cond petty. His mind was like his purse: mu-
nificence and meanness held each a string. His
genius, which was at once adapted to the stage
of the world and the mountebank's show, repre-
sented the royal robe joined to the harlequin's
jacket. He was the man of extremes,-one
who, having commanded the Alps to bow down,
the Simplon to level its head, and the sea to ad-
vance and recede from its shores, ended by sur-
rendering himself to an English cruiser. En-
dowed with wonderful and infinite shrewdness;
seizing, creating, in every question, new and un-
perceived relations, abounding in lively and pic-
turesque images, animated and pointed expres-
sions, the more forcible from the very incorrect-
ness of his language, which always bore a sort of
foreign impress. Sophistical, subtle, and change-
able to excess, he adopted different rules of op-
tics from those by which other men are guided.
Add to this delirium of success, the habit of
drinking from the enchanted cup, and intoxicat-
ing himself with the incense of the world, and
you may be enabled to form an idea of the man
who, uniting in his caprices all that is lofty and
mean in human character; majestic in the splen-
dour of sovereignty, and peremptory in com-
mand, with all that is ignoble and base; joining
the eves-dropper to the subverter of thrones; pre-

sents, altogether, such a Jupiter Scapin, as never before figured in the scene of life*."

The

These are masterly portraits: neither of them can be taxed with flattering their object; yet, allowing the delineations to be worthy of the least faith, would not, we ask once more, the mortal portrayed be a most extraordinary one? Editor of the New Times, however, assures us, that Napoleon was quite a common sort of personage, a mere every-day man,-a man born solely pour la digestion,

"A fellow of no mark nor likelihood."

Surely, if the Editor be correct in his conclusions, he has, to very little purpose, long given himself vast trouble. The insignificant Napoleon did not require nor merit the honour of such frequent and uncourteous notice as he has never failed, living and dead, to receive from the hands of the Editor. Little folk are not apt to be so distinguished; but it is not the first time that the Editor has wielded his double-edged sword, and made and unmade in a breath. Woe betide the wretch who kindles the displeasure of such an Ajax! for he may already count himself upon the cloven rock. Let us now consider

* Vide the Abbé de Pradt's (Archbishop of Maline's) Embassy to Warsaw, 1812.

the Editor's next favourite dogma, the sultana of his heart.

Napoleon, was nowise, he is confident, a great man. We are as positive that he was, and that both the present generation and posterity will acknowledge him by that name. Individuals differ as to the attributes which constitute beauty: in one quarter of our hemisphere it consists in the possession of a snow-white bosom,-in another quarter, in being the owner of a jet-black complexion*. In the like manner, people differ as to the qualifications which entitle, a man to the envied appellation of great. The Editor conceives that no mortal can be great without being good. We believe that virtue is not absolutely necessary to greatness, although it needs must be so to goodness. Napoleon may or may not have been a good man; and yet, if we make choice of the latter alternative, he will, notwithstanding, remain a great one. We call a man great, whatever may be his foibles or his crimes, who shall extend the boundary of human knowledge; or who, by his conduct, shall produce some material alteration in the state of his country, or of the world. We call a man

* When the celebrated Mungo Parke first met the eye of some of the inhabitants of the interior of Africa, they exclaimed, with great trepidation, "The Lord defend us from the devil!"-Vide Parke's Travels.

good, who, with large or small means, shall the nearest conform his actions to the word of God:-and we call a man both great and good, who shall unite the whole of these particulars. If our definitions be correct, it will follow that a man may be a consummate villain, and, nevertheless, a great man. A few examples will, probably, best illustrate our meaning. J. J. Rousseau, Voltaire, Hume, we consider to have been great, although not good men. They possessed, in an eminent degree, cultivated minds, and their writings tend to enlighten society; but the rose is not without its thorn, and there is no doubt of the evil doctrines which many of their productions promulgate. Macbeth was a great man, although a wicked one. had capacity, ambition, courage;—he had, besides, humanity, generosity, conscience, and, in some measure, the fear of a Superior Being. When the dreadful moment approached for murdering Duncan, he felt an insupportable conflict between these opposite principles, and, when it was arrived, his utmost courage failed,-the worse part of his nature fell prostrate under the power of the better,-the angel of goodness arrested the demon that grasped the dagger, and would have taken that dagger away, if the pure demoniacal firmness of his wife, who had none

He

of these counteracting principles, had not shamed and hardened him to the deed*.

Almagro†, Pizarro‡, and De Luque§, were great men; and, whilst we abhor the principles which guided them, and the designs which they executed, we will still not refuse, to their courage and their constancy, the meed of our approbation. These conquerors of one of the most extensive empires, before they had obtained any

* Essays (on Decision of Character), in a Series of Letters to a Friend; John Foster: vol. 1, p. 173.

† Diego de Almagro, born in 1463, was a foundling. He excelled in the soldierly qualities of intrepid valour, indefatigable activity, and insurmountable constancy, He was also open, generous, and candid. He was strangled in prison, and afterwards publicly beheaded, by order of Pizarro, in 1538.

Francisco Pizarro, born in 1478, was the natural son of a gentleman, by a very low woman. He was neglected by his father, who sent him, when bordering on manhood, to keep pigs. He afterwards enlisted as a soldier, and soon distinguished himself. He was foremost in every danger, patient under the greatest hardships, and unsubdued by any fatigue. He acquired such a knowledge of affairs and of men, that he was soon considered formed to command. He was assassinated in his palace, by Herradon, in 1541.

§ Hernando de Luque was an ecclesiastic and schoolmaster, and had, in those characters, amassed riches, by means which the contemporary writers have not described. Being a churchman, he was soon provided by Pizarro with what he most desired, a lucrative See.-Vide History of America; W. Robertson, D. D.: vol. 2, pp. 273, 283, 350.