pation she had sufficient influence to be very troublesome to him in the commencement of his reign,and when he was obliged to be gradual in his usurpation of power. In the organization of the new temporary government she out manœuvred the future emperour, and placed Benjamin Constant in one of the assemblies, in spite of his efforts to the contrary. When he had acquired stability, he did not forget Madame de Stael, but sent Talleyrand to tell her she must leave Paris, and go to Switzerland. It was rather an awkward commission, but he executed it with address. He called on her, and after a few compliments told her—“ I hear, madame, you are going to take a journey."-"O no, it is a mistake, I have not the least intention of doing it."-" Pardon me, I heard you were going to Switzerland."-" I have no such project, I assure you."—" I have been told so by the best authority, and that you would leave Paris in three days." The hint was taken. Af ter some period had elapsed, she returned to Paris, and,about the epoch of General Moreau's banishment, she was exiled again, and ordered not to come within ten leagues of Paris, because at her house a numerous circle of men of talents and influence assembled, who were disaffected to the government. This she evaded two or three times, which was discovered by the police,and she was then banished to Switzerland. She made a tour in that country the summer of last year in company with her friend, the beautiful Madame Recamier, and the last winter they passed at Vienna. The regions of science and literature have been so generally explored, that many of those, who have not been able to discover any new matter, have been contented with the humbler occupation of varying the manner of what has been already described. Several of the sciences have been divested of their harsh and technical appearance, and taught by tricks and experiments, by rhymes and riddles, as our quacks administer their medicines in the guise of sugar-plums. History and Romance, which have often been two names for the same thing, are becoming so blended, that, possibly, the notions of posterity about the two or three last centuries will be very similar to those we have of the expedition of the Argonauts. Fifty years ago we were diverted with "Romantick Histories," and now we are treated with "Historical Romances." If our descendants should become so enervated and effeminate by this exuberance of the press, as to prefer amusement to fact, many of our sprightly romances will be read, and many of our dull histories will be forgotten. Corinna is a novel engrafted on a journey and description of Italy, and the licentious fashion of blending fancy and reality is more innocent and justifiable in this kind of work than in any other. Of the advantages,which it possesses, Madame de Stael has availed herself in the ablest manner. The description of the interesting and magnificent objects of Rome, the disquisitions ou Italian society, and the progress of the novel, are most ingeniously mingled, and by being alternately brought forward, prevent the most fastidious reader from tiring. Mrs. Radcliffe's romances are celebrated for their beautiful descriptions, which lose a great part of their interest not only from being too often repeated, but because they are only pleasing pictures of the writer's im agination, composed perhaps from studies of landscape, but vague and transitory as the shadows of summer clouds. Here Madame de Stael possesses a striking advantage; for, not confined like a writer of travels, to mere journalizing and description, a selection suffices for her purpose, and the canvass of her work is filled, not with The Alps, the Appenines and River Po, but with the most interesting objects of ancient and modern Italy. The persons of the novel are few in number, but these few are sketched with that delicate and minute observation of character, which belongs to her sex; while the contrasts arising from different tempers and education, and the effects of the passions, are developed with all the force and skill produced by a profound knowledge of the human heart. Count d'Erpeuil is a gay, well bred, distinguished Frenchman, portrayed with the most aggravat. ing accuracy: perhaps the fidelity and spirit of this portrait is better sustained than any other in the book. Mr. Edgermond, the relation of. Lord Nelvill, who makes his appearance at Rome, is delincated so generally, that he represents a species, yet so simply and naturally, that he affects us like a miniature among a collection of his. torical pictures. Oswald posseses too many noble qualities to suffer us to despise him; but when a being, like Corinna, is sacrificed to morbid sensibility and imaginary duties, we pity the victim too much to respect the sacrificer. Corinna is the fair monster of the work she is a character out of nature; so at least she will be generally, and so she had better be considered: yet she has enough of humanity in her composition, a sufficient portion of the faculty of inspiring and suffering emotion, to excite, even in the of striking and novel; and in the preThe incidents are many of them the rarest kinds of merit. Oswald sent state of literature, this is one saving the madmen from the hospital in flames at Ancona, the moonand Corinna on the road from Nalight scene at the fountain of Trevi, ples to Portici, will support MadThe style is eloquent; and the ame de