condition to listen, addressed him thus- My dear friend, I am in despair at seeing you in this extremity, but I have still one favour to ask of you; it is that you will hear me read my Homme personnel,' Consider,' replied the dying man, that I have only a few hours to live.' Hélas, oui! and this is the very reason that makes me so desirous of knowing what you think of my play.' His unhappy friend heard him to the end without saying a word, and then in a faint voice observed, that there was yet one very striking feature wanted to complete the character which he had been designing. Pray let me know it.' 'Yes,' replied Colardeau, with a smile; you must make him force a friend who is dying to listen to a comedy in five acts.'

But his pestering a dying friend admits of some excuse, when we find that the subject of the drama formed the serious occupation of his own last moments. On the eve of his death, he said to the Marquis de Vieilleville, who paid him a visit, My physicians tell me I am better, but I know too well from the excess of my sufferings that I cannot recover. However, I have other things to think of at this moment. Pray visit me again when you come from the opera.' He did so; and the dying man talked to him of nothing but Iphigénie and the success of Mlle. Dozon, whose début in this part had greatly interested him.

To this instance of the ruling passion, we may add another which surpasses even Pope's celebrated Example of Mrs. Oldfield. Madame de Charolais, being in the same circumstances with the dying actress, was with extreme difficulty prevailed upon to receive the sacrament without rouge. Being at last unable to resist the entreaties of her confessor, who, we suppose, insisted on the sin of face painting, she at last consented to wipe away the beloved ornament; but in this case,' she said to her women, give me some other ribbons; you know how horribly ill yellow becomes my complexion.'

Several other stories are told of poor Barthe. But we suspect that he was one of those unfortunate beings respecting whom all the world is agreed that invention is no calumny. M. de Choisy had addressed to him some verses on his translation of the Art of Love, in which he styled him Vainqueur de Bernard et d'Ovide. "Ah! Vainqueur! exclaimed Barthe with great modesty, that is too strong-much too strong-indeed--nay, I must insist upon your altering that expression.' Well, if it must be so, if you absolutely insist upon it, it shall be rival:-they then talked of other matters, but just as they were about to part, M. Barthe paused a few moments, and then going up to his companion, in the most affectionate manner, said to him in a toue of great tenderness, Vainqueur is more harmonious.'

6

We find the following note on the character of Alfieri, who in the year 1787 was hardly yet known in France :

This is a Piedmontese gentleman, who has given up to his sister the better half of a very ample fortune, in order to spend the remainder as he pleases. His ruling passions are verse and horses. If he is to be believed, we have hitherto been all in the wrong, both in France and Italy, with regard to the true conception of tragedy: we used to believe that it ought to be written with tears, but we are now taught that it should be with blood.'

We have a delightful letter to Grimm from the Prince de Ligne, accompanied by a slight sketch or statement of the condition of the Russian empire. We have no room for the latter, though it is not an uninteresting document, but we shall make no apology for copying the former. It is dated from Moscow, 15th July, 1787.

On vous aime beaucoup, M. le Baron, on parle souvent de vous, mais vous écrit-on? Catherine le Grand (car elle fera faire une faute de français à la posterité) n'en a peut-être pas le tems. Peut être ces petits details que je viens de dicter vous donneront-ils une idée, quoique bien faible, de ce que nous avons vu; d'ailleurs, c'est indignatio facit relation; car je suis outré de la basse jalousie qu'en Europe l'on a conçue contre la Russie. Je voudrais apprendre à vivre à cette partie de Ï'Europe qui cherche à déshonorer la plus grande; si elle se donnait la peine de voyager, elle verrait où il y a le plus de barbarie. Il est extraordinaire, par exemple, que les Grâces aient sauté notre saint Empire à pieds joints pour venir de Paris s'établir à Moscou, et deux cents werstes encore plus loin, où nous avons trouvé des femmes charmantes, mises à merveille, dansantes, chantantes, et aimantes peut-être comme des anges.

