IUi| 
 
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 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029692112 
 
_ Cornell University Library 
 
 AS162.P23 E26 
 
 Chapters of the biographical history of 
 
 olin 
 
 3 1924 029 692 112 
 

 5 
 
 
 
 1> 
 
CHAPTERS 
 
 or THE 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FRENCH ACADEMY. 
 
 WITH AN APPENDIX, 
 RELATING TO THE UNPUBLISHED MONASTIC CHRONICLE, 
 
 ENTITLED, 
 
 LIBEB BE HYBA. 
 
 By 
 EDWARD EDWARDS. 
 
 LONDON : 
 TEtJBNBR AND CO., 60, PATEENOSTER EOW. 
 
 /Yl 
 
 1864. 
 
A'/1.02. 
 
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 FRTNTKD BY 
 J. E. ADLAliD, BARTirOT.OMnV CLOSE. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. CHAPTERS OP THE BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY OF THli 
 FRENCH AC ADMIT:— 
 
 CHAP. PA&J' 
 
 I. Sttmmah.t. — View ot the Histoby or the Academy 
 
 IN GENERAL; AND OF ITS INFLUENCE ON FrEKCH I/ITE- 
 
 batuke. — SouacEs of the History . 3 
 
 II. The Pounders.— The Hotel de Rambouillet.— The 
 
 QUAHBEL concerning THE CiD . . .1^ 
 
 III. The early Elections and Exclusions.— The expulsion 
 OE THE Abbe de St. Pierre. — The Academic impedi- 
 ments AND ultimate TRIUMPH OP MoNTESQUIEU. — 
 The STRENGTH AND THE WEAKNESS OF VoLTAIRE — 
 
 His Speech to the Academy . 
 
 IV. BuFFON ; the Court devotee, Pabadis de ;Monckif ; 
 AND THE Discourse on Style.- The Disgraces of 
 Thomas. — Chamfort and Mirabeau. — The Academy 
 dissolved . . ■ ■ 
 
 V. Retrospective glance at the Academic Prizes and 
 
 their results, up to the Revolutionary Dissolu- 
 rpioN.— Creation of the Institute of Prance, and its 
 
 SUBSEaUENT REORGANIZATION BY NaPOLEON.— RETURN 
 OF THE OLD ACADEMICIANS WHO HAD SURVIVED THE 
 
 Revolution 
 
 VI. Destutt de Tracy ; iiis Life, Philosophy, and Acade- 
 
 mical RECEPTION.— His minor Writings and Death 50 
 
 VII. Chateaubriand and Napoleon I.— The AVriter, the 
 Exile, the Academician, and the Statesman.— A.\ 
 Imperial Audience at Saint-Cloud.— The Public 
 Life of Chai|aubriand during the Restoration.— 
 'i-Rs. Memoirs FBom BEYOND TEE Gra IE . •>'^ 
 
 '>-i 
 
 38 
 
 45 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 VIII. Napoleon and the Poets. — The Carbek op Lemeroiek. 
 — The Poetbt-Pmze ov the Belle Povlb Expe- 
 dition. — The AcADEMir under the Restoration. — 
 The " Latt of Justice and op Love " . . .77 
 
 IX. The Stripe op Classicists and Romanticists. — The 
 Academical Candidatukes op Casimir De la Vigne, 
 and op Victor Hugo . . . S2 
 
 X. Alexis de Tocqueville. — His VTork oh North America. 
 — His Reception at the Academy. — His other 
 Writings and Political Lipe . . . .86 
 
 XL Alpbed de Vignx and the Count de Mole 100 
 
 XII. The Count de Monialbmbert, and the Abbe Laoob- 
 
 DAIEE ... , 104 
 
 XIII. The Gobebt Peizes por Pbbnch History. — The Pbizbs 
 
 OP Babon DE Montyon . . . . 113 
 
 XIV. The Recent Elections. — The Candidatube op the 
 
 Empbbor. — The Pamphlet op Bishop Dupanloup . 118 
 
 II. THE EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OE KING ALFRED ; V^^ITH 
 SOME ACCOUNT OE AN UNPRINTED CHRONICLE 
 OF ANGLO-SAXON HISTORY. 
 
 I. Concerning the Book of Htde Jbbef . . 129 
 
 II. The Relatite Status op the Historians op Alpred. — 
 Haemony op the Pbincipai Events op his Lipe, as 
 nabbated (1) IN the Saxon Ceironicle ; (2) in the 
 Annals ascbibed to Asser op St. David's; (3) in 
 THE Book of Htde Abbey . . _ 2,36 
 
 HI, List op Authorities auoiED by the Hyde Chbonicler. 161 
 IV. Concerning the Documents exhibited in the Hyde 
 Cff^Brra^jjr.— Text op Alpbed's Will in Anglo- 
 Saxon AND IN Middle English. . . 1(35 
 
I. 
 
 CHAPTERS OF THE BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY 
 
 OF THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 
 
 1629 — 1863. 
 
" True, indeedj it is 
 That tliey wlioni Death has hidden from our sight 
 Are wortliiest of the mind's regard ; with these 
 The Future cannot contradict the Past : 
 Mortality's last exercise and proof 
 Is undergone ; the transit made that shows 
 The very Soul, revealed as she departs. 
 Yet (as you have suggested), — I shall give, — 
 Whilst we descend into those silent vaults, — 
 Some pictures from the Living.' ' 
 
 The JExcursion, v. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 RETROSPECTIVE GLANCES AT THE GENERAL HISTORY OF TSE 
 FREXCH ACADEMY, AND AT ITS INFLUENCE ON FRENCH 
 LITERATURE. 
 
 On this side tlie Channel, we have been accustomed to 
 think of endowed and privileged literary associations, as of 
 a somewhat cumbrous machinery for thrusting the heads of 
 dwarfs up to a temporary level with the heads of great men. 
 We cannot, or cannot very easily, enter into the views and 
 feelings with which many highly educated and accomplished 
 frenchmen will talk of the private doings, and of the public 
 displays of the " French Academy." When we find a man 
 of the world, and a statesman — as well as a distinguished 
 author — like the Count de Montalembert, writing (as he 
 wrote in 1863) of the membership of the French Academy, 
 as being " the noblest reward which, in our days, can 
 crown a glorious and independent life," we are apt to regard 
 it as, at all events, a highly rhetorical phrase. The flutter 
 of excitement which an academical election in Paris often 
 creates, amongst the men of high scholarship, and of varied 
 experience of life, as well as amongst the fashionable writers 
 of the passing day, seems to us overstrained, if it be not 
 puerile. And we cannot forget that in some well-known 
 
demies. 
 
 4 BESETTING SINS OP LITERARY ACADEMIES. 
 
 instances, elsewhere than in France, academic honours have 
 served to drape very poor performances in showy costumes. 
 The beset- When the institution from whose history it is the object 
 literary aca- of thcsc pagcs to select somc salicnt chapters, was yet in 
 its cradle, the witty epistolographer Balzac wrote to his 
 friend Chapelain : — " You tell me you have been received 
 into the ' Academie des beaux esprits.' May I ask who 
 are those ' beaux esprits ' who have received you ?" Bal- 
 zac's inquiry points, with quiet sarcasm, to a reproach to 
 which learned academicians, in all countries, have frequently 
 laid themselves open. An association exclusively composed 
 of men of great genius, and of lofty ambition, would be, 
 indeed, 
 
 " A monster, wliioli the world ne'er saw," 
 
 An association of mixed materials, including, as it needs 
 must include, men of small parts, and of petty aims in life, 
 is sure to possess a tendency towards the fostering of me- 
 diocrity, the growth of servility, and the pedantic display 
 of minute learning. But, whether such tendencies shall, 
 in the long run, be developed, or be held in check, seems to 
 me to be a question, partly, perhaps, of organization, but 
 partly of social atmosphere. 
 
 If, from the days of the Intronati of Sienna, and the Infiam- 
 mati of Padua, downwards, literary history abounds with 
 instances in which the lower elements of learned Corpora- 
 tions — as of Corporations unlearned — have become domi- 
 nant over the higher, it also tells us of Academies whicb 
 have done their proper conjimctive work with eminent 
 success, and have, at the same time, so governed themselves 
 as to make the nobler qualities and aspirations of their 
 members bear rule over the less noble. Organize a learned 
 Academy as you will, small corporate interests and small 
 personal temptations will, occasionally, give birth to cabals 
 
WHAT THE FRENCH ACADEMY HAS ACHIEVED. 5 
 
 and cliques. In cliques, you will be sure to find worship- 
 pers of success, however obtained, and tools of power, 
 however directed. But in some " Academies " these baser 
 spirits are found to run riot ; in others they are habitually 
 kept under. Hence it is that I think the present topic 
 one which may be usefully treated. It is also a topic which 
 may reasonably be thought to need no extraordinary ability, 
 or exceptional advantages, in order to its useful treatment. 
 One special advantage, indeed, it possesses — in itself — for 
 the present writer. It is, so far as is known to me, un- 
 touched in English literature. And the freshness of a 
 subject tends powerfully to eke out humble means of 
 handling it. 
 
 There will, I think, be little difficulty in showing that ^i^-''' '1"= 
 
 ■' ° French Aca- 
 
 even in times which try, most searchingly, of what sort of aemy ims a- 
 clay men are made, the French Academy has inhaled, freely, """^ ' 
 the wholesome air of public opinion ; and has used its pri- 
 vileges, its endowments, and its reputation, on behalf of the 
 great permanent interests of Society at large. It has 
 — if I have at all read its history aright — set a good exam- 
 ple to institutions more important, but not less assailable, 
 than itself. If this can truthfully be said of a privileged 
 society, which had Richelieu for its founder, Lewis XIV 
 for its benefactor, and Napoleon I for its re-organizer, it 
 may fairly seem probable that our current insular opinion 
 concerning literary Academies lies open to some degree of 
 revision. And, perhaps, it may appear, in the sequel of this 
 narrative, that passing circumstances add something of 
 immediate interest and piquancy to this topic, for English 
 readers, as well as for their neighbours. 
 
 The Academy's history begins with the obscure meetings 
 of a small knot of men, whose chief link of sympathy was 
 
6 SOURCES OP THE HISTORY OF 
 
 a love of literature, and a love of mutual praise. Meetings, 
 truly, of a sort to v^hich scores of parallels might be found, 
 in almost all countries, and at almost all periods. It is no 
 sooner incorporated than it is plunged into literary contro- 
 versy. The first public appearance of the new Academy 
 exhibits it as the critical assailant of one of the most famous 
 vi'orks in French literature. For some time it threatens to 
 follow in the too easy steps of the many societies which 
 have bartered servility for privilege, and praise for pelf. 
 But, after much conflict, the Academic arena becomes an 
 instrument for ventilating and for disseminating thoughts 
 which were destined to germinate far and wide, and to be 
 fruitful in ultimate good, even when seeming to aggravate 
 present evil. Most of all, it becomes, at length, one of the 
 main appliances, by means of which the greatest achieve- 
 ments of intellects that were strong enough to press through 
 all obstacles, are made to arouse, to stimulate and to cheer, 
 other intellects, not quite so robust — it may be — and still 
 struggling in the crowd, but rich in promise and in latent 
 power. And this I call the special corporate work of every 
 literary Academy worthy of its name. 
 
 Sources of the It may deserve remark that, even for French readers. 
 
 Academy's i p i -n t 
 
 the story of the French Academy, as a whole, has yet to be 
 told. Pellisson has narrated its origin and beginnings 
 with loving minuteness, and with a grace of style of which 
 even foreigners can feel the charm. But he stops, almost 
 at the threshold, with the year 1652. D'Olivet continued 
 the narrative, but with much less attractiveness, up to 
 1700. D'Alembert, as is well known, wrote a long and 
 able series of memoirs of individual Academicians, in which 
 much of the history of the institution is embodied. Other 
 materials abound, but they are widely scattered. The 
 
 liistory. 
 
THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 
 
 voluminous collections of the Academy itself, the literary 
 journals of two centuries, the lives, diaries, and correspon- 
 dence of men of letters and publicists, contain materials 
 vfhich might be made to yield vivid illustrations of the 
 progress and influence of a society whose history, in an 
 unusual degree, mirrors the intellectual life of France, at 
 the critical periods of French culture. Nor would such a 
 narrative be simply a contribution to the mental history of 
 France. The impulsive and the modifying powers of a 
 body like the French Academy are manifold, and, in their 
 results, stretch far beyond the limits of its immediate 
 sphere. The influences of such an institution upon lan- 
 guage ; upon the fortunes of books ; upon the tendencies 
 of nascent literary ambition ; upon the rewards of that am- 
 bition, when it has found its appropriate field of labour ; 
 upon the relations between the men of thought and the men 
 of action ; — these are all questions of a more than merely 
 national interest, and upon all of them such a narrative, if 
 well written, may throw valuable hght. It is a contribution 
 to what our German friends call the " History of Culture," 
 which I would gladly see made. 
 
 Here, of course, I can attempt no such task, even in out- 
 line. I must content myself with a few individual figures 
 and a few groups, chosen from among the more conspi- 
 cuous personages and incidents of the untold story. 
 
THE POUNDERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FOUNDERS THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET THE 
 
 ACADEMY INCORPORATED THE QUARREL CONCERNING 
 
 TEE CIS. 
 
 About the year 1 629, a few Parisian acquaintances began 
 i-he Con- to gather periodically around the table of Valentine Conrart, 
 
 ■ersaziom of , , i-n lliru* 
 
 Valentine onc of thc King s Secretaries, but chieiiy remarkable lor nis 
 comart. Yih&xsl uiiud, and his passionate love of literature. Conrart 
 wished to establish frequent social meetings, at which books 
 and ideas might be talked of, rather than events and repu- 
 tations. Literary Academies had long been prevalent in 
 Italy, and some of them had acquired great renown. By 
 this time, the desire for something of the same sort in 
 France seems to have been floating in the air, and might 
 have germinated almost anywhere, as chance directed. 
 Menage had not yet established his " Wednesdays," so 
 frequently mentioned in the correspondence of the middle 
 of the century, nor Mile, de Scuderi those " Saturdays " 
 which occupy so prominent a place in the chronicles of the 
 precieux and the precieuses. But CoUetet had his literary 
 gatherings, as well as Conrart. And Death had only just 
 closed Malherbe^s humble apartment, on the outside of 
 which courtly aspirants — patient, although eager for admis- 
 sion — had to wait, because, as he was wont to tell them 
 through the closed door, the chairs were all occupied within. 
 Mile, de Gournay, too, had her frequent receptions for the 
 worship of Montaigne, for the admiring perusal of her own 
 extensive correspondence, and for the elaborate defence of 
 those beloved archaisms which the rising tide of literary 
 innovation was threatening to sweep away. 
 
Tlie Hold 
 de Uambouil- 
 
 Ict. 
 
 THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 9 
 
 Still more attractive were the assemblies of the Hotel de 
 Ramboiaillet, the centre of all that was refined and fashion- 
 able in the Paris of the day, where plays and banquets, 
 surprises and masquerades, took their turn with the more 
 sober enjoyments of readings and conversation, and where 
 the puerilities and the pedantries which so easily gather 
 around a literary coterie were somewhat kept down by the 
 frequent presence of men of long experience in the council 
 and the camp. 
 
 But, despite that partial restraint, it may with truth 
 be asserted that most of the intimates of the Hotel de 
 Rambouillet left their everyday existence at its doors as 
 they entered, and became, for the time, mere personages of 
 romance. In their hands, literature lost its needful curbs 
 and its wholesome dependence on ordinary sympathies 
 and common interests. It ceased to breathe the bracing 
 air of public opinion, and was coddled into sickliness by 
 the heated and perfumed atmosphere of that splendid 
 circle, which is now chiefly remembered by bibliomaniacs, 
 when they turn over the leaves of the coveted rarity entitled. 
 La Guirlande de Julie. Even within its own generation, 
 the day came when almost the sole results of those briUiant, 
 ambitious, and long-continued gatherings were, on the one 
 hand, the interminable Clelias, and Grand Cyruses, of Mile, 
 de Scuderi, and her many imitators; and on the other 
 Les Precieuses Bidicules of Mohere. 
 
 Conrart's quiet gatherings made no pretensions to vie 
 with such gay entertainments as these. But they had their 
 share of small affectations, and many of the members were 
 versifiers of that unhappy order whose productions are The^^s^n 
 remembered only because they have been piquantly em- ^Lc'vis" 
 bahned by the satirists of another generation. The most ^'^^"''• 
 distino'uished member of the circle was Jean Chapelain, who 
 
Kiclielieu 
 hears of the 
 
 And re- 
 solves to in- 
 
 10 WHY DTD EICHELIEU INCORPORATE 
 
 would have died, as he had long lived, with the reputation 
 of being a great but very modest poet, had he not, un- 
 luckily, been prevailed upon, at length, to give his poem to 
 the press. He sold six editions within a few months, and 
 not a single copy ever afterwards. 
 
 These assemblies would probably have continued their 
 unassuming course, but for the intervention of Richelieu, 
 whose curiosity had been excited by some rumour of their 
 infant Aca- pursults, aud who, after he had made repeated inquiries 
 about the members, signified his desire to become their 
 patron, and to cause their incorporation. 
 
 Those who love to discover mean motives for pregnant 
 deeds have often represented Richelieu's anxiety to create 
 the Academy as arising from a desire to enslave literature, 
 
 corporate it. j^g^ g^y they, as he had already enslaved France. More 
 recently, Michelet has stigmatised him as bent on confining 
 the Academicians to mere " word-polishing," to the exclu- 
 sion of aU commerce with ideas. But neither charge is 
 sustained by the evidence. Nor was Richelieu usually so 
 little skilled in shaping his means to his ends. That love 
 of learning which made him take an intense interest in the 
 fortunes of the drama, at a moment when he was at once 
 strugghng with court conspiracies, and opening a new cam- 
 paign against Spain, may well suggest the possibility that 
 he foresaw something of the future of French hterature, 
 and may have anticipated the glory of at least connecting 
 his name with its history, even if he should fail in his efforts 
 to make personal contribution to its enduring treasures. 
 The bare name of a " man of letters " was always a suffi- 
 cient claim to Richeheu's courteous attention. To those 
 who bore it worthily he showed marks of respect which he 
 
 of letters, seeuis ucvcr to have accorded to mere rank. If he listened. 
 
 Riclielieu's 
 sincere love 
 
THE FRENCH ACADEMY? H 
 
 with some impatience, to strictures on his own dramatic 
 plots, he bore no grudge to his critics. When, for exam- 
 ple, he had, on one occasion, angrily torn in pieces an 
 elaborate criticism on his ' Grande Pastorale', he caused 
 the fragments to be carefully put together, spent great part 
 of the night in pondering them, and then sent to thank 
 the critic for his advice, which, he said, he would follow, 
 being convinced that " they understood such matters better 
 than he did." This was not the way of a man who wished 
 to have about him mere puppets, whose strings he might 
 pull at pleasure. 
 
 The letters-patent were drawn up in January, 1635, and 
 were sealed by Chancellor Seguier, who expressed his wish ^^^ .^^^^^ 
 to become a member. When sent to the Parliament to be oftheieuera- 
 registered, they met with violent opposition. To some of 
 the lawyers it is evident that the occasion was but a pre- 
 text. They disliked the Academy because they hated its 
 patron. Others seem really to have feared that the new 
 institution was to be used as a political weapon. They 
 imagined that, when once estabhshed, its functions might, 
 possibly, be modified at the will of the patron, until it 
 should become a dangerous rival to the old tribunals. 
 Others, again, who were in the daily habit of taking great 
 liberties with the French language, looked jealously at the ^^^ ^^^^^_ 
 rise of a corporation avowedly created for its protection, dices of 
 
 IclAVYCl a 
 
 One learned councillor — the father of the satirist Scarron — against ti,e 
 resented the proposal as an attack on the Parliament's 
 dignity. It reminded him, he said, of that Roman Em- 
 peror who, after stripping the Senate of all power over 
 public business, sent to ask its opinion as to the best 
 method of dressing a turbot. At last, Richeheu himself 
 had to write a letter to the Parhament explanatory of 
 the Academy's objects; and so, after a delay of two 
 
 tlie 
 lawyers 
 
 inst t 
 
 new 
 Academy. 
 
12 THE LETTERS-PATENT OP 
 
 years and a half, the registration was eiFected, but only after 
 the insertion of a cautious proviso " that the members of 
 the said Academy shall concern themselves only with such 
 books as shall be either written by themselves, or submitted 
 to them by the authors thereof.'' 
 
 Prejudice against the new establishment was not confined 
 to the lawyers. Strange rumours as to its purpose were 
 spread about the city. The popular cry against 'Mono- 
 poly ' which, a year or two later, raised such turbulent 
 crowds in the streets of London, and had such memorable 
 consequences, was applied in Paris to the harmless Acade- 
 micians. A diarist of the day has recorded that a man 
 who had just contracted to take a house, near that in 
 which their early meetings were held, having inquired 
 the cause of an unusual concourse of carriages which had 
 attracted his attention, refused to carry out his bargain, 
 because, said he, " I will not live in a street in which there 
 is to be every week a ' Cademie de Manopoleurs.' " 
 
 Whilst the registration of the letters-patent was yet 
 pending, the statutes had been drawn up, and had received 
 Richelieu's sanction. The only change he made in them 
 Avas to strike out a silly clause engaging each Academician 
 " to revere the virtues and memory of their Protector." 
 Pellisson has preserved a sort of preface intended to accom- 
 pany the statutes, but not published, which may serve to 
 show what were the anticipations of the original members. 
 " Our language," it is there said, " already more perfect 
 than any other living tongue, may well, in couree of time, 
 succeed the Latin, as the Latin succeeded the Greek, pro- 
 vided greater care than heretofore be taken of the elocu- 
 tion. . . . Let it be the function of the Academicians to 
 purify the language from the barbarisms it has contracted, 
 whether in the mouths of the populace or in the throng of 
 
THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 13 
 
 the law-courts (dans la foule du Palais), and amidst the 
 impurities of chicanery ; or by the bad customs of ignorant 
 courtiers ; or by the abuses of those who write it corruptly, 
 or who utter in the pulpits what ought, indeed, to be said, 
 but is said in a wrong way." 
 
 The number of the Academicians was fixed at forty. 
 In order to an election or an exclusion, twenty must be 
 present ; the votes must be taken by ballot ; and the ma- 
 jority must not be less than four. A perpetual secretary, 
 a director, and a chancellor, each serving for two months, 
 and re-eligible, are also to be chosen by ballot. The choice 
 of new members is to have the sanction of the Protector. 
 The only other restrictive condition is that the members 
 shall be " de bonnes mceurs, de bonne reputation, de bon 
 esprit, et propres aux fonctions academiques." The ordi- 
 nary meetings are to be held once a week. The chief 
 functions of the Academy, it is enacted, shall be " to labour 
 with all possible care and diligence to give fixed rules to 
 the language, and to make it more eloquent, and fitter for 
 the treatment of the arts and sciences." The best authors 
 are to be distributed amongst the Academicians, in order 
 that such rules may be elicited. A Dictionary, a Gram- 
 mar, a systematic treatise on Rhetoric, and another on 
 Poetry, are to be composed. A discourse on some subject 
 chosen by the Academy is to be made, weekly, by each 
 Academician in turn. All works submitted to the Aca- Thespedui 
 
 I , -1 -A* c duty iinposcLl 
 
 demy's judgment are to be referred to the examination or on the Aca- 
 a committee, who shall report to the whole body, for its ''™^- 
 decision. 
 
 Almost as soon as Richelieu's proposal had been accepted, 
 sixteen new Academicians were added to the original eleven. 
 Boisrobert, one of the Cardinal's confidants, was zealous in 
 beating for recruits, and, in the opinion of some of his 
 
14 CHAPELAIN AND BALZAC. 
 
 colleagues, was only too successful. Chapelain was more 
 chary of the honour, but was very anxious to enlist Balzac, 
 that prince of phrasemaking epistolographers, who, for a 
 spondence of whllc, coquctted with the proffer. " Whatever you may 
 with Bai™. say," he wrote to his inviter, " I am afraid you will not 
 persuade me. It wUl be difficult for me to adore that 
 rising sun you speak of. I am told that it is to be a 
 tyranny ruling over minds, to which we book-makers must 
 give blind obedience. If that be so, I am a rebel." 
 Chapelain replies that it is not so, at all ; that the alarms 
 are quite groundless, and that his correspondent must be 
 elected immediately. The affair now wears a new aspect. 
 Balzac begins to perceive that " this new society will do 
 honour to France, will make Italy jealous, and — if I have 
 any skill in horoscope — will soon become the oracle of 
 civilized Europe." But he still complains that the 
 Academy includes some members who are only qualified 
 to act as " beadles " to it, and begs that at least there may 
 be two classes of members, so that " the patricians shall be 
 separated from the mob." He is forced, however, to be 
 content with a place among the crowd. Other new mem- 
 bers are elected, during 1G34 and 1635, which raise the 
 number to thirty-nine. The most distinguished of them 
 were Voiture, De Vaugelas, Cureau de la Chambre, and 
 Pierre Seguier, Chancellor of France. The Academy began 
 the exercise of its public functions amidst a literary storm, 
 the circumstances of which are, perhaps, curious enough to 
 warrant a digression. 
 
 The appearance of The Cid, a few months before the re- 
 gistration of the Academy's letters-patent, had been wel- 
 comed by the public with enthusiasm. But the public had 
 been almost as enthusiastic, a little earlier, about Mairet's 
 Sophonisbe, and even about Tristan's Marianne. The nov 
 
THE CONTROVEESY ON THE GIB. 15 
 
 proverbial " C'est beau comme le Cid," might, perchance, 
 prove as short-hved as the " C'est du Godeau " had been. 
 At all events, the many rivals whom Corneille's success 
 threw into the shade, were eager to prove to the pubhc that 
 what pleased it so mightily ought not to have pleased it at 
 all ; that the very subject vs^as totally unfitted for the drama, 
 and the execution opposed to all the "rules of art." 
 Georges de Scuderi was foremost in taking the field. He 
 had already written a dozen tragi-comedies, abounding in 
 affectation, puerilities, and bad taste of all kinds, but re- 
 garded by himself as precious gifts, for which the pubhc 
 was bound to be the more grateful, as coming from one of 
 a family in which, until then, " on navait jamais eu de 
 plume quau chapeau." He began his attack by undertak- 
 ing to prove that "the plot of The Cid is worthless;" that 
 " the play offends against the chief rules of dramatic poetry, 
 and that it contains a multitude of bad verses ;" and he 
 finally alleges that " almost all such beauties as it has are 
 stolen." Lest any one should think it possible that some 
 spice of envy might be mixed up with so trenchant a criti- 
 cism, he conjures the reader " to believe that so base a vice 
 is not in my nature. Being what I am, if I had any am- 
 bition, it would aim at something loftier than the renown 
 of this author." Such a programme and such an assevera- 
 tion exhibit the assailant. He was silly enough not to stop 
 even there. He sent Corneille a letter which read like a 
 challenge. "There is no need," replied the poet, "to 
 ascertain whether you or I be the most noble or the most n^ne, ana 
 vahant person, in order to judge whether or not The Cid be lepiy 
 a better play than The Liberal Lover. I am not ' a man 
 of explanations' [d'eclaircissemens), so that you are safe on 
 that side." The warlike critic then betook himself to the 
 new Academy, and solicited its judgment between the 
 
 Scuderi's 
 cartel to Cor- 
 
16 WHY DID EICHELIEU CONDEMN TRI! GIB? 
 
 dramatist and the reviewer^ The Academicians were in no 
 haste to interfere. They could foresee many phases to such 
 a contest, and some perils to their infant society. Chapelain 
 shared in the public admiration suflBciently to assure one of 
 his friends that he had lost a great treat in being absent 
 from the performance of The Cid, and to write to another 
 that, in his opinion, the subject, the ideas, and the embel- 
 lishments, were alike deserving of the applause they had 
 received, although he "could not but deem the author 
 fortunate in not having to stand the test of the more culti- 
 vated criticism of Italy." It seems to have needed the 
 intervention of the Cardinal himself to obtain a formal 
 warrant for an Academic inquiry into the respective merits 
 of Corneille and his critics. 
 wiiy aid The aspersions which have been so lavishly cast on 
 contiemnMB almost all thc evcuts of Richelieu's career, are not lack- 
 ing even to this little incident. Corneille had served on 
 that poetic staff with whose five members the Cardinal 
 was wont to work on his dramatic projects. It is very 
 likely that the poet may have corrected the statesman's 
 rough drafts somewhat too freely. But to infer that 
 Richelieu bore him mahce on that score is gratuitous. 
 Unsupported by evidence, its probability is opposed by 
 what is known to have happened on a similar occasion. 
 The still more foolish story that Richelieu had offered 
 Corneille 100,000 crowns for the MS. of The Cid,—&nA 
 silence, — carries its own refutation. Two aspects of that 
 famous tragedy, which are altogether independent of its 
 literary worth, might have served to explain Richelieu's dis- 
 taste, without any ascription of base motives. It defended 
 duelling,* when the energies of the government were tasked 
 
 * In the verses whicli begia — 
 
 " Lea satisfactions u'apaiseiit point une ame," &c. 
 
THE FRENCH ACADEMY AND THE CIB. 17 
 
 to put down a practice whicli had grown into a pestilence. 
 It glorified Spain, when Prance had to struggle with her. 
 Very easily may the critics of another age sever the in- 
 trinsic beauties of a play from the timeliness or untimeliness 
 of its appearance, the merits or demerits of its personages, 
 and the logical or illogical character of their arguments. 
 Eut dates are important. The Englishman who should 
 have thrown a poetic halo over Spanish heroes, just at the 
 moment when other Englishmen were arming against a 
 Spanish fleet, would scarcely, I think, have found an audi- 
 ence so impartial as that which greeted The Cid with 
 tumultuous applause, in the 'year of Corbie,' as 1636 was 
 significantly called. 
 
 However this may have been, the Cardinal's wishes 
 were now known. The chief obstacle in the way of 
 their gratification lay in that clause of the statutes 
 which forbade the Academy from sitting in judgment 
 on any works not submitted to it by their author. 
 Possibly this proviso may have been inserted expressly 
 with a view to the pending controversy. Corneille's con- 
 sent was therefore indispensable. Boisrobert plied him 
 with both arguments and entreaties ; in reply to which he 
 obtained only excuses, in the shape of compliments. The 
 occupation, said Corneille, was unworthy of the Academy's 
 dignity. Scuderi's pamphlet deserved no answer from 
 him, and therefore could not deserve to occupy the time of 
 the Academicians. Such an inquiry, too, would be a bad iiie lomse 
 
 -. . T taken by Cor- 
 
 precedent, since it would give to the meanest writers the ndiie. 
 notion that directly any great work was produced, they were 
 empowered to enter into a controversy with the author in 
 presence of the French Academy. But, in June, 1637, 
 vphen told that the Cardinal was very desirous that he 
 should comply, he answered : " The Academicians may do 
 
18 EICHELTEU'S COMMITTEE. 
 
 as they please. Since you tell me tliat the Cardinal will 
 be very glad to see their opinion, and that it wUJ amuse 
 His Eminence, I have nothing more to say." 
 
 Upon this small concession, the Academy appointed a 
 Committee for the examination of the play, and of Scuderi's 
 Observations, consisting of Chapelain, Bourzeys, and 
 Desniarets. Two months afterwards, Chapelain writes to 
 Balzac: "The task could not have been given to a man 
 less capable than I am of satisfying the public expectations. 
 .... What embarrasses me is that I am forced to 
 offend both great and small, the Court and the Town, and 
 myself too, in dealing with a subject which ought not to be 
 treated by us. There is nothing more odious, nothing 
 which a discreet man should more carefully avoid, than 
 publicly to find fault with a work for which either the 
 author's reputation or his good fortune has won general 
 approval." Corneille, on the other hand, assures Bois- 
 robert that he is " looking with much impatience for the 
 Academy's opinion, that he may know what course to 
 take. Till then," he adds, with a sharp stroke of irony, 
 " I can only work with some misgiving, and shall not Jcnow 
 how to employ words with certainty." When the criticism 
 was submitted to Richelieu, he approved of its substance, 
 but thought that it wanted the graces of style. " You 
 must," he said, "throw in a few handfuls of flowers." 
 This business of embellishment was entrusted to some 
 worthy members, who were so prodigal of their flowers as 
 to bury the argument beneath them, and to anger the 
 Cardinal. He sent to desire that some of the Academi- 
 cians would attend him forthwith. When the audience 
 was given, he addressed himself more particularly to 
 Chapelain (who has left a curiously minute account of the 
 interview), and with so much animation as to seize him by 
 
THE FRENCH ACADEMY AND TRE CIB. 19 
 
 the button of his coat, " as one does unconsciously, when 
 very earnestly bent on convincing an opponent." The 
 result was that Chapelain had again to revise the whole. 
 When the task was finally completed, the chief author was 
 able to say with a good conscience, " I believe the doctrine 
 to be sound, and, in my opinion, equity and moderation 
 prevail throughout." 
 
 Les Sentiments de I'Academie Fran(^aise sur la Tragedie 
 du Cid accorded high praise to many portions of the work. 
 The " irregularities " of the plot were pointed out, as, by ^^^ if^^- 
 Academicians, they could scarcely fail to be. But it was • senthnenta 
 added that " even the learned ought to tolerate indulgently Fiancaiae.' 
 the irregularities of a work which would not have had the 
 good fortune to please the multitude so highly, had it not 
 possessed uncommon merits. The freshness and vehe- 
 mence of its passion, the force and delicacy of many of its 
 thoughts, and that inexpressible charm which is mingled 
 even with its faults, have obtained for it high rank amongst 
 French poems of its class. If its author does not owe all 
 his reputation to his merit, neither does he owe it all to 
 fortune. Nature has been sufficiently bountiful to him to 
 excuse fortune for being prodigal." So moderate a judg- 
 ment, of course, satisfied neither author nor critic. Scuderi, 
 indeed, aflfected to thank the Academy, but the affectation 
 was evident. Corneille did not attempt to conceal his dis- 
 satisfaction. Whilst the Academy had been deliberating, 
 the controversy had spread. Pamphlets had come from 
 the press in a shower. Under such circumstances, the 
 great dramatist altered his views. Instead of standing 
 coldly aloof, he sought the opportunity of defending his 
 work in person before his judges, and resented its re- 
 fusal. He then carried De Castro's play, with his own 
 hands, to the Cardinal, that he might convince himself how 
 
 The restills 
 of tlie contro- 
 versy. 
 
20 COENEILLE'S ANIMOSITY TOWAEDS EICHELIEU, 
 
 small were the obligations of the French Cid to the Spanish 
 one. When the Sentiments appeared he left Paris, and for 
 a time ceased to write. In January, 1639, Chapelain tells 
 Balzac that " Scuderi has at least gained thus much by the 
 quarrel, that Corneille has taken a disgust at his art. His 
 vein seems to be exhausted. I have tried as much as I 
 could to excite him to avenge himself, both on Scuderi and 
 on his protectress, by creating some new Cid, which shall 
 again win universal praises, and prove that beauty may be 
 independent of art ; but I cannot succeed. He talks only 
 of rules, and of the answers he could have made to the 
 Academicians, if he had not been afraid of offending the 
 authorities {les puissances). He even puts Aristotle 
 amongst the apocryphal authors, when he cannot adapt 
 him to his own views." But the depression was only tem- 
 porary. And if Boileau sought antithetical point rather 
 than plain truth, when he said — 
 
 " Au Cid persecute, Cirma doit sa naissance," 
 
 it is at least probable that the time of rest, like the time 
 of adversity, had its sweet uses. Corneille, however, 
 never forgot the mortifications which this controversy had 
 brought upon him. He never forgave Richeheu for the 
 share he had taken in it. The Cardinal had liberally be- 
 friended him. He had removed the obstacles which 
 impeded Corneille's marriage. He had accorded letters- 
 patent of nobility to the poet's father. Trivial as such a 
 grant looks beside the trophies which Corneille has won 
 by his own intellect, there is evidence that by himself it 
 had been highly prized. So little did it appear to the 
 poet's friends that he had real cause of complaint against 
 the Cardinal, that, when Richelieu died, we find one of 
 them, Sarrau, expressing his hope that Corneille would 
 
AND ITS PUBLIC EXPEESSION. 21 
 
 testify his regret by writing something that should be 
 worthy both of the author and the subject ; and adding, 
 " Many will have cause to regret him, but none more than 
 you. Had he lived longer he would have crowned you 
 with the wreath of Apollo. You have lost an illustrious 
 eulogist of your works, although, in truth, you stand in no 
 need of eulogy," &c.* The author of The Cid felt httle 
 inclination to undertake the task which his correspondent 
 pressed upon him. His momentary feelings dictated the 
 verses : — 
 
 " Qu'on parle mal ou bien du fameux Cardinal, 
 Ma prose ni mes vers n'en diront jamais rien ; 
 n m'a fait trop de bien pour en dire du mal, 
 n m'a fait trop de mal pour en dire du bien :" 
 
 and it would have been to his honour if his latent animo- 
 sity had never led him to forget the self-imposed restraint. 
 Scarcely was Lewis XHI dead, when his resentment 
 against the Cardinal burst forth in verse. Describing the 
 reign of the monarch — 
 
 " Dont la seule bonte deplut aux bons Franpois," 
 
 he proceeds to say that, by his bad choice of a Minister, 
 
 " L'ambition, I'orgueil, la taine, I'avarice, 
 Armes de son pouvoir, nous donnerent des lois." 
 
 This makes a sorry contrast with the dedicatory epistle 
 prefixed to Horace three years earlier, or with the laudation 
 contained in Comeille's discourse at his reception into the 
 Academy, four years later. 
 
 * Claudii Sarrami Epistolce, Ep. 49 (Araus. 1654, pp. 65, 66). 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE EARLY ELECTIONS AND EXCLUSIONS. PATEU.— 
 
 BOSSUET. MANAGE. RACINE. — THE BATTLE OP THE 
 
 ANCIENTS AND THE MODERNS. — THE EXPULSION OF THE 
 
 ABB]^ DE SAINT PIERRE. THE ACADEMIC IMPEDIMENTS 
 
 AND ULTIMATE TRIUMPHS OF MONTESQUIEU AND VOL- 
 TAIRE. 
 
 With increased numbers came ceremony and routine. 
 
 The first Academician who addressed a formal speech of 
 
 thanks to his colleagues, on his reception, was Olivier 
 
 Patru, who succeeded Porcheres d'Arbaud, in 1640. The 
 
 The recep- compUment pleased, and became a practice. For several 
 
 tion flpeecli of , i * i i t 
 
 ouricrPatrn. jcars, thcsc spccchcs were little more than common-|)lace 
 compliments, sometimes hyperbolical, but usually having at 
 least the merit of brevity. Everybody came in for his 
 modicum of praise. Patru himself, practised orator and 
 cool-headed lawyer as he was, went the length of assuring 
 his colleagues that "it is enough for one age to have seen 
 forty persons of such eminent merit and virtue. So great 
 an effort must needs have exhausted Nature." Patru had 
 been elected at the cost of the Abbe d'Aubignac, who had 
 eagerly sought admission. D'Aubignac avenged himself 
 The ai,r,r. by rcpcatcd endeavours to obtain a charter from the King 
 
 tive attempt «,,,.■, " 
 
 10 create a tor the establishment of a second Academy. Far from 
 71y. "" sharing Patru's admiring conviction that Nature must needs 
 
EAELT ELECTIONS INTO THE FEENCH ACADEMY. 23 
 
 have exhausted her powers in pivin^' birth to the existiu.' 
 forty, he .tesures tlte Kiru' that Paris can boa.st a thonsaod 
 such, and that the " kingdom at lar^e could rai^e an ariuy 
 of them." But in vain did he seek tci draw His Male-tv's 
 attention to the fact that ab-ead\- he himself, and certain of 
 iiis friends, had " carried on their conferences for two years, 
 in mutual communication of their studies, ' and that with- 
 out goiri;z so far as to allege that these coi.f.:reiJcei included 
 men as nobly impassioned for good letters £j=. any in the 
 kingdom, they might, at least, assert themselves to be not 
 unworthy cadets of the French Academj.* D'Aiibignac's 
 " Acadejfde des heUes lettres," so it was called, had to be 
 content with its weekly meeting in the Abbe's lod:::irj?5, 
 and with a public assembly once a month at the Hotel 
 Matignon. 
 
 ITie pre-eminence in hyperbolical flatter}' — one episcopal 
 example, which will claim notice presently, excepted — was 
 attained by Scuderi, whom the Academy elected not long cue 
 after its reception of the poet who had conferred on him an 
 immortality so different from that which had dazzled his 
 imagination. He began his speech thus: — "He, gentle- 
 men, who conceived that the Roman Senate was competed 
 entirely of kings, would doubtless have taken you for gods, 
 having regard to the subhmity of your minds and the im- 
 mortality of your works." When he came to eulogize 
 Richelieu, he assured his auditors that " to speak of things 
 simply as they are, all the figures of arithmetic are insufficient 
 to express his greatness." But this did not satisfy him. 
 After he had already sent his intended speech to the Secre- 
 tary (in accordance with the rules), he wrote to request the 
 insertion of an additional sentence to this effect : — " The 
 
 * BUcourg au Boy mr VEstoihVAsemerd dune aeeonde AcatMmie dang la 
 VUle <fo Parig, pwr Meteire BieAe^n, Abb^ d'Aubi^a -. 
 
 Atadeooc . 
 
24 BOSSUET'S ADDRESS IN 1671. 
 
 Academy may justly designate itself porpUyrogenetic, since 
 it was born in the purple of Cardinals, of Kings, and of 
 Chancellors." Conrart's modesty, or his good nature, for- 
 bade him to comply with the request, so that the new 
 member's discourse was shorn of part of its brilliancy. 
 The address Thc custoDi of a formal reply on behalf of the Academy 
 
 of Bossnet, at i <• i a t • ■ i i 
 
 his reception to thc speech 01 thc Academician-elect does not appear to 
 have been established until the reception of Bossuet, in 1 67 1 . 
 That prelate's speech is one of the first in which a specific 
 subject is expressly though (in his case,) briefly treated. 
 Taking for his theme the French language, its rapid variation, 
 its capabilities, the means of developing and systematizing it, 
 and the duties in that direction imposed on the Academy, 
 the discourse itself became an illustration of its own argu- 
 ment. Charpentier, in replying for the Academy, dwelt 
 on another theme, in a way which contrasts piquantly with 
 the ordinary tenor of the Academical discourses of the first 
 thirty years. "There prevails," he said, "in the great 
 world, I know not what contagion of display and pride 
 which is strangely antagonistic to the meekness of philo- 
 sophy. . . . The court has its populace as well as the town. 
 The purple sometimes covers mediocre or even base souls. 
 The personal merit which finds its reward within . . .is 
 something higher than grandeur or wealth." But the gay 
 audience, which for almost two centuries has been accus- 
 tomed to set in so brilliant a frame the sombre business of 
 an academical reception, was not yet present to profit by 
 the lay sermon of M. Charpentier. It was preached only 
 to his colleagues. 
 
 At this time, the Academy still met in the Hotel Seguier. 
 Charles Perrault, whose admission followed that of Bossuet, 
 originated the proposition that the reception should be 
 public. It was also at his suggestion that a double scrutiny 
 
MliNAQK AND QUEEN CHRISTINA. 25 
 
 — first by iiaiiRia written on slips, and then by the usniii 
 black imd white balls — was 8ul)stituted for siinple ballot, 
 in the elections. The Academy ixicicived in 1()72 a royal 
 p;rant of apartments in the Ijouvro ; and it was there 
 tlnit the lii'Ht piddic reception- that of Mccliier — was held, 
 in the i'ollowiiiij; year. 
 
 Thns far, the choice of new members had been made Thong((i- 
 from time to thno with little dissension or scandal. The - Mr.M„K„ 
 most conspicuons of the nnanccuissful candidates was "c'LiHi!!!™" 
 Mena<rc. When Christina of Sweden visited the Academy '"''''■•y "•""" 
 in 1668, her first question was, "Why is M. Menage not 
 here?" To which Eoisrobcrt replied that certainly his 
 literary merits entitled him to a scat, bnt that his condnct 
 had made him nnworthy of it. Perlwips, both his good and 
 his bad (pialities wonld luive rcndcnul him a tronblesomc! 
 nicnd)er. His easy disposition made him, like Chapelain, 
 a man of many friends, and his qxiick rcscntmenl-s, a man 
 of many qnarrels. When Christina herself had given him 
 permission to introdnce to her any " nmn of merit " of his 
 ncquaintan(;e, her audicncci-chamber became so thronged 
 that she exclaimed, " This M. Menage mnst know a mar- 
 vellons nnnd)er of iieoplc of merit." J lis UcqiieJe dcfi 
 Dictioiiiiaircs bitterly oll'endcd many of the Academicians, 
 liabci't de Montmor tried to persuade his colleagues that 
 the very assault was a reason for admission — " on the 
 principle which disposes people to compel a rake to marry 
 the girl vvliosii fair fame lias suffered from him." Long 
 afterwards, when Menage was drawing near his end, it was 
 intimated to him that opposition had ceased, and that a 
 new candidature would be successful. "No," said he, "it 
 wonld now be a marriage in ctircm/'s, little to the credit 
 of either of us." 
 
