general equilibrium; and the ablest living writer on these matters has almost fallen into the same mistake. Gentz has argued, as if the chief object of general policy were to preserve certain great states, and consolidate smaller communities into large empires, forgetting that the balance of power has no meaning, unless it be applied to all existing states, and that the universal monarchy of one nation is only to be dread ed, as causing the general ruin of those which enjoy present independence. To the same illusion Henry's plan must have looked for a favourable reception with the bulk of mankind, and with those powers to whom it might be simply proposed, without the offer of new dominions, which generally accompanied the disclosure. To persuade a few neighbouring princes that their independence was the great end of all foreign policy; that, provided they flourished in freedom, it mattered not how little regard was paid to other potentates; that the cause of Europe meant their interests; was a doctrine which less skill and cloquence than the president's and the duke's might easily have enforced. But other means, in fact, were used to secure the active co-operation for which those general topics served as the pretexts.

The parties to whom he confided the scheme, were, the pope, the Venetian and Swiss republics, the duke of Savoy, the electors of Mentz, Cologne, Bavaria, and the elector Palatine; the nobles of Hungary and Bohemia, certain free towns, and others. The pope was to receive a whole kingdom (Naples) in real Sovereignty, with the nominal supremacy of all Italy, and a place among the electors-general; not to mention the opportunity of persecuting infidels and sectaries.

Venice was to receive Sicily: certainly the richest present with which the masters of the Adriatic could be bribed. No wonder that no pains were taken to acquaint the king of Sicily and Naples with these proceedings, which interested him as

much as the pope and Venice. He was to fall under the ban of the new christian republic; the secret was to be imparted by heralds, and put home to him by lances. The duke of Savoy, too, was safely apprised of a project which was to give him a rich crown, and exalt him from the lowest to the highest rank among the princes of Europe. It is not recorded that he made any objections to the plan; no doubt he was per. suaded of its excellent tendency to secure the peace of the world, and never hinted the propriety of disclosing the scheme to the rightful owners of the realms which he was to receive. The Hungarian and Bohemian nobles, who formed a feudal and factious aristocracy, naturally preferred any change which destroy ed the present hereditary dynasty, and gave each of them a chance for a crown. All who were to be benefited by the project were made privy to it, and zealously engaged to assist in the execution. Those who were to be ruined by the scheme were spared the pain of knowing its existence; and those who were only remotely affected had not time to give their full attention to the subject, before its author was numbered with the victims of the scheme so happily accomplished on St. Bartholomew's day.

That a prince of Henry's plain good sense and intimate acquaintance with affairs should have formed the design of giving perpetual peace to the world by means infinitely more chimerical than ever entered the head of a cloistered enthusiast, might indeed excite our wonder. But there is nothing very surprising, that an ambitious and patriotic monarch, flushed with domestic conquest, should resolve to fo ment divisions among his foreign enemies, and raise such a party in his own favour as might spare the armies of France, while it raised her to the highest pitch of influence. Under pretence of giving peace to Europe, a pretence addressed not to his coadjutors whom he was bribing with spoil, but to the world at large

libel, a pasquinade, an impertinent sally of plebeian wit. A grave chronicler, as dry as dry can be, relates this little circumstance in their characters as a matter of course. Post Dagabertum, regnavit Daniel, clericus insensatus, frater ejus; post Chilpericum, regem insensatum, regnavit, solo nomine, Hendericus insensatus, consanguineus ejus; post Hendericum, regnavit, solo nomine, Childericus insensatus, frater ejus. In English, thus: "After Dagabert came Daniel, a fool of a priest, his brother; after Chilperick a foolish king, reigned his kinsman, Henderick, the silly; after Henderick, reigned his brother, Childerick, the fool. All these were mere pageants of royalty, governing only in name." It has been suggested by some of the learned, that, from the constant conjunction of long hair and foily in these Gallic potentates, mankind have, as usual, inferred the relation of cause and effect to have subsisted between them, and assuming, rather illogically, the converse of the proposition to be true, have rivetted in their minds that association of wigs and wisdom which has so greatly redounded to the glory and profit of modern doctors and perukemakers.

Like the corresponding history of England during the heptarchy, the annals of these princes are ineffably wearisome and uninstructive. Whether the Offas and the Pendas, the Chilpericks and the Dagaberts, had a vice more or less, we have as little solicitude to inquire, as about any question which the busy dæmon of controversy can possibly suggest. The sublime porte does not trouble itself, said the reis effendi to an ambassador, who communicated a victory of his master's, whether the dog beats the hog, or the hog beats the dog. We care as little, whether in any one given year during an age of anarchy a greater number was slain in one horde of barbarians or another. These are the ups and downs of savage warfare, which are occasionally varied by the fluctus decumani, the grand

revolutions, by which the fate of nations has been affected.

