any

way by their own talents, and against the most adverse circumstances to distinction, instead of being one of reproach, is one rather of the highest honor. Both were cast pennyless and friendless on a great metropolis, suffered the utmost privations, submitted to the lowest literary drudgery, were the bounden slaves of the booksellers; both emerged to fame, to comparatively easy circumstances, to cultivated society; if the one was courted by a foreign sovereign, Johnson received marks and expressions of respect from his own. The parallel may even be drawn somewhat closer, each wrote with but moderate success for the stage,—each, in his own way, was a novelist; and the great work of the English Dictionary may be placed, as to extent and labor, in competition with the Encyclopédie. But the moral contrast!-On one side, the deep, the conscientions, the morbid religion; the stern and uncompromising moral sense, which would not tamper for an instant with any right or decent feeling; the almost Stoic pride of virtue; the principles, petrified at times into prejudices; the. reverence for all that was fixed, established, or venerable, bordering close on bigotry ;· on the other, the total want of settled or definite creed or opinion, the perverse delight in calling into question, and submitting to a cold analysis, the most sacred principles, the most instinctive feelings, the common decencies of our nature. There was no virtue of which Diderot would not argue the possible error, no vice of which he would not scrutinize the conceivable advantage, - whatever was generally acknowledged or reverenced, was already half condemned. Hence, while the biography of our countryman is suited to all ages, to each sex, and gives a picture of society at once most amusing and most instructive, the most shameless man will at times be inclined to close the other in disgust, and will pursue it to the end merely to trace, if possible, the formation of a character, which, with many kind, and generous, and humane feelings, presents, in one respect, we hope almost a singular phenomenon of depravity. As the genuine or apocryphal Memoirs of M. Fouché are curious from their exhibition of a mind in which the principle of political honesty seems to be not merely in abeyance, but so utterly extinct as never to occur to the thoughts; so in Diderot the common sacred instinct of decency, that which distinguishes man from the lower animals, is absolutely and entirely eradicated.

But this contrast is not only remarkable as regards the two individuals, but as representing to a certain degree the state of society in each country. We mean not that in the Savages or Churchills of London, we might not have found a nearer resemblance to Diderot; and, unless much belied, the fraternity of the "Monks of Medenham" (a beautiful retreat by the Thames,

where Wilkes shone in all his brilliancy, and led the orgies), might have entered into some rivalry with the philosophic coterie at Grandval; yet in one country it was the prevailing tone and character of the times, in the other it was an exception, it retired from the eye of day, it was spoken of with a general murmur of trembling disapprobation. We must not now embark on the ever agitated and never perhaps clearly definable causes of the appalling crisis which closed the last century; neither on the destructive elements which united to explode the whole surface of French society with such volcanic fury; nor the conservative principles which were then able to save England from a like fate. We would only observe, that one main difference was the comparative depravation of the public morals. Where men like Diderot were popular writers, it is no wonder that men like Marat or Robespierre arose to deluge the capital with blood. But, on the other hand, the views of the republican writers, of the vigorous and able Mignet, for instance, are not, it must be confessed, without some truth and justice. The profligacy of the court, we would add the desecration of religion by too many of its ministers, led to that state of public feeling of which the Encylopedists were but the organs and representatives. While the king was in the "parc "aux cerfs," and the highest honors of religion were bestowed on a flagitious debauchee, who can wonder that Voltaire and Diderot reigned paramount over the tastes and opinions of on-lookers? What throne, of which the despotic authority was wielded in succession by the mistress-wife, the widow of Scarron, the queen in all but name, by the regent Orleans,—and by De Pompadour and Du Barri, could long stand? what church, of which Dubois was a cardinal? If the philosophers were the immediate parents of the revolution, they were the lineal descendants of the corruptions and vices of the court, and of the higher orders. Whoever has read that most instructive as well as amusing work, the complete edition of "St. Simon's Memoirs," will scarcely wonder that the elements of such a society should be thrown, in but a few years, into the most appalling dissolution. The feeble and irresolute opposition which the court, and even the church offered to the philosophers, was a fearful indication of their own weakness, of their enemies' strength. It had all the bigotry of intolerance, without the religious sincerity; the malignity of persecution, without its terrors. Voltaire was alternately exiled and caressed; Diderot was thrown into prison, not because he lived by insulting the religion and corrupting the morals of the nation, but because he had risked a jest on a minister's mistress. In the church, no man of station or dignity vindicated the truth of religion; a few irregular and mostly very inferior skirmishers appeared, who were

transfixed by Voltaire on the point of an epigram, or pursued, while no one appeared in their behalf, with incessant volleys of contemptuous satire. No Bossuet appeared to thunder, no Fenelon to win the hearts of men back to Christian love and humanity. The author of perhaps the best work against Voltaire, the "Lettres de quelques Juifs," the Abbé Guenée, at last obtained a poor canonry. Even of the parochial clergy, though we believe that many of them fully justified Burke's splendid panegyric, yet too many, we fear, submitted, like the Curé who officiated at Grandval, to be the jest of the society. Mass was duly performed amidst all the indecencies and impieties of that house; the ladies used to assemble in the billiard-room, or in Diderot's chamber, which commanded a view of the chapel, and in their respect for the solemnity of the service, calculated to how great a distance the salutary effects of a mass would reach. But we are travelling too far from our record, and must conclude by expressing our satisfaction, that this life and correspondence of Diderot constitute a work almost as much out of character with the present predominant tone of French literature as with our own. It is the posthumous offspring, to borrow Dryden's nervous language, of "a lubrique and adulterate age," which we hope, if not gone by for ever, will never again corrupt at least the higher literature of a most cultivated and intellectual nation. That literature may yet

"Bear some tokens of the sable streams;

its most finished, most musical, most graceful lyrist may abuse the license of an erotic poet; but in all the more dignified walks of letters the morals of the Encyclopedists appear, we rejoice to say, to be about as much exploded as their philosophy; and a Diderot, despite the filial blindness of a daughter, or the partiality of an editor, is likely to be judged in Paris as in London, according to that verdict, which we have extracted from one of the most accomplished of living writers, M. de Barante, whose spirited and picturesque history of the Dukes of Burgundy has more than fulfilled the promise of his elegant and philosophic essay on the literature of the eighteenth century.