26 WAR OF ANCIENTS AND MODERNS. 
 
 The first occasion on which the new member undertook 
 that review of the career and productions of his immediate 
 predecessor which has become so characteristic a feature of 
 the receptions, was a notable one. Racine presided at the 
 admission (January, 1685) of two Academicians — Bergeret, 
 in the place of Cordemoy ; and Thomas Comeille, in the 
 place of Pierre Comeille. Bergeret gave a brief account of 
 the works and character of the Academician whose place 
 he was called to fill. Thomas Comeille restricted himself, 
 on this head, to the few and simple words which became 
 so near a relative. The speech of the day was that of 
 Kacine. Rising beyond the sphere of that petty malice 
 which had tried to make praises of Comeille turn to his own 
 disparagement, and anticipating comparisons between 
 " ancients and moderns " which were about to become a 
 war-cry among the writers and critics of France, and to 
 raise its echo amongst ourselves, he claimed for Comeille 
 an equal rank with iEschylus and Sophocles ; and he 
 bore his testimony to that modesty of demeanour towards 
 his colleagues which made the author of Cinna " leave his 
 laurels at the Academy's door,'' and take an unobtrusive 
 share in the debates, even when they tumed on dramatic 
 questions. 
 
 The literary strife which led to the production of the 
 Parallele des Anciens et dea Modernes and its tribe of 
 followers, seems to have had its origin in an Academic 
 discussion between Racine and Perrault, some two years 
 after the reception of Thomas Comeille — in which, as we 
 have seen, Racine himself had no hesitation to place a con- 
 temporary on a level with the tragic poets of Greece. He 
 now ironically complimented Perrault on the ingenuity 
 with which in his Siecle de Louis XIV he had sought to 
 raise above the ancients contemporaries of a calibre quite 
 
PERRAULT AND BOILEAU. 27 
 
 unlike that of Corneille, and he coupled with the compli- 
 ment a remark that it was not likely that the paradox 
 would deceive anybody. Perrault was piqued into an 
 elaborate exaggeration of his flattering estimate of the 
 writers of the day, the best of whom, after all, he was least 
 able to appreciate. Thus it happened tliat a contest, tri- 
 vial in itself, was entered upon at a needless disadvantage. 
 To institute a comparison between the greatest writers of 
 all antiquity, and the Chapelains, the Scuderis, and the 
 Saint Amants, of the seventeenth century, was so ludicrous 
 that ere long Fontenelle, the only man of eminence who 
 had supported Perrault, made his escape. " I," said he, 
 " do not belong to the party which claims me for its chief." 
 The brunt of the battle lay between Perrault and Boi- 
 leau. But La Bruyere dealt a few vigorous strokes for the 
 honour of the ancients, and it chanced that he was elected 
 an Academician whilst the paper war was still raging. In Penauit and 
 his address he drew some neat comparisons between men 
 in whom the Academy had real cause to glory, and certain 
 of the Roman poets, but pushed the question no further. 
 Charpentier replied, and took occasion to extend the 
 ground, and to give it anything rather than a literary turn : — 
 " Not to speak of the thousand admirable inventions which 
 have been discovered within the last two hundred years," 
 " let us look," he said, " at the things which lie at this 
 moment before our eyes. This magnificent building of 
 Tlie Louvre — is it not as fine as the most superb edifice of 
 the ancients ? Is not the art of war as well understood 
 now as then ? Are the sieges of Luxembourg, of Mons, 
 and Namur, less remarkable than those of Tyre, Saguntum, 
 or Carthage? And, as to eloquence, if its object be to 
 please, to carry the mind away captive, and if it be also 
 trae — as we know by daily experience — that our orators 
 
28 THE RECEPTION OF BISHOP DE CLERMONT 
 
 do really attain those ends, it is useless to question whether 
 or not they are eloquent, still more useless to dispute 
 whether their eloquence is greater or less than that of the 
 ancients. For my part, I would as lief ask if the sea is as 
 salt now, as it was in the time of the Roman Republic." 
 
 On the death of Perrault, his seat was sought by the 
 Abbe Chaulieu, a consummate specimen of that epicurean 
 section of the French clergy which so long kept its ground 
 beside the Fenelons and the Bourdaloues, redeeming the 
 time not abandoned to sloth by epigrams and anacreontic 
 verses. Some of the shafts of Chaulieu's wit had pierced 
 Tourreil, who, when the vacancy occurred, happened to be 
 Director. He resolved to defeat his assailant by assuring 
 the Academicians that the President de Lamoignon would 
 feel honoured by their suffrages. The President was 
 elected, but he disavowed his proposer, and declined the 
 seat. The Academy then made a bye-law that the pre- 
 liminary visits of a candidate, which, theretofore, had been 
 usual but not obhgatory, should for the future be exacted. 
 Armand de Rohan, Prince Bishop of Strasburg, was elected 
 in Perrault's stead. 
 
 Few of the gaudy days of the French Academy have 
 offered a more attractive entertainment to the Parisian 
 loungers than did the reception, in 1694, of Fran9ois de 
 Clermont Tonnerre, Bishop of Noyon, the prelate of whose 
 excessive vanity Saint Simon has given us so curious a 
 The recep- pictuTc. Elcctcd partly as one of those decorative members 
 oTthecourtiy who scrved to link the Academy with the Court, and 
 Royon. "' Partly, it is to be feared, by way of malicious sport, he 
 determined to do honour to the occasion by a most elabo- 
 rate discourse, which bristles with the great names of 
 universal history. Moses and Constantine, Tertullian and 
 Solomon, Alexander the Great and St. Ambrose, are 
 
TONNEKRE INTO THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 29 
 
 mixed pell-mell in an oration which is doubtless unique. 
 After exhausting eulogy in praise of " Lewis, so amiable 
 for the charms of his person," and of " Lewis, so admirable 
 for the greatness of his reign," he implored his colleagues 
 " not to wonder at the zeal of this discourse. Every phrase 
 is a tongue of flame ; mouth and heart are in unison. And 
 it would be easy to justify them by the example of Gregory 
 Nazianzen, insatiable in the praises of St. Basil the 
 Great." The reply of the Abbe de Caumartin was a 
 masterpiece of dexterous satire, each shaft of which took 
 effect on every auditor save one. The poor bishop, however, 
 listened, without a moment's misgiving, to the assurance 
 that "whilst the church sees in your episcopal charges 
 sound doctrine and pure morality, we Academicians see, 
 also, elegant allusions, well-sustained allegories, and a 
 methodic arrangement, not elsewhere to be found, without 
 which it would be diflBcult to follow ideas so magnificent 
 as yours." The good-hearted prelate, it is said, had no 
 conception of the emotions which must have so severely 
 tested the polished demeanour of that gay assembly, until 
 he found, a day or two afterwards, that his reception had 
 become the table-talk of the town. Even then, his anger 
 was but momentary. He was as proud as ever of his 
 Academical dignity, and even sought opportunities to pro- 
 mote the interests of his colleagues. 
 
 At this period, the Academicians whose careers, however 
 distinguished, were not literary, and the merely court- 
 members, had become so numerous as to induce dissatisfac- 
 tion among some of the workers. D'Olivet, the second of 
 the Academy's historians, assigns, as one of his reasons for 
 refusing to comply with the request that he would carry 
 his narrative beyond 1699, the fact that " the number of 
 noblemen and prelates has increased in our society. Now, 
 
1 owerekept 
 
 30 THE NAMES THAT AEE WANTING 
 
 with a few exceptions, there is no pleasure in writing about 
 them. One is sure to oiFend their families unless one 
 narrates everything they did, however little connected with 
 Academical pursuits." On the other hand, it is just to 
 bear in mind that certain really great names of the period 
 we have been glancing at — names whose absence from the 
 roU is now so salient — rarely, if ever, indicate exclusions in 
 Tiie men favour of courtiers, soldiers, or prelates. One of the 
 Academy's rules, established not very long after the founda- 
 tion — and, whether wise or unwise, certainly not personal — 
 made residence near Paris a necessary qualification. Des- 
 cartes, Rotrou, Regnard, were usually remote from the 
 capital, and thus by rule ineligible. Antoine Arnauld — 
 
 " Le plus savant mortel qui jamais ait 6crit," — 
 
 is said to have refused a seat, after it had been proffered to 
 him. La Rochefoucauld also stood aloof by choice. The 
 exclusion of Pascal, Malebranche, and Moliere depended 
 on other powers, royal or social, not on the Academy. Had 
 llichelieu lived a little longer, it is probable that one social 
 disqualification, at all events, would have been removed. 
 But of all the men thus excluded, the Academy might 
 have said, as it actually said of one of them on a memorable 
 occasion : — 
 
 " Bien ne manque a leur gloire ; ils maoaquaient a la notre." 
 
 Other men of humbler rank in the literary hierarchy, but 
 superior in point of talent to many Academicians, have 
 been excluded, sometimes by considerations— irrespective 
 of talent — which no Society has the right to overlook, as 
 in the instance of Dufresnoy ; sometimes by the combina- 
 tion of imprudence with misrepresentation, such as time 
 only could fully dispel, as in that of Jean Baptiste Rousseau. 
 The case last named is a notable one. Those bitterly 
 
IN THE EOLL OF THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 31 
 
 satirical couplets which Rousseau had so recklessly flung Jean sapt. 
 about him in his youth were surreptitiously collected and ^ZZkis 
 reprinted when their author sought a seat in the Academy. "^"""'°°- 
 The anonymous collector was base enough to forge addi- 
 tional verses, still more offensive than the real ones, and 
 such as were sure to increase animosity in quarters where 
 the poet had most cause to dread it. Discovering that a 
 certain Academician had helped to circulate these verses, 
 he rashly charged him with the forgery, in the absence of 
 all evidence. The controversy became envenomed, and 
 eventually Rousseau found himself condemned by a decree 
 of Parliament to perpetual exile. This was in April, 1712. 
 Four years afterwards, letters of recall were obtained, but 
 he refused to avail himself of them, insisting on his right 
 to a full acquittal. Twenty-two years more were passed 
 in irksome banishment, sometimes at Brussels, sometimes 
 in other parts of the Netherlands. His exile was occa- 
 sionally — but not always happily — enlivened by visits from 
 comrades in literature. At one such visit, Rousseau read 
 to Voltaire his Ode to Posterity. " I am afraid, my friend," 
 observed his caustic auditor, " that that letter will never 
 reach its address." At length, Rousseau sought, but with- 
 out success, to obtain the favour he had formerly refused. 
 He ventured to visit Paris, furtively, and then returned to 
 Brussels to die. 
 
 It would be easy to point to other cases in which candi- 
 dates were opposed from discreditable motives ; sometimes 
 from petty jealousies and personal dislikes ; at other times 
 from that spirit of coterie which is the especial bane of 
 corporations, whether learned or unlearned. Any impartial 
 survey, however, of the history of the French Academy 
 must, I think, result in the conviction that the exercise of 
 
32 THE CHAEACTER AND THE EXCLUSION 
 
 the power it has really possessed has, in the main, been in- 
 dependent and honourable. The war between the privileged 
 few within, and the wits without, is too amusing a resource 
 to be suffered to die for want of ammunition. But the 
 most satirical of the lampooners, on the wrong side of the 
 door, have sometimes lived long enough to become lam- 
 pooned Academicians, seated on comfortable cushions, in 
 their turn. The cool sagacity which prompted Pontenelle 
 — " his heart all brains, Hke his head " — ^to address to the 
 Academy, after five defeats, a polished Discourse on Patience, 
 is not vouchsafed to every man. 
 
 The worst blot on the Academy's escutcheon is its ex- 
 pulsion of the Abbe de Saint Pierre. That was a dastardly, 
 but, happily for its fame, an exceptional deed. As an 
 Academician, Saint Pierre had distinguished himself by 
 his zealous exertions to make the society both more power- 
 ful and more useful. He strove to obtain the substitution, 
 on its public days, of appreciations of the lives and works 
 of the great men of Finance, for insipid disquisitions on 
 " the inconveniences of wealth," or " the advantages of a 
 good reputation." Remembering what sort of reading had 
 first stirred his own youthful pulses to a lofty and pure 
 ambition, he was eager to make the recollection fruitful 
 for the youth to come. He also strove for a re-modelling 
 of the Academy, with a view to systematic division of 
 labour, which, in some respects, anticipated part of Napo- 
 leon's ultimate organization of the Institute. Saint Pierre's 
 whole life, indeed, was an anticipation. The Cardinals 
 Dubois, and the Regent Dukes of that day, might very 
 naturally call his projects of political and social reform 
 " a good man's dreams," but he himself might have said, 
 with Schiller's Marquis Posa — 
 
THE PARASITES IN THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 33 
 
 " Das Jalirlmndert 
 1st meinem Ideal niclit reif. Ich lebe 
 Ein Bui-ger derer welche kommen werden." 
 
 Saint Pierre's offence consisted in an honest and out- 
 spoken condemnation of some of the base acts of the 
 Government of Lewis XIV, and especially in his strong 
 censure of that adulation of the King himself, which found 
 almost daily expression in the epithet "Lewis the Great." 
 In a certain Discours sur la Poly synodic, he had taken 
 occasion to say, in words which deserve to be remembered, 
 " We may well call him ' Lewis the Powerful,' or, ' Lewis 
 the Terrible,' for none of his predecessors was so powerful ; 
 none made himself so terrible. But those who possess 
 even moderate discrimination will never call him ' Lewis 
 the Great ;' will never confound power with true greatness. 
 Por great power, unless it has been employed in procuring 
 great benefits for mankind in general, and for its subjects 
 and neighbours in particular, will never make a man esti- 
 mable. In a word, great power alone will never make a 
 great man." 
 
 The attack upon Saint Pierre was led by the Cardinal 
 de Polignac. At that time, courtiers and prelates were in 
 unusual force in the Academy. The sitting (April, 1718) 
 was a very stormy one. Another Cardinal (Fleury, then 
 Chancellor of the Academy) strongly condemned the in- 
 criminated passages, and artfully contrived to give a sort 
 of complexion of generosity to the proposed censure, l)y 
 reminding the Academicians that the monarch whose fame 
 had been assailed by their fellow-member was dead, and a 
 benefactor. Should it be said of them that they were so 
 venal, so wholly given up to selfish interests, that their 
 eulogies lasted exactly as long as their patron was living 
 and powerful ? Then, and afterwards. Saint Pierre vainly 
 
3-i THE EXPULSION OF ST. PIERRE. 
 
 tried to be heard in liis defence. He was expelled. His 
 place was not filled up. On his death, he was allowed a 
 funeral service, but was refused the customary biographical 
 honours at the reception of his successor. Not until 1775 
 was this additional stigma on the Academy removed. But 
 no occasion could have been more fitting for the rehabili- 
 tation of Saint Pierre's memory than was the reception of 
 Malesherbes. 
 
 Saint Pierre's expulsion may be regarded as the first of 
 a long series of incidents in the quarrel of " philosophers" 
 and ' anti-philosophers,'' in which the Academic strife did 
 but reflect what was passing in other and larger spheres of 
 French life, and is therefore very interesting to students of 
 history, but most of which must here be passed over in 
 silence. The contests, however, about the election, first 
 of Montesquieu, and afterwards of Voltaire, claim some 
 notice. 
 The candi- Montcsquicu offered himself as candidate for a seat 
 Moutequieu. which was vacated in 1727. In the Lei/res Fersanes he 
 had criticised the reign of Lewis XiV with a severity far 
 keener than Saint Pierre's. But it was easier to suppress, 
 for the time, a score of such men as the amiable author of 
 the Discours sur la Polynynodie, than to cope with one 
 Montesquieu. The great thinker who was to open the way 
 for such momentous changes in the social polity of France, 
 was also the pet author of his day. Everybody read and 
 quoted him. The booksellers ran about imploring all their 
 acquaintances to write them some Lettres Persanes, as 
 though to write Lettres Persanes had been as easy as to 
 sell them. Unhappily, there were in this famous book 
 some sarcasms on religion which the author's own later and 
 better thoughts condemned. His enemies were quick to 
 seize their advantage. The Academy was officially informed 
 
MONTESQUIEU AND THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 35 
 
 that the King would not confirm its choice, should that 
 choice fall on the author of the incriminated book. Mon- 
 tesquieu resented this interference by declaring that, if the 
 threatened prohibition were enforced, he would seek in a 
 foreign land the protection and the honours denied him 
 in his own. Another step which he is said to have 
 taken, in this conjuncture, has been very differently de- 
 scribed. 
 
 According to Voltaire's version of the affair, Montesquieu 
 caused his book to be rapidly reprinted, with the omission 
 of the obnoxious passages, and without any mention of the 
 alterations he had made. He then in person carried the 
 book to the Minister. D'Alembert repeats this account, 
 substantially, but asserts that the passages suppressed were 
 really spurious. Another contemporary writer names two 
 persons who shared, he says, in the authorship of the book, 
 in its original and anonymous form. But he throws no 
 spark of light on the then curious phenomenon that the 
 work of three authors should bear, so strikingly, the im- 
 press of one mind. Montesquieu's more recent biogra- 
 phers, on the other hand, deny the story altogether. 
 Whatever may have been the precise incidents, it is certain 
 that there are portions of the Persian Letters which their 
 author, himself, condemned, as his mere juvenilia, and 
 nobly atoned for in his later writings. It is also certain 
 that the obstacle to his election was removed in an honour- 
 able way. The man who, with his dying breath, said in 
 reference to this very book: "I wiU yield everything to 
 Religion, but nothing to the Jesuits," was not the man to 
 win his seat in the Academy by a mere subterfuge. 
 
 Voltaire, in his turn, had to fight his way. He offered gie 
 himself as the successor of Cardinal de Fleury. At first, Tf vol 
 
 The struj- 
 and ulti- 
 mate triumph 
 
36 SCIOLISM AND CREDULITY OF VOLTAIEE. 
 
 it was found not very easy to obtain a presentable opponent. 
 But Boyer, Bishop of Mirepoix, who had long played the 
 part of Cerberus at the Academy's door, was indefatigable 
 in his efforts. Witticisms rained upon him, imtil the poor 
 prelate at last made formal complaint to the king that " M. 
 de Voltaire made him pass for a fool, even at foreign 
 courts," and had to put up with a new sarcasm, from the 
 royal lips. But he had the satisfaction of keeping Voltaire 
 out until 1746. 
 
 At this time, Voltaire had not yet reached those final 
 cross-roads which present themselves, alike to the men of 
 books and to the men of action, at a certain stage in their 
 career — when the upward or the downward course comes 
 to be fixed for ever. He had already published La Hen- 
 riade — after once casting it into the fire, in his hot im- 
 patience of outspoken criticism — together with Zaire, 
 Me I ope, the Lettres Antjiaiscs, and the Viede Charles XII. 
 In addition to his marvellous talent and versatility, he had 
 displayed only too much of his thin sciolism, of his morbid 
 vanity, and of his angry "philosophy." But his better 
 Angel had not yet given him over to that evil genius who 
 was soon afterwards to inspire the wretched sophistries, 
 and the puerile credulities, of the Dictionnaire Philoso- 
 phique ; the scarcely sane egotism of the Correspondance 
 avec d' Alemhert ; and the scarcely human crapulousness of 
 La Piicelle. I'he man whom prelates and courtiers were 
 now unscrupulously opposing had, indeed, already exhibited 
 the shallowness as well as the brilliancy of his intellect. 
 But he had not yet openly committed himself to the task 
 of overthrowing Christianity, by dint of scurrilous jests 
 and puny diatribes. He was already a profane scoffer, 
 and a sceptical bigot. He was not, as yet, the mere Vitru- 
 viiis of ruin. Only at a somewhat later period in his 
 
VOLTAIEE AND THE > ilKXCH ACADJ-JMY. «7 
 
 <;afnsef was he, in tke happ} words of I3}7o;j, to multiply 
 himr^lf aujoiig mankind — 
 
 " 'J>-<J Ppoteng crf't>j.';ir talerxt* J wfeJIst hk o«ii 
 iii-'r^th'A Baot* in ridienle ; wlikl), a« tibe w md. 
 lilijw vi'ij.«fe it listed, hxyiiiii aJl i.Jaux^. proae, 
 iV^w t<> o<;rtiu-<>w a i'j(A, -aad bow to diake a throae." 
 
 ^\'^lea he preeeuted \ikomW at the Acaderx)/s dcx>r, he 
 «t(xxi on ground which ha had cultivated usefulh', and had 
 feiiriy fiiade his own. If literary ability was ever to win 
 the literacy laurel, his pretensions were just. 
 
 In ^'oltaire's Jiand* the customary Academical eulorries 
 were cut t^lioit. He dwelt, at his reception, oii the growth 
 of the language and the literature of f i-dnce, makin;/ small 
 account of all writers antecedent to Corneille. Those are 
 not truly gfx>d books, he said, which do not pass the fron- 
 tiere. Before Gorn'-ill'-, the only author who had attra/.tec 
 the attention of the few foreigners conversant with French 
 was Montaigne; and long after .Marot, the language, even 
 t'j Frenchmen, was but a domestic jargon, enlivened by a 
 few pleasantries. Corneille wajs the first to make it re- 
 s[xjctf;d abroad, and he did this just at the time that 
 Kichelieu was beginning to win respef-t for the crown. 
 Both, together, spread the fame of France over Euroj>e. 
 After CoHKiille come, not ijidee<l great geniuses, but l>etter 
 writers. 
 
38 BUFFON ON STYLE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BUPFON AND THE COURTIER PARADIS DE MONCRIF. — THE 
 WAR OF ADMINISTRATORS AND ACADEMICIANS. — COURT 
 
 DISGRACE OF THE RHETORICIAN THOMAS. CHAMFORT 
 
 AND MIRABEAU. THE ACADEMY DISSOLVED. 
 
 Seven years later, Buffon followed Voltaire's lead 
 by an address, pithy and luminous, on "style;" which 
 became authoritative. He showed what should be the aim 
 of an ambitious writer, and how it should be pursued. He 
 hit blots in the common methods of education, which are 
 neither peculiar to Prance, nor defunct with the eighteenth 
 century. A tolerable ear, he says, suffices for the avoid- 
 ance of dissonant words; the reading of poets and orators, 
 for a mechanical imitation of poetical cadence, or of rhe- 
 torical artifice. But imitation is never creative. Ideas 
 must precede sentences. What is to be written should be. 
 first wrovight out clearly in thought. Everything which is 
 merely ornamental and redundant should be looked at with 
 distrust. These are among the counsels which the author 
 of the Histoire Naturelle gives to those who seek distinc- 
 tion by the pen, and they have lost nothing in point or 
 relevancy. 
 
 It chanced that the courtier Paradis de Moncrif presided 
 at this reception. Of him it was said that, at Versailles, 
 he was a devotee; -at Paris, a man of pleasure. On this 
 occasion, he seems to have brought his courtly devotion to 
 town with him, and to have given it a very unseasonable 
 
THE WAR BETWEEN PAST AND FUTURE. 39 
 
 airing. The Doctors of the Sorbonne had just attacked 
 both Montesijuieu and Buffon, and the attacks had re- 
 coiled. Moncrif dragged into his official reply a very 
 superfluous eulogy of those venerable doctors. There was 
 then no opportunity of rejoinder. But, immediately after- 
 wards, the publication of a new volume of his great work B,.ffo.,v 
 enabled Buffon to give to the pubHc — in two letters writ- l^lw'l 
 ten by the Sorbonne theologians themselves — consummate ''*"'' 
 examples of the " style " which should be detested. Mon- 
 tesquieu, on his part, in the Defense de V Esprit des Lois, 
 gave himself the satisfaction, not so much of overthrowin <>• 
 his assailants, as of making them glide softly to the 
 ground, amidst the laughter of the bystanders. 
 
 The war thus so repeatedly forced within the walls of 
 the Academy between Past and Euture — between the old 
 generation, so reluctant to admit that one phase, at least, 
 of its work is over, and the new generation, so eager to con- 
 found, in undiscriminating onslaught, what is really effete 
 in the world with what is merely disensed — was diversified 
 by many incidents, often ludicrous, sometimes tragic. The ^ 
 inevitable Mirepoix brought on the Academy a flood of rieii 
 epigrams (but no " Discours sur la Patience"), by his 
 obstinate hostility to the election of Piron. Epigrams were 
 lavished, too, on one of the new members, the poor Count of 
 Clermont, resulting in the violent death of an unlucky epi- 
 grammatist, and in the verification of one of his sarcasujs* in 
 an unexpected fashion. The noble Academician never again 
 
 * Trente-neuf joints a zero, 
 Si j'entend bien mon numero, 
 N'ont jamais pu faire quarante. 
 D'oii je conclus, troupe savante, 
 Qu'ayant a vos cotes admie 
 Clennont, cette masse pesante, 
 Oe digne cousin de Louis, 
 La place est encore vacante. 
 
 qui 
 
40 THE MINISTERIAL ATTACKS ON THOMAS. 
 
 appeared amongst his colleagues. In like manner, the 
 notorious Le Franc de Pompignan— one of the many 
 assailants of the "Philosophers" who entirely failed to 
 fasten on those amongst their characteristics which were 
 most reprehensible, and which made the name a palpable 
 misnomer — was so completely immolated with the meal 
 and salt of the satirists, that he forsook Paris, and passed 
 almost a quarter of a century in seclusion. Meanwhile, 
 that growing influence of the men of letters on Society 
 which every passing day made more unmistakeably evident, 
 was scornfully ignored by the ostensible rulers of France. 
 Its very mention within the walls of a literary society was 
 treated as a crime. 
 The minis- Thomas, a man of real abihty, but whose rhetoric was 
 ana censuies wout to Tun away with his discretion, had drawn in an 
 onThoma^. ^cademical oration of 1767 a highly- coloured picture of 
 that " quiet study in which the man of letters sits, meditat- 
 ing, and summons before him Justice and Humanity," 
 and so on. Then, that magnification of the literary office 
 was thought rather ludicrous, but not dangerous. Three 
 years afterwards, and with somewhat better taste, he pur- 
 sued the same theme in an " Moge de Marc Aurele." By 
 the public, this eulogy was rapturously applauded ; by the 
 Government, it was instantly suppressed. A few days later, 
 when officiating as president at the reception of the Arch- 
 bishop of Toulouse, Thomas dwelt, with all his force, upon 
 til e reciprocal duties of thinkers and of statesmen, and upon 
 the necessity of harmonising action with opinion. This time, 
 the MS. was seized, and the orator silenced. He was 
 forbidden to speak in the Academy, and was threatened 
 with severer penalties if any portion of that discourse should 
 appear in print or be circulated in manuscript. But such 
 topics continued to be treated by other minds, and to be 
 
THK CV.SmUAmV Mi Jiiii yUKSCH AKAMMT. U 
 
 m(jmftA^r''j!i hv Vtkti r'rpr'rmi/^o, 'Hib \Ha:mMist att<.iftpt to 
 cm*l( (M'^M hy i\mitmf \m>iJimtA s'/j^onoii '■.■<%nv^t, t'-rAmm 
 i'MWtm inmintti'Mi vAi<-n wa ihxi the ^I'-M Ydiowj riK.-w*- 
 
 — »K/ti,'i irof/jr, bo*. i» j(r;tv<; ).Jfj//;r«- v - "How i» it i/mihUi 
 that tw'ji i4 l-;l1>?r« c^u/ U5 v;'JJIj/>ij:», wh'jri t}j<,-y a/-*;; u/jver 
 
 In th<; i/inrmi of thi* c/nAW'-X, th'j o!'J C'^Aiftoahip of 
 
 cut out f* piii-.vii!':, '^jti(lii'j(itiHij'/ry of fJif; Jfi'jukitioo, fror/j 
 ari '^>i\')'/y of Cfwrl/^e V f/f Frar«<>;.-f Th'; crowrjifig irici- niw *»i^ 
 lU'jiiiti t\)<: \<>u</ >Xni'/j^U; -fiK-. ti)<5 ••jjppro-'AisJor) of Ia \\'Ar\>iyr> i^j^i^j.^ 
 /'^'/h'j;i/ of l'<:a'don. j» wa«, fetjffcly, in fit f^^nKW/', that the ^'='-****- 
 ilUMriom \ir'-Mxi/; whom Lo'v>i>, XJV had vainly tried f/j 
 ()i.;-.;^;w>;, j-iiould T><j haV;ful to >*"ich a 'cM/xx-fti^^r and to »iich 
 ;» <y/tiH,. 'J'hi» hMppr';;v;-,ioii was followed up by a royal le-t,ter, 
 whi/;h \in\>ri'i',>Mi\ on the Acad';rnieian>. their duty to /rjak/; 
 a diH>;r''.'d <-\mi\cm hi filling up vaeancieri; rmm-A, with 
 praise, two Aeadeniieianh v»hor-e " wi»dorn and moderation" 
 UuA tHcr'iU'A i-'jyA pen^vion^; and announwd hi» Maje-hty's 
 grfw;ioui< wilUngnert-i V; grant niniilar rewards t/j »u/;h of 
 their </)Hf/<if//i<A " m AioAd amuhU their virtue*," JJut 
 there were no rj<^ earididat/A for venal penhionx. Or/e, at 
 lea?;t, of the two favoured A/;ademieiafi^, felt «ha»ne at the 
 prai^e'rt of l/;wr(* XV, and, denpit/; alJ preearjtion», unpa- 
 latable iniibn htill found utteran^x; from Aeademie benches. 
 In I77fi, the Aeademy won, from ith exiled incjfi\)('S at 
 V('xu'',y, aeomplirnent very little U; it» eredit. " D'Alenibert 
 and our other Uv;M\n," wr'M Voltaire to i/i llarpe, " are 
 
 f V'/)ti>./r<!, (;'/rr(-.»i)i/ii/l/Mir/'., tl'i Aii'^iriti, 177*}. 
 
42 THE CONPLICT OF SEBASTIAN GHAMFORT 
 
 doing a patriotic work in daring to defend in the Academy 
 Sophocles, Corneille, Euripides, and Racine, against Gilles, 
 Shakespeare, and Pierrot le Tourneur." Le Tourneur had 
 dared to call Shakesi^eare the " Divinity of the Stage ;" 
 " the highest type of true tragic art.'' But, after all, it is 
 from the vile pen of an English scribbler that Voltaire 
 borrows his closing taunt : " Rymer," he says, " had good 
 ground to assert that Shakespeare ' was a wretched ape/ "* 
 Dunng the reign of Lewis XVI the most notable re- 
 ceptions were those of Malesherbes (1775), La Harpe 
 (1776), Ducis (1779), Chamfort (1781), and Target (1785). 
 " Chamfort had been nursed in the Academy's lap. While 
 yet " young, poor, and proud" (as Grimm describes him, 
 in August, 1764), he obtained a poetry prize for his 
 Epitre d'un pere a son fils, which was followed by several 
 other like successes. When received as an Academician, 
 he eulogised that chivalrous old France of which his prede- 
 cessor, Saint Palaye, had been so enamoured, but with a 
 warmth of colouring of which Saint Palaye was incapable. 
 Broad, indeed, is the contrast between this discourse and 
 the flimsy diatribe in which Chamfort, in the early days of 
 the Revolution, attacked his foster-mother as "useless, 
 ridiculous, despicable, and degraded ; " given over to 
 " servility," and shamefully implicated in " that most in- 
 famous of trades, the traffic in the liberties of nations." 
 
 At that time, violent abuse — if copious enough — went 
 far towards supplying the most pitiable lack of argument. 
 And Chamfort's mind had already lost its balance. He 
 has himself somewhere said — speaking of his own sensual 
 passions — " I have destroyed them, as a furious rider kills 
 
 * Voltaire and D'Alembert, Cm-respondcmce, 7 Oct., 1771. [Edition 
 of 1837, X, 705.] 
 
WITH THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 43 
 
 his horse." But he had really destroyed something higher 
 and nobler. Chateaubriand scarcely needed to express his 
 araazenaent that one who had so large a knowledge of man- 
 kind, should yet be so fierce a partisan. It is as easy to chamcterof 
 
 1.,.. .1, , . -. -,,, Cliamfort. 
 
 emasculate, by vicious indulgence, the mmd, as the body. 
 Chamfort was of that unhappy temper which had rather 
 rule in hell, than serve in heaven. Truth and falsehood, 
 to a mind of that strain, vary with the impressions of the 
 passing hour. At first, an impetuous promoter of the 
 Revolution, at all hazards, he at length tried to guide it ; 
 and when he found it too strong for him, he assailed it 
 Avith the utmost bitterness. He tried to rule the French 
 Academy, and failing to achieve even that, he sought its 
 destruction. He knew that the primary functions of the 
 Academy made it, implicitly, an antagonist of despotism. 
 He knew that it had powerfully aided in raising the literary 
 profession to responsibility and comparative independence. 
 He knew that some of the best minds in France had been 
 proud of its fellowship. The internecine war which had ^is attack 
 
 . . on the Aca- 
 
 been waged between the Academy and the corrupt minis- demy. 
 tries of Lewis XV was within his own memory. Its 
 history had been the theme of his own warm and repeated 
 praises. But when he praised it, he liad eyes only for the 
 bright side of a long and varied career. When he vilified 
 it, he could see nothing save the dark spots. 
 
 Accusation, in revolutionary times, is often but another 
 word for doom. It was planned that a second denunciation, 
 also written by Chamfort, should be uttered in the National 
 Assembly by Mirabeau, who, but a few years before, had 
 used very different language in supporting the pretensions 
 of Target to a seat. Mirabeau's death intervened, but the The lUsso- 
 Academy's fall was not long delayed, and it carried with it rclTcmy.' ° 
 that of all similar corporations throughout France. The 
 
44 SUPPRESSION AND ULTIMATE P.EV1VAL. 
 
 seal of the Republic was affixed to its doors in August, 
 1793. The foresight of Morellet, then secretary, had, by 
 a " pious larceny " — as he calls it in his Memoirs — previ- 
 ously secured the Charter, a nearly complete series of 
 Minutes, and other MSS. Eighty portraits of Academicians 
 were successfully concealed within the Louvre itself, until 
 the dawn of better days. A decree, passed during the last 
 throes of the Reign of Terror (July, 1794), declared the 
 property of the suppressed Academies to be National pro- 
 perty. 
 
 The " Constitution of the year III." decreed the creation 
 of a National Institute " for the collection of discoveries 
 and the improvement of the arts and sciences." Hence, 
 eventually, arose the restored French Academy, but that 
 restoration formed no part of the original design. 
 
TJIE TRIZES OF THE FKENCIl ACADEMY. 45 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE ACADF.MIC PHIZES AND THEIR RESULTS, UP TO THE 
 
 DATE OP THE REVOLUTIONARY DISSOLUTION. CREATION 
 
 A.XD SliliSKQUKNT REORGANIZATION OP THE INSTITUTE. 
 RETURN OP THE SURVIVING ACADEMICIANS. 
 
 Thus far I have sought to exhibit something of the 
 work and influence of this remarkable institution, chiefly 
 by noticing the more cons[)icuous among the men who 
 received its honours, the themes chosen for its public dis- 
 ■|)lays, and its attitude toM^ards the government of the day. 
 I have yet to mention the " prizes " which it either estab- 
 lished or administered. Of another and very prominent 
 function — the pre|)aration of the Dictionnaire de V Academie 
 Frnvv^ai^te — nothing can here be said. Few books have a 
 more curious history, but to treat it fairly would require 
 time and space not now available. I indulge the hope of 
 writing something on that subject hereafter. 
 
 Balzac, as early as the year 1655, established the 
 " Eloquence prize," the themes of which were, for a long eloquence 
 time, limited to religion and ethics. Saint Pierre's unsuc- 
 cessful suggestion, that it should be given to biographical 
 eulogies of the great men of France, was revived, with 
 better fortune, by Duclos, in 1758. Before this date, the 
 laureated names are, Colin, Roy, Ragon, Nicolas, and the 
 like. After it, we find Thomas, La Harpe, Necker, Garat, 
 Lacretelle, De Gerando, Fabre, Villemain. If another list 
 could be framed of those youthful minds to whom such 
 
 Balzac'B 
 oquenc 
 prize. 
 
pjiulPellia- 
 son and the 
 
 46 THE FRENCH ACADEMY 
 
 brief and vigorous biographies of Eenelon, Montesquieu, 
 Pascal, Malesherbes, have given a spur — 
 
 To scorn deliglits and live laborious days, 
 
 vi^e should probably have a very apposite vindication of the 
 " utility " of the institution, in this department of its work. 
 Nor is it the Academy's smallest merit that, whilst glorify- 
 ing intellectual power, it has repeatedly testified to the due 
 subordination of literature to life. 
 
 Paul Pellisson followed Balzac's example, by founding a 
 Poetry prize. " Poctry pHze." His owH vcrscs are Very poor, but mucH 
 of his life is a worthy theme for poetry. His faithful 
 service and adherence to Fouquet cost him a long imprison- 
 ment. In the Bastille he wrote those defences of his 
 fallen master which are the best, as well as the best known, 
 productions of his pen. There, too, he accomplished that 
 musical education of a spider which has become so famous. 
 When released, he made, for the rest of his life, the anni- 
 versary of his freedom, the liberation day of several poor 
 prisoners. Madame de Sevigne might well say of him, 
 that "although he abused the privilege men have to be 
 ugly, a noble soul dwelt in that uncouth form." Por one 
 of these Pellisson prizes, Voltaire was an unsuccessful 
 candidate. Sixty-five years afterwards, " Voltaire" was the 
 theme of another. The last prize given before the sup- 
 pression was the first triumph of Pontanes. 
 
 Creation of Xhe crcatiou of the Institute, decreed in 1794, was not 
 
 the French ™i ■ 
 
 Institute. effected until nearly the close of 1795. It was to have 
 144 members, in three classes ; I, Physical and Mathema- 
 tical Sciences ; II, Moral and Political Sciences ; III, 
 Literature and the Pine Arts. The ideas of the period are 
 characteristically reflected in the apportionment of 12(5 
 
AS A CLASS OF THE INSTITUTE. 47 
 
 members to Sciences and Arts, and of 18 members to 
 Literati.re. In April, 1796, the Institute was installed in 
 the Louvre. The Statutes had directed that the alternate 
 sittings of each class should be pubhc. Within a fortnight 
 of the installation, a new by-law was imposed on the 
 Institute, which abrogated that proviso, because " too much 
 publicity was attended rather with inconvenience than 
 advantage." It was significantly added, that " this new 
 regulation shall not be printed." Next year, five members 
 of the Institute — Baithelemy, Carnot, Pastoret, Sicard, 
 and Fontanes — were sentenced to be " deported '' to 
 Cayenne, and they were not restored to their seats until 
 after Napoleon's triumph on the 18th of Brumaire. 
 
 At the end of 1802, the Institute ceased to retain the 
 form which the Convention had assigned to it. Proud as 
 Napoleon was of its fellowship, and ostentatiously as he 
 wore its uniform, he had never hked its organization. In 
 his eyes a " Class of Moral and Political Sciences " was 
 open to two weighty objections. At the best, it would be 
 but an elaborate machine for wasting time in the discussion 
 of " unprofitable theories." If it chanced to fall under the its reor- 
 lead of " wrong-headed men," it would turn into a sort of ^^ma. ^ 
 political opposition, likely to be none the less troublesome 
 for wearing a mask. The purely literary section of the 
 Institute, he, at this time, regarded with greater com- 
 placency. He once said, with that felicity of expression 
 which, in his best moments, so often gave wings to his 
 thoughts, " I love the sciences. Each of them is a beautiful 
 apphcation of a part of the human mind. But literature 
 is the mind itself." Napoleon never approved of the plans 
 of that somewhat pretentious little circle to which his 
 brother Lucien and his sister Eliza belonged, in conjunction 
 with Suard, Morellet, and Eontanes, and in which the 
 
4S THE SrBYTVOBS OP THE OLD FRENCH AGADEMT. 
 
 restoration of the old Academy, unaltered, was advocated. 
 But he was wiUing to give hteratture freer scope in the 
 In^ltute, and anxious that the great task of the Dictionaiy 
 should be Tigoronslv prosecuted. 
 
 With these views, he re-organized the Institute in 
 January, 1803. Four classes were assigned to it : — ^I, 
 Physical and Mathematical Sciences ; II, French Language 
 and Literature ; ' IH, Ancient Languages and Literature ; 
 rV', Fine Arts. The Class of Moral and PoUtieal Sciences 
 was nominally merged in the Class of French literature,- 
 but was, in fact, suppr^sed. "A Class of literature," 
 said Napoleon, on this occasion, " must needs be td?ial, 
 and a ' Class of Moral Sciences ' pedantic, if thev can be 
 really separated. Writers who are not thinkers, and 
 thinkers who are not writers, wiU soon cease to be eitb^ 
 the one or the other." To the budding Emperor, a better 
 argument would have been less convenient. The "Foitf " 
 of the old Academy was to be the number of the new 
 literature class, and its survivors — with one exception — 
 were to resume their seats. The total number of members 
 of the Institute was raised to 165. 
 The nm™ AmoHg the surviving Academicians, the names of La 
 
 of trc SHT- , 
 
 rm,'! of the Haipe, Suard, Ducis, Target, St. Lambert, and Defille, are 
 oM Acakmy. pojjgpicuous. Oue of thcm, the Count of Bissy, had been 
 an Academician in 1750. The new members included 
 Volney, Garat, Cambacer^, Cabanis, Bemardin de Saint 
 Pierre, Sieyes, Merlin, Roederer, Fontanes, Segur, Portalis, 
 ^larie Joseph Chenier, with others of less note. The most 
 prominent of the subsequent elections, during the reign of 
 Napoleon, were those of Maury, of Destutt de Tracy, and 
 of Chateaubriand. 
 
 Cardinal Maury was the only survivor of the "Forty" 
 wlio had been exchided from the Institute at its reorgani- 
 
THE RE-ADMISSTON OF CARDINAL MAURY. 49 
 
 zation. He was then among the zealous enemies of Na- TUe re-aa- 
 poleon. But the hoped-for reverses in the Emperor's caXid 
 fortunes tarried, and Maury's ardour cooled. Growing *^'""^' 
 weary of his long exile at Montefiascone, he at length 
 wrote to Napoleon, and obtained an interview at Genoa. 
 In 1806, he was permitted to return, and in 1807 was 
 elected into the Institute to fill the place of Target, who 
 had been his junior in the old Academy. 
 
 Maury's reputation drew a large audience to his recep- - 
 tion. He was known to be an orator as well as a wit. 
 Curiosity was heightened by the singularity of the circum- 
 stances. A man who had taken his seat in the Academy 
 as successor, under Lewis XV, of the unlucky and still 
 unforgotten Le Pranc de Pompignan, was now, under 
 Napoleon, to biographize Target, whose weaknesses he was 
 thought little likely to spare. The excitement which prevailed 
 in certain circles is curiously shown, by the fact that Target's 
 admirers had a vindication of him (especially in relation to 
 his refusal to plead for Lewis XVI at the bar of the Con- 
 vention), printed beforehand, and distributed at the doors 
 of the Academy. But the precaution was needless, and 
 the public disappointment great. The Cardinal injured 
 no reputation save his own. Avoiding Target, he took for 
 his theme a certain Abbe de Radonvilliers — who had died 
 imeulogized, during the Academy's suspension — the dull- 
 ness of whose career quite overpowered Maury's own 
 vivacity. All that his ill-willers felt to be necessary for 
 the gratification of their spite, was the circulation, in the 
 newspapers, — amongst the Parisian occurrences of the day 
 — of the announcement that " On the 6th instant, an emi- 
 nent personage drowned himself, not far from the Pont-des 
 Arts." 
 
50 SCOTTISH OEIGIN OF DE TRACY. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE LIFE, THE PHILOSOPHY, AND THE ACADEMICAL RECEP- 
 TION OF DESTUTT DE TRACT. HIS MINOR WRITINGS 
 
 AND HIS DEATH. 
 
