"1764. Eclipse was allowed to be the fleetest horse that vity; they were not generally famed for stoutness, but ever ran in England since the time of Childers. After winning King's plates and other prizes to a great amount, he was kept as a stallion, and gained to his owner, for forty mares, the great sum of thirty guineas each.

spent in congratulating himself on his good fortune, in having made so good a bargain. On Finchley Common, and at a place where the road ran down a slight ascent and up another, the traveller met a clergyman driving a one-horse chaise. There was nobody within sight, and the horse, by his manœuvre, plainly intimated what had been the pro. fession of his former owner. Instead of passing the chaise, he laid his counter close up to it, and stopt it, having no doubt but his rider would embrace so fair an opportunity of exercising his vocation. The clergyman, never doubting the identity of the equestrian, produced his purse, unasked, and assured the astonished lawyer, that it was quite unnecessary to draw his pistol, as he did not intend to offer any resistance. The traveller rallied his horse, and, with many apologies to the gentleman he had so innocently and unwillingly affrighted, pursued his journey. The horse next made the same suspicious approach to a coach, from the windows of which a blunderbuss was levelled, with denunciations of death and destruction to the rider, though sackless, as he used to express it, of all offence in word or deed. In short, after his life had been once or twice endangered by the suspicions to which the conduct of his horse gave rise, and his liberty as often threatened by peace officers, who were disposed to apprehend him as a notorious highwayman who had formerly ridden the horse, he found himself obliged to part with the inauspicious animal for a mere trifle, and to purchase, at a dear rate, a horse less showy, and of inferior action, but of better moral habits."

We must not omit to mention, in conclusion, that the steel engravings, illustrative of the subject-matter of the volume, are spiritedly executed, and enhance the value of the work.

this is the manner in which it reviewed Goethe. Any thing in the common course of events it judges shrewdly and well; but novelties and innovations in literature startle and confound it. Ten years hence, it will have formed an opinion of Niebuhr's book, and will try to cram down our throats that it has held that opinion from the

first.

The article on the "Rise, Progress, and Decline of Commerce in Holland," is, if there be any faith in titles, from the pen of M'Culloch. Other men would content land," but he must use a circumlocution, descriptive of themselves with saying, "History of Commerce in Holwhat constitutes history. The subject of this paper is one regarding which too little is known in this country. Mr M'Culloch has narrated the leading facts in a manner interesting and attractive to all classes of readers, and, at the same time, indicative of patient and clear-headed research.

"Women as they Are," a new novel by Mrs Gore, to which considerable space is allotted, is an elegant, although somewhat verbose, piece of persiflage. The critic thanks his stars, in the outset, that he has met with “ a respectable specimen of that class of works called novels of fashionable life." From his detailed criticism, however, of Mrs Gore's work, we are somewhat at a loss to guess why he has elevated it in preference to any one of its numerous compeers. The truth is, the writer is a man at once gallant and conscientious. He could not bring himself to say any thing unpolite to a lady, but as little could he bring himself to say any thing that was not strictly true. The

The Edinburgh Review. No. CII. Edinburgh. Adam preliminary flourish is merely the usual soothing of a

Black. 1830.

child before you administer physic; the criticism which follows after is the real expression of what the writer thinks. But why single out Mrs Gore for this treat

THERE is much valuable matter in this Number. Of the twelve papers which it contains, six-viz. the papers on Sadler's Law of Population, Monk's Life of Bentley, the Life and Services of Sir Stamford Raffles, Sotheby's Specimens of a new Version of Homer, Law Reform, and Jefferson's Memoirs and Correspondence-ness. will be found at once interesting and instructive. The short puff of the Farmer's Series of the Library of Useful Knowledge is undeserving of notice. The remaining articles we propose to examine a little more in detail, both because of the talents displayed in them, and because of some little peculiarities, which show that the Edinburgh Review is still in tone and temper essentially the same as it was from the beginning.

