttl nteiifis/iDifwttwalir diblAore
tol«faHI«pirit,^Hii^abllh«7<«owr.BHwiffl«t«i;'J[liMfii¥IMin^^

'«oai>paiiioriyrMMiiMdthiaMve«8h vii4iil*itiDe>TMlt8(vreiienU4>rMing
^viM«'9«Ht(^{''iheyf8f«dd niAd^f i(fi»<iMWi>#M»HM5'nireT«'aot<ih

9Cfii»h^ fov^rit^.an^ ,», 8^rMig|^,V'M>V)fl»%ai«MffP«W9^
tnpn he -is. may be certain -of the most friendly treatmcmt if, be

After remainipg only 9 week (from the 6th to ]dflf'9ifiM&/},

attlhor ckvpte^ij.to GnsfBiCieo iH9.#pi^oa^9i,IP ^ftfve gqiih) prfi^i^p

Mill swear ten Xhou!mSAi9iiii'\!ff'iln^94^9^^^^^

jj»MH^-4ber Greqka i|wo»refWaMyf,lH)i|«^o"iftcl^^)ff.»^'W^^
.Ml' Jms/' and di^ Mi in^tfae-fi^lK. \,MimfSms^i' ^^^^^jf^
that the soulhiviiKi conlbUodrA>il'b >lKMifi1IH3brf^|ll4Mi^ih^Oflh
ata»lim»flViaiid(;l4idf;nQ<>iniii$)}(l9 Jifvm^lM:^)8{i|^fiplJ!lffoii^i(^ (4^*
iio l^nd >«f Grieve, ^«ne<Tlhf 4hftrhH^jmi4f9(fi»f¥ m9nf09ti^^

us-

lor (ft GemanX '* ^'^ accomplMMd y#«Bg aiaBy dedmrnai pas-
sages of the Odyssey in Greek, and ni^as traoapMtad at tbe jdm
of treading tbe classic ground of Greece. N.B« He had aefer
been iu Greece before. Three weeks later hit enthusiasm had
vanished, and he longed for the momenl when the skip should
return to Constantinople/' What he says of the filth of the streeCa,
the want of accommodation^ the extiavagaat price of lodgiiig8,&c«,
may be» and we believe is, in a great cbgree, true, bnl we d» not
Kke the spirit inwhieh it appears to be written. Thrmiaa
fevily of expression wfaieb, to onr feeliags at least, is ^tkmmwWk*

".Before the revolution, the plain between Napoli and Ar^swas
adbmed with pfaatations ofolive and orange trees ; ttew it is ttmibrthiy
almost a desert. During the war, die Torka cut down the treea^ ^tbas
the fruit might not he gaihenfdby the mfidel Greek 4iS^' What
escaped them was cot domr by the Greeksi " that the fimit m^ghtaa^ba
flaihered by the infidel Turkish d^gs•' AU in hmKnir of the £i^
Nov Qoifaiiig is planted ; so notbiog grows, and AlUh and God no
longer performr miracles to make something out of nothing. Nobody
expected tbe regency to do this, but as it received sixty millions of
francs from the three great powers, it might have planted, tliat Greece
might one day reap."

The. author is throughout diasalisfied with Count Anaanaperg
and the Kgency and their meaaurea ; he ctnauiaa the trial, of
Colocotrooi for a conspiracy to overthrow the ^verniaeiit amsl
bis condensnation as highly uqostifiablOt and speaks witb pan-
tempt, and even'saaeringlyy o£ Mr. Masaosv who- cottdiicted; tl^
trial. He takes every opportunity of decrying the English, and
JMr«Da<wkinst the resident9.and his friend Mavrocordato, ^' whose
sole object." he says, " from the moment of his arrival in Greece
was* to throw Greece (of course for a weighty c<msideration) iato
the hands of England, to which it would be very welcome as a
valuable addition to the Ionian islands, Malta, and Gibraltar.''

We do not mean to say that the author has no ground for the
censure which he passes on many measures of the regency, its
too lavish expenditure of the money advanced by the allied powers,
its maintaining a milibtfy fojg^.oua vejcy^extravagantscale, with
a ttumbei: of officers sufficient for a corps of 10,000 men,
wrhile the real number of men was only 4,000, the almost exclu-
sive employment of Germans, &c., but there seems to be a hos-
tile lieeling, which renders it difficult to discover when we can
rely on his having spokep impartially. He adverts in high terms
of praise to the good intentions of the young king, but is ex-
tremely surprised at two measures which have been adopted since
die king assumed the government ; these are the- appointment of
Count Arm^sperg to the post of Chancellor of the

Bicoikctians of Bussiu^ T^key, and Gttece. 471

witb a salary of 40^000 drachois ; aod the removal of Colletti
frasA the post of nuiiiaterof the interior. These two thoroughly
atttiDalioiiai measures he attributes to the kiDg^s counseUors, who
have done him no service by their recommendation. ** The
l^^hest place next to the throne should be ftlled hy a Greek.
And what real merit entitled this foreigner to it ? The loan of
sixty millioas of Iranca has been spent during the two years that
he has beett president, and wkhout any real advantage to the
counti^. Let this suffice ! '* For a more correct idea of the
aflFahrs efOreece, we would refer our readers to the work of M. von
JVlaurer, reviewed in our thirty-second number. We might quote
» fow pleasant anecdotes and well-written^ passages, but we have
akeady devoted more space to the work than we intended. As
wre think it higUy probable that it may be tri^nslated into Epglish,
we cannot refrain from expessing our hope» that the translator will
have the good taste entu-ely to omit some passages most out-
rageously oflfensive to decorum^, where scenes are mentioned with*
out one expression of abhorrence, the bare remembrance of
bavinff even witnessed which should cause the cheek to bum with
the buish of indignation and shame.

We will conclude, by stating that the author does justice to
the Graaka in respeot to thdr cahu fearieesaeti of danger, and to
their' very great temperance and abstemiousness^ the latter, it is
true, in no very civil terms ; when speaking of their vegetable diet,
includitig thisHes and all sorts of weeds^he quotes as a proverb,
tiiat'^ A Greek* grows fot where an ass qtarvas.'^

.. XThe^BftttleoC GkaeyeDtAi ,a Tftleiof ^e Thir.toentb.Cintiu;y.) , JDal
►. DoAlore Jf. D» Gnernw^ ., 2 vols.. J12«h»v .P#r«»- J835.. ..i

2. Xa Madtmna' d Imbaxrec (Ottf^Ladyjof .lnWvflf&) Di* Qnan
-^dadih. Mikno*' 18S5»<"' "^ - .• • . • • ,'j....i; ^ >>.

3. Giovamta fiialii, Rtgha tH Nttp0li: ^oriaM ScMoXlV. ^SoiMtiBi I.
Qaeen t>f Naplies : a T^ of rite Foirrteentb Cetttury.) 12iii^
Mlhino. J 835. * '■

4. iJcc/i^ Islomhe del Medio .$t6 d'ltatia. (Hisibrfc'Sc^ne^ of tbe
. Middle Ages iti Italy.) Svo. Milado. 1835. ' ■ ' v"

lTi,wen^;Qaa4i?^ l»«re t^ jreiteriate D^rHrqrii»or:|>f<tf^M^pai^r^^ jnt^^

o£^^n WQiiW a?4^pj^ble :to ^waqvwj^.wjjp ,>vouW rfiri^J^, jf|. Uqnijrity; or
a^efiU] iMdokacfi fiTOm ,9$V€f^f ^Mlf^t. Jf:i>Ji b';f!?pb..in ?i?bic^ tUc

li(^a^uri$ Qf i|^,Ff^a9 liogvlmrly dffiobf^^aUbppgh alKui^^iiig n i^^
of eatQrta|i)|iii9i^#. WV^^ of .^traordinary wi|^:ARf^f^^^'>i^Qw:b. as
4bati.ij?H,ftn4fmiqyjh|^V». be^.^lfowsed,.^ nio,rU|<;in.f^?N5!i^«Wf a»
pri^cM^: Ah^.vorks ,ui iipefiiioQ^ fn^pijcoi^^timi^vtbf a9l^^^en4,of

SyljiQh ipt^rfli/^' alW^J^t lftJ»y4y;«^j^>lw4Hf3^[*b^iF:pVA^'W>fe9r#Jf?9

iji« lio0i^ J«rf .up«in,,the j)rc&eat.(PG^smft IRC, Ijav^ .^K^f^g^ « wiwJ««'.,<'f
fow.puch, wjte^ »#ci^nt, to cWpi Afte.ri)(JU?vept.,o^jf09|« ft^.pf PW
pagW.^OjAq ^xamiftttiMttJ»H» AU^ir peKita,..: ^ . : , ... ,;. y! '..f .
^, Yfi^i.^iP t))Hs groupi^^i^ie.faur fvorKs»:^i.tH)€S of .^yjniai Lead ilis
nr^W^* . :w«» ji»ve fbftBii i»aii|1y jn9^ei^»d.|>F r^^l^ct <for.U^,cy^.49!^<>f
p(|r;(tali<^p l^n^iier-raviewifrsy Vfbo ai^ PJflF^ed, i^gho^fppi^^ spew-
ing. pftbw.wparaWljf HA th^y jK^re pubUihei^ tq c^.jhfiw, fL%l^l»f4^^
IJIavrifkT-iai dcvgpaJ^lou tM,:*ccK>r«)j«>g:ta,Qqc.awfiya ^f . J^^ ^cj?-
qUt*M%»Qaii,ba..<;laMi?flrt opjy by tba. first cou|4«,,.;ih/ftias^ de«

f:i4ed^,p^itW bi^tor^ p/()kvelsu;iior bi^UMcic ir^iufua^esi^Qor are wie,.iii.f|iQty
8iG(iwi4»ted with,aj>y qQjppfehca^^ve or efp^)^cj^eQ^^ipj^t^n,)y^]jiic|be,tha
canQqs.ojfcriticiftm, a«?i« of'H^raWjf Qpliegp.of,X«^eia(t^^
to tb«W; Tli«y,belong iip^,.*8,£^.*f,o«if>novle4gf ^^tQ^Sj^/to wjiy^i^-
i;0fniza4 f^i4 esM*lifhad.#tj?r^ gepflSj} .)]^ wf itb<^ jCan U^y, ]>i^^
d«iPod i»8iCQnJQiHUy.dis«^verijQg^or founding ^i^ p«iir k^, ,fqr tj^ ii^ as
dw^i^iUr. k».i^Vo*er,H to f^UUb^t^ .^^Q^HM ^MfW, Wm Wip .of
literaMv^n J&iQh iifr«iB opff^pkftely^iri^^fffi/ia.t^e o^npibpi^g^ q^
4^pcd,rejpCpipg,4p» a.(t^^*S/b•^,a^dla^Mnr^m^mbef;at^l^X\aI^ any

. ' .Xh? pwpWMV/^,i^ffatf,.ajjid,.fleh^ril^W».lb^p.PP^

P9i^iicoi,b«^^ Abfiir .qciemUiq c^UssiJcf^jop. oc^i^f)9»ei)cUuijres< , and ^.tbcsf;
we now tarn. Tbey were first iotrbduced to us by the eulogies lavished

is|Kni them by their compatriot reviewers — eulogies of which the exag^
gc^tion' ^antiot irat appear superlative to tbe^ countrymen of Sir Wahet
l^^tt.^W^ w^i^ pv«pared (br disappointment x^Htrt we ^uht read
tfaem^ and therefore were not l)y tiar^appoinlment blli^ded to the real
ao^tk'that entithsftj^faetn ito >QiftCi.noticej to \say nothing' of ih^ etaims
resting upon the originality of species of those- iwo whidbltiay. rather be
t^WMfl-l^ov^Hif^.t^jRaj^s, ...»> «b^/ s^y .aom«|hing,Qfj«^^ iU

liWH^I^boPi^t^ iR9JpanP9^^C <^9^W givp igftiinalysispf^pr exacts ifrpm,
each, beginning with the last- mentioned brace, resb^ing wbicl^/we
9ff}^^)^W^il^ W?^ ^^ rea(|kc& may fael sopd^cariosiufj^ and wbicb^ wp
confess/ are more attractive in bur ey^fi ihan m^Q^npvefs^ that offer more
promise of future than positive present excellence,
' 'Sikiof^'Gliidhto'Bke&lgl!^^ hlmsi^lf the editor, w^ dndersrCamt: of A

ciihttimhrihiM'i^'ky'Rg^ m^fmiy ^'^eo^il^'ikni''

lOyi^fKj^t'cHitiificte^ vrf mGitivmi^a i^fii^/^ince !h hH^--^^w^t sha we
iMirUJ3k'|H^liitiimnt tiag^i'fhlit ^ak^i^b^'pfefaei^; idt^i^iJselheM^ OeA^
^^idki'Woxinfimt}: of ttfe o^ihary ti^3<es?')6t it t^^ddir^ 'M
ili^'ifi^^be ^i^/^^Th!^1»i^€her a^fo^^ndiP a^^i^bnci^l it^itfaivee;

f Wlitttaboeltr^

_^ , ^ ^ . Th^^^iulh^Phtt

iHkhii ^he^Biltdi^ of f^bi^tia k^ '^e> ftiiMd 'ft'li^'CK^hiiTdtli; <^k^vt >kipiti
rch^'ifi'obfmHgll^iAJilf 'to'^eek^fa^^ leDs '^nertfly

kiAbivh>oJ^:'kkt^'^r^iiini^lfiil'^^t(^y^ h« btttf^ititt^ OftlV ^f t^

MVU'^tt^ 'id htt Woti^'^' Th1s'^a1tfn^>t)it)vd KTs "^di-k t^be hd iJlfb'M
GWitttin, "H^m f&'HaiH)fd''fbi'Vt^'Aot'^cl^'i^'sihy^^U

ipg Rrobably that the plain taki^6rtfte<l(i(i(^^th^i!i^liisbtiy'^een',p
kgSiii^;* d^t^cfhetf ^d nittMef^; 1)V''hii'"tAi^^^d'MWl AhidStfeus
]i^i$fit^;€ar!^ d1'£>ite^<y/td^^fabilfr Sh^' bail bmf sH mic^a'iikjfbey bs bb
BlHttf;is'«tMWd^drvrd^i<«:'''B(it f^ftm ^''thif b6dlr,^«1Whi b«l'bidled'tt

tm imti^' jkklpeAionag^'md^^iiii^atf ^bforhmmht^ihV fc^WarA,
tor iiM^(i do far^'xce^<}mg 'tbe^At»jptiSii{Vbfl^ sp^ecibi^' ^'^bt»etfts^^
t^'oM^tiiitbrfdty^ intei/'ibe'mbl^sMdf')^
rar^'sdV^'In twoA^ Wi^cAv^l)^^*^tk^> <hW lift^ 4\mi$ei'adiAkilie^f6«llHgs

queen, then past the matar«<bi^bAday;'Utitf Iti^rHc^'^^
Uf)(jf;^th^f«>iii^<<li»ban<l'Ib^g';tbte'^j<i^^^ efitiikmm ^iVa

jealoi^sV; Sb^lJ MdHbbii. ' ^httij Sii^dtlf ^teiited tb^s. Hf^mM^
IttdiWMiir; tUtfaoaghf (^i»Uy''W«'M^iriihv^'^tf|brfy >^Mf^

47< HaUain fhvth.

• •

ihtin lisd we tetntbii rioe and gtowth of the fnokccitispinior^ pMliMi*
But the grcmdi and derelopment of passion U no object t>f Italian ^ra-'
aiaUsts and novelists, who prefer painting it at kM height^ in alt ha «aoit
startling violence — a taste belanging, we apprehend, quite in oraefala the
southern temperament as to. the prevalent nevolntioiiary appetite for
strong excitement. Perhaps, however, the desired end might, apao the
present oct»sion, have been attained with less e&pendtture of patieiice
and metaphysics, by giving, in this same way, two portions of Gioirailii«*a
life-rits beginning and its close. Had the anthor painted the msciy c£
the youthful queen with the brutal husband of her giribood» Andreas of
Hungary; the mode in which she incurred the suspicion of tomplielty in
his murder,-*of which Battaglia assutties, and we irmly belieTehi, her
Innocence, although For reasons that We have no time to urge bere ;*— the
long persecution of which that suspicion was ratfatt the preietft tban tlie
cause ;r-and the splendour of her court after she had,«poB ik regular in-
testigatioo, been formally acquitted by the pope ;— ^the teader SBtgfatheS*
ter have understood the jeabus dnke*s feelings, and would oeriainly have
felt more deeply for the hardly treated and often-wedded queen.

But enough of Giovanna IMma and Signor Battaglia. Indeed it nny
be asked why we bavt at all noticed a woi^l so fUll of ftMdk We iHive
done so because, notwithstanding the faults^ we discern in the author
sufficient talent to render criticism a hopeful, if not a pleasing, task. He
may not always conceive characters justly, but sudi as be contelvea
them he paints them well: in Giovanna, for instance, the unidtt of
queenlj^ dignity and masculine fortitude with the softest teudetiies>»
and his sketch of Margherita, the fond, innocent, amiable wife of the
crafty usurper Durazao, little as we have of her, is sweet and tcroehing^
His bad' characters please us less, as tending to caticatiire» tfaougk
Isernia Is not ill done. We should like to see Battaglia, with doe labmr
and preparation, attempt the legitimate historical novd. To biogit4>liy
he seems to us less adapted ; gladly, however, if he will force «i to te»
cant this opinion, shall We make the amende homrabit.

But we must not quite dismiss Signor Battaglia without making one
observation upon his language. We are well aware that all oonttnentsd
languages are just now in such a course of progression as renden dfo^
tionaries of some few years standing nearly unserviceable ^ ImtSigiior
Battaglia appears to be a radical reformer, who, not content With adopt*
ing, borrowing, or devising new words, uses M ones in tiew seaaet,
with a boldness that we have not remarked in aty other Italiati %rrfter
of the day; as, for instance, to take one out of mtny, he constantly hm^
ploys the verb chiarire where we should have looked fol* dicHarate,
much as if we should substitute to clear for to declare, and say he was
cleared a rebel. Our criticism on language must, however, be <tf eooise
advanced with due defisrence to the iudgment of ItaKan critics.