 Scottish Antoine Louis Claude Destutt de Tracy was the eldest 
 Tmcy. ° " son of Claude Charles Louis Destutt de Tracy, Marquis of 
 Tracy, and a Peer of France, and of Marie Eiiiilie de 
 Verzure. He was born on the 20th of July, 1754. De- 
 scended as he was from a long line of distinguished soldiers 
 — the founder of whom had come to France, from Scotland, 
 with John Stewart, Earl of Buchan, and, like him (althoiigh 
 without winning, as Buchan won, the leading-staff of a 
 Marshal of France), fougM with distinction on behalf of 
 Charles VII — he entered the army at an early age, and 
 in 1776 had already attained the rank of Lieutenant- 
 Colonel in the Royal Regiment of Horse. In 1788, he 
 took an active part in the proceedings of the Provincial 
 States of the Bourbonnais ; was elected by the nobility of that 
 province a member of the States General, and distinguished | 
 himself in the Constituent Assembly by his labours on ^ 
 questions of educational and social reform. With Lafayette, 
 he served on the frontier, as commander-in-chief of the 
 cavalry ; and when that general left his army, De Tracy 
 too retired to Auteuil, where he exchanged the life of a 
 legislator and a soldier for that of a student. 
 
 At the outset, his attention was chiefly bestowed on the 
 
DE TRACY'S PEEIL IN THE EEVOLTJTION. 51 
 
 physical sciences, and especially on chemistry. During the 
 Reign of Terror, he was dragged from his retirement, and 
 confined in the Carmehte Prison. Here he read Locke and 
 CondiUac ; meditated deeply on the processes of his own 
 mind; and, on a memorable day, the 23rd of July, 1794 
 (5 Thermidor, year II), whilst the dismal corridors of the 
 old monastery were echoing with the long roll-call for the 
 guillotine, in which he had reason to expect that at any 
 moment he might hear his own name, he marked the out- 
 lines and wrote down the main propositions of that system 
 of " Ideology," which it was to be the grand aim of his 
 unexpectedly prolonged life to embody in detail. Four 
 days afterwards, Robespierre fell, but many months elapsed 
 before De Tracy could return to his home. 
 
 At Auteuil, the fascinating widow of Helvetius was long 
 the centre of a brilliant circle, in which the philosophers of 
 the day played no unimportant part. Sieyes, Volney, 
 Garat, Cabanis, De Tracy, met there habitually. The two 
 last named were soon linked in close friendship. Together, 
 they became members of the newly founded National In- 
 stitute, at whose meetings the dissertations in which De 
 Tracy first gave to the world his views of ideology, alter- 
 nated with those in which Cabanis worked out, physiologi- 
 cally, the famous theory of Condillac, that all our intel- 
 lectual operations, whether passive or active, are but 
 transformed sensations. 
 
 An eminent historian of recent philosophy in Prance has 
 characterized and discriminated the respective labours of 
 the three most eminent members of this Auteuil circle, by 
 calling Cabanis, the physiologist ; Volney, the moralist ; 
 and De Tracy, the metaphysician, of the sensational school.* 
 
 * Damiron, Uistoire de la Philosophie en France au XIX' Steele, 
 i, 109. 
 
52 THE "ELEMENTS OF IDEOLOGY." 
 
 To marshal into rigid order, our " means of knowing," to 
 elicit tlie laws which govern, and the secret links which 
 connect, the formation, the expression, and the deduction 
 of our ideas, was the task which De Tracy had in the Car- 
 melite Prison marked out for himself, or for his unknown 
 successor. " Ideology is a branch of Zoology ;" " to think 
 is to feel ;" such are the epigrammatic axioms in which he 
 expresses his characteristic thoughts. 
 TheEiements According to De 'JVacy, our intellectual impressions 
 are of four kinds : (1.) Those resulting from the present 
 action of objects upon the nervous system ; (2.) Those re- 
 sulting from the past action of objects, by means of an 
 influence superinduced upon that system; (3.) Those of 
 things which have mutual relations, and admit of coinpari- 
 Ron ; (4.) Those which arise from our wants, and impel us 
 to satisfy them. When our sensibility receives impressions 
 of the first class, it simply feels; of the second, it recalls 
 feeling, or remembers; of the third, it feels relations, or 
 judges; of the fourth, it feels desire, or tvills* These 
 propositions are worked out in clear and vigorous laiiguage, 
 and with a clinching logic to which nothing can be denied, 
 if tlie premises be granted. 
 
 The Projet d'Elemens d'Ideologie was well received, 
 especially in those Central Schools of the Republic to which 
 the author had expressly addressed himself. Several pro- 
 fessors made it a text-book for their lectures. But ideology 
 was soon banished, by authority, from the curriculum of 
 the Central Schools, to its author^s great dissatisfaction. 
 The second part of the Memens, containing an elaborate 
 and valuable treatise on grammar, appeared in 1803. The 
 third part — a treatise on logic — followed two years later. 
 Ten more years elapsed before the publication of the fourth 
 
 * Elemens d'Ideologie, i, 39 — 74, seq. 
 
Discussion 
 
 THE " ELEMENTS OF IDEOLOGY " DISCUSSED. 53 
 
 and of a part of the fifth divisions of the work, which were 
 published together in 1815. The bulk of this latter 
 volume is, in substance, a treatise on social economy. Had 
 the author's plan been carried out, the Memens d'Ideologie 
 would have comprised three main divisions, each consisting 
 severally of three parts. Thus, (1.) The introduction of 
 Ideology ; (2.) the Grammar ; and, (3.) The Logic, together, 
 formed (I) a " History of our means of knowing." In like 
 manner, treatises on (4.) Social Economy ; (5.) Morals ; (6.) 
 Government; formed (II) " The application of our means 
 of knowing to the study of the will and of its results ;" and 
 finally, treatises on (7.) P%S2C5 ; (8.) Geometry; (9.) Cal- 
 culation [calcul) ; formed, collectively, (111.) " The applica- 
 tion of our means of knowing, to the study of beings extra- 
 neous to ourselves " [l' etude des etres qui ne sont pas nous).* 
 
 The Memens d'Ideologie became the occasion of a on ideology 
 remarkable discussion in the French Academy. De 'l^^^^ 
 Tracy entered it, in 1808, as the successor of his old friend 
 Cabanis. He made the eulogy of Cabanis an elaborate 
 glorification of this " sensational " philosophy,- — according 
 to which the house is identical with the tenant. " All our 
 ideas come from the senses." " To think is to feel." " In 
 the nerves, we have the man." By the Director of the day, 
 Count de Segur, these doctrines were differently regarded. 
 He reminded De Tracy of his own saying that " Every 
 system of metaphysics is a romance." Surely, it could not 
 be his intention to erect into a " system " — certainly as 
 much a romance as the rest, but stripped of their attrac- 
 tions — doctrines, of which the smallest mischief would be 
 to destroy all charm in the present, and all hope of the 
 future; to reduce glory into organic combinations, and to 
 resolve noble passions into coarse sensations ; thus " lovver- 
 
 * Elemens d'Ideologie, iii, 520 — 52] . 
 
The sha- 
 dows of old 
 
 54 THE SHADOWS OP OLD AGE. 
 
 ing human existence ; disenchanting earth ; and depopulat- 
 ing heaven." Tracy's speech had its full share of 
 complimentary phrases for " the hero who is the admiration 
 of the universe." He who had danced with Marie Antoi- 
 nette,* and had fought by the side of La Payette, did not 
 foresee that he had yet before him the task of moving, in 
 the French Senate, the dethronement of Napoleon. 
 
 Like so many other vast designs, both in Philosophy and 
 Literature, and like so many of which the interruption 
 has entailed a much greater loss on the world — it was the 
 fate of the Elemens d'Ideoloc/ie to be scarcely half com- 
 pleted. " Nothing more of all this is now permitted to me. 
 This fragment is my last writing,"f are the touching words 
 with which he breaks off.]: The gradual coming on of 
 blindness, which after a time became total, to be followed 
 by an only partial restoration of sight, would probably not, 
 of itself, have sufficed to daunt the perseverance of so reso- 
 lute a man. Indeed, he so underwent a very painful 
 operation, as to show that the fortitude which had been 
 evinced so signally in the Carmelite Prison, was still intact. 
 But the mind had lost its elasticity. Its dearest friendships 
 had been broken by death. The days had come when the 
 strongest is forced to say, " I have no pleasure in them." 
 
 * The famous " Ideologist " had once been known in Paa-isian circles 
 as " le beau danseur de la reine." 
 
 t Elem&ns d'Ideologie, v, 523. 
 
 J It is stated by the continuators of Qufoard {La lAUeratme Frm- 
 faise Contemporaine, iii, 521), that Compagnoni's Italian translation, 
 published at Milan in 1819, contains an additional portion of the fifth 
 part, which has not appeared in Fi-ench. I am unable either to vei-ify a 
 statement so opposed to M. de Tracy's express assertion, or to deny it. 
 But no such additional matter appears in the subsequent translation of 
 a, selection of De Ti-aoy's writings in the Collezione dei '^' 
 Metafisici (Pavia, 1822—26), now before me. 
 
DE TEACY'S COMMENTARY ON MONTESQUIEU. 55 
 
 To this man they brought a special sorrow. The bright 
 era he had hailed as ensuring a " development of reason 
 and an increase of happiness which we vainly seek to esti- 
 mate by the example of past ages,"* had but dawned, to 
 vanish quickly behind thick clouds : 
 
 " Another race had been, and other pakas were won." 
 
 How far the chastened spirit, in its latest moments, ever 
 realised to itself the hollowness of that philosophy which 
 conjoined the highest conceptions of the dignity and 
 sacredness of man's rights and capabilities upon earth, 
 with utter insensibility to his power of living a divine life 
 within himself, and of maintaining the faith " that looks 
 through death," we cannot know. 
 
 It is certain that the long and deep melancholy that 
 settled around the close of a stirring and brilliant career, 
 never obstructed those acts of habitual beneficence which 
 testified how much the man was better than his teaching. 
 Sensationalism is truly a creed which tends to " disenchant 
 earth and to depopulate heaven." But many a deed of mercy 
 contained the implicit refutation of a doctrine to which the 
 doer still lovingly clung. The man to whom belief was 
 humiliation ; who neither knew, nor, according to his own 
 theories, could know, whether or not he had an immortal 
 soul ; whether or not there is a God ; could yet find it in 
 his heart to build a church for the consolation of humble 
 believers, to whom faith is instinctive and doubt unknown. 
 
 Of the minor works of De Tracy, little need be said, ce Tracys 
 The most noticeable of them is the Commentaire sur um sur 
 V Esprit des Lois, first published in Philadelphia in 1811. ^Jf"' 
 This treatise had been sent to Jefferson, in the original 
 French, in June, 1 809. At that clay, it was not at all 
 
 * EUmens d' Ideologic, ii, 11. 
 
56 CLOSE OF DE TBACY'S POLITICAL CAREER. ^ 
 
 suited for the meridian of Paris, Jefferson caused it to be 
 translated, and called it " the most precious gift the present 
 age has received." In 1814, the anonymous American 
 book attracted the attention of Dupont de Nemours, who 
 brought it to De Tracy, as a book well worthy to be natu- 
 ralized in Prance. At first, De Tracy evaded any expres- 
 sion of his opinion. When Dupont, shortly afterwards, 
 resumed the subject, and spoke of an intention to translate 
 the work, he took the MS. from the drawer, and placed it 
 in his hands. When, at length, the book appeared in 
 French, it passed quickly through several editions, and was 
 thrice translated into Spanish. 
 
 The political career of De Tracy closed with the faU of 
 Close of De Napoleou. He had always been one of the small knot of 
 fej^cMeef temperate but firm opponents of the prevalent policy, who 
 redeemed the Senate from political insignificance. He was 
 now one of the five senators appointed to draw up the 
 project of a " constitutional act." Three others of the five 
 were members of the old circle at Auteuil. Lewis XVHI 
 made De Tracy a Peer of Prance under the new constitu- 
 tion, but he rarely appeared in the Chamber. The course 
 of events was little in harmony with his convictions or his 
 hopes. To listen to a few favourite authors ; to converse 
 occasionally with the sadly lessened group of familiar 
 friends ; to keep up the accustomed round of kindly deeds, 
 were now the only employments which diversified the 
 home-life of an aflectionate family. As age crept on, his 
 thoughts dwelt more and more apart. He was wont to 
 spend not a little of his time in gazing from a window on 
 the passing clouds — his eyes still sufficed for that. "T 
 suffer, therefore I am," he would sometimes say. To the 
 last he entertained a fond remembrance of his early pilgrim- 
 
CLOSE OF DE TRACY'S POLITICAL CAEEER. 57 
 
 age to Ferney; and Voltaire was always the author he 
 most preferred to have read to him. His sensational 
 " philosophy " had carried him no higher. 
 
 The courtier of Marie Antoinette, the fellow-soldier of 
 Lafayette, the senator who moved the dethronement of 
 Napoleon, lived to wander, curiously peering about him, 
 amidst the barricades of July, and to hear of, if not to 
 witness, the many stirring incidents of the first six years of 
 the reign of King Lewis Philip. He died on the 6th 
 March, 1836, at the age of eighty-two. The wish ex- 
 pressed by M. Mourens beside the grave, that his writings, 
 — which are very widely scattered, — should be collected, 
 as his fittest memorial, has not yet been accomplished. 
 
58 CHATEAUBRIAND AND NAPOLEON I. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CHEATEAUBRIAND AND NAPOLEON I. — THE WHITER, THE 
 
 EXILE, THE STATESMAN, AND THE ACADEMICIAN. AN 
 
 IMPERIAL AUDIENCE AT SAINT CLOUD. THE PUBLIC 
 
 LIFE OF CHATEAUBRIAND UNDER THE RESTORATION. — 
 THE MEMOIRS FROM BEYOND TSE GRAVE. 
 
 Three years later than Destutt de Tracy, Chateaubriand 
 entered the Second Class of the Institute. His fame had 
 begun "with the Genie du Christianisme, a vigorous and 
 timely protest, in substance, against some of the doctrines 
 of which De Tracy was the apostle. But when one reads 
 the racy, expansive, and most characteristic Memoires 
 d' outre tomhe, one regrets to think — notvidthstanding the 
 solemn words which stand on their title page — " Sicut 
 nuhes; -quasi naves; velut umbra," — ^that what Chateaubriand 
 chiefly saw in Christianity was its respectability, its political 
 usefulness, and its poetry. 
 
 His old age, like that of De Tracy, was often oversha- 
 dowed by deep gloom. Standing once on the banks of the 
 Lido, he was heard to say : — " The wind that blows on a 
 hoary head never blows from a happy shore." 
 
 His life, in its vicissitudes and in its thickly crowded 
 memories, is one of the most marvellous among the many 
 remarkable lives which have been led by Trenchmen who 
 had attained manhood before the breaking out of the Revo- 
 lution of 1789, and who survived to witness the Revolution 
 
CHATEAUBRIAND'S CAEEEK. 59 
 
 of 1848. Bom and bred in a province of France, in which the ,i^,"*a™ff 
 noble was still honoured, and the priest still revered, Chateau- chateau- 
 
 i*i' •! • pi*/» briand'8 ca- 
 
 bnand witnessed, in the castles of Brittany, a mode of life, reer. 
 almost feudal in its family relations and its social depen- 
 dencies. Shorn, indeed, of some of its ancient glories, but 
 still invested with the charms of a sombre magnificence, 
 elsewhere at that date unequalled, the old " regime " yet 
 lived in the ancestral chateau of Combourg, of the daily 
 routine of which Chateaubriand has drawn a memorable 
 picture, with a master's hand. '", 
 
 He had had, too, some glimpses of the traditional splen- 
 dours of the Versailles of Lewis XIV as they were handed 
 down to the courtiers of Marie Antoinette. When Cha- 
 teaubriand first saw that fascinating woman he was struck, 
 he says, with a peculiarity in her smile, which he had never 
 observed in any other woman. The remembrance of that 
 smile enabled him to identify her remains, when the corpse 
 of the poor queen was exhumed from its obscure resting 
 place, under his official superintendence, in 1815. 
 
 During the last struggles of the Monarchy, he was 
 exploring the lakes and the forests of the New World. It 
 was in the hut of an American backwoodsman, near the 
 Blue Mountains, that the news reached him of the flight 
 of Lewis XVI to Varennes. He had conversed with 
 Washington at Mount Vernon about the war of American 
 Independence, about the taking of the Bastille, and about 
 the discovery of a North-west passage ; and he had con- 
 versed with Napoleon about Egypt, about the traditions of 
 the Arabs, and about the evidences of Christianity. He 
 had lived in a country town of England as a French 
 teacher, and as a writer or translator of pamphlets, for 
 daily bread ; and he had lived in London as the Ambas- 
 sador of Lewis XVIIT. He had refused an Embassy 
 
60 CHATEAUBRIAND'S CAEEBR. 
 
 offered by Napoleon, in order that he might testify unmis- 
 takeably his abhorrence of the execution of the Duke of 
 Enghien. He had resigned an Embassy accepted from 
 Charles X, that he might emphatically condemn the insane 
 " Ordinances of July." His latest hours were saddened 
 by the rumbling of that terrible cannonade which, in June, 
 1848, trampled down the destructive plots of Communism 
 in blood. But he lived long enough to hear that civihza- 
 tion had triumphed, although at fearful cost, and he died 
 with the conviction that there was no need to despair of 
 the Puture of France. 
 
 Franjois Rene de Chateaubriand was the youngest of 
 ten children, and was bom at Saint Malo on the 4th of 
 September, 1768. His childhood was passed atCombourg, 
 which he thrice revisited. On the last occasion, when on 
 his way to America, he found it a ruin. He had only 
 courage to glance, through the trees, at the deserted ter- 
 race, which he never trod again. The old donjon tower 
 still rears its turrets from its rocky base, but the fine oak- 
 woods, which once sheltered it, have quite disappeared. 
 
 In Brittany, Chateaubriand received holy orders, at the 
 hands of the Bishop of St. Malo, as a mere preliminary to 
 his entrance into the knightly Order of Malta. He morahzes 
 this strange desecration by the thought that, after aU, the 
 revenues of some benefice or other would have been better 
 spent in maintaining a soldier and his sword, than in 
 enabling some dissolute Abbe to flaunt his mantilla in the 
 drawing-rooms and boudoirs of Paris. When he himself 
 reached the Capital, the first sight that met his eyes was an 
 insurrection. 
 
 When he returned to France, after his long travels in 
 America, he had scarcely rested his foot before he joined 
 
THE "ESSAY ON REVOLUTIONS." 61 
 
 the Emigration, and served in the " Array of the Princes." ^^'^ '^'' 
 
 -w- r r -I ' * emipiration 
 
 Left for dead, in a ditch before Thionville, he recovered, and »"<i si''=<=- 
 fled to England. Here he set himself to such fitful and toEnliani-'' 
 repugnant penwork as the journaHst Peltier, and others of 
 the same stamp, found for him, and his remuneration was 
 such as very nearly led — according to his own statement in 
 the preface (as originally printed) to Afala — to literal 
 starvation. A chamber companion of his, in those days — 
 they lived on the attic floor of one of those wretched- 
 looking houses which abut on a large burial ground in 
 Marylebone^ did actually die at his side, he says, for lack 
 of food. 
 
 Thus struggling with fortune, and gaining a livelihood, 
 now by translating obscure pamphlets, and now by teaching 
 Prench to such pupils as he could obtain, Chateaubriand 
 began to nourish a literary ambition, which, in a very few 
 years, was to be signally gratified. His first work, the ^^''^fX- 
 Essai sur les Revolutions, was the occasional occupation of 
 two years, and was published in London, in 1796. Its main 
 drift is to draw parallels, both of events and of persons, 
 between the Prench revolution and former revolutions, 
 ancient and modern, in various countries. It partakes 
 strongly of that pseudo-philosophic and sceptical tone, 
 which is the special characteristic of the eighteenth century, 
 and also of the bitter impatience of misfortune, always so 
 natural to the eager appetencies of youth. This essay, as 
 published, was intended to be but the prologue of a larger 
 work. But the task was never resumed. The author 
 outgrew both his incredulity and his misanthropy, and the 
 interval of a very few months saw him busily employed on 
 the Genie da Christianisme, as a sort of expiation for the 
 Essai sur les Revolutions. How this great change was 
 wrought in his mind he has himself narrated : — " My 
 
 He vol a- 
 
 tions." 
 
62 THE "GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY." 
 
 mother, having been thrown into a dungeon at seventy-two 
 years of age, expired amidst wretchedness, and her last 
 moments were embittered by the remembrance of my wan- 
 derings from the right path ; whilst djdng, she conjured 
 one of my sisters to bring me back to the religion in which 
 I had been nurtured. When my sister's letter reached me 
 in my exile, she also was no more. She, too, had died of 
 the consequences of her imprisonment during the Reign of 
 Terror. These two voices issuing from the grave — one 
 death acting as interpreter to another — touched me to the 
 heart ; I became a Christian I wept, and I be- 
 lieved." 
 
 The printing of the Genius of Christianity had been 
 commenced in London in 1799 ; but the work was not 
 published until April, 1802, nearly two years after Chateau- 
 briand's return to Trance. The brilliant success of Atala 
 — an episode of the Genius of Christianity, and the fruit of 
 the author's meditations amongst the American forests — 
 paved the way for that poetical Retrospect of the services 
 which Christianity has rendered to man and to society, 
 which unquestionably was of no mean influence in checking 
 the more outrageous blasphemies, and the grosser forms of 
 irreligion, that had so run riot during the worst days of the 
 Revolution. It must suffice to say of this book, that I 
 adopt, concerning it, the words of its first critic, Pontanes, 
 in an article which was published within a very few days of 
 the work's appearance : — 
 
 " The author," says the future Grand Master of the 
 University of Trance, " has aimed at presenting, not the 
 theological proofs of religion, but the picture of its benefits; 
 
 he appeals rather to the feelings than to the reason 
 
 He depicts religion as occupied in placing sentinels, as it 
 were, on all the paths of misfortune to discover and to 
 
THE "GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY." 63 
 
 succour it Piety founds hospitals, endows colleges, 
 
 provides education, protects the arts in monasteries, pre- 
 serves and interprets the manuscripts in which is deposited 
 all the genius of the ancients, and without which we should 
 be poor indeed ; it traverses Europe, distributing benefits, 
 reclaiming waste lands, multiplying harvests, peopling 
 desert coimtries. But there is a grander spectacle still 
 than this ! Prom the obscurity of their cells intrepid men 
 fly to holy conquests. They encounter every danger, and 
 reach the very extremities of the earth, to save souls, — to 
 civilize humanity."* 
 
 Chenier, Ginguene, and others of the same school^ 
 attacked the book with much violence ; but its success was 
 immense, and was testified— little to the author's satisfac- 
 tion — by its surreptitious reprint in two distinct piratical 
 editions, both, I believe, printed at Avignon. Chateau- 
 briand gives an amusing account of his chase of the pirate. 
 No sooner had he alighted in Avignon than a hawker 
 offered him some books for sale, amongst which he found 
 Atala, in three several editions, all of them counterfeit. 
 By going from one bookseller to another, he at last ferreted 
 out the publisher, to whom he was of course personally 
 unknown, and purchased of him the four volumes of the 
 Genius of Christianity, for the sum of nine francs. The 
 worthy bookseller, who was living in a handsome house, 
 with courtyard and garden, bestowed liberal praises, both 
 on the work and on its author. " I thought," adds the 
 latter, " I had found the magpie on its nest ; but before 
 twenty- four hours were over, weary of following in the 
 track of fortune, I made a compromise with the robber for 
 a mere trifle." Independently of these unauthorized 
 reprints, five considerable editions were sold within three 
 
 * Moniteur Universelle, 28 Germinal, An X, (Apvil 18, 1802.) 
 
64 THE "GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY." 
 
 years, and the work was translated into English,* German, 
 Dutch, Spanish, Italian, and Russian. 
 
 The Genius of Christianity had been dedicated to Napo- 
 leon, who at that time appeared to Chateaubriand to be 
 "one of those men whom Providence, when weary of 
 punishing the crimes of a people, sends to it, in token of 
 reconciliation." This dedication, and the interest excited 
 by the book, led to an interview between the Pirst Consul 
 and the future author of the pamphlet, De Buonaparte et 
 des Bourbons. 
 
 " After the adoption of the Concordat by the Legislative 
 Body in 1802, Lucien, then Minister of the Interior, gave an 
 entertainment to his brother. I was invited, .... and 
 was in the gallery when Napoleon entered ; he made a 
 favourable impression on me. I had never before seen 
 him, except at a distance. His smile was pleasing and 
 attractive ; his eye most striking, especially from the man- 
 ner in which it was set beneath his eyebrows, and his calm, 
 thoughtful forehead. He had not yet acquired anything 
 charlatanical in his glance ; 'there was nothing theatrical or 
 
 * It may deserve to be mentioned, tliat this English, translation, — ^the 
 title of which nms. The Beauties of Chr-istianity, by P. A. de Chateau- 
 bxiand. Translated from the French by F. Shoberl ; with a Preface and Notes 
 by the Rev. H. Kett, — is disfigured by a dishonest practice, which is but 
 too common, under more or less disguise, and which cannot be too much 
 reprobated. With singular temerity, it is avowed, in the preface — as 
 though the fact were a recommendation — that, "to render the work 
 more agreeable to the Protestant reader, a few chapters and paragraphs, 
 relative to the tenets of the Church of Rome, are omitted, and a few 
 paragi-aphs are softened." — (Preface, pp. xvii, xviii.) In the same pre- 
 face, a criticism on the work, by Watson, Bishop of Llandaff, is thus 
 quoted : — " This work is not calculated for the instruction of philo- 
 sophers, but it will enlarge the views of the ignorant, it will arrest the 
 attention of the thoughtless, and it will give an impulse to the piety of 
 sober-minded men. There are passages in it which emulate the elo- 
 quence of Bossuet.'' 
 
CHATEAUBRIAND AND NAPOLEON. 65 
 
 affected in his manner. A prodigious imagination animated chateau- 
 this cold politician ; he never could have been what he was, interview 
 had not the Muse been there ; Reason accomplished that Napokon. 
 which the poet's thought conceived. Every man who per- 
 forms great things in the course of his life, must always be 
 compounded of two natures ; for he must be capable both 
 of inspiration and of action ; the one conceives, the other 
 accomplishes. 
 
 " Napoleon perceived and recognised me : by what out- 
 ward sign he can have guessed who I was, I cannot 
 imagine. When he advanced towards me, none knew 
 of whom he was in search, and the ranks opened on every 
 side to receive him ; every one seemed to hope that the 
 Consul would stop before him. He appeared to feel a cer- 
 tain degree of impatience at these mistakes. I drew back 
 behind my neighbours. Napoleon suddenly raised his voice, 
 and, addressing me, said, 'Monsieur de Chateaubriand!' 
 
 " I remained standing alone before him, for the crowd 
 had retired and quickly re-formed in a circle, aroimd the 
 interlocutors. Napoleon accosted me with perfect sim- 
 plicity, without paying me any compliments, without 
 wasting time on indifferent questions ; without preamble 
 he spoke to me at once of Egypt and of the Arabs, as if I 
 had been on terms of intimacy with him, and as if we were 
 only continuing a conversation which had been already 
 commenced between us. 
 
 '"I have been always struck,' he said, ' when I saw the 
 Sheikhs falling on their knees in the midst of the desert, 
 turning towards the east, and touching the sand with their 
 foreheads ; what was this unknown thing which they adore 
 towards the east?' 
 
 " Napoleon then interrupted himself, and, without any 
 transition, passed abruptly to another idea. ' Christianity ! 
 
 5 
 
66 CHATEAUBEIAND AND NAPOLEON. 
 
 the ideologists have wanted to make it a mere astronomical 
 system ; but even should they succeed, do they think to 
 persuade me that Christianity is a small thing ? If Chris- 
 tianity is only an allegory of the movement of the spheres, 
 the geometry of the stars, the esprits forts may do their 
 utmost, but, in spite of themselves, they cannot help yet 
 leaving sufficient greatness to the " infdme." ' 
 
 " Napoleon quickly left me. Like Job, 'I felt as though, 
 in the night, a spirit had passed before me ; the hair of my 
 flesh stood up. It stood still, but I could not discern the 
 form thereof : an image was before mine eyes, and I heard 
 a voice.' My days have been a succession of visions : 
 heaven and hell have been continually opened above my head 
 and beneath my feet, but I have never had time to fathom 
 either their darkness or their light. A single time, on the 
 shores of the two worlds, I met the man of the past age and 
 the man of the present — Washington and Napoleon. I 
 conversed a moment with both ; both sent me back into 
 my solitude ; the first with a benevolent and kindly wish, the 
 second by a crime. 
 
 " I remarl<ed, that as Napoleon walked about amongst 
 the crowd, he cast upon me a much more scrutinizing 
 glance than he had done when he was speaking to me. I 
 also followed hitn with my eyes — 
 
 ' Chi e quel grande, che non par che curi 
 L'incendio ? ' " 
 
 Immediately after this interview. Napoleon determined 
 to send Chateaubriand to Rome, as Secretary of Legation 
 to Cardinal Fesch, then Ambassador to the Holy See. It 
 was during this residence in the Eternal City that Chateau- 
 briand conceived the plan — and perhaps began the execu- 
 tion — of the work which is usually regarded as his 
 masterpiece, Zes Martyrs. But not even literature was 
 
EXECUTION OF D'ENGHIEN, AND WHAT FOLLOWED. 67 
 
 suffered to interfere with the duties of his ofEce, which he 
 so discharged as to win the then coveted approbation of 
 him, who akeady, in the eyes of the multitude, was " the 
 foremost man of all the earth." 
 
 Two years afterwards, having returned from the Roman 
 embassy, Chateaubriand was named Minister Plenipotentiary chateau- 
 in the Valais. But it was on the eve of that sinister day, "™he 
 on which the last of the Cond^s was shot in the ditch of '''=''*'' °f 
 
 -__. . , . ,, Enghien, and 
 
 Vmcennes, " withm, to use Chateaubriand's own words, ws resigna. 
 "four paces of the oak beneath which Saint Lewis had eZJsy. 
 dispensed justice." On the evening of that day, whilst all ~ 
 mouths were sealed with fear and stupor, Chateaubriand 
 sent in his resignation. Napoleon has himself recorded the 
 deep impression produced upon him by this manly and 
 noble protest. In recounting the circumstances in his 
 Memoirs, Chateaubriand has very naturally entered into a 
 somewhat elaborate discussion on the much-vexed question 
 — Who are the persons on whom the chief guilt of this 
 murder should rest ? His long examination results in the 
 conclusion that Talleyrand was the main culprit ; but that 
 Napoleon himself cannot be acquitted of personal respon- 
 sibihty for the crime. Talleyrand, he says, suggested, and 
 Napoleon adopted it. Chateaubriand did not — like some 
 others — wait for the lion's decrepitude, before he became 
 the lion's assailant. His condemnation of the crime was 
 most loudly uttered when its authors were still in the high 
 places of power. 
 
 After his withdrawal from the diplomatic service of the 
 Empire, Chateaubriand lived a very retired life, partly in 
 Paris, and partly in the south of France, diversified, how- 
 ever, by a brief tour in Switzerland. In 1806, he carried 
 into execution a long-cherished project of Eastern travel. 
 
The execu- 
 tion of Ar- 
 mnnd de Cha- 
 
 tcaubriund. 
 
 68 CHATEAUBRIAND ENTEES THE ACADEMY. 
 
 Having visited Greece, Constantinople, Syria, and the Holy 
 Land — a tour so charmingly described in the Itineraire 
 de Paris a Jerusalem — ^he returned to Egypt, the old 
 Punic laud, and Spain. He may be said to have been one 
 of the last persons v\rho visited the Turkish Empire, whilst 
 it still retained all its ancient forms and customs, and 
 something of its ancient vigour. The revolutions he had 
 seemed to leave behind him soon extended even to Greece, 
 to Syria, and to Egypt. 
 
 His return to his country vras soon embittered by a pain- 
 ful bereavement, under circumstances very similar to those 
 which marked the death of the Duke of Enghien, devoid, 
 however, of the guilt which must always attach to that 
 event. Armand de Chateaubriand, who was shot on the 
 plain of Crenelle, in March, 1809, had been taken in 
 flagrant conspiracy against the established government of 
 France. After incessant but fruitless efforts to save his 
 cousin's life, our author wished, on the day of execution, 
 to accompany his old comrade in the "Army of the 
 Princes," to his last battle-field. He could find.no carriage, 
 and had to run on foot to the mournful scene, where he 
 arrived a moment too late ; — Armand had been already shot 
 against the wall of Paris. " When I walk," he says— writing 
 in 1839 — "on the Boulevard of the plain of Crenelle, 
 I pause to look at the mark of the bullet still visible on 
 the wall." 
 
 Chateau- 
 briand'a visit 
 to Morellet. 
 
 Chateaubriand's election into the Academy, as the suc- 
 cessor of Ch^nier, occurred in the spring of 1811. He 
 was reluctant, he says, to offer himself, being convinced 
 that his election would involve him in new conflict with 
 the imperial government. When Mme. de Vintimille 
 took the candidate to pay his visit to Morellet, the 
 
HIS PROPOSED SPEECH ON RECEPTION. G9 
 
 "Father of the Academy," they found the old Abbe 
 asleep in his library, beside a copy of the Itineraire de 
 Paris a Jerusalem, which had dropped from his hands. 
 Suddenly awakened by the announcement of his visitor, he 
 started up with the exclamation, " There are some long- 
 spun passages" {By a des longueurs). I told him, says 
 the author, that I saw it plainly, and would abridge 
 them in a new edition. " He promised me his vote, not- 
 withstanding Atala." Morellet had criticised Atala, as 
 well as the Itineraire, and with more severity. 
 
 Chateaubriand's election had been carried after opposi- 
 tion, but by a large majority, including men of very dif- 
 ferent opinions. When his intended address came before 
 the ofBcial persons, his supporters were in consternation. 
 The discourse is a notable example both of the author's His pro- 
 strength and of his weakness. Admirable for its defence i°f'' f'" 
 
 o course at re- 
 
 of free thought, in a strain which the consciousness of ^epti'mmthe 
 
 . . . . . Academy. 
 
 personal peril raised at times from rhetoric into true elo- 
 quence, it is marvellous for its Cimmerian darkness on a 
 topic which was yet perpetually in Chateaubriand's mouth. 
 He wields prose like a poet when he asserts the impossibility 
 of isolating literature from the social interests of men, 
 without emasculating it. When he comes to enforce the 
 correlative truth that writers, individually, ought rather to 
 feel proud of obscurity, than to seek personal fame — as 
 some had done— by betraying their country, he sinks 
 into platitudes, and then points his argument by adducing 
 as an example, the conduct, at " a time of public calamity," 
 of John Milton. 
 
 An English reader of this generation, may well pause, in 
 momentary amazement, to think if colourable occasion for 
 such a fancy could, by chance, have arisen from any rais- 
 tiiken incident of the life of the poet, who, at a time of 
 
70 A SCENE AT SAINT CLOUD. 
 
 unquestionable public calamity, sat in that humble tene- 
 ment in Artillery Walk — • 
 
 Chateau- « Darfcaess before, and danger's voice behind,"* 
 
 briand on 
 
 Miitou. intent on the composition of Paradise Lost. But, if he 
 reads on, for another sentence or two, he finds that the 
 " time of public calamity" was not the time of Charles 
 II — 'when the Portsmouths and the Buckinghams were in 
 their glory, and the Clarendons in exile — but the time of 
 Vane, Blake, and Cromwell; and that Milton, as some 
 atonement "for the miseries he had brought upon his 
 country," assigned to the powers infernal, depicted in his 
 great poem, " the torments, the passions, and the remorse, 
 of the men of whose fury he had himself partaken." 
 
 It was not destined that a Parisian audience should 
 listen to this luminous utterance on English literature. 
 After much discussion, and many conflicting opinions, the 
 historian Daru, a member of the Academy, carried the MS. 
 
 A scene at j-q Napoleoii, who uot oulv read it, but revised it. All that 
 
 Saint Cloud r ' ./ ^ 
 
 -Napoleon I was Said of the folly of the attempt to sever literature from 
 raitL '^'"^ affairs ; all that was said of Milton ; and many of the re- 
 marks on Chenier, he struck out. He then summoned 
 Daru to his presence. Passing through an antichamber, 
 in which many dignitaries of the Empire were assembled, 
 the Academician found the Emperor with Chateaubriand's 
 MS. in his hand. What followed was a monologue, 
 uttered, as Daru tells us, partly in a quiet and partly in a 
 resounding voice : — " Had this speech been delivered in its ■ 
 original form,'' said Napoleon, " I would have shut up the 
 
 * " Tet not alone, nor helpless to repel 
 
 Sad thoughts ; for, from above the starry sphere, 
 Come secrets, whispered nightly to his ear ; 
 And the pure spirit of celestial light 
 Shines through his soul, — that he may see and tell 
 Of things invisible to mortal sight." 
 
A SCENE AT SAINT CLOUD. 71 
 
 Institute. I cannot tolerate this sort of thing. I will 
 suffer neither these indiscreet reminiscences, nor these re- 
 proaches of the past, nor this tacit censure of the present, 
 although mixed with praise. If, the author were here, 
 before me, I would say to him : You, sir, are not of this 
 country. Your admiration and your desires are elsewhere. 
 You comprehend neither my acts nor my intentions. Well, 
 if you are ill at ease in Prance, leave it. We do not under- 
 stand one another, and it is I who am master here. You do 
 not appreciate my work, and, were I to permit you, you 
 would spoil it. Depart, sir, cross the frontier. Leave 
 France in peace and unity, under the Government which 
 it needs.'^ The more emphatic words of this outburst 
 were heard in the antichamber. When Daru again 
 passed through, he was, to his amazement, received with 
 icy coldness. His greetings met averted eyes. His ques- 
 tions brought scarcely audible replies. The courtiers were 
 under the impression that it was he, himself, who had just 
 undergone sentence of transportation. 
 
 Chateaubriand's Discourse, with its imperial corrections, 
 was, of course, never delivered. But it was printed, by 
 imperial authority, for circulation in the country. There 
 was a threat that, unless he composed another address, his 
 election would be annulled. But ultimately, and chiefly, as 
 it seems, by the influence of Mme. Regnauld (de Saint Jean 
 d'Angely), the reception took place, without any formal 
 oration at all. " The women of that day," says Chateau- 
 briand, very characteristically, "interposed their beauty 
 between power and evil fortune." 
 
 The remaining years of the Empire were chiefly spent by 
 Chateaubriand in literary employments ; with the close of 
 the Empire his literary career may be said to have termi- 
 nated, and his active career as a statesman to have begun. 
 
72 CHATEAUBEIAND IN OFFICE. 
 
 His writings under the Restoration were almost exclusively 
 political. They commenced with the famous tract — Be 
 Buonaparte et des Bourbons. 
 
 This political manifesto is now deservedly forgotten. It 
 was remarkable for ability, but still more remarkable for 
 bitter party spirit. An eminent critic, by no means unfa- 
 vourably disposed towards Chateaubriand, has characterised 
 it as the " most virulent libel that was ever written." But 
 this is the less surprising, inasmuch as, although it was 
 composed within hearing of the cannonade of the Allies, it 
 was none the less at the peril of the author's life ; for even 
 then, at times, the chances of war seemed to favour Napoleon. 
 Chateau- Of Chateaubriaud's career as the Diploma:tist and the 
 'office. Minister of the Restoration, it is not necessary to say much. 
 His personal sympathies, and his intense hatred of the sys- 
 tem of the Empire, led him at times into the ranks of the 
 most bigoted and outrageous of " the supporters of the throne 
 and the altar." But to two grand principles he was always 
 faithful. The liberty of the press, and the integrity of 
 representative government, ever found in him a faithful 
 and watchful defender. With reference to these principles, 
 at least, he might honestly assert that "the goals of his 
 political life had always been the same." 
 ■ On the accession to power of the administration of M. de 
 Vill^e, Chateaubriand was sent as ambassador, first to 
 Berlin and afterwards to London. In September, 1832, 
 he crossed the Alps to represent Prance at the Congress of 
 Verona. At this council of kings he pleaded, with vdi-y 
 small success, the cause of the Greeks, and defended, 
 with better fortune, what he deemed to be French interests 
 in the complicated affairs of Spain. 
 The Spanish Jt has bccu said that it was the Congress of Verona 
 which forced the Spanish war upon M. de Villele, and 
 
 war. 
 
HIS DEFENCE OF THE SPANISH WAR. 73 
 
 M. de VillMe who thrust it upon Chateaubriand, when he 
 succeeded M. de Montmorency as minister of foreign 
 affairs. Chateaubriand's own account of the matter, how- 
 ever, in his History of the Veronese Congress, is very 
 different ; he there avows that he advocated the war, and 
 influenced the decision of the Congress. And it is thus 
 that he defends the course that he adopted : — " Let people 
 imagine to themselves Ferdinand reigning, reasonably, at 
 Madrid, under the rod of Prance \_sous la verge de la France], 
 our southern frontier in safety, Iberia no longer able to let 
 England and Austria loose upon us ; let them figure to 
 themselves two or three Bourbon monarchies in America, 
 forming, for our advantage, a counterpoise to the commer- 
 cial influence of the United States and of Great Britain ; let 
 them imagine our cabinet powerful enough to insist upon 
 a modification of the treaties of Vienna ; our ancient fron- 
 tier recovered, thrust back, extended into the Low Coun- 
 tries, into our old Germanic departments ; and then let 
 them say whether for such results the Spanish war was not 
 rightly undertaken."* 
 
 It were idle to refute so silly a piece of rhodomontade. 
 The Spanish war was both needless and unjust. It had 
 neither a legitimate beginning nor an avowable object. 
 Yet this weak and foolish defence of it came from a man 
 who, in other days, had fought gallantly and suffered mag- 
 nanimously on the side of constitutional Uberty against 
 triumphant despotism, — and from a Minister who while 
 there was yet time to pause upon the brink, had been dis- 
 tinctly warned by a wiser Statesman than himself of the 
 inevitable results. f 
 
 * Congres de Verone, (1838,) torn, ii, p. 338. 
 
 t See tlie Despatches of Canning to Chateaubriand, Jan. 21 and 27, 
 1823. Congres de Verone, torn, i, pp. 330—349. 
 
74 CHATEAUBEIAND IN OPPOSITION. 
 
 But the manly counsels of Canning were offered in vain ; 
 and the invasion of Spain by the contemptible Duke of 
 Angouleme remains an indelible stain on the political Kfe 
 of Chateaubriand. 
 Chateau- Despitc thls momentary and unfortunate union with the 
 posMon"" °^ ultra-royalist faction, Chateaubriand was soon compelled to 
 resume his natural attitude of antagonism to it. And he 
 fought with his usual vigour. In the Journal des Bebats, 
 and elsewhere, nearly all the remaining measiu-es of the 
 administration of VillMe were riddled by his heavy can- 
 nonade. The reduction of the dividends — ^the censorship 
 of the press — the sacrilege biU — the dissolution of the 
 National Guard — were all under fire in their turn. At 
 length the Villele Ministry was forced to surrender. 
 
 Under that of M. de Martignac, which succeeded, M. de 
 Chateaubriand accepted the embassy to Rome, and took 
 an active part in managing the conclave which placed 
 Cardinal Annibale della Genga (Leo XII) as the successor 
 of Pius VII on the pontifical throne. He strenuously 
 opposed the measures which marked the fatal entrance into 
 power of the PoHgnac faction, and on learning its determi- 
 nation to issue the famous " Ordinances,'' he gave in his 
 resignation. During the three days of July, he was at 
 Dieppe. Immediately on being apprised of the real cha- 
 racter of the events which were taking place, he hastened 
 to Paris. When he crossed the barricades on his way to 
 the Chamber of Peers, he was recognised by the populace ; 
 and the men who had just expelled the elder Bourbons, 
 bore aloft in triumph their tried and faithful servant, just 
 as he was about to make a final and fruitless effort for the 
 race which had rewarded his zealous attachment with 
 disgrace and contumely. 
 
 It has been pithily said, that from 1814 to 1825, 
 
THE MIIMOIBS FBOM BEYOND THU GRAVE. 75 
 
 Chateaubriand fought for the past against the future ; that 
 from 1825 to 1830, he enlisted under the flag of the future 
 against the past; and that after 1830, he laboured to 
 solder, after his fashion, the past and the future together ; 
 to graft, as it were, a democratic shoot upon a Bourbon 
 stock ; " to fuse together Jacques Bonhomme and Henry V." 
 What is likely to come of such attempts at fusion is now 
 an old tale. 
 