ment? The critic wanted to spin a yarn about female novelists, and her work was the first new one that came to hand. His little theory is drawn out with all his usual sparkling elegance, but with less than his usual happiHe starts with the assertion, that women write novels better than men ; and mentions Miss Edgeworth, Mrs Opie, Miss Austin, Madame D'Arblay, and Mrs Gore. He prudently leaves unnamed the male monsters who might be opposed to this fair bevy; for Fielding, Smollett, and Scott, might have given a rude shock to his preliminary assumption. In reviewing the peculiar excellencies of the fair authors, he places Miss Edgeworth first, but protests against the opinion that her chief merit lies in the delineation of Irish character, allowing, at the same time, that Castle Rackrent is by far her best work. Miss Austin comes next, and unless we have sorely misunderstood him, purely because she has drawn none but commonplace characters, and that always in a commonplace style. After these comes Mrs Opie-then the Misses Burneys, senior and junior

The History of Rome, by Niebuhr, is reviewed by a writer of superior cleverness and great experience in composition, but is characterised by a want of liberality and solid information. He criticises Niebuhr's History in the same manner that the Edinburgh Review has criticised every truly original work since the era of its commencement. He does not know what to think of it. He has mind enough to acknowledge, in its powerful lan- then Mrs Hannah More-then Miss Hawkins (! ! !)— guage and daringly original views, the presence of a and then, after a list, some of whom are already forgotten, mighty spirit; but he has not mind enough to compre- and others are praised, on account of their amiable perhend it. He begins, therefore, with involuntary expres-sonal character, by those who cannot read their works, sions of vague respect; then runs chatteringly through he names the authoress of "Marriage" and "The Inthe index of the book, dipping occasionally into the text, heritance." Such an arrangement is quite in keeping picking out here and there a sentence, which, taken apart with the shallow canon which he laid down in the comfrom the context, looks absurd enough, and sneering at mencement of his article. "Gratiano talks an infinite it; and concludes with renewed professions of admira- deal of nothing-more than any man in Venice." We tion. Were we to read only the beginning and end of this regret to add, that we have reason to believe this precious criticism, we should believe its author an admirer of article to be the composition of the ex-Editor; but it is Niebuhr; were we to read only the middle part, we should certainly one of his worst. think he despised him; and had we not already been acquainted with the work, we should have obtained no knowledge of its nature or character from perusing the entire article. The time has been when such shilly-shallying would have enraged us. In the calmer temper, however, which age has brought along with it, we are able to see that the Edinburgh acts in this manner because its intellect is not of a standard to take a more decided course. This is the fashion in which it treated the Lake poets

The article on the Origin and Affinities of Language is full of information on a subject which has for some time back been entirely neglected in this country. The author (Dr Browne) has of late been dedicating almost the exclusive attention of his vigorous and indefatigable mind to it. We have had from his pen (besides the present article) a learned dissertation on Hieroglyphics, which we know excited a considerable sensation in Paris; another article on the same subject in the Foreign Quarterly Review

and one on Egyptian Notation, in the last number of the Westminster. We have announced also, that he is preparing a large elementary work on the graphic system and literature of the ancient Egyptians. In the paper at present under our consideration, the reader will find a great quantity of information respecting the present state of philology on the Continent; a just and unsparing, but not captious, summary of the achievements of our laborious triflers of late years; together with some ingenious views of the writer regarding language.

be discharged when convenient. I suppose Madame had not found a favourable opportunity of accomplishing her wish in this respect, when the Revolution broke out. You should now intrude upon your engagements; but my situawill think it singular, General, that for so small an affair I tion is so unfortunate, that this little sum is an object. Expatriated, exiled from my country, forced to seek refuge in this island, where my abode is odious to me, and so expensive, that it will prove a relief if you can let me have the sum, small as it is, and which would formerly have been a matter of indifference. This you may believe, General, when you think of one at the age of eighty, who, after sixty years spent in the service of his country, has been obliged to flee, subsisting on the slender provision granted by government to French emigrants;-I say emigrants, for I was obliged to become one; I had not the least idea of such a step, but I had, it seems, committed a great crime-I was the oldest general of the canton, and a Grand Cross of St Louis. My house at Caen was attacked by a band of rufnothing save what was on my person. In this state I came fians, and I had just time to escape by a back door, with to Paris. I was told there remained no other resource than to leave the country; yet I never had dispute or discussion with a human being, but lived in retirement. Thus, General, my property and movables were abandoned to the mercy of what was called the nation. The nation has profited to the full, for it has left me without wherein to lay my head. I do not ask, therefore, to return, for I have nowhere to go; besides, I have here a brother still more aged than myself, who, though in bad health, and in second infancy, was banished also, and whom I would not leave for any consideration. I am resigned to my unhappy lot; my only and great grief is, that not only have I myself been ill treated, but, contrary to law, this has influenced the situation of relations whom I love and respect. I have a stepmother eighty years of age, who has been refused her legal reversion. All this, if things do not change, will cause me to die a bankrupt: that will break my heart.-I confess, General, I am little acquainted with the new style, but, according to the old, am your humble servant,