The Scene letonchey the only one of these four works paUished aJDony^
monsly, is, as before intimated, n pmdnctton ay dtssimtlar in cbafader
to GiouannA Prima as to such an hiGtoric novel as Ivanhoe. It is, we
think, a betto* conceived species, and we shall be glad to see ntoie
Scenes, although Historic Portraits or Sketshes might have been a more

mpptopriaie tkfe^ fouAmcli as tbe namdeas au^or^s ^rapbie fcmtn far
tnmscend his dtamatic. He has selected for the subjects of his Sceim
ftfor biitolrical personages of tbe thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and
bfliB .ao painted or sketched them as to produce pictures illustrative of
their timea. These personages are a friar, a timitor« a bacon and a
pfiniaa*

The firat of these, the Iriar, bj nmae Frate GiBfttmnk^ a IlonioieaB^

w^ hate long copsidaTed as one of the most renaarkaWa asoral pheiKH

flienaof the'Middle Ages^ but, havuig no room for tbe particolaiv of hiir

kisaory, «^ arast refer our readers fbr the motives x>f. our admiration to

SismondVs able and interesting, though, to Use an American eplthet|

aotnewbat let^hy, history of the Italian repnblios* Here it will be

enough to say that, amidst the onbridled passtooe, the incessant wars,

privata and poMjc^ which distracted the petty republics and petty princi^

paiKtiea of itaty dinrtag tbe thirteenth century, Frate CHovanm went

•tent pmchlng peace and Christian charity^ and^ by the sheer. £ono6^

bte sacted etoquencoi ixnnpeiM the fiercest nobles, tbe most aanily de*

mocrsctes, the nott yimietit factions^ to make peace; and tlie womeo,

H M averred, to reform such parts of their toilets as offended the moral or

eoonoDolcal sense of their enthosiasttc monitor. But adequately to de**

Uaeate Frate GKovanni would require, beside a master*s hand, som^

pdttion, if but a smgle spark, of his own earnest eloqfoence ; and we have

anldtfasa our anonymous^ scene-painter, though by no means wanting- ia

ficnt, is skficient in dmmatic, and we may add, in oraterical, gleninsi

wliBicfwo this, the best chosen, is not tbe best executed, of his Seesaa.

It may be- aMed, that 'the drama or portraiture is inaompiete» Oar

author neither ex\)ibits to us tbe diange unfortunately brought in the

sticareisfnl pi«achev*8 mind by' the absolute authol'ity to which Hial sue4

ceaa elevated btm» nor tbe final result of his exertions, though we have

an intimation that the peace be effected was sbort*-iived. We speak not

tbiB as derogatoty to bis merits^ for, upon the admitted principle that

half a loaf is better than no bread, we allow tbe ahortest peace to be

better thaa nnintermpted war^ But there is a mean employed by tbe

fssor to«iect tbe peace, respecting which we are more dubious. He it

repvesented as peevaiiiog upon a lovesick maiden to sacrifice her psisian^

and matvy a9 iras rtquisite to obtain Iter fsmiiy's assent to tbe peaca|

and we think we are entitled to require of t^e author who aoquaints itt

wHfa this faazardons experiment that he should inform us of its result;

and^ if the enamoured Italian's virtue chanced to fail in tbe loog^enduring

trial to which the entfansiastic friar exposed it, that he should further

inform us whether Frate Giovanni felt remorse for having driven a Arail

MIow-creatnra into temptation, or rested content i^nmi the rectitude of

hk intentions.

We turn foam Un Droit to another Scenn, less intrinsically interesting^
bnt highly characteristic of the times, and in which the author has been
for noire succtesfol-^we mean Un Bmxme, in which we are presented
with the death of one of the lawless robber**baroos of tbe Middle Ages.
As there is no story, we need give Jittle more than extracts.

** During the first half of the finirteenth century, the Lord of the CasHt of

4H Jt^iim ^t»«li.

Pietramala, and head of the pat«nt faxaih of the TarhoL vnnithe UmJU^^ Wer

Saccbnip', a Iteen partizah in the political tactions of the Tuscaa to?pu» a fipvs

ShibelTine, and the most formioable of the couotfv nohl^. those perp^laal

enemies of the free communities. * ^ f. A dariog, indefatigable captain, Pier

Saccone was likewise the most sagacious contriver of stcat9geni9 and' aor-

]^s^Sy itid the most dexterous leader' of a slcirmish.' At upwards of nmeij

years of age, he still fought satlantty on horseback' at tho hesMi of his aoUiexs,

despising the iniclemeucy of the seasooi the hardships of a camp; he wiyild

tide4d|iK md day 10 ackuoveii tuifnise^ or to ravage add pilbge-aR cneiby's

dofiM^aa*

• • •

*' Pier Saccone had now completed hia ninety-sixth yeai^y aod at 0Bfi ad -
vanced age suffered from no maladv^ po infirmity* Uis bodily vigour aaaiacd
to be invincible, but his spirit to be enfeebled^ hi$ indomitable ffn&tgy to be
foiling. lie seldom'quitted the family rooms, no longer yiaited his^ horsai^ ii»
lobger heeded his own weapons, or took, care that his loot^Idi^iy aA<frmeik al
armr; who swarmed at Pietrantalai kept theirs in proper C|^r.

seldonv and then harshly and abruptly; society, ^ei^ that of. hia aons, aoiiftid
irksome to him^ and he no lopger. smiled at the saUiie% of hi^. iM- . ^Mg Ar-
righetto di San Paolo, the moat trusty mipi^ie;' of his atrataganmj, ^KBfn^j||^
proved and wary master of mititar^f guile, was always peri^iMed. to. he#c Ma
compatiy. This sudden chauj^e/^t.his adv^a)Ged 9^4, was cQiiaidaitd «s » aore
sign of approaching death.* •

/^ In the castk of Pietramala these was a spacious hall, in which thi^ Tailatfi
family was woot to assemble, where guests weio received and baiK|iiata hM^
a^d where, after the tables were drawn, the iniaa^ pf the oaatle paM^d lk(t
long V' inter evenings together, vtardiog off liMl^^ssnoss by aiDfmg^fii^h Qr.awM
nkore serious oocupation. Here, for.ihe moat part, :wh4LBJL Uie Jad^ bwod
themselves with eipbroidery. the men formed a circle round the iin.mfBse
hearth, telHng Mones, laughing and shouting at sonie jest of the foofs^ oyr
boaitittg each of h» own feats <^ arms.

> .• . I . ' ' a • •'

^ On iher 15th of Fehruajy. tB66, the snow f^H fast upon the Appenlnes^
and thh iohibitattts of Pietramala se(sm^^ to be ^ank in lediai^ despondeacv.
Pikat SaocoBe sat before the fira in a vast ann-ohatr; Arrigfaetto di ^au IM9
stood beside him» aud the wifis of Marco Tarlati, 4fa» eMest aon, «as aesaid «
little farther off, by a window. The writikled fiioe of the agedBaioo mm pda^
his bending body leant heavily against his iphair, iiis bald fonahead buag.loir*
ikoi from under his bushy grey eyebrows was seen the glitter of hia flashing
eyes — they were closed. • * • Suddenly Pier Saccone raised his heavyeyes,
ttirhed them first to the window, then to Arriehetto, sighed, and said, < What i^
miserable day I What a melancholy^ intolemme winter! I feel the frost in my
very bonesri '

"^ My Lord,' replied Amgheito, 'after the snow will come sunshine; after
wtafer^ ipHng; ana yon wiH bli stout again.'

^'^^•Stout again r rejoined the surly old lifian, asifdflTehded at words* that
denoted a suspicion of his debility. * Stout againi Dost think me enfeebled
beoabsa i remain iOttttig here? • • * But this year's snow is quite intolera-
blew ♦ * • Cbaiei Arrighatto^ come, say something to cheer me/

** < I waa tbhiliifig, Measer Piero,' said Arrighetto, * that this snow, which
so j^qpyV-T^Uy. would b$ nighty useful lo any.ooe.wh* hada'sarpribeto
attempt ) for i|[» thi$ jough weather eve^ .mouse wHl beio^hts hday faleep and
unsuspicious: and how softly softly, the jsoldier^ would tread .on jihe snow»
uiili'^drd', and tie in the nest before a soul was aware 0/ theou' <• .. - ^ \* ,

JfOidn Vr&oek. aH

smile.' *B6t thou sayest xveW; I know bovr WU ihou 9a;^(i for, herein i^
gff^ «lRte(^ broodiikg/ and lie p6iDte4 Iq Uis forehead* ,.,.,-

' ** He tried (o tise, buf, finding it dlQciiU, called toliis 4au^^tel;$p-^w to
^vt hitb some comforting drink. Having dfrained a large pitchec qf pi\c8,
Mewitieptitciano, (un Italian wii^e,} he appeare4. to recover lus npilu^ral yfirzuth/*

. .'tfi^ tbe aid of Anidtelto^ 9ntf,ti^4rpo^piimg\^ettnt^
a waU through his castle, rating his troopers by the way for iheir neg-
lect of their unfurbished arms, and Reaches hil stables.

^ There he patted and caressed the prond front and ample cHest of his.
lavCMiTlte «harge)r, w!)o neighed for joy on recognizing his inaomitabte ridisr.
♦ ♦ • Btot, as he left the stables, the over- wearied, old man fainted ip the arms
of Attfgliettb aad hii spns, who carried liim baictc to his ann-clwur by tjie Kajll!
Hw. •' • ♦ All suTToimded him; the sons supporting. their father's ueaJl, the
da(«glhte^ln-)a#batMtigiri8 temples with spirits, t)ie chaplain feeling; his pulsje^
and swaititog (he i^fctartt of his senses, to offer the oM lord, spiritual comtbrtsr^

^ Eesc and heat gradnatty revived ttie aged Gbihejtine; tjttle by littlejlie
ojitned liieeyes, roHed them slowly arouad, and perceived Whefe Ite wa^,antl;
how atixioiisfy liis children' and friends -were tend mg, him. At ^^st'he lookeil
vpon 4bem aneotionately; bat to this kindly etnotion supc^ded irrnatipti'at tlie'
consciousness that life was fiiiling within bimy an(L that thbs4 >l^h6 sunr6unded

who afs little thinking of him.' But another diranght 6f Monteputci^ho^ ^^<^p/
to M daughter-in-law, ^ for I l^mrlstfll very cfold? * \^

Old Tarlatl now dismisses all bunils.chtesit.faopfj jVIai:co,n95;:9uU),wei
sbould imagine, and Arrlghettb, to whoiu.6e^.y!P^ jjs^^iicljoiw iffff-smth.
prising, according to the syggestiona ojf the lalter, a castle belonging to
the Bishop of Arezzo^ tbat.^f:^aU».beJi^ q^ t,h^ ^o(^ilff:,ffiniily of the
UWrtini. Marco obeys y ^d» accoi^pw^^ % -AlJfi^iQllAiltfSaii ButAoi
leadi forih hi« ba^d^no one knowa whither, -^"be olthbanm Tefbsm^
to g» -to bcdy the bousebold sH tip; «tidy as the ifight wears away^ the'
inyatient phmtter of the enterprree despatclies messenger after n^esscnget^
indvding hia siecond son, Lancilotto, to lb<>h ont for ^ding^ 6( the secret
ejcpedftion. At length— .,....,. ..,:;<

^ Uie doors of t)ie hall opened, and the two sons ^CPiejC Saccona i?n|9Q9d.i*. f ^
Marqo Tarlati was pale, and humblvhe ^vapced.io^iy^aij^f bMT/wn^ul |»arent»
seemingly not daring to Took up at him. Beatrice was advancing to ejoibiace
her hnsband;, but, seeing. him in such ^videfttdistc^^jiahl^a^p^i HqlC-way,
confounded and disheartened. Amj4st th^ sil^i^oefm44iCOOfiwipB(.^f<<a1|. ffl^f^
sent| Pier Saccone raised hi^ haughty ;rroni,^d,¥^i4ir'*«Marea,^'lj&oii<ji^
a conqueror, why comest thou, npt to iiy father'^ -af pas 3*" s-, " .("»•'••' '; [-►i-.t of

^* Marco advanced a step, then paused, «sUivperpJ/fxityafA4fi«cli<y]v<<£^
Saccone now looked at him ^qk st^pjv^ tbani4ii;o|^pmg,^ h^.^d««](tetid6dt
arms, said, with a iigh^ ' 1 ijnierstyid^thoui co^ I • *

taibci/Caitol ds arts«>/bad f rhded^f^ne^^ MroWgly^rafHftQfi^d'Yfiato
was. anfticipaledv bkamm tbv m>«f«ifd blslu)j!y. d^ ttbj^i'th'i^^'^'

baUygf^-'heiidM Manc^ and Ivmic7l6tWXarl(li'rt;was J)relp|v^
by Pier Saccone'a expected death*.

VOL. XVII. NO. XXXIV. K K

47B Italian NiHMb,

** In accents faltering with rage, the bwon vesMMdl t *T1i^ UlKitiMi lacre
tfien triomphed orer the Tariati r

^ Marco, now taking heart, reptied: * Father, we iMUMl then twiMbli o«r
nambers, and were repulsed.'

" * And Anighetto, where is her resumed the old mao« * Would he hide
^is shame from mef

^ ^ Arrichetto !' — Marco began, but dared nol co on : Pier Saccone insisted.

" * Well; what of Arrighetto?. Where is he ?

** ' Arrighetto/ said Marco, in unsteady accents, ' was slain in the ftfiray/

*' * Arrighetto slain !* yelled Pier Saccone, in a choking voScei * and Chon
returnest alive to Pietramala?* • • • Suddenly he bowed down his bead,
inwaiidly and moaningly mnrmuring, ' Woe*s me! The hommr of the Tariali
19 govef Woe's me !'

'< This said, his frame appeared to be nervously conrulsed, and, with a vio*
lent and universal shudder, the dissatisfied veteran folded his arms upon his
breast, remaining silent and motionless as a corse, and giving no other sign of
life than the breath which painfully heaved his bent chest. ♦ • • AH present
fancied him dead; and Marco accused himself as the catise of his fhtbef^
death. * • • The priest attempted to feel &e baron's pulse, but he snalched
away his arm, hollowly but wrathfeUy uttering, ' Away, all of ywi I Lei me
not have eo many witnesses of the Tarlati's smtme. Awayl'

^ All withdrew, save the sons, the daughtei^n4aw, and the dianfeiii^ vHift
remained at a distance, watching the old baron, as he sank into bis firmer
silent immobility. • * * The chaplain drew near, and saw that he slepL • • •
At length, Marco softly approached his father. He stooped down to look at
him, and saw his eyes no longer closed in sleep, but wide open, fixed, extin-
gnished. His shriek called his brother, his wife, and the chaplain to his side.
Pier Saccone was dead l**

We now come to the works which we acknowledge as legitimate his-
toric novels i and for one of these, £a Madonna d* Imbeverc^ a few words
will suffice, although its author, Cesare CantCl^is both a writer of decided
talem and one of our Italian brethren. Let not the reader however
suppose that, in revealing this fact, we are betraying the disclosure of
confidential intimacy; we know no more of Cesare Cantd than any
reader of the Raccoglitore may ; for be it known to the British public,
that Italian reviewers censure not and praise not incognitOj but more
frequently sign their articles than put them forth anonymously. La
Madonna d' Imbevere is a short feudal tale, designed, it should seem, to
explain the origin of a merry-making, still annually held in honour of
the Blessed Virgin, on a certain day of September, in the neighbonrhood
of a sylvan chapel, consecrated to her as Our Lady of Imbevere. It is a
pretty and interesting but very slight tale, displays most of the faults
of continental feudal tales — of which we are about to speak more at
large — and affords little or no picture of the manners of the age. It
might almost induce a suspicion that Signor CantC^, our esteemed bro-
ther, has not studied the character of the times that he professes to ddi-
neate very assiduously, certainly not con atnore.

La Baitaglia di Beneocnto is a work of lofiier pretensions ; and its
author. Dr. Gueraazi, appears to possess in a very considerable degree
the power, one of the most essential to a novdist, of giving ta iodiTidaal
reality to his characters, as he oonoeivea them, and in like mamie^ Ip his
scenes, although neither are touched off so succinctly and draaialicaUy

Italian Noveh* 470 .

as to1)e> isibe taste of the present day, ^trikiog. Still we think that
I>r. Gneraan, like Cesare Cantii, if he will endcavoar to oonect ihoaa'
fatilts wfaieb, thengh seemiogly iuberent in^ are, we tniat, not inae|Hra«
ble from, the continental school of the historical novel> may prove aa
saccessfol an historical novelist as any of his now living and aoti^ oom-
peftitors.

The faults to which we allude are, — 1st, The taking an unfair view
of the tsmes meant to be depicted, by omitting, we apprehend not seeing,
tbe good that mingled with and relieved the undeniable evila of fea-
dalimi} 2dly, An exaggerattoo of everything, faults^ virtues, manneriy
feelings, charaeter, and especially energies,* almost amonnting to oari»
cature 3 3dly, A minuteness in describing and dwelling «pon the matwkl
of the age, carried to such an excess, that these deeeriptions» irtsfeatf of
merely fhrnishing tbe scenery and costume of the drama, tbe back'-gnmnd
of an historical piece, assimilate tbe novel to a still-life picture, with a
few figures superadded ; 4tbly, A sort of baldness, a want of poetry, of
imaginativeoess and idealizing in tbe dialogue, and even in tbe conduct
of ihe personages -^a faulty by the way, which is yet more strikiog in
modem Italian comedy; — and, lastly, a strange deficteocy in the higb
tone of moral feeling which renders fiction, that is not professediy
didactic, instructive, and often a valnable instrument in the great work
of tbe cultivation of tbe human heart.

Turn we now from this consideration of tbe school in general to Dr.
Guerazu, who, by tbe above-enumerated faults, grievously deteriorates
tbe effect of bis real talents. A very brief statement of tbe story* or
rather of the nature of the story, of La Battaglia di Benevento, with a few
extracts from one scene, will, we think, sufficiently illustrate both the
merits and demerits of tbe novel, and with these we shall, for the pre*
sent, take our leav^ of tbe living novelist^ of Italy.