 The composition of the Memoires d'outre tombe, was composition 
 
 , . , . P T 1 Of the ilfe- 
 
 begun m the retirement of a little country-house, near the »wi™ /«»» 
 village of Aulnay, in 1811, and continued at Dieppe in the S"!* 
 following year, M. de Chateaubriand having been peremp- 
 torily ordered to quit Paris by the Prefect of Police, early 
 in the autumn of 1812. The author's political employ- 
 ments prevented their resumption — save in a fragment or 
 two — until the period of his embassy to Berlin in 1821. 
 In that city, and in London (whither, as we have seen, he 
 also went as ambassador), in 1822, a considerable portion 
 of the book was written. From 1822, when it had reached 
 about one third of its present extent, until 1837, it appears 
 to have been entirely suspended. The remainder of the 
 work was written in 1837 and subsequent years — with the 
 exception, perhaps, of the long and remarkable episode re- 
 specting Napoleon, the composition of which bears no date. 
 M. de St. Beuve (in his Critiques et Portraits Litteraires) 
 has given a lively description of the interest excited amongst 
 the brilliant auditories assembled at the Abbaye-aux-bois, 
 in 1834, by the readings of the Meynoires d'outre tombe, in in'^''°„/\^tj 
 their earlier portions, as they were composed. The later PosUiumoua 
 
 *■ - . \ Memoirs. 
 
 volumes were read to a very different audience from that of 
 the Abbaye-aux-bois, and under altered circumstances. 
 Those final readings occurred but a short while before the 
 
76 THE MEMOIRS FROM BJETOND TKB GRAVH. 
 
 Revolution of February. That startling thunder-clap sur- 
 prised the remaining hearers of the " old man, eloquent," 
 into quite other pursuits than literary recitations. Their 
 numbers had been already diminished by death. And the 
 eventful career of the writer himself closed in the same 
 memorable year. 
 
 Perhaps, had Chateaubriand writtenHess ; had he acted, 
 occasionally, on the Horatian precept,* his vi^orks would be 
 likely to enjoy a longer existence than seems now before 
 them. But it may, certainly, be said of him, in the 
 words of a fellow-academician of the next generation, al- 
 though in a differe^t sense from that in which those words 
 were written : — " The man's life will " (for some time to 
 come, at least) " get his books a reading," notwithstanding 
 their frequent puffy hyperboles and flimsy sentimentalities. 
 
NAPOLEON AND THE POETS, 11 
 
 viilsion of 
 to- 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 NAPOLEON AND THE POETS. THE ACADEMICIANS DUCIS 
 
 AND LEMERCIER, THE POETUY-PRIZB OP THE BELLE 
 
 POULE EXPEDITION. THE ACADEMY UNDER THE RESTO- 
 RATION. THE "law of JUSTICE AND LOVE." 
 
 The relations between the Emperor and the Second Class 
 of the Institute were never cordial. The " Ideologists" were 
 his persistent though not always his open opponents. The 
 poets stood almost equally aloof. Both Ducis and Lemer- 
 cier had been captivated, for awhile, by the glory of the 
 Consulate. Ducis, like Chateaubriand, had been alienated 
 by the murder of the Duke of Enghien. " He has deceived ™J,"'™ 
 me, I thought him a Cincinnatus, but he is despotism incar- ™''= "^"i""" 
 nate." Such was the feeling to which is owing the pun- 
 gent although one-sided apologue, TJne promenade au Bois 
 de Satori. Delille, who had refused to write a " Hymn to 
 the Supreme Being," at the menacing request of Robes- 
 pierre, resisted the splendid and reiterated overtures of 
 Napoleon. Lemercier, who from 1795 to the eve of the 
 Empire, had been on the most intimate terms with 
 Napoleon, and who to the end of his long life was wont to Lemercicr'i 
 talk of " Mon ami, le Premier Consul" once, with difBculty, gM^and'Iub^ 
 brought himself to write some verses on the marriage with ='=i"':"* ^"' 
 
 o '-' mosity to- 
 
 Maria Louisa. At that date, his nomination to the Aca- wards Napo- 
 demy had just occurred. Shortly afterwards, the imperial 
 censorship suppressed his tragedy of Camilhs, in which 
 
 leou. 
 
78 THE "EETURN OF THE ASHES OF NAPOLEON." 
 
 the military capacity and courage of tlie hero is very 
 markedly united with an absolute submission to the laws. 
 Within a few days of that suppression, the Institute had to 
 wait upon the Emperor, on some state occasion. As soon 
 as Napoleon saw Lemercier, he put to him the question, — 
 " Well, M. Lemercier, when will you give us a good 
 tragedy?" The poet looked intently at the man whose 
 fortunes were then at their height, — unshaken, as yet, 
 by the campaign of 1812, — and replied, " Soon. I am 
 waiting!' Eight years earlier, he had said to the First 
 Consul, " You are amusing yourself with making the bed 
 of the Bourbons. I foretell you that you will not lie in it 
 ten years." The conviction seems to have remained with 
 him amidst the quick-succeeding marvels which had daz- 
 zled almost all eyes. It is less to his honour that, although 
 he survived the expedition of the Belle Poule, he never 
 learnt, during that long interval, to discriminate between 
 the great and the petty elements of Napoleon's character. 
 He saw quickly enough what was mean, despicable, and 
 transient. He never perceived what was grand and en- 
 during. Only two days before his own death he dragged 
 himself to the Louvre, that he might give a vote against 
 The Poetry- thc cholcc, for the poetry-theme of the year, of " The 
 return to France of the Ashes of Napoleon." Lemercier 
 had sat in the Gallery of the Convention, day after day, 
 amidst the knitting-women, " to see the laws outlawed," 
 until the sights that he had there looked upon wrought 
 on his very features an expression almost of idiocy.* But 
 it seems never to have occurred to him that the man who 
 had, at least, dethroned anarchy, had done a service to 
 
 * This curious circumstance has been recorded by a contemporary. 
 So striking was tbe reflection on Mb featm-es of tlie borror ia bis 
 miad, tbat some of tbe regular attendants in tbat gallery tbougbt bim 
 really an idiot, with a mania for speeobes. 
 
EESTORATION OF THE FEENCH ACADEMY. 79 
 
 France, which no subsequent misdoings can justly oblite- 
 rate from memory. 
 
 Lemercier lived long enough to observe that revulsion of lemercier's 
 feeling towards Napoleon's memory— amongst men of the more""ligo- 
 poet's own class— in which he could not share. He also ™>'*''='°'^^ 
 
 works. 
 
 Hved long enough to survive his own works. Great as had 
 been their influence upon his immediate contemporaries, 
 they lacked that savour of style which is the condition, not 
 only of immortality, but even of the continued esteem of a 
 single generation. His force of character — his resolute 
 independence of spirit — can never lose their charm. These 
 were the qualities which made the man greater than the 
 poet. Lemercier spoke his mind, and spoke it fully, at all 
 epochs ; alike, whether the men at the helm were friends 
 or foes; whether the views expressed were popular or 
 unpopular ; and, hence, his fate was pretty much the same 
 at all epochs. The Committee of PubHc Safety proscribed 
 his Le'vite d'JEphraim. The National Convention suppressed 
 his Tartufe Mevolutionnaire. Under Napoleon's censor- 
 ship he had five several dramas tabooed from the stage. 
 Under the censorship of Lewis XVIH, his Bemence de 
 Charles VI was formally condemned. The reader of the 
 recently published autobiography — for such it substantially 
 is — of Victor Hugo, will remember some curious parallel- 
 isms in the otherwise contrasted careers of the men who 
 sat in the same Academical chair. 
 
 The second reorganization of the Institute, under the i^™'^g™^j>- 
 
 O ^ tion of the 
 
 returned Bourbons, restored the old statutes and the old Academy by 
 
 . LewisXVIII. 
 
 name of French Academy, but struck, for a time, an almost 
 deadly blow at its honour. The names of " Bonapartist " 
 and too "liberal" Academicians were indiscriminatingly 
 struck from the roll by a royal ordinance, to be replaced, 
 
80 "PURIFICATION" OF THE ACADEMY. 
 
 Attacks on fgj. ^jjg ^Qg^; p^rt, bv iiames of abb^s, bishops, counts, and 
 
 its indepeu- r ' J -n i i 
 
 dence. dukcs, little known to literature. By the ultra-royalists, 
 this was called the " Purification of the Academy." Very 
 fitly, the purification was begun by Pouche, and completed 
 by Vaublanc. Several of the excluded members were 
 driven into exile and penury. Arnault, for example, 
 was not suffered to rest, even in Belgium, but, at an age 
 
 Fortunes -. ■, •, l ■ p i , 
 
 and conduct wheu reposB becomes a necessity, was driven from place to 
 excMed"!*!". P^^cc by thc Belgian gendarmerie. His colleagues honoured 
 demicians. themselvcs" by subscribing, both individually and in the 
 name of the Academy, towards an edition of his works. 
 At length, in 1829, he resumed his seat. Maury, twice 
 elected, as we have seen, had no successor to commemorate 
 his singular career. Etienne lived to re-enter the Academy, 
 and to fill a conspicuous place in it for many years. Garat, 
 too, was, after a time, advised to offer himself as candidate 
 for a vacant seat. " My election," he rephed, " was 
 indelible. Whatever may have been decreed, I am, and I 
 shall be, of the French Academy as long as I live. When 
 I was Home Minister, I gathered up the fragments of the 
 Academy's Dictionary. I have since shared in its discus- 
 sions. And if I thought that I could now attend without 
 hindrance, I would go to-morrow, and take my seat with 
 my colleagues." Garat must have felt his exclusion the 
 more keenly, inasmuch as he had always been a little of 
 the school of that cautious devotee who, we are told, when 
 he was -building a fine church for Divine worship, did not 
 forget to erect a small chapel for the arch-enemy hard by. 
 An extreme prudence had not saved him from a bitter 
 humiliation. 
 
 Attempted "jhls attcmot to compcl the Academy into political sub- 
 anticipation -11 ./I 
 of the oidi- serviency had small success. Some years, indeed, passed 
 
 "™uiy. ° without any open coUision between the Government and 
 
THE "LAW OF JUSTICE AND LOVE." 81 
 
 the Institute. But in 1827, M. de Peyronnet, acting under 
 the influence of the Jesuits of Montrouge, anticipated the 
 fatal Ordinances of 1830, by proposing to the Chambers a 
 law which laid new fetters on the press. The vigorous 
 action of the Academy arrested the project, even after its 
 sanction by a parliamentary majority. Charles de Lacretelle 
 (although he then held the office of Dramatic Censor) moved **""" '^- 
 
 ^ ' sistanceoftlie 
 
 the Academy to adopt an energetic protest against a French Aca- 
 measure which, he said, " cast disgrace on literature, and purshment.' 
 would be politically disastrous." The proposal was, with 
 equal warmth, supported by Chateaubriand, by Count de 
 Segur, by Villemain, and by Lemercier. It was opposed 
 by La Place and by Cuvier. The King refused to receive 
 the protest, but it had done its work. Peyronnet replied 
 to the Academy by an article in the Moniteur, in which he 
 used the words " A law of Justice and Love," and thus 
 gave to the abortive Ordinance its famous nickname. The 
 words were borrowed from "Les Soirees de St. Petersbourff," 
 and no plagiarism was ever less felicitous. Every Acade- 
 mician who had voted for the protest, and who held any 
 office under the Crown, was immediately dismissed. Lacre- 
 telle lost his office of Examiner of Plays ; Villemain, his 
 Mastership of Requests ; Michaud, his Readership to the 
 King. The public sympathy with the disgraced Academi- 
 cians was testified in many ways, and the joy at the defeat 
 of the " Law of Justice and Love," was shown by the 
 illumination of Paris. This was the overture to the terrible 
 drama of 1830. 
 
83 STEIFE OF CLASSICISTS AND ROMANTICISTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 STRIFE OF CLASSICISTS AND ROMANTICISTS. THE ACA- 
 DEMIC CANDIDATURES OF CASIMIR DE LA VIGNE AND 
 OF VICTOR HUGO. 
 
 Many of the receptions during the reign of Lewis 
 Phihp present striking illustrations of literary history, and 
 of the varying currents of opinion. I pass over them all, 
 save three. 
 Tiie eaiiy Like SO mauy other of the men who have conspicuously 
 castair de la ^'ddcd to the Acadeuiy's fame, Casimir De La Vigne early 
 vigne. |.j,jg(j i-jjg strength in the annual competitions. He re- 
 peatedly obtained the honour of the " Accessit," but it was 
 not his fortune to win a prize. On one occasion the medal 
 was almost in his grasp. But the Academy had said — 
 " Study creates happiness under all the varied circumstances 
 of human life!' The young poet turned the assertion into 
 a query — " Does study create happiness, 8fc. ?" The poem 
 was warmly and deservedly applauded, and seemed sure of 
 the prize. An Academical martinet, however, contended 
 that by their rules the liberty taken with the programme 
 was fatal to its claims, and his opinion prevailed. Thence- 
 forth the poet addressed himself to the task of making his 
 way into the Academy by the triumphs of the Theatre. Les 
 Vepres Siciliennes, Les Comediens, Le Paria, were the 
 ovations of two seasons. They were won at the darkest 
 period of the Restoration by works which vibrated with 
 
CANDIDATURE AND llECEPTION OP DE LA VIGNE. 83 
 
 the love of liberty. That " purification" of the Academy 
 which was to prove powerless to arrest its rightful action at 
 a great crisis, was nevertheless sufficient to impede the 
 entrance of obnoxious candidates. When De La Vigne His canau 
 first offered himself, the Academy preferred the Bishop of Academy. 
 Hermopolis ; when he was again a candidate, the Arch- 
 bishop of Paris was chosen. Soon, a third vacancy occurred, 
 and his friends were importunate that he should not lose 
 his chance. " No," said he, " if I offered myself a third 
 time, I ara sure they would oppose to me the Pope." But 
 then came the splendid success of L'Ecole des Veillards, 
 which carried the doors of the Academy by storm. He 
 now obtained twenty-nine votes out of thirty, was opposed 
 by no more prelates, and took his seat on the 7th July, 1825. 
 The inexhaustible controversy between those who would 
 give wings to innovation, and those who would put a drag 
 on it, had at this time its double arena in France. The 
 Classicists and the Romanticists were playing out their 
 lively counterpart of the old strife between Royalists and 
 Liberals. It is not easy, in these days, to form an adequate 
 conception of the violence with which this struggle was at 
 length carried on by a portion of the press. But, when 
 Casimir De La Vigne made his reception speech to the 
 Academy, the contest had as yet scarcely passed the limits 
 of moderation. Deeply imbued with the distinctive merits 
 both of the old school and of the new, he enforced the 
 wisdom of keeping within those hmits. He depicted with 
 power and beauty the perplexities of the young dramatic 
 poet encountering, at the outset of his first adventure on 
 that broad ocean which had borne his predecessors to such 
 glorious triumphs, some " Genius of the storm," who terri- 
 fies him with stories of the rocks and shoals which await 
 him, and of the shipwrecks they have caused. The Genius 
 
84. THE CLASSICISTS AND THE ROMANTICISTS. 
 
 warns hiin, above all, to try no new courses; assures hira 
 that beyond the boundary of the now visible horizon, there 
 is neither star to guide nor tide to bear hira on his way,- 
 nothing save disaster and certain ruin. " But," he asked, 
 " what avail these alarming predictions, if within the poet 
 there be that which irresistibly urges him to seek new dis- 
 coveries — to attach his name to some region before unknown? 
 Danger does but spur him onward. Yet the perils are real. 
 And the only safe pilot is the poet's conscience, directing 
 his art, and religiously obeyed. Boldness must be governed 
 by reason. Contempt of rules is not less absurd than 
 fanaticism for rules. To thrust a subject into limits which 
 are plainly repugnant to it, is to immolate Truth to Routine. 
 To disregard good rules, simply to be singular or to win 
 momentary applause, is but to evince a new servility more 
 contemptible than the old." Such counsels are now com- 
 monplace ; they were then much needed. The poet who 
 gave them contributed powerfully to make them trite. 
 
 Within the walls of the Institute the strife for a time 
 seemed to turn on the admission or the exclusion of Victor 
 Hugo, the most eminent of the literary revolutionists, and 
 the founder of their famous " Cenacle." 
 
 The Odes et Ballades had been published in 1822; 
 Cromwell^ in 1827 ; Notre Dame de Paris, Marion Delormi;, 
 and Les Feuilles d'Automne, in 1831. The poet was not 
 admitted into the Academy until 1841. Lemercier, who 
 was really the precursor of the Romantic school although 
 he qlisowned the relationship, had unremittingly opposed 
 his admission. Lemercier's death became the occasion of 
 Hugo's election. The public looked for a lively discourse 
 on the war between the Romanticists and Classicists ; it 
 had to listen, instead, to a grave essay on the duties of 
 
DE SALVANDY AND VICTOR HUGO. 85 
 
 Literature towards Society, with especial reference to 
 political reforms. 
 
 The chair was occupied by a man who had himself niade his recep- 
 literature the stepping-stone to a prominent career in byVdJstj- 
 Politics. M. de Salvandy took elaborate pains to impress ™'"'y- 
 upon his new colleague that Victor Hugo, the poet, must 
 remain a poet, and stand quite aloof from public affairs. 
 Nor did he stop there. He gave a turn to his reply, hitherto 
 without example in the Academy's transactions. The 
 Abbe de Caumartin had received the Bishop of Noyon with 
 subdued but cutting satire. Languet de Gergy had 
 tempered his praises of Marivaux with some candid criti- 
 cisms. Marmontel had amused the audience assembled 
 to receive Laharpe, by the witty -sallies vi^ith which he 
 put into high relief certain contrasts between the de- 
 ceased Academician, Colardeau, and Laharpe, his suc- 
 cessor. Now, for the first time, the President attempted 
 an exhaustive refutation of the discourse of the new-comer. 
 The animus was none the less evident for the failure of the 
 effort. As a reply must needs contain an admixture of 
 eulogy, M. de Salvandy praised some of Hugo's earliest lyrics, 
 and paid to his mature works the compliment of saying 
 that, now and then, they recalled to the reader's mind some- 
 thing of the beauty of the first-fruits of the poet's youth. 
 
 Whatever the audience may have thought of the fitness 
 or the taste of this novel procedure, it must have had the 
 merit of keeping off" all tendency to drowsiness. Listead 
 of listening to mutual eulogies, there was the excitement 
 of a pitched battle of wit and subtlety, heightened, per- 
 haps, by the knov^ledge that the official receiver had done 
 his best to keep the received outside the door. But the 
 example, if ever imitated at all, has been much refined upon 
 in the repetition. 
 
86 BIOGRAPHY OF DE TOCQUEYILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ALEXIS DE TOCQUEVILLE. HIS WORK ON NORTH AMERICA. 
 
 HIS RECEPTION AT THE ACADEMY. HIS OTHER 
 
 WRITINGS AND POLITICAL LIFE. 
 
 Charles Alexis Maurice Clerel de Tocqueville was born at 
 Verneuil, in the departnaent of the Seine and Oise, on the 
 29th July, 1805. Descended from an ancient family of Nor- 
 mandy, he was the third son of the Count of Tocqueville, by 
 his marriage with Mdle. de Rosambo, one of the granddaugh- 
 ters of the illustrious Malesherbes. This marriage had 
 been contracted in 1793, and was quickly followed by that 
 imprisonment during the Terror, which so many of that 
 eminent family quitted only for the guillotine ; a fate from 
 which the parents of M. de Tocqueville narrowly escaped 
 by the event of the 9 th Thermidor. 
 
 Alexis de Tocqueville was educated at the college of 
 Metz, at first with a view to the mihtary profession, which 
 had already been adopted by his two elder brothers. But 
 before his studies were concluded, this intention was 
 changed. He prepared himself for the bar, to which he 
 was called in 1825, and then travelled through Italy, be- 
 fore entering into practice. In 1827, he was appointed 
 judge-auditor at the tribunal of Versailles. The revolution 
 of 1830 matured in his mind liberal sympathies and aspi- 
 rations which had not been concealed in gloomier days ; 
 but the only favour which he sought at the hands of the 
 
HIS EEPOET ON AMERICAN PENITENTIARIES. 87 
 new fi;overnment was a commission to examine, jointly with DeTocque- 
 
 , . ville's inquiry 
 
 his friend Gustave de Beaumont, and at their personal intothepeni- 
 expense, the penitentiary system of the United States of tem. 
 America. This task they undertook early in 1831, and 
 performed it, exhaustively, during a long tour throughout 
 the StateSj which occupied the remainder of that year and 
 much of 1832. They were cordially received, and made 
 many friendships. 
 
 In 1833, the results of the inquiry were published in a 
 work entitled, Bw Systeme Penitentiare aux Etats- Unis, et 
 de son Application en France ; suivi d'un Ajjpendice sur les 
 Colonies Penales, &c. This Report traces the history of the 
 American system, and describes the remarkable measure 
 of success which had attended it. It shows that this 
 success was principally due to the local administration 
 which had both originated and worked out the system. It 
 recommends, therefore, that in Prance power should be given 
 to the Departments, severally, to erect and govern cellular 
 prisons ; insists on the prime necessity of isolation, — labour, 
 — religious instruction, — fit and responsible warders, — in 
 the management of such prisons ; condemns the system of 
 " surveillance " exercised by the French police over released 
 prisoners ; and condemns still more emphatically the 
 punishment of transportation under all its forms. This last 
 feature in the Report is noticeable for its date. In 1832, 
 little attention had yet been aroused to the mischievous 
 consequences of transportation as practised in our own 
 country — consequences now so generally admitted. Our 
 example, indeed, had just then been urged for French imita- teruly*"!!"- 
 tion bv an author, M. deBlosse, whose work was laureated 'emaudtint 
 by the F'rench Academy. The creation of special reformatory tauon beimc 
 prisons for juvenile delinquents is also one of the recoinmen- "" " ""'' 
 datious of this pregnant Report. Its authors, as is usual in 
 
88 DE TOCQUEYILLE'S POLITICS. 
 
 such cases, found it uphill work to carry into operation the 
 reforms they recommended ; but both of them had oppor- 
 tunity to urge their views on the attention of the Chamber 
 of Deputies, and important improvements were gradually 
 effected in the Prench prisons. 
 Besuita of The immediate results, however, pale their fires before 
 
 De Tocque- , ^ i i • i • 
 
 vi]ie'B mis- the grand result which came but incidentally from the mis- 
 riea. '"°" sion of 1831 ; for to it we owe a masterpiece in political 
 literature. Here, also, the date is an important element 
 towards due appreciation. There had already been plenty of 
 travellers in the then "United States," with much curiosity 
 and ample note-books. But the great majority of them 
 had been engrossed by the pettiest objects. Not a few 
 had profited by an openhanded hospitality to turn into 
 ridicule the manners, and to caricature the faihngs of their 
 The Poiiti. hosts. Very different was the ambition of M. de Tocque- 
 
 cal Career of -ii tt l !■ ■ l 
 
 AiexisaeToc- viliB. Hc was uot B republican, either by conviction or 
 queviiie. i^y self-seeking. Himself an accomplished member of the 
 polished aristocracy of France, he was little likely to over- 
 look the absence in America of many courtesies and orna- 
 ments, materially conducive to the charms of social life. 
 But he carried with him the memory of Revolutions which 
 had terribly disturbed the elegant repose of people who 
 persist in mistaking shadows for substances. In his child- 
 hood he had heard of the prisons of the Terror, from the 
 lips of those whose lives they had blighted, and had wit- 
 nessed the plaudits which welcomed the veterans who had 
 traversed Europe in triumph. In his youth he had twice 
 seen foreign armies overrunning his native land. At his 
 outset in public life, he beheld a king driven swiftly into 
 exile, and a luxurious capital laid at the mercy of in- 
 surgents, many of whom were in want of bread. In 
 America, as he saw it, in 1831-32, he found apparent 
 
"DKMOCKACY IN AMEEICA." 89 
 
 Stability, instead of incessant revolution ; peaceful enjoy- 
 ment of the fruits of indastry, instead of habitual panic ; an 
 almost universal possession of many of the comforts as well 
 as of the mere necessaries of life, instead of the frequent 
 contrasts between lavish splendour and utter penury; 
 and he thought the causes of such disparities must be 
 worth investigating. He certainly had not travelled over 
 the length and breadth of the United States, in such years 
 as 1831 and 1832, without seeing the social landscape in 
 all its aspects, and under all its phases of atmospheric 
 change. He had witnessed disgraceful scenes of popular 
 violence and folly, which induced a friend to ask him how 
 it was possible that he could write of them with such good 
 humour and kindly forbearance. " Ah !" he replied, " had 
 you, like me, been bred up amidst all the miseries of in- 
 security, political and personal, you would have learned to 
 view the worst that happens in America with calmness." 
 
 At the age of thirty -two, De TocqueviUe had already burst 
 into European reputation by hLs famous treatise. American 
 society and manners ; the constitution and the dangers of 
 the Union ; had been the themes of a score of books, but De 
 Tocqueville's book was the first which analyzed the me- /""= i"^ 
 
 V10U8 career 
 
 chanLsm and disclosed the motive-power of the body of the Author 
 politic. The production of a mind thoroughly cultivated ucut." 
 as well as deeply reflective, it was scarcely more remarkable 
 for its contents than for its tacit suppressions. The author's 
 attention was almost exclusively bent on that working 
 out of great social problems which the then United States 
 had offered to his view. But his forbearance proceeded 
 from no lack of power to describe, incisively, the pheno- 
 mena which lie on the surface of social life, or to paint with 
 vividness the natural beauties of what to most European 
 readers is still a " ^aw World." What he could do in 
 
90 DE TOCQUEVILLE'S ADMISSION INTO ACADEMY. 
 
 that department may be seen in the pages of the Bevue des 
 deux Mondes. In his great work, he debarred himself from 
 these attractive topics, in spite of the temptation which 
 such powers present. He had pondered both the realities 
 and the semblances which America ofPers to the seeing eye, 
 under the influence of impressions, gained in Prance, which 
 were destined to colour his M^hole life. The traditions of 
 the great overturn of 1793, and of the conquests and fall 
 of Napoleon, were his youthful memories. With the Re- 
 volution of 1830 he had been in close personal contact. 
 What he saw in the States gave him the conviction that the 
 inevitable transition from old to new, which in his own 
 country was still causing such rendings of society, might 
 possibly be brought about at less cost. And to teach the 
 lesson he had learnt, or believed himself to have learnt, 
 was, thenceforth, the main object of his labours. 
 
 In the Institute he succeeded the Count de Cessac, one 
 of the ablest of Napoleon's administrators, who had lived 
 long enough to receive his old master's remains at the 
 Invalides. But it was not simply because they succeeded 
 men the prime of whose lives had been passed under the 
 DeTocque- Empire, or because recent events had roused the old echoes, 
 lom-se of^re- ^^^^ ^^ thoughts of meu who had to speak at the Institute 
 cepiion. seemed drawn so repeatedly and so irresistibly to the era 
 of Napoleon. They saw the continued vitality of the seed 
 which Napoleon had sown, and which has since borne such 
 conspicuous fruit. De Tocqueville thought that French- 
 men under Napoleon were at remoter distance from 
 liberty, than at any preceding period of their history. The 
 Empire, in his view, owed its splendour " to its accidents." 
 " Napoleon was as great as a man can be, without virtue. 
 He carried through an unexampled enterprise. He 
 rebuilt the whole social edifice, in order to make it a 
 
DE TOCQUEVILLE AND MOht ON NAPOLEON. 91 
 
 convenient dwelling-place for despotism," In replying to 
 this address, Count Mole— the President of the day — was 
 as vigorous and as trenchant as his adversary. The only 
 "accident" of the Empire, he said, was the Emperor. 
 With Napoleon, "despotism" was, not the end, but the 
 means — and the only means — of forcing the swollen river count moi^'s 
 back into its bed ; of restoring to revolutionized France the 
 habits of order and obedience ; of giving her the time for 
 needful oblivion ; of opening, to all, a new era. And 
 the end was to make Erance the greatest country on earth. 
 " Such was Napoleon, as I saw him. But do not think I am 
 less truthful than you are. It is not I who will dissimulate 
 a tittle of the misfortune he drew upon France. He wanted 
 the knowledge where to set the limits of possibihty, and 
 the conviction that Truth and Justice are the best means of 
 governing men, simply because they are Truth and Justice. 
 Napoleon was, himself, the child of that eighteenth century 
 which he arraigned so sternly. He lived only by the intel- 
 lect. He had faith only in the intellect. He believed 
 that, in the beginning, the world belonged to the strongest, 
 and that civilization had handed it over to the cleverest. He 
 dreaded, above all things, the rule of the majority, as being, 
 under one form or other, the sole return to violence and bar- 
 barism which, in our times, is possible." Count Mole 
 closed his speech by a touching allusion to the illustrious Moies le- 
 grandfather of the new Academician : — " I still see his Lamoignon 
 venerable face, covered with tears. T/iat will tell you when M,,esteibe». 
 it was that I saw him. He had just ended his sublime 
 task, and awaited its recompense — the scaffold. But, sir, 
 it was not in America, it was not amidst a pure democracy, 
 that the soul of Malesherbes had built itself up." 
 
 The first portion of the treatise De la Democratic en 
 
in America.'' 
 
 92 "DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA." 
 
 Amerique was published in Paris in 1835, It reached its 
 fifth edition in 1838, and its thirteenth edition in 1850; 
 was quickly translated into EngHsh by Mr. Henry Reeve, 
 into Spanish by Sanchez de Bustamante, and into German 
 by F. A. Alider. In 1836, the French Academy awarded 
 to it the Monthyon prize. In 1839, the second part ap- 
 peared in two volumes, like the former part. As usual, 
 the continuation was not received with quite so much favour 
 as its predecessor. In this instance there is cause, I think, 
 for the opinion, that its distinctive merits themselves, as well 
 as its distinctive defects, somewhat lessened its popularity. 
 Seminal Thc scmlual idea of this famous book is, that the irre- 
 " Democracy sistiblc teudeucy of Amcricau institutions, and of American 
 thought, towards the utmost possible equalization of human 
 conditions, is the counterpart of a substantially similar ten- 
 dency in Europe, but is, in America, so developing itself, 
 as to exhibit at once the ultimate benefits and the contin- , 
 gent perils which that equalization enfolds. In De Tocque- 
 ville's opinion, therefore, to portray America is, in a certain 
 sense, to prefigure Europe; in substance, that is, by no 
 means necessarily in form ; and with the important qiiah- 
 fication, that American experience may possibly so influence 
 European opinion, as to make attainable the benefits, and 
 avoidable the perils, of a solution of the great social pro- 
 blem, which, in the main, he believes to be inevitable. 
 Equality of political power, — and an approach even to 
 equality of condition, speaking broadly, — must, he thinks, 
 be realized in Europe as well as in America. Wise and 
 moderate advances on the part of those who wield govern- 
 ment or sway opinion, wiU, in his opinion, help tojealize it 
 safely. Unwise and indiscriminating resistance may re- 
 tard its coming, but must at last embitter its unavoidable 
 rule. 
 
"DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA." 93 
 
 In Part I, after describina; the external confieuration of ^n^iy^'^ "f 
 
 O _ _ ° . the "Demo- 
 
 North America, and the starting-point of its colonists, he cracyinAme- 
 
 shows what they brought with them. He singles out that 
 old principle of local self-government, from whence all the 
 existing institutions of the country have grown, and traces 
 its progress and its ramifications. He examines the several 
 institutions of the States, marks the growth of their jxu'is- 
 prudence, and the formation of political opinion. He shows 
 how it has come to pass that, in the most rigorous sense 
 of the words, " the people governs ;" that not only are the 
 institutions democratic, but all their developments and 
 modes of working are also democratic; that in America the 
 people virtually elect both the law-maker and the adminis- 
 trator of law, whilst itself is the jury which, if it like the law, 
 punishes those who break the law. He dissects the federal 
 constitution, and reconstructs it from its elements, bringing 
 saliently out these three main facts : — (1) That the majority 
 is everywhere and in everything omnipotent ; (2) that the 
 peace, prosperity, and even the very existence of the Union, 
 lie immediately in the hands of the Supreme Federal Court, 
 " the true moderator," as he terms it, " of the democracy ;" 
 (3) that the higher and ultimate security of political free- 
 dom, and all that it involves, lies, on the one hand, in the 
 absence of administrative centralisation ; on the other, in 
 the universal diff'usion of education, property, and the sense 
 of inherent and inalienable rights, throughout the entire 
 community. There is no winking either at the vices or at 
 the perils of democracy. In speaking of the absolute sub- 
 jection even of the press to the will of the majority, there 
 is such plain-speaking as this: — "No writer, whatever 
 his renown, can escape from the obUgation to burn incense 
 before his countrymen. The majority Kves in perpetual 
 self-worship. Disagreeable truths reach the ears of Amen- 
 
94 WRITINGS OF DE TOCQUEVILLE. 
 
 cans only from the voice of a foreigner, or from the lessons 
 of experience."* Elsewhere he says, — " / know no country 
 in which there is, usually, less independence of mind, less 
 real freedom of discussion, than in America."^ These 
 words will seem, to som« minds, to involve, imphcitly, a 
 prediction of what has happened. It has been said by 
 acute observers, that the want of really free discussion has 
 been not the least influential amongst the many causes of 
 the disastrous civil war. But in marking defects, there is, 
 in De Tocqueville, no clamour, no invective, no disdain ; 
 uniformly, the anxiety is to indicate a remedy. 
 
 Thus far the author had a solid framework of facts, of 
 institutions, of measurable and computable results. His 
 book is a masterpiece of systematic construction. All its 
 parts unite and converge towards weighty and definite 
 conclusions. In advancing to the second part, the demar- 
 cations of the subject become necessarily less distinct. 
 There he has to treat of the influence of democracy on 
 (1) intellectual progress ; on (2) public feeling {sentiments); 
 on (3) manners ; on (4) political society. It is much easier 
 to criticise this arrangement than to suggest a better one ; 
 to say, for instance (as is obvious), that "public feeling" 
 is very closely allied both with intellectual progress and 
 with manners. A more serious objection may perhaps lie 
 to the universality of the influences ascribed to the one 
 passion for political and social equality. But an excessive 
 estimation of a great subject is probably the unavoidable 
 condition on which we receive great works. At all events, 
 it is certain that the modifications and minor adjustments 
 of any such subject may easily come afterwards, and that 
 minds of smaller calibre will suffice for the task. To the 
 
 * De la D^mocraUe, &c., treizieme edition, i, 309. 
 t Id., i, 307. 
 
"DEMOCEACY IN AMERICA." 95 
 
 discoverer of an untrodden region in the world of thought, 
 we can forgive some exaggeration of its treasures. 
 
 The wide survey here taken of American society in all its Tiiekaaons 
 phases, results, on the whole, in a genial estimate of the fiom-M™..- 
 present, and in far too hopeful auguries of the future. But ^^''y'"*"'"- 
 in describing the intellectual and social results of demo- 
 cracy as they unfold themselves in America, there is as little 
 suppression of the unfavourable features as there was in the 
 analysis of its political results. Thus, for example, in a 
 chapter of the second part, which treats of the special im- 
 portance to democratic communities of the remoter aims 
 of human action, there occurs this passage : — " As soon as ' 
 men cease to place their grand aims at a great distance, 
 they are naturally impelled to seek the immediate realiza- 
 tion of their pettiest desires ; as if, desparing to live eter- 
 nally, they must needs act as though they had but a single 
 day to live." This is a warning, for proof of the per- 
 tinency of which we need not look so far afield as to Ame- 
 rica. Much of the book has a like home applicability. 
 There are keen censures in it, which consist simply in 
 putting facts under the light, but the facts so lighted up 
 are by no means exclusively of American growth. This, 
 I think, is one of the causes why the second part was not, 
 like the first, highly lauded in articles, the entire drift and 
 spirit of which was in antagonism with the book reviewed. 
 Instead of this, a reader may perhaps find in one number 
 of a literary journal loud praise, and in another number of 
 the same journal an assertion that " those who follow De 
 Tocqueville are pantheists in politics, and will soon come 
 to pantheism in religion,"* — a hit, assuredly, very wide 
 of the mark. To me it seems that the deficiencies in the 
 book really most obnoxious to criticism are (1), the absence 
 
 * Quarterly Review, livi, 493. 
 
96 DE TOCQUEVILLE IN THE CHAMBER. 
 
 of any adequate estimate of the political effects of tlie wide 
 extent of sparsely-peopled territory in America ;* and (2); 
 the utterly insufficient view which is given of the influences 
 of Protestantism on the American people ; both of them, 
 it may be noted, points which are likely to be very 
 differently regarded in France and in Britain. That Demo- 
 cracy in America is the work of a mind saturated with the 
 past glories of France, alarmed at the perils that visibly 
 obstructed her onward path, and intent, above all things 
 else, on her deliverance, is not its least merit. To make 
 American experience subserve French progress, and to con- 
 vert American mistakes into French safeguards, was the 
 author's constant aim. 
 
 labours in j)g TocqucviUe's political career — as far as respects home 
 
 the Cliamber ... . . 
 
 of Deputies, politics — was in thorough harmony with the pervading 
 patriotism and the lofty qualities of the book, the fame of 
 which was already world-wide before that career began. 
 He was elected to the Chamber of Deputies by the Depart- 
 ment of La Manche in 1839, and in the course of the same 
 year made a valuable report on slavery in the French 
 colonies, proposing its abolition (which was not effected, 
 however, until after the fall of Lewis Philip), with an 
 indemnity to the colonists, as a matter of pubhc utihty, 
 " not as a compensation for the loss of that which no man 
 ever had, or could have, any right to possess,"! a proposi- 
 tion which excited great turmoil amongst the colonists. In 
 February, 1840, and again in April (after the formation of 
 
 * Tet this point was strongly urged upon tlie attention of the fellow- 
 travellers (in relation to the specific object of their mission), by a letter 
 from the Attorney-General of Maryland, written in January, 1832. 
 
 t Happort cm nom d'une Commission .... relative ante Esclaves des 
 Colonies {Proces Verbeaux des Seances de la Chambre des Deputes, 
 Session de 1859). Stance du 23e JuUlet. 
 
DE TOCQTJEVILLE'S ANTICIPATIONS OE 1848. 97 
 
 the Thiers ministry), he strenuously supported motions for 
 limiting the number of public functionaries in the Chamber 
 of Deputies. Repeatedly during that and subsequent 
 years, he laboured in the promotion of improvements in the 
 criminal law, and especially in prison discipline. In 
 1847, as chairman of the Committee on Algiers, he made 
 elaborate reports recommending administrative reform 
 in that colony, and the extension of local powers in second- 
 ary matters; and strongly condemning (1) the prevalent 
 system of attempting to do everything for the colonists, 
 instead of training them to do most things for themselves ; 
 and (2), a particular pet project of the government for 
 military agricultiLral settlements at the public cost,* which 
 was, however, carried out, but with results strongly confir- 
 matory of the opposer's views. His most memorable 
 speech was that made on the 27th January, 1848, in 
 which, in the simplest words, but with the utmost possible 
 incisiveness, he urged every member of the Chamber to put 
 to himself the question, " What must be the end of that 
 electoral corruption and that public scandal which I, indi- 
 vidually, know to exist ?" and then implored the ministers 
 to change a policy which, said he, "makes the ground 
 tremble beneath our feet ;" concluding with these prophetic 
 ^ords — " Is it possible you can be undisturbed by that 
 sough of revolution which is in the wind {vent de revolution 
 qui est dans I'air), which blows we know not whence or 
 whither, and know as little, be assm-ed of that, whom it will 
 whirl away ? Is it at such a moment that you can calmly 
 witness the degradation of public morality ?"t These words 
 
 * Rapport au worn de la Commission charg^e d'examiner le Projet de 
 Loi relatif awx credits extraordinaires demandes powr VAlgerie {Braces ver- 
 haux, &c., Session de 1847, vi, 305 — 410). 
 
 f Discows de M. de Tocqueville, dans la discussion dw Projet d'Ad/fease, 
 Seance du 27 Janv., 1848 {Moniteur, 28th Jan., 1854). 
 
 7 
 
98 DE TOCQUEVILLE IN OEFICE. 
 
 were timely. They were uttered exactly four weeks before; 
 the Revolution of February ; but many ears are deaf to the 
 wisest charmer. 
 PoHtirai After that revolution, the Department of La Manche re- 
 trRepubS; turned M. de Tocqueville to the National Assembly by a 
 and the Em- majority of 110,711 votes over his next competitor. He 
 leonin. was third on a list of fifteen names. He voted for the 
 banishment of the House of Orleans ; became vice-president 
 of the Committee of Public Instruction, and a member of 
 the Committee on the Constitution, and took a very notice- 
 able part in the discussions on the "rights of labour." In 
 one of his speeches on this topic^ the socialistic theories, 
 were, for the first time in the National Assembly, fairly 
 grappled with. He branded " sociahsm " as an energetic 
 and pertinacious appeal to the lower passions of mankind ; 
 as a system of which the basis was a thorough mistrust- 
 of liberty, a hearty contempt for man individually ;:;as,;ih a 
 word, a lust for the old servitude in a new livery. In 
 1849, after representing France at the Brussels Congress^; 
 he became Minister of Foreign Affairs, and in that, 
 capacity he strenuously vindicated the policy of the memo- 
 rable expedition to Rome, to which, in its origin, he had i 
 not been a party, and the ultimate direction of which was 
 to fall into quite other hands. The defence, assuredly con- 
 scientious, seems to me just as certainly fallacious. Here, 
 however, it can neither be described nor appreciated. But. 
 it must be mentioned that one of the chief grounds of that 
 defence in his mouth was, that the expedition tended "to, 
 prevent a return of the old abuses. . . . You must: never," 
 he told the Assembly, "lose sight of that which now be- 
 comes the main point, — that we desire to secure to the\ 
 States of the Church really liberal institutions."* 
 
 * Disconrs de M. de Tocqueville, &o., 6 Aout, 1849 {Moniteur, 7tli Aug. 1849). 
 
DE TOCQUEVILLE ON THE OLD MONARCHY. 99 
 
 M. de Tocqueville's ministry of foreign affairs lasted only- 
 five months. When (31st Oct., 1849) the President sent 
 his significant message, declaring that the old parties must 
 no longer be permitted to " renew their factious struggle," 
 and that the suffrage of the people had " adopted, not a 
 man, but an entire system of policy," the Ministry in a 
 body resigned. The brief remainder of M. de Tocque- 
 ville's political life was passed in firm opposition to that 
 " entire system." Very happily, four years of vigour were 
 left him for the production of a noble book — L'Ancien his work 
 BSffime et la Revolution — of which all that can here be °Mon'archy 
 said is, that it is more than worthy of the author of Demo- 
 cracy in America. This work was published in 1856. M. 
 de Tocqueville died at Cannes on the 16th April, 1859. 
 The political horizon was then very dark. The institu- 
 tions he loved, and to which he had been an honour, were 
 suppressed. The servility he hated was rampant. But he 
 knew that liberty has sometimes been more wisely used, 
 and more highly valued, for its temporary loss, and that no 
 prescription can bar the rights of a people. He had, too, 
 a title to console himself with the thought that in his last 
 book he had left to his countrymen an excellent manual of 
 poUtical study and aspiration. It is a legacy which the 
 most gifted in the long and glorious line of French pub- 
 licists might have been proud to bequeath. 
 
 and the 
 Uevolution. 
 
100 ALFRED DE VIGNY AND COUNT MOLfi. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE ENCOUNTER OF ALFRED DE VIGNY AND COUNT MOL^. 
 
 At the date — 1846 — of the entrance into the Academy 
 of Count Alfred de Vigny, — by whose death Prance has 
 just lost one of the worthiest of her men of letters, — there 
 was already in the air, the sure signs of a coming poHtical 
 storm. But those must have been keen observers, indeed, 
 who could, as yet, anticipate a second Empire. Still, it 
 was again the Napoleonic ideas and the Napoleonic remi- 
 niscences that gave rise to the most notable passage of 
 arms of a day memorable in the Academy's annals. 
 
