B. I shall always be at home to you, Sir Thomas, with pleasure. 0. Before we part, Sir Thomas, permit me to say that you mistake about the future emoluments of the Academicians. On that score they have little to care. Having already, in their hour of legislative folly, given away their revenues by wholesale, they have nothing left for themselves but a little petty retailing, of which, for their respective lives, they are tolerably secure-But we will talk of these matters, and of the academical school of Painting, another time. TABLE TALK. FEMALE INTELLECT.-In our reflections upon the conduct and influence of women in public affairs, we have remarked two or three curious facts. One is, that although by no means incapable of sovereignty in their own persons, their influential ascendency in politics is usually unfortunate. Does this arise from the necessity of ostensibly keeping behind the curtain, and of operating by intrigue; or is there any thing more sexual in the cause? Something, very likely, of both. The petty, contemptible, and secret machinery which must be employed in the first case, encumbers and impedes the genuine march of action; all is juggle, disguise, and trickery. History, as it regards female sway, either direct or indirect, we think, will bear out our opinion. When women even of acknowledged capacity have been allied to weak monarchs, and in consequence impelled to act from a sense of superiority, their interference has generally been unfortunate, because it never could be open and acknowledged, and intrigue and baseness formed its very essence. Marry the same women to able men, and not only are their talents serviceable, but their regulated interference eminently beneficial. In our own history, we have Isabel, the wife of Edward II.; Margaret of Anjou, and Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I., who, however accomplished as a man, was conspicuously weak as a sovereign and a husband. In France and other countries, Isabeau de Baviere, Joan of Naples, Catharine de Medicis, Catherine II. of Russia, and many more, may be quoted as examples of capable, or at least of enterprising women, married to weakness or inferiority, the result of which was exceedingly deplorable. Oppose these instances to an Eleonora, wife to Edward I., a Philippa, queen to Edward III., Mary, wife of William III. and many more, and we at once perceive the beauty and utility of feminine capacity in its proper place. France furnishes us with nothing exactly in point, because the helpmates of the kings of that nation have generally been their mistresses, as, when social order is perfectly restored, they are likely to be again; but, generally speaking, history furnishes innumera'ble examples. There is a sort of prudent women who manage these matters the most passably; such as Caroline, wife of George II., and several more; but even in these instances, the necessity of acting behind the curtain, and operating by intrigue, and with all kind of petty and contemptible machinery, encumbers and impedes the genuine march of action, and all is juggle, disguise, and artifice. The art of good writing has been defined, proper words in proper places; and reading persons' for 'words,' we are sure that the art matrimonial is so. 6 As we descend in rank and station, the instances become at once more numerous and less conspicuous; but it is very necessary to peruse a few such writers as Horace Walpole, Lady Mary Wortley Montague, and the compilers of the French Memoirs, to be aware of the wretched consequences of that female ascendancy, which is produced by the dereliction and weakness of the male. Belisarius and Marlborough were miserable examples of self-abandonment; but the old court of France possibly formed the finest exhibition of this sort in all history; almost every woman being at once a wife, a mistress, and an intriguante, to the utter confounding of all order, all decorum, all dignity of character; and to the production of a stagnant pool of heartless sensuality, intrigue, and corruption, of a nature to make the sty of Circe appear decent by comparison. Nothing less than the gale of a revolution could break up such a state of social degradation, in a great degree the result of a total neglect of all regulation of that feminine influence, so healthy in its proper operation, and so injurious in every other. We believe it will be found, that until we reach the very lowest artisans and labourers, female influence in wedlock increases as we descend; and arriving at that point, that it as suddenly declines; but in all these grades, the active and self-willed man, corrected and softened by the qualified influence of the careful and observant woman, supplies the best specimen of matrimonial well-being. Reaching the extreme point, where both sexes labour hard, we fear it is throwing away time to dwell on the point of mental superiority; but short of that, we think that woman gains upon man as they descend in life; for neither being much educated, and the sphere of the man being confined, the native quickness of the woman is comparatively in her favour; but even here it had better be otherwise, for the shrewdness too frequently becomes shrewishness; and no rank of society oftener exhibits the sneaking husband and the termagant wife. ...In a word, look which way we will, from the throne to the cottage, we shall find the social union respectable, in proportion as man is active and decided, and woman subordinate but influential. In no case can one usurp the place of the other with equal advantage; and although frequently a case of necessity presents itself, still the tax for counteracting a general law is incurred. Having furnished a clue, we must leave our readers to find their way through the remainder of the labyrinth; otherwise we might shew that even with exalted character on each side, man and woman cannot exchange parts without manifest inconvenience: but we have already reached our limits, and postpone an additional page to another opportunity. THE PLANTAGENETS.-The family so fantastically surnamed Plantagenet, as a royal one, produced a due proportion of very respectably gifted sovereigns. Henry II. Richard I. Edward I. Edward III. Henry IV. Henry V. Edward IV. and Richard III. whatever may be said of the vices of some of them, were indisputably men of energy and capacity. Place these against John, Henry III. Edward II. Rich. II. and Henry VI. and the balance is tolerably creditable. The Tudors, again, were an able and energetic dynasty; and if we regard the general tenor of English history, we shall find that race of Faineans never prospered among the robust spirits of the English soil. John was miserably put down, and the tottering crown of Henry III. was only kept on his head by an adult and able son. The sceptre again shrank from the puny grasp of the second Edward and Richard, and the sixth Henry. The Tudors all of them held it fast; but look at the Stuarts! Times are exceedingly altered, but not so much so, but that extreme weakness and waywardness might again change a dynasty, if coupled with consequent disaster and unprosperous times. HENRY IV. OF FRANCE.