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please,' was the reply, 'I pray for him and for all variety of words and phrases rather more men.' He now spoke to the executioner, desiring homely and familiar than should find place that he might have no cap over his eyes, and began in a grave composition. Thus, it is said in undressing. One would have thought that in this tast sad ceremony, the poor prisoner might have p. 12, that "the King made no point of adherbeen unmolested, and that the divines would have ing to his concessions." In p. 20, we heas been satisfied, that prayer was the only part of their of men, "swearing away the lives" of their

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function for which their duty now called upon them. They judged differently; and one of them had the fortitude to request the Duke, even in this stage of the business, that he would address himself to the soldiers then present, to tell them he stood a sad example of rebellion, and entreat the people to be loyal and obedient to the King. I have said will make no speeches,' repeated Monmouth, in tone more peremptory than he had before been provoked to; 'I will make no speeches! I come to die. My lord, ten words will be enough, said the persevering divine; to which the Duke made no answer, but turning to the executioner, expressed a hope that he would do his work better

now than in the case of Lord Russell. He then

felt the axe, which he apprehended was not sharp enough, but being assured that it was of proper sharpness and weight, he laid down his head. In the mean time, many fervent ejaculations were used by the reverend assistants, who, it must be observed, even in these moments of horror, showed themselves not unmindful of the points upon which they had been disputing; praying God to accept his imperfect and general repentance.

The executioner now struck the blow; but so feebly or unskillfully, that Monmouth, being but slightly wounded, lifted up his head, and looked him in the face as if to upbraid him; but said nothing. The two following strokes were as ineffectual

accomplices; and are afterwards told of "the style "the cry

of thinking" of the country-of ing injustice" of certain proceedings and of persons who were "fond of ill-treating and insulting" other persons. These, we think, are phrases too colloquial for regular history, and which the author has probably been induced to admit into this composition, from his long familiarity with spoken, rather than with written language. What is merely lively and natural in a speech, however, will often appear low and vapid in writing. The following is a still more striking illustration. In speaking of the Oxford Decree, which declared the doctrine of an original contract, the lawfulness of changing the succession, &c. to be impious as well as seditious, and leading to atheism as well as rebellion, Mr. Fox is pleased to observe "If Much Ado about Nothing had been published in those days, the town-clerk's declaration, that receiving a thousand ducats for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully, was "flat burglary," might be supposed to be a satire upon this decree; yet Shakespeare, well as he knew human nature, not only as

as the first, and the headsman, in a fit of horror, declared he could not finish his work. The sheriffs to its general course, but in all its eccentric threatened him; he was forced again to make a deviations, could never dream that, in the

further trial; and in two more strokes separated the head from the body."-pp. 267-269.

With the character of Monmouth, the second chapter of the history closes; and nothing seems to have been written for the third, but a few detached observations, occupying but two pages. The Appendix is rather longer than was necessary. The greater part of the diplomacy which it contains, had been previously published by Macpherson and Dalrymple; and the other articles are of little importance.

person of Dogberry, Verges, and their followers, he was representing the vice-chancellors and doctors of our learned University." It would require all the credit of a well-established speaker, to have passed this comparison, with any success, upon the House of Commons; but even the high name of Mr. Fox, we believe, will be insufficient to conceal its impropriety in a serious passage of a written in imitation of Li Livy and Thucydides.

Occupied, indeed, as we conceive all the readers of Mr. Fox ought to be with the sentiments and the facts which he lays before them, we should scarcely have thought of noticing those verbal blemishes at all, had we not read so much in the preface, of the fastidious diligence with which the diction of this work was purified, and its style elaborated by the author. To this praise we cannot say we think it entitled; but, to praise of

We have now only to add a few words as to the style and taste of composition which belongs to this work. We cannot say that we vehemently admire it. It is a diffuse, and somewhat heavy style,-clear and manly, indeed, for the most part, but sometimes deticient in force, and almost always in vivacity. In its general structure, it resembles the style of the age of which it treats, more than the balanced periods of the succeeding a far higher description, its its claim, we think,

century-though the diction is scrupulously purified from the long and Latin words which defaced the compositions of Milton and Harrington. In his antipathy to every thing that might be supposed to look like pedantry or affected loftiness, it appears to us, indeed, that the illustrious author has sometimes fallen into an opposite error, and admitted a

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is indisputable. Independent of its singular value as a memorial of the virtues and talents of the great statesman whose name it bears we have no hesitation in saying, that it is written more truly in the spirit of constitutional freedom, and of temperate and practical patriotism, than any history of which the public is yet in possession.

