thrown in. All the bones were found. Their position shewed that the body had been carelessly thrown in. It was lying rather on the face, with the head downwards, the left leg and arm bent under the body, and the right leg extended and the right arm elevated. It had been stated, by the labourer, before the search began, that the body had not been rifled; and in consequence of this information, the Chevalier Jacques-(who had been aide-de-camp to the prince and accompanied him to Strasburg, but had been then separated from him and brought to Paris alone, where he suffered a long and rigorous imprisonment) -declared what the Duke had about him when they parted, and what of course ought to be found in the grave; and it is impossible to describe the deep interest, the solemn impatience in which the commissiouers, who stood around the trench, awaited each successive report of the surgeons who stood in it, and who examined every thing as the earth was turned up.

They found about the middle of the skeleton a mass of metallic matter, of the size of a watch, but so decayed, that but for some small iron keys and a seal with the arms of Condé which adhered to it, it would have been hardly recognized; the seal was perfect. A small red morocco purse with eleven pieces of gold and five pieces of silver. Seventy pieces of gold coin, the contents of a rouleau which M. Jacques had handed to him at the moment of their separation-the fragments of the seal of red wax on the ends of the rouleau were found, which bore the impression of the seal of M. Jacques. A ring and chain of gold, which M. Jacques declared the prince always wore about his neck, and which was found around the vertebral bones of the neck. short, no doubt remained that the remains were those of the Duke d'Enghien-they were accordingly placed in a coffin, and deposited, with the usual ceremonies of religion, in the chapel of the castle of Vincennes.

In

Thus concludes the history of this bloody tragedy-the excuses for the perpetration of which only shew us that Buonaparte's impudence is equal to his cruelty. The whole charge against the Duke was, that he was in league with England in a conspiracy against Buonaparte ;—if it had been true, Buonaparte had no right to violate treaties and the laws of nations to seize him he had no right to try him before a packed court, chosen by Murat to condemn him without a single witness being heard against him and to execute him in the depth of night, with no other light to guide the executioners than a lantern fastened to his button-hole. But the alleged fact is altogether false. It is well known that England had no hand in the French conspiracies against him, it is equally well known, that the Duke d'Enghien was wholly uncon

nected

nected with, and ignorant of, them; and Buonaparte even makes it a ground of imputation against the Count d'Artois, that when he was about to execute his plot he did not apprize his cousin the Duke d'Enghien, in order that he might have retired to a place of safety...

Even those who wished to maintain that he was not privy to the conspiracy, have agreed, that his death was to be attributed to the Count d'Artois, (in fact the latter was frequently reproached by the unfortunate Prince's father, the Duc de Bourbon, as having been so,) who, at the moment whilst he was planning the overturning of the republic and the assassination of the first magistrate of the republic, left a prince of his blood in the power of that very magistrate.'-pp. 143, 144.

This admission is altogether at variance with the supposition that the Duke was aware of the plot--besides, the motives of the Duke's residence at Ettenhein on an estate given to him by the Cardinal de Rohan, repel the calumny of his having fixed himself there for political purposes; but again we say, if he had had political objects, Buonaparte's cruelty and violence, though apparently less wanton, would not have been less atrocious.

We have reserved for the last place, a circumstance which marks, in the most unanswerable manner, the infamy of this murderCaulaincourt himself is ashamed of it, and has published a defence, in which, as it was impossible to deny that he had gone at that particular moment to Offenbourg, he strove to prove, poor immocent! that he was not entrusted with the secret.

We are heart-sick at the relation of such repeated horrorsand can write no more. We shall only say that we have this moment heard that the Pole Piontkowski and an Englishman well known in London have fabricated this work between them. Piontkowski may have been (though we do not believe it) the channel by which the materials were conveyed to England; but he is utterly incapable of furnishing them himself-he never spoke to Buonaparte more than once in his life, and that once is doubtfulhe was not even admitted to the company of the attendants at St. Helena-while there is hardly a page of the Letters which does not convince us that they are made up from Buonaparte's own writings or conversations.

Who the translator or editor is can be of no importancewhether some person at the Cape, whom Las Cases may have had an opportunity of employing; or some one in England, to whom the manuscript may have been secretly transmitted; but we rather incline to the latter opinion.-Indeed we have heard one person named as editor, of whom, fallen as he is, we cannot a credit such an imputation, We hope, nay, notwithstanding all -noban ylloda 24 mmea i b boloon

MM 4

that

that has passed, we believe, that the person alluded to is incapable of lending himself to the palliation of crimes which he himself first and most forcibly denounced to Europe-and we cannot but concur with Sir Robert Wilson in the hope so emphatically expressed by him in his excellent work on Egypt, that in no country will there be found another man of such Machiavelian principles as by SOPHISTRY to pulliate these transactions--frightful crimes! which equal any that have blackened the page of history. pp. 76. 78.

ART. X.-1. Des Colonies et de l'Amérique. Paris. 1816. Far M. de Pradt. 2 vol.

2. Des trois derniers Mois d'Amérique.

Par M. de Pradt. Paris.

1817.

Ancien Archevêque de Malines, &c. &c. 3. Outline of the Revolution in Spanish America. By a South American. London. 1817.

