tics, to which she was uncommonly sensitive. At Lausanne she composed the first part of the essay On the Influence of the Passions upon the Happiness of Individuals and Nations,' which was published at Paris in 1796, and the second part in 1797.-This production is reckoned one of her best, and was translated in 1798 into English; a language in which the writer was well versed, as, indeed, she was in English literature generally, far beyond the usual acquirements of a foreigner.

Madame de Stael was with her father when the French troops invaded Switzerland; and though he had been placed on the emigrant list by Robespierre, and consequently exposed to death wherever the troops came, his daughter's influence with the direc tory was sufficient to secure him, not only safety, but respect, and the erasure of his name from this sanguinary roll. She then returned to Paris and to her husband; but in a few months, either tired by the persecutions to which she was exposed, or prompted by some other motive, hastened back to the repose at Copet. In 1798, the dangerous illness of the baron de Stael recalled her to Paris, where she received his last sigh, and soon left the metropolis for Switzerland. After this period she published an essay On the InAuence of Literature upon Society,' which may be considered as a continuation of the two last-mentioned works. In 1800, Bonaparte, in passing through Geneva, had the curiosity to visit M. Necker; and, according to rumour, Madame de Stael took this opportunity to read him a long dissertation on the course he ought to pursue for the prosperity of France. The first consul, it is added, who did not relish the political plans of ladies, listened to her very patiently, and in the end coolly inquired, who educated her children?'

The well-known novel of 'Delphine,' written during this retirement, was printed at Geneva in 1802, and excited great attention in England, France, and Germany, where it has been translated, attacked, criticised, and praised, according to the humour of the parties.

In 1803, she revisited Paris, and formed that connexion with Mr. Benj. Constant, a Swiss cf considerable literary attainments, which lasted to the day of her death. Whether for past or present offences is not easy to tell, but Napoleon was not slow in banishing her to the distance of forty leagues from the capital. Report says, that on this occasion the lady told him: You are giving me a cruel celebrity; I shall occupy a line in your history:' but this sentence is so ambiguous, that we shall not venture to pronounce whether it was a defiance or a compliment. Madame de Stael first went to Auxerre, which she left for Rouen, with an intention to settle in the valley of Montmorency, in search, as she gave out, of more agreeable society. But Rouen and Montmorency were within the forty leagues; and Bonaparte was not accustomed to have his prohibitions infringed upon. She was ordered to withdraw, and, in company with her daughter, and protector, M. Coustant,

journeyed to Frankfort, and thence to Prussia, where she applied herself to the cultivation of German literature. From Berlin, in 1804, she hastened to Copet, on receiving intelligence of her father's danger; but he died before she reached the place. A mortality in her family invariably consigned our subject to the occupation of the study. At Geneva, in the year 1805, issued the Manuscripts of M. Necker, published by his Daughter.'

Still further to divert her mind, she next travelled into Italy, and collected materials for, perhaps, her most celebrated work, • Corinna, or Italy,' which has been translated into many languages. Having returned to Geneva, Madame de Stael amused herself with appearing upon the stage in 1806, and performed in tragedy with considerable skill. There is a drama from her pen called Secret Sentiment.' She has also given to the world a work entitled Germany,' embodying her observations on that country, which has provoked much controversy. Letters and Reflections of the Prince de Ligne,' in two volumes: an Essay on Suicide, and several minor publications, as well as many contributions to the periodical press in Geneva, Paris, and elsewhere, complete the catalogue of her productions.

Madame de Stael has twice visited England; formerly during the revolutionary conflict, when she resided in a small Gothic house at Richmond, which is visible from the river above the bridge; and again about five years ago. During her stay in London she was much courted by persons of the highest rank, and of all parties. Some of her bon mots are in circulation; but we can neither vouch for their authenticity, nor have we left ourselves space for their repetition.

The party in France with which she was most intimately connected at the time of her decease, is that known by the name of the Constitutionnel;' and 'The Mercure,' we have reason to believe, recorded the latest of her opinions, and the last tracings of her prolific pen.

6

We refrain entirely from discussing the merits or demerits of her life and writings. Those merits assuredly raise her to a foremost rank among the female authors of our age; and those demerits, whether springing from susceptibility of being misled,' as urged by her father; from the pernicious inculcations of modern philosophy; or from But we will not proceed; her earthly account is closed, and her frailties, with her sorrows, alike repose in trembling hope, awaiting the decision of an immortal tribunal. It remains then only to add, that Madame de Stael died July 15th, 1817, aged 51 years.

289

ART. VII.-The Hermit in London, or sketches of English

manners.

[From the Literary Gazette.]

A quality scholar and orator.

I called upon my friend, the young member, one morning, for a

frank. I found him en robe de chambre, surrounded with charts, globes, papers, and books, amongst which were proceedings of both houses of parliament, law books, history, and classics, Something written in short-hand lay before him, and a runner to one of the editors of a newspaper was receiving his orders and a parcel. Many franks were around him, and he seemed exhausted with study. All this struck me as rather new. At Oxford he was thought a gay, dissipated young man; yet on one occasion he wrote a splendid thesis, and was second best at the prize Latin oration.

You are over hurried, Charles,' said I, and can have no franks to spare; so I will call another time.' 'Not at all, my dear friend,' said he; I'll date the frank for to-morrow; and if you will sit down, I will be with you immediately. I am indeed fatigued to death. Letters from my constituents pour in like hail-stones; and I have been planning something very beneficial to the state. By the by, come down to the house to day, and you will hear what will please you.'

He now left me for a whole hour to my meditations, during which time a servant fetched a number of books of reference, and I overheard my beardless senatorial friend declaiming in the next room. My first reflection was, that, elate with his green parliamentary honours, he had given more than his number of franks for a week to come, and that mine would not go free. It fell out exactly so: mine, with a dozen others, paid postage.