(April, 1805.)

Mémoires d'un Temoin de la Révolution; ou Journal des faits qui se sont passé sous ses yeux, et qui ont preparé et fixé la Constitution Française. Ouvrage Posthume de JEAN SYLVAIN BAILLY, Premier Président de l'Assemblée Nationale Constituant, Premier Maire de Paris, et Membre des Trois Académies. 8vo. 3 tomes. Paris: 1804.*

AMONG the many evils which the French characters of those who were connected with Revolution has inflicted on mankind, the most those memorable occurrences. The tide of deplorable, perhaps, both in point of extent popular favour, which ran at one time with a and of probable duration, consists in the in- dangerous and headlong violence to the side jury which it has done to the cause of rational of innovation and political experiment, has freedom, and the discredit in which it has in- now set, perhaps too strongly, in an opposite volved the principles of political philosophy. direction; and the same misguiding passions

The warnings which may be derived from the misfortunes of that country, and the lessons which may still be read in the tragical consequences of her temerity, are memorable, no doubt, and important: But they are such as are presented to us by the history of every period of the world; and the emotions by which they have been impressed, are in this case too violent to let their import import and application be properly distinguished. From the miscarriage of a scheme of frantic innovation, we have conceived an unreasonable and undiscriminating dread of all alteration or reform. The bad success of an attempt to make government perfect, has reconciled us to imperfections that might easily be removed; and the miserable consequences of treating every thing as prejudice and injustice, which could not be reconciled to a system of fantastic equality, has given strength to prejudices, and sanction to abuses, which were gradually wearing away before the progress of reason and philosophy. The French Revolution, in short, has thrown us back half a century in the course of political improvement; and driven many among us to cling once more, with superstitious terror, to those idols from which we had been nearly reclaimed by the lessons of a milder philosophy. When we look round on the wreck and ruin which the whirlwind has scattered over the prospect before us, we tremble at the rising gale, and shrink even from the wholesome air that stirs the fig-leaf on our porch. Terrified and disgusted with the brawls and midnight murders which proceed from intoxication, we are almost inclined to deny ourselves the pleasures of a generous hospitality; and scarcely venture to diffuse the comforts of light or of warmth In our dwellings, when we turn our eyes on the devastation which the flames have committed around us.

The same circumstances which have thus led us to confound what is salutary with what is pernicious in our establishments, have also perverted our judgments as to the

"I have been tempted to let this be reprinted though sensible enough of vices in the style) show at how early a period those views of the character of the French Revolution, and its first effects on other countries, were adopted-which have not since received much modification.

that placed factious and selfish men on a level with patriots and heroes, has now ranked the blameless and the enlightened in the herd of murderers and madmen.

There are two classes of men, in particular, to whom it appears to us that the Revolution has thus done injustice; and who have been made to share in some measure the infamy of its most detestable agents, in consequence of venial errors, and in spite of extraordinary merits. There are none indeed who made a figure in its more advanced stages, that may not be left, without any great breach of charity, to the vengeance of public opinion: and both the descriptions of persons to whom we have alluded only existed, accordingly, at the period of its commencement. These were the philosophers or speculative men who inculcated a love of liberty and a desire of reform by their writings and conversation; and the virtuous and moderate, who attempted to act upon these principles at the outset of the Revolution, and countenanced or suggested those measures by which the ancient frame of the government was eventually dissolved. To confound either of these classes of men with the monsters by whom they were succeeded, it would be necessary to forget that they were in reality their most strenuous opponents and their earliest victims! If they were instrumental in conjuring up the tem pest, we may at least presume that their cooperation was granted in ignorance, since they were the first to fall before it; and can scarcely be supposed to have either foreseen or intended those consequences in which their own ruin was so inevitably involved. That they are chargeable with imprudence and with presumption, may be affirmed, per. haps, without fear of contradiction; though, with regard to many of them, it would be no easy task, perhaps, to point out by what conduct they could have avoided such an imputation; and this charge, it is manifest, ought at any rate to be kept carefully separate from that of guilt or atrocity. Benevolent inten tions, though alloyed by vanity, and mis. guided by ignorance, can never become the objects of the highest moral reprobation; and enthusiasm itself, though it does the work of the demons, ought still to be distinguished from treachery or malice. The knightly adven

