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feems to have been the chief recommendation of the catholic system, along with political designs, as the name and sanction of the pope continue to bear a great weight on the catholic countries of Europe. On the other hand the protestant system, as practised in the north, would be too bare and severe for the warm imaginations and ardent passions of southern climates. The people there must be excited to devotion by sensations and not by arguments; and the very idea of religion is es sentially connected with pomp, show, and ceremony. They might become atheists, but not protestants. Their passions are also so fervid and uncontroulable by reason, that confession and absolution become the balm of their souls. It is not therefore the protestant system, but a modification of the catholic, which would be best received, and the most generally understood and practised. The prince in particular ought to be head of the church; and the marriage of priests to be allowed and even enforced.

The defenders of the new order of things allow that their conduct is a sufficient apology for the monarchy, as, in order to retain their power, they have been obliged to have recourse to the same means, and some yet more tyrannic; for ancient reputation, the grand defence of the former government, being at present annihilated, other fortifications become necessary. Though the priests be viewed with a jealous eye, and some recent incidents have shown that the greatest calamities, and the most severe experience cannot overcome their innate taste for persecution, so foreign to the genuine spirit of christianity, yet it is seriously allowed by men in power that they are necessary evils, and, like war, cannot be banished from society. Nor are the abominable persecutions of the atheistic party forgotten; compared with whom the priests, however ignorant and superstitious, may be regarded as benefactors of mankind. These advocates for the new order of things

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also consider the republican form as foreign to the character and habits of the French nation; and think that, after such a violent effervescence and ebullition, severe straints are indispensable for some time, in order to secure the national tranquillity. But after a period they still affect a hope that rational and practical liberty will be established, with just gradations and prudent precautions. If you demand what advantages the new system possesses over the ancient monarchy, they will say, "that strength and talents are united against feudality and superstition; that a new vigour is breathed into every department; that no attention being paid to birth, talents have at least a chance for promotion; that this accumulation of talents has been the cause of such an ascendancy as France never experienced during any former period of her history; and that this ascendancy must, in the very nature of things, continue to increase so long as the feudal privileges, and the hereditary want of abilities, continue to be respected in other countries, where it is the interest of France that they be preserved so far as her influence can extend, and thus contribute to a constant and increasing inferiority." In short, that universal sovereignty, so long the favourite ambition of France, is flattered by the new order of things; and the national vanity has unexpectedly become a barrier against the restoration of the monarchy.

The democratic party, on the contrary, execrate the perdition of their schemes of public freedom, the violation of so many constitutions, and so many oaths of allegiance; the humiliation of their country after the waste of so many efforts, and a prodigality of crimes. The foreign birth of the new dynasty, and the open contempt of the popular voice, are also subjects of resentment; though the nations of Europe have been long accustomed to see foreigners on their thrones; though the example of a sovereign having arisen from the middle class be in the

218

democratic order of the day; though
a foreign prince, having less claim
to favour, will be more strictly
watched, and it be generally the in-
terest of the people that the mon-
arch be hated; though the popular
voice have been so degraded, in la-
vishing applause to the basest assas-
sins, that its approbation might be
regarded as infamy. Still there are
not a few who regret the constitu-
tion of 1793, though it led to so
complete anarchy !

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The conscription is the chief object of complaints, and justly regarded as a singular oppression, unknown in the monarchy, when the army was recruited by bribery, perguasion, and artifice. The conscription, by which all the youth of France may be called to arms, precisely at that period of life, when, the expences of their sustenance and education being completed, they begin to fulfil the hopes of their parents and friends, often occasions the deep. est domestic distress, and must be considered a heavy balance against any advantages whatever. All their other professions must suffer from this military education, which estranges youth from application, and interrupts their progress, The extreme favour shown to military pursuits also tends to restore the reign of barbarism and the sword; and it is to be apprehended that the arts and sciences will sink into decline. For though, at present, nobility being abolished, and wealth generally in the hands of intriguing upstarts, there are only two orders of men who retain great influence, the military and the distinguished men of letters, yet the pacific olive cannot shoot freeİy, nor bear much fruit, when planted under the strong and overbearing It of course shade of the laurel. dwindles; and the oil which ought to feed the lamps of science becomes feeble or impure. The great preponderance of the military leaves the interests of science at the capricious nod of arbitrary power; and though some of the sciences be necessarily connected with the theory and practice of war, and the arts be objects

.

of luxury, and it is to be hoped that
learning will continue to be encou-
raged, if it were only for the na-
tional reputation and glory, as it has
been justly observed, that the chief
glory of every people arises from its
authors, yet even the least timid en-
tertain apprehensions that the camp
may, as usual, be adverse to the
gown.