The last article is political, and is preluded by a rather startling assertion on the part of the Edinburgh Review:— "We rarely and unwillingly devote our pages to the discussion of party matters, and what are usually termed the polities of the day." This paper is expressed in a strain of fervid eloquence, in a style which varies as the subject requires, from the most elevated to the most homely diction. It contains an exposé of the present state of parties in the country, which places the author's views (be they true or false) almost palpably before us. It throws down the gauntlet of defiance to the present ministry. It gives a rapid and vigorous sketch of the relative positions of the leading parties of the House of Commons, and, under the pretext of conjecturing their probable operations during next Session, throws out advice how to conduct them. Devoted to the nobler and calmer pursuits of literature, we pay little attention to politics, except when their storm rages so loud that no man can close his ears against it. We have not scrutinized very narrowly the characteristics of our leading statesmen; but if we may hazard an opinion in a field of intellectual exertion so foreign to us, we think that there is but one man in Eng-claim upou my property, which indeed I enjoyed only in land, likely to contribute to the Edinburgh Review, whose commanding and energetic mind is capable of projecting a political campaign like that which is here sketched out, -and that man is Henry Brougham. We regard it as his manifesto. This explains his refusal of office under the Duke; and announces to us a recurrence of the struggles of party, which believers in a political millennium looked upon as past away for ever.

Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte; from the French of M. Fauvelet de Bourrienne. By John S. Memes, LL.D. &c. In three volumes. Vol. II. Being Constable's Miscellany, Vol. LVIII. 1830. (Unpublished.) We have been favoured with an early copy in sheets of the second volume of Dr Memes' translation of Bourrienne. It is no less interesting than the first; but it treats of too great a variety of important matters, to make it possible to give any general view of the contents. We prefer laying before our readers a few passages, which

cannot fail to attract their attention. Our first extract contains

A FAVOURABLE ANECDOTE OF BONAPARTE.

"Among the immense number of letters received at this time, I have preserved some, and among these, one from an emigrant then resident in Jersey, General Beaumanoir. It contains details connected with the Bonapartean family, and appears to me very interesting. Jersey, 12th July, 1800. -I consider, General, that on your return I may, without impropriety, interrupt your daily occupations, to recall to your remembrance one whom I flatter myself you have not entirely forgotten, after a residence of more than eighteen years at Ajaccio. But perhaps you will feel surprised that so insignificant a matter should be the subject of the letter which I have the honour to address to you. You will recollect, General, that when your late father was obliged to go to Autun, in order to remove your brothers from the college there, and whence he went to see you at Brienne, be found himself at a loss for ready money; he asked me for twenty-five louis, (L. 16,) which I lent him with pleasure. After his return, he had not found it convenient to repay the sum, and when I left Ajaccio, your mother of fered to sell some plate in order to pay me. This I would not permit, requesting her to take her own time, and left the acknowledgment of your father with M. Souirez, to

DUROSEL BEAUMANOIR.'

"I make no remarks upon the irregularity of style or grammatical slips in this letter: when I had read it to the First Consul, Bourrienne,' said he with solemnity, that is sacred; lose not a minute. The good old man! Send ten times the sum. Write to General Durosel that I will take care of him. I will that he be immediately erased from the list of emigrants. What evils have been wrought by these ruffians of the Convention! I see plainly I never can repair all.' In speaking thus, Bonaparte betrayed an emotion rarely discernible in him. In the course of the same evening, he asked if his orders were executed: they had been expedited instantly."