turer, vho broke the chains of the galley-tion to the schemes of the court, the clergy

slaves, purely that they might enjoy their deliverance from bondage, will always be regarded with other feelings than the robber who freed them to recruit the ranks of his banditti.

We have examined in a former article the extent of the participation which can be fairly imputed to the philosophers, in the crimes and miseries of the Revolution, and endeavoured to ascertain in how far they may be said to have made themselves responsible for its consequences, or to have deserved censure for their exertions: And, acquitting the greater part of any mischievous intention, we found reason, upon that occasion, to conclude, that there was nothing in the conduct of the majority which should expose them to blame, or deprive them of the credit which they would have certainly enjoyed, but for consequences which they could not foresee. For those who, with intentions equally blameless, attempted to carry into execution the projects which had been suggested by the others, and actually engaged in measures which could not fail to terminate in important changes, it will not be easy, we are afraid, to make so satisfactory an apology. What is written may be corrected; but what is done cannot be recalled; a rash and injudicious publication naturally calls forth an host of answers; and where the subject of discussion is such as excites a very powerful interest, the cause of truth is not always least effectually served by her opponents. But the errors of cabinets and of legislatures have other consequences and other confutations. They are answered by insurrections, and confuted by conspiracies. A paradox which might have been maintained by an author, without any other loss than that little leisure, and ink and paper, can only be supported by a minister at the expense of the lives and the liberties of a nation. It is evident, therefore, that the precipitation of a legislator can never admit of the same excuse with that of a speculative inquirer; that the same confidence in his epinions, which justifies the former in maintaining them to the world, will never justify the other in suspending the happiness of his country on the issue of their truth; and that he, in particular, subjects himself to a tremendous responsibility, who voluntarily takes upon himself the new-modelling of an ancient constitution.

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We are very much inclined to do justice to the virtuous and enlightened men who abounded in the Constituent Assembly of France. We believe that the motives of

and the nobility, appears to us to have been as impolitic with a view to their ultimate success, as it was suspicious perhaps as to their immediate motives. The parade which they made of their popularity; the support which they submitted to receive from the menaces and acclamations of the mob; the joy which they testified at the desertion of the royal armies; and the anomalous military force, of which they patronized the formation in the city of Paris, were so many preparations for actual hostility, and led almost inevitably to that appeal to force, by which all prospect of establishing an equitable government was finally cut off. Sanguine as the patriots of that assembly undoubtedly were, they might still have remembered the most obvious and important lesson in the whole volume of history, That the nation which has recourse to arms for the settlement of its internal affairs, necessarily falls under the iron yoke of a military government in the end; and that nothing but the most evident necessity can justify the lovers of freedom in forcing it from the hands of their governors. In France, there certainly was no such necessity. The whole weight and strength of the nation was bent upon political improvement and reform.There was no possibility of their being ultimately resisted; and the only danger that was to be apprehended was, that their progress would be too rapid. After the StatesGeneral were once fairly granted, indeed, it appears to us that the victory of the friends to liberty was certain. They could not have gone too slow afterwards; they could not have been satisfied with too little. The great object, then, should have been to exclude the agency of force, and to leave no pretext for an appeal to violence. Nothing could have stood against the force of reason, which ought to have given way; and from a monarch of the character of Louis XIV. there was no reason to apprehend any attempt to regain, by violence, what he had yielded from principles of philanthropy and conviction. The Third Estate would have grown into power, instead of usurping it; and would have gradually compressed the other orders into their proper dimensions, instead of displacing them by a violence that could never be forgiven. Even if the Orders had deliberated separately, (as it appears to us they ought clearly to have done,) the commons were sure of an ultimate preponderance, and the government of a permanent and incalculable amelioration. Con

many of them were pure, and their patriot-vened in a legislative assembly, and engross

ism unaffected: their talents are still more indisputable: But we cannot acquit them of blameable presumption and inexcusable imprudence. There are three points, it appears to us, in particular, in which they were bound to have foreseen the consequences of their proceedings.

