Brito, Brooke, Coke, Fleta (or the authors of the work bearing that name), Fitzherbert, Fortescue, Hingham, Littleton, Statham, Staundforde. The reign of Elizabeth was that which began to abound with persons learned in the law; and from that period, the number has gone on increasing. Indeed, if any proof were wanting of our superiority, we need but to say, Behold both countries! "Si monumentum quæris, circumspice." The very end and object of all political sciences is civil liberty.

Two men whom Voltaire was particularly fond of turning into ridicule, were Montesquieu and Shakspeare-and for the same reason-because he did not understand them. The greatest political writer that France has ever produced, and one of the greatest that has been known in any country, is unquestionably Montesquieu. It is said that this author, who had constantly meditated upon his subject during twenty years, gave his Esprit des Loix to be read by the man in France whom he considered as the best informed upon such subjects, and the most capable of pronouncing a just opinion of it; and that this friend, who, it seems, was more candid than enlightened, objected to the work in general, and particularly to some of the greatest views contained in it. "Then," said Montesquieu, "I see my own age is not ripe enough to understand my work; nevertheless, I will publish it." But not even the present age in France is ripe enough to understand him; and it is certain that, owing to the profoundness of his views, and the strength of his meditations, he is the only author of France who is generally underrated by his own countrymen. The praise which they bestow upon him has rather the appearance of what one Frenchman owes to another, in reverence to their country, than a just homage to the merit of the individual. Two things also the French cannot pardon in Montesquieu ; his having spoken well of England, and his assertion that honour is the principle of monarchy. We are inclined to do every justice to this admirable writer, who was so much above his age and nation. But it was not from his own age or nation that he learned to think. He had in presence the whole world, and all its ages past. Yet in his works may be found the marks of the time and place to which he belonged, as, indeed, the greatest mind can hardly escape such influences as those. He had no small share of the ambition which, about his time, began to infect the literary world of France; and a brilliant paradox, a dazzling epigram, enflamed him. His mind was comprehensive rather than great; for it allowed itself to be narrowed by affectation. What he had grandly seen, he often finically expressed and the language of his thoughts bore no just measure to his conceptions. In all his writings, perhaps, not an eloquent page could be found; for he studied to avoid all ornament: yet surely eloquence is less to be avoided than quaintness; and simplicity is not his characteristic. His style has been compared to that of Tacitus; but they are alike only in brevity, which, in the Roman, was more natural than in the Frenchman. He must be excepted also from a class of men with whom he has often been confounded, the Encyclopedists, to whom, in truth, he is very unlike; for he preached not the subversion either of religion or of government, and was not envious of any thing established. It must be a very lax principle of classification, indeed, that could bring Voltaire and him under the same description, as to intention; and the very eulogium which M. Chénier makes of the former, confirms this opinion. He says, that the eighteenth century is more indebted to Voltaire for its progress, than to any other single individual. To him, more than to any other individual, the eighteenth century owes,

we fear, its crimes. If, on the contrary, the French nation had studied and understood Montesquieu, they would have inquired of their own conscience and reason, before they began to demolish all the institutions of their country, whether or not they were yet capable of rational liberty; and if they had listened to the salutary negative which they must have found there, the world would have been spared from many useless crimes; and the cause of true freedom would have been more advanced by time alone, and by the progress which, in the present state of mankind, is inseparable from it, than it has been by all the outrages and precipitancy of France.

The subject which succeeds is Rhetoric and Literary Criticism. After enumerating the ancient critics of France, the first things which our author notices are a Treatise on Eloquence, by the famous Abbé or Cardinal Maury; in which the pathetic unction of Fénélon, the sublime majesty of Bossuet, the religious austerity of Bourdaloue, the exquisite and varied elegance of Massillon, are duly mentioned; two others by Lacretelle, and a translation of Blair's Lectures. Of the latter he speaks in very high terms; and, as he tells us in downright honesty, because Dr. Blair has spoken very highly of the French. One of the principal points which he notices, is pulpit oratory; and says, that the English will find him sparing of his praise to their Archbishop Tillotson. We shall bring under one head the observations we have to offer on the subject of English and French eloquence in general.

