Deputies, however freely elected, who walk into the chamber attended only by their own insignificance, can receive but a slender aid from the will and voices of their electors. Unless the popular members are powerful in the nation, they can never constitute a party. To preserve their influence, they may form knots, clubs, juntos; but they acquire no stability by these means. They must be great men at home, as well as in the chamber; if they have no authority elsewhere, they will not awe the ministers by ranting in the tribune. France, and we fear Spain and Portugal, will afford too clear a comment upon these propositions.

Will it be said that we are wedded to the imperfections and infirmities of our form of government? No. The most fervent attachment to our laws and institutions is perfectly compatible with the most painful sense of their defects. Our constitutional history consists of an unbroken series of complaints and concessions. Our ancestors were always yearning after amelioration and improvement. Grievances may have been frequently exaggerated, -grace, too long withheld; but no period can be discovered in times past, in which King, Lords and Commons, united in assuming, that the laws and constitution had acquired such a degree of abstract excellence as to forbid all reform. A free government should not crouch before the people; but if an unyielding spirit of opposition should renounce all communion with public opinion, then the hour of distress and danger will have arrived. Wo betide us if we refuse to listen to the wisdom of our ancestors. They were homely and practical men; and, obeying the simple dictates of common sense, they never shrunk from the duty of amendment. The best institutions turn into curses, if allowed to degenerate from their pristine nature. The laws and customs which afforded security to the father, become noxious to the son. The level of the ocean changes; shoals and rocks are found where the vessel of the State rode at anchor; and, unless a new harbour is deepened for her reception, the Pilots will quail and tremble at the howling of the winds, and find no refuge from the storm.

Quamvis Pontica pinus,

Sylvæ filia nobilis,

Jactes et genus, et nomen inutile ;

Nil pictis, timidus navita puppibus,

Fidit. Tu, nisi ventis

Debes ludibrium, cave!

ART. II. Supplément aux Melanges d'Histoire, de Litterature, &c. Tirés d'un Portefeuille. Paris, 1820.

IN N our Sixtieth Number, we gave an account of the curious collection of Tracts which the late Mr Quintin Crawfurd had printed, but withheld from the public. He, some time before his death, added the Supplement which is now before us, and which, though also unpublished, we have understood he did not object to have candidly discussed. There was in truth no reason why he should dread the severity of criticism in any part of the work. The contents were all extremely interesting; and the portion which proceeded from his own pen, displayed both sound judgment and a correct taste.

The first piece in this Supplement is almost entirely by M. de Meilhan, and contains a number of judicious reflections upon the character and history of Louis XV., with several anecdotes more or less known already. The moral of the whole, or the practical application is, that, of all kinds of affection, by far the most worthless and unreasonable was the enthusiasm of the French for their Princes. Early in his reign, Louis XV. was taken dangerously ill at Metz; and the whole people of France were thrown into an alarm which hardly any public event had ever before excited. When a preacher, in the course of the sermon delivered upon his recovery, termed him in his presence, according to the adulatory style of the pulpit in those days, Le bien-aimé, the expression was, by universal consent, deemed so peculiarly fitted to indicate the place he held in the hearts of all men, that it flew instantaneously over the whole nation, and became at once and every where united to his name. Had he died then, says our author, he would have been regarded as the Titus of France in after times; and this, he very justly adds, without any one reason in the world, except that he was handsome, young, and, dying in the flower of his age, would have got credit for all the good which he might have done.' Unfortunately for his reputation, he lived to an old age, and is now only remembered as a pattern of indolence, voluptuousness and insignificance, rare even among absolute monarchs. There is much truth in the explanation here given of the great name often acquired by persons in distinguished stations, who are cut off suddenly in their youth. Tu Marcellus eris! The sentiment of pity inclines theworld to a favourable judgment; and while time has not been given for committing many faults or displaying many deficiencies, the object of compassion is decked in the attributes which an indulgent fancy takes pleasure to invent. But the Well-beloved reigned

somewhat too long to give the full benefit of this excuse to his votaries. He seems indeed to have felt this; and he was probably rather struck with shame than with the sensibility ascribed to him by M. de Meilhan, when he exclaimed, in the midst of the enthusiasm every where displayed by his subjects, Qu'ai-je donc fait pour être lant aimé? We greatly doubt if these paroxysms of unmeaning and mischievous feeling will ever again be exhibited among the French; and we trust, for the sake both of prince and people, they never may-their inevitable effect being to spoil the one, and degrade the other. Perhaps the reader may be of opinion, that the sentiments of divine right, in which kings are so prone to indulge, proceed not unnaturally from such excesses of devotion in their subjects. The following letter is full of them; it is one of the very few acts of vigour ever performed by Louis XV.; and, being addressed to his minister at the time of the disputes with the Parliaments in 1771, induces our author to suppose, that if the Revolution, which many think was then so near, had broken out, he would have had firmness enough to resist its further progress. It is written entirely in the King's own hand, and addressed to the Duc de Richelieu.

• Poussé à bout comme je le suis, je ne puis plus differer de faire sentir à mon parlement que je suis le maître absolu-que ma puissance vient de Dieu, et que je n'en dois compte qu'à lui le jour ou il me retirera de ce monde. Pour lors ils auront sous un autre maître, non moins le maître, mais peut-être plus vif que moi. Je suis roi et maître, ou c'est le parlement! Personne ne veut céder, et cependant il est necessaire que quelqu'un plie. Je ne veux point detruire le parlement, mais je le veux reduire dans les justes bornes pour lesquels il a été institué; ainsi il faut qu'il cede, ou moi. Moi j'y mettrai toute la force que Dieu a mise dans mes mains, et je repandrai mon sang avec grand plaisir. S'il me demande pardon, s'il obeït à ce que je lui commande, avec joie je lui rendrai le pouvoir que je lui avois confié. Mais après toutes les incartades que j'ai vues, je ne souffrirai jamais qu'il puisse me mettre dans le même embarras.