D. the first place, the spirit of exasperation, defrance, and intimidation, with which from we Leginning they carried on their opposi

ing almost entirely the respect and affections of the nation, they would have enjoyed the unlimited liberty of political discussion, and gradually impressed on the government the character of their peculiar principles. By the restoration of the legislative function to the commons of the kingdom, the system was rendered complete, and required only to be put into action in order to assume all those improvements which necessarily resul'ed from this question, it is much to be doubted whether | represented them, as an expedient, admirably in

this singular proceeding has not, as much as any other circumstance, served to raise the character of the English nation in the opinion of Europe in general. He who has read, and still more he who has heard in conversation, discussions upon this subject, by foreigners, must have perceived, that, even in the minds of those who condemn the act. the impression made by it has been far more that of respect and admiration, than that of disgust and horror. The truth is, that the guilt of the action, that is to say, the taking away the life of the King, is what most men in the place of Cromwell and his associates would have incurred. What there is of splendour and of magnanimity in it, I mean the publicity and solemnity of the act, is what few would be capable of displaying. It is a degrading fact to human nature, that even the sending away of the Duke of Gloucester was an instance of generosity almost unexampled in the history of transactions of this nature."-pp. 13-17.

Under the Protector, of whom he speaks with singular candour, the government was absolute-and, on his death, fell wholly into the hands of the army. He speaks with contempt and severe censure of Monk for the precipitate and unconditional submission into which he hurried the country at the Restoration; and makes the following candid reflection on the subsequent punishment of the regicides.

"With respect to the execution of those who were accused of having been more immediately concerned in the King's death, that of Scrope, who had come in upon the proclamation, and of the military officers who had attended the trial, was a violation of every principle of law and justice. But the fate of the others, though highly dishonourable to Monk, whose whole power had arisen from his zeal in their service, and the favour and confidence with which they had rewarded him, and not perhaps very creditable to the nation, of which many had applauded, more had supported, and almost all had acquiesced in the act, is not certainly to be imputed as a crime to the King, or to those of his ad visers who were of the Cavalier party. The passion of revenge, though properly condemned both by philosophy and religion, yet when it is excited by injurious treatment of persons justly dear to us, is among the most excusable of human frailties; and if Charles, in his general conduct, had shown stronger feelings of gratitude for services performed to his father, his character, in the eyes of many, would be rather raised than lowered by this example of severity against the regicides."-pp. 22, 23.

The mean and unprincipled submission of Charles to Louis XIV., and the profligate pretences upon which he was perpetually soliciting an increase of his disgraceful stipend, are mentioned with becoming reprobation. The delusion of the Popish plot is noticed at some length; and some admirable remarks are introduced with reference to the debates on the

expediency of passing a bill for excluding the

Duke of York from the Crown, or of imposing certain restrictions on him in the event of his succession. The following observations are distinguished for their soundness, as well as their acuteness; and are applicable, in principle, to every period of our history in which it can be necessary to recur to the true prin

ciples of the constitution.

