all able, and are favorable examples of his controversial skill. They contain occasional instances of his characteristic love of generalization, some little hardihood of assertion, and much which we in England should think unnecessary; but the general principles which they involve are sound, and ably expressed, and they abound in clever expositions of the inefficiencies and absurdities of the restrictive laws which it is their object to combat.

M. de Chateaubriand's Etudes Historiques have been fully discussed in a preceding number of this journal, and we shall, therefore, add nothing on the subject of that particular work.*

M. de Chateaubriand's zeal in the cause of the Bourbons often passes the bounds of discretion, and he says many things in their praise, which a wise advocate would have omitted. He seems to

estimate eulogy by quantity rather than by quality, to think that the more he accumulates the greater will be the effect produced, to forget that, where all is gilt, even gilding loses its attraction, and to be ignorant how commendation undeserved and unacknowledged militates against the efficacy even of those praises which are felt to be just. His "Memoirs concerning the Duke of Berri" is a tissue of weak adulation, rendered less fulsome and discreditable to its author only by being offered to the dead. M. de Chateaubriand lays such stress on trifles, as to create an impression that he had little that was favorable to relate. Why else are we treated with anecdotes of the Duc de Berri's condescension in taking refuge from a shower of rain in a porter's lodge when walking with the Duchess? and another time, when no such shelter was at hand, allowing a stranger to escort them with an umbrella, pardoning his ignorance of their rank, and actually thanking him when the discovery took place? It would be great injustice to the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia, who mingle constantly with their subjects in the streets, not to believe that under such trying circumstances they have frequently conducted themselves quite as well. Why are we told, as if the earth did not contain such another instance of exalted virtue, that he did not turn away a superannuated coachman without giving him a retiring pension? Why are we told that after hunting he magnanimously admitted the superior punctuality of his whipper-in ? Was it praise or bitter irony to speak as follows of a prince who passed some of the most improvable years of his life in England?

"His leisure in England allowed him to devote himself to vari

* "Études ou Discours Historiques sur la Chûte de l'Empire Romain, la Naissance et les Progrès du Christianisme, et l'Invasion des Barbares: suivis d'une Analyse raisonnée de l'Histoire de France." The work is reviewed without praise in the 16th number of the Review.

ous studies; he gave himself up to the science of medals, in which he made astonishing progress. He afterwards turned to music and painting, and perfected himself in the knowledge of pictures. He acquired, also, in London those sound ideas, which we have observed in him, upon representative monarchy."

After mentioning the Duc de Berri's astonishing progress in the knowledge of coins, and his acquaintance with paintings, our author states, as if it were an afterthought, that he also acquired sound notions upon the subject, which to him was one of the most important, and which this country could best teach him.

Surely it was not politic to provoke a comparison, as in the following passage, between Louis XVIII. and Napoleon Bonaparte.

"If it is extraordinary that Bonaparte was able to bend to his yoke the men of the republic, it is not less astonishing that Louis XVIII. subjected to his laws the men of the empire; that glory, interest, passion, even vanity itself died away before him. A mixture of confidence and respect was felt in his presence, the benevolence of his heart was shown in his words, the grandeur of his race in his appearance."

It was unwise, in the first place, to compare a submission effected by Louis with foreign aid, and that which Napoleon imposed on France by the influence of his own commanding genius. It was unwise to compare the personal qualities of one whose abilities were considered by few to rise much above the average standard, with those of the most wonderful being of his age; and most especially was it unwise, because even if Louis could, in all the attributes of greatness, be proved equal to Napoleon, the comparison would have been of no avail to one who, like M. de Chateaubriand, is the advocate of legitimacy. The personal qualities of a sovereign can with no shadow of utility be brought under consideration, except when the sovereignty is elective. The Bourbons were brought back to reign over France, not because they were individually wiser and better than many other persons who could have been selected; but because, according to fixed and recognised rules, they were the rightful inheritors of the crown. To eulogize their personal merits, as if these constituted any the smallest portion of their claim, is to weaken the foundation on which that claim really rests. Monarchy is never firmly established except among a people who can be taught to revere and uphold the kingly office independently of all consideration respecting the character of him who fills it. The advocate of legitimacy does ill who talks of individual virtues, who rests the defence of his principle on any thing less than the good of the people, who speaks as if it were intended for the advantage of a single family, and as a re

ward for its merits, rather than for the benefit of the community at large. Legitimacy does possess that best support, the general good. When it is acknowledged essential for the welfare of a people that the highest office in the state should cease to be a prize that ambition may contend for, that the possession of it should be ascertained by rules which shall exclude as far as is possible all room for doubt and dispute,-when it is acknowledged that it is better to incur the chance of an unwise or avaricious ruler, than the oft-recurring evils of turbulent election and the sense of perpetual instability; —when this is acknowedged, it is useless, nay more, it is even mischievous, - to call in adventitious circumstances, such as personal character and temporary popularity, in support of a principle which, if it is worth any thing, must be strong enough without them. The expulsion of the elder branch of the Bourbons has placed M. de Chateaubriand's chivalrous spirit of loyalty in that honorable light which the generous advocacy of the unfortunate reflects even on misjudging champions. He has done for them all he can, considering how little chivalrous is the nature of those weapons with which he is constrained to defend their cause. He has written lately an able pamphlet, in which he comments powerfully on what he designates as the unjust exclusion of the young unoffending Duc de Bordeaux, and the ill-compacted system of republican monarchy now established in France.