[From "The Foreign Quarterly Review, No. 20."]

[What follows, comprises the greater part of a long and able article. We have omitted some remarks of the author illustrative of the weak reasoning of Chateaubriand, especially in his Genius of Christianity, and some extracts from his political writings, which seemed to us sufficiently characterized by the gene

ral remarks concerning them. The passages which in the original article are quoted in French are here translated. EDD.]

ART. III.Œuvres Complètes de M. LE VICOMTE DE CHATEAUBRIAND, &c. &c. 28 Tom. 8vo. Paris. 1826-1831.⚫ [Complete Works of the VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND.]

AMONG the celebrated men of France M. de Chateaubriand holds a conspicuous station, distinguished alike by the brilliancy of his talents, and by their scope and versatility. Minister, diplomatist, orator, poet, traveller, theologian, novelist, pamphleteer, he has appeared in all these various capacities, and so appeared as invariably to ensure attention, and frequently to command admiration and respect. Yet with all this variety, there has been little inconsistency, with all this change of style and subject there has been little change of tone and feeling. Through all the manifold productions of his fertile pen, we still see the same rash, ardent, eloquent, imaginative Chateaubriand. He was born in 1772, the youngest of ten children. The subjects to which his attention was principally directed in early years were theology and naval affairs, studies which gave some color to his after-life, and of which the influence was perceptible in his writings. At an early age he entered the army, which he quitted at the commencement of the French Revolution. In 1791 the love of travel led him to America, where he hoped to find in civilized man the theoretical liberty for which his countrymen were panting, and in the rude inhabitant of its boundless forests, a verification of those rhapsodies of Rousseau, which had taken strong hold on his young imagination. He returned from this tour on hearing of the arrest of Louis XVI. at Varennes, and chivalrously determined to devote himself to the royal cause; but the struggle was hopeless, and after being wounded at Thionville, he fled to England, where he remained several years engaged in the composition of his Essai sur les Révolutions, his Génie du Christianisme, his Natchez, Atala, and Réné. He returned to France in 1800. His writings had excited attention, Napoleon felt the value of his talents, and wished to engage them in his service; and in 1802, after the signature of the Concordat, Chateaubriand accompanied Cardinal Fesch, as Secretary of the Embassy, to Rome. Napoleon had not then assumed the crown: this act and the murder of the Duc d'Enghien rendered it impossible for one who felt as did M. de Chateaubriand to remain in his service; and the day that tragedy was made known to him, he sent in his resignation. There was no slight danger in thus resigning; but Chateaubriand did not have recourse to flight, and Napoleon had the wise magnanimity to ab

VOL. I.- NO. II.

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stain from molesting him. He even made him fresh offers, but they were rejected; and Chateaubriand soon afterwards commenced that tour in Greece, Egypt, and the Holy Land, which he has so eloquently described. On his return to France, undismayed by the state of thraldom under which the press was then laboring, he ventured to become a journalist. Some expressions in his review of Laborde's Voyage en Espagne, excited the displeasure of Napoleon, and the journal, of which he was with another the joint conductor, was suppressed. Meanwhile he grew in consideration among the literary men of France. A place in the "Institut" became vacant by the death of Chénier, and Chateaubriand was elected to fill it. But the condition attached to every election was a panegyric on the predecessor, — the revolutionist Chénier was a subject ill-suited for the pen of Chateaubriand; reversing the disobedience of Balaam, he turned the panegyric into an anathema; his intended discourse was declared inadmissible, his election annulled, and himself ordered to quit Paris. On the restoration of the Bourbons in 1814, M. de Chateaubriand, after publishing his Buonaparte et les Bourbons, and his Reflexions Politiques, was appointed ambassador to Sweden. During the temporary retirement of Louis XVIII. at Ghent, he accepted from him a ministerial office, which he retained on the king's second restoration to his throne, till ejected in 1816 by the instrumentality of De Cazes. His Monarchie selon la Charte incurred the censure of that minister, then at the head of the Police, and the work was seized and denounced. It was, however, not condemned by the tribunals; but its author was driven from office. He was afterwards ambassador at London, at Berlin, and at the Congress of Verona. In 1822 he became Minister for Foreign Affairs, but retained that office only about two years. He subsequently accepted the post of Ambassador to Rome, which in 1829 he resigned, and this has been his last official situation. Such is a brief outline of the career of the distinguished subject of our present notice down to the period of the Revolution of 1830. Subsequent events must be so fresh in the recollection of our readers, that it is needless to allude to them.

There are two of our countrymen, one of them still living, to whom M. de Chateaubriand, in the quality of his mind, seems to have a strong resemblance: we allude to Mr. Southey, ― and to one still greater, to Mr. Burke. We do not mean to say that M. de Chateaubriand is as brilliant an orator, as powerful a political writer, as the latter, or that he is as good a poet as Mr. Southey, but that his mind exhibits many of those characteristics which have been displayed by each. We find in him