poet's son); and it was not known in the College whether it was drawn up in James's life, or by the direction of his son, the Pretender. I doubt whether Carte ever saw the original journal; but I learn, from undoubted authority, that Macpherson never did; and yet to read his preface, pages 6 and 7, (which pray advert to), one would have supposed, not only that he had inspected it accurately, but that all his extracts at least, if not Carte's also, were taken from it. Macpherson's impudence in attempting such an imposition, at a time when almost any man could have detected him, would have been, in another man, incredible, if the internal evidence of the extracts themselves against him were not corroborated by the testimony of the principal persons of the College. And this leads me to a point of more importance to me. Principal Gordon thought, when I saw him at Paris in October 1802, that all the papers were lost. I now hear, from a well-informed person, that the most material, viz. those written in James's own handwriting, were indeed lost, and in the way mentioned by Gordon; but that the Narrative, from which only Macpherson made his extracts, is still existing; and that Mr Alexander Cameron, Blackfriars Wynd, Edinburgh, either has it himself, or knows where it is to be found. p. xxxvi. xxxvii. Upon inquiry, Lord Holland found, that this narrative was in the hands of Dr Cameron, Roman Catholic Bishop in this city; and obtained from that respectable person the following account of the fate of James's original manuscripts. "Before Lord Gower, the British Embassador, left Paris, in the beginning of the French Revolution, he wrote to Principal Gordon, and offered to take charge of those valuable papers, (King James's Manuscripts, &c.), and deposit them in some place of safety in Britain. I know not what answer was returned, but nothing was done. Not long thereafter, the Principal came to England, and the care of every thing in the College devolved on Mr Alexander Innes, the only British subject who remained in it. About the same time, Mr Stapleton, then President of the English College of St Omer, afterwards Bishop in England, went to Paris, previously to his retiring from France; and Mr Innes, who had resolved not to abandon his post, consulted with him about the means of preserving the manuscripts. Mr Stapleton thought, if he had them at St Omer, he could, with small risk, convey them to England. It was therefore resolved, that they should be carefully packed up, addressed to a Frenchman, a confidential friend of Mr Stapleton, and remitted by some public carriage. Some other things were put up with the Manuscripts. The whole arrived without any accident, and was laid in a cellar. But the patriotism of the Frenchman becoming suspicious, perhaps upon account of his connexion with the English College, he was put in prison; and his wife, apprehensive of the consequences of being found to have English manuscripts, richly bound and ornamented with royal arms, in her house, cut off the boards, and destroyed them. them. The Manuscripts, thus disfigured, and more easily huddled up in a sort of bundle, were secretly carried, with papers belonging to the Frenchman himself, to his country-house, and buried in the garden. They were not, however, permitted to remain long there; the lady's fears increased, and the Manuscripts were taken up and reduced to ashes. This is the substance of the account given to Mr Innes, and reported by him to me in June 1802, in Paris. " "I need not trouble your Lordship with my reflections upon this relation; but I ought not to omit that I was told, sometimes, that all the Manuscripts, as well as their boards, were consumed by fire in the cellar in which they had been deposited upon their arrival at St Omer." p. xxviii.—xxxi. The only other part of Lord Holland's statement to which we think it neceffary to call the attention of the reader, is that in which he thinks it neceffary to explain the peculiar notions which Mr Fox entertained on the fubject of hiftorical compofition, and the very rigid laws to which he had subjected himself in the execution of his important task. It is, therefore, necessary to observe, that he had formed his plan so exclusively on the model of ancient writers, that he not only felt some repugnance to the modern practice of notes, but he thought that all which an historian wished to say, should be introduced as part of a continued narration, and never assume the appearance of a digression, much less of a dissertation annexed to it. From the period, therefore, that he closed his Introductory Chapter, he defined his duty as an author, to consist in recounting the facts as they arose, or in his simple and forcible language, in telling the story of those times. A conversation which passed on the subject of the literature of the age of James the Second, proves his rigid adherence to these ideas, and perhaps the substance of it may serve to illustrate and explain them. In speaking of the writers of that period, he lamented that he had not devised a method of interweaving any account of them or their works, much less any criticism on their style, into his History. On my suggesting the example of Hume and Voltaire, who had discussed such topics at some length, either at the end of each reign, or in a separate chapter, he observed, with much commendation of their execution of it, that such a contrivance might be a good mode of writing critical essays, but that it was, in his opinion, incompatible with the nature of his undertaking, which, if it ceased to be a narrative, ceased to be a history. p. xxxvi. xxxvii. Now, we mult be permitted to fay, that this is a view of the nature of hiftory, which, in fo far as it is intelligible, appears to be very narrow and erroneous; and which feems, like all fuch partial views, to have been fo little adhered to by the author himfelf, as only to exclude many excellences without attaining the praife even of confiftency in error. The object of hiftory, we conceive, conceive, is to give us a clear narrative of the tranfactions of past ages, with a view of the character and condition of those who were concerned in them, and fuch reafonings and reflections as may be neceffary to explain their connexion, or natural on reviewing their refult. That fome account of the authors of a literary age fhould have a place in fuch a compofition, feems to follow upon two confiderations: first, because it is unquestionably one object of history to give us a distinct view of the state and condition of the age and people with whofe affairs it is occupied; and nothing can ferve fo well to illustrate their true ftate and condition as a defcription of the authors they produced: and, secondly, because the facts that fuch and fuch authors did flourish in fuch a period, and were ingenious and elegant, or rude and ignorant, are facts which are interefting in themselves, and may be made the object of narrative just as properly as that such and fuch princes or minifters did flourish at the fame time, and were ambitious or flothful, tyrannical or friends to liberty. Political events are not the only events which are recorded even in ancient history; and now, when it is generally admitted, that even political events cannot be fully understood or accounted for without taking into view the preceding and concomitant changes in