The portion of history selected by Dr. Guerazzi is one replete with
political and romantic interest, namely, tbe overthrow of Manfred, King
of the Two Sicilies, tbe legitimated son of tbe Emperor Frederic II., by
a combination of domestic treachery with unjust foreign invasion.
Manfred has been most oppositely depicted by Ghibelllne and Ouelph
historians, and our novelist aspires to blend and temper these opposites
into one romantic whole ; be adopts almost every atrocious accusation
brought against Manfred by his Guelph revilers, including parricide and
fratricide, merely softening down tbe charge of incestuous adultery into
a simple matter of crtfli. con, ; whilst be, at the same time, invests him
with tbe Ghibelllne halo of geuius, refinement, and heroism, exhibiting
him as a great and good man, steadily and resolutely struggling against
tbe flood of overwhelming calamity, and, what is perhaps yet more
morally anomalous, as an excellent and idolized husband and father.
The love-tale superadded to, and well interwoven with, the cabals and
treasons that enabled Charles of Anjou to conquer Manfred, ts the pas-^
sion of tbe Swabian- Sicilian monarches foundling, or at least nameless
page, Itogiefo^ for his daughter, tbe PVinfcess Yofe. 'fbe page proves,

* M. dt Bsttac makes an ftrni3' mareli night and day, an effort <hSf we tfifnk even
Napoleon would htnSly bare required without poat*bonei and 'carriages* *

K K 2

4i80 Itaiihn Nun^hy.

ill tlie tAiU to be'n nattihll son of the royai L(yllkaHo/1MiittfM|b]rife
deceased Countess. of Caserta, and to Lave been reared ti^^ Hie oaingerf
biislNW^ wi|h the, fiepdHbly vindictive purpose of making ^e aoq tbe
ioslNiniept'Qf Uis .revenge upon tbe fatber; in wbich,.tb(S cpunt^ f ar
smdofids, that Rg^iem i^ duped into: beqonupg the wiUiiig'meijRiiJqi.Qf
eommmiicatioii between tbe tcaitofoas nobles and Charles of Al9Q4»
tbbiigb; beiog afterwanis pattiaUy nndeeeiytd, he figWsaliCMltif.fer the
fatbisr of his beloved Yde. Oi such a story itisneedleas.to tafr-tibai
tbe catastrophe is dearth^ tlmugh it may not be so snperfluoiisrio relieve
tbe reader 'from any apprehension of unconsciously guHty biappititss' io
tbe loves of tbe half-brother and. sister, Rogiero and , Vote ;' Manircd
once indeed takes their bands to unite them ', < Dut| struck, by 6cmte4inex-
||liilnisd>:Miog* (Changes .bis fni^d^.a]()4 ieUs tb^ their u^iop i(8.i|i^-
ssUew iWe.WiUtuaw^ve U)f^vpiroi|»isj^>^xtractu tbgvgjbi,^;f;liaFai9fte;i;4f
Oii>r'Doet«T?sjwrllUig is lU «da)M»d «o:ber/afinri6ted .by.#x^c«et$,i, .The
H^et^, Wliich'> i\^ select isbali ethibft MaafreVs remoHc^ andjUi ^kmtacU^
7n ]^'6nl<^ Miei^bdiiits^ w rathef Gneras^rs management of tfaeir^exkibitian*

" Manfred— I know not whether he were viiluous---he%as/g;riftati' 'l!)lsio-
)^trit^;qf powK^llw his faUieii's sin, he had devoted bis .evei;y ^otigbt to a^quiit
PQf ^T^bet.w^ hiS|hap4 and ilie sceptre were fovr live^^atl'^ftcr^ C^ather^
Ijia^ew,;Bkepheiw)i,h9.b^d put <br(h his hand and grasped jt;;»

*' Alone, m a spacious apartment adorned with the emgi^ Ofu^Torak^iers,
Manfred sat upon a Saracenic couch, his face buried m%'^ \)mowif-^bQt
fcfi kW^htXMfumtA i»akling.stai3t,;^enH<Mld ap(ie«lrl6 bejfjil0«9.i^*';5ii^^ Noi^ he
Maaiimpetmialy, 4c|k«a a.«oupjfi7/of ^trid?s,.jjft4' pa^R??r-^f• PWts ^if .qg^t
hand upon th^.iaMs^ra^tft .bis -weight uppn,4heJeCbJ|^,acr9SS^^^ \if tnn)v$
the riglU, resting the extremity of tne foot upon the pavement*-— his eyes'* are
flx0() fiimo^ofy 'D^hf the'^rbutld-^h^ )^^ ^veviof j^-the Uoodl pUM orer
his fWce lik^a 8^a-it^e,"^lie^ce n6^ it tipp^avs ^dti^^fke^ il(iw<^diNd^-pi^
Tie ttit^ns iti' terrcfi^-^^traiu? his ^aze on that p4rt oftlii^cbambeiiivlikb ibe ad*
y^r lamp upon the table scantifyilKimH^s> and 'prep«lr^'lbb'ftigli|;tb«d| call-
ing lip J^^ (courage; iie'advanc^s-^ecoils^ashes despeHttdf forw^iQ^ and
tbudh^^ iM bbject' of hi^ alarA). It shoald seem that4he indi0|iBee light, ta te
excited, iroa|[iyiat;on,id6nverted all objects inlo1tisat>ponfilbte phttiftiafiyi;^ " '

The king extinguishes tbe lamp, and a dreadful thunder-atoc^^ffrisfss^***

}.o ik^ A^ria^ ^lightkifbg^ihe isyea ofMuufwdmr er omonscioiadjf !«amed>ibivaads

th^'pbftraif'^r bfs -fothttv FrMedc. The t^ light aeeaistb kindle the Ipalure

lyith momentary life : the eyes roll, ghstening in blood ; the lips movo'lbitfliaaRfc

'of: Hit:: W^er 16 M«nfM hid that visibtt lasiad •'Um^ than ibv? flaab>^his

bhiittnlUSJllia^feituftted/htelieaPlb^bhrst. ♦ *'• {./',.; - . . -

o "^ A'-^iiVM^eMe tipona lafesoetHiugly readied his eans. liiahovllie^iicd

it not. • • • The tones were accompanied by a voice melodioila?MA(iae»et

sadness; — it awoke all the bland recollections, all the soft afikliona^dUt'dweh

tSil'Jn«^^^^MtiiiiMr(la6haulstoivly)ianfcmtoft5s)btf^^ ^'« «

** In a remote apartment Queen Helena, kmifg disnifHied'fiser iadses^iaat
with her. children, Yol^ arid Maufi^dirioi: ^\B|l«[ther ibeyivid fiisyad/lbr par-
don and for peace; a«d>'ari60ittorib6its'endedvtbe«iwiii''iii^ W«»« The
'h6Hl«Hd€ua coheeUaa^hdr senseof the maiispioites(oiiM/b, and pMii% strove
\M Idbdouhiige Yole^Twho^ clung 'to herycaid' nbei boy Afete^redsmiy ^o, faaiM <m

.f ,T Js. >\o^ l!'*^ *??'^ of Uiii ^viCMPtiou ckaractcrislic of a nnllon in wliidi the sapliic
* Ws Sign prt-chnnrfit i^ • ' >' '* \ {11 «f • >:iOu,fur,e ^ff^

a 4lop|j sXMf.S^, had.D^fed om «^ hec haods over bi^ cy^,;tM,|)^ lij^jf^^l

*? *V4^^r <>P^s, and iTie eyes of all three are fixecl upon the spbt— Miftwtf;
abpear^'ctad, contrary to his custom of a! ways *we<iting ^teen, ia blfei6kl'ta4*l|i
^ tWrf Tita person is lost in <he equally black void of the open! d«rf; . Ili»^fiu»-
wfts fli^rdbfed Md pdile; Ms hah sfoodoa «od;tli^eyelMiM9gtefHlriiinna7aiM49»^
MtdM%h# iMrtribl^ diilattd iMiite of tbc eye; hs seined i^ia und^lh^ in^fH
0 ofia frigMiliiisain. ' Wkfa loud dbrieks, hi9<ch|tdrei^df«adiDg tbat^iuei
M cfdiswtybtid .Mallentem^rluJli9d towards ^^^^

<' ^J[,ffi^4efeod pay^elfl' .excJAimed Manfred. ' Would ypu assassinate ^ourj

fiO^i^l^i' 7?/ Is it for yo^ to condoro;! me? Crijye expiates not crjm^.^

Atust venseance be eternalin my house ?'

^ ' Pather ! llusband f Father!'

/• . ' • •, |> • (M,

^•tWese Wdrd5 must indeed be powerful ^tt *e heart bf rban*^J«ceithey»hifci[
M7Je't^^i'^t^rivr&fifM fVom Msftgo^f bf te¥tori and «)a1ie>HftUteltt)&us inftiii
a^cter^M^ninify. - Ltttl9M4MiiMiifo;hadeliiipM 4ii£itili«g<teikiiei»liW
Ydte>1idi^>clasi»d Qse inmd^ wlikhjhi/coT^rfld jvvtili»l(»«Mc)«n4/i^^^/P^^
w«)idtiKxii9.m}»itP*h«r.b9toiiirM la:«< wfiM»e;^W;. .Pvra)oifyfir^,3#^
fondness,, he raia^ and kissed his child ren« then fiew into jme^arms of his
affei&ewlfe, :/•'•' •:'•'■ /^ f ^-"-i^^

" When he had thus tasted the cup of jdy^^ Manfred said, j'lnYrtithlbe!leve<
ye deair ones, that fktc sends me anjfuish, in orde^ Aat 1 may iftex'Wafds'lflet
briate-my^lf with your cari^sses. But' heard 1 not nlusic'tier^?" I'ckiii^'roW
809thea^»^>*rniony/'* . ' • , - . ^ :- l .u ,..iorA -

YoM^ngs'avtelMictidy ballad ^' tiben Manfred siiig^-fniflipr^visaii wf
b^celv^— ^ncf of rrittie^ ^ioailar to his Wt^> dtid di^ps (^xiiinRiteidcintQia
seat. ' llis ^ife &nd cbiljreh endrdfe him in loving sifenie; • ' • i" »• « i

'^ hkm lui^ook at tb^'doQf recalled t^m./&rpm thistp^niul 'skat(?. . Maafi^
niqtioi<ed, «iHUv. his .right hand, t^liis fiipftily. to iKs^Moe (he^t (fta^eib P^^^d l^jf

sltoied«0T^]liajestyy he said^ in a steady voice: ; „::u. .;. uJ t,

<* .'.Coma ii\,*n+How, te it you^JUberico ?' headded,,f|eeiflglhfi ;Aastbt^f ^be

Qtqttiretfi Wbo^. printing his M^ at the half-opened .d^Qv.si^^^ed; 41^1^f;b^^

of fufth«ff«9flourag0maiU( to enter-r-' Come in boldly, iSir Aiber^9Q/,. ,

** * Sir King/ said the roaster, coming forward, and bowing found' to tlie

TOytf''-falttMyi-i--'-' . ..'.. . ,.. < 11.: •, - ,.. I'u" J- 0 .' '-.J ':! !'

. "^^JMelVAlbefM^vlHAis the mMt^r? What jwoukiiyi^tt ?' :i#fld||lA°^^
in.Uad^aocBDbi, iorihe now fisit Uie necessity oC 4ef«fing theiatVaclkQM^pt..f/
liia>feHoWBi9* < ■ . , . .".• J . •.•( .-• ,i» .;

'^ ^:Sir Ktog^a knight has presented himself at the i^ave^gai^s^iv^ho ea^qfs|)y
desires to speak with yourOrace. I told him 4hi4 ftv^s.ffo Jitti«tf ^Wl. t/?.i^
.vMFificmi -but Ihe.isitsts, aMef^iog that hie bimoess .i9< .urgent), «vta. MnpoiAing
< life 'anA .'death/- •.•'•.. •. x^ -i.-i''''* - • ...,. n

'<'^ HawilirMlbtr tell it,.oQr elKm.4iia ft^frc be is Mpladiirr. iWc^iKmoifrf
-jjul^fatett wiiwjBap9B»0f ofienot.' . .- '/ :".' i ■>".»:!'•'., n I '»

f < Wb9/«sl^A;yt)Ut«i bia;weapon9^:< Wbor^jiihe?*!.^ / ,fir:.".' > ^-^r .iii//
." 'Inm^^iMrtmeBits^itba^ho.migkt'^tlMJesft.s^f^ i.j [,„>: nuU

^^* HeWaa^ Yole,.M«i»fc6dioO|teeiye vrelW^.said IRflanfved* . .^Xft^ieaniii^t
tli^giofy ofa thcoabeeots^ It cfahnji aven^ttie'frw happdr/mibM^'Whidlii^fHQr
other nan may enjoy to-satiety in the bosom of hia family/ ''

Tbe suinniocs is froin a knight (Rdgiero), ^ho,' u^fii»^^^

4M liaiian Na$eli.

comes to reveal a plot> asd condoct the king lo sui-prise Uie coaiphiMrs.
To this agreeable avocatioD, however unkingly In oar eyt9^ Mtaftwetl dedi-
eates the remainder of the night, and fails, inasmuch as the eonspireton
understand their business^ and have means of escape vndreamt of hj
Hogieio. And it was necessary that they should thus eicape, or Manfred,
contrary to history, must have remained King of the Two SiclUea. The
scene of their escape, and R<^iero'$ disappotntmeat, ia dramatic enoftgh ;
90 h a subsequent one, when the ringleaders boldly attend tiie coaodl
summoned to consider of the means of diacavt rlog the untoovm eon-
splrators. But, as before said, and as shown In the pneee#hi^ i^tract,
<$tterazz! produces his effect by such numerous small touishet. In the
obsolete Richardson style, as give incredible teallty to bfs personage^ but
are most unfavourable for extracting. Besides wh)ch» we b^ve already
given to this group of Italian historical novefista all the sfMce wt.had
attoltedt and can spare Aem.

■ ilimi I I I I i

Art. XL — De Piutis it Napk$, itudes de Mceun^ de Mmim^ ei ^Jtri.
Par A. Jal, Chef de la Section Historique au Miniature de la Marine.
Paris. iHllardir). 1836. 2 vohi. 8vo.

M. Jal professes to have ** la monomame marUima;'^ in &Gtt hia |ire«
dominating passion is for anything naval. No speotadei to kiaik ieto
be comparea with the sea and the vessels which sail over it; n» cere-
mony IS so attractive as a launch ; though an ardent admirer of the
fine arts in general, no picture is so interesting as that which repre-
aenta a ship, or a port, or a sea-fight; his antiquarianism is employed
upon the same objects, and the figure of an ancient hull, the descrip-
tion of the rigging of a Genoese man-of-war in the days of herre-
pubUc» an old Venetian gondola new-painted* are things not to be
paaaed over. The sea and the coast guide him in the choke of his
route, and, when he arrives at a port-town, the s{x>t at which ne find
him eommencing his operations is invanaUy the quay. Witb every
one, therefore, who has the monamanie maritime^ or any tendency that
way, this book will be an especial favourite. But the merits of the
tour of M. Jhlfrom Paris to Naples are by no means confined wijdiin
BO narrow limits — as an artist, and as an artist of no little taste and
judgment, jiain tings and buildings and nature all come under his ob-
servation. People and their manners are by no means ae|^cted» aor
does our traveller disdain to admit into a corner of his joufaaL the iaas
at which he atopped, the hosts who governed them, or the ohear which
be feand there.

Indeed these latter are bv no means untnteresting peims ia a tra-
veller's memorial, for they will generally furnish us with a key to his
feelings and his humour, at certain times when he may show more than
usual complacency or peevishness, almost as infallibly as the weather-
cock points out the direction of the wind. Many a hearty John Bull
have we known, whose sudden passion for foreign adventure has been
ftii>di» whahaa aetuaUy beea driven back at race fsom hia eaterprise,

Jal^s Tour fivm Parin to Napla. 403

«iboba»retraited witb ftlkn crett, at tbe firsl dish wbidi, the, to him^
ntm worldf bat offered him* Nat that we think the gaiety of a
Fcenebman would be damped ao easily, or by such a cause. M. Jal»
indeed, furnishes us with a signal example of the contrary, as tl^e few
extracts which we intend to give will abundantly prove.

M. Jal, attracted, as we have already stated, by the sea, entered
Italy by Toulon and Monaco, We cannot follow him tbreugbr but
vre will not pass the former name witliout casting & glance at the vi\^
lajge olXift Garde, its pig-stieaand its traditions. The grunting of the
inmates, of tbe fosmer of these attributes will be more familiar to the
man of our English readers — we say Engiieht because our journal
kself is a most extensive tyaveller--*than, apparently, to those of
iAm Jal, We give this passage, also, as a &ir specimen of his general
style, ^f his pleasant method of mixing pictures of the present with
fiis souvenirs of the past — of his happy assemblages of views and por«
traitures and legends.

** La Oarde is a miseraUe- viHage, bmlt on a rock which commands the
pUuD, the ancient domain of the barony of this name. From the top of this
aodi, wheare ate the nrins moderately carious of the casde and of the dmrch,
. we have a view whisb extends to tbe sea, and which nossesses the severe
beauties of a tolerably grand style. The rahabitants ot this place are poor
and dirty, Ood knows! They ground all the annual prospect of their kitchen
0^ Ihe forced 'fiitness of a pig, which each of them breeds m a Ihtle nook, that
ibe peor oaima) cawiset leave. There Is nothing mere singular than Mi mul-
tiMe of iittte sties receiving liglit aed air from the top, like pits, and almost
air made in the ceUars or other low constructions of the ancient castle or of the
booses which depended upon it. These nnmeroas piggeries, almost unper-
ceived, and commonly revealed to those who pass by the grunting of tneir
tenants, give to La Garde a peculiar character of its own.

The barony of La Garde belonged to the sister of the Marquis of Argens.
The gentleman philosopher died there; the poor baroness was less ibrtnnatel
She had frequent discussions with her brother on the subject of the opinions
which he labomed to propagate, and of whose terrible consequences she had
presendments. * You will end, you and your M. de Voltaire, by bringing
some sedition upon us ; one day our peasants will refuse us tbe tithes, and the
tieat day they will dispossess us.' * Bah !' replied the marquis, ' you axe alsniys
in fear! The present state of things will last as long as we shall/ It did, m
fed, last as long as he did ; be died in the bed of his ancestors; the bells of the
chapel tolled at his funeral; his eulogy was pronounced over him; atl the

Smlemen and peasants of the barony followed his body to its last home ; but
e baroness or La Garde had prophesied accurately. During the period of
Xetvor, she was dispossessed ; her goods were eonftseated, and she was merci-
lal^ aUo««d to go, eld, poor, and deserted, to die in an hospital, where nnb-
lardmrily paid ibr her bed and her aooderate pittance! The renembrtuceof this
drcnmstance Tendered me sad when I visited the remains of the eaaHe ; an-
ethes traditioii caaM to enliven me. This legend is one of which the inhabi-
tants are yet vauu They related it to me as follows. Like all the castles of the
country, that of La Garde was built to defend the land against the incursions of
the Saracens; oden attacked, it always tired out the coostancv of the besiegers.
The bravery of the inhabitants saved them from slavery; but once It #as to
the presence of mind ^ one of themselves that they owed their saiky. Sor-
ffounded for several days, dosely praised by a miraeroas army wfaidr had
vqa^ tiied lo' scak tbe wattSrLaG«dewaivpo»*epoimetsuiie«deting

484 Jal'i T^' j^tom Adli io Uuple$^. '

for yt9nio('\i€0>imwi. Jl«ing)e«ilfte«^ tfaiit tt^s'lMbfimtJlie
was scaroQly eooiigb.loR a ^afflgle.LRpail; whdLtiiwtfi.'^jBS doBefl A uMtr-
coDtrived a tttrabigeaM ' he oimsdlatioCie te.l^jivffilttn int imammum&mbaifjm
follows : * Vou waikt sUengtii feoMake ua; perkapr it la jqn%MV' niwiii wM^csis
you.; here is whenwith Xq ceciteit it J&rery ttTomiagiMe wiliihienr out<fiir joa
so muck pfovtsiond, fot we will -eaiy owe lo fiod, 'tQ.i|liB'\^Bgiii»«aiHito owr
coiiiagei ftudooc lo your Mititfg, our suecMsin tlro'a|ijigJst8tMig9lef^ni''^riddb
you. h<ive eii|^ge4 us/ Thts letter ivas atleobcd to: tbe'oe^ -nit tit eal^ iriRfa.
was Iforown down to the Saraceos hwnAhe ratapf rt; ' Hwe fattfaf^ ^laoemdiiif
the stratagem,. aod despairing. of vedociig-'a lAacK'-whieh paiirod Mvhaaiipie
provieioos^ raised (he siege and left «the oouBtii)rif'*-4^ob^uip.'8f -*«90. < . - >< < ^

We liafe not roont to acconrrfaojf M. Ja! throt^gh Wft jotitney; ' Ohe
of hfs Hht 8«f tioCilr annoyances Vas ttiie po^t-liouse at tie tuc rf ot tlia t
the house Was 4>siagi'eeable:' tbe, l^ps^ w^s' au/ex^jBfipIe ror^Lbo^ts;
the , iJtin^v ,^ppe&xB ,to have .(><?eu iqost W^^f^^^Wy; , fhv \%i^x^isrry-»
Frea(^nE^n--;Ws for po^ treM^4 V^tQo.niucK^Jilgiilg*/ i> ^

'^Wben'Ijetttraeditethe'hokd of M/iJourdKi,'! JbMPWinbt^^wlfiit fjT'WM
in tlie ears of its inmates, but they did nothing but sidgjt it^tvasiM nisii|iport^

place. }^«^iQUS;/|onga; ,a gkl>vljf>j,^as^ashiftgi;ih«t ffeU^ lMit>iikft:hadjftrta*:
nately a very correct and very pleasi^g.^VQiott^ '.Vf^^s^gMi^Kf^Woftlthf^
operas-coroiques ; a countryman was sin^^ng ; Madame Jourdan was hum-
mi ng ; :the little ' Joulda[t> was- also IsaylAg* fats ^ong* '^- butf sAl <tha^ -«^ > no^otg; ;
what was mostaitiii^yin^ xnKs'i Kutidloiil^ «otige«er v(M a' t^tirible viVfde and
great pretQiMions, With his. trilKiAgs «ad -M eadebt)e§^, and \\hs gt^t' hamts bf
voice, ft GtBOcoki-torikMU-^iH^^eut^ t^o )lli96Shvl^6d 'till he wa4 out ' of breath.
Ifwehad'tiot4)e)ea already overedmdwUh'eArraiV Al(^<rirs ^boitokiaMe-gttieCy
wo«hi^bflveiibee» en4uj|^h't^iaake'US'cMwtt¥lgfat dtflr 'We str^fottf^, for IWa
hourky^HB crms^ilra bf alr^ and VdudeVilles/and b|^ra^ hi^al^to>i^aBd'rn bH
movementa, sua^ false or teorveety-^-^'dfii>iiabolieelenobgh ticyhsrtediHv^n^way
a sentmel, a iMRggar, or a love^ che^hroe 1cit)d8' of ''itieti'Wii6 Wv^ iAoit U^teed
with patience and resignation." — vol. i. p. 102. • '^ •♦- • - ' ' . '

'M,,J0^^ i^ff*lA:»L\iti culsed'fthe' to^ir^^ind vavieaiiiifitd; ■ We.paia
over^be vivi4.4eaerit»uon of xlW. unJhTiting '< pnblk'* Wbitah'he.^nnl
at the village of Estrelle the following n)oniti%»'M)id of. tlieili^g«h»
officiated as hostess^ to tell the horrors of a; br.^l^f9^t j^t Ment^n^ia
tlie little st4te of Monaco. ■, ; . : ... -u-.;.- .'> .