THE attention of this country for the last twenty years has been

occupied by events so near in their interest, and so rapid in their succession, that objects at a distance from the sphere of immediate action appear to have lost their due magnitude and proportion. Every political change not directly affecting the contest in Europe passed away as an obscure underplot in the great drama, of which the catastrophe was still in suspense. The scanty portion of public discussion, which had, until recently, been bestowed on the events which have taken place in the Spanish American colonies, presents a striking illustration of this remark.

From the days of old Montaigne to those of Montesquieu, a revolution in South America had been the speculation of successive" philosophers, the favourite vision of enthusiasts, the hope and object even of practical statesmen. To exaggerate its importance would wor be difficult, if we take as the measure of that importance its necessary influence on the condition and happiness of a large portion of mankind—still more, if we take into account its remoter conse quences, and the close connection of the destiny of America with that of Europe, and more especially of England. No wonder then that this subject should have excited a greater degree of interest, since the return of peace, in this, as well as in other countries.n

The publications of which the titles are prefixed to this Article, afford us the opportunity to contribute our humble endeavours to illustrate the nature of a revolution so interesting in its character; and so complicated in its operations; and to consider what may be the course of political conduct in respect to it,>>which it best› suits the character and the fair interests of England to observe. A TAS

It seems quite evident that this revolution is not the effect of partial intrigue, or of a temporary and casual burst of discontent; but that, proceeding from causes, in their nature radical, and certain, though gradual in their operation, it has extended itself, without previous concert, over the whole of that vast continent, has survived the trials of defeat, and of civil dissensions, and, in all human probability, can terminate only in one of the following results: either in the independence of the colonists-or, in such an alteration in the system of the Spanish government, as may induce them to acquiesce in the future supremacy of the mother-country. That their absolute and unconditional subjugation is far beyond the power of Spain, can hardly be doubted by any one who considers the present condition of that country, and compares the strength, the resources and the conduct of the contending parties. What ever may be the comparative probability of the two results which we have stated, it unquestionably becomes this country to adopt and to sustain a steady line of policy, consistent with national honour, and not to be warped either by sordid views of interest, or by any vague notions of undiscriminating philanthropy.

The mere recital of the names that distinguish the Spanish colo nies in America, the vast extent of their mountains, their rivers and forests, and their real or fabulous riches have in all ages captivated the imaginations of men, and inflamed the spirit of adventure. This impression has been rendered more forcible by the consideration, that rich as these favoured regions are, in the productions of every climate, and possessing all the natural facilities of internal traffic, and of foreign commerce, they have been depressed by a system of government, not more harassing to the governed, than inefficient for its own narrow purposes. It would have been no creditable symptom of the state of public feeling in England if it had been altogether unmoved on a question forcibly applying itself to so many just sentiments and lofty prejudices, nay, if its tendency had not been rather favourable than otherwise to the cause of the Americans.-But on the other hand, when it is taken into account how prone to change is the genius of the present age, and how fearful are the untried chances of a struggle which shakes society to its foundations through a continent of unexplored extent, and involves millions of all ranks, habits, colours, and conditions, in a bloody, desultory, and apparently interminable warfare, we may well rejoice that the government of this country has not suffered itself to be so far infected by the feeling of the public as to foment a contest of such a character by any assistance or encouragement. In arguing, therefore, for the advantages of a strict neutrality, we must enter an early protest against any imputations of hostility to the cause of,

genuine

genuine freedom, or of any passion for despotism and the Inquisition. We are no more the panegyrists of legitimate authority in all times, circumstances, and situations, than we are the advocates of revolution in the abstract. We should regret that the colonists were subdued before they have secured to themselves a change of system-the admission of the descendants of Spaniards, natives of America, into offices of the state and of judicature-the removal of absurd and oppressive restrictions on their industry, their trade, and their private enjoyments.-Ir these concessions had been spontaneously offered by the mother-country at an earlier period of the war, and guaranteed by England, they would probably have conciliated the colonies, exhausted, as they were, by the severe and to them unknown calamities of war, and disgusted and discouraged by the misconduct of their leaders. If these concessions should be extorted from Spain, as the price of future submission, to Spain herself they will be productive of equal or even of greater benefits, than to the colonies.

But the time for concession is rapidly passing away, and if it be allowed to pass, Spain may expect to solve the problem proposed by many of her most intelligent writers, whether the separation of the American continent from her dominion will ultimately impair or ensure her welfare.-It would be as rational for the Pope to issue his bull in the nineteenth century, granting certain degrees of the Pacific to the Republic of San Marino, as it is for Spain to attempt in the government of her colonies to adhere to the maxims of the sixteenth century. The system could not resist the force of public opinion, though a Charles were on her throne, and though her armies were commanded by a Pizarro or an Alva. To persevere in force, unaided, is to miscalculate her own resources, even to infatuation. To expect the aid of an ally in such a cause, would, if that ally were England, be to suppose this country as forgetful of its own past history as of its immediate interests and duties. Far better would it be for Spain, instead of calling for our aid, to profit by our experience; and to substitute, ere it be too late, for efforts like those by which the North American colonies were lost to this country, the conciliating measures by which they might have been retained.

But it must be confessed, perhaps, that there is no problem in politics more difficult than the treatment of colonies. To watch and nurse their youth, and to mark the hour of their maturity to know on what occasions to enforce, and when to relax, the strictness of parental superintendence-when to require unconditional obedience, and how to yield to supplication or remonstrance Ut premere, ut laxas sciret dare jussus habenas are among the

most