Bourrienne gives a very picturesque account of the circumstances which led to his temporary separation from Bonaparte. Before this separation actually took place, several misunderstandings, pretty briskly supported on both sides, occurred. Among these, the following strikes us as peculiarly characteristic:

BOURRIENNE'S FIRST QUARREL WITH BONAPARTE. "Nine months before this time, I had offered my resignation; for the labour had become too severe, and the confinement too unremitting, for my health. The physician had, doubtless, spoken to the same effect with the First Consul; for the latter said to me, one day, in a tone little soothing, Why, Bourrienne, Corvisart tells me you have not a year to live.' The compliment was not over kind on the part of an early friend; especially as the doctor's prediction seemed not unlikely to be fulfilled. I had formed the resolution of retiring, which was urged also by my family; but various considerations retained me in a state of uncertainty; of these, affection for the First Consul-a friend from seven years of age, and this friendship only interrupted once by Joseph's machinations-was not the least. An unforeseen occurrence terminated my indecision. On the 27th of February, 1802, at ten in the evening, Bonaparte dictated to me a diplomatic dispatch of great importance, and very urgent, for M. de Talleyrand, who was, at the same time, directed to repair to the Tuileries, at an hour mentioned. According to established usage, I remitted this letter to the officer on duty, to be sent to the minister. This was on a Saturday. On the morrow, Sunday, M. de Tal

leyrand arrived, as if for audience, about mid-day. The First Consul having immediately addressed him on the subject of the dispatch, was extremely surprised to find the minister had received it only that morning. He rang instantly for the attendant to call me. As he was in very bad humour, he pulled the bell-rope with so much precipitation, that he struck his knuckles violently against the corner of the chimney-piece. I entered in all haste. Why,' cried he, addressing me abruptly, why was my letter not delivered last night?' I know not; I gave it instantly to the person whose duty it was to cause the letters be delivered. Go, enquire about the delay, and return quickly.' Having rapidly informed myself how matters stood, I returned to the cabinet: Well?' said the First Consul, whose il temper had rather increased than otherwise.Well, General, no one is in fault; M. de Talleyrand was to be found neither at the office, nor at home, nor in any of the circles he usually frequents.' Not knowing on whom to vent himself, restrained by the impassibility of Talleyrand, but choking with rage, Bonaparte rose, left the cabinet, and went to interrogate the officer in waiting, which he did in an abrupt manuer, putting the latter quite out, who stammered, and replied incoherently; thus exciting more and more the irritation of the enquirer. Seeing the Consul thus beside himself, I had followed; and, on his returning towards the cabinet, endeavoured to pacify him, entreating him not to make so much noise about an affair, which, after all, was not of such moment. I know not if his violence arose from seeing the blood streaming from his fingers, and which he looked at every instant, taking, as the reader knows, great pride in his hands; but a most outrageous fury, such as I had never before witnessed, seized upon him; and as I was about to enter the cabinet at the same time, he flung the door from him with such violence, that most infallibly, had I been two or three inches nearer, I should have had my face broken. This almost convulsive action he accompanied by an address quite unbearable, calling out to me, in presence of M. de Talleyrand, Leave me alone! you are a —————— beast.' At these unheard-of words, I confess the rage which filled the First Consul, on a sudden fired me also, and that, transported by a resolution quick as lightning, I opened, not less rudely than he had shut, the door, and cried, being really no longer in my senses, You are a hundred times a greater beast than I!' It was during the interregnum which afterwards took This said, I shut the door, and ascended to my own apart-place, notwithstanding this reconciliation, in Bourrienne's

and finally hinted at the Tribunate. 'That does not suit you,' said he: they are declaimers and speechifiers, whom I will send about their business. All the disturbances in other quarters proceed from the harangues of the Tribunate: I'll have no more of them.' He went on in such a tone as left no doubt on the uneasiness caused him by this assembly, in whose ranks were to be found men of great talents and noble characters. In fact, during the same year, 1802, it was reduced to fifty members, and, somewhat later, entirely suppressed.

ments in the floor above.

"Such a separation was as far from my wishes as from my expectation; but what was done could not be undone. I seized the occasion, however, without leaving time for reflection; and, still trembling with resentment, traced, in these terms, the offer of my resignation:- General,-The state of my health permits me no longer to continue my service near your person. I beg you to accept my resignation.