Je n'aime pas plus l'autorité des prêtres, en tant qu'ils veulent sortir des bornes mystiques; mais je veux qu'on rende à Dieu ce qui est à Dieu, et à Cesar ce qui est à Cesar. Or Cesar ne tient que de Dieu ce qui est à Cesar, et il ne le lâchera à personne sur la terre Française.

Vous pouvez communiquer ceci à qui vous voudrez, n'étant pas fait pour vous seule; ainsi vous en ferez l'usage que vous jugerez à propos. Je ne le signe pas non plus; vous connoissez assez mon ecriture pour être sur qu'elle est de moi; je le ferois même avec grand plaisir, s'il le falloit, d'une autre couleur !

We surrender this singular letter to the unbounded admiration of the Ultra-Royalists on both sides of the Channel. They will

term it, no doubt, very firm and vigorous, and extol the writer for twice expressing the delight with which he was disposed to shed his blood for his fancied rights; forgetting that his existence as a king was only for his people's benefit, and that his blood could not fall in drops unless their's flowed in torrents. It is singular that this piece should be the composition of one who, of all the kings that ever reigned, lived the longest time merely for himself; without any great and glaring vices certainly, and with hardly any attempts to extend his power; but in a state of quiet, animal indulgence, which rendered his existence almost indifferent to his subjects. No case could therefore have occurred in which the rights of the crown were more peculiarly the private and personal interest of the sovereign; and we will venture to say, that no sovereign who held them avowedly, or substantially for the benefit of the State, ever claimed them so absolutely, or was more zealously devoted to uphold them.

The next pieces which excite interest in this collection relate to Louis XVI. and his unfortunate Queen; containing a number of curious anecdotes, many of them within Mr Crawfurd's personal knowledge, of those two ill-fated individuals, especially during the latter years of their lives. There has, naturally enough, been so much exaggerated feeling on both sides respecting them, and facts have been in consequence so distorted, that it is quite refreshing to read any thing which proceeds from a quarter of undeniable authority. Mr C., though greatly disposed to take part with the sufferers, (and who indeed can avoid such a partiality?) yet writes with such exemplary calmness, that we cannot, generally speaking, avoid giving credit to his narrative.

6

Louis XVI. certainly owed the love which he obtained from those who approached him to his worth, and not to the graces that ordinarily captivate the frequenters of a court. His character, we are told, was reserved, and his manners far from prepossessing. Des formes denuées de grace et même un peu brusques excluoient chez lui cette prévenance et cette amenité ⚫ dont les souverains peuvent quelquefois tirer un si grand parti; • d'ailleurs son maintien, ses manières, et un regard vacillant, ' produit par une vue courte, composaient un ensemble peu imposant; mais toutes ses actions et toutes ses paroles annonçoient des idées justes, et surtout l'homme de bien.' His great defect was a want of firmness, arising from want of confidence in himself; and this again may be supposed to have originated in the evil education which at first prevented him from trying his own powers in manly pursuits, and in the frivolous occupations in which all the periods of his life seem to have been passed. When we apply such a term to them, it is

only with reference to the exigencies of his station; for, in a private person, such pursuits would have been innocent and even laudable. His chief pleasure seems to have been the chase, and his favourite occupation some mechanical work, as watchmaking, in which he was so knowing, that M. Janvier owed to him the idea of his time-piece. He loved to converse with artists, and to make them explain the principles of their art; and it was an amiable trait in his character, and in harmony with all the rest, that, considering their time to be their fortune, he made a point of never keeping any one waiting whom he had sent for; but, if any thing prevented him from seeing them at the appointed hour, he took care to give them early notice of the change. He was well informed upon some higher branches of knowledge; geography, in particular, was his favourite study. He drew up, himself, the instructions for the unfortunate La Peyrouse, who passed two hours with him on being named to command the expedition, and expressed to Mr Crawfurd at dinner next day, his astonishment to find the King so intimately acquainted with every thing regarding maritime discovery, and naval science in general.

Though naturally of an economical disposition, which he carried even to parsimony, he employed part of his savings in charity, and was peculiarly anxious to keep his acts of benevolence concealed. The Queen having one day discovered some such good work, he was somewhat angry; and then said good humouredly, and, we may add, wittily, Il est bien singulier que je ne puisse aller en bonne fortune sans qu'on le sache.’Our author positively denies that any of the financial distress in which the Revolution began, was owing to the extravagance of his household, or the Queen's. He was never prodigal, and very seldom generous; and could not, without great difficulty, be prevailed upon to allow of any extraordinary disbursements. He paid, indeed, the debts of his brothers, particularly the Count d'Artois, which required considerable sums of money; but his own civil list cost only between a million and a million and a quarter Sterling; and appeared to the National Assembly so for from extravagant, that they fixed it at a sum founded upon the same estimates. The extravagance of his predecessor, and, still more, the expenses of the war 1778, were the real causes of the deficit.

The following particulars respecting the celebrated escape from the Temple are interesting, and place the amiable character of the King in its proper light.

Le plan ayant été adopté, le Roi en confia l'exécution, depuis la frontière de l'ancienne province des trois evêchés, au Marquis de Bouillé, commandant de l'armée de l'Est, qui accepta cette danger.