army had been poisoned. A committee of chemists was summoned: they analyzed the brandies, and convinced the public that no treachery had been practised. Their utility, and above all their firmness on this occasion, suddenly raised their political credit, and they were soon called upon for more important services. The armies of France were at that time in want both of gunpowder and arms. There was an imperious necessity for seventeen million pounds of gunpowder, and no foreign saltpetre to be had! An order was sent to the chemists: one of them had the boldness to answer, "Five days after the saltpetre shall be extracted from the "earth in which it is contained, it shall charge your can"nons." This boast was fulfilled; and in twelve hours, gunpowder was made ready for use.

d Berthollet's noble answer on this occasion should not be forgotten. A messenger came breathless to the committee of public safety, with the information that the armies were ready to engage, but that the generals dared not lead them to the attack without brandy; and dared not give them brandy because it was poisoned; for some of the sick in the hospitals had drank of it, and had died. Some of this brandy was sent to a committee of chemists, who were ordered to analyze it, and to make their report. They knew that Robespierre wished to have it proved, or believed, that there was a plot and poison; but they drew up and signed a report, stating the simple truth, that there was nothing added to the brandy but water, in which small particles of slate were in suspension, and that by filtration it might be purified and drank with safety. Robespierre, who presided at the committee of public safety when the chemists brought in their report, asked them, in a fierce tone, if they were sure of what they asserted. Berthollet immediately filtrated some of the brandy in the presence of the assembly, and drank it. All the other chemists followed his example." How!" said Robespierre, "dare you drink of that poisoned liquor?"

"I dared much more," replied Berthollet, "when I signed my name to the "report which I delivered to you."

Arms for nine hundred thousand men were wanting; brass and steel could not be procured from foreign countries; the art of manufacturing steel was known to few except to chemists, and they were again employed to direct the manufacturers, and were again successful. Their credit was now established with the people, and of course, they seized a great share of political power. The want of other men of science was soon felt; maps, and charts, and plans of fortification were called for: the corps of geographical engineers was reestablished; naval and military engineers must be employed. Many of these men of science combining, seized the moment when facts spoke so loudly and incontrovertibly to the nation in their favour, and they insisted upon the necessity of establishing a national system of education, and they had grants of money, and power to do what they pleased. There were many errors in their first plans; some thought of providing appointments for their friends as professors; some produced vast and seemingly admirable schemes, which failed precisely because they were vast, because they were disproportioned to the wants and wishes of the people. Such were the central schools. The magnificent edifices, the convents, monasteries, palaces, which were converted into central schools, with immense public libraries, botanic gardens, and museums of natural history, soon had the melancholy appearance of deserted grandeur.

The learned professors were seen walking up and down the desolate and cold halls and libraries, unable to fulfil the purposes of their appointment; few scholars appeared, and those few were not prepared by previous elementary instruc

tion to profit by their lessons. The failure of these central schools has been ascribed by many of the late French writers to the want of intermediate seminaries for the early ages of youth: but, in fact, many circumstances contributed to this disappointment. The plans were on too extensive a scale; many local circumstances had not been considered; the effects of time and habit had not been taken into account.

Small difficulties in the execution of these great projects arose; then in the hurry of the moment successive alterations were suggested, and these continual changes were more pernicious than many of the habitual errors of the ancient routine. Of this the most sensible men in the nation were fully aware. But political parties, as well as the errors of projectors, continued these changes. One moment large sums were granted to lay the foundation of some new establishment; the next, the funds were withdrawn, the professors left without salaries, forgotten, or proscribed. Central schools, Lyceums, academies, institutes, all appeared and vanished with transient splendour. Les écoles normales have, indeed, left a durable and useful monument of their existence; and it must for ever be regretted, that political animosities destroyed and discredited such a combination of the most solid and brilliant talents. No one can read the Journals of the Normal

The author here speaks of what he saw in the year 1802, when he travelled through the Low Countries, and visited les Ecoles Centrales. During a residence of several months at Paris, in 1802 and 3, he had opportunities of obtaining information, from the best authorities, of the state of education in that kingdom.

F

School', without admiring the knowledge and abilities of the lectures, and the skill and patience, with which the best means of teaching are investigated.

At length, under the auspices of Monge, Haüy, Hassenfraetz, la Place, la Grange, Fourcroy, Chaptal, Prony, and others, schools of science were established. Taught by the failure of their predecessors, and aware of the extreme mutability of public opinion, the founders of these schools proceeded with slow but certain steps. They tried their vast system at first for a fixed period, and upon a limited scale: they determined to convince themselves and the publick, what could be done in three months by their modes of instruction. They classed their 1300 pupils: different professors took charge of them in their respective sciences, and in three months was performed the work of three years. The progress, the actual acquirements of the pupils surpassed all expectation. After this experiment, both the government and the publick expressed just confidence in the means employed by the professors, and the Ecole Polytechnique was permanently established. It became the central point of all the education of France. These examples may show, that improvements in education, which have been cautiously made after trials of a reasonable time, have succeeded; while those which have been rashly attempted by theorists, and speculative men of the most enlightened genius, and the best inten

* In ten volumes 8vo. published at Paris, ann. X.

All men of great talents, but not equals in character or virtue.

tions, have either failed at once, or have been gradually abandoned.

Without regard to the political animosities of the times, a writer on education should steadily endeavour to lay before the publick whatever may be permanently useful. Fas est et ab hoste doceri! The example of France may be advantageous to this country, by many of her successful and unsuccessful experiments in education. For instance, at present there is in our own country a strong party for and against the learned languages. Both appear to have gone into extremes. In France the spirit of conquest led to utter neglect of all studies, which were not connected with military success. Mathematics, geometry, fortification, engineering, and all the sciences that could be useful in war, are taught admirably well in l'Ecole Polytechnique and other public establishments; but literature was so much neglected, that some of their ablest pupils could not write, or even spell with propriety. The study of the learned languages was absolutely discouraged; and if a few of the elegant scholars of former times, such as Suard, Morellet, la Harpe, and Delille, had not fortunately remained to support the cause of classical literature, ancient learning would perhaps have been neglected, the French language itself corrupted, and the literary taste of the nation utterly depraved. The French were right in preventing military youths, and pupils destined for certain other professions, from wasting their time in acquiring the learned languages, which could be of little use in their peculiar pursuits; but it was rash and absurd to discourage altogether the study of the fine models of ancient excellence.