-The Bourbons are extremely fond of referring to Henry IV. and with reason, for he is the only sovereign of the branch who, in reality, conveys a notion of that mixture of levity, magnanimity, and bonhommie, which mingles more or less in the beauideal of a sovereign in estimation of Frenchmen. Louis XIII. was a miserable creature, and Louis XIV. always puts us in mind of the King of a Pageant-all canopy and elbow-chair. Louis XV. was one of the lowest of the animals in the sty of Circe-a Charles II. without his wit-and Louis XVI. an unequivocal simpleton.* Louis XVIII. according to all accounts, is of the train of Circe too, a kind of Grillust; his better qualities it will be time enough to dwell upon when they are discoverable: he is called a man of literature, and a sayer of good things, but if so, they exhibit any thing but the frankness and general sincerity of Henry IV.--We say general sincerity, for Henry could play the politician to secure partisans as well as other people, which, by the way, reminds us of a pleasant anecdote. His protestant partisan, the honest and open-hearted D'Aubigné, as a gentleman of his bed-chamber, slept with another in the same capacity called Frontenac, in the antichamber, or Garde de robe; and when Henry was flattering the Count de Soissons and many others, with the hopes of giving them his sister Catherine in marriage, by which he allured them to his service, D'Aubigné being in bed near Frontenac, whispered him, "How many brothers our master makes out of one sister." Frontenac not having heard him distinctly, asked what he had said, when Henry, who was remarkable for the quickness of his ear, replied, “Are you deaf, Frontenac? he says I make many brothers out of one sister." D'Aubigné, with great nonchalance exclaimed, " Go to sleep, Sire, we have a great deal more to say yet"-It must be confessed that the manly carelessness of the king to hear more, and the prompt humour of the imprudent whisperer, bestow a naiveté upon this anecdote, which is extremely pleasant. SIMILES.-It has been quaintly observed, that nothing is usually more unlike than the objects of comparison in a simile; an observation, however, which only tends to shew that it is seldom the objects themselves, but some obvious qualities which are compared. The remark is, notwithstanding, substantially correct in reference to much hyperbolical illustration of female beauty; a defect, in good taste, which is * We know not what allowance may be made for kings, but we are quite sure that the account given by Madame Campan of the cause of the fluctuation of high and low spirits in poor Marie Antoinette for some months after her marriage with Louis, would be quite conclusive in reference to other people. + See Masque by Ben Jonson. pleasantly reproved in the following speech from Shirley's Comedy of The Sisters. A lady thus remonstrates with a high-flown flatterer :I pity men of your high fancy Should dishonour their own names by forming If I were really what you so commend, Mankind would fly me. * * ** Two suns instead of eyes, and they not melt The forehead made of snow; no cheek but two Roses inoculated on a lily; Between, a pendant Alabaster nose; Lips cut out of coral; and no teeth The compound of these tasteless flatteries reminds us of the misfortune of poor Frankenstein, who, although he culls the finest materials and proportions to make his man-monster, turns him out a very frightful and forbidding personage. By the way, Mr. Gifford's Shirley is a long while on hand, but we hope the restored health of the veteran will allow him to complete the promised edition of this pleasing dramatist; in which labour he will serve literature much more effectually than by his quarterly criticism-sound port, in comparison with sloe juice. SONNET TO PERCY SHELLEY. HAST thou from earth, then, really passed away, Which were, but are not? Will thy harp's dear strings No more yield music to the rapid play Of thy swift thoughts, now thou art turned to clay ? Hark! Is that rushing of thy spirit's wings, When (like the skylark, who in mounting sings) Soaring through high imagination's way, Hath o'er thee rolled. But whilst within the grave LONDON:-Published by HENRY L. HUNT, 38, Tavistock-street, Covent-garden, and 22, Old Bond-street. Price Fourpence; or, if stamped for country circulation free of postage, Sevenpence. Sold by all Booksellers and Newsvenders in town; and by the following Agents in the country: THE LITERARY EXAMINER. No. XII, SATURDAY, SEPT. 27, 1823. REVIEW OF BOOKS. A View of France.-1604. IN the paucity of new books possessing that particular sort of interest which is adapted to the light and unpretending nature of this publication, we intend occasionally to notice any old productions, an attention to which may be retrospectively amusing. The short sketch, the brief title of which heads this article, appears to us to be of that description, not certainly from the extent or depth of its information, but as furnishing a characteristic, John Bullish account of France, by an Anti-gallican Englishman, who seems to have travelled there in the latter part of the reign of Henry IV. It is, in truth, merely as conveying a tolerably accurate specimen of prevalent English sentiment in regard to France, about the close of the reign of our own Elizabeth, that we meddle with it; so that our observations and extracts will tend rather to exhibit impressions than facts, and to illustrate the opposing points of French and English character and nationality at the interesting period in question, than to throw any additional light on particulars which may be better gathered from higher sources. The first thing we shall remark in our honest countryman, is his truly national adherence to certain English points of honour. The Salique law, he asserts, is decidedly modern and unjust; and to say the truth, upon the principles of pure legitimacy, such is indisputably the fact. This law, our author observes, was never heard of before the time of Philip the Long, "who caused it to be ratified by all the nobles of his kingdom;"—an arrangement, which is defensible upon a constitutional principle alone, and consequently null, for since the death of Cardinal York, every body knows the indefeasibility of legitimate succession. We shall not be suspected of any desire to revive our English claim upon France by these observations, but we like to point out remote conclusions, especially as attachment to the House of Stuart has now become a family boast, and a Court humour. It is delightful, indeed, to read of the magnanimity of our Gracious Sovereign in allowing the monument erected by him to the aforesaid Cardinal to record him as Henry IX. To be sure, there is no great merit in conceding a principle and retaining three kingdoms in breach of it; VOL. I. 13 |