 Etienne, De Vigny's predecessor, had been distinguished 
 both as a journalist and as a dramatic author. De Vigny 
 began his speech by classifying men of letters into two 
 main divisions — the thinkers and the improvisators. The 
 thinkers working for posterity ; dreading haste ; paying 
 little regard to the hubbub around them ; aiming at perfec- 
 tion. The improvisators working rapidly and impetuously 
 for an immediate result ; studying the passing interests and 
 tempers of the hour, both as means and as ends ; content- 
 ing themselves if they can but domineer over their contem- 
 poraries. In the course of an animated retrospect of the 
 life and writings of Etienne, — whom he classed, of course, 
 with the " improvisators," — he dwelt, with evident enjoy- 
 ment, on the fortunes of a comedy, famous in its time, 
 
Iticident in 
 the cureei' of 
 his predeces- 
 sor. 
 
 NAPOLEON AS A DRAMATIC CENSOR. 101 
 
 called L Intrigante, which had been produced, before 
 Napoleon himself, at Saint Cloud. He depicted the secret ^e vigny'a 
 disquiet which seemed to pervade society, at that epoch, ir™ception. 
 "like an epidemic." Power, he said, intoxicated with 
 victory and freed from all outward check, had lost its self- 
 control. It sought to dispose even of marriages, in accord- 
 ance with political calculations and dynastic interests. Lists 
 of heiresses were drawn up, and too freq>iently an all- 
 powerful finger pointed to names. In Etienne's comedy, 
 the half-smothered discontent found expression. When 
 the actor — and the actor was Fleury — uttered the then 
 startling verses : — 
 
 " Si je eers mon pays, si j'observe ses lois, 
 O'est a son tour I'Etat qui garantit mes di'oits. 
 Mon respect pour la cour a souveut eclate, 
 Et nul n'est plus soumis a son autorite. 
 Mais que peut-elle faire a I'liymen de ma fiUe ? 
 Je suis sujet du prince, et roi dans ma famiUe :" — 
 
 the audience was excited, and the Emperor himself rose 
 from his seat. " The shaft had struck home. The comedy 
 was immediately interdicted, and the very type in which it 
 had been set up for the press 'was seized by the police." 
 And here De Vigny introduced a parenthetical reflection to 
 which subsequent events have given a but too significant 
 gloss : — " Thanks to the fortune of Erance, we are now 
 far removed from those strokes of absolute power, which 
 doubtless will never recur, and which even glory could not 
 excuse. The generation I belong to, which from youth 
 upwards has breathed no air but that of parliamentary 
 freedom, finds it difficult to believe that any denser atmo- 
 sphere can have been tolerated." 
 
 The president of the Academy at this reception was, 
 again. Count Mole. Mole was then one of the very few 
 surviving statesmen who had held familiar intercourse with 
 
103 MOLE'S CRITICISMS ON CINQ-MABS. 
 
 Napoleon. He had known the Emperor in his strength 
 and in his weakness. He had rendered good service to 
 Trance, both under Napoleon and after him. By his 
 recollections, as well as by his sympathies, he was impelled 
 to take up the gauntlet, so boldly thrown. 
 Moi6>sriew Iq accordance with custom, a copy of the new member's 
 
 of Napoleon , 111! 
 
 and his policy mtcudcd spccch had been given to the president beforehand. 
 The MS. contained a strong metaphor about slaves and 
 janissaries, which, in delivery, had been omitted. Count 
 Mole, after dexterously complimenting the orator on the 
 brilliancy of his description of scenes and events, " at which 
 his hearers might well have supposed him to have been 
 present," proceeded to assure him that neither M. Etienne 
 nor he. Mole, himself, had ever been acquainted with any 
 of those French families who had been forced to withdraw 
 by flight from " firmans which awarded a young slave to a 
 janissary," as the guerdon of his services. M. Etienne, he 
 admitted, might have had reason to regret that in those 
 days there were parents whose ambition or cupidity 
 prompted them to marry their daughters in accordance, 
 rather with the presumed wishes of the ruler, than with 
 their own inclinations, but " never," he repeated, " were 
 there, amongst us, either slaves or janissaries." 
 
 Mole then proceeded to analyse, with great abihty and 
 
 in a very incisive style, although from a narrow point of 
 
 view, the more remarkable works of the new Academician. 
 
 He dwelt especially on the limitations which the poet — in 
 
 verse or in prose — ought to impose on himself, in dealing 
 
 Count with historical events and real persons. He alleged that 
 
 ci3m9°on"iie 1" Cifiq-Mars we have veritable history drest, artistically 
 
 SnTncirt. ' indeed, but drest as a romance. The facts are borrowed 
 
 from French annals, but there are very few facts to which 
 
 the author's fertile imagination has left their identity. Had 
 
HIS ESTIMATE OF RICHELIEU. 103 
 
 I)e Vigiiy contented himself with resuscitating, for the 
 necessities of the drama, Father Joseph, — who in plain fact 
 died four years earlier, — and with converting into a hero 
 the hot-headed and presumptuous favourite, of two and 
 twenty, who was willing to hand France over to foreigners, 
 so that he might but be freed from the control of the 
 too-powerful Minister, it would suffice, perhaps, to ask 
 him whether such liberties did not put a somewhat serious 
 strain upon his own avowed maxim : " Truth in art"? But 
 why had he reduced to such mean proportions one of the 
 greatest statesmen of modern times ? Richelieu's ambition, ^''^ """ 
 in Count Mole s judgment, never had any other aim than racter ana of 
 the power and exaltation of France. By him, France had ofRicheUer 
 been endowed with national unity, at the same time that 
 the royal authority had been organized on a firm basis. 
 Doubtless, Richeheu had too little borne in mind that 
 clemency is often the best counsellor of kings. But, by 
 destroying the formidable powers which had vied with the 
 crown, he, first, had made room for the obscure, and had 
 subserved those plans of Divine Providence which were 
 already written over his head, although in a region which 
 his gaze could not reach. To Count Mole's mind, such 
 men belong to Truth, not to Fiction. To blend them into 
 romantic combinations is likely rather to dwarf them, than 
 to delineate. And, finally, he reminded both Academicians 
 and auditory that it ought not to be thought strange if, in 
 the midst of a society of which Richelieu had been the 
 founder, a voice should be raised to recall his glory and to 
 defend his memory. Whatever our estimate of the defence, 
 either of Napoleon or of Richelieu, it must have been 
 impossible to listen to this address without admiring the 
 vigour of the orator. Men like Count Mole bore some 
 share in paving the way for Napoleon III, without quite 
 intending it. 
 
]04 MONTALEMBERT AND LACOEDAIRE. 
 
 cal 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE COUNT DE MONTALEMBEKT, AND THE ABB^ 
 LACORDAIEE. 
 
 Under the rule of Napoleon III, the Institute has been 
 enlarged. Some details of its organization have been 
 modified. But no change has been made — or none of 
 importance — in the constitution of the French Academy. 
 The most striking "receptions" have been those of the 
 Count de Montalembert and of the Abbe Lacordaire. The 
 former entered the Academy in 1852, within two months 
 f'^cLeef of °^ ^^^ ^'^^/^ d'Etat, and the introduction of such a man. 
 
 the Count de at such a time, into the one public arena in Prance in which 
 
 Moiitalem- ... 
 
 bert. freedom of speech is, at once, a tradition of the past, and a 
 
 weapon of the present, naturally excited more than usual 
 expectation. This distinguished man had been, for a 
 while, one of the preachers of that ephemeral gospel which 
 sought to combine, at least a close approximation towards 
 ultramontanism in rehgion, with a large measure of radi- 
 cahsm in politics. And, for many years, M. de Montalem- 
 bert was among the most eminent and most pertinacious 
 of the opponents of the policy of King Lewis Philip. 
 Very early in 1848, he had foretold a Republic, and when 
 it came, he ofiered it his services. His repeated contests 
 with Victor Hugo, in the Legislative Assembly, had kept 
 him much before the public. He had supported the 
 
MONTALEMBEET'S SPEECH TO THE ACADEMY. 105 
 
 restrictive laws on the press, and the expedition to Rome. 
 In 1851, he went so far as to say that the thing Trance 
 most needed was a " Roman expedition at home." And 
 now, the thing wished for liad come, although scarcely in 
 the form anticipated. 
 
 The Academical chair on this occasion was filled by M. ^'^ ""''f- 
 
 _^ . _ . "^ tion at the 
 
 (jmzot, whose voice, once so potent, had been unheard in Academy. 
 pubhc during four years. The deceased member, M. Droz, 
 had been amongst the historians of the great Revolution, 
 once again brought vividly before men's minds by its 
 newest developments, and now to be, by the incoming 
 member, vigorously arraigned and condemned in all its 
 phases. M. de Montalembert praised his predecessor for 
 having, under Charles X, criticised with severity the 
 political opposition of that day, which " already was under- 
 mining the throne." He quoted, with strong approval, a 
 passage written by M. Droz twenty-six years before : — 
 " When they give us the Republic, we shall have one day 
 of liberty, and many days of tyranny — the ' liberty,' under 
 the mob ; the ' tyranny,' under some despot or other." 
 But M. de Montalembert omitted to remind the Academy 
 that his predecessor's name was, at that very date, recorded 
 on one of the most honourable pages of its own history. It 
 should not, at such a time, have been overlooked that it 
 was not a mob that drew up the " law of Justice and Love," 
 against which M. Droz, together with a majority of his 
 fellow- Academicians — as much attached to wise order and 
 good government as any Frenchmen who have ever lived — 
 had so strenuously and so successfully protested. 
 
 In characterizina; Droz's History of the Revolution, the M.aeiaon- 
 
 " ■'. talembert'a 
 
 orator spoke of the repeated illusions which had led men summary of 
 to treat the Revolution as a bygone event. " What we, tiolofim" 
 like our fathers, have regarded as the entire work, was but 
 
106 montalembert's estimate of revolution. 
 
 a chapter. The Revolution has resumed its course. Qnce 
 again, it has outstripped our worst fears. It has deceived 
 aUke the prudent and the bold. It has put all the fools in 
 the right, and has given confidence to every scoundrel." 
 With a passing allusion to certain system-mongers who ha;d 
 pretended to affiliate democracy upon Christianity, and to 
 make the Revolution a Commentary on the Gospels, he 
 proceeded to lay the whole bm-den of the revolutionary 
 crimes on the Constituent Assembly of 1789. " It treated 
 Prance as a conquered country. ... By proclaiming the 
 right of the State over Church property, it deposited in our 
 institutions . . the germ of Communism. . . . Open 
 the Moniteur, change the names and the dates ; and you 
 will find there the first editions of the doctrines which hav6 
 most alarmed contemporary Europe." The Constituent, he 
 contended, did not, indeed, abolish the monarchy, "but 
 gave it up, disarmed, chained, degraded, with a sceptre of 
 reed and a crown of thorns, to the executioners in the 
 rear." This too sweeping indictment was summed up in 
 the words : — " Let us have the courage to say it — ^in the 
 face of verdicts of history and menaces of the future — the 
 Revolution of 1789, shaping itself as it did, has been 
 nothing but a blood-stained inutility." 
 M. deMon- Morc thau once, and vdthout any insincerity on his part, 
 poutorposi- passing circumstances have placed M. de Montalembert in 
 tion i and his g^j-^ exceptioual position, and have made him appear — 
 
 services m ^ y ' A * 
 
 otuerspheres especially to EugHsh readers of French literature — as a 
 combatant for opinions which he has never really held. If 
 closely examined, his career will be found to have been 
 substantially consistent with the principles which thirty 
 years ago led the famous triumvirate of L'Jvenir to visit 
 Rome. Nor can any career better vindicate the assertion, 
 then made by Gregory XVI to Montalembert, Lacordaire, 
 
THE EMINENT SEEYICES OF MONTALEMBEET. 107 
 
 and La Mennais, that implicit fidelity to the Papacy and 
 consistent " liberalism" in politics cannot long cohere. But 
 it must never be forgotten that in other than political 
 spheres of action M. de Montalembert has rendered great 
 and brilliant service to some of the best of social interests. 
 Those who are old enough to call to mind the first appear- 
 ance of the treatise Du Vandalisme dans V Art, will ever 
 retain a reverent love for its author, as one who fought a 
 good fight in evil times. Those who have read, but 
 yesterday, the eloquent and graceful History of the Monks 
 of the West, will acknowledge in his latest work a substan- 
 tially truthful and worthy monument raised to men who 
 played an important part in the world, and played it well ; 
 whatever may be the difference of view between writer and 
 readers on the great qiiestions of the passing day, and on 
 the degree to which monastic work and monastic aims are 
 now but the things of a bygone time. 
 
 M. Guizot's reply was strikingly moderate and statesman- 
 like. He showed that it was possible to recognise at once 
 what was truly great in the old monarchy and what was m. Guizot-s 
 timely and useful in the governments which have succeeded aeMontaiemi 
 it. He then glanced at the history of the Academy itself: ''^'''• 
 " In paying due homage to Richelieu and Lewis XIV, it 
 has never subjugated its thoughts, or its hopes. It regrets 
 neither absolute power, nor the illusions of universal 
 monarchy. I have some right to affirm that it holds 
 Liberty of Conscience to be sacred, and deplores the Revo- 
 cation of the Edict of Nantes." These words are weighty, 
 and are in wholesome contrast with such utterances as that 
 which was delivered, on the same spot, a few years later, 
 when Bishop Dupanloup asserted the Clergy to be " under 
 no obligation to Christian humility," when " they are de- 
 fending the cause of God, or the cause of the Church" 
 
108 THE EAELY CAREER OF LACORDAIRE. 
 The Ahu Jean Baptiste Henri Lacordaire was one of four brothers, 
 
 Lacordaiie. ^ 
 
 born in the first four years of the present century at 
 Recey-sur-Ource, in the department of the Cote d'Or, all 
 of whom have attained distinction in their several pursuits. 
 He was educated with a view to the bar, but, after devoting 
 two years to legal studies in Paris, with good promise of 
 success, he became dissatisfied with the calling, and de- 
 termined to enter the Church. He received priest's orders 
 in 1827, and made his first appearance in polemical litera- 
 ture on the estabhshment, in October, 1830, of the cele- 
 brated journal L'Avenir. 
 
 For two years, Lacordaire, La Mennais, and Count de 
 Montalembert, laboured zealously to preach the conjoint 
 supremacy of the clergy in religion, and of universal 
 sufirage in politics, through the columns of L'Avenir. 
 " God and Liberty ; the Pope and the People ;" such was 
 its motto. But, at the end of that period, Gregory XVI 
 condemned these doctrines, and laid an interdict on the 
 newspaper. The three chief writers betook themselves to 
 Rome, and there they definitively parted company. On 
 his return to Paris, the Abbe Lacordaire announced "his 
 absolute submission to the Holy Father, and his determina- 
 tion to know no other guide than the Church ; no other 
 necessity than union ; no other ambition than that of 
 rallying around the Holy See, and the Bishops whom Divine 
 Grace and Mercy have bestowed upon the Christians of 
 Prance." 
 
 This Confession of Paith Pather Lacordaire, in subse- 
 quent years, fully carried out. His many eccentricities lay 
 on the surface. In substance, he was always the thorough- 
 going but the really honest and devout advocate of the 
 Papacy. If, on one occasion, he claimed as the distinctive 
 boast of the Roman clergy that they " never despair of 
 
The heroes 
 of the Chris- 
 
 LACOEDAIEE'S "CHRISTIAN HEROES." 109 
 
 truth, of justice, and of the liberty of the Human Bace"* 
 he presently illustrated his conceptions of those terms by 
 eulogising that " Christian chivalry which took under its 
 protection the sacred weakness of the Church," and one 
 of the finest examples of which he recognises in Simon de t'™ Church, 
 
 ■»«-/• 1 . . . . according to 
 
 Montiort, the extirpator of the Albigenses.f Dominic Lacordaire. 
 and Montfort, he says, " were the two heroes of the war 
 of the Albigenses, the one as knight, the other as priest." | 
 The city which witnessed some of the worst atrocities of 
 the Inquisition ; within whose walls the Massacre of St. 
 Bartholomew had one of its most terrible repetitions; 
 whose inhabitants looked on at the judicial murder of the 
 family of Calas, in the middle of the eighteenth century ; 
 was to the Abbe Lacordaire " like a lamp lighted by the 
 holy doctrines of the good, the beautiful, and the noble." 
 Prance, Spain, and Italy form " a sanctified zone of the 
 world," of which zone, " Toulouse serves as a clasp," . . . 
 " keeping in her guard, as the purest and most splendid 
 symbol of the faith, the body of St. Thomas Aquinas."^ 
 
 By Father Lacordaire, his Academical honours — had hfe 
 been prolonged — would, probably, have been prized rather 
 as a weapon than as a crown. There is a curious episode 
 in one of his earlier lectures respecting Erasmus : — " You 
 all know Erasmus, gentlemen ; — ^he was, in his day, the first 
 Academician in the world. On the eve of the tempests 
 which were to shake Europe and the Church, he wrote 
 prose with the most consummate elasticity. All the world 
 were at loggerheads, to obtain one of his letters. Princes 
 were proud to correspond with him. But when the 
 
 * Conferences de N. B. de Paris, i, 120. 
 t Vie de St. Dominique, 65. 
 
 X lb., 101. 
 
 § Discours pom la tramlation du chef de S. Thomas d'Aqmn, 42. 
 
110 LACOEDAIEE'S ELECTION INTO THE ACADEMY. 
 
 thundercloud burst ; when it became necessary to devote 
 oneself to error or to truth ; to give, to the one or to the 
 other, speech, glory, and blood itself ; this worthy man had 
 the courage to remain an Academician. He extinguished 
 himself in Rotterdam under phrases, still very elegantly 
 turned, but despicable."* Lacordaire was certainly in no 
 danger of being converted into an Academician of the 
 Erasmian stamp. 
 
 But that fiery spirit, which panted as vehemently, under 
 the white robe of Dominic, for action and for potential 
 influence over men's minds, as ever Simon de Montfort's 
 had panted, beneath his steel habergeon, for warlike fame ; 
 or the keen intellect of Erasmus, under his furred gown, 
 for scholarly predominance; was destined, like theirs, to 
 wear out the mortal covering. Lacordaire entered the 
 Academy in 1860. He died in 1863. 
 
 Thedrcmn- •w]iy did thc EreHch Academy elect the author of the 
 
 stances of the ^ , -» 
 
 Academical Couferences de Notre Dame to the seat which had been 
 "i^OTdlirr vacated by Alexis de Tocqueville ? The answer will turn, 
 not on the Academy's estimate of Lacordaire's literary 
 power, — unquestionable as that was, within its narrow 
 sphere, — but on the pohtical, and also on the personal, cir- 
 cumstances of the moment. When the contest opened, 
 the Academy had before it, as a candidate for the vacant 
 chair, M. Henri Martin, whose Histoire de France it had 
 itself crowned more than once, and whom the public had 
 crowned, in its own pleasant way, more frequently still, by 
 exhausting four editions of his book. It had, as another 
 candidate, the eminent pubUcist and adniinistrator, the 
 Count de Came, whose Etudes sur V Histoire du Gouveme- 
 
 * Le Pere Lacordaire, Orateur, article by Sainte Beuve in Xe Cmgti- 
 iviionnel, 31 Dec., 1849. 
 
 entered the 
 Academy. 
 
HIS WRITINGS AND HIS PITHY SAYINGS. Ill 
 
 ment Bepresentatif en France united literary ability with 
 political timeliness. But it had also before it a certain M. 
 Camille Doucet, the author of a long series of not very 
 brilhant dramas ; the historian, in a fashion, of the wars of 
 the Empire ; and the Superintendent of the department of 
 Theatres, under the Minister of State of the Emperor 
 Napoleon III ; and M. Doucet was understood to be the 
 Emperor's candidate. The contested seat was won, not by 
 the accomplished Historian, or by the eminent Publicist, 
 but by the Dominican Orator. 
 
 The Discourses, and other productions, of Lacordaire The writ- 
 have too much savour in them to be read by any man with sayLgs of 
 indifference. His own animation is so contagious that it ^'"^°'"'™^- 
 is sure to excite either warm esteem, or vivid repugnance. 
 No man, in our own day, has uttered sayings more true, 
 more pregnant, more incisive, or more provokingly anta- 
 gonistic to accepted and well-grounded opinions. " The 
 great barriers of nature," he said on one occasion, — " the 
 huge mountains, the burning sands, the trackless steppes, — 
 prevent the world from being converted into a narrow 
 dungeon, where nothing but steam could be breathed in 
 freedom." On another occasion : " After a century or two 
 from their appearance, only very few of the books, even of 
 the great writers, are read ; and, frequently, it is the man's 
 life that gets his books a reading." On another, " We 
 vanquished Arius, Mahomet, and Luther ; and we founded 
 the temporal power of the Popes. Those are the four 
 crowns of France." Of Pius IX he once said : — " When 
 it is too late, — if it be ever too late to be just, — Italy will 
 raise a statue to the Washington, whom God gave her and 
 whom she rejected T When he deliberately wrote: — 
 " There is nothing in the world more hated than History, 
 by the oppressors of the people and the enemies of God," 
 
113 LACORDAIRE'S LAST WORDS. 
 
 it never occurred to him that if one of his readers were, 
 any morning, on entering his study, to take down his 
 copies of the " Indexes, prohibitory," and of the " Indexes, 
 expurgatory," of Lacordaire's own Church, he might 
 quickly pen a very pithy commentary on that pithy saying. 
 But, with all his incoherencies, the restorer of the Do- 
 minicans in Prance was an honest and a loveable man. 
 Nor is it possible to read the affectionate tribute which the 
 Count de Montalembert has just paid — as much with the 
 heart as with the pen — to his lifelong friend, without some 
 echo arising to the reader's mind, and perhaps to his lips, 
 of Lacordaire's latest prayer, — uttered in the agony of 
 Lacordaire's (jgath : — "Jfy God ! Open to me; open to me." We will 
 
 laat words. e/ ^ -i 
 
 humbly hope that that prayer has been heard. 
 
THE PKIZES OF THE ACADEMY. 113 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE BARON DE MONTYON AND HIS " PRIZES OP VIRTUE." — 
 THE GOBERT PRIZES FOR FRENCH HISTORY. 
 
 Of late years, the distribution of "Prizes" has become 
 a prominent feature in the Academy's proceedings, mainly 
 in consequence of the large bequests made by the Baron 
 de Montyon, and by Baron Napoleon Gobert. In England, 
 social nostrum-mongers, speculative tradesmen, and politi- 
 cians in distress, have given very evil odour to Prize-essays. 
 With Prizes " of Virtue" we have never yet been troubled. 
 
 Gobert's foundation seems to have been the consequence 
 of a genuine literary ambition, weighed down by the con- 
 sciousness of inadequate faculty. " I hope that I may be Baion Go- 
 enabled to do with my possessions what I have not been f„r works c 
 able to do with my mind" are the words which he employs 
 in his last Will. Intensely patriotic and proud of his 
 country — his father had fallen at Baylen, and he was him- 
 self the godchild of Napoleon — Gobert had a burning 
 desire to write French history. Finding that he could not 
 do that worthily, he contented himself with endowing the 
 Academy with valuable prizes, to be given from time to 
 time to the authors of the best works on that subject. 
 Augustin Thierry received from this source 9000 francs a 
 year during sixteen years. Thierry's contributions to French 
 history are too recent and too well known to need either 
 estimate or enumeration at length. So long a retention of 
 
 French His- 
 tory. 
 
114 VILLEMAIN ON THE FUNCTIONS OF HISTOEY. 
 
 hiJtoricri la *^® ^^^^^ History prize will probably be exceptional. But 
 hours paitiy the exccption is honourable both to the writer and to the 
 Gobert Prizes. Academy. The sixteen years during which Thierry enjoyed 
 the prize witnessed the publication of the Ussai sur I'His- 
 toire de la formation et des progres du Tiers-Mat, and of 
 three successive volumes of the Becueil des Monuments de 
 I'Histoire du liers-Etat, as well as of revised editions of the 
 author's preceding and famous works. The second Gobert 
 prize was awarded, in the first instance, to M. Bazin, for 
 his Histoire de Louis XIII, and was retained by him, also, 
 And also uutll lils death, in 1851. M. Henri Martin then obtained 
 HenriMaitin! it for hls Histoire de France, depuis les temps les plus recules. 
 In awarding this prize on behalf of the Academy, M. Ville- 
 main gave an excellent summary of the merits of the book, 
 and concluded it by taking just exception to a phrase which 
 viiieraain clothes in M. Martin's words the thought of not a few 
 o" HiltoiVin writers still more widely known to fame :— " In depicting 
 iottimattag the last hours of the great and terrible Richelieu,— dying 
 great men. gQ peaccfully aftcr so many deeds of vengeance, that a 
 pious bystander could not refrain from saying aloud, ' This 
 is a feeling of safety which affrights me,' — the historian 
 (whose functions this bystander had thus anticipated), 
 shares the proud confidence of the dying man; and contents 
 himself with the reflection : — ' Apparently, these great mes- 
 sengers of Providence feel that they will be judged on 
 principles which the mass of mankind cannot comprehend.' 
 No, Sir, neither in the sight of Divine Providence, nor in 
 the sight of that human conscience which is its noblest 
 work, are there two orders of moral truths — two unequal 
 systems of justice. Do not imagine that, either for a man 
 or for a nation, there is any Dictatorship of genius or of 
 numbers ; any mission — providential or fatal, call it which 
 you will — that gives sanction to violence and wrong. It 
 
THE LIFE AND BEQUESTS OF MONTYON. 115 
 
 is to prove the contrary that we have History, and that to 
 you has been accorded the power of writing it." 
 
 On Augustin Thierry's death, M. Henri Martin suc- 
 ceeded, for one year, to the first prize. The second was 
 divided between two works — one of them being M. 
 Cheruel's historical treatise Be V Administration de Louis 
 XIV. The names of Lavallee, and of Poirson, occur 
 among the subsequent holders of the Gobert Prizes. The 
 Montyon endowments are partly for works of literature, 
 partly for acts of " exemplary beneficence" and " virtue." 
 
 Antoine Jean Baptiste Robert Auget, Baron de Montyon, 
 was born in 1733, and lived until 1820. In the course of 
 that long life he had seen many vicissitudes. In his earlier 
 years he had filled many distinguished offices in the 
 Magistracy of France. He passed many years of exile in 
 England. Possessed of a large fortune, and of wide sympa- 
 thies, one of his main channels of expenditure, whether in 
 office or in exile, consisted in acts of beneficence. In his 
 case, charity was not posthumous, but life-long. 
 
 As early as 1780, he established, in the French Academy, 
 an annual prize of 1200 francs for that work, pubUshed 
 during the year preceding each adjudication, which "should 
 seem most conducive to the temporal well-being of man- 
 kind." In this, and some other like endowments, he 
 invested a capital of 60,000 francs, which was confiscated 
 in the Revolution, and which he subsequently himself 
 replaced. At his death, in 1820, he bequeathed to the 
 Academy a further sum of 20,000 francs, yearly, for ever — 
 one half to be employed in the reward of publications 
 " useful to morals " {utiles aux moeurs) ; the other, in the 
 reward of virtuous and exemplary deeds. He established 
 other prizes, under the guardianship of the Institute, for 
 
116 THE PRIZES OF COUNT DE MAILLE. 
 
 the encouragement of scientific researches and of sanitary 
 improvements, with which I do not here concern myself. 
 And he further bestowed on the Institute an interest in his 
 residuary estate. 
 
 In the administration of the literaiy prizes, the Academy 
 has aimed at the encoirragement of such works, of indis- 
 putable and high utiHty, as yet, from their subjects and 
 character, are Mttle Hkely to bring pecuniary return to their 
 authors. Works on psychology, on ethics, on social 
 economy, on education, on the history of literature, appear 
 in the list of books rewarded, and among the names of 
 their authors are some of the best names of the last and 
 present generations. 
 
 Prizes for " deeds of virtue" trench obviously on very 
 dangerous ground, but in administering them the Academy 
 seems to have displayed remarkable discretion and wisdom. 
 Montyon's gifts have been made to soothe the closing hours 
 of many lives, the vigour of which had been spent in acts 
 of self-devotion — sometimes in acts of lofty though obscure 
 heroism — brought at length into light by no effort of the 
 doers. By judicious management, and wise restriction, the 
 publicity of such rew^ards, — which might easily have become 
 an evil, — has been made the means of much good. 
 
 Tiie bene- Evcry literature has its Chatterton, and every time that 
 the story is vividly retold, or its closing scene depicted 
 once again by a painter of genius, seed is sown which is 
 likely somewhere or other to bear good fruit. The two 
 best known examples, in France, of the untimely nipping 
 of youthful intellect, are linked together both in French 
 poetry and in the annals of French beneficence. The 
 author who Avrote, in a public hospital, the famous 
 verses : — 
 
 ficent prizes 
 of Count de 
 Mail]6 Latour 
 Landrj. 
 
MALFILATRE AND GILBERT. 117 
 
 " Au banquet de la vie, infortune convive, 
 J'apparus un jour, et je meurs," &c., 
 
 had previously written, La /aim mit au tombeau Malfi- 
 Idtre ignore ; and in the Will of Count de Maille Latour 
 Landry, the stories of Gilbert and of Malfilatre, are men- 
 tioned expressly as among the motives vsrhich induced the 
 testator to bequeath to the French Academy, and to the 
 Academy of Fine Arts, 30,000 francs, the interest of which 
 is to be given every alternate year, " to some young writer 
 or artist, poor in circumstances, whose "evident talent and 
 promise may seem to deserve encouragement to pursue its 
 career, either in letters or in the arts." The administra- 
 tion of this bequest is judiciously left to the Academies, 
 in turn, without the publication of their acts, but on their 
 proper responsibility. 
 
118 KETEOSPECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SUMMARY OF THE PRECEDING CHAPTERS THE RECENT 
 
 ELECTIONS. — THE RUMOURED CANDIDATURE OF THE 
 EMPEROR NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Such seem to me to be a few of the chief personages 
 and of the more notable incidents which he scattered 
 amongst the yet uncollected annals of an institution, to 
 which almost every great writer in France, for more than 
 two centuries, has been proud of belonging. Other actors 
 and other incidents may, possibly, have as good a claim to 
 record as those which I have chosen. But enough has 
 been said to vindicate my assertion that in the discussions, 
 the rivalries, the public receptions, and the piiblic rewards, 
 of the French Academy, there lie vivid reflections of those 
 varying aims and tendencies in a great national literature, 
 which mark epochs in the intellectual history of the world 
 at large. 
 
 netrospec- Withlu that Small arena, the mind of France may be seen 
 irtiie Ac" both in its weakness and in its vigour. When Richelieu's 
 demy'a ca- institution was vct in its cradle, inflated and indiscrimi- 
 
 reer. •' 
 
 nating panegyrics, vapid verses, acrostics on the fine eyes 
 of Clelia, or sonnets on Dorinda's dimples, — intermingled 
 with moral essays, in prose of exceeding dullness, — are the 
 staple products. For a time, Lewis the Great, Lewis the 
 Good, even Lewis the Beautiful, is, in the Academic paeans, 
 
a > career i 
 volves. 
 
 WHAT THE ACADEMY HAvS DONE. 119 
 
 sung to all sorts of tunes, until the stock resources of 
 diction and metaphor are exhausted, and the praise can but 
 repeat itself : — 
 
 " Trope nods at trope ; each, figure has a brother, 
 And half the Eloge just reflects the other," 
 
 But, very soon, themes of weight and pregnancy take the 
 place of these puerilities, and are treated worthily. A 
 series of clear and comprehensive appreciations of the 
 Worthies of France, of all classes, — Poets, Warriors, States- wiat su 
 men. Writers, Inventors, — stimulates those budding intel- 
 lects which, in some happy instances, will ripen into the 
 Worthies of a generation to come. The Academy might 
 fairly boast that within its walls the real glory of the 
 Nation began to outshine whatever there was of mere 
 tinsel in the old Monarchy. Prosperous Ministers and 
 haughty Prelates had there, at times, to listen to useful and 
 homely truths. The best intellects of an eminently intel- 
 lectual people were there exerted in honouring, alike the 
 achievements of the greatest minds of France, and deeds 
 of humble self-devotion performed by French peasants. 
 Nowhere have the duties of men of letters, as well as their 
 claims, — the responsibilities as well as the glories of the 
 Pen, — been dwelt upon more impressively than in the hall 
 of the French Institute, the head-quarters of a Literature 
 to which (despite the flood of foulness which has more than 
 once swept over the track of Fenelon and of Racine, of 
 Pascal and of Bossuet) nations near and remote— English- 
 men and Americans, Scandinavians and Spaniards, — will 
 ever lie under deep intellectual indebtedness. 
 
 Such traditions are onerous. In recent years the Aca- 
 demy has shown that it can resist both imperial frowns 
 and imperial flatteries. It has repeatedly asserted the 
 
120 THE EESPOJSrSTBILITIES OP THE ACADEMY. 
 
 liberty of thought and the freedom of speech which else- 
 where seemed, for the time, to have been stricken down. 
 But, in its choice of weapons, it has not always, I think, 
 kept its history in mind. It has sometimes chosen, both 
 for vacant seats and for a temporary leadership, men with 
 minute claims to literary honours, but gifted with fluent 
 and unscrupulous tongues, — men likely to prove thorns to 
 the hand of power, but little likely to augment the trophies 
 of French intellect. 
 
 The pubhc responsibilities, and perhaps the moral influ- 
 ence, of the French Academy, were never greater than now. 
 That influence is not less real, because it is often unseen. 
 To brilliant services, and to great memories, the Academy 
 adds a certain prestige of durable vitality which, in France, 
 The Aca- }ias becomc rare. When Richelieu founded it, there stood 
 
 demy's dura- . i • i i • ... 
 
 biiity, and side by side with the new society, many institutions that 
 unity. seemed to have quite as good a chance of long life. But 
 
 most of these have been either suppressed or revolutionized. 
 The names may sometimes be the same, but the institutions 
 which bear them are very difierent. The Academy itself 
 has undergone several changes of mere form and routine, 
 but it is substantially unchanged. Here, long before 
 1789, men of the "privileged orders" had to become the 
 supplicants, before they could become the associates, of other 
 men whose claims to distinction were quite independent 
 of birth or of wealth. It is, indeed, alike the honour, the 
 safety, and the great advantage, of the Academy — as it has 
 also been of other institutions, and of other countries, — 
 that among its men of genius there have always existed men 
 of high birth, as well as men of lowliest origin. But with 
 their Academical seats, the accidents of fortune had, essen- 
 tially, nothing to do. And here, in 1864, — if Parisian 
 gossip may be accredited,— the Emperor Napoleon III, 
 
CANDIDATURE OF NAPOLEON III. 121 
 
 unsatisfied with that official protectorship of the Academy '^^° "''"'" 
 
 ■.,,-- ■*■ A •/ ed Candida- 
 
 which adheres to the throne, as well as undeterred by the '"'<^ "' "'« 
 cutting sarcasms which Mr. Kinglake has recently levelled poZuTil"" 
 at him as " a sallow-faced man of letters," is a candidate 
 for admission, by the votes of an absolute majority of his 
 future colleagues. 
 
 Even at the election of April, 1863, occasioned by the 
 death of Duke Pasquier, some pressure (it is asserted) was, 
 in the first instance, put upon the Academy in order to 
 induce it to delay its choice, in order to introduce, with 
 befitting pomp, the imperial candidate. It seems to have 
 been thought that the long-promised Fie de Cesar, might 
 possibly have been forthcoming in time to form a firmer 
 pedestal for literary honours than the Idees NapoUoniennes, 
 the treatise Da Passe et de I'Avenir de VArtillerie, and the 
 Beveries Politiques. The formal candidature which on 
 that occasion was withheld, has since, it is said, been 
 authoritatively announced. 
 
 The reception of Napoleon III, as " one of the Forty of 
 the French Academy," come when it may, will be a sight 
 worth seeing. It will be as strange an event, in its way, 
 as was the imperial visit to London in 1852, or the im- 
 perial entry into Milan in 1859. It will now, indeed, lack 
 one circumstance which is said to have had its special 
 charm in the Emperor's own imagination, and which could 
 not but have been impressive to all spectators. Pasquier 
 had been in office, under the old Monarchy, prior to the 
 Convention of the Notables. He had served Napoleon, in career of 
 
 1 . /Y» /» 1 11 1 PaBquier, one 
 
 several prominent offices, from the Consulate down to the of the latdy 
 close of the first Empire. Under the restored Bourbons, he demidLa."" 
 had taken a large part both in making ministries and in over- 
 turning them. He had been the most intimate and most 
 trusted counsellor of Louis Phihppe. He had presided 
 
123 CANDIDATUEE OF NAPOLEON III. 
 
 over that long series of political trials, which fills a place 
 so unfortunately conspicuous in the annals of the citizen- 
 kingship, and includes the trial of a famous " con- 
 spirator," once captured at Boulogne. In a word, the 
 public career which had begun before the Revolution of 
 1789, had continued up to the eve of the Revolution of 
 1848. 
 
 It could not but have been a memorable thing to have 
 seen Pasquier's chair taken by the heir of Napoleon, — the 
 President of the Republic, — the successful plotter of 
 December, 1851 — the consummately able ruler of Prance, 
 — the half-unwilling liberator of Italy. By Academic usage, 
 the new member must epitomize the qualities and the 
 career of his predecessor ; the president of the day, those of 
 the new member. Completeness or impartiality in such an 
 epitome is, of course, as little desired as it is expected. But 
 there is no want of Academic precedent for plain speaking, 
 or hard hitting. To have heard — with whatever inevitable 
 reticences and suppressions — the salient features of two 
 such careers, and of two such characters, passed in elaborate 
 review, the one series by Napoleon III, and the other series 
 by a Montalembert or a Guizot, would have been to see 
 history unrolled before one's eyes as in a living panorama. 
 
 This is now a bygone possibility. If, however, the im- 
 perial candidate should enter the Academy as the successor 
 of Alfred de Vigny, the piquancy of the scene to those of 
 the beholders who may chance to remember that remarkable 
 reception of De Vigny himself, in 1846, which has been 
 already described, will be scarcely less. Whatever its date 
 or circumstances, the Emperor's reception into the Prench 
 Institute — if that be indeed among the " surprises " which 
 the Puture has yet in store for us — cannot fail to be a sight 
 worth beholding. 
 
BISHOP DUPANLOUP'S AVEBTISSEMENT. 123 
 
 The imperial candidature is, by no means, the only cir- 
 cumstance which has given adventitious interest to the 
 recent Academical Elections in Paris. Bishop Dupanloup, '■''"= ''™™' 
 
 111 pamphlet of 
 
 of Orleans, has thought the occasion a fitting one for a B's'"'? 
 zealous attempt to make theological orthodoxy one of the 
 conditions precedent, which must henceforth be united in 
 the persons of all candidates for the " blue riband " of 
 French Literature. 
 
 There is no denying the duty, or the necessity, of some 
 regard to the moral and social qualities, as well as to the 
 literary powers, of aspirants to that eminent distinction. 
 But morality, and a lofty aim in life, is one thing, and 
 orthodoxy, after the pattern of the Roman Church, quite 
 another thing. There never was a time when, — in France, 
 as elsewhere, — the need for the inculcation, and the enforce- 
 ment by example, of high aims in literature, has been more 
 obvious. The rapid growth of the merely industrial and 
 material interests of society, and the wide diffusion of the 
 bare rudiments of learning, have combined to supply a 
 new gloss to the text of the old complaints. A paradoxical, 
 inflated, and enervating, literature more than keeps its 
 place beside the honest, pure, and healthful, litera- 
 ture. It takes advantage of the multiplied means and 
 agencies of modern mechanism, and modern publicity, and 
 needs to be encountered by every legitimate influence of an 
 opposite tendency. The very language which the illustrious 
 writers of three centuries have ennobled, is daily corrupted 
 and trampled into the mii-e. Here lies the true field for 
 Academic exertion and example. It is idle to attempt to 
 transport the Confessional into the Institute of France. 
 
 Among the Candidates of April, 1863, was M. Littre, a 
 contributor of many brilliant articles to the Beviie des deux 
 Mondes, — one of the continuators of the Histoire Litteraire 
 
124 THE CANDIDATES OF 1863. 
 
 Th= lite, jg France, of the Benedictines,— one of the Editors of the 
 M^Lit^'" Journal des Savans, — and the author of an elaborate Dic- 
 tionnaire Mymologique de la Langue Frangaise, now, after 
 a labour of some eighteen or twenty years, in course of 
 publication. But M. Littre is also a zealous follower of 
 Auguste Comte, — an untiring advocate and expounder of 
 the so-caUed " Philosophy of Positivism." 
 
 That "Philosophy" is sufficiently, and very obviously, open 
 to criticism. But, at this date, it ought to be quite needless 
 to argue, with a body like the French Academy, in favour 
 of freedom of opinion. Life is too short for the constant 
 iteration of rudimentary propositions. It might, surely, 
 now be taken as settled that Truth as little needs the aid 
 of social stigma or of social penalty, inflicted on its op- 
 ponents, as it needs the aid of prize or bounty-money, 
 conferred upon its friends. 
 Bishop Du- -jUje '< Avertissement aux Feres de Famille " is believed 
 
 pauloup's Ob- ... _ . . « 
 
 jectiona xa to havc had some share in bringing about the rejection of 
 M. Littre, and the election of M. de Came, his opponent. 
 Of their relative claims, as authors, little need be said. 
 The personal question is of small moment, in comparison 
 with the question of principle. All that M. Dupanloup 
 has to urge on that point, he seems to sum up in these 
 words : — " It is puerile to suppose that I have any such 
 power \i. e., the power of exclusion from the Academy], 
 but, if I had it, I would unhesitatingly use it, simply be- 
 cause I esteem the Academy very highly ; because I look 
 upon it as a raised platform, whence doctrines descend with 
 loud resonance ; because I cannot see with satisfaction the 
 proselytism of error obtain consecration, and lift itself to 
 such an eminence."* If teaching like this had governed 
 the Academy in past days, it would have been shorn of its 
 
 * Avertissement, &c., p. 11. 
 
THE CANDIDATES OF 1863. 135 
 
 honours. Tt has become a power in France by acting on 
 a quite different doctrine. Its past history has made it an 
 object of reverence to the lovers of literature in other 
 countries, just because that history records repeated 
 examples of its efforts on the side of free thought, — free 
 speech, — ^ree examination ; and of its successful vindication 
 of the vital doctrine that the real interests of Truth, and the 
 vi^ise policy of a nation, alike demand that assertion shall 
 be met by inquiry, and argument by argument. 
 
 In April, 1863, all the candidates possessed some literary The com- 
 
 i~ ' * X J paratlve 
 
 reputation, although in very different proportions. The claims of the 
 
 Ki 1-ij TITTUP -, %,T -, ^ f Candidates of 
 
 successtul candidates, M. Dutaure and M. de Came, are \m. 
 eminent publicists. With both of them, literature is 
 simply the handmaid of politics. Scarcely any thing has pro- 
 ceeded from the pen of either which has not, in some degree, 
 a political aim. The imperial candidature stands apart. It 
 is, at all events, a significant and a timely tribute to the 
 potencies of thought. It is in curious contrast with the 
 imperial disdain of "ideologists" and " phrasemakers," so 
 often asserted — more asserted, perhaps, than felt — during 
 the first Empire. It may, possibly, be another indication 
 that a policy in flagrant conflict with the best intellects of 
 the day is already seen to be a policy which, sooner or 
 later, must suffer extensive change. But in such candidates 
 as M. Littre (candidates whose claims rest on books) the 
 keenest opponent, if an honest one, can hardly fail to 
 recognize pretensions v^hich are in obvious harmony with 
 the thing aspired to. Such men present examples of bril- 
 liant and varied literary attainments, in union with eminent 
 services rendered to that particular branch of learning 
 which the Academy is, by its very charter, especially 
 bound to promote, and with a lifelong devotion to Litera- 
 
126 THE CANDIDATES OF 1863. 
 
 ture, for the love of it. I humbly ventufe to think that 
 whenever it honours such a career the French Academy 
 honours itself. It is, in such casesj at once acting in 
 accordance with its own best precedents, and is practically 
 rebuking a fanaticism, from the dominance of which no 
 interests would suffer more than the interests of good 
 letters. And the interests of Literature in Prance are the 
 interests of remote readers, all over the world. 
 
it-t- CLl-fr-ii "(■■ ■ 
 
 11. 
 
 THE EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OE RING ALFRED. 
 WITH SOME ACCOUNT OE AN UNPRINTED 
 CHRONICLE AND CHARTULARY COMPILED, 
 AT WINCHESTER, IN THE FOURTEENTH 
 CENTURY. 
 
Behoid a pupil of the Monkish gown, 
 
 The pious Alfeed, King to Justice dear ! 
 