I now turned to the books. What a list! Cicero, Demosthenes, Plato, Horace, Juvenal, Burke on the Sublime and Beautiful, Shakspeare and Junius! besides Montesquieu and Des Cartes, Bacon, sir Isaac Newton, and a jest book! what a contrast! That my friend was no Greek scholar, I knew of old; but in the Greek authors, slips of paper containing an English translation were inserted. The other authors had their leaves dog's-eared, as we called it at school, and had lines made with red ink under different striking passages. No bad plan,' thought I,' to assist memory.' On the maps which lay open on the table, pins were placed in rows, in order to point out the tract of country alluded to.

After kicking my heels during this long hour, my friend appeared, with a very elate and confident air. He apologized for his delay, talked of the pressure of business, looked important, cast a lingering glance at his looking-glass as we left the room, and we proceeded to the house together. As he went along he read over some notes, conversed in parliamentary language, such as, disposing of the previous question, the simultaneous movement of continental powers, the order of the day, existing circumstances,

imperious necessity, fundamental features, etcetera, until we at last arrived.

He smiled content when he was accosted as one of the house. He took his seat with as much ease as if he had had a septennial lease of it, nodded to friends, cast an eye up to the gallery, looked anxious, and at last rose to speak. I now perceived a significant look given and returned by a gentleman in black near me.

The honourable member spoke at some length, but did not excite general interest. A few friends, however, shouted a supporting hear, hear,' not undisturbed by coughing. The gentleman in black looked anxious; he drew near me; He makes a good appearance, for so young a man.' Yes, indeed,' replied I. A good deal of classic knowledge,' rejoined he. Truly, indeed,' said I. Much general reading,' added he again. And a very laboured speech,' replied I. Humph!' quoth the clergyman; for I now found him such. A young man who has read a great deal,' observed he. My friend now made a quotation which I remembered in his Thesis. I mentioned it to the clergyman, who said in answer,' He was a man of early promise.' He now quoted Juvenal. Bravo,' exultingly said the friend, his face all beaming with hope.

I thought that I had seen the countenance somewhere, and I asked if he was a relation; to which he answered in the negative, adding, but I am more, I am a very early and sincere friend of his.'-The speaker now made a geographical blunder. Fish!' cried his friend. But none of the house observed it! The attention of the majority was not engaged.-I mean the majority, not in politics, but in numbers: the other learned members did not perceive it: the clergyman looked consoled. He made a blunder in a quotation: his friend blushed, and bit his lip. However the speech now came to a close; and our black coat withdrew.

'Doctor Polylogue! your most obedient,' said a brother black coat as he passed him. I now recollected my man. He had been private tutor to my friend at college, and had travelled with him, for which he has an annuity. He also got a living from the young member's uncle. The whole secret was now unravelled!-I recognised the hand-writing of the Greek translations; and perceived that the tutor had just been giving his lesson to his pupil previous to his going down to the house. The short-hand writer was employed to note down the speech, and the editor's runner called to take the materials for a puff. The reverend has great hopes of his patron's shining, and still greater expectations of getting promotion through the immense property and extensive interest of the family and its connexions. When the scholar made a blunder, it was natural for the tutor to look confused; just as it was nothing surprising to see him exult in the expertness of his young tyro. Although the privilege of proxy belong alone to the upper house, yet the practice may thus be indirectly applied to the lower one.

We have many authors and senators behind the curtain, who lend out their abilities to riches and to power; and thus, in more instances than the present one, is the character of eloquence acquired, and the author's wreath is worn by him who never earned it. Our tutored members, however, seldom or ever speak in reply; and our nominal authors rarely allow themselves to be drawn into oral argument; whilst the secret hand may aspire, at a future period, to lawn sleeves, and to taking his seat quietly in the upper house.

ART. VIII.-Excursion from Edinburgh to Dublin.

[Mr. Editor,—If you think that the following cursory notices of an excursion to Dublin, undertaken from Edinburgh in the Spring of 1817, may gratify the readers of the Analectic Magazine, you are at liberty to insert them in the work. They are extracted from the journal of a young gentleman, a native of New England, then absent on his travels in Europe; and were hastily written during short intervals of leisure, at the desire, and solely for the entertainment of the friend who now submits them to your disposal. They include sketches of the scenery and general aspect of the west country in Scotland, the eastern countries in Ireland, and the romantic lakes and mountains of Cumberland and the border districts of England, which last the writer visited while on his return to Edinburgh. A journal of rapid and daily incident cannot be supposed to abound much in detail. The memoranda, however, which follow, contain numerous hints, and may be found sufficiently copious to engage general interest. They are presented, (with the exception of some omissions, and the addition of a few recent observations by the writer,) in the same form in which he originally communicated them; and possess, from that circumstance, a distinctness and freshness which may recommend them to the acceptance of the candid reader.]

Glasgow, Friday, April 11, 1817. THE clock of St. Giles' had tolled the hour of eight when the stage-coach, in which I had taken a seat for Glasgow, rattled to the door. A few friends had assembled to witness my departure from Edinburgh, and to take a temporary leave. I was fortunate in having for a companion an intelligent and valued fellowcountryman, who had made an arrangement to travel with me to Dublin, whence, after a short stay, he was to embark for the south of England. On descending to the carriage, I was struck with the beauty and brilliancy of the morning. The air was mild and temperate; the sky free from clouds; and the sun, which had risen high, was pouring a broad light over the tops of the huge masses of houses in the old town, and displaying in all their gigantic prominence the gray walls and towers of its ancient castle. From the ramparts of the last a bugle was just sounding. I had often listened with delighted emotion to the effect of this music, in a morning or evening, from the windows of my lodgings, which