"It is not easy to conceive upon what principles even the Tories could justify their support of the restrictions. Many among them, no doubt, saw the provisions in the same light in which the Whigs

were not to

deed adapted to the real object of upholding the present king's power, by the defeat of the exclusion, but never likely to take effect for their pre tended purpose of controuling that of his successor, and supported them for that very reason. But such a principle of conduct was too fraudulent to be avowed; nor ought it perhaps, in candour, to be imputed to the majority of the party. To those who acted with good faith, and meant that the restrictions should really take place, and be effectual, surely it ought to have occurred (and to those who most prized the prerogatives of the crown, it ought most forcibly to have occurred), that, in consenting to curtail the powers of the crown, rather than to alter the succession, they were adopting the greater, in order to avoid the lessor evil. The question of, what are to be the powers of the crown? is surely of superior importance to that of, who shall wear it? Those, at least, who consider the royal prerogative as vested in the king, not for his own sake, but for that of his subjects, must consider the one of these questions as much above the other in dignity, as the rights of the public are more valuable than those of an individual. In this view, the prerogatives of the crown are in substance and effect the rights of the people and these rights of the people be sacrificed to the purpose of preserving the succession to the most favoured prince, much less to one who, on account of his religious persuasion, was justly feared and suspected. In truth, the question between the exclusion and restrictions seems peculiarly calculated to ascertain the different views in which the different parties in this country have seen, and perhaps ever will see, the prerogatives of the crown. The Whigs, who consider them as a trust for the people, a doctrine which the Tories themselves, when pushed in argument, will sometimes admit, naturally think it their duty rather to change the manager of the trust, than to impair the subject of it; while others, who consider them as the right or property of the king, will as naturally act as they would do in the case of any other property, and consent to the loss or annihilation of any part of it, for the purpose of preserving the remainder to him, whom they style the rightful owner. If the people be the sovereign, and the king the delegate, it is better to change the bailiff than to injure the farm; but if the king be the proprietor, it is better the farm should be impaired, nay, part of it destroyed, than that the whole should pase over to an usurper. The royal prerogative ought, according to the Whigs (not in the case of a Popish successor only, but in all cases), to be reduced to such powers as are in their exercise beneficial to the people; and of the benefit of these they will not rashly suffer the people to be deprived, whether the executive power be in the hands of an heredi tary, or of an elected king; of a regent, or of any other denomination of magistrate, bleven the while, on reference only to royalty, will, with equal readi

ness, consent either to the extension or the suspension of its exercise, as the occasional interests of the prince may seem to require."-pp. 37-39.

Of the reality of any design to assassinate the King, by those engaged in what was called the Rye-House Plot, Mr. Fox appears to entertain considerable doubt, partly on account of the improbability of many of the circumstances, and partly on account of the uniform and resolute denial of Rumbold, the chief of that party, in circumstances when he had no Of the condemnation of Russell and Sydney, he speaks with the indignation which must be felt by all friends to liberty at the recollection of that disgraceful proceeding. The following passage is one of the most eloquen

conceivable inducement to disguise the truth.

and one of the most characteristic in the whole | quis of Halifax, for having given an opinion

volume.

"Upon evidence such as has been stated, was his great and excellent man (Sydney) condemned to die. Pardon was not to be expected. Mr. Hume says, that such an interference on the part of the King, though it might have been an act of heroic generosity, could not be regarded as an indispensable duty. He might have said, with more propriety, that it was idle to expect that the government, after having incurred so much guilt in order to obtain the sentence, should, by remitting it, re. linquish the object just when it is within its grasp. The same historian considers the jury as highly blameable: and so do I; But what was their guilt, in comparison of that of the court who tried, and of the government who prosecuted, in this infamous cause? Yet the jury, being the only party that can with any colour be stated as acting independ

ently of the government, is the only one mentioned by him as blameable. The prosecutor is wholly smitted in his censure, and so is the court; this last, not from any tenderness for the judge (who, to do this author justice, is no favourite with him),