M. de Chateaubriand's active career is, we trust, still far from its close. We trust he is still destined to adorn the literature of his country with works more solidly advantageous, more permanently redounding to his own fame, than any he has yet produced. We are justified in this expectation by observing that, without any concomitant decrease of imaginative power, judgment and good taste have progressively exercised a more decided influence from the earliest period of his authorship. His is a mind of which the reasoning faculties have been overshadowed and hidden by the vast luxuriance of his fancy; and in proportion as the latter has been pruned and repressed, the former have been more effectually developed. We should hail with pleasure, what we trust is possible, another edition of his "Euvres Complètes," enriched with the added fruits of his matured experience, and unencumbered with those gaudy weeds, which, with an unfortunate excess of parental indulgence, he has forborne to pluck out from the one now before us.

ART. IV. RECENT PUBLICATIONS CONCERNING GOETHE.

[By A. N.]

THE death of Goethe has served to make him an object of attention to many, in whom his life and writings had before excited little interest; and who may have read such English translations as we have of his works, or perhaps some of his works in the original, with no stronger feeling than that of astonishment at the enthusiastic, unlimited, intolerant admiration, expressed for him by a large portion of his countrymen. He was, however, a very extraordinary man, extraordinary from the character and circumstances which enabled him to hold such a despotic power over many German minds. But that he should ever attain a corresponding influence out of his own country, and especially among English readers, is not to be apprehended. It would imply a revolution of taste, of moral sentiments, of philosophy, and of religious faith, as improbable as it would be disastrous.

Of the manner in which he is estimated by his admirers, we have evidence in two articles, one in the New Monthly Magazine (for June last), and the other in the 19th number of the Foreign Quarterly Review. The first is entitled "Death of Goethe." It is an apotheosis (apotheosis is a tame word) of the German poet and novelist, we presume by a countryman of his own. He is described as the moral sun of mankind, the one great philosopher of his age, the hierophant of a new era in the history of our race; the powerful workings and future effects of whose mysterious energy, the most initiated can as yet but imperfectly comprehend. We shall give a few extracts from this and the other article to which we have referred. They are worth preservation, if for no other reason, yet as literary curiosities; for there is very little like them in English literature.

"The true sovereign of the world, who moulds the world like soft wax, according to his pleasure, is he who lovingly sees into the world; the 'inspired Thinker,' whom in these days we name Poet. The true sovereign is the Wise Man.

"However, as the Moon, which can heave up the Atlantic, sends not in her obedient billows at once, but gradually; and, for example, the Tide, which swells to-day on our shores and washes every creek, rose in the bosom of the great ocean (astronomers assure us) eight-and-forty hours ago; and indeed all world-movements, by nature deep, are by nature calm, and flow and swell onwards with a certain majestic slowness, so, too, with the impulse of a Great Man, and the effect he has to manifest on other men. To such a one we may grant some generation or two before the celestial Impulse he impressed on the world will universally proclaim itself,

and become (like that working of the Moon), if still not intelligible, yet palpable to all men; some generation or two more, wherein it has to grow, and expand, and envelope all things, before it can reach its acme; and thereafter mingling with other movements and new impulses, at length cease to require a specific observation or designation. Longer or shorter such period may be, according to the nature of the Impulse itself, and of the elements it works in ; according, above all, as the Impulse was intrinsically great and deep-reaching, or only wide-spread, superficial, and transient. Thus, if David Hume is at this hour Pontiff of the World, and rules most hearts, and guides most tongues (the hearts and tongues, even of those that in vain rebel against him), there are nevertheless, symptoms that his task draws towards completion; and now in the distance his Successor becomes visible. On the other hand, we have seen a Napoleon, like some Gunpowder Force (with which sort he, indeed, was appointed chiefly to work), explode his whole virtue suddenly, and thunder himself out and silent, in a space of five-and-twenty years. While again, for a man of true greatness, working with spiritual implements, two centuries is no uncommon period: nay, on this Earth of ours, there have been men whose Impulse had not completed its developement till after fifteen hundred years; and might, perhaps, be seen still individually subsistent after two thousand.

'But, as was once written, though our clock strikes when there 'is a change from hour to hour, no hammer in the horologe of time 'peals through the universe to proclaim that there is a change 'from era to era.' The true beginning is oftenest unnoticed, and unnoticeable. Thus do men go wrong in their reckoning; and grope hither and thither, not knowing where they are, in what course their history runs. Within this last century, for instance, with its wild doings and destroyings, what hope, grounded on miscalculation, ending in disappointment! How many world-famous victories were gained and lost, dynasties founded and subverted, revolutions accomplished, constitutions sworn to; and ever the " new era was come, was coming, yet still it came not, but the time continued sick! Alas, all these were but spasmodic convulsions of the death-sick time; the crisis of cure and regeneration to the time was not there indicated. The real new era was when a Wise Man came into the world with clearness of vision, and greatness of soul to accomplish this old high enterprise, amid these new difficulties, yet again: A Life of Wisdom. Such a man became, by Heaven's preäppointment, in very deed, the Redeemer of the time. Did he not bear the curse of the time? He was filled full with its skepticism, bitterness, hollowness, and thousandfold contradictions, till his heart was like to break: but he subdued all this, rose victorious over this, and manifoldly by word and act showed others that come after, how to do the like. Honor to him who first, through the impassable, paves a road!' Such indeed is the task of every great man; nay, of every good man in one or the