'L'Empereur a été extrêmement aimable les trois semaines qu'il a passées avec nous. Les conversations de deux personnes qui ont soixante millions d'habitans et huit cent mille soldats ne pouvait être qu' interessante en voiture, où j'en profitais bien, les interrompant souvent par quelque bêtise qui me fesait rire en attendant qu'elle fit rire les autres, car nous avons toujours joui de la liberté, qui seule fait le charme de la société; et vous connaissez le genre simple de celle de l'impératrice, qu'un rien divertit, et qui ne monte à l'élévation du sublime que lorsqu'il est question de grands objets.

Il faut absolument, M. le Baron, que nous revenions ici ensemble; ce sera le moyen que je sois encore mieux reçu. Ce n'est pas que vous ayez besoin de rappeler à l'impératrice tout ce que vous avez d'aimable; car, absent, elle vous voit, mais elle sera fort aise de dire: Présent, je le trouve. Vous ferez de charmantes connaissances; M. de Mamorow, par exemple, est un sujet de grande espérance; il est plein d'esprit, d'agrément et de connaissances. Vous vous doutez bien de l'agrément que le Comte de Ségur a répandu dans tout le voyage. Je suis désolé qu'il soit presque fini.

J'ai fait bâtir un temple dédié à l'impératrice par une inscription, près d'un rocher où était celui d'Iphigénie, et un autel à l'amitié pour

le

le Prince Potemkin, au milieu des plus beaux et gros arbres à fruits que j'aie vus, et au bord de la mer, où se réunissent tous les torrens des montagnes. Cette petite terre, que m'a donnée l'impératrice, s'appelle Parthenizza, ou le cap Vierge, et est habitée par cinquante-six familles tartares, qui ne le sont pas autant que les déesses et les rois qui exigeaient de durs sacrifices, comme tout le monde sait. Je ne connais pas de site plus délicieux; je pourrais dire:

Sur les bords fortunés de l'antique Idalie,

Lieux où finit l'Europe et commence l'Asie,

car on découvre les montagnes de la Natolie. Ce qu'il y a d'assez singulier, c'est que c'est sur les bords de la Mer Noire, que, tranquille, et vivant au milieu des infidèles, j'ai appris que les fidèles sujets de la maison d'Autriche se révoltaient sur les bords de l'Océan. Je ne m'attendais pas qu'il y eût plus de sûreté pour moi dans mes terres du PontEuxin que dans celles de la Flandre.'

We should not easily conjecture either that the lively and intelligent Austrian was speaking of the same country and the same people that appeared in such different colours to the eyes of a late English traveller; or that the prejudices of which the Prince de Ligne complains in 1787, have continued to exist and still operate in full force, more than twenty years afterwards, in an age of inquiry and illumination.

It is so pleasant to dwell upon the better days of French society that, in abandoning ourselves to the subjects which they present to us, we have lost sight of the dismal scene of approaching anarchy and confusion, by which the glittering picture was so soon to be reversed, and of which the gradual symptoms occupy no small portion of this series of the Correspondence, particularly the two latter volumes. The Baron de Grimm (at least if the principal articles relating to the French Revolution were written by him) appears to have early seen and deeply dreaded the dangers to which the very foundations of society were exposed, although at times he partakes in the prevailing enthusiasm, especially at the period when his friend Necker was the national idol, and when perhaps it may be admitted that the hopes and confidence of the wiser and better part of the nation (however misplaced they may have since appeared to be) were fixed upon him. Many of the later articles in these volumes, however, will be read with a great deal of curiosity and satisfaction, by those to whom it is a laudable object of attention to ascertain in what manner the minds of moderate and thinking persons were affected by the first shocks of that fearful convulsion which has since desolated so large and fair a portion of the inheritance of mankind. The reflections on the Assemblée des Notables and of the Etats Généraux, and those on the causes and probable effects of the Revolution, then commencing, which are interspersed

interspersed in various parts of the Correspondence, from the year 1788 to the conclusion, are marked by deep thought and very sound and just views of general politics. It is impossible for us, however, to do more than barely refer to them at present, and to lament that the Correspondence necessarily closes just at the period when, could it have continued, it would (at least in a political sense,) have become most interesting and valuable.