"' While the/<4CcAMK)( were putiiag the baggage on. the cbacfa^'m wete plicfldl
at the.mfl|9( singular^ the most detestable, bccakflEtft that iev«raawi;aiidi have
seen many bad Qvm> The iable.'was laid tttider a woodcb skad^ in si.'paiA ntf
the prden where the stvoogest smell iwas oettainly «ot/ that ^ the bloom nef
the l9p)9Q«>trees^: The hostesd of tkis p^ace, who didi notcKpedtao-flpvaylviai**
tors^ (we were fourteen)* tmiidehaete<« to put li»'£r36Df^pa»iod 4he ire^lo
prepare thp cIadMq;/W<fir{£s» whieh m9». sooa served to ^ns^v^nie'gwid'^^ODe^
among oiber eweHlient'qiAaliliest^ithiok'withovl dattfbt^she pbsnsses/.iaidtwWsh
musi constitute the glofy^iod the ktppioese: ^her-^hiK^aafA^ihatKllmt wlbdi
rend^ pgople.ecoM>mieal;.;weiipcrcd.vediityiforab^ ttse^ iniietomletlfe.the
smaJiestnupiber of.eg^ possibWi bo appearaneeiof smaR heifafi^Hmddf oiKjost
enoagb.Ao junder llie egg» ffxtm^ imcoing^: She .plaoed- besidvUn^ilairid:df
tougU.p^i(e„ whiok was ibdifierent^TtoonmendcdboralocitaiB tibte aff ihe
nest rather distinguishable, the skeleton of a biped'oflthelaUiflyof^the gal|iiihcCBy
offered uo^ler ^be pampoua name of >poia$iro>m$Uf. 1 lEht* reaped •ofak^siiiwras
so lfvi|> so (Aryy ^,^mi^u^}f HOuked* tha^viat tmtli it fsaghtipOBi fofta paiodyi

Jal'^'^Kiirir finm^F^m^ >6[^ 46a^

> »

it httd: Awilyv ^hoiltt^dbiibl^ 'fiiT iicwil tinys

trav«ll^t8^ Ibr it inrf^ trooped mmmacbeA • ^vm > time enooonleis^ 9^e • «liifl
tbe '«oi»ige<to'«ttabiitr; it'is impoMibU tattii'WhatreBistaiioe lh«lrd>wal>?
on alB>'bm^>aBi>wfaai'ipenefenaK» mi oan^* N«vto wit 4lMre<m-iouglMrr
attaflb} ii0«to'wMi<4!kOf« gtietjr.' W&-bfecikfested< -very ill, battre^ltfugned^"
muob^ iriMrcattaed 'gnMipletauib Id oiirlioMeBf> whor'feftreA'vieiyimtcb lltflt
we AotaUfaasfQAiiiteYtbe'jokBin aBOlhtPioBe* AtBiM ftnnd 116 |iM>d<r«ll0W^''
andinteoitev «S' Ae vnnwd; an didost' for swelling thd bilVvbe^bfOUgbr^-f <
waiidb^)bifcK>£rveBiv>okK«iriri[ih atpmVf of nmwpft h«i lodged; they< dtopuiM'
'vigQiQ«lyi(«itiii)i0' Ibeiv pwfi "vfoid^ witb some tolorablsr food 'amugei alid'ii '
little cheese, msa tbefD08t««betaiitial pari of am repastc To pay waallit''
last^apt^of the ihccer o^ faioi^lfl V^ry dft^aodef^ 6(^r wm av^Hr iiwifti^ «^fiV
®^f ! *

qualit;

wiUfoa^i^ht*lh^^4israi^^^^ at^astV'Sitf ^illiiigr^^ . ,

halfby force, she yfiliaM'ttnd%&<^6Mpi^1of>«#d><hifies'ei^. '^hefiM'tt^^ *
tweai^sili fmtocstibrvtel, kc tm iCKttaivA^iit eiliiliate,itafer>ooliwohh«a6hr
tbaD'eigl^/>rTt-f«l^jb.{)i laOi- ' ■ :.',..:•' ' . n ; -•• f. - ;-^ eo't Mr

Tlte imn bi^ iioc the4>iily disiigrmlMes of ttavoHihg^wh^ tbeyiii'^'''"
bad9iihe^>edaclicsM #6n a»'th« ccweh«-t)ften '«dntet4iriea 'batfy^'ii^bte
enotighiii-w^ give btit a short e^atuple. .'.?...»..,.,.,..,/;:« .'. .

*< I\ligU,|)roi]^hin^ fi^ Nqyi, wtoe we o«gh4 t»JlAvear9iK6dLftBLtbejift«iiiiWfiii»
VVef 6^4 tcitveU^isfcavljr, ii|i4I otadea ewi^tlaiiH to^my J^pird <GaidiRal((GaHU«
nalv|r^iit^,9^ij9e o(;jil|«,4rU«f'd*»il^<l^<'^»® ^^0|^ bawbonMiwrgniiifilt
to pin9^«,,ila(^tl|;ilJi^JHMriie9i«efeka(miAild stnKigi -^iidliftrthalYbtSfhonfld ve»:r.v
ioo^«^fH)g.C«<39^ry ys^aichi 3Nl[^tbftt if ttar baggpqge Md:beea-b#aEvler/' n
aD4;9j^r,perfoo«^ii^he9rier, «^ sbotjrfhahr^ gona:<s|uiel»N» bogtmaai faii>'hdrtf> > > v
weii9.«A?4»U>^ 4<9tw- Wvar biwdAnl^ I..e<i»felC'thal)i dMl< uH lalKB^ntiy naMjiy"''
the prfi|K)94^oii6 of our qriver i »a?eMbel(QM{>fjK>m.po^iti^oasa^4xidLa]ffo.lKc«a9a>:'t
argf4i)g',j^ef. sO;a9^i4ly^jagaips(UiM.pitra4Q>.inf^ not ;bave tmadd 4ha«:flfnr >•
rececfe, I yielded/' — p. 386. ..■!.•..,'/- • .- < • . :.•r^-.;^•w

Aac^lH»i^ letfus^b^toir t hasty;^atice Aip(m If. Jitr8^8#cbilB'V<ililin^{
He'begihsit kt.Milaci, of the mtemv* of whose cf^^^smtd'iiitSm^Wj^^''
have tbaUloAniar mid deaoviption* ^^, i •. .. . 1'' t|>

'*11i^*7otBH6r'6T five' chtliih appeared to me v6rj^ <nc/ very noble.' T(ie',i]
vaults are painted, but it requires loug habit and iih etc^iletit eye to'di$- '
covte this deception Fradeia Brambilfa^ Whai«#a^i a ikiNM mtfD»" h^6uf^d '
much jonthaideeoimtion'Of thai sanotuary; the^i'are iooK ekccMMI 'scuTfrture^' ''
by kim.' A^faotaslioal atatoe^of Su BartbolecMW ilayeil/carryttfg 'his ski&'t>il' *^:
his •arm, ia the work of 'Maak Agmten This sutlWr m^tidi httsheen ^hafpTy ';'
criticiMdyap|)ea9edto.iBea.fln6pieee, iiolwiltaitafidtn^ **'<

spires. It n:a karaadjslii^ wiMfcb^ it is tme^ «rotild>perhapi<'lM^t)ellef Mc^i^- ' ''
in aa'acMtoj^ofdilawiBg, of at- the- wi^tfaiiy/thatt ivi^ ^ «huK6h ,^' b^f,' aftet(

1//

0*1-

• *<r

wMmigiafpid>the' (MWf«l§lotis of 'agorty
*^ it -vita tbd<MtaTfeaf 8i4'€harlea^'diagrrat8aiivt<i#]ijaiiitady V80^ tomb'''^
of Ohatkfr Duifcjouam, die pataan-of Milanyit^a^edked out <And yeapMdibV""^
witb K^. The civwd of pio«l8viailoi««ia<'d<tdBhding*ifttO><thftt strtftc^^
ranean chapel; 'hat' as Iblioivr-theDl. • * < •' ■-'•.'• •■••.' •• '.' .u iuhr,ih;ii
** Ten.tat»evt of ttaa ueitill burning) on ^tf altai^ wMtih thrufdAiiskM^ Ai9 '^^
just qoittad after bariog said- MMMttaert* * . » v^ .'Whai po•ftp^trhtrtifek#f'

ri

Cm

486 J«l'< TimfinM Pam ia Napki.

what labour! Oh 1 Chaiiei^ iriidK dcfnoe wis to ttlidcBl, how ill Ikqr koDoiir
th«el Thie, I rwd'lfowtlilcf* wiitteiieniry where e» thai 4npa7; baft tha^
drapery '» all of purple worked with gold 1 Thy body, cmhalined, impoaei cm
a Gwnon of velvet, in a robe of gold, in a cage of the fineii^ ollhe ommK woo-
derful fock-ciystal, atta«shed to bdlbaiit walls of the purest setall Over thy
flutred bead hangi a^erown worth alooe the principality of MoflMO^ the re-
public of San Marinoy and^ periiaps, oDeor two of the anoient wgi»faa»
whose sovereigns were so proud. See there a czoas of emeraldsy whadt escel
in beawty and m9 those wita which tiie poetio- iivamation of eattmmx atoiy-
tellers embroider th^ robe of the calif bdoved by lortaoe; a hrilliant caosss
which the bankers of Europe would accept as a pledge for a loan for the bene-
fit of a dethroned monarch, and which a royal haftd deposited in thy se-
pnkhte^ danliiig as Ay ^ory before God. The oraakr whsck they have
placed in thy left araiy would be snfficienit ftnr the endowment of an faaapHal
nirorphaitt: the abar on which thou reposest is of silver; tfaeroof of tbybttle
teanple is of silver ; the bas-idiefii which Tepvesent the hsesdenta of thv life,
aanetiied by great works of an enlightened £uth and of at wflvcp Ailing caarity,
are in silver. There is overthee, nader thee, abont thea^ Ihev^ae cf five or
six millions of money, which gleams to my eyes by n aragtoal effsel oCtaflBded
light: and on the walls thev kutve written HumUiimJ » ^ *

'* At Milan and in the whole oeuntry, they speak with the greatest love and
the most profound respect of Saint Charles and the Borzomei, who were near
having a second saint in their family ; I allude to the Cardinal Frederick Bor-
ooBeo^ who missed his canonization because it costs dtar t9 enter pandise
by permissicKi of the papal chanoeUery. It oest the DorBamci tee* nmch for
Sacint C^arks ; they dared not nndartake the same basineat for fiaiaft FrederidL.''
«— vol. ii. p^ 5^10.

Milan is celebrated^ among many other things, for its FanlouJiki

^ I was wearyt and had need of rest for my eyes and bead z iar she evening,
I had reeeurse to a childish diversion, I went to see the ybnleccUnL The
pnppets of Milan are as eelebmted as the Cathedal^ the ahrme of'4Saint
Charles, the ' Supper^ of Leonardo da Vinci, the gates of Saint Awhcnse, and
the arch of the Simplon— ^which I did not see, and I do not know whvybot 1 have
not Ae. least regret ;*T-the ifurattini of Genoa, and all those with mich we had
been regaled at Paris, were truly quite another thing. The doUs of Giroiamo
perform the drama quite as well as our actors of the theatre of Saint Martin ;
they dance exquisitely. The piece which they dedaiaMd this evening was a
graind romantic drama, intitled, Primce E»ig€mt tfSmo^ at tkt Siegt mf Ivm*-
nor. An aaaorous intrigue proceeds from catastnmhe to caAaatsoplie^ andy di-
vided into six acts— *six acts, yon understand, and not fore» like the isaperfect
dramas of Moliere, of Comeille, and of Racine 'gives att the intemst to
the action of the piece, in the midst of which Giroiamo,, dM great boffooa^ the
famous Gicolamo, moves, kicks about, and jokes in the costume of a' corporal,
half-killing the good people of Milan w^ koghter at his. rough famgue.
A ballet ]^yed between the acts astonished me ackoA, although the tfoqufnt
speeches of Prince Eugene had tolenbfy surprised me. The daeciag of
these wooden Perrots and TaglioBM is truly tnconoetvable ; there is net one of
these pnppets whose talenlft would not excite emnlatioa in asany ef the dan-
cers of Naples, of London, or of Paris, who obtain loerative engagements.
Horizontal oance, side dance, vertical dance, all the dances posaibley all the jfar^
iurt of feet and legs which you admire at the Opcray yow will' find also at the
theatre Fiando; and when the doll has finished her danoe><when she has been
weU apphiadedv when the U^it'^t is heard in the pit, the sUgfat whistle ef sd-
miiation which precedes the enthusiastic cry ^[forijjari/ ifait rirallT tbr art iiTf ;

Jd'# Iburfomn P«rts to Naples. 487

fiKM&'MiiMl tkft Meoti BBAlitt fa«r bow wilh an aif, plftoas bee little
luufti on ber beMt» mid does not letin until sbe baa complattly patocfied tbe
{pnafcaragttEi and tba fwond dancera of tbo Siala. If aba is catied a|i[atn» abe
nttaofilaiiiintfy rdoms. If abe is not ca&ked again, abe is moie pbilosopbical
ahaat Madanoiaelle lialibran; abe sbcds none of tbose tean of pettidkoess
iwbioh tbejf s^r tbe iilnatnona ivtitU ahraya ahada wfaen dia ia not obbged,
avfber a Mpeaaentation^ tm cobub fonraid a^ain more tban three or fKtr tiaMa."

Before leaYing Milan we cannot pass over the fbWowinff adconnt of
tfce 'Dissent aspect of its society and of tbe stale of pvmlic feeling,
ifvhich appears to us so just and so natural.

*' It was never intandcd to be a part of mf plan to aee aoeiety ; loo many
•l^facta lead U> too aiaeb laaa of time* and aiy boors wara^ aa I may say, atun-
bated. . Befitre one ia raalfy admitted^ seaecal days aie naacaial^ ; tbe waiatth
4d a. fim lacaptioa is no rale ibv the fotiue; iavitatioBs do not come on
mo9f9 int aifrral> aa Ibat it reqairea a lang rasidance iit a town beibra we can
fiMrm an idea of its aocie^. I aball tbwafera htsn notbing to say about tbe
^lomaitir cbaractar tS tbe Ittdians ; all I know of it is Irom die acooant wbidi
waa giren me by Itidxana tbemaeiTeay wben tbeir kindbesa wna not acaiad by
jAy eurioBity. At Milan eyeiybody^s booae ia closed agaiost tbe world ; tbere
ia BO visiting bvt wxdnn «be imga of tbe ncaraat iatimacj; tba Mibmno hex
Id apen tbeir bonsea to others^ lest tfaeysboold no kioger ei^y liber^ at
Kama ; die Aostrian oceopatioB wonid extend itself from tro city, wbeie it bas
the ebaiaeter 9i mistntttwbieh distiBgiiiabca evaiy occupation by an enemy,
toi tbapariams^ wbara it weukl be mote vnea^ and not lesa tjnnmical ^ there
would be a German officer in every bonse, at the comer of tbe €ure> as tbere is
at tbe comer of each street a sentinel in a yellow and black sentry-box, so
soon as the couvre-feu is rung. Ibe effusions of friendship, political specnla-
tions, words of hope for a better {utnre, the regtels of a patnotlsm always
curbed, would not be more easy in theprivate circle, than in the public places,
gosstnings, or assemblies of people. Tney would have Austrian arguments in
mil Kbend conversations as they hava cannon in the pubKc places; they
would have spies, and that which ia aa fearful to a Milanese, witty and sprigbt^
as be aLways is, they would have dull coaBpanioiiB4 Thus no>ona.o^aa his
door, for fear timt it should gtv6 passage to an Austrian ; tbey afasftain from
aodal hatercourae, in the apprehension that & German shoaid imasediately i»-
terpoae himself between two friends, and between tbeir thougbta* They see
one aDOlher» and make tbeir sahitaiiona to each other, aat the paUic pffoane-
nade ; they converse together in tbe boxes at tbe tfaeatse. Hiua the Milaneae
a^om amuse tbamaelves.; it is true they oblige tbe Austrians to ahataia alti^
gather froas amusement, and tin this auonev they take vengeance for tba pre-
sence of their guavda.

f* I have often heard say in France, paiticulacfy since the revdntkrai of July,
that the Italians r^ret and desire the French; tbi» baa been hnagimid merefy
fa^ our vanity.. The. ItaUana render justice to tbe passage of tiaa French iospe-
nal administratioa over their provinces ; tbey ase gratefidibrliie amelioaatioos
which it introduced among them^ but this ia all ; thay are no moredaainBa of
French at Milan, at Venice^and at Verona, than tbey are of Aoalriaos* Peibapa
they would disi^gfeo less with us than with theGem»Bs^becauae tba antipathies
are less profoond and the affinities of ideaa more noaaefooa, bat tbey waoM not
he our friends. Tbe Germans are heavy rulers ; we ai« inaolent conquacora ; we
will make everything French where we place our loot, whether it be at Algiers
or at Rome. Tbe Austsiana su&r the people to nmaua Italiaaa beside tJasm.
Tbey know that very waB; at Milaa], aaitluiaiftjbeydaire tbaFnaaktbaKti