"On the morrow, (Tuesday,) the First Consul asked me to breakfast with him. After breakfast, while he was conversing with some one, Madame Bonaparte and Hortense pressed me to make some advances; pointing out, with all the gentleness and kindly feeling they had ever shown me, that I ought to do so, seeing I had also been wrong, and had forgotten myself. I replied, that the evil seemed past remedy, and that, besides, I really required repose. At that moment, the First Consul called me; conversed a long time with me; and renewed his promises of kindness. "At five o'clock, I was about to quit the Tuileries for good, when I was informed the First Consul wished to see me. Duroc, who was in the antechamber leading into the cabinet, said, as I passed through,- My good fellow, he wants you to remain. I beseech thee not to refuse: do me this favour. I have declared to him that I cannot manage these affairs: I am not accustomed to them; and, between us, they annoy me too much.' I entered the cabinet without replying. The First Consul approached with a smile, and taking me by the ear, as in his gracious moments, said, -What! still in the sulks?' and conducted me, in this manner, to my usual place. Come, seat yourself there.' To judge of my situation, the reader must have known him. He had, when he pleased, a most winning manner. I had not the power to resist: I could not even reply; and resumed my usual tasks. A few minutes after, dinner was announced. You will dine with me to-day?' said he. I cannot; I am expected where I was going when you sent to call me: I cannot break my engagement.'-' In that case I have nothing more to say; but give me your word that you will be here at eight.I give it you.' Thus, I found myself reinstated as confidential secretary of the First Consul, and believed our reconciliation sincere."

secretaryship, that the unfortunate Duke D'Enghien met his fate. The ex-secretary does not scruple to speak in the most unmitigated terms of the First Consul's conduct in reference to this affair, and expressly states, perhaps over-confidently, that he is of opinion D'Enghien's death would not have taken place had he been secretary at the time. BOURRIENNE.' The following is the account he gives of this disgraceful transaction :

"Some minutes after, I saw from my windows, saddlehorses brought upon the terrace. This was contrary to custom, Bonaparte seldom riding out on horseback on Sunday. Duroc accompanied him. I descended soon afterwards to the cabinet, and laid my letter on his table. turning at four o'clock, and seeing it, he said to Duroc, before breaking the seal,- Ah! ha! a letter from Bourrienne; adding almost immediately-for to read the billet required brief space-He is in a pet-Accepted! I had quitted the Tuileries at the moment of his return. Duroc sent the following note, while at dinner: - The First Consul, my dear Bourrienne, commands me to say, that he accepts thy resignation; and requests thee to inform me about his papers. I embrace thee.-P.S. I will call presently.'

THE EXECUTION OF THE DUKE d'enghien. "General Ordener, commandant of the horse grenadiers of the guard, received instructions from the Minister of Re-War to repair to the Rhine, where the chiefs of the gend'armes of New Brissac were placed under his command. General Ordener dispatched a squadron of these to Ettenheim, where, on the 15th March, they seized the Prince. He was immediately conveyed to the citadel of Strasbourg, and there detained till the arrival of orders from Paris. These were speedy, and as promptly executed; for the carriage which brought the unfortunate Prince arrived at the barrier on the 20th, at one o'clock in the morning. There the cavalcade halted for the space of five hours, and afterwards took the road to Vincennes, by the outer ramparts of Paris, reaching its destination at nightfall. Every thing in this horrible transaction passed during the night; the sun was not to enlighten even its tragic close. The escort received orders to enter Vincennes at night; at night the fatal gates closed upon the captive; during the night assembled the Council which tried, or rather which condemned, without having tried, the accused; while the clock was yet striking six, the command to fire was given, and at six o'clock, before the sun had yet risen, the Prince had ceased to live. Here I may be permitted a single reflection. Even should it be admitted, that the Council, held on the 10th March, had an influence on the arrest of the Duke, there was no Council held between his arrival at the barrier and the moment of execution; it could then have been no one save Bonaparte who gave the final orders-too punctually followed,

"About eight o'clock he came for me. The First Consul was in the cabinet when we entered. I immediately began to explain to Duroc the necessary arrangements. Piqued to find I did not speak to him, and at the coolness with which I talked to Duroc, Bonaparte said to me, in the harshest tone, Have done, you there is quite enough of that: leave me!' I leaped from the steps, upon which I had mounted for the purpose of showing Duroc the situation of some papers, and retired instantly. I, too, had quite enough of that!

"In looking out for a convenient domicile, two days more were passed at the Tuileries. On the Monday, I descended to the apartments of the First Consul, to offer my adieus. We conversed long and amicably together: he expressed regret that I was leaving him, and said he would do every thing for me in his power. I mentioned several places;