In one respect, a visible degrada-
tion of literature, or at least of the
literary character, has already taken
place; for a new power being fond
of ardent admirers, and the Italians
fond of flattery, dedications and
passages begin to appear, worthy of
the basest times of the Roman em-
pire, when the senate chaunted hymns
of adulation to their god the empe
ror. The names and praises of
Alexander the great, Julius Cæsar,
and Charlemagne, are only adduced
as examples infinitely inferior to one
of our own times. The purity of
the French language, which only
bowed in genteel acquiescence and
proud duty before the native mo-
narchs, is debased by barbarous hy.
perboles of flattery, and sighs in the
mouth of slavish adulation. A truly
great mind would despise and check
these effusions, and regard 'a pot of
incense as a poisonous perfume. To
be praised with moderation and
dignity, to be served by the hand,
and not by the knee, would be the
wish of modest and genuine heroism,
which always reserves one ear for
the voice of posterity. But in this
respect the Italians, as may be judg-
ed from a late work of Denina, dedi-
cated to the prince Eugene Beau-
harnois, show the greatest excess;
and it is to be hoped that their piti-
ful flattery will not find imitators,
nor be considered as a symptom of the
decline of literature.

In a comparative view of the advantages and disadvantages which have arisen to France from the revolution, the new improvements of the capital, the canals and highways, and many other objects of public utility, must not be forgotten. These improvements, some of which are very striking, and would do honour to any

sovereign, contribute not a little to reconcile the French to the new or der of things. The public money is not consumed by mistresses and greedy courtiers, but employed in laudable ameliorations. This then may be placed on the fair side of the medal; but so many objects remain for the reverse, that it is probable, after a most ample and fair discussion, that the question will be reserved for the decision of posterity.

The chief advantage of any government or change, is that it be for the advantage of the greater number. In other words, the improved or depressed condition of the poor may be assumed as a barometer, to show whether the political atmosphere be heavy or salutary. In this point of view, France has probably gained in the country, and lost in the cities, where the poor are reputed to have greatly increased. In the country, however, numbers of sturdy peasants will surround your carriage, on waiting for a change of horses; while in the cities there are few beggars. The aged and sickly poor ought doubtless to receive a maintenance from a tax on the superfluities of the rich; but it is a disgrace to a country to see healthy peasants begging alms, as it is evident that they only want occasions to employ their industry and as there are so many waste lands in various quarters of the globe, perhaps a colonial conscription might be a salutary measure, as it would transport to distant regions and easy opportunities of industry, many hands and mouths which now only consume the industry of others. Some writers have pretended that France has a necessary occasion for colonies to evacuate the excess of her population; if so, this project would require no apology. The army, however, will continue to devour a considerable part of this excess; nor is it probably that the new government shall be reduced to say, with Sancho Panza in his island, "Let me alone to make money. I shall sell all my subjects, skin and bone, old and

VOL. VI. NO. XXXVI.

young, male and female, fat and lean, they shall jump at so much a head. Down with your money, gentlemen." Certainly, if soldiers were to be sold, as in the dominions of some German princes, Bonaparte might clear an enormous fortune by the sale of his live stock. As the French laugh at every thing, even this mode of argument may be admitted; but on a serious view of the subject, the population of France is considered as of speedy increase, and as there are few or no colonies to drain this population, and leave a greater share of comforts for the remainder, it is probable that the increase of the poor in France will be considered as a convincing proof, that much has been lost by the revolution, as the monarchy presented more resources against this growing evil. It is true that the same evil exists even in countries which have ample colonies, but where the government, following a blind routine, can neither discover nor use new and grand remedies, for new and wide maladies; yet in the boldness and decision of the French government it would not be a matter of surprize that the useless poor capable of labour were gradually transported to distant countries, instead of consuming the bread which they do not earn; a measure which might at once alleviate the national distress, and remove what is justly regarded as the greatest reproach which can be made to any government, the number of the unhappy under its domination. Nor is there any other national remedy against the increase of idle poor, the greatest evil which can happen in society, and, in time, an infallible cause of subversion.

For the Literary Magazine.

ANACREON MOORE versus AMERICA.

SOME ardent lovers of their country are extremely offended with Moore, the Anacreontic poet, for

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speaking contemptuously of America, in his poems, lately published. It appears to me that we cannot in jure our own credit and debase our own dignity more than by allowing the smallest regard to such provocations. It is indeed imputing a hundred times more importance to the random censures of ignorant, self-conceited, and vagabond travelers than they deserve. As to Moore, in particular, I never heard of any merit he possessed beyond that of a writer of drinking songs and love ditties. Even his warmest admirers say no more of him, than that he drinks genteelly, plays well on the piano-forte, and writes very fine verses, and sings his own verses scientifically. Whatever dignity some may annex to these various accomplishments, they certainly do not imply any great capacity for impartially surveying the m nrers of a nation; and, instead of being greatly hurt that such a man should see nothing in America to interest and admire, it would be extremely wonderful, and truly mortifying to a rational American, if he had met with any thing deserving his praise. What are the circumstances which would possibly have interested him? What could have claimed his respect? A knowledge of his general character, and a perusal of his works, will tell us what. He must have found plenty of excellent Madeira; many admirers of such writers as Anacreon, Tibullus, and Secundus; many who conceive the highest human excellence to consist in keeping up a contest of singing, drinking, and jesting till midnight, over a dinner table, in producing an extemporary epigram, or quoting a luscious description. They must be learned; that is, they must be able to retail sentences of Greek and Latin in common conversation. They must be polite; that is, they must give suppers, and preside at them with well adjusted elbows, a cravat fresh from the laundress, and indefatigable attention to the great man who is their guest. They must possess a refined taste; that is, they must be