4m M^U!l\009iS^l^^

make war ibr tbeift;'bii|.riwayfroi^c«^ipdWfl»'ihMfWto»y)fe*dWg^
araik0'dtt»ibtOA€x«ip9fkifpeoipte> %i<4Hn4»NMif^|de,d90|^a9fMfi|)i^^^

sAioe tiro^, that w« aire the p^fi^ mmftfi^df^^fiiSfn^v-iWnimmim/lltPbm m

kr anil «raDt.th«tf»iengy( vmi uniiy .fniMi fi^tiA irfttplu|}|iMiltfeicJ|efi|9A;iiMAie«
^^, ibat I ha/ve h^wd: tli»:TtA|i'a«i^a^nfrtthtMtcqpl«!^t^fttc^itei«^

attd idrmtbei Aip9tiMin:.finm) litim|^rilyM!49A«ili^ii(»ttiMSt9^ iefrm^

baid ; . j«fL4b%il. pi^ jtofQ»atoiQfo»iirftW|eiTWittPi|^TWa*^?4i^'g^W>M»>^^^

old district of Provence^ ^hey will cry; ' Look to the cpnqaeror! stop thieQ' . .
l\x^ trade ofpcffltrcM g^tidsft^.'tJbk^g'Q^

ap^tfr^o'MO'^ tmdjBioe ifeaUliienttlo4tfpb/nitt)lM»rteA oiHiairiiaeXpM
kpg'ieikwgK,!! thxiik;^'^VDkiiLqiu4&4»-69.no']!b|jc \bji t y.i Aood sjrl :nort
^ Oitr afac^-'teH^ tls ^km^'^e^Pmn^^^kfilfi^vlti^iAmt^^

more, out of whiel^vv«r^ )iat« i^tf aM9btiUy'^l^lU|f^flM^r<^'#iir
last. Venice by moonlight is a srand picture, but we pass it orer to
give a not less feeling picture of Venice by day-light«

" I traversed the canals for some time, to see by day that Venice whidi had
80 struck me b^ moonlight. My disappointment was great, I assure you ; I
felt an oppression of the heart like that with which one is seized at the view of
a lofty fortune overthrown ; the ruins of power are an afflicting sight Venice
is a queen who has lost her crown^ a queen who weeps at the point of death.
Her last days are sad ; she has still beauties, but degraded beauties ; we see
that she was powerful, strong, magnificent; that her noble lovers had covered
her with sold and with lace ; but her lace is torn, and Sansovino and Titian,
Minio and the Lombardi, no longer live to give her tiieir ftintastic embroideries,
their elegant designs ; but the gold has disappeared from her diadems, and
her treasure can no longer give them the pomp of former days : but she b
poor, weak, exhausted ; and this faintness and this wretchedness who is there
that can cure it ? Alas I all those palaces which totter, all that marble which
is crumbling to dust, all the remains of that ancient pomp which the East
yielded to Italian Venice, all those cupolas on which lead appears where once
glittered crowns of sequins, form a very deplorable spectacle ! Rags hung at
the balcony of Carlo Zeno or of Morosini, a truckle-bed under the deling
where Byron came to renew the orgies of anoUier epoch, fortuneless and sn^
fering families in the houses inhabited formerly by luxury and fortune ! Tbiak
you not that this is something lamentaUe and disenchanting? And yet thett
comparisons of a present foil of misery with a past foil of grandeur, are not

w{Ui«<rt<V'ittMttn^h^.cte[i«Dr>i^h1td)i ^flit» a'-'t^' peeuliar tiht^over this mest
dt4gfiMr«lfH.<: rUM lofeAeiftmM^ca Veolee, I btte Men hk under all shaddt
<^rfi^i'iri»TfiiilM6bttfi4'iQedid't&«ittou«f^^ I alWft3f<s entertained, tliat

CUSmeih^k th«*dMl^ton«>l«4»<» httt/'r«prf«eliMd well the aspect Mid the tone cf
tfli ^Mih; fhif 'sky,'iiad tte biillditigs ^ Ve«i(%. > AHnost «i» fMldteH exagfe^
MKf«Plfiim> 'UM^hiVeil^^ MiMf'to i^nMent the (jfoay el tto Solavonfam, the
^$a!tio^'^Hhii^bif^;'otA\ie p^i oanel^r tbeybveMirfito red, bloti yellow,
dvttiig^i'%tt<{^fol6t. < 'Antobio Cttttfi/leM^ cm^ te- oonfrary is' eimnl^^ trctef tie
af^^4ii^%4iHle''fl^f Co m^P^riitooe; t^he; oiity* kn«r«r the Venioe^of the m-
MM^^«d'8^rfted piiiiMttge^of-BeiiMgtDtt'^ tMheis^Mtttval, eou^enttni*
Ifi l9#IMiff«l«hd^^cruj^i]tebst)»bfttiltti^^ Ought to be;

tib^J^A^'^fet^dong^'Fteneti aniet, ^ho-lvtes nt* Venloe^ a^ipetrji lo have
tf'^fAV'Umit^wyskfti^^g this ^foUefi tnnjeftty; hie ittst attemplB, whioli I
■fi^pfthflh^^^oMj^' mm' A' Utile hea^effr' in' > the' touch) eve already rery

i&^ iasbmt^iiitet;:^}^^^ sfh of^xiifsievatioft, Mr Dela^

tfl8i4^i«ti{l^lyeCiidyib|'VeQke;itftadfwlil-ig^^^ It the mmUe

^^pilfM triUf V^hK^I»eMl<l¥e6!^ h iii his finit t>aiiitilig-.' Hewitt undetw
#tMltf Ihiet tb ki- AiMihir ifcsin GeiMietto^ ie- «• ftilMhood, dfid dkat if he is pet>-
MHted^slfiVr tei ihMilW a' fewf^emr on the birow of the erncienr miattesi^of tlie
iM^iiS6. tftre^ IhM ti4lkdi^M^ of h& gloi^ o«i|sht to be^hai^dted wttii^diKMtioe.
Ttoiii»^6inaiil iMricM'dr'the litfcfll palee« ie nd longer Yed' at the present day
na^(|9i»qrib iht«e^te)MuMee eigd^i uMtare ■^eemsto^takea paii In the motmiing of
Mtc^fr this iff what libw we tanhdt help 6hsenrihg.''-^^^U H. ^. i'4a

.ir)|^Vn|imll^e.Mr|Je^^^^ oiu; Midination; for we wouM

Jf^imihf' m^o/jriyen bi* -une^ilQ^s of' Don Miguel at Genoa, ^d
rmKff'JtAllBrB^yJ W«'lew»e}ijn»^iiMei8erwiUi&eUnffft.of nuieh Aatiefae-
tion : bis book is a real addition to eor wotka on- Italy. The descrtp
5{nW7<rf«lT(WJ<*i».w.i^itfj.c<>nvto witk the remains of

)t#aMP«Mi^7Tri}fi¥^iM iwHh>Ulifm»ndiMgo!adQfos nude Ue pAlaectv*

^ r.i. i'' .. : I ■'{.•• ' ' ' ■ •

J : . : ; ^tr : i ^ • . ' ' • • ' •■ • ■

I'- AT ••; • ' J. •..-...'♦. ' '

frmmfmmf^t**f*'* >" ■*>■>■* ^

I ' ,. ,

. ' • • • • . *. . « '

. :'♦.£?' 11"':.. • '• .

{t,: . I

J

< 490^ )

MISCELLANEOUS LITERARY NOTICES.

No. XXXIV.

I'ri" I III

DENMARK.

The Royal Society of Northern Antiquaries at Copenhagen, founcled for
promoting the pubhcation of ancient Northern, and more especiallj Icelandic
monuments, and for the elucidation of northern antiquities, have commeoced
an undertaking wliich can scarcely fnii to Hnd numerous supporters in this
country. It will be entitled Aniiguitales Britannica el Htbernica,Sknd consist
of a collection of accounts elucidating the earlier history ofGreat Britain and
Ireland, extracted from ancient Icelandic and Scandinavian manuscripts, and
other historical sources; with a Latin translation, geographical and archseolo-
gical notes, fac-sirniles, and maps.- Among the contents of this work, which
will extend to three or four royal 4to.vol8., it is intended to include: Jatvardar
Saga — a history of King Edward the Confessor ; the Sagat of the Archbishops
of Canterbury, Dunstaii, Thomas^ and Anselm ; Orkneyinga Saga^ history of
the Orkney and Shetland islands, and partly of Scotland, fronoi A. D. 86^ to
1331; Snorre Sturlese's celebrated neimikringla ; those portions of the
Landnama Bok, a history of the earliest colonists of Iceland, as relate to na-
tives of Britain t extracts from many other Sagas and Annals of the ffings of
Norway and Denmark ; also of Icelandic Warriors, Scalds, and ocber diltiit-
guished men, who, during the middle ages, were connected with the British
islands. The impression will be restricted to 360 copies, and the work will
be published by subscription.

The same Society is engaged in preparing, on a similar plan, a work rela-
tive to America, by the title of Antiquitatei Americana, or a Collection of the
Accounts extant in ancient Icelandic and other Scandinavian Manuscripts re-
lative to Voyages made to North America by the Scandinavians, in the tenth
and following centuries,* with the Latin and Danish versions, notes, maps,
and plates. This work, which has been in progress for several years, and will
leave the press before the end of the present summer, will consist of onero-
lurae royal 4to. whicli will also be published by subscription. In the pro-
spectus of this work it is remarked, — ** What serves in no small degree to en-
hance the value of the ancient writings, is the great apparent probability,
amounting indeed almost to a certainty, that it was a knowledge of these
facts that prompted the memorable expedition of Colombus himself, which
terminated in his discovery of the New World — for it is a well authenticated
fact, that the great navigator visited Iceland in the year 1477, on which occa-
sion he could scarcely fail to obtain some information frorti its inhabitants,
particularly its clerical functionaries, with whom, according to the custom of
the times, he probably conversed in Latin, respecting the voyages of tbdr an-
cestors to those regions.''

^ For some account of these early Icelandic diseoverics by Swedish literati, sec
For. Qu. Ke?. vol. xitl. p. 318, et ieq.

MiteMmeoKS iHerarff Notice$, 491

FRANCE.

In ^ the course of last year there appeared in Franoe 6700 works io Frencb,
Ga^b?4i)xrBogrnl},;Spam8b,itCaiian| Portugueses Greek, and Latin. Thejiam«* J-
ber of copper-plates and lithographs asiouDted to 10499 ^^ that of the musi-
cal publications to 350.

In the royal printing-office at Paris there are types of fifty-six oriental dia*
lects, including modern and ancient characters, and siiteen of European na-
tions which do not make use of Roman, tattars. The whole of the presses of
thiB establishment are capable of working 1278,000 sheets in a day, or 9S66
volumes of thirty sheets each. The number of handf employed in it is 350.

'^ La France Litt^raire.'^ by Querard, a work compiled with eitnionKnary
industry and carej has advanced to the seventh volume, which comes down
to the fetter R. It contains not only the literary works of French authors,
but also those of foreigners who have written in the French language. It
furnishes valuable and interesting particulars concerning works that are but
little known and their authors^ and is particularly rich in notices of worlt^ of
eminent writers, making mention at the same time of the' difiereut editions,
translations, commentaries^ refutations, &c.

M. Goizot has been nominated a member of the French Academ^. The
ex-minister is at present encaged in establishing a new journal, which is to
ha?e the title of " L'Europe Politique et litt^raire." lie means to superin-
tend the political department himself; the literary will be condocted by
Victor Hugo,

M»Fauriei has completed bis ^ Histoire de la Gaule M^ridionale sous la
Domioaiioo dea Cooqucrans Germains,^ in 4 vols. 8vo.

Jif . de Saintie Beuve has announced a <'*Histoire de Port Royal,^ which is
expected to be a very interesting work.

M. Michelet, who has lately been prosecuting his researches in the archives
of Xottlouse, and studying the monuments of that city, is continuing his His*
tory of France.

The French journals have announced an extensive literary undertaking to
be carried into eifect by means of shares, under the auspices of the most emi-
nent banking houses. This is a work with the tide of " Paotheou Litt^raire,
Collection universelle des Chefs-d'oeuvre del^Elsprit huroain/' to consist of 100
thick volumes, so printed as to contain the quantity of tOOO ordinary ones, at
ten francs each. The general conduct of this enterprise is committed to the
learned M. Buchon, to whom the public is indebted for an admirable French
national Chronicle. .

A new edition of the works of Victor Hugo is in the press', which cltieily
excites attention from the circumstance that several of the dramas, particu-
larly Hernani, are t|iere first printed as tliey were written by the author.

M. Silvestre, of Paris, has lately sold by auction several yery important
libraries. The recent sale of Heber's books, by Silvestre, produced a sum
total of about 25,000 francs.

49B MRke6an^)Wf Hteratf^ Notices.

A ^ell-eonducted jourDA), entirely devoted to the drama of all ooontn^
under the title of Le Monde Dtaiiiatique, ^vas last year ooinmeiiced at Paris.
It is a hartdsdme and cheap work, (illed with plates, Hchoarapfis, and wood-
eta t». Atnmig the fonnfer are fac^sSnrites of the works o^ Itetscb oi\ Gat he,
Schiller, Shakspeare, &c. ; and among the former will be found excHlenc
conies of the works of Callot. Mr. Richter, of. Sobo Scjuare, is the afs^t of
ihn puUicadon in London. The first volume is compleced, ftnd th^ work is
to be restricted to twelve.

. M. Silvestre has just publlshedi m an eitfteiaeljr htrndsoffae volatile, the
curious ancient Mastery of St. Crispiii ^i\4 St. Crispinien, ^ited fay Pes-
calles and Chabaille. The important *' Clianson de Roland,*' edited hy
M. Francisque Michel^ is nearly ready for delivery^ A .most ifttet^esiing
notice of it, by Rnynouard* appeared in the last na^i^ber of the Jottrniil des
Sayans. The first ittluroe of Wace's.UruXy, edited by iLe Ro^ix dm Li^y, aikd
published at Rouen, by Frbrei has roached Rn^land; the seomuf voioaa^ with
the plates and introductipn, is promised in ihe>oaarse of ibepresettiyean

M. Silrestre promises a work, to be published in pai:^, enUtle<ly " L^livre
de( I^eeiides,'' to be edited' by M. Le Roux de Dncy. In this work, we are
told, will be collected all the traditions, and alt the fables,' in which the peoples
of Earope have believed, principally during the middle ages. Extending tUe
commoA acceptation of the word legend, M. Le Roux de Liocy will assemble
together under- this title all the stories, whicti nte acknowledged to' be false,
concerning the personages of the Old aiid New Testament,' as welf as of an-
cient and modern history : all fables relating to countries, rivers, forests, moun*
tains, and other objects of -nature; alt stories of dnnts, fairies, spirits, and the
other strange rtnd chimerical creations of th6 mind of our credulous forefathers.
The first livnritdn has just reached us, a handsome and interesting octavo of
d86 pages, containing an introductoiy dissertation t>n the nature and classifica-
tion of legends in general, and treating of them under the heads of 1, sacred
legends ; 2, Legends relating to men celebrated in ancient and modem his-
tory ; S, legends relating to people and towns ; 4, legends relating to countries,
forests, mountains, and waters; 5, legends relating to precious stones and
plants; 6, legends relating to animak; 7, the supernaturat world ; 8, giants
and dwarfs; 9, elves; 10, fairies; 11, loups-garoux. An appoidix of inedited
documents relating to early superstitions is extremely curious. The 6r8t part
gives us reason to hope much from this work, and we he^rti^y wish it success.

We have just received from Paris.tbe catalogue of a ootleclion of lioolaand
manuscripts, which, particularly those relating to the early iMStory and lilera*
ture of Spain and Portugal, and of their colonies in Afl parts ofd^ world, Isrvi-
ing the larger portion, are the rarest, .most .valuable, and most interesting, that
we havo ever seen offered for aale. It » entitled Caiakpm dies Livrtt H lla-
maerUg de la BibUothtque defeu M. ^txel^ and coataitis 29'20arddes« Tbey
vrill he sold by M. Silvestre on the 8d of oeixt November, and ihe-tisen^-six
following days. Catalogues, we t>elieve, yiS\ be.t^ be had «f Mr. Picketing of
London.

ifc *i

WaiMve also just received the fii'st volomir of M. Pkiulin*^ Paris neat edition
in 19mo. of the Great Chronides t>f Saint Denis, which is poblislied Lv
Tecbcner, as one of the series of the History of France by conrcmporarv
writers.

M. Blip. Sott\:eatre.hflsc(>mplctedJus.wftkeiuiiied'' Lei D<|rl^i^r» ^f^(ms,'*
(^heffih lustyeflr)* hy (he pMblicaunrn of the ihiid MiitJ ifaurih vpluin«». The
Snformattbn which It furnisher cuncccniaj^ ihe commeice,. iiuiu&tr^, and agri-
culture of BretQgne presents a picture thut i$ equally i'uiilifuj, .eutertuiuMig,
Xkud instructive. . , . .

A tmn^latioti of part dt" Les Chants du Qr^puscule/' hy Victar.liuiip, iuto
Snglisti ven^f by Mr. George W. M. lteynoUli<, has Ueeu publi&M,4^ JPar^s^ .

An Italian Journal, conducted hy natives of Italy, and destined to Qipke
know» tK« iolelleciu^l advance which is taking place in that country in nrt and
scienci^ \m been odmmenced At Paris with the title of *< L*(talmito."

MeMTs. IVftchaud and Foujouldft hare comnrenced. the publication of a col-
Jcdtien of '^M^iootrtfrpeorsefVirnrilistoirecle: France," from the 13th tortlte
CAd of the ISib OMttbry, mth ititrofhiclory femarlts on the character of ^ath
author oC the nwtismrt, andihcira^ hi vrhi^v h^ Itvedl This woHc ysH\ appear
in paru, tvr» of «vlii^ wiit form's vdimiey afid it itf intentled to be completed
in about 35 volumes 8vo.

M^s^t's. Gosselin and' Furne, whp have purchased the copyright of M.^^
Chateaubriand^s ^ Histoire de la Liit^rature Ajnglaise,'' wbicb is oearly.refi^y
for publication, and of his French translation of raradi^eLps^ lmv,ea^iu^^^
that DO part of the expected memoirs of tliat wrlten.will be giv.eo. to ilIic p^t^lic
before the expiration of three years. The saiAQ bookaelWi ace.>pnep^nug.a
complctig edition of his wurks, in 35 vols.^vo. with SO pla,t^s.. .