Stael's claim to this praise. thoughts are many of them singu larly just, beautiful and original. The intimate knowledge, which is discovered of the character of dif ferent nations, is a remarkable fea. ture of this work; and it is hard to rately, the French, the Italian, or say which is delineated most accuthe English 7 1.. tells Oswald," je n'aime en fait The Count d'Erpeuil de nation, que les Anglais et les Francais; il faut etre fiers comme eux, ou brillans comme nous, tout le reste n'est que de l'imitation." It is easy to sec, which has the supe. riority in the eyes of the author. Neither Dr. Moore, nor M. Düpaty has shewn more acquaintance logue allows her the means of atwith the Italian character; the diatacking it with the ebullitions of French vanity, and the moroseness of English pride; which is answered by Corinna only with patient pears to have been one of the prin submission and mild regret. It ap cipal objects of the writer,to shew, that the Italians have been more sinned against than sinning" to convert the contempt of the world men, whose ancestors once governed into pity, and to excite a belief, that the universe, who have furnished learning and the arts with some of their brightest ornaments, are capable of being elevated from their pre sent degraded situation, and assuming a conspicuous rank in the world. The work is not without its faults; and those,who are fonder of the chaff than the grain, may select them. But there is one obliquity of sentiment, which becomes the more remarkable, as it exercises a fatal influence over the conduct of her hero. Madame de Stael was extremely fond of her father, and has attempted in a book, she published, containing his posthumous works, to sublimate this affection, into a mysterious, metaphysical passion, which exposed her to severe reprehension from the French criticks. If she had persuaded the world in this respect, she could only acquire credence for singularity; yet, by a kind of perversity, she has made this indefensible principle a governing motive in her new work. Peculiar circumstances may modify the affections unnaturally in a few individuals will Madame de Stael make an unfortunate exception a general rule? Is affection to a mother so subordinate, that la perte d'un pere, is la plus intime de toutes les douleurs? Is affection for a husband, or for our offspring, weaker than this? Ardent and melancholy minds are apt to run into exaggeration, but this if it were realized, would recal the fable of Saturn devouring his children. To expiate this censure of Madame de Stael, it will be a grateful task to attempt her defence, where she has been blamed unjustly. It has been said, that her inimitable description of the circle in Northumberland has a tendency to discour age the gentle virtues of private, and to ridicule the simplicity of domestick life, while the brilliant Corinna will dazzle and allure. Alas! poor See Edinburgh Revie Corinna! did ever moral of any his tory stare the reader more fully in the face? Is it not as apparent, as those, heaped up at the end of fables, labelled and dried for the use of school-boys? Does not the luckless heroine lament, that she is deprived of the charms of domestick life, which she was formed to enjoy; and does she not fall a victim to one of these admirers of still life? The author gives a representation, which is neither harsh nor extravagant, of the imbecile taciturnity, the morose, awkward pride, and the petrifying power of this Northumberland teadrinking society, which occasions an outcry among the parties concerned. What will these moralists say to the following lines of Cowper, which ought to be engraven on the teapot of every similar coterie! True modesty is a discerning grace, And only blushes in the proper place; But counterfeit is blind, and skulks through fear, Where 'tis a shame to be asham'd to appear: Humility the parent of the first, Every five minutes, how the minutes go. The improvisations of Corinna will be less admired than any other part of the work. That, which she makes at the capital, is eloquent, and would be beautiful in Italian verse, but is too florid for prose. The last, which is recited at Florence, must be excepted; it is affecting and sublime. He, who can read it without emotion, would do well nev• er to leave the bounds of demonstra tion to wander among the fields of literature. If any young man reads it, and every pulse does not vibrate and every nerve thrill, let him not hesitate in the choice of a profession: let him not be a clergyman, he would have to preach the sublime doctrines of christianity, to sustain weakness, and console affliction: let him not study the law, he might be called upon to oppose powerful injustice, or to defend the devoted victim against popular clamour and factious persecution: let him not be a physician, he may be expected to soothe the agony of wounded affection, to sympathize with the wretched, when his art has been ineffectual : no, let him hord dollars and accumulate interest; his progress will be certain-nay, (the advice is perfectly disinterested) he will do well to bring up his children in the same manner This article has become too extended to admit of extracting passages from the work, to illustrate the opinions here advanced. One only must be indulged, for the sake of contrasting Madame de Stael with Kotzebue. The latter published in 1806, Travels in Italy, in four