were intimately combined; in her political customs and institutions; and in the events of her history, which brought into vivid action the most noble powers of the mind; we may discover those circumstances which peculiarly fostered the arts: but it would' demand a very minute analysis, an analysis which M. LEULIETTE has not attempted, and which would require very persevering labour to supply, to exhibit that view of the progress of Belles-Lettres, and the Arts, which would satisfy the ingenious inquirer.

It might be said that other countries have abounded in sacred mythologies; and that Egypt in particular, the acknowleged cradle of Grecian sicence, though professing a religion which equally addressed itself to the senses, and endeavouring to create an effect on the public mined by visible representations, never produced artists who exhibited such elegant and correct forms as those of Greece. Let it, however, be remembered that the mythology of Egypt was not so propitious to true genius as that of Attica; that Egypt had not a Homer; that her religion delighted more in stupendous and emblematic than in beautiful and chaste forms; and moreover that the nature of her government was not calculated, like that of the Greeks, to bring into action all the intellectual energies of her people. During the period of Grecian glory, all that was great in man, all that contributed to exalt his powers, and to kindle every spark of talent, was cherished by the most happy combination of events, -by a combination which very rarely occurs in the history of the world. Greece was a little universe; and a single city there presented, within the period of ten years, more interesting scenes and greater characters than all Asia, in the course of ten centuries.

Supereminent as once was the glory of Greece, it has long disappeared; and only in the remains of her literature and her art, are we able to trace her antient superiority. Whether any future revolution will revive her consequence, it is impossible to foresee but at present she is sunken to the lowest level of human degradation over which, M. LEULIETTE pouts an affecting and at the same time an artful lamentation :

This country, which has conferred so much honour on human. ity, is no longer visible among nations; and the luminary, which once enlightened her, seems to have set for ever. Rome has been more fortunate; she has risen from her ruins, and has obtained a second existence almost as brilliant as the first. She does not indeed present in modern times the majestic and striking spectacle of a free and conquering people, nor a senate formidable to her citizens and to the whole world: but the genius of her sovereigns has procured for her a domination not less extensive than that which she formerly enjoyed. The pomp of the Vatican and the temple of the Apostle

of

of Christianity have in some degree eclipsed the majesty of the Pantheon and the palace of the Cæsars. Italy has seen chefs-d'œuvre arise on the remains of those of antiquity, and her harmonious lyres have revived the ashes of Horace and of Virgil: but Greece has never recovered the happy privilege of enlightening and charming her people, and barbarians now trample that classic ground. The stupid sectaries of Islamism, incapable of the efforts of creative genius, have almost effaced the very traces of the glory of Athens; brutish and miserable slaves, without thought, and in stupid ignorance, walk over the august theatres on which Sophocles and Euripides disputed the tragic palm, on which Aschines and Demosthenes shared the triumphs of cloquence, and Plato and Aristotle partook the glory of enlightening mankind.

The isles have endured the same fate in which the continent has been involved; the same yoke is imposed on Rhodes, so celebrated both for her master-pieces of art and for the industry of her inhabitants; on the island of Crete, in which poetry has placed the cradle of Jupiter; and in short on the whole Archipelago, in which the illusions of fable conspired with the charms of nature to create a region of enchantment. What happy revolution, what change in European policy, will restore this country to its pristine glory; and there rekindle, after the lapse of twenty centuries, the torch of the arts !'

In this apostrophe, we perceive the views of the French. In fact, M. LEULIETTE's Essay is rather a bold declamation than a sober inquiry; and perhaps he already sees, in his poetic visions, the French flag waving on the walls of the Acropolis.

ART. VIII. Mémoires de M. le Baron DE BESENVAL, &c. i. e. Memoirs of the Baron Dɛ BESENVAL, Lieutenant General in the armies of Louis XV and Louis XVI, Great Cross of the Order of St. Louis, Governor of Haguenau, Commandant of the Provinces of the Interior, Lieutenant Colonel of the regiment of Swiss Guards, &c. Written by himself, printed from his original Manuscript, and published by his Executor. Containing many particulars and ancedotes of the Court, the Ministers, and the Reigns of Louis XV and Louis XVI, and of the Events of the Time. Preceded by a short account of the life of the Author. In 3 Vols. 8vo. Paris. 1805. Imported by De Boffe. Price 11. 18. sewed. N introductory note informs the reader that he is indebted for this interesting work to M. A. J. de Ségur, who was Executor of the will of M. DE BESENVAL, and who guarantees the authenticity of the publication. M. de S. has also prefixed to it a brief memoir of the author, from which we shall make an abstract.

A

PETER VICTOR, Baron of BESENTAL, was born at Soleure, of a Patrician family. He entered into the regiment of Swiss Guards as a cadet at the age of nine, made the cam

paign of 1735 at the age of thirteen; and served in Bohemia as aid de camp to the late General Broglio in 1748. In the very commencement of the seven years' war, the bravery which he manifested in storming a redoubt, and the pleasantry by which he kept up the spirits of his men, which were ready to droop, though success was within their reach, raised the young BESENVAL to early notice, and insured his speedy promotion. In the war of 1-57 he served as aid de camp to the Duke of Orleans; and during the peace, the Baron contracted that close intimacy with this Prince, which afterward assisted his fortune. If he possessed every requisite which commands success in camps, that bravery, that rare manner of animating all around him, of charming his comrades by his sallies, of encouraging his inferiors by his example, and of recommending himself to his chiefs by that intelligence and activity which he unceasingly displayed, he was not less distinguished by the grace, talents, address, and the good taste, which

seduce in courts.