I c i • -« 1 I

M. Jfamy has presented to the 'Museum of Bou)o|^e.a medal) now^^^
tremely rare, struck by Napcileon to commemorate hi;i iiueuded.ipya4i0u.pf
England. On the obverse is seen the head of Napoleon, crowned with laur.eli
with the inscription, ** Napoleon, Empercur;^' on the reverse Hercules ttillij^
in his Arms a monster, hail man, half ftbh. Around this figure is the ins^r^ip*
tion, '* Descente en Angleterre." Kound the edge are th6,pi;emature wpiids,
^ Frapp^e k Lohdres en 1804." Such an evidence as tliis certaiiUy seems to
prove that the threat of invasion was not a meie bugbeai* set up to t^rify us^
us some have conjectured.

Of Dupreisoit's '' Voyage pittoresque daos la Grande Brelaguey'^ w(itU (ext
by Al. Decamps, the thirdllvraison has appeared*

Of the ** Ancien Bourbounais," the plates to which have been engraved and
litbogMipbed,. under cIm direetioB of Clu^a^ard, the 15th and l<}tb Hvraisons
Imve bel^pllbli•ball. They oonCain ten large plates> 9tx of wlricb are Iitli6*
graipfas* Xba lest i»by AUier.

. Vkooitfi dA ForMtMT' has ooinmetfoeH an extensive work by th^ title of
** Alpes ptttoreeauei-^Dtfcription de ta J^ais^e, da TyW>l, et de'la Snvoie.'^ It*
will bft'pttUiabea ia tbvea^ division tfocordivkg i<r tlie countries; the' first of'
wbicii'iwtoMiUan about 75 livraiions.

The fir8t4iumbera of the long expected -^ Voyage pittoresque et arch^olo-
gique dans 1^ M^a^u^,'',f)jp ^. .QhfUfl^^ Nebei uf -iMmlhiig* are.puibiUMied.
Among il|e lithographic platea in Uie fin^t iaOMej[«|»res««iltogilie pyraiiiiri>of
Papantla, cidled el Tajtri< an e^u/emelv remiic^oblef .monument of ])l€»kttn :
antiquity, here first described by the autnor. •> • <

VOL. XVJK NO. XXXIV. L L

494 Mucdhneou^ LUemry N^Hces.

The first Yolnme of " UEgypte et la Turqiiie de 1889^1836^ bj
Cadalvbne and Breavery, with maps and plates, has made its appearance. This
volume relates to Egypt and Nubia» Tfce work will consisc of 4 voUmies and
otlas.

sons.

Tlie first vohifne of " M^moires de la Society des Antiquaires de rOvtsr,*'
illustrated with thirteen plates, has been published at Poictiers.

A " Description pittoresque et statisque de Paris au l^me Si^cfe/* bm M.
Laponnernge, is in the course of publication, in 4Col It will Consist o/ 100
numbers, each containing two lithographic plates.

Rugendas' Picturesque Voyage to Brazil, with text in Fretkcfa and Gerttaan,
is now completed in SO folio numbers, containing 100 plates.

The announcement of a new edition of Norvins* wcll-knowii ''Histoire de
Napoleon'* has induced the Count de Masbonrg to assert, in a letter to the
editor of the Temps, that the statements in that work relative to Murat are
almost .nil distorted or erroneous. Count JMasbourg, formerly minister of
King Joachim, announces that, as soon as circumstances permit, he shall pub-
lish Memoirs of the Life of his former sovereign, accompanied with authentic
documents, which has long been prepared for the press; in order to refute
the false and incorrect accounts, the unjust accusalioiSs^ and tiie cahifluiics
against the unfortunate prince, which are to be found even in respectaUe bis-
toriciil works.

' Some hitherto unknown letters of Voltaire's to different persons have re-
cently been discovered in a town of Burgundy, which throw new Kght on va-
rious inddents in the life of that remarkable man; for instance, the adrentore
at Frankfurt. A considerable portion of these letters relating to the writer's
dispute witii the President des Brosses are interesting, as illustrating the cha-
racters of those two eminent persons. These Fetters wilf shqrtfy be published
by Levavasseur.

At A recent meeting of the Academy of Sciences at Piaris, M. Brochant pre-
sented a general geological map of Prance, and read a memoir coonnning the
details of the operations whicli he undertook for the purpose of rrrakinj; it.
This map is on the scale of gcJ^g. The engraving is not yet finished.

In 1817, M. Beuchot !»egan to prepare a new edition of the works of Vol-
taire, in 50 duodecimo volutnes, and, though the undertaking was Mfspended,
he prosecuted his researches and studies for this object, the resnfis of which
he is now about to publish. M. Clogenson, member of the Chamber of De-
puties, who had himself undertaken a new edition of Voltaire, iias been in-
duced to relinquish to M. Beuchot the wiiole of his valuable cormspondence.
The editor has taken care to mention, in ettcli of his prefaces, tlie principal
sources from which the new informotiun famished by him |s derived.

Mi^tifanedta iUerarjf Notices, 4d5

GERMANY.

The Leipzig Easter Fair Catalogue for the present year contains 4,003 either
wholly new op new editions of books, maps, &c. If we deduct 442 articles
published abroad, there remain for Germany, including the German cantons
of Switzerland and Hungary, and those parts of Prussia not belonging to the
German confederation, 3561. Among these are,

Books and pamphlets of a literary, scientific, or miscellaneous nature
in the German language 3004

— ancient languages . . 189

— living foreign languages 504

Novels . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . 158

Dramas 50

Maps, collective or single .98

Of this number 172 are translations from foreign languages (among the

novels alone 47) and 297 periodical works. In the last catalogue ^196 pub-
lishers were enumerated ; the present comprehends 530.

An Augsburg paper states that on a moderate calculation ten millions of
Yolum^B are annually printed in Germany, and as every half-yearly fair catalogue
contains the names of more than 1000 German writers, it may be assumed that
there are now living upvrnrds of 60,000 persons who have written one or more
books. The total value of all the books published annually in Germany is es-
timated at from five to six millions of dollars.

In the year 1722, Leipzig contained 19 bookselling establishments and 13
printing-offices: it has now 1 16 of the former and 22 of the latter.

One of the most extensive printing establishments in Germany is that of
B. G. Teubner of Leipzig and Dresden, who, in his printing-offices and type-
foundries employs 142 persons, and keeps 26 presses going, besides aprinting-
tnachine.

I
Mr. Kemble, the learned and accomplished editor of that noble monument
of Anglo-Saxon romance, the poem of Heowulf, has printed in German, during
his Ut^ residence at Munich, a very interesting tract on the Mythic Genealo-
gies of the West-Saxon Kings (Veber die Stammtafcl der Westsachsen,) in
wkich he examines the character and attributes of the names which occur in
them previously to the period of the establishment of the Saxons iu this island,
lie has shown, we think clearly, tliat the Kentish men are Frieslanders.

Professor Sillig of Dresden has undertaken the editorship of ButUger's
posthumous and minor works. The first of these publications will be the se-
Qond volumie of the Kunstipythologie. The elder of Bottiger's sons is pre-
paring for press a Life of his father, and a selection from his incredibly exten-
sive Correspondence.

Wndmami of L^ipzi^ hft9 published the first, second, and third volumes of
the works of A«lelbert von Chamisso. The first and second contain the author's
Vovage roofid tho World. The publication of the fourth, which (Completes the
colTeclion and comprehends the curious story of Peier Sehtemihl, has been
delayed on account of the plates.

L l2

496 MucillniH^^$^ tii^€i^\ Nai^s.

EqgfinHBDn of Jenn m^ Umi»\}f^'hMiioMmnmi>^^:(H^^^ of

Xhc mD»t, eroioenl G^nn^nfl in ail »geh und^r ibe Utla. of ^ Ml^n^me Hiutk^be
Diographie." It v/iW cQDftist of 4a paHrtB»of C sbe^u* eRoYs.jllnaktttdl with a
.portrait f>n steel ; fo^r pact^ wiU fotm^i^ vo^xat^ 90 ibat ^ yroA vrHLba-ccni-

plfited iat^Tolmnesavo,. . v ' - ♦ •

^■»— ^^ ■ I ■» ♦ p-, 1

' ■ '

A society has been fomifid atBoia« under Uiedifi^ctiM.of A^iW, stm SaMe-
gel, for the purpose of erecting to. the ioemory of Beethoven, the celebrated
ar^i&t aad nijasioal (H^mposer^ a fnaau|D«oVtvo«iI>y,'of blsifjEnn^ im thu^t^vrn
^Mrhere 1^ iras born. Xo Uvis end, tbe coromittoe aolkit^iwtl'ibjsiftiQM.^^mihis
ngineroi;^ admirers, and hope thai nifiMciaos (^d. inatta.goi;9 pf :the«btrel will
^urd their a9$i$tani9e by ineana of. concerta. given, fov .thMS-eMpfeas* ^\|rp«ae.
Tti^ pnbli(shei9 of, thia Journal o^Ter to take.ohar^e <^C Any contribuuqna ismti
ip th;« country for «o laudable an. object. < , . > >' . .-•.''

JVJlZiegelery fxrinter at Blax^keoVu;^ basixtoduced aJBflble prtMt/adtfromiirDn
stereotype plates. . ... - . ;. • . .,i -:■ \ .

— — ^-^-^•■"

' Beitera of Miihsi^ hai aniiouiieed the ptiblicatton of a singulis p«rferOttnce
with Ib&tttlfr of<<f Ui0loricml AQCoimt of the Ongih avid'Openitibii of^^the-wNr
MetM strtiek in bdnoor of the immaculate Conceptioa of tlie'BleaiM'Viigin
Ma#y, and ^genevftlly^khown by the tuune df the MiraMiAoiia M«dal; l^|^i«r
with Devotions £ot Nine Dhys^ with an accurate repr^tentatton or4h0 Medal.
Translated from the 5th enlarged French- edition," (Paris, 1835,) 12 sheets
]9nio» He adds: << About 7fi)000 copieff of Ikis work hmre beeft sbid in
Praoca willifna.year<and B'half.'*'

. ■ /• , 1, ' . • . • . . . • »

«• '■■ .,!...' . : »i; ' ' ' ' ' ' ',•-;..♦;••'?.

The ptal, number of po]itjcal| .Titerary, and scientific jpumaU exUtiftf in
Tiniiy amounts to 188. Of tiiese AO are published nt Miian^ U at Venicc»8 at
tVieste. IS at Turin, 5 at Genon^ 4 at, Modenn^ 7, at Floreuc^, D fit Uowc,. ^
n't Naples, 30 Ml Sicily, 12 in Sardinia. . ' .

' Xucien Buonaparte, prince of Mjuslgnanp, i^ engaged upQn a work ei^tjtted
^Iconbgrafia delta Fauna Italica,** n work so judiciously planned, carried ph
with such perseverance^ and the plates of which are executed with such care,
as to vie with the most celebrated prmtatttons of any country. It oppears in
parts, each containing six coloured places ip 4to.

Dr. Viviani, profossor of botany t^t <>enon, is proceeduig with ^13 W.ork ^
tlie Edible furi^i ofTtuly^ ^ I FunL;hi d^ Italia e priucipalmeute-le loro specie
ma^Vger^cce, VeJenose,' e i^oSpette. . It Is put^li^bed iu pa^t?,' each co^t^whlng
•lO coloured' li'thogrhjyhic plates in folio. ' . , . , .

»i . ^j ; , I , • ~ 4 . ■ * ... , . I

' Co^ntlLuigi^erri^tori of FlorencCy the author of several {geographical wotls,
is now nubrislijpg a <* Statistica d^ It^iliH** i^ numbers, The.Qrst and second
Comprehend t lie Sardinian doinioions and the isiuiul of Corsdca^ and the jdnrd
and fnurtfi embrace the ducliics of Parmu and Lucca,. tlic principality .of
Monfico, the r^pubfic of San l^arino,^ and the kii\j(.dp(p of the Two Sicilies-
'fti^ other llafiiiu states will follow in like i^aunef;. . , .

' ,1.'.

•d' Italia," n vnrfa to tiigh)r«|iprfecMi<d flbronri^ lliict'the wp^tcv 4<ni'pTCtMi»il
I iii!nT0r^j|tMr«peFiuil'witli mv«ii OMittn bj tile lOTeret;;!!) oF-FrnnM, Auttriii,
-iliiKMi^SM'tfinin, &K!.;4>Mt«eeHtlf retufifM Itr hwofrn counrn tromn tour
througli Itoly, France, Eiiglaiirl, tie. and \> now ei)gaged on » UhtMj of ihe
Cummercial Stuies of Tlaly in ihc Afidittc Aj^ej, fur which he had hegun to
-«oltcci'itiniertarkbeft)rBhe u>Kl(n'lo«b-hiifDrtn«i- woirlt. " ' ' '

■"LeAntictwiiiiiPeMoc t»p)u txiUeRuhie di Pompei, dncritte; mimirtte,
aidittpinte *» VtwiKSM <1b C^»Bt<if irhfch haajmt MppMTtd nt Nnpies, ?i o
'«r«rk B^udlly intcreMiiiK lo ilie tr»Teller and tli« anlirgiinry tiilh (liuse orHit-
.wKCtor*c,M)tlin, an(IGe4Va"d at ilt« samt; time m ncelleni subsijtiiie fi^r
:ibaal.Bll,«»fhr'n»-re4titc»wfOTnuejK' The HnliqnilSvs'of fiL<^tiiRr,' thie't^mples
or Neptune nnil Ceres, ilie Iksilika, and'Cho other impurtantolteNUecHiirBr re*
mains, arc nccuralelj represented inlO copjier-pliiies, nnd carefullj' cleicrUMd
^iuiihaiKcoab>|Miij4ni;fexr. In likemiiiMKr, 44 plates Hi«()evut«(l Eo Pom^ji,
uod its most rcuiarknble edilicei. .'

, SMlUof Uiltui is poUiahing, bf iks litle «f " LomfauditJ'ijiaercKJij" u
Hwiitiit}''no[b illuaimiLTe of ili* nnCicnt nnd raodeni iiHmlinetitSinDd-MiAon,
m.HiW'li^Jie K«nerjv lowiw, and untural onrioHtin of i^mtacAji. ■ Tbe'Q-
luMnUions.tO'Ui* (ilBtM UrtAiy ProfeMOra'Cinlil aoilAllcti.Sarttnt. BMi
number. cDoiains 4.plate*^ and 35 numbert will Tunli a qamto vuhmMi' '

. . The p«at wofh "Le<qu*ttro pNqcii>Bl><8auligln li'i Roma," (lUe Laiwrttn,
the Vatican, S. Mnii.i Miif^ure, and Sail Paolo rdOriKJalltmurai) editatUj
A. Valcnlini, has advanced Ii> the 16(h number. It will be cnnipleled in 46.

Fea, llie celebrated nntiquary, has printed fur private ditlributiun a work
with the foltotting title; ** ttiilabilimento, 1. della Cillft di Anzio e sua Porto
NeronUiio; 9. della Citt^ di Onia'oatV iitiro tuo TeveroDe."

' MuMtro Pngitiiitii i) n( present residing at his villii nenr JParriia far ihe.jp^r-
t^dse'of recruiting hi^ impiiircil ficnitli. He Ims ijeclarcd in )li^ Italian joif-
nah thAt' all conipObltimn wliicti imi-e appCitteil in oilier countries under MW
name arc gpuriniii,and that he Ims hitherto puUished nothing but 94 cappricci
for the I'iiilin, Q sunalinas Tor fiotin iiiid. guitar, and 0 qunrteta, for violin,
giiitar, and viotohwllo ; btii that heiniendi soon to publish llie wh6(e of ,lus
works. ."■'.,'

Russia.

l^E art of briniriig wnt introduced into Russia much Jitter tlino KifLf olh^
countries. Till that ueriud the cliaructers ivefe pniiitcd on parcliijiciu /?r
birctr-barb.' Antony ifre niilinn* of the Slavurii.in net 'kite Buticniiaiui were
the first who were ncquainied with printing. The New Testament was ihe

first hoolt printed at Prague, in fUa. In 1 - - —

j^trifsch^ Mlignant'nt 'ihf! iilinlerou» titdifder
Scriptures, gnve ortl(;rs foV tlie ejtnbliilitntiit i
With grenl difficulty printers ueic induced (o
tries; und ta length, in ibCi', the first ^ditta
extremely rare, wna produced. A century niii
invented a new alphabet, which nns cntc, iicct
■lerdam. With lliese new chnrncicrs the first Russiuu newspaper nm printed

498 MisceUaneoHS LHeraty Noikes.

in Moscow. Every month a number, containing from four to ftix cktodectmo
pages, printed in small type, on coarse liair-siaiecl paper, was puUished. Some
years alterwards a press was set up at Petersburg for printing ukaaes, mud
soon after that commenced the Petersburg Gazette and the calendar. It
is probable that the art of engraving ou wood found its way into Rtsaia iK the
same time as printing ; for the New Testament, printed at Moscow as aborc
mentioned, was embellished with numerous cuta^ all of which, liowever, de>
note the first rude essays of the art.

A History of the Bussian Navy, comprisiiig livos o£ the most emhienl

Rus&ian Admirals, is publibbing in parts.

A translation of Dumont d'Urville*s Voyage round tlie World, revised md
with notes by Admiral Kiusenstern, is announced*

The publication called the " Dorpater Jiibrbiicher,^ which "ebMaimfd hiech
valuable information relative to Russia, bas been succeeded since the b^^-
ning of the present year by a new periodical under the title of" Das Inland,"
edited by Dr. von Bunge.

During tlie last few month!i, fi%'e printing-offices, a litlto^plii^: printing*
office, and dve bookselters'-shopR, have been establislied in Mosc6w.

Plato SuViofT has recently published the frrst tivo volumes of •* Victories of
Russian Warriors in the Countries of the Caucasus, from 1800 to 18S4,"
with biograpbioal particulars^ maps, pl«Di> and views. The work is to eooiist
of 9 vols.

MMrf^M^aSBAM

A. new novel by N. Stschukin, who acquired considerable celebrity by hit
•* Travels to Jakulsk*' and his tale of " The Exile," is exciting a great sen-
sation at St. Petersburg. It is entitled ** The VVaterf^Alls of tlie Angara."
With a simple plot are interwoven a description of tliat country se frequeDCly
visited hy volcanic convulsions, and pictures of the mode of life of the oeraits^
and parttculerlv of their hunting parties, wkich evince the accurate local
knowledge of the author.

Iwan Slenin, one of the most respectable booksellers of Petersburg, died
in the early part of the present year, aged 47 • He published, among many
other inipurtant works, the second edition oF Karauisin's History of Russia,
and the finest edition of Krilow*s Fables.

.MiMMaMaMi^>aa«aaH»rtHi»aa

( 491) )

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL NEW WORKS

PUBLISHED ON THE CONTINENT,

THEOLOGY AND ECCLESIASTICAL LITERATURE.

150 Hcnrioti, Hibtoire g^n^rale de Tfiglise pendant les IS^mc ct 19eme Siecles.

Tom. I. 8vo. 48. 6d.

151 Mazfcres, Code 9acr6 oo Expos^ comparatif de toutes lea Religions de laTclre.

Fol. 2<. 129. 6d.
i5t Tberemin; Dr. F., Abendstunden. 9\er Bd. 8vo. 8a,

153 Hasert, Dr. C., Prcdigten Ubcr die Epistehi und freic Text, later Bd. 8vo«

10s.

