ART. 1. 1. Reflections on the Nature and Tendency of the present Spirit of the Times. By the Rev. G. BURGES. 8vo.

2. A Comparative View of the Principles of the Court and the Country Parties in Modern Times. 8vo. London, 1821. 3. Le Roi est Mort-Vive le Roi! Par le VICOMTE DE CHATEAUBRIAND. 8vo. Paris, 1821.

THE HERE is no better way of making any one sensible of his failings, than exhibiting the same failings in another person; and even nations, whose self-sufficiency and vanity far exceed that of individuals, may sometimes be prevailed upon to contemplate their own faults and prepared to correct them, by seeing their effects upon the people of other countries, when they would be too angry to listen to any reproofs of themselves. As there is, in the present age, a disposition, extremely prevalent with a party among us, to inculcate the most slavish maxims under the flimsy pretext of holding up loyalty, and recommending a sort of religious veneration for all establishments; and as there can be no doubt that the effect of their doctrines being generally received, if it is not the very object they have in view, would be to destroy the fundamental principles of the English constitution, it is fit that the people should, from time to time, be put on their guard against such wiles; and warned against suffering themselves gradually to adopt the language of despotic governments, and to substitute the feelings of servile flatterers, abjectly cringing before an arbitrary master, for the manly attachment to their country and its institutions, which becomes the citizens of a free state-subjects of a limited monarch, who is as much as themselves amenable to the law of the land. It is true, that the party we allude to may be thought to have come a century, or rather two centuA.

VOL. XLI. No. 81.

ries too late with their legitimacy,' their rightful sovereigns,' their chivalrous devotion to the crown,' their 'consecrated thrones and celestial altars.' There is no great fear, indeed, that such boyish tropes should ever usurp the place of that rational preference for limited monarchy, which has, upon the whole, cast the balance in its favour as against a commonwealth, chiefly because the latter is more likely to end in an absolute government. Yet the direct power, and the weight and influence of those who hold, and by their tools would propagate, the very worst opinions, is so great, from the stations they occupy in the country, and their places in the administration of its affairs, that their unceasing efforts in society, and through the press, cannot but be attended with some little success; and a tone of sycophancy towards mere Royalty is sometimes observable, which seems wholly at variance with the spirit of the age, The efforts of the High Church party, too, always the most bitter enemies of liberty, and indeed of all improvement, are steadily pointed in the same direction; because they justly believe that whatever tends to make the crown despotic, must lead to the extirpation of religious liberty, and the joint domination of priestcraft and kingcraft. It may therefore be worth while to show those whom the parties in question would fain seduce into the worship of despotism, how very creditable a figure its most pious adorers make in the eyes of reasonable men; and for the reason already given, as well as because this piety is far more fervent in France than elsewhere at the present moment, we may advantageously turn our eyes towards the lively emotions of religion and loyalty lately exhibited in the capital of that country.

Louis XVIII., though, as a private gentleman, he might have passed for a good humoured man, of some information and classical attainments, (nay even for a person of some talents, until he unwarily wrote a book), was certainly one of the least distinguished kings that ever sate on a throne. It is not that more insignificant princes have not reigned in ordinary times, but that he showed an eminent defect of all great qualities in trying emergencies. His emigration; his long life, or vegetation abroad previous to the sudden reverse of fortune which befel the French arms; his restoration by foreign force; his inglorious expulsion thereafter, when the mere sight of a great man's face, and the sound of his voice, drove all that was Bourbon instantaneously out of the country; his far more inglorious re-entry in the rear of the enemy's troops, by whom that country had been conquered and ravaged; his enduring the sceptre for years while the enemy's soldiers garrisoned his

territories; his later years passed in favouring all manner of attempts to defraud the people of the constitution to which he and his family pretended they owed their restoration -Such were the claims of the Monarch to the respect and the gratitude of Frenchmen; while the man was commended to their veneration by a life in which, for a considerable time past, the rational had nearly merged in the animal nature; and it was notorious that the state to which he was at last reduced by the most hopeless and shocking infirmities, rendered his death a release, in a degree exceeding almost any case ever before known. Over this prince-this individualbut above all this patient, whose deplorable condition was as well known as his advanced age, and about whose physical state, at least, the most loyal of devotees could not affect to raise a doubt-there have been chanted rhapsodies of lamentation and of love that would have appeared extravagant to all rational minds had Henry IV. been suddenly snatched from his people in the fulness of clemency and success, or Louis XIV. at the height of his splendour and his fortunes. Every one (says a journal) has learnt, with the utmost grief, the sad event which covers France with mourning.' This affliction was thus communicated to the soldiers of the garrison at Paris by their commandant, an officer, we will venture to say, not to be equalled in any army for steadiness of countenance, whatever may be said of him in other respects. • Sol

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diers his Majesty Louis XVIII. has just closed his glorious life. The King has ordered public prayers. It is his Majesty's, Charles the Xth's, intention that the troops should be present. Your standards, drums, and trumpets, are to be covered with black crape; the officers are to wear black crape their arms, and on their swords, till further orders. diers,' he added, with a loud but tremulous voice, after having 'given your tears for him, whom it has pleased God to take to himself, let us give our hearts, and our arms, and our blood, if necessary, for his Majesty Charles X. These words were answered by unanimous cries of "Vive le Roi!" " Vive Charles X. !" from the soldiers, of course, but whether with the loud and tremulous voice' or not, we have no means of ascertaining.