In the first place, then, we find it impossible implicitly to agree with Mr. Hume or Dr. Blair, that eloquence has declined in modern compared with ancient times. The eloquence of the two periods is certainly different; but its difference consists entirely in the means now and formerly employed, by orators, to win the consent of their auditory. Those means must, at all times, be suggested by the condition of society; which is itself dependent upon the state of intellect, and its development in the men and nations who are to be persuaded or convinced, Now, certainly the nations of antiquity were more governed by their sensations and passions, more by their feelings and less by their reason, than those which have risen to greatness and civilization in modern Europe. The entire difference in the state of past and present oratory, is owing to this single cause; for, from it, have arisen a variety of modifications in the forms of government, and consequently of debate, all of which have a tendency to diminish the influence of enthusiasm in national councils, and to bring the great concerns of men, as much as may be, within the pale of ratiocination. Impassioned eloquence, less frequently resorted to because less effective now, may have declined; but the eloquence of reason never flourished as in later nations. The most esteemed of the orations of Demosthenes, are those in which he aspired at producing a sudden and vehement impression, at inflaming the minds of multitudes, and awakening all that was generous in their natures to the defence of their country. Cicero never is so much admired, even at this day, as when he addresses himself to the passions of those he would persuade. But the orators of later times are always more esteemed when they endeavour to convince our understandings, than to captivate our feelings; and this characteristic pervades all modern eloquence, whether of the bar, the pulpit, or the senate. Many are the exclamations and tropes in the Greek and Roman models, which produced the mightiest effects upon the sensitive populace of Athens or of Rome, but which, with whatever gesture or modulation they might now be declaimed, could have no effect upon the

reason of a British Parliament. But a few weeks since, a member, even of the French Chamber of Deputies, observed, that the oratorical method by which Scipio Africanus shook off a charge of peculation, would not now avail a minister of finances; and we rather think that Mr. Tierney would look a little awry at a Chancellor of the Exchequer who, in reply to his calculations, should say, "This day last year I won the battle of Zama or of Waterloo.-Therefore why debate?" Yet certainly the oratorical movement of Scipio was not deficient either in energy, in pathos, or in grandeur. If it be true that human concerns are better governed by reason than by passion, that men are in the right when they endeavour as much as possible to commit their safety to the former, and to exclude the anarchy of the latter; that the former ennobles the species, and adorns the heart, gives strength and stability to all the good which sensibility can inspire, and robs enthusiasm of all its danger;-it is not easy to conceive how eloquence can be a loser, by addressing itself to the understanding. Is it more difficult to inflame, than to convince mankind? Does a sudden burst of feeling require a greater intensity of mind, than a long chain of inductions? Has the inheritance of thought we have derived from our forefathers, been of so little advantage, that, at this late hour of the world, no better means can be used to move us, than the rude engines of ignorance, employed while men were gregarious, not social? We grant, indeed, that many oratorical resources are now excluded from discourse. But have none others of equal beauty been introduced? Has not argument its eloquence, as well as explosion? and may it not be adorned with as many splendid illustrations? It were a paradox indeed to say, that what elevates the mind of man, debases the languge in which he is addressed. We may admire the orator who can play upon human passions at his will; but we cannot so much respect the nation that allows itself to be made his sport, as that which opposes the pauser, reason, to the precipitancy of his eloquence.

The eloquence of the moderns is characterized by the actual state of the human mind; and, not only does it differ from that of the ancients, but every nation has its peculiar oratory, more or less approaching to argumentative eloquence, in proportion as passion has been subdued and reason been expanded. In England, no mode of speech which could not stand the test of severe scrutiny could long be current; and, whatever be the place where Englishmen meet to discuss, little progress can be made but by argument. Nay, so true is this, that they who would mislead them, even in their most popular assemblies, must do it by the sophistry of reason, not by passion; and the road to their feelings lies directly through their understandings. Even their errors are imbibed in logical forms; and their minds must be convinced or entangled, before they can be inflamed. In our Parliamentary discussions, the proportion of argument very far exceeds that of pathos. The discourses of Lord Chatham, even in his most impassioned moments, were founded upon argument, which, indeed, he often enforced with vehemence and warm feeling; and, roused as he was to indignation, at the idea of the British employing Indian tomahawks, or at the perverted use a Peer proposed to make of the means which God and nature fhad put into their hands against their American brethren, he gave scope to passion; but it was not till he had long laboured to convince the Senate, by reasoning, of their impolitic conduct towards America, that, in a midnight debate, he implored their Lordships not to rob the Americans of the last hope of obtaining their rights, at that dark and silent hour, when honest men were in

their beds, and thieves alone were waking for their prey. The same thing, even in a greater degree, may be said of the orators who adorned the close of the last century; and what confirms our general opinion is, that the eloquence of the great speakers who were born in Britain, was more argumentative than the eloquence of Irish orators.

The eloquence of the Bar in France was, and is, nearly null. It appeared upon some very rare occasions, and but feebly; but was not habitual. In England, pathos is little used in pleading, and still less in courts of positive law than of equity; and in every case when too warm addresses are made to the feelings of a Jury, the Judge not unfrequently cautions them against the seductions of impassioned eloquence. In ancient Egypt and in Greece the pleadings of the Bar were written.

The eloquence of the Pulpit is that in which the French have the most excelled. The Church was indeed the only field there open to oratorical talents; and the Catholic religion, more imaginative than the Protestant, allows greater scope to imagery and pathos; while the latter is more richly stocked with argument and reason.