154 Straoss, Dr. D.y Das Lcben Jesu. 1 stc Liererang. 8vo. 8s.

155 Klaiber, Dr. C, Die neu-tcsiamcT^tUchc Lchre vou der Smidc liud Eriosung.

«ro. 148. '

156 Be«r, J., Erbattangs-Reden fur Aktideniikvf und habere gtbiidcte Christen.

3te Saminlang. 8vo. 12s.

157 Cotmar, Bischof von Mainz, Predigten* Ister Bd. 8vo. 8s.

158 Hatoanni Bischuf su Mainz, Predigten. gr. 8vo. 8s.

159 Journal fiir Predlger. Von Brettschneider, Neander, und Goldhorn. 1836,

gr. 8to. U:

160 Neft/Geschiehtcdtrr KirdieJesu Clirisli. 8vo. 7s.

161 Rfittken, Die Bri«fe Pauli an die Korinttier. lst«r Thl. gr. 8vo. 14s.
169 RIegel, Compettdittfti d. ehrisll. Mural, t llilc. 8vo. Ids.

16S Sttlvgdor^Oeflchlditcd.MosaisclkeuIintittUionenaiidd.judtstheDVoftks. SlerBd.

8vo. 8s.
164 Rauschnick, Oeschicbte d. deutschen Geistllcbkeit 1m Miltelalter. 8vo. 5»,

LAW AND JURISPRUDENCE.

165 Froben, EroteruDgend. Rom. Recbts. ftcrBd. Ste Abthl. 8vo. 8s.

166 Gaertner, Finium Culpae in jure criminali Burgtindorora Prolusio. 8vo. Ss.

167 Taotch, Recbtafaile aus dem Ciril- und Criroinal-Rechte. Ister Bd. Sees Heft.

8¥0^ 79.

MORAL PHILOSOPHY, METAPHYSICS, EDUCATION,

AND POUTICAL ECONOMY.

168 Sisroonde de Sismondi, Etudes sur lea Constitutions dcs iieuples libres. 8vo. 7»«

169 Gibon, H., Fragmens pbiiosopbtqucs. Pr^c^d^s du disceurs prononce a Touver-

ture du cours Je 7 Janvier 1836. 8irb.

170 Rriibe, A*» Album d'un Pessimiste. Vari^^s littdraires, poKtiques et philoso-

pbiques. 2 Vols. 8vo. 15s.

171 Moreau, iies faeult^s morales, consider^a sous le poiat de voe nedicai. 8vo. 59«

173 LkWeh, V. Auszng dcr Wisscnswurdj^ste^^^^

174 Hoftmanii. Dr. K., Die Cnitralplillosophkjm Grundrissc. 8<io, ,15s.'"' • .

175 SuaUdissen. Die Grund«5gc <>.»lHtHf/h^tJc.' ^^Vor :48. ' 'T "' ^ v ^ ,

•.» »

MATHEMATICS, PHYSICS, AJJD dtiMlSTRY/

177 Peyrard, Lecoiis dc Malh4^iifi|^uti</^foI/IS^Jl/i

178 Ulricli, L«lirbuch d. rcinen Muilieiiialik. 8vo, 15s.

179 Ru»g«?, EiqIeituipg.mtiiic.tefkn»cteChB«l«orur:3<?^^ SlBf iSaf'Tafehi.

Bvo, XL Is. ,. . ...,» y.ri'f V III '■ ' i .' I ' :• "*..iv^- ' I* ''' : '-

NATURAL,gci|;f^CE^/ .;%^'%;^

Tom. I. 8vo.. ■ PluiwBes..- ^ vri'l. ^ITl^NtU: '^ ^^^' ^^'W^to-

181 Duclos, Hisloirc nalurelle d<-\onsNcs feciircs dt'lCfoquiires m^^^^^^
I 6tat vifunt fossile. Genre Olive. Li?r. I. & II. Fol.

183 KirsclilcRcr, Prodrome 4v. I« Flore d'AUacfc ,:JJiBq.;4Pij n ; ■ w "

184. AbtHMuHKHHd 4teiWrtbWnr*«' bAiuritcilcii Sch.netlelllM»'De.lic»,ta»i|* onh

190 Hcrrirh-Scluiffer, Die «:^nis<}^art. Inscclen. 'itL,^. ;8vQ,t'*iv/ i

191 Pbiiip^i/EHi««H*tio M^nifldHiiS mciflL;''\^^^^^ ifios:

'^ Nc« ». Escnbeck, Natprge^hufi^^dl!? l/uro^«i,.);^, to;^^^

- ., . »i ..'*>/•.■ i:'>i',v: •••»»•' « -l) tr -^l'/' ,1 ^iJ- '-.ti .'•

AlEDICAL SCIENCES. •'' • ^

197 Lcpcllctier, TraitC' dc rErysip4l<;. gyj^ p,^ ^^

Jo2 J^'T'^vJ-^f '\^ <*^^'';,7,«j'^'^^>*«'»* cH irctrfemiereLifr. lis.

199 Pauly, Maladies dc I'Ut^rus, d «|>res ies Jf^ons.cliiii^ycs ^Q.M,vX4rf^

OB. Li' * ' ' • * ''•'i

dans Ies r^tac^s. 4to. 6s. -'« *"• i >.,.,- ..M"^V'.^''»W*i^ «*^««»»cn
Championiiiere, Rcclierches prall^Xies ydVJ|i\fi^rapcihTquc d«la'k^^^ Bia •

^'slir'^Ss^' ^'*^""'' ^"^"^ ^^ th^rapeutiquc 91 de4ii^tici» nnfi^^c^, . T^'.-i

203 Sanson, Des Ji^iuorrbBgirt^'tr«i*rtfttiqb^:''^v6: ' tJs;'' " ' ' , ' •'''';
m Beck, AbWld«»ge«^^Knl«^^

X05 Krause.HaudbuchdermenschUAnQtomie. IstcfB^ eUriHefu' ftw^ W •

300
SOI
SOS

PuViUKea on ilie Contmeut. 50 1

20« Tfeii*[*manrt,ttysiologicdcsMeiischen, 3tcr Bd. 8vo. !<■.

?(>7 Kronenbcr^ Plcxuuin ncrv9ffuin.atrtt<;^ar« 9t viiriiHeiU Cmir YliL tabuli^ * 8vo.

8s. " ■'■ '"* ' \ ' ." -- • '

908 Panizta, D'k* Terrictitungc'ii dcr Nerreiiv :8r9. 39*.

209 SobGrnbetm, Haadbucli dcr j>r«klbc^, AiAddioflteMehre im<4«beMart^r Form.

gr. 4t«J. 1/. ■
$10 , DeuUchlandi Hcilquellen im physikalitcher, cbenitsclicr und tliera-

peutischer Bcziehunc. 4to« 5u ,

MISeE]LLANEOXJS.

t ¥ '

J 1 .51 '-''-•' - •

21% ^rifss.deS, M. Clwrles.X,, reco^illies et aiimb on ofArt pA M. !e Dot <Te ',

autear det Soir^s de Louis XVIII. 2 Vols. 8vo. 15s.

SI 2 Dudos, Dictionnaire g^o^rai des vlllcs, bourgs, villages et barocaux de la France,
&c, 8vp. 168. , '

213 Fragmens, Naples et Veni^. ' 8f o. 8s.

214 Tr^sgr de Numisroati^ue et de Glyptique, he. UvJ^ 86— 96* Fol« 8k< ieiKli.
9 Id V<yiMier, WSrtcrbuch der Mjtbotogie. 9tc lief. Qto* 3s.
216 Stoli, Anweisung z. oricntfil. MbIcii:j. 8vq, 3$» '

1 •! . I<

mSTORY, BFOGRAPHt, VOYAGES, TRAVELS, &c,

, * 1 f 1 I

2 17 Arcbives curieuses de l*Histolrc dc France^ pttbl» par Cimber et -D»njou« ireSeriv*

Tbm.VIir. 9w(f, ris. •

218 Thierry, Lettres sur rUislove de France. 8yo., 8s>

219 B<chMi» Quel^ubs Soarenlrs deCouries eii Suisse et dans te Pays dc Badea^ 8ro.

8s. • .'.,:•

220 Micliaud et ^mjuufttt^^ouv. dollect^oti de9 I^to>fre» pour secvUd I'Histoiw'de

Frtlhce. ireS^^ic. Tom. 1. 8vo, 6^

221 Fauriel, Histuire dc la Gaulc ro^rjdionale sous W domiunlioi) 4kis CMiqii^rtM ger*>'

mains* 4 Vols, 8to.' U, lit* , . , ^ . •

222 Souvenin et M4fDoires d^ M«(fame U Comtcsse Merlin. T««u I. ^.li^ 8io:

15s. ,/..,. I . ■ r .'

223 Vambagen von Fuse, Qaleri^ i^n BififiiUsen- aus tlol^er^ Uvgiiilg.lind Britf*

ivecbscl. 2Bde. 8vo. 'l4s.
2J4 -.^«** i.,.1 r.^ >L.^ *-^, Leben des General's Karj v. VVinterfeldl* Bvo-i NSsi
ft'2b Bucbols, v., Geschiclitc der Rc^ierung Fefdniiaucl L .. 7lci Bd. ftiwi IL U*' '
t'i6 Pfizer, Martin Lntber*s Lebcn. 3te AbiUU 8*0* 3a., •. , '

2i7 Ortich, ¥;, Friedridi Wtlltelm der grossc Kurfiirst. 8vo. 15s.
2^8 WilUtiitter, Allgem. Gescbicbte des Israelit. Volks. 8vo. 59.
2^9 Gros»-Hoffingeri Ocsterreich iu Jabre 1835, und die Z^icUen d. Zelt in Teutsch*

land. 8vo. 9s. "' •:: 1 '

PQETRY, THE DRAMA, &c.

■ . ' •

' 230 Ein]>i8, Lord Novarf. Ceiiiedie eii 5 actcs* 8vo. 4s.
\ 231 Robin, Li viji. Poeme dramas 8vo. ,7'* *

^ 232 Iji Mori d*Ab<r. Tbcnic en 5 cliants. 18nio, . .

233 D'Ouilly^ Tbcrcsr. Rorean en vers. 8fo» 644.

23 S Le'Bardtf.' 7a6nca(i6n deCliansons, Romances, etc. sous la direction de Jouftfan*
Tom. I. 8fp. . . ,

235 Daytd, Selfm IH. Tragedie. 8ro. 58.

236 Mallcfiiie, Les sept enfans de Lara.t Drajiia. ,8«o« 7«. ..

237 Minstrel^ der. TaKhenbuch ersiiiilender DicbtWHfOn* l8now 5s.

238 Theuter-Witse ti^nd SchaUspTeler-Fahrten. 8vo. 3s*

239 Korx, H., OedicbCe. 8vo. 5s.

340 Ublaffd'i Oedicbte. lOtc Auflage* 8fo. ISs.

' »»

502

last ef New IVorks.

8vo. ts

S41 Kletke, H., Gedicbte. Svt^ 4^
24S Lieder dcr Liebe. Svo. 4t. 6d.

243 Lotzc, Karl X. Im Jahre 1832 in Schottland. Dramat. Sceue, &c.

244 Lenau, Faust. £in Gedicht. 8ro. 8s.

245 tieUnwim, Oedichte. Bvo* di» 6d.,

NOVELS AND ROMANCES.

246 Muretf Mademouelle de Montpeniier. 2 Vols. 8yo. 16s.

247 Jacob, Pignerol. 2 VoU. 8y^ l^a*

248 Malpiere, Le Purgatotre the Sidnt ^lAribe. 2 Vols. 8wk 15s.

249 AUart, I^ttMsia. 2 Vois. 8vo. lds«9

"250 Bodin, Une Passfon en Proviooek 2 VoU. 8to. 15s.

251 Senriei, Le Demon do Midi. 2 Vols. 8vo. 15s.

252 Souli^, Deux S^jours. Province et Paris. 2 Vols. 8vo. 15s.

253 Ricard, J^es g^^s Paiens. 4 Vols. lSi99* < ^U. / i ,

254 Jan« la Pale. 2 Volt. 8vo« I5s.* *

255 Paul le Tou. 2 Vols. 8vo. 15s.

256 Beraud, Le Pendu. 2 Vols. 8vo. 15s.

257 I^eoomte. L'Abordage. Roman maritime. 2 Vols. 8ro. 15s.
25S Vocal tba, Maroo, ou TEspagnol proscrit. 8vo. 8s.

259 Magnieo, MofteV-Angeou Denial}. 2 Vols. 8vo. 15s. ,

260 Amaud, Pierre. 2 VoU. 8vo. 15s.

261 Kruse, Der Geitterbanner. l2raQ. 7a*

262 -, Schweres MitwisscR. — Der Dieb. 12mo. 7s.

263 Lorenz, Anna von Koburg. Eomasu 12mo» 7j4

264 Terpen, Skixzen nacb d. Leben. 2 Bde. 12uo. 15s#

265 Arnim* Burg Frankenstein. 3 &de. 12rao. I5s.

266 Ceiichtete, der. H'lslor. Eosun. 3 Bde. 12roo» 18&,

CLASSICAL LITERATURE, PHILOLOGY, AND

BIBLIOGRAPHY. . . ,

267 Repertorium d. Lileratot ▼. Gcrtdorf. 8tcr Bd. Syo, 15*.

268 Phaedri fabulae Aesopiae. Ed. C. HoflFm^i. 8*0. 8»*

269 Taciti Gcrraania. Ed. Jac. Grimm. 8to. 48.

270 Virgilii ci Culpun^ii Bucolica. Ed. Gracoff. 8ro. Ss.

271 Oraff, AHhDchdeutariHcrSprachschat*. 6te Licferung. 4to. Ts.

272 Scholia, De Vita SoplWiclis Pttetae. 6vo. 3s. fid. '

273 Maurer, Comment. Grammat. crit. "in Vetus Testaraciitum. Vol. L 8to. 145.

274 Virgilii Aeneis, mil Erlautwongen vonThiel. 2 Bde. Sto, I5».

275 Inscripiiones Graccac. Inedtt. Ed. Ross. W*:. I. Bto. f^

INDEX

TO TSB

SEVENTEENTH VOLUME

OV TUB

FOREIGN QUARTERLY REVIEW.

A.

Aim^'Martin (LJ), De VEdueatiim des

Meret d§ FamUU, ^79»f 06.
AUiander, eldest son of the Enperor

Nicholas, anecdote of, 461.
Algitn, femarks or the cavse of th^

French expedition aoaiiist, 19 1«
AnifMtted Maliirt, number of •pectes dis*

covered a«d supposed ^iotcf if| «% ^60--

171.
AntiquariUf Society of, works undertaken

by its SaxvQ coinniitteey 390. -
AnlucOf in Chili, alanu at, on account 4l

the Indians, 23, «4^vallejr of, 25.

B.

halkan^ passage of tiie, 468, 469.
Barkow ( Dr. A. F.), hn R^mmut Bui^^-

dwmum, 48.
BaitagUa (Oiacinto), Giovmnna Prima,

aoooont of the work, 473-— observation

on the laQgui^(9i 47 4>
Bemier'^A.'), Journal d$$ Etats Oiniraux

d§ Frane§, tgnttt a Tours tn 1484, re-

dig4 on Latin par Jokan MxMolin, pub-

l\6 it traduit par, 36t^accoo»t of the.

work, and extracts from it, 379 — 38S.
Blacquo (M.), character of, 194.
Blume (F.), Ler Dot, rive Blotaicarum U

Jiomanarum Legum Collatio, 48.
Booking (Dr. £.), Corpus Legum, rive

Bradiyiofui Juris CiviUs, 48.
Boie, remarks on his correspondence witli

Mei«k,399, 400.
Books, new» published on tlit ooDtioeot

from Janaorj to March, 1836, t48 —
S5«— from Mftnch to June, 183^, 499—

do«.

Botfa(CarroX Storia d* ItalUi, 60^hU hi-
ducement to undertake a continuation
of Gutcciardiiii's History, 64.

Bre^igity (M. de), sent by the French
government to search the English
archives for documents illustrative of
the liisfpry of Prance, 305-*bis tccount
of the state in which he found them,
368—370.

Birigarimt^ ditfitfler «f| 468i

C.

C*4i«S'appeavance of the co«t near, f9.

GatharmiMhof, promenade in the parkof,
463,

Candia, siege and reduction of, by the
Turks. 69—72.

Cantu (Cesare), La Madonna d^Imhevtre,
47 1 — character of the work, 478.

Chabailk (P^ Le Roman du Renan, $96.

Chantp^ion te Jouno, Moneoients of
Egypt and Nubia, frum drawings eie*
-cotea under his direction, 110— IcO.

Childebert and Chhtaire, their berbaious
murder of their nephews, 143, 144»

ChiU, appearance of the coast of, 5— •im-
proved state and foture pmspeeu of, 8
— oommerce and productions of, 9, 10
—cattle, 11 — elcvaiioR of ihe coast of,
by means of earthquakes, IS— 16-*
immense beds of shells on the coast of.
Id— birds which frequent the beach, 18
-^the cacurrito, 18, 19— genera! re-
narka on tbe popelation f4, 46-*-48.

504

YN^iiji^ji.

Chilperie, King of Sotnons, liiitory of his

reij^ii, 145 — 150.
€hlo£fmir, municT of hisVblidh*h b^ tMr

unclc5» 143, 144.
Chlotitire becontcs sofc KiA^ of Che TtuvUs,

145 — division of iiis empire ftttidng^bU

sotis, ib,'
Chlovis, King of the Franks, bis rDlgp«

141, 149^dinsron of bis donilutonB

among his four sons, 14f , t43. '
Circassian*, plan adopted by tlie Riissiiui

government to coiidfiatc thcni,' 46$\
Civil law, review of works on, 48 — 50.
Coc«p/ant, description ot5$— 40.* ' ^
Ctitsction de Docntmnts irt^iiu suY l*ffU-

Vblogne, •Mjrnifng' ChromcU df, t^il-^'dis*
tensions itetw^eti .^hc uristocrircy Bu4
eHistns of, ««6. f«7. ' * ^V

C&rhnfrsotimi-Iidiidort tftr itenesten Zdt
und Literatur, 553. r

€d5ppi (A.), Annali ff intHa^ 60^i:lra-
Ta<^r of Msiirorfci 96;

Cf^tifCM, remirrlraob, X6$i *

Cii^a, TemtrkftUe «mel{ on- afi^trotti^ug
tlie cfNist of, 5, 6. * - . ' ' * ^

GftfNv^'^incenso), itinftrks otfiilf works,
449, 450.

C^tiiiH (Motquis^de), lA'M!tMdbci>ihn(dii

* I

.*.^ v« -'

D.

^. «•••

Dtnmnn^, Ktemrj ItUetf^nce fiToin, 4^
ttihdi^ {Br. T. F.), his drsonptioii of (he

• Imperial Library al' Vienna, fW.
Vttden (O.). Berickt jSthet ehte fletii nu^h
(fen iii>esHiehm StatUtn'Nifrd^^^iMfHeat;

' aiMl Bnropa uhd DtuUeftland'vok JfitM*

^ • ^ «

l^f, Mliea of Wftllensteili at, <i6^, 1f6«
corious anefe'ht bf^kHhg'lHetvv ?tHI.^ .