 Lord of the harp and liherating spear ; 
 
 Mirror of Princes ! Indigent Renown 
 
 Might range the starry ether for a crown 
 
 Equal to his deserts, who, like the year. 
 
 Pours forth his hounty ; like the day doth cheer, 
 
 And awes like night with mercy-tempered frown. 
 
 Ease from this nohle miser of his time 
 
 No moment steals ; pain narrows not his cares. 
 
 Though small his kingdom as a spark or gem. 
 
 Of Alebed boasts remote Jerusalem, 
 
 And Christian India, through her widespread clime. 
 
 In sacred converse gifts with Alfred shares. 
 
 Ecclesiastical Sotmets, I, xxvi. 
 
TSE BOOK OF HYDE ABBEY. i29 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CONCERNING TEE BOOK OF EYBE ABBBT. 
 
 1. Several of the Roman Catholic Historians of our 
 early Church, — and more especially such as wrote either 
 towards the close of the sixteenth century, or in the earlier 
 part of the seventeenth,— quote a MS. Winchester Chroni- 
 cle, the existence or the fate of which have since been 
 unknown. Some of the passages seem to point to similarity 
 of source, as well as of subject, with the well-known Chro- 
 nicle of Thomas Rudborne,* printed by Wharton, in 1691, 
 in the first volume of the Anglia Sacra. But it is seen, on 
 glancing at the latter, that the quotations are not from 
 Rudborne, and that the discrepancies between the printed 
 Chronicler and the manuscript Chronicler are much greater 
 than the resemblances. 
 
 2. The titles under which this MS. Chronicle are quoted Quotations 
 differ. Michael Alford, in his elaborate Annates Ecclesia bJ^,™ ^^^^ 
 AnalicancB, cites it repeatedly as Annates Cmnobii Win- '" R»ra"nist 
 toniensis {e. ff. Tom. HI, pp. 161, 164, 165, 204, 206, 
 
 208, 209, &c.). Nicholas Harpsfeld, the author of the 
 
 * " Ecclesiie Wintoniensis Historiam fuse prae aliis digessit Thomas 
 Rudtum, Ecclesiae ejusdem Monachus. Novi Monasterii "Wintoniensis, 
 quod ab Hid a, nomen accepit, faisse monacliiim. Baleus male tradidit. 
 Ecclesise enim Oattedralis S. Switheni coenobitam faisse, turn ex plurimis 
 BiHorwB Majoris locis, turn ex Prologo ad Historiam Minoeem liquet- 
 Balei errorem Pitsius et Vossiua transoripserunt," &c. Whaeton, ut 
 supra, I, 26. 
 
 9 
 
130 JOHN STOWS EPITOME. 
 
 Historia Anglicana Ecclesiastica printed at Douay, in 1622, 
 quotes it, sometimes [e.ff. p. 159), as Annales Novi Coenobii 
 Wintoniensis, sometimes merely as Annales Wintonienses. 
 Hugh De Cressy, again, in his Church History of Brittany 
 (p. 776), having to speak of a certain oration made by the 
 Abbot Grimbald — the friend of King Alfred — at a Council 
 convened in London, in the year 886, writes thus : — " If 
 the reader have the curiosity to peruse the whole Oration, 
 he must have recourse to the fore-mentioned Annals of 
 Winchester, or the book called Liber de Hida, where it 
 hath been preserved in a gratefull memory of St. Grimbald." 
 I doubt, however, if Cressy had ever seen the MS. he cites. 
 Much of his book is a translation and compilation from 
 Alford. It was completed in France. 'And there is reason 
 to think that his knowledge of The Book of Hyde, as of 
 other English MSS. quoted in his History, was at second 
 hand. Both Alford and Harpsfeld had passed long years 
 of study in English libraries and in English country 
 houses. 
 johnstow'B 3. But the traditional knowledge of this Hyde MS. did 
 tom'r'of the not rest simply on its quotation by our earlier Church 
 Bonkofnyde. Histonaus. Good and diligent old John Stow, — among 
 his other and multitudinous labours,— came across it, in 
 August, 1572, and transcribed rather more than a third of 
 its contents. One is sorry to observe, on looking at this 
 unfinished transcript — now preserved, as No. 717 of the 
 Lansdowne MSS., in the British Museum — that to 
 him paper must have been even scantier than leisure. 
 Apparently to save paper, Stow has made his copy in such 
 a cramped, abridged, and mutilated fashion, that in many 
 places it is unintelligible. And, to increase the difficulty 
 arising from this source, when the transcript came to be 
 bound, its leaves were confusedly intermingled by the binder. 
 
THE MACCLESFIELD MS. AT SHIRBUEN. 131 
 
 From both causes, together, the learned and able editor of 
 The Church Historians of England, Mr. Joseph Stevenson, 
 when he included an English translation of Stow's frag- 
 ment in the fourth volume of that useful publication, fell 
 into several grave mistakes, — vphich no amount of Editorial 
 acuteness, indeed, could have averted, in the absence of all 
 access to the original MS. 
 
 4. That long-lost text I had the satisfaction of dis- Discovery 
 
 of the Mac- 
 
 covering, in 1861, in the Library of the Earl of Maccles- ciesfleia ms. 
 field, at Shirburn Castle in Oxfordshire. It is on vellum ; cLtie' 
 of large folio size — 17f inches by 11 1 inches— written 
 in double columns ; has, on some pages, richly illuminated 
 borders and initial letters ; and extends to 78 pages, or 
 156 columns, with 58 lines to each column. It breaks off 
 in the middle of a sentence, and indeed of a word, but, 
 from the circumstance that on the later pages the initials 
 and other embellishments are sometimes only sketched in 
 outline, and sometimes not even sketched, but only indi- 
 cated by the pen, it seems probable that the MS. was never 
 completed by the scribe. It is, perhaps, not so much — in 
 the usual sense — imperfect, as unfinished. The Bind- 
 ing is only of the earlier part of the 1 8th century. Other 
 particulars of the age and character of the book will be 
 best exhibited by fac-similes. The historians who have 
 quoted it, and the antiquary who transcribed its earlier 
 chapters, are alike silent as to its local habitation, when 
 seen by them respectively. The MS. itself contains nothing 
 to indicate through whose hands, or into what libraries, 
 it may have passed. 
 
 5. Those who care to learn anything of the history of 
 the Library in which the book was discovered, will find a 
 statement of what is known on that point in a subse- 
 quent portion of the present volume. Here, it may suffice 
 
133 THE MACCLESFIELD MS. AT SHIEBUBN. 
 
 to mention (first) that the Shirburn library combines 
 the books of two English Collectors of the end of the 
 seventeenth century and beginning of the eighteenth, — 
 namely, Thomas Parker, first Earl of Macclesfield, and 
 Lord Chancellor; and William Jones, F.R.S., the friend 
 and occasionally the amanuensis of Newton ; — and also a 
 large selection of the choicest books of that ardent lover of 
 fine books the French publicist Nicholas Joseph Foucault, 
 whose life has just been narrated by M. Baudry ; and 
 (secondly) that the growth of the Shirburn Library, by 
 successive bequests to former Earls of Macclesfield, had 
 rendered some of its best books inaccessible until the 
 present Earl directed the writer to re-arrange it, in 
 1860-61. 
 
 6. Stow, although he says not a word about the place 
 
 or ownership of the MS. which he partially transcribed in 
 
 1572, has twice given a sort of vague description of the 
 
 stow's de- book. In the sixth volume of that portion of his MS. 
 
 the appear- " Hlstorical Collcctious " which is preserved among the 
 
 teTcrthe" Haeleian MSS. (No. 542, p. 123) he writes thus :— 
 
 BookofHjde. " Afinales Monasterii de Hyde is an auncyent booke 
 
 conteynynge the^rygynalls and encrease of that howse 
 
 w* the notable thyngs that hapned there. It sheweth the 
 
 author that wrote it lyved about the yere . . ," but the date 
 
 is a blank. 
 
 Again, at the end of the fragmentary transcript already 
 described (Lansdowne MS., No. 717) he writes: — 
 
 " Memorandum, that there be in the booke of Hide, in 
 greate and large parchment writen, dyvars of thes things 
 before writen, and many other testaments of certeyn Saxon 
 kings, which be writen in bastard Saxon, and translated 
 into latyn and englysshe." 
 
CETAEA.CTEE 0¥ THE BOOK OF RYBE. 133 
 
 7. The most eminent of living Englisli Wiiic^w&xies— facile 
 prhiceps as respects the field of labour we are now con- 
 cerned with— Mr. T. Duffus Hardy, Assistant-Keeper of 
 the Pubhc Records, after examining Stow's fragment, 
 wrote thus : " The Book of Hyde ... is a reconstruction 
 of earlier materials, .... compiled within that monastery, 
 and thus contains details — especially respecting Alfred and 
 his contemporaries, — not elsewhere to be found. ... It 
 contains citations of authors whose works have perished, 
 and who are known only by this manuscript, and by the 
 Chronicle of Thomas Rudborne which has much in common 
 
 with the Liber de Hida No MS. copy is known 
 
 but that of John Stow." 
 
 8. Ilere, it may not be inappropriate to add that the 
 words "which has much in common with the Liber de 
 Hida','' apply — as they were in fact applied — rather to 
 the Lansdowne fragment, than to the Macclesfield MS. 
 In like manner, a remark made by Mr. Stevenson, that 
 " the Book of Hyde in many respects corresponds closely 
 with Asser's Life of King Alfred " must be taken in a very 
 limited sense. What the precise extent of this resemblance 
 is will be seen presently. Meanwhile, it suffices to record 
 the fact that, whatever the relevancy of Mr. Stevenson's 
 remark as regards Chapters XII and XIlI of the Book of 
 Hyde, as it appears in the Macclesfield MS., that remark has 
 no bearing, whatever, on the other twenty-one chapters. 
 
 Account (if 
 tlie contents 
 
 9. The Macclesfield MS. has no title. It commences, at 
 the top of the recto of the first leaf with the words : — of'\hrBook 
 
 of Hyde, 
 
 " Regnum quod tnodo Anglia noiatur oil [nonii- 
 natur, olim] dicehatur Jlbyon. et hoc modo. XJt enlm 
 repperi in quadam cronica velustissima qd [quod] 
 
134 CHARACTEE OP THi: BOOK OF HTBi:. 
 
 fuit in regno sr/rie qidani [quidam] rex nobilis note 
 [nomine] Dioclitianus," etc. 
 
 10. Beginning with the old story of Labana, the first 
 chapter closes with a summary of English history until the 
 Norman conquest. Chapters II to VIII, inclusive, describe 
 individually each of the kingdoms which composed the 
 Saxon Heptarchy. The ninth chapter is devoted to those 
 Saxon kings who relinquished their earthly empire, and 
 gave themselves to the especial service of Heaven, by embrac- 
 ing a monastic life. The tenth chapter answers the question. 
 Whence was the origin of those Saxons who reigned in 
 England ? The eleventh is entitled " De Monarchis," {i.e. 
 " Of the 6t»/e monarchs.") Thenceforward, each chapter is 
 the Chronicle of a single reign — " Cronica Regis Adulphi" 
 — "Cronica Regis Jlfredi ■" — and so on. But, after the 
 thirteenth, — the Chronicle of Alfred — although the division 
 into chapters virtually continues, both the designation and 
 the number are discontinued. The Macclesfield MS. 
 breaks off abruptly in the middle of the " Cronica Regis 
 Cnutonis" [C. XXIII] in the middle of a sentence, and in 
 the middle of the ancient name of the see of Hexham> 
 thus : — 
 
 " Cnutone regnU [regnurn], anglor [anglorum] 
 tenente, alfricus wgntoniensis ecclie [ecclesise] preposi- 
 tus assumitur in presulatu [praesulatum] Eboracensis 
 eeclice [ecclesise]. Hiis primu [prinium] qt{eritur 
 cbtra [contra] dunelmiu [dunelmium] epm [episcopum] 
 Edmundu [EdmundumJ quo jure ipe [ipse] hangus." 
 
 The illuminated initials and other decorations cease to 
 be entirely and uniformly finished, with the recto of the 
 seventeenth leaf. Some exceptions occur, here and there. 
 
The Chiu-- 
 tulary or Do- 
 
 Hyde." 
 
 CHARACTER OP THJE BOOK OF HTBB. 135 
 
 but speaking generally, the ornamentation of the MS., from 
 the verso of leaf 17, onwards, is in various stages of 
 incompleteness. 
 
 11. Each chapter or "chronicle," from the thirteenth to 
 the twenty-first inclusive, but with the exception of that 
 devoted to the short life of St. Edward, King and Martyr, 
 is followed by an appendix of Charters, Wills and other 
 documents, relating, more or less directly, to grants of <:™™''"-y 
 
 ^ J ' G Appendices of 
 
 land and other benefactions conferred on the Monastery of "TheBookot 
 IJyde. The wihs ; the descriptions of boundaries ; some- 
 times — as in the instance of the very cmious narrative of 
 the " Crimes and forfeitures of Wulfbold," and of the 
 severe courses taken with him by King Ethelred and his 
 magnates at a grand Council convened in London, — a 
 portion of the proem prefixed to the grants, are given in 
 Anglo-Saxon (usually in a very corrupt and uncouth 
 orthography) and in middle English, as well as in Latin. 
 In most cases, such portions of the documents exhibited as 
 are given in the three languages, are given with equal ful- 
 ness in each language. In the case of the Narrative 
 relating to the unhappy Wulfbold, the Latin is only an 
 abridgement. Of these documents, however, a fuller 
 account will be given in a subsequent chapter. And one 
 of them — previously known to antiquaries — will be quoted 
 at length, for the sake of its curious English version. 
 
136 EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 RELATIVE STATUS OF THE EARLIER HISTORIANS OF ALFRED. 
 
 HARMONY OF THE CHIEF EVENTS IN HIS LIFE, AS 
 
 NARRATED (1) IN THE SAXON CERONICLE; (2) IN THE 
 ANNALS ASCRIBED TO ASSER, OF ST. DAVId's ; (3) IN THE 
 BOOK OF HTDE ABBEY. 
 
 1. On a multitude of questions connected with the age, 
 the authorship, the genuineness, the variations of style, and 
 the preferable text, of the Saxon Chronicle, antiquaries 
 have been as much divided in opinion, as were those two 
 knights who, meeting at a cross-road, fought about the 
 
 Character real colour of the famous shield. But on the one point. 
 Chronicle, that ixi thc Saxou Chronicle we have substantially- the 
 earliest historical account of Alfred, competent opinions 
 may be regarded as agreed. It seems, also, to be tolerably 
 well settled that, whoever may have been the writer of those 
 passages which relate to the closing years of Alfred's life, 
 tlie writer was contemporary with our venerated king. 
 
 2. Scarcely less conflicting, than the debates about the 
 Saxon Chronicle, have been the opinions of our antiquaries 
 as to the sources, the authenticity, and the historical value, 
 of the Annals of the Exploits of Alfred, ascribed to Asser. 
 The latest — and certainly not the least able — of the modern 
 
 Character biographcTS of Alfred, Dr. Pauli, inclines to accept Asser 
 as substantially genuine. His learned and accomplished 
 translator, Mr. Thomas Wright, on the other hand, is quite 
 
 of the work 
 Dflcribed to 
 Asser. 
 
EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 137 
 
 certain that the Life of Alfred attributed to Asser, " cannot 
 have been written before the end of the tenth century, and 
 was probably the work of some monk who, with no great 
 knowledge of history, collected .... the traditions relating 
 to Alfred which were then current ; joined with them the 
 legends in the Life of St. iNCot, and the historical entries 
 in the Saxon Chronicle ; and to give greater " [appearance 
 of?] "authenticity to his work, published it under the 
 name of Asser." The weighty fact that Lingard, Hardy, 
 Kemble, Thorpe, Lappenberg, and Stevenson, — as well as 
 Pauli, — take the other side, very happily delivers the 
 present writer from all temptation to the presumption of 
 offering any opinion, of his own, on so vexed a question. 
 
 3. Asser ceased to narrate the exploits of Alfred at or 
 about the year 890. Alfred lived until 901. Asser is 
 found attesting charters in 904.* According to the ^/iH«/e* 
 CamlricB, he survived until 90S; according to the Saxon 
 Chronicle, until 910. Why did he so abruptly break off 
 in his self-imposed and most honourable task ? The ques- 
 tion, at present, and so far as any endeavours of mine at 
 its solution are concerned, admits of no reply. There are 
 more difficulties in the way of the hypothesis that we have 
 lost some portion of what Asser left, than there are in the 
 way of the other and — under this point of view — the more 
 awkward hypothesis, that what w^e actually have includes 
 interpolations, and additions, which Asser never saw. 
 
 4. No ancient MS. of Asser is now known to exist. All 
 that can be usefully stated as to his sources, and as to his 
 text, has been briefly but sufficiently summed up by Mr. 
 Stevenson, in his able " Preface to Asser " in the fom-th 
 part of "The Church Historians of England" (1854), to 
 which I refer the reader. 
 
 * Kemble, Codex, Diplomaticus JiJvi Saxonici, No. 437, ic. 
 
138 EAELY EIOGRAPHEES OF ALPEED. 
 
 other eariy 5^ Ethclwercl, " the Patrician," wrote towards the close 
 
 Biographers ' 
 
 ofAUied. of the tenth century. His work is in substance a mere 
 compilation from the Saxon Chronicle, but from a copy, or, 
 so to speak, a re-cast, of that Chronicle, which has perished. 
 Ethelwerd, therefore, though a copyist, is, in a sense, an 
 authority. Florence of Worcester seems to be a copyist, 
 and nothing more. His respect for the Saxon Chronicle, 
 and for Asser, is so great that he copies them textually, 
 whilst his modesty, also, is so great that he lays no claiiu 
 to their acquaintance. He is also much indebted to that 
 general chronicler, Marianus Scotus, whose labours have so 
 often been laid under contribution. Henry, Archdeacon 
 of Huntingdon, who compiled his Chronicle at the begin- 
 ning of the twelfth century, abridges the earlier historians, 
 and occasionally adds information obtained elsewhere. The 
 Chronicle which goes by the name of " John of Walling- 
 ford " largely follows Huntingdon ; incorporates with its 
 extracts numerous legends of saints ; and seems to have 
 been compiled about the middle of the twelfth century. 
 But of its real authorship, the most competent inquirers 
 are quite uncertain. Simeon, of Durham, in addition to 
 the contributions he has levied on his earlier fellow-chroni- 
 clerSj has much matter of his own. He was the contem- 
 porary both of Florence and of Henry Huntingdon. 
 Finally, another contemporary of those historians, WUham 
 of Malmesbury, — the author of the universally-known 
 works Be gestis Begum Anglice, and De gestis Pontificum — 
 has contributed an item or two to oui- knowledge of 
 Alfred and of his times, although "England's darlino-" 
 had probably rested from his labours some hundred and 
 seventy years, when Malmesbury was born. 
 
 6. The Liber de Hida — so far as concerns the parentage, 
 the life, and the reign of Alfred — confines its express 
 
EAELY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 139 
 
 quotations from early chroniclers — and those quotations are 
 of little importance — to Florence of Worcester, and to 
 Ilenry of Huntingdon. But it quotes largely the Policroni- 
 con of Ralph of Chester ; the lost treatise of Vigilantius, De 
 Basilica Petri; the lost Epistola ad Monachos Ni(/ros in 
 Anglia of Bonagratia de Villa Dei ; and the lost books of 
 Gerard of Cornwall, De gestis Regum Westsaxonnm. 
 
 7. Tor the purposes of this little Essay it will suffice to 
 compare, — with the utmost possible brevity, — the principal 
 events in Alfred's life which it narrates, with the correspond- 
 ing statements in the Saxon Chronicle, and in Asser. And 
 the columnar form will best exhibit both the agreement 
 and the diversities existing between the old authorities 
 and the new one. I translate the Latin of the Book of 
 Hyde, as it stands in the Macclesfield MS., and quote the 
 other writers, in the existing versions, nearly as I find 
 them : — 
 
140 
 
 EARLY BTOGEAPHEBS OF ALFEED. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 849-855. 
 
 ASSEB. 
 
 [849.] lu the year 849 was born Alfred 
 
 in the royal vill which is called Wanating, in 
 Berrocscire. 
 
 [853.] ^thelwulf sent his son JElfred to 
 Rome , with an honourable escort, both of nobles 
 
 and commoners Pope Leo 
 
 anointed for king the aforesaid child .Alfred, 
 and confirmed him, receiving him as his son of 
 adoption. 
 
 [855.] la the same year, he went to Rome 
 with much honour, taking with him his son 
 
 Alfred, because he loved him more than 
 
 his other sons, and remained there a whole year. 
 
 " In this place I think it right to relate as 
 much as has come to my knowledge, about the 
 
 character of my revered Lord Alfred, 
 
 during the years in which he was an infant and 
 
 a boy As he advanced through 
 
 the years of infancy and youth, his form appeared 
 more comely than that of his brothers ; in look, 
 in speech, and in manners he was more graceful 
 than they. His noble nature implanted in him, 
 from his cradle, a love of wisdom above aU 
 things; but, with shame be it spoken, by the 
 unworthy neglect of his parents and nurses, he 
 remained illiterate even till he was twelve years 
 old or more ; but he listened with serious atten- 
 tion to the Saxon poems, which he often heard 
 recited, and easily retained them in his tenacious 
 memory. He was a zealous practiser of hunting, 
 in all its branches, and pursued that art with 
 great assiduity and success | 
 
EARLY BIOGRAPHEES OF ALFRED. 
 
 141 
 
 A.D. 
 
 B53-855. 
 
 SAXON CHRONICLE. 
 
 \_The Saxon Chronicle notices no 
 event in the Life of Alfred prior to 
 hisfrst visit to Some, usually ascribed 
 to the year 853.] 
 
 [853.] K. ^thelwulf sent his 
 son Alfred to Rome. Leo was then 
 Pope of Rome, and he consecrated 
 him king, and took him for his son 
 at confirmation. 
 
 [855.] ^thelwulf went to Rome 
 in great state, and dwelt there twelve 
 months. 
 
 A.D. BOOK OF HTDE ABBEY. 
 
 853-855. (jiACCLEsriELD ms.) 
 
 [853.] Alfred, because he was 
 more beloved by his father than the 
 rest of his sons, was sent to Pope 
 Leo V [sic for IV]. The Pope, at 
 his father's request, received him 
 with great honour and caused him 
 to be anointed King of the English. 
 
 [855.] The most religious king 
 Athulf, not long afterwards,— 
 namely in the year following that in 
 which his anointed son Alfred had 
 returned to England from Rome, — 
 
 again took him thither, and 
 
 there remained with him a whole 
 year 
 
 " He also sent his most Christian 
 son (beloved with pre-eminent afiec- 
 tion,* but already assailed by an 
 incurable disease) to be healed by 
 St. Modewenna, who was then living 
 in Ireland 
 
 King Etheldred was dearly beloved, 
 above the rest of his brothers, by 
 the most illustrious prince Alfred, 
 on account of his eminent virtues 
 which daily increased. And hence, 
 Alfred, the skilful leader and gene- 
 ral in arms, often opposed himself 
 to the Danes, at the walls of 
 
 * " Regalem indolem plus ceteris dilectam." 
 
143 
 
 EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OP ALFRED. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 855. 
 
 " On a certain day his mother was showing 
 him and his brothers a Saxon hook of poetry, 
 which she held in her hand, and said, ' Which- 
 ever of you shall soonest learn this volume, shall 
 have it for his own.' Stimulated by these words, 
 or rather by a divine inspiration, and allured by 
 the beautifully illuminated letter at the begin- 
 ning of the volume, he answered, before any of 
 his brothers — his seniors in age, but not in 
 grace — ' "Will you reaUy give that book to him 
 who can first learn to understand it, and to re- 
 peat it to you ? ' His mother smiled, and con- 
 firmed her promise In due time, he had 
 
 learnt and he recited, his task. After this, he 
 learned ' the daily course,' that is, the celebra- 
 tion of the Hours, and afterwards certain Psalms 
 
 and Prayers But, sad to say ! he 
 
 was unable to gratify his most ardent wish to 
 
 acquire the liberal arts, for lack of 
 
 teachers When he was more advanced 
 
 in life, he was harassed by so many diseases, un- 
 known to all the physicians of this island, as 
 weU as by the internal and external anxieties of 
 sovereignty, and by the continual invasions of 
 the Pagans, and; had his teachers and writers, 
 also, so much disturbed, that there was no time 
 for reading. But yet among the impediments 
 of such a life, from infancy up to this present 
 time, and, as I believe, even until his death, he 
 continued to feel the same insatiable desire of 
 knowledge, and still aspires after it." 
 
EAELY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 143 
 
 SAXON CHEONIOLE. 
 
 a.d. book of hyde abbey 
 
 855. (maoolespield ms.) 
 
 Wilton,* in defence of that leader of 
 a holy life, King Etheldred 
 
 Thus, King Alfred, most re- 
 nowned among a thousand, came of 
 the nation of the Britons, and thus 
 of the noble blood of the Trojans. 
 After be had passed his twelfth year 
 he committed to memory, like a 
 teachable child, the Saxon poems. 
 In hunting, he was eminent. In 
 architecture, supreme. The Psalms 
 and Prayers he collected into one 
 volume which he called 'Manual,' 
 that is a Handbook, and carried al- 
 ways about him. In grammar he 
 was less skilled, because at that 
 time, there was not any teacher of 
 grammar in the kingdom. For this 
 reason, and by the advice of Abbot 
 Neot, whom he frequently visited, 
 he established public schools of 
 various arts, which in many points 
 brought advantage to the city [?]. 
 For Alfred, the bountiful Almsgiver, 
 the most devout worshipper at 
 mass, the most studious searcher- 
 out of unknown arts, called to his 
 Court the most holy confessor 
 Grimbald from France, — a monk 
 skilled in literature and in music, — 
 together with the priest and monk 
 John, a man of sharpest intellect 
 and universal learning, and with the 
 venerable Asser, a man profoundly 
 versed in literature. He also in- 
 
 • Wyltoniensium muru contra danos se opposuit, &c." 
 
144 
 
 EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 868-871. 
 
 ASSBB. 
 
 [868.] Alfred, at tbat time occupying a sub- 
 ordinate station, asked and obtained in marriage 
 a noble Mercian lady, daughter of Ethelred, 
 surnamed Mucil (" The Big"), Earl of the Graini. 
 
 Ethered and Alfred 
 
 went -with an immense army, and entering 
 Mercia came to Nottingham, eager for battle 
 
 but the Mercians and the Pagans 
 
 made peace, and the brothers returned home. 
 
 [871. J . . .Ethered and Alfred united theirforees, 
 and approached Beading with their combined 
 armies. When they had come to the gate of the 
 citadel they cut down all the Pagans whom they 
 found on the outside 
 
 At Ashdown ['Aescesdun'] 
 
 the Christians, like the Pagans, divided their 
 forces into two bodies Alfred march- 
 ed up to the battlefield promptly with his 
 followers, as .we have heard it related by 
 truthteUing eye-witnesses. His brother, King 
 Ethered, remained at prayer in his tent, hearing 
 mass, distinctly affirming that he would not de- 
 part alive before the priest had finished the ser- 
 vice Alfred, when he could 
 
 no longer sustain the assault of the foe, unless 
 
 he either retreated or rushed on, 
 
 without waiting for his brother, relying 
 
 on God's assistance, drew up his men in a 
 
 dense body and advanced At 
 
 length, when both armies had struggled with 
 
THE EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 145 
 
 A..D. 
 
 868-871. 
 
 SAXON CHEONICLB. 
 
 [868.] ottered and iElfred ... 
 went with the "West-Saxon power 
 into Mercia, as far as Nottingham 
 but there was no great battle, 
 and the Mercians made peace. 
 
 [871.] About three days 
 
 after, King ^thered and Alfred 
 his brother led a large force to 
 Reading, ... and there was great 
 slaughter made on either hand 
 
 And after 
 
 this, King ^thered, and Alfred his 
 brother, fought against the whole 
 
 [Pagan] Army at ^scesdun 
 
 Alfred fought against the 
 
 division under the earls 
 
 Fourteen days after, 
 
 ^thered and Alfred fought ... at 
 Basing, but the Danes conquered. 
 
 And two months 
 
 after, they fought against the army 
 at Meretun. And, after Easter, 
 
 King .^thered died 
 
 .Alfred succeeded, and, about one 
 month after, fought against the 
 Danes at Wilton, and put them to 
 
 A.D. BOOK OF HIDE ABBEY 
 871. (MACCXESriELD MS.). 
 
 vited John, a monk, from the far- 
 thest parts of "Wales, namely from 
 the Monastery of St. Davids, that 
 he might instruct the nobles in 
 learning 
 
 [871. J AtAshdown, 
 
 constrained by necessity, Alfred 
 gave battle before King Ethelred 
 his brother, then attending mass, 
 was ready The Chris- 
 tians, led by Alfred, climbing the 
 hill, slew Osrith, king of the Danes, 
 with five of the enemy's generals 
 and many soldiers, and pursued the 
 remnant, all day, as far as Reading. 
 
 Ethelred, whom the 
 
 glorious prince Alfred had forced to 
 
 reign before himself, died 
 
 leaving his kingdom to his dearly- 
 loved brother. 
 
 K. Alfred, most devout in Chris- 
 tian faith and piety, fourth in order 
 of birth, who while his brothers 
 reigned was always in a secondary 
 station, succeeded after Ethelred — 
 best loved in the concordant 
 10 
 
146 
 
 THE EARLY BIOGEAPHEES OF ALFEED. 
 
 A.B. 
 
 871. 
 
 AS SEE. 
 
 extraordinary courage and fierceness, the Pagans, 
 
 through the Divine justice, and after the 
 
 slaughter of the greatest part of them, fled dis- 
 gracefully. One of their two kings, and five 
 
 chiefs, perished fourteen 
 
 days after, Ethered and his brother united their 
 
 forces and advanced towards Basing, 
 
 and triumphed. 
 
 Afber Easter, in the same year, K. Ethered 
 
 went the way of all flesh Alfred, who up 
 
 to that time had only held secondary rank, 
 
 undertook the government of the whole realm. 
 
 And, when one month had elapsed, he fought 
 a very severe battle against the whole force of 
 
 the Pagans, on a hill called "Wilton 
 
 But the Pagans deceived their over-sanguine 
 pursuers, returned to the battle and claimed the 
 victory 
 
 Besides this, there were endless skirmishes, 
 both by day and night, in which Alfred was often 
 engaged 
 
 * " AJfi-edus, princeps in fide et reHgione xpiana vigUaoitissimus, qi-tus 
 natn, qui regnantibus fratribus semper fuerat secondarius, post Ethel- 
 dredum, in unicordie fratemaJis armariolo predilectum, ad integram 
 monarchiam 'Westsaxonie successit." 
 
 [The reader who may have inclination and opportunity to look at the 
 translation of Stow's fragment, as given in The Church Sisiorians of 
 
THE EARLY BTOGRAPHEKS OF ALFRED. 
 
 147 
 
 SAXON CHBONICLE. 
 
 flight for a good part of the day. 
 
 A.D. BOOK OE HTDE ABBEY 
 
 871-874. (MACCLESFIELD MS.). 
 
 brotherly breast — to the sole mo- 
 narchy of the "West Saxons, &c.*. , . 
 
 This glorious Prince had a. bat- 
 tle with the Danes at Wilton, in 
 which both armies were in great 
 peril. And so in the first year of 
 his reign he fought with the Danes 
 nine times in the open field 
 
 [874.] In the third year he made 
 peace with them. But in one night 
 they killed all his cavalry. The great 
 king pursued them to Exeter 
 
 i, mil see that the m.any imperfections and confusions of that 
 fragment have led even so experienced and accomplished an editor as 
 Mr. Stevenson into several mistakes. Of these mistakes, and also of many 
 omissions — even in that part of the " Book of Hyde " which is professedly 
 given, — Stow's illegibility and haste are obviously the cause ; as will be 
 perceived, at a glance, if the Lansdowne MS., No. 717, be itself refeiTed to,] 
 
148 
 
 THE EARLY BIOGRAPHEKS OF ALFEED. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 875-877. 
 
 AS SEE. 
 
 [875.] Alfred fought a naval battle 
 
 against six pagan vessels and took one of them, 
 whilst the rest escaped. 
 
 [876.] K. Alfred entered into 
 
 a solemn covenant with the Pagan army, on 
 
 condition that they should depart, giving 
 
 him such hostages as he chose. They also swore 
 
 an oath on all the relics that they 
 
 would immediately leave his realm But, 
 
 acting falsely, they broke the treaty, and 
 
 slew aU the cavalry around the King 
 
 [877.] King Alfred ordered boats 
 
 and galleys to be built throughout the realm, 
 
 and in these he placed expert seamen 
 
 to guard the approach by sea. He himself 
 
 hastened to Exeter, and besieged the 
 
 Pagans within that city 
 
 At Suanavic [Swanwich] in the same year, a 
 hundred and twenty of their ships perished, whUe 
 K. Alfred pursued their cavalry to Exeter 
 where he [again] received hostages. 
 
THE EAELY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 149 
 
 A.B. 
 
 875-877. 
 
 SAXON CHEONICLE. 
 
 [875.] In the Summer, 
 
 Mfred went out to sea witli a fleet, 
 and fought against the forces of 
 seven ships. One of them he took, 
 and put the rest to flight. 
 
 [876.] Afterwards the 
 
 King made peace, and the Pagans 
 gave to him hostages, and swore 
 oaths to him on the holy ring 
 
 [877.] K. Mlirei with his forces 
 rode after the [Pagan] Army as far 
 
 as Exeter Their fleet 
 
 was overtaken by a great storm and 
 a hundred and twenty of their ships 
 
 were wrecked at S wanawic 
 
 They delivered hostages to Alfred 
 and then observed the peace 
 
 [878.] Alfred, with a small band, 
 retired with difficulty to the woods 
 and the moors 
 
 And after this, at Easter, con- 
 structed a fortress at ^thelney, 
 
 and rode 
 
 to Ecgbyrth's-stane 
 
 and to Ethandune, and there fought 
 against the whole [Pagan] army and 
 
 put them to flight 
 
 and that army delivered 
 
 a.d. book oe hyde abbey 
 
 877. (maocleseieid ms.). 
 
 [877.] In the sisth year of his 
 reign, ... the Danes, sailing from 
 Wareham towards Exeter, lost a 
 hundred and twenty vessels in a 
 
 storm at sea Alfred 
 
 passed a precarious and restless life 
 in the woods of Somersetshire, for he 
 had nothing to live upon, save what 
 he caught by fowling, by fishing, or 
 
 by hunting 
 
 " [Then follotos the story of the 
 vision of St. Outhbert.'] 
 
 " Encouraged by the admonitions 
 of St. Outhbert, the King issued 
 
 from his covert ; and, in the 
 
 garb of a minstrel, entered the tents 
 of the Danish King, and thence, 
 having explored them, returned to 
 
 Ethelingey And, presently, 
 
 overthrew his foes, by sudden on- 
 set, with great slaughter. ... With 
 
150 
 
 THE EARLY BIOGEAPHERS OP ALFRED. 
 
 A.B. 
 
 878. 
 
 ASSEE. 
 
 [878.] In that year, Alfred, 
 
 with a few of his nobles and soldiers, passed a 
 restless life in much anxiety among the wood- 
 lands and marshes of the County of Somerset. 
 
 As we read in the Life of St. 
 
 JSTeot, he was long concealed in the dwelling of 
 
 one of his own cowherds {Then foUoios 
 
 the well-Tcnoivn story of the country housewife and 
 the cakes, and also the famous passage on the in- 
 firmities and the affliction of the JKing.] 
 
 K. Alfred formed a citadel in a place called 
 " ^thelingaeg," whence he made ceaseless as- 
 saults upon the Pagans and, in 
 
 the seventh week after Easter, he rode to 
 Aecgbryht's-stone [Brixton-Deverel ? in Wilts], 
 
 in the Eastern part of Selwood 
 
 and thence removed his standard 
 
 to Ethandune [Edington], where he contended 
 in close phalanx against aU the Pagan forces 
 
 and, by Divine aid, won the victory, 
 
 and pursued the enemy with great 
 
 slaughter 
 
 " Godrum," their king he received, 
 
 at a place called Abe, near ^thelingaeg, as his 
 adopted son, and raised him from the sacred 
 font. His chrism-loosing took place at the royal 
 
 vill called "Waedmor And 
 
 King Alfred bountifully gave him many excel- 
 lent dwellings 
 
THE EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 151 
 
 A.B. 
 
 878. 
 
 SAXON CHEONICLE. 
 
 a.d. book 01? hyde abbey 
 
 878. (maoclespield ms.). 
 
 hostages to him, witii many oaths. 
 
 [878.] And the King was God- 
 father to " Gruthrum " at baptism 
 at Aulre, and his chrism- 
 loosing was at "Wedmore ; 
 
 and .Alfred greatly honoured him 
 with gifts 
 
 the help of the people of "Wilts, 
 Somerset, and Hants, he built a 
 citadel atEthelingey (" the Island of 
 Nobles"), whence, rushing on the 
 enemy, he repeatedly overthrew 
 them. At length, receiving hostages, 
 he took their king, "Gutrus," to the 
 font with twenty of his best men, 
 and gave to him the name of Athel- 
 stan But the Ethiop can- 
 not easily change his skin 
 
 Gutrus remained a tyrant for twelve 
 
 years He was succeeded by 
 
 a Dane named Echric 
 
 Alfred, like a iiecond Mattathias, 
 
 fought, in one year, nine 
 
 battles against the Danes, and at last 
 the victory, through Divine Provi- 
 dence, remained with him 
 
 But 
 
 the provinces which that renowned 
 prince had given to the Danish king 
 
 to dwell in, not to govern, 
 
 threw off their allegiance, when 
 "Gurmund" rebelled against his 
 spiritual father; and thus Alfred, 
 like his brother Ethelred, lost, by 
 his own goodness, that sole Mo- 
 narchy of all England, which through- 
 out his life he could never recover. 
 
152 
 
 THE EAELT BIOGRAPHEES OF ALFRED. 
 
 [882.] In this year, Alfred fought a naval 
 
 tattle, and captured two of the 
 
 Pagan ships 
 
THE EARLY BIOGRAPHEES OP ALFRED. 
 
 153 
 
 A.D. 
 
 882-883. 
 
 SAXON OHBONICIB. 
 
 A.D. BOOK OF HTDE ABBET 
 
 881-883. (maoolesi'ield MS.). 
 
 [881 ?] In the same year, on the 
 death of Bishop Tunbert, Alfred 
 appointed Dunewulph to the see of 
 Winchester. Discovering the na- 
 tural talent of the man whilst he 
 was yet a swineherd, he sent him, 
 though advanced in life, to be in- 
 structed in learning. Never did 
 Alfred allow any unlettered person 
 to acquire rank in the Church. ... 
 
 Alfred then repaired Septonia, 
 
 which is Shaftesbury ; 
 
 received from Pope Martin [Martin 
 II, 882—884] a large piece of the 
 
 Cross ; and, in the 
 
 seventh year of his reign, 
 
 compelled the Danes to raise the 
 
 siege of Rochester 
 
 In the same year, he repaired Lon- 
 don, and entrusted the keep' 
 
 ing of it to Ethelred, Earl of the 
 Mercians 
 
 [882.] Alfred went out with his 
 ships and fought against the Danes, 
 and took two of their ships 
 
 [883.] That same year, Sighelm 
 and ^thelstan carried to Rome the 
 alms which the King had vowed to 
 send thither, and also to India, to 
 St. Thomas and St. Bartholomew, 
 when he sat down against the army 
 
 at London and largely 
 
 obtained the object of his prayer. 
 And Marinus 
 
 [883.] About this time the illus- 
 trious king sent his alms to Rome 
 and to India, and built two monas- 
 tries, at Ethelingesye and at Shaftes- 
 bury 
 
 On a certain day, while the 
 Danes were pressing hard upon him, 
 he refused to leave the Church in 
 which he was hearing Mass, until 
 
]54 THE EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 ASSDB. 
 
THE EARLY BIOGRAPHEES OF ALFEED. 
 
 155 
 
 A.B. 
 
 883. 
 
 SAXON CHRONICLE. 
 
 the Pope sent 
 to K. iElfred. 
 
 ' Lignum Domini 
 
 A.D. BOOK OF HYDE ABBEY 
 
 883. (MAOOLEsriELD MS.). 
 
 the service was over, but as 
 
 soon as it was finished he joined 
 combat with the Danes, slew their 
 king, Oseg, with a lance, and the 
 king's son with his sword. Many 
 other of the Danish leaders fell 
 there, and the victory remained with 
 King Alfred. 
 
 Many more battles did he fight, — 
 which it would take too long to nar- 
 rate, — for the Danes allowed him 
 
 no breathing time 
 
 But at length he reduced them to 
 subjection 
 
 This Alfred promulgated most 
 
 excellent laws 
 
 He used always to carry in his 
 bosom a Psalter, so that whenever he 
 might chance to have leisure he 
 
 could take it out to read 
 
 The rebelliousness of the 
 
 flesh at that time caused him much 
 
 disgust But he used to 
 
 contemplate the examples of the 
 Saints, that he might drive away 
 temptation, beseeching Q-od to chas' 
 ten his flesh with some infirmity, if 
 it might please Him not to render the 
 king wholly unflt for the govern- 
 ment of his kingdom. And, for 
 many years. Divine Providence 
 caused him to suffer from the disease 
 
 called "ficua" On which 
 
 account, despairing of cure, he went 
 into Cornwall, to the Church of St, 
 
156 
 
 THE EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 884. 
 
 ASSEE. 
 
 [884.] To the succour of Eochester, Alfred 
 
 arrived with a large army Then, the 
 
 Pagans fled hastily to their ships 
 
 and were so hotly pursued that they returned to 
 
 France the same summer 
 
 Pope Martin sent many presents to the aforesaid 
 King, among which was no small part of that 
 sacred and venerable Cross on which Our Lord 
 was suspended, for the salvation of all mankind 
 
 In the same year the Pagan force disgracefully 
 violated the peace which they had made with 
 K. Alfred 
 
 l^TJien follows the long digression on Alfred's 
 character, sickness, and piety ; and on the per- 
 sonal intercourse which Asser had held with 
 •J 
 
 [886.] Alfred handsomely rebuilt the city of 
 London, made it habitable, and entrusted it to 
 the care of his son-in-law, ^thered. Earl of 
 Mercia 
 
 [" In the same year, an injurious and distress- 
 ing discord arose at Oxford." 
 
 Sere follows the famous passage alleged to 
 have been interpolated hy Camden; — of which 
 hereafter.] 
 
THE EARLY BIOGRAPHERS OP ALFRED. 
 
 157 
 
 A.D. 
 
 885. 
 
 SAXON CHBONICIiE. 
 
 a.d. book of hyde abbey 
 883. (macclespieid ms.). 
 
 Guerour But a much 
 
 more serious illness seized him, even 
 on his "Wedding-day, and continued 
 from his twentieth until his sixty- 
 fifth \_Sic in MS. for forty-Mth.] 
 year 
 
 [885 ?] The townsmen defended 
 Eochester tiU ^Elfred came with his 
 forces. 
 
 That same year Alfred sent a fleet 
 
 to East Anglia and they 
 
 captured the ships of the pirates ; 
 but, as they returned home, with 
 their booty, a large fleet of pirates 
 fought against them and had the 
 victory. 
 
 [885.] The Pagan army broke the 
 peace made with Alfred 
 
 [886.] Alfred repaired London, 
 and all the English submitted 
 themselves to him except those who 
 were in bondage to the Danes. 
 
158 
 
 THE EAELY BIOGEAPHEES OF ALEEED. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 887. 
 
 ASSER. 
 
 [887.] In this year K. Alfred began to read 
 and to interpret, all at once, on the same day. 
 by a Divine instinct 
 
 „ This king was pierced with many nails of tri- 
 bulation, although invested with royal authority. 
 
 And was harassed by the constant invasions 
 which left him no interval of repose 
 
 He founded two monasteries, 
 them amply 
 
 and endowed 
 
 \_Then follow the passages on the division of 
 his revenues, and the employment of his time.'\ 
 
THE EAELT BIOGEAPHEES 0¥ ALPEED. 
 
 159 
 
 A.D. 
 
 887-901. 
 
 SAXON CHEONIOLE. 
 