but lest the odious connection between that branch of the judicature and the government should strike the reader too forcibly: For Jefferies, in this instance, ought to be regarded as the mere tool and instrument (a fit one, no doubt) of the prince who had appointed him for the purpose of this and similar services. Lastly, the King is gravely introduced on the question of pardon, as if he had had no prior concern in the cause, and were now to decide upon the propriety of extending mercy to a criminal condemned by a court of judicature! Nor are we once reminded what that judicature was, by whom appointed, by whom influenced, by whom called upon to receive that detestable evidence, the very recollection of which, even at this distance of time, fires every honest heart with indignation. As well might we palliate the mur ders of Tiberius; who seldom put to death his victims without a previous decree of his senate. The moral of all this seems to be, that whenever a prince can, by intimidation, corruption, illegal evidence, or other such means, obtain a verdict against a subject whom he dislikes, he may cause him to be executed without any breach of indispensable duty; nay, that it is an act of heroic generosity, if he spares him. I never reflect on Mr. Hume's statement of this matter but with the deepest regret. Widely as I differ from him upon many other occasions, this appears to me to be the most reprehensible passage of his whole work. A spirit of adulation towards deceased princes, though in a good measure free from the imputation of interested meanness, which is justly attached to flattery, when applied to living monarchs; yet, as it is less intelligible with respect to its motives than the other, so is it in its consequences still more pernicious to the general interests of mankind. Fear of censure from contemporaries will seldom have much effect

in council that the North American colonies should be made participant in the benefits of the English constitution, gives occasion to the following natural reflection.

"There is something curious in discovering, that, even at this early period, a question relative to North American liberty, and even to North American taxation, was considered as the test of principles friendly or adverse, to arbitary power at home. But the truth is, that among the several controversies which have arisen, there is no other

wherein the natural rights of man on the one hand, and the authority of artificial institution on the other, as applied respectively, by the Whigs and Tories, to the English constitution, are so fairly put in issue, nor by which the line of separation between the two parties is so strongly and distinctly marked." -P. 60.

The introductory chapter is closed by the following profound and important remarks, which may indeed serve as a key to the whole transactions of the ensuing reign.

"Whoever reviews the interesting period which we have been discussing, upon the principle recommended in the outset of this chapter, will find, that, from the consideration of the past, to prognosticate the future, would, at the moment of Charles' demise, be no easy task. Between two persons, one of whom should expect that the country would remain sunk in slavery, the other, that the cause of freedom would revive and triumph, it would be difficult to decide, whose reasons were better supported, whose speculations the more probable. I should guess that he who desponded, had looked more at the state of the public; while he who was sanguine, had fixed his eyes more attentively upon the person who was about to mount the throne. Upon reviewing the two great parties of the nation, one observation occurs very forcibly, and that is, that the great strength of the Whigs consisted in their being able to brand their adversaries as favourers of Popery; that of the Tories (as far as their strength depended upon opinion, and not merely upon the power of the crown), in their finding colour to represent the Whigs as republicans. From this observation we may draw a further inference, that, in proportion to the rashness of the crown, in avowing and pressing forward the cause of Popery, and to the moderation and steadiness of the Whigs, in adhering to the form of monarchy, would be the chance of the people of England, for changing an ignominious despotism for glory, liberty, and hap piness."-pp. 66, 67.

James was known to have had so large a share in the councils of his brother, that no one expected any material change of system from his accession. The Church, indeed, it was feared, might be less safe under a professed Catholic; and the severity of his temsome dread of an aggravated

upon mea in situations of unlimited authority.
win too often flatter themselves, the
same pewer which enables them commit the might inspire per

to

crime, will secure them from reproach. The dread of posthumous infamy, therefore, being the only restraint, their consciences excepted, upon the pas sions of such persons, it is lamentable that this last defence (feeble enough at best), should in any degree be impaired; and impaired it must be, if not totally destroyed, when tyrants can hope to find in a man like Hume, no less eminent for the integrity and benevolence of his heart, than for the depth and soundness of his understanding, an apologist for even their foulest murders."-pp. 48-50.

oppression. It seems to be Mr. Fox's great object, in this first chapter, to prove that the object of his early policy was, not to establish the Catholic religion, but to make himself absolute and independent of his Parliament.

The fact itself, he conceives, is completely established by the manner in which his secret negotiations with France were carried on; in the whole of which, he was zealously served by ministers, no one of whom had the slightest leaning towards Popery, or could

The uncontrouled tyranny of Charles' administration in his latter days, is depicted with ever be brought to countenance the measures much force and fidelity; and the clamour which he afterwards pursued in its favour raised by his other ministers against the Mar- | It is made still more evident by the complexior

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