able to select the best Madeira and Champaigne : poetry, that is, song writing, and music, that is, song singing, must be the business of their lives. Their philosophy must be truly orthodox, and admit nothing into her list of bona et delecta but a sparkling glass and a handsome courtezan. Had Moore found plenty of such people as these in America, no doubt he would have honoured us with a full share of his approbation; and those good citizens who now wince under the lash of his satire, would probably have escaped some of the mortifications he has made them suffer.

I have heard of serious answers being published to his sarcasms. This surely is descending too low. What answer can be made? What is there to confute? Moore seems merely to have described his own impressions, and to have described them truly. He took a hasty flight through the country, stopping whereever he could find wit, wine, and a reader of Anacreon; and as these are scarce among us, or he did not chance to gain access to many of the haunts of our choice spirits, he was of course disgusted with such a dull, ignorant, tasteless crew, and honestly acknowledges that he only found himself in his proper element in the cabin of an English frigate, where jest, song, and the bottle are the only resources from the tedium of a long cruise.

He has indeed retold a few tales of scandal, which he could not avoid hearing, and which he probably never heard contradicted; and to fret and fume at such a misdemeanour as this would be truly absurd.

The proper mode of treating the reproaches of such a traveller is exemplified in an exquisite piece of badinage, which originally appeared in a southern newspaper, and which I beg leave to insert here.

The good people of Virginia may remember, that some time since this little cock-sparrow of a songster came hopping across the Atlantic, to sing his amours in the wilds of America. As we had seen nothing

of the kind so chirping and so light, he was much noticed and admired, and every one was delighted to hear the little bird chirrup his Greek. He could make rhymes on any and every little thing; a nose, an eye, a cheek, a curl, a lip, the tip of an ear, a little fly, a flea, or a gnat's toe-nail enchanted him. He looked like a being born in a jelly glass, handed round on a cake, fed on sugar plums, and educated among the dreams of fancy; the little spirit could hide himself under a lady's eye lash, and expire with delight; in his odes he gets into a million of scrapes, jumps from a tendril, hides in a curl, sips from a lip, perches on a bosom, tumbles from a tucker, gets on the edge of many a precipice without falling over, and to the mouth of dreadful caverns without tumbling in. Always singing, sighing, and evaporating, one would think he had a thousand souls charged from his electric fancy, each ready to fly without any other contact than the atmosphere only of a Dulcinea.

America, it seems, afforded this pretty fellow many of these visionary delights, and he had many opportunities of dying inexpressibly at Bermuda; but the little ingrate no sooner gets home than he begins to abuse us. In a note to his poems he says, "The women of Bermuda are not generally handsome, but they have an affectionate langour in their look which is interesting; they have a pre-disposition to loving, which, without being awakened by any particular object, diffuses itself through the general manner, in a tone that never fails to fascinate. The men of the island are not very civilized, and the old philosophers, who imagined that, after this life, men would be changed into mules, and women into turtle doves, would find metamorphosis in some degree anticipated at Bermuda!" of William and Mary college, that has produced so many men great in science, particularly in politics and oratory, he says, "This college gave me but a melancholy idea of republican seats of learning. The contempt for the ele

gancies of education is no where more grossly conspicuous than in Virginia. The levelling system is applied to education, and has all the effect which its partizans could desire, by producing a most extensive equality of ignorance." He then, in defiance of the bishop, rails at the morals too of the place. Of poor Norfolk, which is the threshold over which all travellers stumble, he says:

"Norfolk, it must be owned, is an unfortunate specimen of America. The characteristics of Virginia in general are not such as can delight either the politician or the moralist, and at Norfolk they are exhibited in their least attractive form. At the time that we arrived, the yellow fever had not then disappeared, and every odour that assailed us in the streets very strongly accounted for its visitation. It is in truth a most disagreeable place, and the best the journalist or geographer can say of it is, that it abounds in dogs, negroes, and in democrats." If there is no truth in these remarks of Moore, we ought to pity him instead of being angry with him-for he was so near to the ground that every odour assailed him with double effect, and he had such microscopic eyes, that he could see worms in the fairest face; but he could neither see any thing large, or write on any subject that required a capacious mental survey. He used to ask where were our poets? had we any? We had scarce a songster among us. He was afraid to look at that terrible Trumbull, with his "sword trenchant." Dwight's ode voice was too strong to whisper imbecilities to the flaxen ear locks of ideal beauty. Barlow would have rolled him in one corner of Manco Capae's white robe, to screen his frail form from the warring winds of the Andes; and Humphreys would have sent him sailing adrift in a little toy ship to sing songs to the fishes in the waters of his western world: but all these adventures, Moore, from the peculiar structure of his eyes, happily avoided, and he is still hastily

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