 [887.] Alderman ^thelhelm car- 
 ried the alms of K. jElfred to 
 
 Eome 
 
 [888.] Alderman Beocca carried 
 
 the alms of K. .Alfred to 
 
 Eome 
 
 [894.] K. Alfred gathered 
 
 together his forces, and fought 
 agaiast the Pagans at Earnham, 
 
 and put their 
 
 army to flight But 
 
 those who dwelt among the Nor- 
 thumbrians and the East Anglians 
 gathered ships; and be- 
 sieged a fortress in Devonshire 
 
 When the King heard that, 
 
 he turned westward towards Exeter, 
 
 of the Danes there was 
 slaughter 
 
 . and 
 great 
 
 [896.] M\£red commanded long 
 ships to be built to oppose the 
 'sescas' of the Danes 
 
 [901.] In this year died Alfred, 
 six days before All-hallowmass. 
 
 A.D. BOOK or HYDE ABBEY. 
 
 900. (MACCLESriBLD MS.). 
 
 [900] In the last year 
 
 of his reign, this most benignant 
 of sovereigns first avowed to Holy 
 G-rimbald his determination to build 
 a monastery in "Winchester, but, 
 prevented by death, the most pious 
 king was unable [in person] to fulfil 
 his vow 
 
160 THE EAELT BIOGEAPHERS OF ALFRED. 
 
 These passages I am obliged both to abridge and to 
 select. But they will, I think, suffice to justify the asser- 
 tion that in the Chronicle of Hyde we have an authority 
 whichj in some important particulars, is both independent 
 and interesting. 
 
 The interest would doubtless be materially increased if 
 the comparison were carried far enough to show what is 
 the precise bearing of the new matter contained in this 
 Chronicle, — concerning the early history of Oxford and the 
 life and influence of St. Grimbald, — upon the old and much- 
 controverted question as to the authenticity of that famous 
 passage in Asser, which has led to a perhaps too-confident 
 aspersion upon the venerable name of Camden. This will 
 need to be done, but it cannot satisfactorily be dealt with 
 now. 
 
 Hereafter, too, it may be possible to show that the Book 
 of Hyde Abbey — in respect as well of its defects, and con- 
 fused chronology, as of its sources and general character — 
 has a wider bearing on other questions which relate to 
 Alfred's biography and early biographers. I will hope 
 that I may be enabled by and bye to submit the Chronicle, 
 in its entirety, to the examination of more competent 
 antiquaries. I Lave already, by the kind permission of the 
 Earl of Macclesfield, completed a transcript of it. 
 
AUTHORITIES OF THE HYDE CHRONICLER,. 161 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LIST O!' THE AUTHORITIES QUOTED BY THE HYDE 
 CHRONICLER. 
 
 The following is a complete List of the Authorities — 
 in the order of the first occurrence of each of them — 
 which are avowedly quoted in Liher de Hyda, as it appears 
 in the Macclesfield MS. :— 
 
 1. Ralph [Higden] of Chester, Po/yc/^ro;^^co?^ ; 
 
 Book I, c. 9, Story of Bnitus, &c. 
 
 „ V, c. 39, The sending of Alfi'ed to Modewenna, iu 
 
 Ireland. 
 „ VI, c. 1 — 6, The Life of Alfred, generally. 
 „ „ c. 7, Bones of Galfredus, &c., at Glastonbury. 
 „ „ c. 8, Death and Character of Edwy, &c. 
 ,, „ c. 12, Murder and burial of Edward the Martyr. 
 „ „ c. 13, Childhood of Ethelred. 
 ,, „ c. 16, Sack of Canterbury by the Panes, 
 
 2. ViNCENTius, Speculum Historiale •• 
 
 P. 4, ■■ Brutus and Marcomannus, " 
 
 3. Vigilantius, De Basilica Petri: 
 
 C. 8, Conversion of Ethelwold. 
 
 „ 9, Council at Winchester ("vocal crucifix") [Twice 
 
 quoted]. 
 „ 15, Monkhood of Athtdf or Ethelwulf. 
 
 4. Alfred (" Treasurer of Beverley/' Aluredus Beoer- 
 
 liacensis). Chronica : 
 
 Egbert's Conquest of Essex. 
 
 Life of St. Dunstan. 
 
 Death of Edmund the Elder. 
 
 Edmund Ironside — Battle of Scearstan. 
 
 11 
 
102 AUTHORITIES OF THE HYDE CHRONICLER. 
 
 5. " Cronicantes Regnum Onentalium Saxonmn .-" 
 
 Pagan Kings of Esses. 
 
 6. Beda, " De gestis Anglorwm :" 
 
 " 1, 0. 29," Conversion of Sibert (K. of Essex). 
 " III, c. 17." „ Peada 
 
 " V. c. 7." CeadwaUa, — whether monk or not ? 
 ,, adfinem, Account of his own works. 
 
 7. Ralph de Diceto (Archdeacon of London) : 
 
 Foundation of Westminster Abbey. 
 
 8. "Florentius, Florarium Ilisioria/e :" 
 
 IV, c. 16, Burning of Cambridge. 
 
 9. IsiDORUs, Eiymologia : 
 
 IX, " Germania." 
 
 ] 0. William of Malmesbury, ~De llegibus .- 
 
 I, Egbert " monarch ;" Beda. 
 II. „ in France. 
 
 Expulsion of the Seculars. 
 Athelstan's war with Constantine of Scotland. 
 Yerses on Athelstan. 
 
 Imprisonment and Release of Abp. Ulfstan. 
 Coronation of Edwy, &c. 
 „ Death of Edwy. 
 
 Edgar's legislation on drinking " ai mensurain." 
 Death of Edward the Elder ; Murder and Burial of 
 Edward, K. and Martyr ; Baptism and Childhood of 
 Etheh-ed. 
 
 11. William of Malmesbury, De Pontificihus -. 
 
 n, Removal and Reburial of the body of St. Elphege. 
 IV, Maiolus at Cluny. 
 
 12. Bonagratia {de Villa Dei), Ejoistola ad. Monachos 
 
 Nigros in Anglia. 
 Monkhood of Athulf. 
 
 13. Lanteredus, Vita Sancfi SwitJiini : 
 
 1, Prosa nona. [Printed in Migne, Patrologue Cwrms, 
 Tom. CLV, pp. 62, seqq.] 
 
AUTHORITIES OF THE HYDE CHRONICLER'. 163 
 
 14. Marianus Scotus, Chronica: 
 
 I, c. 16, Education of the Children of Edward the Elder. 
 
 Gift of Fragments of theHoly Cross to Malmesbury. 
 11, Victories of Edmund over the Danes. 
 
 Death of Edmund. 
 Comparison of Edwy and Edgar (" Good and bad 
 
 plants growing on the same soU.") 
 Establishment and Reformation of Monasteries by 
 
 Edgar. 
 Suppression of Robbers. 
 Battle of Scearstan. 
 
 15. Gerard of Cornwall [Girardus, Cornubiensis]. Be 
 
 Gestis Hegwm Westsaxonum : 
 
 CIO, 11, 14, Life of Alfred. 
 
 V, c. 1 0, Schools at Cambridge, founded by Edward the 
 
 Elder, 
 XI, Combat of Guy of Warwick and Colbrand the Dane. 
 
 16. Henry of Huntingdon : 
 
 V, Verses on Alfred. 
 
 17. Vita Sancti Athelwoldi, c. 10. 
 
 18. An Anonymous versifier on Athelstan. 
 
 19. Joannes, Historia Aurea: 
 
 Establishment of Monks at Winchester, and at Thorney, 
 
 under Edgar [Twice quoted]. 
 Account of Beda. 
 
 20. Seneca : 
 
 " Gallus in proprio sterquUinio." 
 
 21. Vita Sandi Elcuti : 
 
 Dream of Edgar. 
 
 22. An Anonymous versifier on Edgar. 
 
 23. " OsDUERUS," Vita Sancti Dunstani- 
 
 24. Matthew Paris -. 
 
 Battle of Penn. 
 Battle of Scearstan, 
 
IG-l. AUTHORITIES OF THE HIDE CHEONICLER. 
 
 25. [Roger of Wendover.J Flores Historiarum. 
 
 Beign and Murder of Edmund Ironside. 
 Events in the reign of Canute. 
 
 26. Liber de Gestis Pontificum Bunelmensimn . 
 
 Election and Life of Bp. Edmund. 
 Honours paid to St. Outibert by Canute. 
 Account of Beda. 
 
 27. " Libello Be Vita Venerahilis Beda!' 
 
 28. Leg enda Sanctorum: 
 
 On the Origin of the Epithet " Venerabilis Beda." 
 
 29. Vita Sancti Birini: 
 
 [Quoted, but not expressly named.] 
 
 30. Vita Sancti Cuthberti. 
 
 Of these authorities, the Spectdmii. Historiale of Viii- 
 centius ; the work De Basilica Petri, of Vigilantius ; the 
 Epistola of Bonagratia ; the Liistoria Aurea ; and liearly 
 the whole of Gerard of Cornwall, De Gestis Begum West- 
 saxonum, together with the work cited as " Cronicantes 
 Begnum Orientalium Saxonum," are not now known to 
 exist. And e\eii as respects mere citation, but little more 
 is known about any of them, than may be gathered from 
 the passages quoted in the Chronicle of Hyde, and in the 
 Historia Major Wintoniensis, of Thomas Rudborne. 
 
DOCUMENTS TX THE HYDE CHAllTULAEY. 1G5 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CONCERNING THE DOCUMENTS EXHIBITED IN THE HYDE 
 CBARTULARY. TEXT OF KING ALFRED'S WILL IN ANGLO- 
 SAXON AND IN MIDDLE ENGLISH. 
 
 The Wills given in this Chartulary are those of (1) 
 King Alfred ; (2) Elfsige, a Bishop ; (:3) King Edred ; (4) 
 Athelwold, one of the Officers of King Ethelred II ; (5) 
 Athelmar, a " Duke" or military leader under Ethelred II. 
 All of them are given in Latin, in Anglo-Saxon, and in 
 Middle English. 
 
 The Charters, or portions of Charters, conveying grants 
 of lands to Hyde Abbey, — or to persons who afterwards 
 gave or bequeathed the possessions first granted to them 
 to that Community, — are twenty-five in number. They 
 Mre the Grants of Edw^ard the Elder, of Athelstan, of 
 Edred, of Edwy, of Edgar, and of Ethelred II. Tlie 
 boundaries of the lands granted (as I have already men- 
 tioned,) are uniformly given in the three languages, severally. 
 In the proems we meet with Greek words, such as " cosmi," 
 " protoplastos," and the like, which, — as Mr. Kemble has 
 long since pointed out in the preface to his invaluable 
 Codex Biplomaticiis Mvi Saxonici, — are in perfect keeping 
 with the style of the tenth century, although very suspi- 
 cious if met with in documents claiming to be of a date 
 anterior to Alfred. The " sanctions," too, are uniformly of 
 the kind usunl at the period. The date of the indiction is 
 
166 ALFRED'S WILL, IN ANGLO-SAXON. 
 
 commonly given, and is sometimes accompanied by the 
 dominical year. In the "teste," the uncouth use of 
 Anglo-Saxon characters in writing Latin words is also 
 common. Most of the lands granted are situated either 
 in Hampshire, in Surrey, or in Sussex. Kent occurs but 
 rarely. 
 
 '""wm^'"''' Of the famous Will of King Alfred, no MS. was accessi- 
 ble to Mr. Kemble, notwithstanding his wide-spread re- 
 searches. Manning had printed it, in 1788, from a MS. 
 then belonging to Mr. Astle, afterwards preserved in the 
 Duke of Buckingham's Library at Stowe, and now, it is 
 believed, in the rich collection of Lord Ashburnham, but 
 he failed to obtain a sight of the MS. itself. He therefore 
 printed after Manning's text, as the only alternative. 
 
 In the text of this Will, as given in the Macclesfield 
 MS. of the Chronicle and Chartulary of Hyde, there are 
 many obvious corruptions. The Will itself is treated as 
 two separate documents, which are divided by a portion of 
 the Chronicle. The orthography is very corrupt. In 
 writing compound words, the particles are often sepa- 
 rated, in a fashion more than usually uncouth. But I 
 think it best to copy — as literally as may be — the MS., as 
 it stands before me. 
 
 " Incipit Testamentum Alfkedi Regis Incliti in lingua 
 
 Saxonica :" 
 
 " Krst " Ic Aelfred cinge, mid goddes gyfe and mid ge- 
 
 iifred in^ theahtuDge Aejieredes ercebisceopes and ealra West- 
 
 Aiigio-saxon. seaxena witena gewittenesse, smeade ymbe minre sawle 
 
 thearfe, and ymbe min yrfe thaet me god and min ildran 
 for-geafon, and ymbe that yrfe thaet Athulf , cinge^ min 
 faeder, us thrim gebrotherun beouaethe, Ethelbolde and 
 Etherede and me, and s>wylc ure swylc lengest waerCj 
 
ALFRED'S WILL, IN ANGLO-wSAXON. 167 
 
 thaet se fenge to eallum ; ac hit ge-lamp thaet Athelbolde 
 gefore, -3 wyt Aetlieredj mid ealre Westseaxena wytena 
 gewittenesse uncurne dael othe-faestan Ethelbirt ciuge 
 uncrum maege ; on tha ge-raedene the he hit eft ge-dyde 
 unc swa ge-wylde swa hit tha waes, tha wit hit him othe- 
 faestan, -) he tha swa dyde, ge thaet yrfe, ga thaet he mid 
 uncrum ge-manan be-geat -j thaet he sylf gestrynde. 
 Tha hit swa ge-lamp thaet Ethered to fenge, tha baed ic 
 hine, be-foran urum witum eallum, thaet wit thaet yrfe 
 gedaeldon -j he me a-geafe minne dael, tha saede he me 
 thaet he naht eathe ne mihte to-daelon, for-thon he 
 haefde ful oft aer on-ge-fangen -3 he cuaethe thaes the 
 he ou uncrum ge-manan ge-bruce •] gestrynde, aeftyr his 
 daege he namum menu sel ne uthe thonne me ■] ic thaes 
 tha waes wel ge-thafa. Ac hit ge-lamp thaet we ealle on 
 haethenum folce ge-brocude waeron; tha spraece wit 
 ymbe uncre beam, thaet hy sumre are be-thorftan, saelde 
 unc on tham brocum swa unc saeld, tha waeron we on 
 gemote aet Swiubeorgum ; tha ge-cpaedon wit on West- 
 seaxena witena gewittenesse thaet swather uncer leng 
 waere, thaet he ge-uthe otheres bearnum thara lauda the 
 wit sylfe begeaton, "j thara land the unc Aethulf cinge 
 forgeaf be Athelbold lifiendum, butan tham the us thrim 
 gebrotherum ge-cuaethe; "j thaes uncer aegther othrum 
 his wedd sealde swather uncer leng lifede, thaet se fenge 
 aegether ge to land ge to madumnu^ 'j I0 eallum his 
 aehtum, butan tham daele the uncer ge-whaether his 
 bearmunn^ becpaed. Ac hit gelamp thaet Etliered cinge 
 ge-for, tha ne cpdde me nanan mannum* nanan yrfe-ge- 
 wryt, ne nane gewittenesse, thaet hit aenig other waere 
 butan swa hit on gewittenesse aer ge-cpaedon, tha ge- 
 hyrde we nu manegu yrfe-geflitu: nu tha laedde ic Aethulfes 
 cinges yrfe-ge-writ on ure gemot aet Laugan-dene •] hit 
 man a-raedde be forane eallum Westseaxena witura. That* 
 hit a-raedde waes, tha baed ic hy ealle, for minre lufan ^ 
 him mine wedd bead that ic hyra naefre maenne^ ne on- 
 
 Madmum (Manning's text). = Bearnum. ' Nan mann. 
 
 ^ Tha. * Naenne. 
 
168 ALFRED'S WILL, IN ENGLISH. 
 
 cuthe for-thon the by on riht spraecon, ^ thae hira naniie^ 
 wandode, ne for minan lufan ne for minan^ aege, thaet hy 
 timet folc-riht arehton ; thylaes aenge^ man cuethe thaet 
 ic min maeege-cyld, otthe yldran otthe gingran, mid tho 
 fordemde, and hy tha ealla to riht gerehton ~j cuedon that 
 hy nane rihtre riht ge-thecan ne myhtan ne on tham yrfe- 
 gewrite ge-hyran : nu hit eal] agan is thaer on* othe thyn 
 hand, then thu it be-cuethe 'j sylle swa ge-sibre handa 
 swa fremdre, swaether the leofre sy : ■] hy ealle me thaes 
 hyra weodd sealdon 'j hyra hand setene, that be hyra life 
 hit naenge mannan naefre waende^ on nane other wisan, 
 butan swa swa ic hit sylf ge-cuaethe aet tham nyhstan 
 daege." 
 
 " ExpLANATio Testamenti Alfredi E-egis, de lingua 
 Saxonica in Anglicam : — 
 
 (2) In Middle « I Alfred westsaxene kyng thorw goddys gyft and by 
 
 the ordenawns of Ethered Erehebyschop, and of alle 
 westsaxene nobylte, wytenesse be they schull of the intent 
 for my sowle powerte of the herytage that god and my 
 prycys have y gyfe me, and of the herytage that Athulf 
 kyng my fadyr us thre btetheryn be qweythyd, Athelbold, 
 and Ethered, and me, that ho of us the wyche lengist 
 lyvyd schold have all the kyngdom. And yf hyt happe 
 that Ethelbold fyrst be dede, than Ethered, wyht all the 
 nobylte of westsexene to be wyttenesse of owr partye the 
 tyme of Ethelbyrt kyngys coronation w' all owr power 
 aftyr the sewerte that he made to us that he so wolde 
 hyt be as hyt was when he hyt knew to fore the tyme of 
 hys coronacyon, whan he hys sewerte made of the herytage 
 the whyche he w* owre help and men getyth and that 
 whetto is bore, and hyt so happyd that Ethered fenge to 
 the kyngdome tho bade y hym be fore all owre wyttenesse 
 that he know te heritage to departe, and he to gyfe me 
 
 ' Thaet liyra nan ne. ^ Minum. s Aenig. 
 
 * On dseron. ' NiBnig man njefre ne onwende. 
 
ALFRED'S WILL, IN ENGLISH. 1G9 
 
 my part. Tho seyd he to me that he naw3t scholdu iie 
 m_v3t hyt departe for so myche that he hyt so long holl hath 
 y holde, but he seyde thus that the londys that he thorow 
 help of owre pepyll hat gete and the lyfelode that he was 
 bore to, to no man aftyr hys day to have and for to 
 rejoyse, hys herytage take wolde but onlyche to me. And 
 tho was y wel plesyd. And yf hyt happyd that we alle 
 were had and take to hethyn folke; than knowe we to 
 ordeyne for owre chyldryn that evereyche of hem myjt 
 aftyr other take owre londys and to rejoyse as they were 
 take to us. We therfore gaderyd at Swvmborn, where 
 we seyden in knowleche of alle Westsaxene lordys that 
 they ber wytnesse that wheyther of us lenger lyfe, that 
 he be qweythe otherys chyldryn tho londis that we owre 
 sylf gate and tho londis that kyng adulpf us yafe by 
 Ethelboldys lyfday, w* owte that the wheche to us thre 
 bretheryn he be qwethyd. And so of us eythyr other 
 hys sewerte that whether of us lenger lyved that he fong 
 to otherys lond and lordschyp, and to all hys good, 
 w' owte that part that eytlier of us otherys chyld be 
 qweythyd^ and hyt so happe that Ethered kyng dye befove 
 me, than w* owte me ys no man none eyre by wrytynge 
 ne by no wytnesse that eny other were w' owte that he 
 hyt by wyttenesse the rathyr sey : Tho y hyrde that my 
 kynuys folke was passed owt of the wordele^ so than was y 
 Kyng Athulphys eyr thorw wrytynge and owre cownseyl 
 at Langdene. And a man hyt redde by fore wyttenesse 
 of alle Westsexene. When hyt redde was tho comawndyd 
 y hem all for my lofe and to hem y made sewrte that y 
 nevyr hyrde of man ne of coude that of my lyflode eny 
 ryth claymyd and that y nevyr hyrd contrarye. And no 
 man for my lofe nother for myn hatered sey a yens ryth 
 nother untrewthe sey that y my cosynnys chyld olde or 
 yonge not desheryte. And they alle to the ryth consentyd 
 and seyden that they knew no rythtyr eyer nother be 
 thenke coude ne mythte no other of othyr eyr here eny 
 wrytynge but of me ; now thw hast hyt all a yen in thyn 
 bond, now beqwethe hyt and yyf (sic) hyt to thy next kyn 
 or frend, whether the lefyst ys. And they all to me here 
 
i/O ALFEED'S WILL, IN ANGLO-SAXON. 
 
 sewerte made and w* here lionde a seled that by liere lyf 
 nevyr hyt to eny man nother other wyse torne nother 
 jyfe but so as y my self hyt be qwethe at the nexte 
 day." 
 
 Tiie Con- 
 
 tiiiiiation, 01" 
 
 " Siicond 
 
 Will " of 
 
 King Alfi'cd. 
 
 " Tncipit secundum testamentum Alpbedi Regis incliti, in 
 LINGUA Saxonica : 
 
 '\* All tliese documents are here given, literally, as they appear in 
 the Macclesfield MS. 
 
 " Ic Alfred )7estseaxena cmge mib godes gife -j mid 
 , }7isse ge-pittenesse ge-cpe^e hu ic ymbe mm yyfe asftest^ 
 mmum dsege. asnest ic an Eadpearide minan yldrian suna 
 Jjese landes set striagtneat on truconscipe, j heoritig tunes, 
 •] jja boc-land ealle 'pe Leof-heah hylt ■] f land ast carurn- 
 tune, 'J set cylfantune, ■j set bunnhamme j set pebraon ; "j ic 
 eom fyrinjbig to ]>au\ hipum set ceobrie f hy hme ceosan 
 on ]7a genab lj>eye sen ge-cpeben hsefbon mib bam lanb set 
 ciptune T J^am ]?e J^seri to hyria'S, 'j ic him an ]>aes lanbes 
 set cantuctuiie ■] set bedemdan "j ast fefesige' 'j hyssebun 
 nan j ast suttune ■j set leobruban •] set apeltune. ~) ealle |;a 
 boclanb .pe ic on cent habbe -j set J>am nySenan hysse- 
 bunnan ■] set cyselbeue agyfe man in to Jiintanceastrie 
 on )?a geria^ f hit mm fseberi asri ge-cye'Se, -j f ura 
 sundoii-feoh^ ]?set ic egulfe O'S fa°ste on J^am neo^erian 
 hysseburinan. -\ }?an gmjiian minan suna pa. lanb set 
 eaberungtune ■] ^ set bene ^ ^ set meone ^ set ambries 
 byrij T seet beone -j set stune mynsteri -j set gifle 7 set 
 crmserm ;] set hpitan cyrucan ~} set axanmu^an -j set 
 brumcsescumbe ^ set columtune -j set tpyfiribe ^ set mylen- 
 burnan •] set exanmynsteri ■] set su^espyri^e "] set liptune -) 
 pa, lanb pe pen to hyrian, f smb ealle pe ic on pealcyne 
 haebbe butan truconstirie. ■;) mmrie yldstan behteri Jisene 
 ham ast pelepe, -) psene mebemestan set clearian ^ set 
 cenbeferi, ~j psene jinjestan ]7one ham ast pelij^ -j set 
 
 Yi-lti wille iBfter (Majining's text). = Beoewin'ean T at Pefesigge. 
 
 ■' Fffl't.or xr gecwaiS, t i-xt min sim'^erfeoh. 
 
ALFRED'S WILL, IN ANGLO-SAXON. 171 
 
 fEschune^ ~) aet cippanhammej ^ ae'Selme mines bno'Seii 
 sutia )5one ham aet ealbing hurman^ ^ ast cumtune ^ set 
 crumbellan ■^ ast beabmja T set beabmja hamme -\ ajt 
 burinham ■j set Jjunpesfelba ■3 aet sescenjum ; ~j aj^elpolbe 
 mines brio^on suna j7one hamme ast jobelminjum ^ est 
 jilbeforiba -) aet staeninguj ■] osferi^e mmum msege ]>oiie 
 ham set beccanlea';) sethpySeriam felda ■] set biccanhnjum 
 ^ set su^tune ~} set lullinge mmsteri ~) set anjemaermjum 
 ■J cet felh hamme ■] ]?a lanb ]>e Jjseri to hyrian, -j ealhspi^e 
 ]7one ham set lambbunnam ■] ret panetinj •] aet e^anbune, 
 ^ mmnum tpan sunum an ]?usenb jiunba, sej^riumfif hunb 
 punba, ■] mmrie ylbstan behteri ^ jjaerie mibemestan -j 
 Jjserie jmjstan 'j ealhspi^e, him feopjium, feopep huiib punba 
 aelcum an hunb punba, "3 mmpa ealbop-manna elcum 
 an hunb manjcusa, ~) 8ej7elme ^ a"5elpolbe ^ osfep^e 
 eac spa, -} asjiepebe ealbopmenn anb speopbon hunb 
 teontijum mancusum, "] |7am mannum |?e me folpa'S J)e ic 
 nu on eastep-tibum feoh sealbe tpa hunb punba agife 
 man him -j baele man him be-tpeoh aslcum spa him to ge- 
 byrian pille aeftep ]7sepe pisan ]?e hic him nu baele', ^ ]7am 
 epce-bisceope c. mancusa, -] esne bisceop 'j pepfeptie 
 bisceope 'j ]>a.m aet scireburnam, eac spa ge-baele fop me j 
 fop mm faebep ^ fop )?a fscynb'* {sic) J?e he fope j7ingobe 
 'J ic fope )Jingie, tpa hnnb punba, fiftig m«sse-ppeostoun 
 ofep eall min pice, fiftig eajimum go^ef {sic) jjeopum, fiftig 
 eapmum peapfum, fiftig to J^aepe crpican ])e ic set pest, ~) 
 ic nat naht gepislice hpseSep p^p feop spa micel ip, ne ic 
 nat Jjeah hip mape sy butan spa ic pene. Gif hit mape sy 
 beo hit him eallum gemene ]>e ic feoh be-cpe^en hmbbe, 
 T 10 pille ]>Sit mine ealdop-menn ■] mm fenig-menn Jpaep 
 ealle mib synban -j )7is )7us gebaelan. )7onne ha;fbe ic eep 
 on o^pe pisan a-ppitan ymbe ymbe {sic) myn ypfe ]>a ic 
 hsefbe mape feoh T ma maga ~) hsefbe monegCi manna )?a 
 ge-ppitu o^e-faest -j on ]>ay ylcan ge-pittenesse hy pajpon 
 a-ppitene, ]?onne hjebbe ic nu foribaermeb^ ]>& ealban ]7e ic 
 ge-ahsian mihte. Gif hyria^ hpylc funben bi-S ne fori- 
 
 ' ^sctune. = Burnan. " Dml&e. ■' Fryiid. 
 
 ^ PorbiErne'o. " Hyra. 
 
172 ALFRED'S WILL, IN ANGLO-SAXON. 
 
 stent^ Jiset naht, fori^-Jjam ic pille ]>eet hit nu ]?us sy iiiih 
 gohes fultume. ~} ic piUe Jja menu lj>e Jja laub habba'S ]>a, 
 poi'ib ge-lsestan ]>e on mines feber yrife ge-prrite^ stanba^, 
 sja spa hy fyrimest* magou, ■] ic pille gife ic aenigum menn 
 aenij feoh unleanob haebbe Jȣet mine magas f hujiu je-le- 
 anian. ^ ic pille ]7a menm pe ic mine boc-lanb be-cpebSu 
 hsebbe 'p hy hit ne a-syllau of rainum cynne ofen heoiia 
 baeg, ac ic pille^ hyria baeg Jiast hit gange on fa nihstan 
 hanb me, butan hyria hpylc bearni hrebbe, J^onne is me 
 leofast Jjaet hit gange on |jaet striyneb" on )?a pseapneb 
 healfe )?a hpile ]>e senig J7ses pyribe sy. nnn ylbiia f'asSeii'' 
 lisefSe ge-cpeben hys laub on jja sperie-healfe naej- on jja 
 s[)ml-healfe, j^onne, gif ic ge-sealbe senigrie piflianba f he 
 ge-strinbe J^onne fori-gylban mine magas, ■;) gif hy hit he 
 j?aLi libenbau habban pillan, gif hit elles sy gange hit ofen 
 hyria baeg spa spa pe aeri ge-qjebeii haefbon, foii|7on ic 
 cpeS* Jiaet hi hit gylban, fori-jjon hy foS to mmum J;e ic 
 syllan mot spa pif-hanba spa paepneb-hanba spa paepueb 
 hanba [sic) spa^-eii ic pille. ■;) ic bibbe on gobes naman "] 
 on his lialigria f munria' maga nan ne yrife-peariba^" ne 
 ge-spence nan naenig cyriehf jjaria Jje ic forie-gealb, •j we 
 pestseaxena pitau to rihte ge-riehton Jjast ic hi mot laetan 
 spa frieo spa )7eope spa'Seri ic pille, ac ic fori gobes lufan ^ 
 fori minria saple J)eaiife pille ^ hy syn heoria fneolses 
 pyri^e, ^ hyria eyries, "3 ic on gones lifienbes naman beobe 
 Jfat hy nan man ne briocie ne mib feos manunge ne mib 
 naenjum Jjingum f hy ne motan ceosan spylcne manu 
 spylce hy piUan, ^ ic pille ]7«t man agife Jjam hipum aet 
 bomria-hamme hyria lanb-bec hyria lanb-bec {sic), ^ 
 hyria frieols spylce hanb to ceosenne spylce him leofast 
 sy, fori me, ■] for aelflebe, -j fori pa. fnynb ]>e heo forie 
 jjingobe ■] ic forie J>mgie. ^ sec man eac on cpicum ceape 
 ymbe minrie saple J?earife, spa hit beon maege, -} spa hit 
 eac ge-nysne sy "] spa ge me fori-gyfan pillan. 
 
 ' Forstent. ^ ForSam. ' Trfe-gewrite. " Fyi-mest, 
 
 ' " Ofer " needs here to be supplied, as in Manniag. 
 Strynel. ' Yl'ora fae'ser. » FojiSoii ic cweSc. " Miajia. 
 '" Trfewearda. 
 
ALFRED'S WILL, IN ENGLISH. 173 
 
 "ExPLANATio Tbstamenti Alpredi Regis, de lingua 
 Saxonica in Anglicam. 
 
 " I Alfred westsaxene kyng wytli goddys jyft, and by (3). in 
 thy wyttenesse I seye no we the intention of ray last wylle ''"^"°'' 
 to be fulfyllyd aftyr my.day. Fyrst I grawnte to Edward 
 my yldiste sone the londes at stratnet in triconschyre and 
 hortyngtuue and all the frelond that leof hath hold, and 
 that lend at carumtune and at kylfantune, and at burnham 
 and at wedmore, and I conferme to the keper^ at Ceodre 
 tha he hyt have aftyr the puyngtyng that we erst seyde 
 hafe w* that land at kyutune and that tlier to longyth, 
 and I to hym grawnte the londis at kantintune and at 
 bedewynde and at pefesy and at hysseburn and at suttune 
 and at leodridan and at aultune and alle the frelond that 
 I in kent have, and at nether hysseburn and at kyseldene. 
 I 3yve my chef servant at wynchester after the syne- 
 ment that hyt my fadyr er beqweythyd and myn other fee 
 that I to egulfe gafe un to at certeyn tyme at the nether 
 hysseborne. And that my 5ongyr sone have that lond 
 at Ederiugtune and that at the dene, and that at Mene 
 and at Ambresbury and at deone and at sturemynster 
 and at 3eule and at kruerne and at whytchyrche and at 
 axamuntham and at branescumbe and at kolumtune and 
 at twyfyrd and at Myllenburn, and at Exanmynster and 
 at satheswyrthe and at lyntune and the lond that there to 
 longyth the whyche be ail that I undyr hevyn have uttake 
 Trikonschyre. ^And to my ilderyst dowthter I grawnt 
 the twune of welewe, and to the mydmest dowther I 
 
 ' Mr. Manning translates this clause thus : — "And I am a petitioner to 
 tlie families at Oeodi-e ttat tiey him would chuse on the condition that 
 we formerly expressed had," &c. ; and he adds this note : " These hipaf 
 'femilies,' at Chedder, were the oeorls who occupied the tenemental 
 lands there. They were so far analogous to those who, in the succeed- 
 ing feudal times, were called ' privileged villains,' as that they could not 
 be compelled to hold their lands against their own consent. Hence it 
 was that Alfred had stipulated with them, on the ground of a requisition 
 on his part, to chuse Edward his Son to be their landlord; i. e., to con- 
 tinue his tenants after he himself should be dead and gone." 
 
174 ALFRED'S WILL, IN ENGLISH. 
 
 graunte the twune of klere and of kendevere, and to my 
 ^ongyst dowthtyr I graunte the twune of welyg and of 
 Ascktune and of schyppenam. TJAnd to Athelme my 
 brotherys sone I grawnt the twune of Eleyngburn and 
 of kumptune and of krundele and of bedyngum and of 
 bedyngham and of burnham and of thunresfeld an of 
 Aschengum. ^And to athelwold my brotherys sone the 
 twune of godelmynge and of gylford and of stemugum. 
 ^And to osferthe my cosyn I graunte the twune of bec- 
 canle and of Rytherhamfeld and of dyccanlyngum and of 
 suttune and of luUyngarynster and of Angemeryngum and 
 of Pelthham and the lond that there to longyth. ^And 
 to Alswythe the twne of lamburne and of wantyngh and 
 of Ethandune. ^And to my twey sonys I beqweyth a 
 thwsund pund Eythyr fyf hundryd pund. ^And to myn 
 ilderyst dow^ter and to the myddelyst and to the ^ongyst 
 and to Alswythe to hem fowr fowrhundyrd pund everyche 
 of hem an hunderyd pund. ^And to everych of my 
 gentylmen an hunderyd mark. ^And to Ethelme and 
 Athelwolde and Osferthe also everyche of hem an hunderyd 
 mark. ^And to Ethered my gentylman I 5yve a swerd 
 and twenti hunderyd mark. ^And to that man that 
 folwyth me wyt wham at Estyrtyd I covenaunt made 
 I take too hunderyd pund that man to 3y ve and that man 
 to partye be twyxt all tho ther hym to be byryyd 
 lykyth after the wyse that I now to hym dele. ^And to 
 the Erchebyschop I ^yve an hunderyd mark and Esne 
 byschop and werferthe byschop and to hym of schyrburn 
 everyche of hem as myche for to departye and to dele for 
 me and for my fadyr and for that thyng that he {sic for ' I ') 
 before asynyd. And I asyne too hunderyd pund to fyfty 
 masse prestys twrw all my -Reem. And fifti schilyngys 
 to every of godys servauntys, and fyfty schyjyng to dele 
 amonge the powr peple and fyfty to the chyrche wher 
 that I am byryyd. ^And I not nat trewely weyther ther 
 ys more than these 3yftys ne I trow that there ys no 
 more as I wene. Yf yt more be^ be hyt all demenyd as I 
 to 5yve have seyd. ^And I wyll that my gentylmen and 
 my 3ymen and al tho that wyth hem beth that they thys 
 
ALFRED'S WILL, IN ENGLISH. 175 
 
 thus departye ne on none other wyse than I have wryte 
 by fore to fore my heyr to wham I have most jyve and 
 most my3t. And monymen ban at thys tyme ther to 
 wryte and to fore all thys wyttenesse thes yyftes Vere 
 i wryte than have I now for chargyd the pryncys of my 
 Reeme that T aske my3t of hem that fundyu byth that 
 hyt let not for that that hyt ys my wyll that hyt nw be 
 thus thorw goddys strenkth. And I wyl that tho men 
 the whyche these londys havyn kepe the word that of 
 my faderys herytage stondyth i wryte of myche as they 
 strengyst mowe. And I wyll yf I eny man have gyfe or 
 eny lenyd have that they to my cosynis or to here hyt 
 seue. And I wyll that tho men that I my freland have 
 beqwethyd that they ^yve hyt nat from my kynne overe 
 here day. And I wyll And I wyll {sic) that aftyr here 
 day to the next bond of me, wythowte hem that chyldryn 
 have, than ys me levyst that hyt go to the mawl chyld 
 liy gete as long whyle as eny on erthe be. Myn yldyr 
 fadyr hys lond on the same wyse be qweythyd to the 
 mawlys. An than yf I take hyt .on eny degre to wom- 
 mennys bond I wyll that aftyr here day be to ^elde hyt 
 to my mawlys kyn the whyche corayn of here. And yf 
 they by here lyf lyvynge hyt will have ; and yf hyt ell 
 be, than go hyt ovyr here day so as we here byfore liave 
 be qweythyd. Perthermore I sey that they hyt jelde for 
 the lyvelode of my kyn to whem T jeve most whether 
 they ben mayde chyldryn or sonys as me best lykyth 
 and I bydde on goddys name and on all halewene that 
 none of my kyn here aftyrward labor not a^enst eny of 
 ther kynrede that I have 5yve and be qweythyd to, here 
 byfore. And w* me all the worthynesse of west saxone 
 to ryjt consentyn that I most leve hem as fre as thowt 
 wheythyr that I wyll, and I for goddys love and for my 
 sowie helthe wylle that they in possessyon of here fredom 
 and alle here kyred, and I on goddys holy name comawnde 
 that them no man wythsey nother w* strenthe nother 
 w' eny thyng that they ne mote sesyn what man wham 
 they wylle in here londys. ^And I wyll than {sic) men 
 seve to the hows at domrahamme here land bok and here 
 
176 ALFRED'S WILL, IN ENGLISH. 
 
 fredomys hem to seosyji what houd hem levyst is, for me 
 und for Elflede aad for here frendys that he ys bowiid to 
 and that I am bounde to and for the nedy that alyve be 
 ' to kepe hyt that yt may be helthe for my sowlej and 
 that hyt be to me in for^yvenesse and so I desyre me to 
 be for jeve." 
 
BIBLIOGEAPHICAL PUELICATIONS 
 
 01" 
 
 MESSES. TEUBNER & CO. 
 
 60, PATEENOSTER EOW, LONDON. 
 
IMPORTANT TO 
 
 Iitatiai0, ®altete« n! f jA, & f nntelte. 
 
 In Two Volumes, 8vo., pp. 1950 of letter-press, Seven Chromo- Lithographic Plates 
 of Binding-Specimens, Sixteen fac-simile Plates of Papyri and Early Types, 
 numerous Woodcuts, etc. Price £2 : 8s. ; Large Paper, £4 : 4s. 
 
 MEMOIES OF LIBRARIES: 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 By EDWARD EDWARDS. 
 
 ©able of ©ontents. 
 
 PART I.— HISTORY OF LIBRARIES. 
 
 (IN FIVE BOOKS.) 
 
 Book L— The Libraries of the Ancients. 
 Chap. 1. Introductory. 
 „ 2. General View of the Libraries of 
 
 the Ancients. 
 „ 3. Passages from Greek Authors re- 
 lating to Ancient Libraries. 
 J, 4. Passages from Latin Authors re- 
 lating to Ancient Libraries. 
 „ 5. Destruction and Dispersion of 
 Ancient Libraries. 
 
 Book II.— The Libraries of the Middle 
 Ages. 
 
 Chap. 1. Foundation and Growtli of Monas- 
 teries and of thi-ir Libraries. 
 
 „ 2. The Libraries of the English Bene- 
 dictines. 
 
 „ Appendix to Chap. 2. — Catalogue 
 
 of the Library of Christchurcli 
 Monastery, Canterbury. Now 
 jvrst published from the Cotton 
 MS. Galba E. iv. 
 
 „ 3. The Librai-ies - of the German, 
 Flemish, and Swiss Benedictines. 
 
 Chap. 4. The Libraries of the Italian and 
 
 Frencli Benedictines. 
 „ 5. The Libraries of the Mendicant 
 
 Orders. 
 „ 6. The Economy of the Monastic 
 
 Libraries. 
 „ 7. The Decline of, Learning in the 
 
 English Monasteries. 
 „ 8. The Dissolution of the English 
 
 Monasteries, and Dispersion of 
 
 their Libraries. 
 „ 9. Royal, Noble, and Plebeian Col- 
 lectors in the Middle Ages. 
 
 Book III.— TheModern Libraries of Great 
 
 Britain and Ireland. 
 Chap. 1. The Formation and Growth of 
 the several Collections which 
 eventually became the Library 
 of the British Museum: — 
 § i. The Old Collection of the 
 
 English Kings. 
 § ii. The Cottonian Library, 
 b iii. The Harleian Library. 
 I iv. The Courten and Shane Col- 
 lections. 
 
4 Publications of Messrs. Truhner 8f Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 
 
 EDWAEDS'S MEMOIRS OF LIBRARIES— corf»merf. 
 
 Chap. 2 to 5. History and Contents of the 
 British Museum. 
 „ 6. The Origin and Growth of .the 
 Bodleian Library. 
 § i. The Founder: his Enterprise 
 
 cmd his Helpers. 
 § ii. Eistory of the Bodleian, from 
 the time ofSelden. 
 
 „ 7. The State and Prospects of the 
 Bodleian Library. 
 § i. Notices of the more conspicuous 
 
 Bodleian Treasures. 
 § ii. The Oxford University Com- 
 mission of 1854. 
 Appendix to Chap. 7 : — 
 
 (l.)'Note on the Acquisition of 
 
 the Selden Library. 
 ("2.) Heaine's Account of his 
 Dismissal from the Under Li- 
 brarianship. 
 The Minor University Libraries 
 and the CoUegiate Libraries of 
 Oxford. 
 The Public Library of the Uni- 
 versity of Cambridge. 
 The Minor Libraries of Cambridge. 
 The Public Library of Humphrey 
 
 Chetham at Manchester : — 
 § i. Life of a Manchester Mer- 
 chant during the Civil Wars. 
 § ii. The Merchants FoimdaHons 
 
 under Trusteeship. 
 § iii. Character, Contents, and De- 
 fects of the Chetham Li- 
 brary. 
 § iv. The Chetham Manuscripts. 
 
 12. The Cathedral Libraries of England. 
 
 13. The Arohiepisoopal Library at 
 Lambeth Palace. 
 
 14. The Libraries of the English Inns 
 of Court. 
 
 15. The Older Libraries of English 
 Towns, and their Management 
 by Municipal Corporations. 
 
 16. The Parochial and Quasi-Parochial 
 Libraries of England. 
 
 8. 
 
 10. 
 11. 
 
 Chap. 17. The History of the Pubjic Libra- 
 ries Acts of 1850 and 1855. 
 
 „ 18. The Working of the Public Librae 
 ries Acts of 1850 and 1855. 
 
 „ 19. The Law Libraries of Edinburgh. 
 
 „ 20. The University, Town, and Paro- 
 chial Libraries of Scotland. 
 
 „ 21. The Library of Trinity College, 
 Dublin, and the other chief Li- 
 braries of Ireland. 
 
 „ 22. The Minor Libraries of London. 
 
 „ 23. British Private Libraries which 
 have been dispersed. 
 
 „ 24. Notices of some existing British 
 Private Libraries. 
 
 Book IV.— The Libraries of the United 
 States of America. 
 
 Chap. 
 
 The Collegiate Libraries. 
 The Proprietary Libraries. 
 The Town Libraries. 
 The State ^d Congressional Li- 
 braries. 
 The Smithsonian Institution. 
 Public School and District Libra- 
 
 Book v.— The Modern Libraries of Con- 
 tinental Europe. 
 
 Chap. 1. The Imperial Library of France. 
 
 „ 2. The Minor Libraries at Paris. 
 
 „ 3. The Provincial Libraries of France. 
 
 „ 4. The Libraries of Italy. 
 
 „ 5. The Royal and National Libraries 
 of the German States. 
 
 „ 6. German University Libraries. 
 
 „ 7. German Town Libraries. 
 
 „ 8. The Libraries of Belgium, Holland, 
 and Switzerland. 
 
 „ 9. The Libraries of Sweden, Den- 
 marli, and j^orway. 
 
 „ 10. The Libraries of Poland, Hungary, 
 Russia,' and Turkey. 
 
 „ 11. The Libraries of Spain and Por- 
 tugal. 
 
 „ 12. Past, Present, and Future. 
 
 PAKT II.— ECONOMY OF LIBEARIES. 
 
 (IN FOUR BOOKS.) 
 
 Book I.— Book-Collecting. 
 
 Chap. 1. Rudimentsof Book-Collecting, with 
 more especial reference to Public 
 Libraries. 
 
 „ 2. Copy-Tax. 
 
 „ 3. Gifts. 
 
 „ 4. Public Historiography and Public 
 Printing. 
 