It is the custom, when a king of France dies, to show the body for some hours, as they do in Russia and elsewhere; a custom originating in the tricks so often practised or suspected within the walls of legitimate' palaces; and arising from the liability which their inhabitants have to go out of the world by other than natural deaths. Multitudes go to see, as a matter

of course, in a populous city, where there are always thousands of idly curious people. But even such an indifferent act as this must be turned into something tenderly sentimental, by the indefatigable chronicler of the court.

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An innumerable crowd came to-day to the Chateau to be• stow a last look on the coffin which contains the King France has just lost. More than sixty thousand persons came to offer this last homage; besides those who had cards, there 'were more than 1200 equipages in the Place du Carousel, and the adjacent parts. At three o'clock the multitude was ad'mitted. Not the smallest accident occurred.' It should seem, however, that the excess of grief was somewhat assuaged by the idea that the body yet remained in Paris. But the time was to arrive when even this consolation should be withdrawn; and who shall then presume to imagine the depth of woe into which the orphan people must be plunged! An ingenious device happily comes to their relief; by an opportune recourse to the constitutional fiction, by a sort of confounding of the persons,' a revival of the dead king is, as it were, operated. The manner in which these glad tidings are announced, must be allowed to be in admirable harmony with the subject matter.

This day (September 23d) the capital will be widowed of its King, who will not be restored to it, under new circumstances, (that is, in the shape of another and a different man) till Monday next. A funeral procession will advance this day through our walls, escorted by our tears; three days hence a Royal procession will return to us, saluted by the acclamations of our love. The immortal city will regain immortal Royalty-France and the Bourbons are imperishable.' Nor is it the least notable part of this happy receipt for the cure of loyal affliction, that the nostrum is one of universal application; for the dead King may be one of the Antonines, and succeeded (as indeed they were) by a Commodus; and yet he will revive in this successor, according to the cheering tenor of Royalist logic. It is another crumb of comfort afforded by the same rational system of legitimacy, and, with a kind consideration, afforded on the same day, that the appointment is announced of the Duke de Bordeaux, aged at least three years, perhaps four, to the Colonelcy of the Swiss Guards. How feelingly does this felicitous combination bring home to the thinking mind, the genius of immortal Royalty!' How exquisitely fitting is it that foreign mercenaries, kept in spite of nature to overawe imperishable France,' should, in spite of nature, be commanded by an infant! Truly the Bourbons

are imperishable,' if such things excite the gratitude of France.

Let us now hear the clamorous, the unruly grief of the organ of the Ultra party-the genuine lovers of Royalty for its own sake, and determined enemies of all popular rights. The overwhelming intelligence that an old man of seventy, who had never distinguished himself by any one act of his public or private life, had died, and was succeeded by an old man of sixtyeight who had distinguished himself as much, is thus communicated to an undone and sorrowing world.

The terrible catastrophe, which the ardent wishes of a whole people hoped in vain to avert, has been this instant accomplished. The King has ceased to live! Another son of St Louis has ascended to heaven. Let us pray for him; let us weep for ourselves, for his whole life was lavished on us. His last words were for his family, for his people, for all his children. Grief interdicts us even the praises which gratitude would dictate on the tomb which opens, on the benefits accumulated upon France by the Monarch who has just been ravished from her love. We would praise the King-the Legislator, but words fail us-we can only lament the father.

The agony endured long-Louis supported it as he had borne misfortune. Never did a Monarch, never did a man know better how to support the heavy burthen of age, adversity, of infirmities, of the Throne. He has quitted the earth for ever; but not a French heart will forget that he restored peace to our fields, children to our mothers, liberty to our laws, and, more recently still, glory to our standards. O Louis! thy last moments might be softened by the reflection, that nothing more remained to be done for our France, for ever secured under the immortal sceptre of the Bourbons.

The night conceals from us as yet the aspect of this afflicted capital. We pray, we weep, in the secrecy of our hearts. To-morrow our temples will be opened. Let us go thither, Frenchmen, to derive strength to support the immense loss we have suffered. Let us go to pray for the precious days of the King, who does not die, and who is restored for the consolation of France in the person of a magnanimous heir.

King Louis XVIII. is dead, Live King Charles X.!'

We trust no one can for a moment suspect us of believ ing that there is a word of truth in this most base piece of folly and sycophancy, excepting the single statement, that the King has ceased to live. That the whole, or any part of the French people, wished ardently, or at all, to avert the terrible catastrophe, is as contrary to the notorious fact, as that his last words were for his people, or that his exploits had left nothing to do for France. The contempt of fact, however, is not more remarkable than that of reason-the people are urged to pray for the King's life-why? Because he does not die.'