He joined to a tall figure that form which gave charms to youth, and dignity to advanced age: but he laboured under one grand defect; he was subject to outrageous bursts of passion. This imperfection he had in vain attempted to remedy; and he was at length induced readily to give way to it, as to a violent crisis which could not be prevented, and from which he could thus be the most speedily freed. An interesting anecdote of him is related on this subject. He had an old Valet named Blanchard, who had served his father before the Baron was born, and who had ever since been in the family. He was, bending under the pressure of age, lived with his master as an old friend rather than as a servant, and had only little matters to arrange, which contributed to amuse him and keep him in gentle exercise.

A Cape Jasmine was one day brought to M. DE BESENVAL, which he destined for the Queen: but having occasion to go out, he confided it to Blanchard, desiring him to water it. The good man busied himself with the flower, but his attention did not preserve him from a sad misfortune. The pot slips, falls, and is broken; the root, the flower, are all reduced to fragments! At this moment, M. BESENVAL enters; he runs to his jasmine; at the sight of the catastrophe, he flies into a passion which soon rises to fury; the old man attempts to escape, but his master lays hold of him, and loads him with reproaches. The day passes on, and the rage of the Baron still more quickly dissipates.

He sends several times to the door of Blanchard to learn how he is; the answer is that he is gone to bed; this disturbs him, and torments him during the whole of the night. In the morning, he rings; when Blanchard enters the chamber, and thus addresses him: "My lord,

I come

I come to ask a favour; it is the permission to retire to my relations." "What," says M. de B. warmly: "you desire to leave me! You will stay, sir, we ought to live and die together.".

66

us."

No, my lord, I perceive that I become hateful to you, I grow too old, and only excite, by my infirmities, the violence of your temper. You have loaded me with gifts and kindness; I will often come to see you: but if I dwell not here, and am no longer entrusted with any thing, we shall both of us escape those scenes which destroy "Well sir," replies the Baron with teats in his eyes, "it is then a settled thing? we must part? You belonged to my father, your wife was my nurse, you are older than I am in the family, and it is I who must go I will return when you can tolerate my fail. ings." At these words, he took his cane and his hat, quitted his chamber, and was going out: but immediately the good Blanchard, moved by this unexpected stroke, throws himself at his feet before his door. His master raises him, presses him in his arms, they shed tears, and swear never to separate.'

We shall have occasion to observe, however, in the sequel, that M. le Baron, with all his natural goodness, was rather deficient in morals. His biographer admits that he was more lively than profound; that he owed more to nature than to art; that his fine tact, which made him divine what was proper to be said or done on most occasions, covered his scanty knowlege, and perhaps misled him, by enabling him to talk on subjects with which he was not acquainted; and that he was of opinion that a man of the world had little need of instruction, and ought to confine his studies wholly to his profession. He died in 1789, at a time,' observes his biographer, when he would have been obliged to witness events which would have thrown him into despair. He left to society only honorable recollections; military men remember him with respect; the arts regret him; his family regard him as their boast; and his friends will always bewail him.'

The work commences with an account of the reforms introduced into that part of the Swiss soldiery which was in the pay of France; a detail which interests chiefly as it shews the honourable native bent of the author, his firmness in a laudable undertaking, his foresight, his address, and his thorough knowlege of the people with whom he had to deal; a knowlege which each country dignifies with the name of the knowlege of the world.

Our readers are informed that, about the beginning of the last century, a war of religion, excited by the priests, raged some time in Swisserland. It is also notorious that many of the catholic leaders embarked very unwillingly in the contests which the holy incendiaries had excited; and of this number was the commandant Pfiffer. Not desirous of vanquishing the protesAPP. REV. VOL. XLVIIL

Kk

tants

tants, he took a bad position, and even permitted himself to be turned. His son, who was not in the secret, perceived the fault which his father had committed, and apprized him of it: but seeing that he took no steps to remedy it, and full of a patriotic enthusiasm worthy of the first Romans, he cried out from rank to rank: What; will no person kill my father; as for me, I cannot; I am his son.

Curibus anecdotes, interesting sketches of several Generals, and remarks highly creditable to the understanding of the writer, give value to his accounts of several battles which happened in the course of the seven years' war; they claim the attention of historians, and will be very acceptable to military

men.

Every body has heard of the profligacy of manners which prevailed under the Regent. Instances which completely illustrate this fact are stated in these volumes, and we regret to find the accounts descend into offensive detail; at least into such as a British public would deem highly indecorous. It is to be feared that our brave, high-minded, and in other respects honorable and upright Baron entered but too much into the dissoluteness of the period; since he publishes to all future times, that he gave every assistance in his power to a deliberate seducer, in order to facilitate his triumph over an affected prude. The Baron indeed admits that this proceeding, which he endeavours to gloss over, may perhaps redound to his shame. We think truly that it does, and in a high degree; even after every allowance has been made for his want of edu cation, and his relation with a court in which all morality was set at defiance.

The Baron states that the father of the late king of Portugal, on being asked by his mistress, during one of his visits to her, to grant her a favour, became all at once silent; and can you, said she, refuse me what I so much desire?—No, replied -he, I promise you, that to morrow I will speak of it to the king.: The same monarch held one day an argument with the Marquis de Pontelimar, on the power of kings; the latter maintained that it had limits, but his sovereign would admit of none, and said to his courtier with great warmth, if I ordered you to throw yourself into the sea, you ought, without hesitation, to jump into it head foremost. The Marquis immediately turned short, and went towards the door. The king, surprized, asked him - where he was going. To learn to swim, Sire. The king laughed heartily, and the conversation ended.

The author of these memoirs was closely connected with the Duke de Choiseul, of whom many, anecdotes are here related: , but they descend too much into minutie to allow of our ex

tracting