ART. V. 1. History of Dissenters, from the Revolution in 1688, to the year 1808. By David Bogue and James Bennett. 4 vols. 8vo. London; Ogle, Duncan and Co. 1812.

2. Wilson's History and Antiquities of Dissenting Churches. 4 vols. 8vo. London.

3. Neal's History of the Puritans. Abridged in Two Volumes by Edward Parsons. 8vo. London and Leeds. 1812. ECCLESIASTICAL history has rarely been written in an enlightened spirit; rarely, indeed, in a good one. We too often find in it whatever is most monstrous in romance, whatever is most impudent in falsehood; perverse ingenuity, microscopic dulness, bigotry, envy, and uncharitableness. The falsehood belongs more peculiarly to the Romanists, the latter ingredients have been plentifully used by writers of almost every communion. Few studies are so mournful: but to him who reads with understanding and with the mind of a Christian philosopher, perhaps none can be more instructive.

The two new works before us are perhaps as free from the vices which usually pervade books of this description, as is compatible with the spirit of sectarianism. An antiquary indeed, as well as a Roman Catholic, would wonder at the title of Mr. Wilson's volumes, and smile at the Antiquities of the Dissenting Churches! The book, however, is praiseworthy in its kind; it is of the nature of our topographical histories; and, though uninviting and unimportant to the general reader, must be interesting to those for whom it is peculiarly designed. The other work is of higher pretensions. Messrs. Bogue and Bennett are indeed any thing rather than impartial writers; nor is it enough to say that their history is somewhat the more attractive on this account, since what is gained in life and character is more than balanced by the loss of candour. We willingly take the opportunity which these writers afford us, of offering some remarks upon the subject of their labours, bringing to the task opinions which are avowedly as decided as their own, and feelings which we trust are not less

charitable.

The

The history of the Church, during the reign of Elizabeth, presents a melancholy picture of discord, bigotry and intolerance.' So says Mr. Wilson, though it will hardly be expected that his readers of every description will agree with him. The Reformation,' he adds, as then established in England, was materially defective and came far short of what was designed by those who had the chief hand in promoting it; for the bishops and the Queen were infinitely more concerned to preserve a few unprofitable rites and ceremonies, than to promote the instruction of the people.' That Elizabeth and her bishops acted sometimes erroneously, and sometimes culpably, will be admitted by those who are most grateful to them for the general tenor of their conduct: but this same writer explains, and in no slight degree justifies, the conduct which he condemus, when he relates how the earliest dissenters held that the constitution of the hierarchy was too bad to be mended; that the very pillars of it were rotten; that the structure ought to be raised anew, and that they were resolved to lay a new foundation, though it were at the hazard of all that was dear to them in the world.' 'Their chief error,' he says, 'seems to have been their uncharitableness in unchurching the whole Christian world except themselves.' But the Queen and the bishops might not unreasonably think that an error of some magnitude in its consequences was included in the resolution of laying a new foundation for the church, inasmuch as the first business must have been to clear the ground by pulling down that which was already erected.

But it is not our purpose to enter upon an exposure of the fallacies into which these writers have fallen. To write history as it ought to be written, requires a power of intellectual transmigration with which few persons are gifted. The author, if he would deal justly toward those whose actions he professes to record, should go back to their times, and, standing where they stood, endeavour, as far as is possible, to see things as they appeared within their scope of vision, in the same light, and from the same point of view, and through the same medium. It is commonly remarked of private disputes, that both parties are in the wrong, but it is not less true that both may be, to a certain degree, right: and by him who is capable of thus entering into the life of others, it will be found that individuals, sects, and factions who, in ages of political or religious discord, have taken the most opposite parts and acted with the most inveterate hostility to each other, may yet have been equally sincere, equally conscientious, and therefore equally selfjustified. This conclusion does not lead to that miserable state of Pyrrhonism which in these days assumes the name of liberality, and is in its consequences scarcely less pernicious than the fiercest bi

gotry,