vanced, and their ambition excited to obtain essential qualities. It will not be difficult to lead from one point to another by the proper application of historical facts. When the royal pupil is struck with examples of the strong enthusiasm, which some monarchs have excited, it may be observed to him, that the sovereigns, who have possessed most power over the human heart, have generally been eloquent. There is no accomplishment more princely, more becoming, more useful to a monarch, than eloquence. Not studied oratory, but the power of expressing in strong words great ideas and noble feelings. Not only Henry the Fourth, but Francis the First, Queen Elizabeth, Lewis the Fourteenth, Frederick the Second, and the late Empress Catharine, possessed this laconic eloquence in a supreme degree. Even from a person unknown to fame one single expression of this sort is sufficient to give us a sublime idea of a character, and to dispose our minds to reverence, or enthusiastic attachment. Such is Sophia of Zell's answer to her husband, when, after having imprisoned her for years on a suspicion of infidelity, he besought her to return to him-"No," replied the princess, " tell my husband, that, if "the accusation be just, I am unworthy of him; if it be false, "he is unworthy of me."

Presence of mind is a quality, which a prince must possess, to give effect not only to his valour but even to his conduct. "Please your majesty, to whom are we to apply about busi"ness?" said his courtiers to Lewis the Fourteenth on his accession to the throne-" To myself," replied the monarch. Whoever desires to give the same answer, and to support it by actions, must acquire presence of mind, and that versatility

of attention, which can turn at the summons of the moment. from one set of objects or thoughts to others totally dissimilar. The means of acquiring civil and military presence of mind have been already suggested, and they must be the same for a prince as for subjects.

In these times, when fear of change perplexes monarchs, it should be part of a prince's education to study those symptoms, which mark the temper of the public mind. Prudence can be taught only by experience. The particular circumstances, which have preceded great changes in states, should be observed; but they must be cautiously examined before we can deduce from them any general or safe conclusion. In the political as in the physical world, it is impossible to distinguish efficient causes from accidental concomitants, without attention to repeated experiments. Attention to proximate and apparent, instead of to remote and real causes, leads to superstitious hope and fear, to cowardice and temerity. Frequently the circumstances immediately preceding public disturbances are considered as the origin of the evil; and hence futile precautions are adopted, and inadequate remedies are suggested. Persons uninstructed in politics sometimes reason as ill on public misfortunes, as those ignorant of medicine judge of diseases: an habitual drunkard attributes his loss of health to a single grape, which he felt cold on his stomach; and often the death of an infirm person is attributed to this or that cold caught by such or such a trivial accident. Thus some are persuaded, that all the horrours of the French revolution arose from Necker's coming into place, others from his leaving Paris; some attribute the whole to

the king's convening the States General, others are convinced that Madame de Polignac was the cause of the evil; the expensive traineaus of the queen and the count d'Artois some declare were more blamable. But every judicious observer must be sensible, that the real causes of the revolution lay much deeper, and were much more remote than the occurrence of such circumstances, or the interference of such persons. As to the assembling the States General, it might be an instructive lesson to a prince to observe the difference between the prudence in managing that assembly when it was convened in the time of Sully, and when it was called together by Necker. But, in fact, the government during the time of Lewis the Sixteenth was impelled by circumstances, over which it had at the moment no control. The accelerating causes of the French revolution may perhaps be found in the weakness and vacillation of preceding reigns: kings, sometimes abiding too rigidly by ancient custom and prerogative; sometimes yielding too suddenly and implicitly to innovation and reform; now giving the reins of government to Maurepas and Choiseul, now to Turgot and Malesherbes, then to Calonne, and from Calonne letting them be snatched by Necker: sometimes keeping the people in utter darkness, to tame them to docility; then letting in upon them the full blaze of philosophy, and " blasting with excess of "light." These, and similar errours in government, must be instructive lessons to a prince, and of much more practical utility than knowing by heart the Merovingian, or the Carlovingian, or the Capetian race, or the record of every petty fray in the wars between the houses of York and Lancaster. It is of the greatest importance for a prince in these times to

667

have his judgment so educated, that in emergencies he may be able promptly to decide when to admit innovation or reform, and when to maintain inviolate the ancient customs and institutions of his realm. The ivy sometimes defaces, and would destroy, the ancient oak; then let it be torn away. Sometimes it holds together the loose stones of a venerable and useful building; then guard it from sacrilegious hands.

It often happens, that a people is, from ancient usage, or national prepossession, vehemently attached to some slight distinction of dress or manners, which no prudent sovereign will attempt to abolish, or change by authority. This truth a preceptor may illustrate by many striking examples. It is well known, that the Tzar Peter, one of the most able and daring despots, after all the reformations he had effected in his empire, could never, by the most rigorous punishments, make his subjects part with their beards. Lewis the Fourteenth, in the zenith of his power, though perhaps not in the zenith of his gallantry, complained, that he could not change the female fashion of high heads. "J'ai beau crier; personne n'a pour "moi la complaisance de rabaisser un peu la sienne." In later days we know, that the Scotch Highlanders could not be prevailed upon to lay aside their Tartan plaid and filibeg.

* The Highlanders were obliged by law to lay aside their dress, immediately after the rebellion in 1745, so that not a man could be seen for several years in the ancient dress. The dress was afterwards allowed to the highland regiments, as an encouragement to enlist; and not many years ago the prohibitory laws were repealed. People now living have seen in the highlands the men walking on the road, carrying their breeches on their shoulders, as being an uneasy restraint, when they walked to any distance.

Who would hazard a rebellion, or the slightest portion of a nation's attachment, for such trifles? The politic, in this instance the insidious Catharine of Russia, was so well aware of these truths, that she not only made them the guide of her own conduct, but employed this knowledge to draw her rivals into difficulties. In a conversation with Gustavus III, she purposely piqued the vanity of that prince, by defying him, with all his power and influence over his subjects, to change the national dress of Sweden. He was weak enough to attempt it, made himself unpopular, and never succeeded farther, than forcing his courtiers to appear in a certain fantastic costume, which, after the king's assassination, fell into disuse.

A young prince should be farther led to observe the connexion between the numerous links of social order, that he may know what can be safely struck off, and what must be retained at all hazards. He should be able to judge of the distant probable consequences of civil or military alterations, as well as of their immediate effects. A partial improvement may lead to general injury; a custom indifferent in itself, or individually beneficial, may lead to important evil consequences; and trivial objects may form the best fence against danger. It is sufficient to suggest, that these objects of study should be preferred for the royal pupil; the means of obtaining such knowledge from books and conversation cannot be materially different from those already recommended for other professions. Thus early instructed by history and reason in the maxims of political wisdom, a prince, when called to the throne, would know when to resist popular phrensy, and