ously opposed to Bishop Taylor, if it were not forbidden, in the nineteenth century, to combine the defects of Taylor with his beauties.

LETTER XLVIII.

TO M. DUMONT.

THE eloquence of the bar, to which I now wish to call your attention, is connected with so many political questions, that I cannot do better than commence by a few considerations on the English constitution. I propose to devote several of my letters exclusively to the subject of public speaking, and I shall necessarily enter into details respecting the houses of parliament and popular meetings. Sincerely attached as I am to representative government, I shall endeavour not to suffer myself to be blind to the vices of that system, which a philosopher would be inclined to call the least bad, rather than the best. I shall, above all, avoid making a Utopia of the English government, like the host of writers who are justly reproached for having allowed themselves to be seduced by words, before having penetrated into the secret of things.

In England, time has happily consecrated two

invaluable privileges of the people, namely, the liberty of the press (which cannot here be capriciously suppressed by an ordinance,) and individual liberty. There is in England a routine of constitutional manners, if I may so express myself, which we want in France; but it is necessary to be on one's guard against that species of political quackery, which would tend to persuade the English people that they are as happy as they can be, and that they have a right to look upon the inhabitants of the other states of Europe, as mere flocks of slaves. Though our characteristic impatience occasionally incense us against power, we must not suffer our dignity to be insulted by the arrogance of foreigners. However, English writers, ministerial as well as political, occasionally let certain confessions escape them, which are calculated to render us better satisfied with our lot. It is curious to observe how our calumniators in the reviews sometimes refute themselves. I have also met with several candid Englishmen, whose conversation has afforded me an insight into the real state of their country. If the Quarterly and Edinburgh Reviews should do me the honour to take offence at these remarks, you will help me to prove that my arguments are at least founded on impartial authorities.*

I shall venture to refute a few chapters of the romance which Madame de Staël has attached to the

* The reader will perceive that this letter is merely a fragment. I have thrown into some of my subsequent letters, a few considerations on English patriotism and political reform

sequel of her work on the French revolution; though it will, of course, be difficult to shake the authority of a writer of such distinguished talent. When Madame de Staël set foot on British ground, she thought she was breathing the air of freedom for the first time. She was relieved from the imperial persecutions, of which she had been for ten years the victim. She was a wandering princess, happy to find the barrier of the sea between her and the giant, who, with one stride, could move from Paris to Moscow. Grateful for the first asylum that received her, Corinne suffered herself to be too easily misled by the parade of patriotism and morality, which was set up by the political and religious hypocrites of the three kingdoms. Her brilliant imagination poetically personified England under the form of St. George, mounted on his war horse, for the deliverance of Europe. John Bull paid back this compliment with interest; for he was flattered by the idea of the chivalrous devotedness which our celebrated countrywoman attributed to him, just as a vain shopkeeper might be supposed to listen with complacency to the praises of a lady of rank, who should condescend to tell him he had the air of a gentleman. I am far from wishing to retract the admiration which I have uniformly professed for Madame de Staël, both as a writer and a politician; and in spite of all the extravagant things she has said about Wellington and England, I revere her for having, at least, expressed a hope that France will one day enjoy constitutional liberty. The hopes of genius

often prove to be happy predictions. Madame de Staël has not blasphemed like those who affirm, that public spirit and patriotism exist only in the country which produced Pitt and Fox. People are, of course, suspected when they praise themselves; but I have lately read an article in the Quarterly Review for January 1817, in which it is positively affirmed that the French are infinitely more distinguished for patriotism than the English, and that the latter have really less national spirit than any nation in the world. If we accept only one half of the praise which the writer is pleased to bestow on us, it will be found to be sufficiently flattering.

LETTER XLIX.

TO M. ALBIN HOSTALIER.

It is important to study, not only the spirit of the English constitution, but also the origin and present application of all the laws which directly relate to individuals and property. Political liberty is not sufficient to constitute the happiness of a nation; there must also be civil equality, that is to say, a code of laws regulating the mutual rights of the citizens, as the constitution establishes the

reciprocal duties of governments and subjects. The laws of England are divided into comm.on law and statute law. The former consists of the laws of custom and tradition, some of which were collected by Alfred and Edward the Confessor, and the latter includes the statutes, or acts of parliament. I should have acquired the knowledge necessary for analyzing some of the principal provisions of the English code, if, indeed, it can be called a code, but that I was afraid to involve myself in the first windings of the immense labyrinth. The knowledge of English law may be compared to the knowledge of the Chinese language, with which the mandarins themselves are never perfectly acquainted. While looking over Blackstone's Commentaries, in order to obtain an idea of the hierarchy of the magistracy and its prerogatives, the rights of persons and things, crimes and punishments, civil courts, criminal courts, &c., I involuntarily turned to Blackstone's poetry, for that celebrated judge was a lover of the muses, and he bade them a poetic adieu when he set foot on the threshold of the temple of chicanery. In the system of English legislature, there is a principle of democracy, which may be traced back to the primitive laws of the gothic nations. The trial by jury, in which Britain so highly prides herself, is found in the judicial ordeals of the Visigoths of Spain, a fact which is explained by the common origin of the conquerors of the peninsula and England. But the democratic principle is everywhere neutralized by the numerous