Egypt Mitd NiUritt; MinnihvtHs i^f^'pnh^
• Hah«d fitHii' tlio'^esfgns ^fxeeWfetl *on\[teV
the direction of ' C^smpolliOfi ' f1i9
younger, -^ 10-— *ie. - • »• - .^«»"

£jf^ypti«nv, aficietit,- tbefir inifi^i^ iidcira-

- tMH^MMts, iii«Dasti«i«fr,*--Mid*' fi^ovte of

ilsliting, &c« 116 — ItO— nutc oit'ificii;

knbwiedgi^'or c4fyitiflti^y'tin^afh;b\tt)iV

^.^. • 'J-'"'' ' --'ti'. lit V" t»V .i.;i'
Emt^ation, reflta<l$ 0ffi'9fe;*?l9.^^A«\
£j(n)|)«, ^owparlsoti of'lbb f^n^r "kiA-

. preaent stale ofs^oi^^'fiiy^^^^th
Etutoce tAe Afianlc, roil»nce of, 102 — 105.

•ii'i .'■•.lili''*: it. jJo'l^i' "h'j (11 J»

Foscolo (Ugo), remarks on, 445, 446.
France, literary intelligence frooi,

t41.490— 494. .
France, history of during the conasbte

and empire, 317 — 36Vi— poUpctioii of
' tidf»«b#bd^ 4^o\^V^'i]iJI7ml!n: U
' WhTstbrytff.'S^: ^-^ '■• '

FrhnUt, earw history ofthc^ rtt^l56,
^fi^c^(fi^,fiiitO^ aU(taif(k:1qittS^enKlfk!s

of, 146— 15*. ., ' " ' *\i
^Fftneh Hieratui-Si^hktiltm'tkiifiwcc

Piickkr-Mosfem, 96^ ^m.^ ■ T "

,1 .11- ..:- ':il g^b t 'i^ii -J.' ''.

Calvani, Luigi, notice of his discovery,

454.
Gavamy, aropbillieaUe of, described, 968

fro. . . ' .

Cenoa^ conspiracies agaios^ tbe gov^m-
^ liierJt ofJ'Zrf^^^bOinTJafd^ %r the
^ French, 76. ,

—244. 495 496. ' *

^M-t^ M(f^ie, i^tfy^^'otbtk iUm^k

*■ /i- ft^ifett*; d7— itfi^ *'.' •^**;^ •/ * •

GtmHiRna Pni^cr, neginttWiripdk, 47f.

GbtAe, remarks on, ami ei tracts from, his
correspondence with Merck, 401-— 405.

Gontaga (Ferdinand), last Duke of Man-
tua, bis rharactr/, 8f . , .

^riecei iXiB/TBttn'ot^^ fef^fie^f; 469,
47&-— censure of the regency ajid go-
vernment of, 470, 471.

Grimm (Jacob), RHaard Fhc&i , 986 — bis

notions concerning the lequisiles for

coiittructing fables, tSSTrinquirv coo-

cefftitlg 4!te Ortgirt -Jf W4irtl?:t9l«--

'1ii«Vo?k* ghHWe bMMt iRgiraiifttoati

tweto Wth* i^jHit brMQW4;'9(ni-

inquiry concerning the aathor, ik.—
analysis of a portioii of the storv, 306—
308— his opinion tinceming the author
of the Flemish Reynard, 3i0, Sll^
Groote (E, ttmY,-^tM'mm^'^MtMt

«t5— tt7. , •*•*- ''-

vente, 47l^<|h«/«tef'tor?VdW-'«ffatC5

• 4foro^1fte^lf,><«m-4W5 •*♦ •-•'»•

Gnicc^ardini, t|ie first general biatprHlif of

4taiyj'hWcM^i,Hc*»*W-^^l^** ^ '

G«is0t (!lf.),inv2isdre!r '«a«|f»«ll' %y\Am

for the pttblicatioii of inediled doca*

|,^^B|^5i.

M?

ni«nU III the n^ioiul archives rela-
tive to tlie iiistory of France, 371-^
076 -r M^ork» iiy.fi^pnralloB by. Uie
Coininiision HiftoriQMi;* ;ipQui|)t£d by

/fer«i«r,axini^f^J)rpm hi^ wrrwpondcqcq,

Horn, Cape, described. S.

/f 11^4) ( Viclor), Marie Tudor, 417— analy-
sts of the tneedy^417— 4f5— cliarac-
let of bis works, 4t5— 4«8.

• « • " ^^

.' ' » - ,#• A.

ltaluMvwrh»dM'$^^ rimiarlil 9q.4i7.*.
Jloij^, hblory of Ji^vK]en9kd0^.9ar-litQjrary

. f P*^l*<P9c»'.fro«« A^- 497*

jW . ( A.)» P<^,?urts,XNaBl^ 48^43^

'• ^'

; ' . ' .' .'J ' .. •* / ,1 ,-, 1 ^ . • . ^

IT

KefirUeiH^ (;^4).,lil3,pQ9>pom»P0.4tt ti»e
, iiunil^er «f Jt^^sU Af^c^^*- «C prgapic

,»«•.' I -.,'*

1.. . • I •»

4.

liif^i^ iwperija^ «t Viimoa^'biilory .of,

i4ffi#k ilecrim« pfr wealtiv at^ ylu coiMf:-^

Queo^e Qrih^^rei^tSoii, 3t. • .,, ,
LUemry Noiim» misc«l|flK«MP*i ^^«
• ^pfp^t • , * . » ..••»>

lauii Phillip, Ulig of lb0.Vrirn<;ii|„his

< • <

I . , '-'

M.

JM«^Miv«Ui|.pRrUo«^ar& p^ncernlng. 69^

^affa, order of, projected restoration .^f,

f6^. .• ,'.' . » „• ,« ,

Ji^mmaU^, .tlie». rea^iriut o<i, 1^5—1 68.
Medici, l)Qu&e.or» sumomry o/ .its history,

^. .95^» •

.ftf0g<^asattruf| cpQ^cturt* s as to its nature,

144.
Metiione^a, bi«a)^fa».t at, 484«

^86-— dvscriptiou af the. work, ;S08 —
,, inquiry coocerniog ike authors of iht

oran^bes wluch Goipposo ii. .
Micea, Pietro, beroio aciion <)f, 8a, 86.
J|«f Aotfi, grand dttke of Russia^ auecdort

of, 461, 462.
Mkhautk (M«X tii9toitfi,de$ CfV>iude9^

176 — his wruQg< usQ of (ho tcms ci-

viliaation and Wl^«risnir X7ar-19Q'-*
. smpoiary of bis.Va^ In tbe.Kiist>
' 196—^06. . .

Uicim4.t^tt4i P^/^ffiulat (iVfi9ssin«), Cprr$5^
' paHdanc§d*0rient,lt6. ,} ;•: .

MUhtlfiJ(j{W&aqfie)^iHmw ^. U Via*
ietu par GiUrt di MomMuU^.&^-^Bo^
man ^EuUaehe U Maine, ib, — Trisian,
i6.— account of the latter work, 106
—109.

Middla Age Literature, extension of the

^hSf^t, (%)f, Jhg9CUHmixrdfitwe$ 4. (b
iuceation d*titpagne 4^«, Ijmk XIV„

: 80^~^pbaracter ctt tbip work. ^%,

Afi7<ui,.c^lb«dral of, 485,.486^Us fen-
t(^iui» . 480-rprese(U aspet^t of . iu
society t and ataie of public feeling in,
487.

MoUueca, remarlts on, 16S»

Mont (F. J.), Reimrdui Vulpet, 286—
bis fanciful; and unfounded views re-

• M>eo^ Ibewei^ ipnintcd uut^ 999^
50it-aualysis(»f Ihe poom, Sm-^SOo.

Mwkn/s, Indiaoi oiAlhod of tanunf . 4S.

Ma?il^ V^iceoao, aocoant of bia life and

. works, 4J4-n440. i . .

AftfiiMmMls de VEgifp$it eL de la Nukie,

J,«0,

', 'J i

/ .'»

Mi9^jfir(BraQcesco>,M4 defienf e^of Can-
dia, 70 — 7 t-^bis subsequent operatleiis *
againrt:theTttrlt|i,7f,73«. .

M^l-Cl. F. Mon), GiuchiekU der.Hi^^
hMi0lhtknt,XVHih.iU.

< . .1

•I"' * •:" I', I • .

* .1

&06

IKD^X.

JH.

Ntpottmt uMRoira of, Slt-^Sdl^^^cawM
pursued by him during the discuMion
of Um altemtlom «• be Mwte hi the
conatitution of the jear 1](^ StO — Itis
iafliwace 1» the ftHMtion of • oeettl-
tution, 389— ietter from him to Talley-
Mnd, «6.-^Ma iMkitte of Meyet^ gniiid
electovi 3f3» ftM-*-«ot ftkntdltf to m«*
nicipal independence, 326^1im owu>
opiiiien of iHe conttltutioii ef Uieyear
VIII«,327*-he appoints the second and
third consels, the oeencil of state and
the aenatora, 5t9-^takM poMcssion of
the Tbtleries, 350 — cttabllshei tlie
old etiquette, S3t^liies hiniseif in the
palace of 81. Cl««d, 9S%^tm ienity
to the bosta|ea and the prieets, SSt —

• faia arhitittry trtatment-ef tlie public
press, 337, S3ft^liis re^estallMiment

. of the CatlMlie cliuKbi S3ll«^$4«~hls
eaatlaicRta e« mn op|>Mltk« to the

• meesuRMi of the gevtrnmeol, M^-^his
aentMMata napeetiftg sia?ery) 348 —
part talteo br him in tlie dlsomvion on
Ibo cetabiisiiiaeAt of the k^glon of
honour, 349— SSI—appolated consul

' §OtMfm, aftt^HliMftgtf» between him
. and a oMnioillov of state after the peace
of Aniens, a54^35tf->«aiineKeB Pted-
Boot to fimiiee, 366--pwelalroed em-
peror, 389.

Jiapim, eonqoeied by tlie Austriuni, 88—
frdtteed kf «lMflfia«laMlsrd9«4wMfita
attending that event, 90.

NatwrotJiiMoiy, on the study of, IM—
review of its different classes, 158 —
167-- variety of organic beings, 169—
lTl-«ita noMendutnrei ir^^benefits
reaiitting Ifom ice study, 198-r^trd.

N$gram, daUgeMattcMdiog' their lanliipli.
cation fai tbe states of South America,

4#«*^4a;

NkeeHmi (O. B.), Tragedio di, t«l— -le-

• flMrka on: his oliBMieier as a peM, tf 1,
Its— his PoUsiena, It^^hia Antonio
Foicarini, ttS, lf4»^hls lAidevico
8foraa, l«4>^-4lie SMimn Vespers, 184
-^lSl***-Nabuc€o, hie masler-piece,

. iSt-*^39.

NirMei (^mperbr), Ma person nnd cha«

racier, 458-^false feport of nn attempt

to assassinate him, 465.
Niemey^ (Professor), his remarks on the

observance of the Sabbath in Kogland,

«12--«14.
Mirwijf, Utemry lntoHigeii«9 from, 944.

OfimUul

M)g, Mo^ WY*

P.

4.

PekumdiA iudittm, deat^ibed,

t6--<-28.

P#tfiiiMf , 9mA9wtS tlM fWkrdtJM, 4^
• 466.^
Bsi^ dienry piotpeol of tim coeat of.

•^-*4t»«ilMia« niMfttr, dD^eHoaie ef

ihe Peruvian AndeB,'ttU««Unle of, 35.
. 36«-«Miti «#/-8fW •
Peruviam, their propennty>tQ eerk for

treasores, S4.'
I*9ifiimwet (CMBt), irirffi»» rfa fintma,

Piifve, Pfoo'd», » voleuM of GUfi, fS,
86. *

FimtnUl (GlAonOra Ponsecn), Iter execo-
tion, 446.

P«ad#m0iife (Ippotito)^ particulers of lih
life and worka, 440---44^

P«peii successleit oQ Hi Ike ITth oentorf .
67—69.

»H^1S^ fOv* BiX iMe 4n CMH^ Wem.
&c., 1—48 ^pian Msd results ef his
• treoeN, ^— obiHWAleiii^oii hli Msage
PKkm Philadelphia to the Sew Seas,
3— bis luleiitiMi of ftiMn^ M^ndoxa
defeated by the kMi of bis inHnmients,
]9**»sMkf fwm Godceptidn ferCallao,
89— is bitten bv n aerpent, 40— his
dangeroQt sHoatfon and recovery, 41—
his ^eynge (td#if th4^'Haatlag^ river,
48^and down the AnuM0ii9» 43, 44—
arrival at Para, iuBra^, 46.

P^fnises, immense akoal of, 4w

Pan/olio, The, or a CeOeitnta of Sute
Papers, 838—835.

IVetfflr<et, (bishop of Rouen), hb barbar-
ous muRler, l9t.

PucUfr-Afiiskatt (Prince), W^ktster
Weltgarrg van StmiUmo, 8SS-*e9ttiiiate
of his charterer, 853^856— portrai-
ture of himself, -866^853— charscter
of his work, tt58 — 861~«ettnKts from
it, 861— sro^Kematka eti Gdtk^ le-
connnendatiofi of bh '•Totfp In £ng-
land," 871.

•II*. 1

R.

Raumer(?, von), Bngiand im JmhH 1835,
kK)9-**«lmr«e«er and.opinkmi of ihe aa-

Ltl^DEX.

S07

. i

thor,. 909»— Sftt>^)iit reoitflis on the
stela of Iffciand^ 911, 319^^his notiona
TOTp«rti»g thg- oNart— cc ol. the Sab<
bath oontxBited with ttese M Nmiejer.
SIS — S14 — his remarks on schools, and
univenitics, S14, S15— his nukpendent
character, SI 61

R»ptUetf fcmarks on, 164.

Jitt9r<2f> piihlic» in Baglaod^ cuaineMtion
of, 367^8tafet of those at the fixche-
qncc and in the Tower is «7f>4» 068.
369 — roeasores pursued by government
ibr the pobliceUon of some of lbem»
370, 371 — sengealloiis to tlie eomreis-
sten appointed for this porpose, 376 —
378— works undeKalMA bjMhe eooaus-
: sien, 384^386.

Reynard the For, new versions of, S86 —
517^oiigiii of thftslprj, Sa7*-iU early
popularity, S89 — S91 — origin of tlie
iwiie, S9j( •^Inquiry tmteetmki^ the
countries in which the stories of Rey'
pard took their rise, S93. S94'^exBmi-
nation of works for whic^ the popu*

. larily ol Reynard's history furnished
occasion, 294*^3 l7<--Caxton'8 trans-
iatioD'of tha storyj Sl^-^earJy allusions
to it, 313^315.

Hickter (J^n Paul), topolegical explana-
tion of hit geninsj S6S, S6S.

Raera^ Biodata Saiutta, her poem on Ip-
paxie,' 446.

Rosimi (Giovanni) Ittaria d* Itaiia diMetser
Frenciica Guieeiardim, 60,

Rtmiat literary intelligence from, S44,
1245.497,498.

Rusua, remarks on her conduct towards
Turkey«t06^S09- population of, 458
r^miiitarv schools iii^ 466^^its military
and naval force, 466, 467.

Rutsiant, their jnatoral talents and dex-

S,

Savi^y, house of, foundatiou of its power

in Xlaiy, 65— its wars with the French,
. 77—79. 83— 87— raided to the royal

dignity, 88«
Scene iiiQviche dsl Mtdio Eva in Italia,

47Sr>ficcouiitof^ and extracts from, 474

—478.
Sea, singular appearance of, occasioned by

infusoria, 4, 5«
Setoarit and his wives, portraits of, at Ip-

8iirobul» 11S~^115 — ^resemhlanoe of his

portrait to that of Napoleon, 1 15*
Sharpe (Sir Cuthbcrt), his discovery and

intended publication of documents re-

klkig to the tkne of EHsebeth, 376,

377.
Smfet, bia pfan af • Mmtituiifm, $$0^

SS4.
Sautk (Sir Sydney), hia speculatlens and

projects, d66. S67.
Souk, arguroenta for tlie immortality .of the,

S79, saoL
jjpnin, litemrv intettigenc^ from, M6.
Sue (JSngene^yremnrks on his veyks* S^5,

t66. .
Swaineen (Mr«), his tabte4 of the nonber

of speeieaof es^anic beings, 169, 170.

T.

Tambobamba, ruins of en aneient city of
Pei«,a»«^84.

Ihbtmdmu. <A. C). M^maieatmt^ie Can-
mtH del799i 1804; and U€mmJaiet
rSkapin de 1789 A laU,. at7*-«361—
character of these works, 317—319.

TmTx (M.)> Errimerunp'Sfdaenaui Russ-
laud, der Titrkti,ufid GrieehenUmd, 457.

Turin, besieged by the French, 85 — 87.

Turkey, chamctQr and opinions of tra-
vellers iuy 176~»*S09 — remarks on the
reforms of tlie present 3ultany 194—
S06— on the political situation o^ S06
— S09.

U.

Vtfited i$taie$ qf America, works on, SI 7
—SSI. .

V.

Valparmsa, description nf, 6 — 9«
Vegeiahiee, their production and uses, 168.
Kmictf,.jts wars with iJie Tiirks, 66,

69— 73---preacal ^tate of, 488^ 489.
Vienna, imperial library at, liistory of, SSI

— S«4.
Vieeyt PhUetapkie de VHiUoire naiurtlU,

166—176*
Viscanti (Ennio Quirino), account of his

life and works, 450~«>i53,
Volta (Alessandro), .account of hun and

his important discovery, 453-*^456.
Var4oHi (Tereta Albarelli), her saGrical

workt, 44^^, 448.

W.

, ffw«r (Or. Kari), Bntfe an Jahann
Heinrich Merck, 391— particulars con-
cerning Merck, 391— 394— list of his

508

INDEX.

coiretpondenti, 394— charaeier of tlie

work, 394, 395.
WaUaehu and MoMavia, eharaclcr of the

inliabilanU of. 467, 463.
WalUtatan, reiki of liim, and room in

which he was put to death at Eger, f61«

Waiir, animated beings in» 158.
Weimar, grand duchess of, her correi-

pondenct with Merely, 4lf*-414.
— -i — t grand duke of, his correspondence

with Merck, 4t4— 416.
Wkiatid, remarks on, and extracts from,

his correspondence with Meick, 405—

41f.
WUUm (J. F.) Rnaaerf dc Koi, 3U.
W^ (Professor), Ills remarks on Monti's

mssevilliana, 437.
WemM, on tlie formation of the minds of,

f78 — iHliiience of the mother on the

diameter of the child, 173— tlie morale

of a country decided by them, 975-*

treatment of them in Fraiiee, f75, f76
•-H>bjects and elftets of their modem
cdqcation, 976, ff77 — importance of
religion in their education, 978* f84,
1^85.

ffarais, intestinal, origin and nature of,
160.

WitmUdel, the birth-place of Jean Paul,
96t, S63.

W^rm (Dr. C. F.), remarks on the Port*
folio, f39— S35.

Y.

riiaM, a viNage of ChUi, tO, <l.

Z.

;?MpftytM, remarks on, 161.

London:

0 aowoarn uidsoks, beij. tamiv
TkMfLa BAa.

ar

15

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