In proportion as a subject is solemn and sacred, the English conceive, that in treating it, passion should be excluded; and religion is so powerful and majestic in itself, that it needs only to be explained to the understanding of rational beings, to be appreciated. In fact, the pulpit is not the proper place for impassioned eloquence; which, if it guides us well to-day, may equally mislead us to-morrow: while all the sophistry of false reasoning never can pervert us so widely, or so dangerously. It is not because English preachers read their sermons that their style is tame: but it is because the object of Protestant preachers is to be calm, and argumentative, that, in this country, an appearance of extempore delivery is avoided. Arguments which come recommended by the sedateness of meditated composition, are more forcible upon the understanding than sudden suggestions; but half the energy of passion is derived from its freshness. Among the pulpit orators of France, Saurin, a Protestant, is distinguished for his gravity. In a word, the entire difference between the oratory of England and France may be thus stated: -the eloquence of the English is ratiocinative, argumentative, demonstrative; the eloquence of the French is imaginative, declamatory, impassioned. The former excel in the senate and at the bar, because they have long been free; the latter are more brilliant in the pulpit, because, as Catholics, they can indulge in oratorical forms, the frequent use of which is denied to British divines, by the moderation of Protestantism. These differences are to be accounted for, like all other national differences, not by a disparity of talent, but by a diversity of character, which acts as a check or as a stimulus to the growth of every faculty.

The two next chapters are upon History; the first real, the second fictitious. Three things, says our author, are necessary to an historiantalent, love of truth, and liberty; all of which, he adds, were wanting in most of the persons contained in the long list of French historians. At first, indeed, the deeds of France were recorded in chronicles written by monks, and in Latin. Joinville and Froissart were among the earliest who wrote in French; and their naïvete' still pleases. Philip de Comines painted, in sombre colours, the Court of the dissembling Louis XI. Seyssell was not an adequate historian of Louis XII. Brantome was a mere compiler of anecdotes; he is, however, very amusing. Sully, Perefixe, are interesting,

because their hero is so, Henry IV. It is much to be regretted that De Thou did not write in French. Then came Mezeray, sometimes too familiar, sometimes almost eloquent; superior to Daniel, and even to Velly and his two continuers. Bossuet needs no eulogium. St. Real, the alleged rival of Sallust, was not always correct. He who, by his vivacity and variety, came the nearest to the historian of Catiline, was the Cardinal de Retz, in his Mémoires. Then came Vertot, the Père d'Orléans, the Abbé du Bos, and Rollin, the most elegant and easy of all, but whose history is too much reduced to the level of youthful understandings. The Abrégé Chronologique of Hainault is also well conceived. Two men of genius flourished about that time, Montesquieu and Voltaire. The history of Louis XI., by the former, is lost but the latter, says M. Chenier, is the founder of a sect which has since spread itself over England, where public spirit and liberty are favourable to the labours of the historian. Condillac was weak in this branch of literature; but Mably is indispensable to every person who would study the progress of the French government. To this list he adds Gaillard, Reynal, Rulhières, and all the translators of the times. One of these we must notice. Mons. Lévesque, the translator of Thucydides, published a Roman History, the object of which was to depreciate all the republican heroes of that nation, in favour of despotism; and by order of Bonaparte, or at least under his special protection. We cannot pretend to enumerate every person mentioned and descanted upon by M. Chénier; but two of them we must speak of. One of these is Anquetil. His History of France is, perhaps, that which, on account of its moderate length and other qualities, is the most likely to be popular. It is written with little talentchiefly according to Velly, from whom whole pages are often transcribed. In his younger days, he had acquired some reputation by two historical works, l'Esprit de la Ligue," and "l'Intrigue du Cabinet." The other is Fantin des Odoards, a continuer of the continuers of Velly, and author of a miserable voluminous work, which he calls Histoire Philosophique de la Révolution," and who is remarkable for the reciprocity of abuse with which he and M. Chénier bespatter each other. Rulhières on Russia, and again on Poland, is among the first modern historians of France. Thouret is a useful abridger of Mably. Royau has lately published a shorter History of France than Anquetil's, and which may vie with it in popularity. He appears to have the merit of impartiality.

As is the history of any country, so must be its historians. Petty facts can never furnish matter for bold delineation; and, where an entire nation is great, they who record its actions cannot escape the general contagion; they have greatness thrust upon them. Now, with the exceptions of a few particular instances and qualities, the history of the French nation does not partake in the character of moral greatness, which is profusely found in the records of Greek and Roman transactions. The French have chiefly excelled in war; and mere war, without internal policy, without political wisdom, may afford a brilliant, but not a pleasing, not an instructive page to those who study mankind in all its varied shapes. To their ability in the art of war, the French have joined considerable glory in literature, in the fine arts, and much ingenuity; but hardly any of those things which denote or constitute dignity of intellect, or energy of character, or vast and comprehensive capacities; in short, they are deficient in most of the features which the large pencil of history would paint as exalted. In vain would any