In one instance, perhaps, a marf may excusably wish to look a little into the annals of this period. Brunehaut was queen of Austrasia and Burgundy, and rival of the no less notorious Fredegonde, who, in the year 613, was dragged at the tail of a vicious horse, for the amusement of a humane conqueror and his polished camp. Concerning this princess the antiquaries and historians of France have been debating for some centuries, the greater part maintaining her to have been a monster of guilt, while some espouse her defence with as much zeal as was felt by the three hundred gallant Franks, who swore, that a child, of which Fredegonde had been delivered, was the actual offspring of her husband. Yet when we recollect, that some great philosophers have declared, that the dispute about the guilt of the Scottish Mary, connected as it is with so many illustrious characters, heightened by so many associations of sentiment and romantic circumstance, and embellished by such ingenuity and eloquence, has excited no curiosity in their breasts, one is half ashamed to express any curiosity about so obsolete and remote a personage as Brunehaut.

For the Literary Magazine.

ANECDOTE OF STERNE.

DUTENS, in his Memoirs, lately published, relates the following anecdote of Sterne, which throws additional light on that eccentric and faulty character.

Nous étions au tems de l'anniversaire de la naissance du roi d'Angleterre: milord Tavistock invita, ce jourlà, le peu d'Anglais qui étaient à Paris, á dîner avec lui pour le célébrer. Je fus de la partie, où je ne trouvai de ma connaissance que ceux avec qui j'étais venu à Paris. Je fus assis entre milord Berkeley, qui allait à Turin, et le fameux Sterne, auteur de Tristram Shandy,

those sick in that disorder, in the same village, under the same roofs, nay, in the same chambers with them, having passed what can scarcely be termed a disease, without pain to themselves, or trouble to their friends, without attention to diet or regimen, and-what may be thought still better-without physic!"

For the Literary Magazine.

ARE THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS

USEFUL?

THE usefulness of theatres is a question that has often been discussed, but, perhaps, never in a manner perfectly satisfactory. Subjects of this kind are very complex, and the foundation of our reasonings lies much deeper than is commonly supposed. The question may be stated in the compass of a page, but could not be thoroughly discussed in less than a volume.

Three things are necessary to a theatrical exhibition; a drama, actors, and auditors.

We may consider the drama as it is in itself; we may analyze this mode of composition, and determine its power and efficacy as an instrument of morals; we may inquire what the dramatic art is capable of doing.

But this art has already been employed to some purpose, good or bad. Dramas having been written in considerable numbers, it is a momentous question what the tendency of these identical dramas is, and whether they inculcate falsehood or truth. In order to this, an accurate acquaintance with dramatic authors is necessary to this we must add a knowledge of the actual history of mankind, and an investigation of the influence which certain plays have actually had upon human manners.

Plays may be written and read, but not exhibited. Whatever influence theatrical exhibitions may have, the tenor of the piece performed must have some share in produ

cing it. On this question we are not concerned to ask, merely, what influence plays may have on the writer or reader, but what is the share of influence they possess in a public exhibition.

The tragedy of Cato has been performed a certain number of times: so have "The Jealous Husband," and "A Trip to the Jubilee." Certain effects have been produced, and numerous causes have each borne a part in producing these effects. One of these causes is the nature of the scene exhibited. What consequences have flowed from the peculiar structure of these three dramas? A question not easily solved. To this influence, whatever it be, there are two kinds of persons subject, actors and auditors; and, in weighing this influence, a just attention must be paid to this distinction.

Plays have been very numerous. This circumstance, among others, obliges managers to make a selection from them. Different managers, or the same managers at different periods, may make different selections. In order to arrive at a useful or exact decision, therefore, it behoves us to confine our inquiries to some particular period or place. If the tendency of all plays be the same or similar, differing from each other not at all, or differing only in degree, this nicety will be superfluous; but if the tendency of different plays be opposite, a theatrical exhibition, so far as its influence is modified by the nature of the scene, may, under different managers, produce opposite effects.

This is only one among three points of view, in which the subject ought to be considered. It is not, perhaps, of chief, but it is of indispensable importance. It cannot be denied that the influence of theatrical exhibitions is, in part, to be ascribed to the texture of the pieces performed. But it would not be proper to suppose that other circumstances have not their share of influence, be it greater or less.

Acting being a trade, it is to be inquired, first, what influence this