manners, literature, commerce, &c. it cannot fail to appear furprifing, that an author of fuch a compafs of mind as belonged to Mr Fox, fhould have thought of confining himself to the mere chronicling of wars or factions, and held himself excluded, by the laws of hiftorical compofition, from touching upon topics fo much more interefting. The truth is, however, that Mr Fox has by no means adhered to this plan of merely telling the ftory of the times' of which he treats. On the contrary, he is more full of argument, and what is properly called reflection, than most modern hiftorians with whom we are acquainted. His argument, to be fure, is chiefly directed to ascertain the truth of reputed facts, or the motives of ambiguous actions; and his reflections, however juft and natural, may commonly be confidered as redundant with a view to mere information. Of another kind of reafoning, indeed, he is more sparing, and of a kind far more valuable, and, in our apprehenfion, far more effential to the true perfection of history. We allude now to thofe general views of the caufes which influence the character and difpofition of the people at large; and which, as they vary from age to age, bring a greater or a smaller part of the nation into contact with its government, and ultimately produce the fuccefs or failure of every fcheme of tyranny or freedom. The more this fubject is meditated, the more certain, we are perfuaded, it will appear, that all permanent and important occurrences in the internal history of a country, are the result of those changes changes in the general character of its population; and that kings and minifters are neceffarily guided in their projects by a feeling of the tendencies of this varying character, and fail or fucceed exactly as they had judged correctly or erroneously of its condition. To trace the causes and the modes of its variation, is, therefore, to describe the true fources of events; and merely to narrate the occurrences to which it gave rife, is to recite a hiftory of actions without intelligible motives, and of effects without affignable causes. It is true, no doubt, that political events operate in their turn on that national character by which they are previously moulded and controuled; but they are very far, indeed, from being the chief agents in its formation; and the history of those very events is neceffarily imperfect, as well as uninftructive, if the confideration of those other agents is omitted. They confift of every thing which affects the character of individuals,-manners, education, prevailing occupations, religion, tafte, and, above all, the diftribution of wealth, and the state of prejudice and opinions. It is the more to be regretted that fuch a mind as Mr Fox's should have been bound up from fuch a fubject by the shackles of an idle theory, because the period of which he treats affords the fineft of all opportunities for profecuting fuch an inquiry, and does not indeed admit of an intelligible or fatisfactory history upon any other conditions. There are three great events, falling within that period, of which, it appears to us, that the story has not yet been intelligibly told, for want of fome fuch analyús of the national feelings. One is, the univerfal joy and fincere confidence with which Charles II. was received back, without one ftipulation for the liberties of the people, or one precaution against the abuses of power. This was done by the very people who had waged war against a more amiable Sovereign, and quarrelled with the Protector for depriving them of their freedom. It is faying nothing, to say, that Monk did this by means of the army. It was not done either by Monk or the army, but by the nation; and even if it were not fo, the question would still be, by what change in the difpofitions of the army and the nation Monk was able to make them do it. The second event which must always appear unaccountable upon the mere narrative of the circumftances, is the bafe and abject fubmiffion of the people to the avowed tyranny of Charles, when he was pleafed at laft to give up the ufe of Parliaments, and to tax and govern on his own fingle authority. This happened when moft of those must have still been alive who had feen the nation rife up in arms againft his father, and within five years of the time when it rose up ftill more unanimoufly against his fucceffor, and not only changed the fucceffion of the crown, but very ftrictly defined and limited its prerogatives. The The third, is the Revolution itself; an event which was brought about by the very individuals who had submitted fo quietly to the domination of Charles, and who, when affembled in the House of Commons under James himself, had, of their own accord, fent one of their members to the Tower for having obferved, upon a harsh and tyrannical expreffion of the King's, that he hoped they were all Englishmen, and not to be frighted with a few hard words.' It is not to give us the history of these events, merely to fet down the time and circumstances of their occurrence. They evidently require fome explanation, in order to be comprehended; and the narrative will be altogether unfatisfactory, as well as totally barren of inftruction, unless it give fome ac.count of those changes in the general temper and opinion of the nation, by which fuch contradictory actions became poffible. Mr Fox's conception of the limits of legitimate hiftory, reftrained him, we are afraid, from entering into fuch confiderations; and they will best estimate the amount of his error, who are most aware of the importance of the information of which it has deprived us. Nothing, in our apprehenfion, can be beyond the province of legitimate hiftory, which tends to give us clear conceptions of the times and characters with which that history is converfant; nor can the ftory of any time be complete or valuable, unless it look before and after, to the caufes and confequences of the events which it details, and mark out the period with which it is occupied, as part of a greater feries, as well as an object of separate confideration. In proceeding to the confideration of Mr Fox's own part of this volume, it may be as well to complete that general estimate of its excellence and defects which we have been led incidentally to exprefs in a good degree already. We shall then be able to pursue our analysis of the fucceffive chapters with less distraction. The sentiments, we think, are almost all just, and candid, and manly; but the narrative is too minute and diffusive, and does not in general flow with much spirit or facility. Inconsiderable incidents are detailed at far too great length; and an extreme and painful anxiety is shown to ascertain the exact truth of doubtful or contested passages, and the probable motives of insignificant and ambiguous actions. The labour which is thus visibly bestowed on the work, appears disproportioned to the importance of the result. The history becomes, in a certain degree, languid and heavy; and something like a feeling of disappointment and impatience is generated, from the tardiness and excessive caution with which the story is carried forward. In those constant attempts too, to verify the particulars which are narrated, a certain tone of debate is frequently assumed, which savours more of the orator than the historian; and though there is nothing florid or rhetorical in the general |