volumes, which are principally remarkable for their stale and virulent abuse of religion. The flattest jests and most scurrilous remarks abound in every chapter; and what would be ridiculous, if it was not odious, is that he seems to have just awakened,and made aQuixotick expedition to retail forgotten, exploded abuse, which in the sixteenth century might have possessed the merit of boldness, but now is only insipid and cowardly. The Pope and the Catholicks are shewn no mer, cy. When the Lion was confined to his den through age and infirmity, the Ass came and kicked him. The following sentence contains the reflections of Kotzebue on the illuminated cross, which is suspended from the dome of St. Peter's on Good Friday Evening. Le Ven 66 "dredi Saint on suspend dans la "Coupole une croix enorme,illuminée "par trois cents lampes, ce qui doit "faire une fort jolie decoration.” Compare this with the description and reflections of Madame de Stael on the same subject. The whole chapter, which is the fourth in the tenth book, is very interesting; but a single paragraph only will be taken, the first sentence of which is occupied by the same object with the one quoted from Kotzebue. Corinne suivit la procession qui se rendait dans le temple de Saint Pierre, qui minée; ce signe de douleur, seul resplenn'est alors éclairé que par une croix illudissant dans l'anguste obscurité de cet immense edifice, est la plus belle image du Christianisme au milieu des tenebres' de la vie. Une lumiere pale et lointaine les tombeaux. Les vivans qu'on apercoit se projette sur les statues qui decorent en foule sous ces voutes semblent des pygmées en comparaison des images des morts. Il y a autour de la croix un espace eclairè par elle, ou se prosternent le Pape vêtu de blanc, et tous les Cardiprès d'ane demi heure dans le plus pronaux rangés derriere lui. Ils restent la fond silence, et il est impossible de n'etre pas ému par ce spectacle. On ne sait pas ce qu'ils demandent, on n'entend pas leurs secrets gemissemens; mais ils sont vieux, ils nous devancent dans la route de la tombe: quand nous passerons à notre tour dans ce terrible avantgarde, Dieu nous fera-t'il la grace d'ennoblir assez la viellesse, pour que le declin de la vie soit les premiers jours de l'immortalité ! Let the reader of the most ardent conception reflect a while upon this picture: the mystery, which is the most affecting and tremendous, the most awful and sublime, the consummation indeed of all the others of the christian faith, the populace and nobility of Rome, the whole hierarchy of the church with their spiritual Father at their head, are kneeling in silent and passionate devotion; the only light, which trembles on the outlines of this immense and august congregation, on the statues of saints, and the tombs of departed sovereigns, emanates from the illuminated type of the sacrifice they are celebrating let him consider the lively and intimate belief of this assembly, that the time is night,the place, the vast Basilick of St. Peters; he may loose the reigns of his imagination, it will never outstrip the effect such a scene would produce. For the Anthology. EXHIBITION AT SOMERSET HOUSE. London, June 20th, 1808. I RECEIVED, rather unexpectedly, your letter from Gravesend, requesting some remarks upon the exhibition at Somerset House, and have been three times, in order to form a deliberate opinion. I cannot persuade myself to respect the arts in this country. Even the President provoked me excessively by the first words I ever heard him pronounce, when showing us an outline-engraving." I shall perhaps" said he, “have all my works engraved in this way,if I find the publick have any taste for it!!" Was there ever such a self-condemning sentence; or such an insult to the publick? After boasting of having painted more than ever artist painted; after a long life, which ought to have been devoted not only to raise the state of the arts generally, but to create a taste for them which should at this day have admitted of no doubt; that observation excited in me some of the genuine irritabili ty, and has in some degree diminish ed my reverence for his works. Thus prepared, I went, not like a true shepherd to roll my eyes with delight over Arcadian fields, but to encounter horses, dogs, and pigs. Nothing so lively, I assure you! But head upon head-whole lengths, half lengths and quarter lengths! These are the green fields of fat cows" of pastoral life, which adorn the walls of Somerset House! I had no sooner seated myself to sur vey them more at leisure, than I felt that disposition for yawning, which such an exhibition of endless, thickchop'd portraits annually excites. It is very like finding yourself at a cit's dinner, surrounded by good, wholesome, fat faces in perfect unison with the steaming round of beef, at which a grain of attick salt would excite as much surprize as a shower of hail. I should, before I proceed any farther, offer as a supposition, that this exhibition at Somerset House is considered by some of the artists as a catch-penny thing-that any thing will do for the vulgar mobthat it is very well to get 2000 or 3000 1.-for I do not find that some of the best ever exhibit there, and that Mr. West himself has stuck up a little sketch of his Thetis and Achilles, already exhibited “en grand," which I consider as another insult. The best of the historical paintings is that, which you recollect to |