 Chap. 5. International Exchanges. 
 „ 6. Purchases : — 
 
 § i. Choice of Authors and of 
 
 Editions. 
 § ii. Inferences that may he drawn 
 from Library Statistics in 
 the Selection of Books for 
 Pwchase. 
 
Publicafions of Messrs. Truhner ^ Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 5 
 
 EDWARDS'S MEMOIRS OF LIBRARIES-corfffl«erf. 
 
 Chap. 6. § iii. Approximative Estimates of 
 tlie Cost of Libraries, 
 
 § iv. Of some Details in BookhuyiTig. 
 
 % y. Of Fluctuations in the Prices 
 of Boohs ^ and of the causes 
 and d^rees of Rarity. 
 
 § vi. Of the Formation of Special 
 Collections of Pamphlets. 
 
 Book IL— Buildings. 
 
 Chap. 1. Libraries built. 
 „ 2. Libraries projected. 
 „ 3. General View of the Structural 
 requirements of a Public Library. 
 „ 4. Lighting, Heating, and Furnishing. 
 
 Book IIL— Classification and Catalogues. 
 Chap. 1. Of Catalogues generally. 
 
 Chap. 2. Sui-vey of the principal Systems 
 which have been proposed for 
 the Classification of Human 
 Knowledge generally or of Li- 
 ' braries in particalar. 
 „ 3. Examples and Details. 
 „ 4. Indexes. 
 
 „ 5. Local Arrangement and its Appli- 
 ances. 
 
 Book IV.— Internal Organization and 
 Public Service. 
 Chap. 1. Librarianship 
 
 „ 2. The Staff and Finance. ' 
 „ 3. Bookbinding. 
 „ 4. Regulation of Public Access. 
 „ 5. Reading-Room Service and Appli- 
 ances. 
 „ 6, Management of Lending Libraries. 
 „ 7. Recapitulatory. 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 " Of the indnstry bestowed upon this ex- 
 tensive compilation, and of the marvellous 
 condensation of fact which it supplies, it 
 is difficult to speak in terms of proper com- 
 mendation; even to the most accomplished 
 bibliographer it cannot fail to be of great 
 service, but how much more to the tyro or 
 ordinary bibliographer." — Brownson's Eeview. 
 
 " There is more variety, interest, and even 
 life, in the Memoirs of Libraries, than might 
 be expected. Mr. Edwards has a more com- 
 prehensive mind and a more sensible judg- 
 ment than always characterise the tribe of 
 librarii. His style has not an undue spirit 
 of rhetoric, which throws off anything ap- 
 proaching to the manner of Dryasdust." — 
 Spectator. 
 
 "Both as a history of libraries and a 
 manual of their economy, this work is va^ 
 luable: delightful to the scholar in the first 
 respect; in the second, indispensable to the 
 librarian." — Critic. 
 
 "We now take leave of these volumes, 
 feeling that we have given a very imperfect 
 indication of their contents, and strongly re- 
 commend them to the consideration of all 
 persons connected with or interested in libra- 
 ries, public or private, because they contain 
 a vast quantity of information never before 
 collected, and much that would be sought 
 for in vain elsewhere." — Bookseller. 
 
 " Mr. Edwards's style is pleasant, and free 
 from the slang and pedantry of many more 
 costly productions in the field of bibliogra- 
 phy. H" we feel occasionally inclined to differ 
 from the author's views and deductions, we 
 do so at all times with some deference, be- 
 cause throughout the work it is evident that 
 
 he has been earnest to furnish the fullest and 
 most satisfactory information which it was in 
 his power to do." — Leader. 
 
 " It is now generally conceded that the 
 civilization of a people may be judged rather 
 by the number and value of its private libra- 
 ries, than by the extent and magnificence of 
 those provided by the Sovereign. Such be- 
 ing the case, it is incumbent upon us to ex- 
 amine our position in this particular, by com- 
 parison with other nations. This we are now 
 enabled to do, for the first time, by the aid 
 afforded in Mr. Ed'wards's ' Memoirs of Libra- 
 ries,' which exhibits a mass of evidence such 
 as only the greatest devotion to the subject, 
 perseveringly continued through many years, 
 could have accumulated. So completely is 
 the subject exhausted, that it would be vain 
 and useless for the inquirer to push his re- 
 searches further in order to obtain a, clear 
 view of the libraries of the past and present; 
 for what of interest or value he finds not in 
 these volumes he will scarcely hope to obtain 
 elsewhere." — Gentleman's Magazine. 
 
 " The various schemes propounded for the 
 classification of knowledge — the extent to 
 which libraries may safely be made available 
 for public use — their internal economy, and 
 the qualifications essential for their manage- 
 ment these are subjects which it would have 
 
 afforded us both pleasure and profit to have 
 discussed with Mr. Edwards. But it is time 
 to take leave of him with the respect due to 
 a writer whom some diffuseness, occasional 
 want of discrimination, and a few doubtful 
 views, will not debar from a cordial reception 
 wherever industry is appreciated or erudition 
 recognised." — Press. 
 
6 Publications of Messrs. Truhner §• Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 
 
 IMPORTANT WORK ON ENGLISH AND AMERICAN 
 LITERARY HISTORY. 
 
 AlTD BEITISH AND AMEEICAN AUTHORS, 
 
 LIVING AND DECEASED, FROM THE EARLIEST ACCOUNTS TO THE 
 MIDDLE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Contaming 31,000 Biographies and Literary Notices. With an Index of Subject-Matter. 
 
 By S. AUSTIN ALLIBONE. 
 
 The Second Volume (letter K to Z, likewise exceeding 1000 pp.), which is in a 
 very forward state (being stereotyped as far as the letter S), will complete the work, 
 and be published, with a most elaborate Index of Subject-Matter, in the Autumn of 
 1859, on the same terms as the first Volume. 
 
 The above important work was originally announced to he published in 1857, in 
 one Volume, imperial 8vo., of about 1500 pages, and the first appeal to the public 
 on its behalf was signally successful. The delay in the publication seems to have 
 caused a feeling of disappointment among the patrons of the work, but it is bopeS 
 that this feeling will give way to one of lively satisfaction when the first half of it is 
 examined. The, high expectations raised by the mere announcement made it incum- 
 bent upon the Author and Publishers to spare no expense or trouble to bring the 
 work to the greatest state of perfection ; and although stereotyped to the letter H at 
 the time it was first announced, that portion has been entirely revised, partly re- 
 written,, and so much new matter introduced, that the subscribers wiU now receive 
 above 2000 pages, at no increase of price. 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE TITLE. 
 
 The characteristics of the work, whjch have not been united in any previous under- , 
 taking of the kind, are as follow : — , 
 
 "1. It is a Biographical Dictionary of English and American Authors, comprising 
 both the living and the dead; furnishing those incidents respecting the persons who 
 have made themselves famous in the Republic of Letters, which every reader desires 
 to know, and few know where to find. 
 
 " 2. It is a Bibliographical Manual, giving information as to the best editions of 
 authors, the circumstances attending their publication, the reception which they met 
 with from the public, the influence they have exercised on the public mind, and many 
 other interesting particulars, not one of which the true lover of books and student of 
 letters would ' willingly let die.' 
 
 " As a Bibliographical Manual, the Index, which forms the second portion of the 
 volume, will prove no small addition to its value. In this Index the subjects of 
 human knowledge are divided into forty distinct classes, and an alphabet is allotted 
 to each. By this means the reader is enabled to see at a glance who are the- 
 principal writers on all subjects, from Agriculture, Class 1, to Voyages, Class 40. 
 
Publications of Messrs. Truhner 8f Co., 60, Paternoster Row, 7 
 
 ALLIBONE'S DICTIONARY— comimMeA 
 
 "It is thought that this Index will contain between 40,000 and 50,000 names, yet 
 no author is mentioned whose works are not noticedin the first part of the Dictionary. 
 
 " It is a Critical as well as a Biographical and Bibliographical Dictionary. Here 
 the author has a great advantage over his predecessors, without a single exception. 
 Makers of books approaching to the character of this are in the habit of giving their 
 own opinions, or opinions adopted as their own, which must be based upon very par- 
 tial knowledge, and one, therefore, of little value ; or are apt to be tinctured with 
 prejudice and party bias, and are therefore entitled to little confidence. But Mr. 
 Allibone contents himself with adducing the opinions upon various writers, as they 
 come under his notice, of critics of great and extended reputation, who have earned 
 a claim to be heard with respect, if not in all cases with entire acquiescence. Tiese 
 invaluable specimens of criticism are quoted verbatim, and distinguished by a smaller 
 type, which adds greatly to the beauty of the work." 
 
 To the above Summary of the Work the Publishers beg leave to append the follow- 
 ing remarks : — 
 
 It contains, it is believed, the names of every Author in English Literature and 
 Science, living and dead, that anybody would think of looking for. Their dates are 
 given, and the dates of their several publications. Critical notices by writers of 
 authority are always added, and with such fairness and copiousness as challenge a 
 constant surprise, and aflpord, besides, a most instructive and entertaining exhibition 
 of the judgments of capable men upon the qualities and characters of the celebrities of 
 hterature. The compiler of these authoritative criticisms, however, does not avoid 
 his own responsibilities, but frankly and ably sets down his own opinions, wherever 
 any interest of moral truth or literary justice is involved. 
 
 The second division of the work will contain " a copious index of subjects," arranged 
 alphabetically, under such heads as Agriculture, Antiquities, Chemistry, Divinity, 
 Drama, Law, Political Economy, Biography, etc. etc. ; so that the inquirer can find 
 at a glance all the authors of any note under the title of the subject upon which he 
 has written. This division, besides being a most interesting presentment of author- 
 ship classified— a table of the sciences and of their cultivators— is an invaluable index 
 to the biographies and literary notices, for the use of students in every profession, 
 and of every specific pursuit. Together, the two divisions will be to study what the 
 alphabet of the ledger and the account of stock on hand are to the merchant. 
 Booksellers, school committees, and librarians, will perceive their practical interest m 
 it, as much as merchants, farmers, lawyers, doctors, clergymen, and mechanics, 
 in their several ways require it ; and authors, too-for the living labourers m l.terature 
 are all upon the record— will find themselves, each in his appropriate place in this 
 great gathering of celebrities. In a word, the book is constructed upon a plan and 
 the plan executed with such success, that it will serve not only as a directory, but as 
 a guide to study, a catalogue, invoice, and manual to the trade m hterature. 
 
 MODE AND TEEMS OF PUBLICATION.' 
 Tm= WoRK-Volume I comprising the letters A to J, pp. 1005, is issued Tte second 
 "^.""Zl^e, cliTslng'letUs K t'o Z, already stereotyped as ^-^^^^^.^^^ 'dl be pub- 
 lished, with the Index of Subject-matter, m Autumn, 1859, and exceed 1000 pages. 
 FOEM ATO SiyLE-2 Volumes, imperial 8vo containing above 2000 pages, elegantly and 
 closely printed in double column, on the finest paper. 
 
 %* A specimen page will be forv,arded on application to the PublzsUrs. 
 
8 Publications of Messrs. Truhner <^ Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 
 
 ALLIBONE'S DICTIONARY— coraSJmed. 
 
 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 
 
 " Most truly is Mr. Allibone's Dictionary 
 a great work, which cannot fail of being ex- 
 tensively useful, from the comprehensiveness 
 of its plan, and also for the ability, persever- 
 ing industry, patience of research, impartiality 
 and accuracy, with which it is executed. The 
 introduction of brief oritibal testimonies to the 
 character and value of the works of eminent 
 authors is a happy thought, amd cannot fail to 
 be of great service to fnture bibliographers 
 and librarians iu the ' selection and purchase 
 of books.' 
 
 " Mr.' Allibone's list of authorities con- 
 sulted includes (I believe) every work of any 
 value. My own knowledge of American au- 
 thors has hitherto been derived chiefly from 
 the best edition of ' Allen's American Biogi'a- 
 phy,' and from Mr. Triibner's concise but 
 truly valuable ' Guide to American Literature.' 
 But henceforth Mr. AUibone's researches 
 ■will leave nothing to be desired."— ije». 
 Thomas Ha/rtwell Home^ in a Letter to the 
 
 " Mr. Allibone, an American gentleman of 
 ■wide reading, is engaged on a ''. Critical Dic- 
 tionary of English Literature,' a work very 
 seriously needed. Lowndes is very imperfect. 
 "Watt is out of date, is also very imperfect, 
 and is out of print. Mr. Allibone is said, on 
 high American authority, to be well prepared 
 for his task. His method, of which we can 
 judge for ourselves, is novel : his plan being 
 to supply the facts about his authors him- 
 self, and to quote opinions about them from 
 distinguished critical contemporaries ajid suc- 
 cessors. For example, und6r the title of 
 ' Opinions on Burke,' there are forty brief ex- 
 cerpts from Samuel Johnson, Arthur Murphy, 
 Lord Jeffrey, Professor Smyth, Dugald Stew- 
 art, James Prior, the Earl of Chatham, King 
 George III., Charles James Fox, John Roche, 
 M. Cazales,WilliamWyndham, Gerard Hamil- 
 ton, Mr. Carweo, Rev. Thomas Campbell, Dr. 
 French Laurence, Edward Gibbon, Richard 
 Cumberland, William Wilberforoe, Thomas 
 James Mathias, Lord Thnrlow, Rev. Dr. Sa- 
 muel Parr, Henry Grattan, Oliver Goldsmith, 
 Mr. Richards, the Duke de Levis, Warren 
 Hastings, R. B. Sheridan, F. Schlegel, Robert 
 Hall, George Crabbe, Samuel Warren, T. B. 
 Maoaulay, Rev. Dr. C. A. Goodrich, Mr. 
 Shaokleton, Su: James Mackintosh, Sir Robert 
 Peel, Lord John Russell, Lord Erskine, and 
 Lord Brougham. This gives an idea, of the 
 work. By such a pi an the reader is presented 
 with a History of Opinion on great writers, 
 as well as a History of their Works. If Mr. 
 AUibone's ' Dictionary' proves to be as able 
 in execution as it is felioitons in conception, 
 
 it will be welcome to many libraries in Eng- 
 land as well as in America." — Athemteum, 
 Jan. 5th, 1856. 
 
 " That which the entire bookselling trade 
 of London cotfld not effect, a Philadelphian 
 gentleman has been quietly to some extent 
 executing in distant America. Mr. S. Austin 
 Allibone, by- great and conscientious labour, 
 extending over a long period of time, has com- 
 pleted the compilation of ' A Critidal Diction- 
 ary of English Literature, and British and 
 American Authors, Living and Deceased, from 
 the Earliest Accounts to the Middle of the 
 Nineteenth Century." Some sheets of this 
 work having been shown to us, we are enabled 
 to give some account of its nature and plan. 
 In the first place, it will contain upwards of 
 thirty thousand names — ai larger number than 
 has ever been collected before in any similar 
 work. Watt's ' Bibliotheca' contains rather 
 less than 23,000 names, and Chalmers's has 
 only 9000. In the next place, each name has 
 a short biographical notice appended; and in 
 many cases critical observations, mostly ex- 
 tracted from well-known and respectable 
 sources, are appended to the list of works. 
 One volume of 1500 closely but c-learl;j 
 printed pages will be the full extent of tiie 
 work, which will thus be within the reach of 
 those whose means do not permit them to 
 purchase large and expensive works. It would 
 be too much to .expect perfection in such a, 
 task, executed by a single hand; but, from 
 ■what we have seeil, we have no hesitation in 
 predicting that Mr. Allibone's Dictionary ■wiU 
 be a most valuable work." — Critic, December, 
 1855. 
 
 "Mr. Allibone's work is warmly com- 
 mended by Irving, Prescott, Bryant, Everett, 
 Bancroft, Sparks, and other distinguished 
 scholars and men of letters in America. The 
 only book of the kind now in use is ' \y^att's 
 Bibliotheca Britannica;' supplemented by the 
 London Catalogues. Watt is in four bulky 
 and expensive quartos, and is now nearly 30 
 years old. That it has nothing about Ame- 
 rican books is a sufficient motive for another 
 work being required in the States; but in 
 England, also, a book of bibliographical re- 
 ference, with critical and biographical notices, 
 is a desideratum, and we are prepared to re- 
 ceive Mr. Allibone's Dictionary with favour." 
 —lAterary Gcaette. 
 
 " We have bad an opportunity of inspect- 
 ing that portion of Mr. AUibone's Biblio- 
 graphical Dictionary which has already been 
 printed, and are glad to hear that 1;he entire 
 work -wjll be ready for issue in a veiy short 
 time. We understand that ai'rangements have 
 
Publications of Messrs, Trubner 8f Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 9 
 
 ALLIBONE'S DICTIONARY— corfmjcd. 
 
 been made by Mr. Trubner to publish it in 
 America and in England on the same day." — 
 Critic, Feb. Ibth, 1856. 
 
 " It has been reserved for an American gen- 
 tleman to produce the first complete Diction- 
 ary of the literature and literary men of Eng- 
 land and America, which has yet appeared in 
 either country. The work will contain about 
 31,000 biographies and literary notices, and 
 an examination of the first 464 pages, com- 
 pleting the letters A, B, and C, has convinced 
 us that the author has brought to his task 
 all the requisites of the EncyclopEedist— the 
 most patient industry and painstaking love of 
 detail and accuracy. The Rev. T. Hartwell 
 Home, than whom we know no greater au- 
 thority upon bibliographical matters, and to 
 
 whom the work was submitted asfar as printed, 
 passes the following high eulogium upon it: — 
 ' Most truly is Mr. Allibone's Dictionary a 
 great work, which cannot fail of being exten- 
 sively useful, from the comprehensiveness of 
 its plan, and also for the ability, persevering 
 industry, patience of research, impartiality, 
 and accuracy, with which it is executed,' etc. 
 The work will be published by subscription, 
 and not to be accessible to the book trade for 
 a whole year after publication, and then only 
 at an increased price. Mr. Triibner, the 
 American bookseller, of Paternoster-row, has 
 succeeded in effecting an arrangement by 
 which he will issue subscribers' copies in this 
 country simultaneously with the American 
 publishers." — Bent's Lit, Advertiser, Feh.lS56. 
 
 Copy of Letter from Cardinal Wiseman, to S. Austin AlUVbne, Esq. 
 
 "London, Feb. 18,1859. 
 " Dear Sir, — I thank you very sincerely for the first volume of your Dictionary of 
 Authors. I have tested its value in two different ways: first, by looking at the 
 accounts of comparatively unknown or obscure authors, hardly to be found in 
 ordinary biographical works, and then by glancing at the history of celebrated ones, 
 whose lives have occupied volumes. Your work stands both tests admirably. I 
 have found more about the first class of writers than J have ever seen elsewhere, and 
 than I could have anticipated in so comprehensive a work; wliile the interesting 
 points in the literary lives of those belonging to the second, are brought out in 
 sufficient detail and treated with sufficient accuracy to render further reference or 
 inquiry unnecessary. I congratulate you on the success of your herculean under- 
 taking, and am „ . , „ „ 
 
 " Yours very faithfully, 
 
 (signed) " N. Card. Wiseman.'' 
 
 From Lord Macaulay. 
 
 " Holly Lodge, Kensington, April 9, 1859. 
 
 « Sir -Since I wrote to you last (Jan. 29, 1859), I have had frequent occasion to 
 
 consult your Dictionary, and I have scarcely ever failed to find what I sought. I 
 
 have no hesitation in saying that it is far superior to any other work of the kmd in 
 
 our language, I heartily wish you success proportioned to the labour and cost of 
 
 ^° "I have the honour to be, Sir, 
 
 " Your faithful servant, 
 
 „ . ,• «ivi. T7„„ fsiffned) "Macaulay. 
 
 " S. Austin Allibone, Lsq., ^"'S J 
 
 &c. &c. &c." 
 
10 Publications of Messrs. Trubner ^ Co., 60, Paternoster Mow. 
 
 In one Volume 8vo. of 750 pages, half-bound, price 18s. 
 
 TEUBNEE'S BIBLIOGEAPHICAL GUIDE 
 TO AIEEICAN LITEEATUEE: 
 
 A Classed List of Books published in the United States of America, 
 From 1817 to 1857. 
 
 Compiled and Edited by NICOLAS TEUBNEE. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 FB£7ACE. 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 BlBLIOaSAPHIOAl PKOLEGOMElfA. 
 
 BiWiographioal Works on Books relating to 
 
 America. 
 Books printed in America. 
 
 1. Periodical Publications. 
 
 2. Catalogues and Handbooks for the use 
 
 of Buyers and Sellers. 
 
 3. Works devoted to special branches of 
 
 Literature. 
 
 contkibtjtions towakds a histokt op 
 AmekioaIs Literatuke. 
 
 Chap. I. First Colonial Period. 
 
 „ II. Second Colonial Period. 
 
 „ III. First American Period. 
 
 „ IV. Second American Period. , 
 
 „ V. Second American Period — con- 
 tinued. 
 
 „ VI. Second American Period — con- 
 cluded. 
 VII. Foreign Writers in America. 
 
 "„ VIII. Education. 
 
 „ IX. Introduction and Progress of 
 Printing. 
 
 „ X. Remuneration of Authors. 
 
 „ XI. The Book Trade and its Extent. 
 
 „ XII. Newspapers and Periodicals. 
 
 „ XIll. Printing Presses. 
 
 „ XIV. Typography — Type Foundries, 
 Paper, Binding, etc. 
 
 „ XV. General Remarks. 
 
 Public Libeakies of the United States. 
 
 Chap. I. Of Collegiate Libraries. 
 
 „ 11. Of Proprietary and Subscription 
 Libraries. 
 
 „ m. Of Congressional and State Li- 
 braries. 
 
 „ IV. Of Town Libraries. 
 
 „ V. Of the Smithsonian Institution. 
 
 „ VI. Of Public School and District 
 Libraries. 
 
 „ VII. General Summary of the Public 
 Libraries of the United States. 
 
 CLASSES LIST Or BOOKS. 
 
 I. Bibliography. 
 II. Collections. 
 
 III. Theology. 
 
 IV. Jurisprudence. 
 
 V. Medicine and Surgery. 
 VI. Natural History. 
 
 1. General — Microscopy. 
 
 2. Natural History of Man 
 
 (Ethnology). 
 
 3. Mammals, Birds, Reptiles, 
 
 Fishes, MoUusca, Insects, 
 Crabs, Worms, etc. 
 
 4. Botany. > 
 
 5. Geology, Mineralogy, Palae- 
 
 ontology. 
 VII. Chemistry and Pharmacy. 
 VIII. Natural Philosophy. 
 IX. Mathemathios and Astronomy. 
 X. Philosophy. 
 
Publications of Messrs. Trubner <^ Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 11 
 
 TRUBNER'S BIBLIOGRAPHICAL Q^5lVl'&— continued. 
 
 XL Education. 
 
 1. Theory of Education. 
 
 2. College and School-tooks. 
 
 3. Juvenile Books. 
 XII. Modern Languages. 
 
 XIII. Philology — Classical, Oriental, 
 
 Comparative. 
 
 XIV. American Antiquities, Indians, 
 
 and Languages. 
 XV. History. 
 
 1. European, Asiatic, A&'ioan, 
 
 etc. 
 
 2. American History. 
 
 3. Biography. 
 XVI. Geography. 
 
 XVII. Useful Arts. (Architecture, Manu- 
 facture, Mechanics, etc.) 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Military Science. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Naval Science. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Rural and Domestic Economy. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Politics. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Commerce. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Belles Lettres (Criticism, Novels 
 
 
 Dramas, Poems). 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Fine Arts. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Music. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Freemasonry. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Mormonism. 
 
 XXVIIL 
 
 Spiritualism. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Guide-books. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Maps and Atlases. 
 
 XXXL 
 
 Periodicals. 
 
 XXXIL 
 
 Addenda. 
 
 Alpbaloetical Index. 
 
 This work, it is believed, is the first attempt to marshal the Literature of the 
 United States of America during the last forty years, according to the generally 
 received bibliographical canons. The Librarian will welcome it, no doubt, as a 
 companion volume to Brunet, Lowndes and Ebert, whilst to the bookseller it will 
 be a faithful guide to the American branch of English Literature— a branch which, 
 on account of its rapid increase and rising importance, begins to force itself daUy 
 more and more upon his attention. Nor will the work be of less interest to the 
 man of letters, inasmuch as it comprises complete Tables of Contents to all the more 
 prominent Collections of the Americans, to the Journals, Memoirs, Proceedings and 
 Transactions of their learned Societies,-and thus furnishes an intelligible key to a 
 department of American scientific activity hitherto but imperfectly known and 
 understood in Europe. 
 
12 Publications of Messrs. Trubner Sf Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 
 
 A HANDBOOK OF AFEICAN, AUSTEALIAN, 
 AID POLMESM PHILOLOGY, 
 
 As represented in the Library of His Excellency Sir George Grey, E.C.B. 
 
 her majesty's high commissioned of the cape colony. 
 
 Classed, Annotated, and Edited bt 
 Sir GEOEGE GREY and De. W. H. J. BLEEK. 
 
 Vol. I. Part 1. — South Africa, 8vo. pp. 186. Is. 6d. 
 
 Vol. I. Part 2.— Africa (North of the Tropic of Capricorn), Svo. pp. 70. 2s. 
 
 Vol. I. Part 3. — Madagascar, Svo. pp. 24. Is. 
 
 Vol. II. Part 1. — Australia, Svo. pp. iv, 44. Is. 6d. 
 
 Vol. 1 1. Part 2. — Papuan Languages of the Loyalty Islands and New Hebrides, 
 comprising those of the Islands of Nengone, Lifu, Aneiteum, 
 Tana, and others, 8vo. pp. 12, 6d.. 
 
 Vol. II. Part 3. — Fiji Islands and Rctuma (with Supplement to Part 2, Papuan 
 Languages, and Part 1, Australia.) Svo. pp. 34. , Is. 
 
 Vol; 11. Part 4. — New Zealand, the Chatham Islands, and Auckland Islands, Svo. 
 pp. 76. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Vol. IL Part 4 (continuation). — Polynesia and Borneo,. Svo. pp. 77 to 154. 3s. 63. 
 
 The ahove is, without exception, the most important addition yet made to African 
 Philology. The amount of materials brought together by Sir George, with a view to 
 elucidate the subject, is stupendous; and the labour bestowed on them, and the results 
 arrived at, incontestably establish the claim of the Author to be called the father of 
 African and Polynesian Philology. 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 " We congratulate the Governor of the 
 Cape on the production of a most important 
 aid to the study of the twin sciences of 
 philology and ethnology, and look forward to 
 the completion of the Catalogue itself as a, 
 great and permanent step towards civilization 
 of the barbarous races whose formation, ha- 
 bits, language, religion, and food, are all, more 
 or less, most carefully noted in its pages." — 
 Leader. 
 
 " It is for these substantial reasons that we 
 deemed it worth a brief notice to call atten- 
 tion to these excellently arranged Catalogues 
 (with important notes), describing the vari- 
 ous works in the library of Sir George Grey, 
 and by which this great philanthropist will 
 greatly aid in civilizing the numerous peoples 
 within the limit of the colony of the Cape of 
 Good Hope." — Brighton Gazette. 
 
Publications of Messrs. Trubner 8f Co., 60, Paternoster How. 13 
 
 TRtJBNER'S BIBLIOTHECA GLOTTICA. 
 
 THE LITEEATUEE 
 
 or 
 
 AIEEICAN ABOEIGOAL LAI^GMGES. 
 
 By HERMANN E. LUDEWIG. 
 
 With Additions and Corrections by Professor Wm. W. TURNER. 
 
 Edited by NICOLAS TRUBNER. 
 
 8vo. ; fly and general Title, 2 leaves ; Dr. Ludewig's Preface, pp. v— viii; Editors 
 Preface, pp. ix— xii; Biographical Memoir of Dr. Ludewig, pp. xui, xiv ; and 
 Introductory Bibliographical Notices, pp. xiv— xxiv, followed by List of Con- 
 tents Then follow Dr. Ludewig's Bibliotheca Glottica, alphabetically arranged, 
 with additions by the Editor, pp. 1—209; Professor Turner's additions, with those 
 of tlie Editor to the same, also alphabetically arranged, pp. 210—246; Index, pp. 
 247—256; and list of Errata, pp. 257, 258. One volume, handsomely bound in 
 cloth, price 10s. 6d. 
 
 This work is intended to supply a great want, now that the study of Ethnology 
 has proved that exotic languages are not mere curiosities, but essential and interesting 
 parts of the natural history of man, forming one of the most curious links m the great 
 chain of national affinities, defining as they do the reciprocity existmg between man 
 and the soil he lives upon. No one can venture to write the History of Amenca 
 without a knowledge of her aboriginal languages ; and unimportant as such researches 
 may seem to men engaged in the mere bustling occupations of life, they will at least 
 acknowledge that these records of the past, like the stern-hghts of a departing ship, 
 are -the last glimmers of savage life, as it becomes absorbed or recedes before the 
 tide of civilization. Dr. Ludewig and Professor Turner have made most diligent use 
 of the public and private collections in America, access o all of which was most 
 liberally granted to them. This has placed at their disposa the labours of the Ame- 
 rican MifsTonaries, so little known on this side of the Atlantic that they may be 
 lioked upon almos in the light of untrodden ground. But Enghsh and Contmental 
 libraries have also been ransacked ; and Dr. Ludewig kept up a constant and active 
 correspondence with scholars of "the Fatherland," as well as wi h men of similar 
 tXs'rd pursuits in France, Spain, and Holland, .^^f --d to Uave nytone 
 unturned to render his labours as complete as possib e. The volume, pe«"t ™ 
 u"e"fTs the first of an enlarged edition of Vater's " Ltnguarum tottus orbts Index. 
 The work has been noticed bfthe press of both Continents, and we may be permitted 
 to refer particularly to the following : 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 " This work, mainly the production of the 
 late Herr Ludewig, a German naturalized in 
 America, is devoted to an account of the lite- 
 rature of the aboriginal languages oi that 
 country. It gives an alphabetical hst oi tHe 
 various tribes of whose languages any record 
 
 remains, and refers 'to the works, papers, or 
 manuscripts, in which such information may 
 be foimd. The work has evidently been a 
 labour of love ; and as no pains seems to 
 have been spared by the editors. Prof. Turner 
 and Mr. Triibner, in rendering the work as 
 
14 PuhKcations of Messrs. Trubner 8f Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 
 
 TRUBNER'S BIBLIOTHECA Gi'LOT'VlCA.—eorHinued. 
 
 accurate and complete as possible, those who 
 are most interested in its contents will be best 
 able to judge of the labour and assiduity be- 
 stowed upon it by author, editors, and pub- 
 lisher." — Athenmtim, Sth April, 1858. 
 
 " This is the first instalment of a work 
 which will he of the greatest value to philo- 
 logists ; and is a compendium of the abori- 
 ginal languages of the American continents, 
 and a digest of all the known literature hear- 
 ing upon those languages. Mr. Triibner's 
 hand has been engaged .passim, and in his 
 preface he lays claim to about one-sixth of 
 the whole ; and we have no doubt that the 
 encouragement with which this portion of the 
 work will he' received by scholars, will be 
 such as to inspire Mr. Triibner with sufScient 
 confidence to persevere in his arduous and 
 most honourable task." — The Critic, 15th 
 Dec. 1857. 
 
 " Few would believe that a good octavo 
 volume would be necessary to exhaust the 
 subject; yet so it is, and this handsome, use- 
 ful, and curious volume, carefully compiled 
 by Mr. Ludewig, assisted by Professor Turner, 
 and edited by the careful hand of Mr., Triib- 
 ner, the well-known publisher, will be sure to 
 find a place in many libraries." — Benfs Ad- 
 vertiser, 6th Nov. 1857. 
 
 " The lovers of American linguistics will 
 find in the "work of Mr. Triibner scarcely any 
 point omitted calculated to aid the compara- 
 ■tive philologer in tracing the various lan- 
 guages of the great Western Continent." — 
 Galway Mercim/, 30th Jan. 1858. 
 
 " Only those deeply versed ;u philological 
 studies can appreciate this book at its full 
 value. It shows that there are upwards of 
 seven hundred and fifty aboriginal Ajmrioan 
 languages." — Gektleman's Magazine, Feb. 
 1858. 
 
 '' The work contains an account of no 
 fewer than seven hundred different aboriginal 
 dialects of America, with an introductory 
 chapter of bibliograpMcal information; and 
 under each dialect is an account of any gram- 
 mars or other works illustrative of it." — The 
 Bookseller, Jan. 1858. 
 
 " We have here the list of monuments still 
 existing of an almost innumerable series of 
 languages and dialects of the American Con- 
 tinent. The greater part of Indian gram- 
 mars and vocacularies exist only in MS., and 
 were compiled chiefly by Missionaries of the 
 Christian Church ; and to Dr. Ludewig a,nd 
 Mr. Triibner, we are, therefore, the more in- 
 debted for the great care with which they 
 have pointed out where such are to ba found, 
 as well as for enumerating those which have 
 been printed, either in a separate shape, in 
 
 collections, or in voyages and travels, and 
 elsewhere." — Leader, Uth Sept. 1858. 
 
 " I have not time, nor is it my purpose, to 
 go into a review of this admirable work, or 
 to attempt to indicate the extent and value 
 of its contents. It is, perhaps, enough to say, 
 that apart from a concise but clear enumera- 
 tion and notice of the various general philo- 
 logical works which treat with greater or 
 less fulness of American languages, or which 
 incidentally touch upon their bibliography, 
 it contains not less than 256 closely -printed 
 octavo p^es of hibhographioal notices of 
 grammars, vocabularies, etc., of the aboriginal , 
 languages of America. It is a peculiar and 
 valuable feature of the work that not only 
 the titles of printed or published grammars 
 or vocabularies are given, but also that un- 
 published or MS. works of these kinds are 
 noticed in all cases where they are known 
 to exist, but which have disappeared among 
 the debris of the suppressed convents and re- 
 ligious establishments of Spanish America." 
 — E. G. Sqmer, in a paper read hefdre the 
 Ajnerican Ethnological Society, 12th j^an. 
 1858. 
 
 " In consequence of the death of the author 
 before he had finished the revisal of the work, 
 it has been carefully examined by competent 
 scholars, who have also made many valuable 
 additions." — American Publishers ^Circular, 
 30th Jan. 1858. 
 
 " It contains 256 closely printed pages of 
 titles of printed books and manuscripts, and 
 notices of American aboriginal languages, and" 
 embraces references to nearly all that has 
 been written or published respecting them, 
 whether in special works or incidentally in 
 books of travel, periodicals, or proceedings of ' 
 learned societies."— JVew TorJc Herald, 29th 
 Jan. 1858. 
 
 " The manner in which this contribution 
 to the bibliography of American languages 
 has been executed, both by the author, Mr. 
 Ludewig, and the able writers who have 
 edited the work since his death, is spoken of 
 in the highest terms by gentlemen most con- 
 versant with the subject." — American Misto- 
 rical Magazine, VoL II., Noi 5, May, 1858. 
 
 " Je terminerai en anon9ant le premier 
 volume d'une publication appelfie a rendre 
 de grands services i la philologie compares 
 et a la linguistique g€nerale. Je veux pai'ler 
 de la Bibliotheca Glottica, ouvrage deyant 
 renfermer la liste de tous les diotionnahfes et 
 de toutes les grammaires des langiies oon- 
 nues, tanC imprimis que manusorits." L'4di-- 
 teur de cette prficieuse bihliographie est M. 
 Nicolas Triibner, dont le nom est honorablfe- 
 raent oonnu dans le monde oriental. Le 
 
Publications of Messrs. Truhner 8f Co., 60, Paternoster Row. 15 
 
 TRUBNER'S BIBLIOTHECA Gl^OTnUCk-oot^tinued. 
 premier volume est consaor^ aux idiomes 
 Amgricaines; le second doit traiter des lan- 
 gues de I'Inde. Le travail est fait aveo le 
 soia le plus conscienoieux, et fera honneur a 
 M. Nicolas Triitner, surtout s'il poursuit son 
 oeuvre avec le m^me ardeur qu'il mise a le 
 oommenoer."— i. Leon de Rosny, Revue de 
 I'Orieut, F^vrier, 1858. 
 
 " Mr. Triibner's most important work on 
 the bibUography of the aboriginal languages 
 of America is deserving of all praise, as emi- 
 nently useful to those who study that branch 
 of literature. The value, too, of the book, 
 and of the pains which its compilation must 
 have cost, wiU not be lessened by the con- 
 sideration that it is first in this field of lin- 
 guistic literature." — Petermann's Geogra- 
 phische Mittheilungen, p. 79, Feb. 1858. 
 
 _" Undoubtedly this volume of Trubner's 
 Bibliotheca Glottica ranks amongst the most 
 valuable additions which of late years have 
 enriched our bibliographical literature. To 
 US Germans it is, most gratifying that the 
 initiative has been taken by a German book- 
 seller himself, one of the most intelligent and 
 active of our countrymen abroad, to produce 
 a work which has higher aims than mere 
 pecuniary profit, and that he, too, has la- 
 houred at its production with his own hands; 
 because daily it is becoming a circumstance 
 of rarer occurrence that, as in this case, it is 
 a bookseller's primary object to serve the 
 cause of literature rather than to enrich him- 
 self." — P. Tromel, Borsenbhit, 4th Jan. 
 1858. 
 
 " In the compilation of the work the editors 
 have availed themselves not only of the la- 
 bours of Vater, Barton, Duponoeau, Gallatin, 
 De Souza, and others, but also of the MS. 
 sources left by the missionaries, and of many 
 books of which even the library of the British 
 Museum is deficient, and furnish the fullest 
 account of the literature of.no less than 525 
 languages. The value of the work, so neces- 
 sary to the study of ethnology, is greatly 
 enhanced by the addition of a good Index." 
 — Berliner Natiomil-Zeitung, 22nd Nov. 1857. 
 
 " The name of the author, to all those who 
 are acquainted with his former works, and 
 who knovir the thoroughness and profound 
 character of his investigations, is a sufficient 
 
 guarantee that this work will be one of 
 standard authority, and one that will fully 
 answer the demands of the present time." — 
 Petzholdfs Anzeiger, Jan. 1858. 
 
 ^ " The chief merit of the editor and pub- 
 lisher is to have terminated the work care- 
 fully and lucidly in contents and form, and 
 thus to have established a new and largely 
 augmented edition of " Vater' s Linguarum, 
 totius orUs Index," after Professor Jiilg's re- 
 vision of 1847. In order to continue and 
 complete this work the editor requires the 
 assistance of all those who are acquainted 
 with this new branch of science, and we sin- 
 cerely hope it may be accorded to him." — 
 Magazin fur die Literatwr des AuslaTides, No. 
 38, 1858. 
 
 " As the general title of the book indicates, 
 it will be extended to the languages of the 
 other Continents in case it meet with a fa- 
 vourable reception, which we most cordially 
 wish it." — A. F. Pott., Preussisehe Jahr- 
 Mcher, Vol. II. part I. 
 
 " Cette compilation savante est sans con- 
 tredit, le travail bibliographique le plus im- 
 portant que notre epoque ait vu surgir sur les 
 nations indigenes de I'Am&ique." — Nou- 
 velles Annates des Voyages, Avril, 1859. 
 
 " La Bibliotheca Glottica, dont M. Nicolas 
 Triibner a oommeuoe la publication, est un 
 des livres les plus utiles qui aient jamais 4t6 
 r^diges pour faciliter I'^tude de la philologie 
 oompar^e. Le premier tome de cette gi'ande 
 bibUographie linguistique comprend la hste 
 textuelle de toutes les grammaires, de tons 
 les diotionnaires et des vocabulaires m^me les 
 moins ^tendus qui ont 6te imprimes dans les 
 differents dialeotes des deux Am^riques; en 
 outre, il fait connaitre les ouvrages manu- 
 scrits de la m6me nature renfermes dans 
 les principales bibliotheques publiques et par- 
 ticulieres. Ce travail a du n^cessiter de lon- 
 gues et patientes recherches; aussi m&-ite- 
 t-il d'attirer tout particuliSrement I'attention 
 des philologues. Puissent les autres volumes 
 de cette biblioth^que Stre rddig^s avec le 
 meme soin et se trouver bientot entre les 
 mains de tous les savants auxquels ils peu- 
 vent rendre des services inappr&iables." — 
 Revue Americaine et Orientah, No. I., Oct. 
 1858. 
 
 The Editor has also received most kind and encouraging letters respecting the 
 work from Sir George Grey, the Chevalier Bunsen, Dr. Th. Goldstucker, Mr. Watts 
 (of the Museum), Professor A. Fr. Pott (of Halle), Dr. Julius Petzholt (of Dresden), 
 Hofrath Dr. Grasse (of Dresden), M. F. F. de la Figaniere (of Lisbon), E. Edwards 
 (of Manchester), Dr. Max Miiller (of Oxford), Dr. Buschmann (of Berlin), Dr. Jiilg 
 (of Cracow), and other linguistic scholars. 
 
16 Publications of Messrs. Truiner ^ Co., 60, Paternoster Rota. 
 
 By HENSLEIGH WEDGWOOD, M.A. 
 
 LATE FELLOW OF CHBIST COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 Vol. I., em1)Tacuig Letters A to D. 8vo. pp. xxiv. 508, cloth boards, price 14*. 
 
 /» Croum 8vo., eloA loa/rds, price Z». 6d, 
 
 THE BIGLOW PAPERS. 
 
 BY J. R. LOWELL. 
 
 Beprinted &om the last American Edition with the sanction of the Anthor. 
 
 NEWIiT EDITED, AKD ACCOMPAIHED WITH A FSEFACE, 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF TOM BROWN'S SCHOOLDAYS. 
 
 " But for real QDmistakable genius, — for that glorious fulness of power which knocks a man 
 down at a blow for sheer admiration, and then makes him rush into the arms of the knocker 
 down, and swear eternal friendship with him, for sheer delight, the * Biglnw Papers ' stand 
 alone. "—Extract from Editor's Preface, 
 
 REYNARD THE FOX. 
 
 After tte Germaa Version of Goethe. By Thomas J. Asnold, Esq. 
 
 *' Fair jester's hamour and merry wit 
 Never offend, thongh smartly they bit.** 
 
 WITH SEVENTY ILLUSTRATIONS, AFTER THE CELEBRATED DESIGNS 
 
 BY WILHELM VON KAULBACH. 
 
 Eoyal Bvo. Printed by Clat, on toned Paper, and elegantly honnd in embossed cloth, 
 
 ivith appropriate Design after Kaui.bach, richly tooled front and hack, price 16«. 
 
 Best frill morocco, same pattern, price 24g.; 
 
 or neatly half-bonnd morocco, gilt top, nncat edges, Roxburgh style, price 18«. 
 
 THE MABVELLOTTS ADVENTURES AND BASE CONCEITS 
 OF MASTER T7LL OWLGLASS. 
 
 Edited, with an Intboditction', and a Critical and Bibliographical ApPEiiDix, 
 By KENNETH R. H. MACKENZIE, F.S.A. 
 
 With Six Coloured fall-page Illnstrations, and 26 Woodcuts, £rom Origmal Deagns 
 
 by Axf S£D CsowQuux. 
 
 Price lOs. Sd, bound in embossed cloth, richly gilt, with appropriate Design; 
 
 or neatly half-bound morocco, gilt top, uncut, Roxburgh style. 
 
 *' A volume of rare beauty, finely printed 
 on tinted paper, and profusely adorned with 
 chroraolithograpbs and woodcuts, in Alfred 
 Crowquill's best manner. Wonderful has been 
 the popularity of Tyl Eulenspie^el . , . . 
 surpassing even that of the * Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress.* "—5i?cctotor, Oct. 29, 1859. 
 
 *' A book for the antiquary ; for the satirist, 
 and the historian of satire; for the boy who 
 reads for adventures* sake; for the grown 
 person, loving every fiction that has character 
 
 in it The book, as it stands, is a wd- 
 
 come piece of English reading, with hardly a 
 
 dry or tasteless morsel in it.^-r^^Aefucwm, 
 Nov. 5. 1859. 
 
 " There are, indeed, few langna^ in Europe 
 into which the adventures of this arch-mys- 
 
 tifieator have not been translated The 
 
 bibliographical appendix, which the editor has 
 added to the volume, wUl be of great interest 
 and value to those who are curious in re- 
 searches of that kind.*' — CriOCy Nov. 5, 18^. 
 
 " This can hardly faU. to become one of the 
 most popular among the books of the winter 
 season." — Morning Meraid, Hov* 9, 1859. 
 
 TRUBNER & CO., 60, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. 
 
iiiii