!

truth," that the conftitution of England had arrived to its full vigour, and the true balance between liberty and prerogative was happily established by law, in the reign of king Charles the Second."

It is far from my intention to palliate or defend many very iniquitous proceedings, contrary to all law, in that reign, through the artifice of wicked politicians, both in and out of employment. What feems inconteftible is this; that by the law*, as it then ftood, (notwithstanding fome invidious, nay dangerous, branches of the prerogative have been fince lopped off, and the reft more cleared defined) the people had as large a portion of real liberty, as is confiftent with a state of fociety; and fufficient power, refiding in their own hands, to affert and preserve that liberty, if invaded by the royal prerogative. For which I need but appeal to the memorable catastrophe of the next reign. For when King Charles's deluded brother attempted to enflave the nation, he found it was beyond his power: the people both could, and did, refift him; and, in confequence of fuch refiftance, obliged him to quit his enterprize and his throne together. Which introduces us to the laft period of our legal history; viz.

From the revolution in 1688 to the prefent time. In this period many laws have pafled; as the bill of rights, the toJeration-act, the act of fettlement with its conditions, the act for uniting England with Scotland, and fome others: which have afferted our liberties in more clear and emphatical terms; have regulated the fucceffion of the crown by parliament, as the exigencies of religious and civil freedom required; have confirmed, and exemplified the doctrine of refiitance, when the executive magiftrate endeavours to fubvert the conftitution; have maintained the fuperiority of the laws above the king, by pronouncing his difpenfing power to be illegal; have indulged tender confciences with every religious liberty, confiftent with the safety of the ftate; have eftablished triennial, fince turned into feptennial, elections of members to ferve in parliament; have excluded certain officers from the houfe of commons; have restrained the king's pardon from obftrusting parliamentary impeachments; have imparted to all the lords an equal right of trying their fellow peers; have regulated trials for high treafon; have afforded our pofterity a hope that corruption of blood may one day be abolished and forgotten; have (by the defire of his

The point of time, at which I would chufe to fix this theoretical perfection of our public law, is the year 1679; after the habeas corpus act was paffed, and that for licenfing the prefs had expired: though the years which immediately followed it were times of great practical oppreffion.'

prefent

prefent majefty) fet bounds to the civil lift, and placed the adminiftration of that revenue in hands that are accountable to parliament; and have (by the like defire) made the judges completely independant of the king, his minifters, and his fucceffors, Yet, though these provifions have, in appearance and nominally, reduced the ftrength of the executive power to a much lower ebb than in the preceding period; if on the other hand we throw into the oppofite fcale (what perhaps the immoderate reduction of the antient prerogative may have rendered in fome degree neceffary) the vast acquifition of force, arifing from the riot-act, and the annual expedience of a standing army; and the vaft acquifition of perfonal attachment, arifing from the magnitude of the national debt, and the manner of levying thofe yearly millions that are appropriated to pay the intereft; we fhall find that the crown has, gradually and imperceptibly, gained almost as much in influence, as it has apparently loft in prerogative.'

For our accounts of the preceding volumes of this truly excellent Commentary on the Laws of England, we refer our Readers to the 34th, 35th, 36th, and 39th volumes of the Review fee the general Table of Contents to each volume, printed with the Appendixes.

R.

Letters fuppofed to have paffed between M. de St. Evremond, and Mr. Waller, collected and published by the Editor of the Letters between Theodofius and Conftantia. Two Vols. 12mo. 5 S. fewed. Becket and Co. 1769.

Th

HE Author of these letters would certainly be unwilling that they should be confidered merely as a work of entertainment; it can, however, be of use to exhibit the characters of St. Evremond and Waller, in letters which they are feigned to have written, only in proportion as it is fit their fentiments fhould be adopted; the fentiments, therefore, which are found in thefe letters, at leaft thofe that are established by them, muft be imputed to the Author. Many of these are, indeed, not only juft but refined, at the fame time that the characters of the writers are not ill fuftained. There is, however, fomething difgufting in the compliments which the Author is perpetually paying to himself in the perfons of his drama, when they are made to commend the fentiment, the vivacity, the wit, the judgment of the letters he has written for them."

In the IVth Letter the Author, in the character of St. Evremond, having mentioned the Dutchefs of Shrewsbury, who is faid to have held the Duke of Buckingham's horfe, disguised

like a page, while he killed her husband in a duel, makes the following remark:

It was great weakness in Buckingham to be capable of loving a woman who wanted the characteristics of her fex, tendernefs and delicacy. The genius of bold and vulgar prostitution! What a depraved fpirit! what a groveling foul must he have, who can mix his paffions with any thing fo odious! A mafculine woman is my immortal averfion! Mafculine in perfon, or in fpirit, fhe is equally dreadful! Courage in that fex is to me as difguitful as effeminacy in ours. I cannot bear to find even their fentiments of the male kind-A female divine, a female lawyer, a female hiftorian, a female politician, are all infupportable monsters! Out of sex! Out of character! Out of nature! Loft to the very idea of propriety! and always affected to the laft excefs of abfurdity!'

If the Author had ftopped at declaring that he could not bear to find even the sentiments of women of the male kind, his remark would have been just and ufeful. But furely, it is arrogant in man, and injurious to woman, to fuppofe truth and knowledge to be, in this author's fenfe, of the male kind.

It is difficult to conceive how a woman becomes lefs feminine in her fentiments by knowing any truth either in divinity, hiftory, or law. Her fentiments feem to be out of the question; they may furely be juft as feminine if the is knowing as if fhe is ignorant, whether the communicates her knowledge or conceals it; juft as feminine combined with religion, as with fuperftition; with the spirit and ability of rational investigation, as with implicit faith in the tales of the nursery. Neither is it true that knowledge always renders the fex odious by affectation. To poffefs knowledge and abilities is one thing, to overrate them another: to make intellectual acquifitions from which custom has generally precluded the fex is very different from giving up the character; and the Author is unfortunate if he knows no woman, who with all the elegance and foftness of female fentiment and manners, has all the difcernment and knowledge of the philofopher. It happens indeed, very frequently, that a learned dunce is more intolerable in petticoats than breeches. A woman that happens to have learnt old words, old facts, and old cuftoms, and nothing elfe, is very apt to fwell into ridiculous importance upon the acquifition; but this can be no reason why ufeful and important knowledge should not be trufted with genius, whofe characteristics are modefty and diffidence, left they 'fhould produce a moniter, laft to every idea of propriety, and affected to the laft excess of abfurdity.'

Many little fictions are interfperfed in this work, which cane not fail to entertain the Reader; among others is the following, in a letter afcribed to St. Evremond :

REV. Oct. 1769.

X

• You

You know the amiable and gentle Hamilton: though nature has given her a capacity equal to the most arduous attainments, with what addrefs does the manage her excellent talents, and turn them to that kind of culture only which embellishes and endears the female character!-But, as a last proof of her merit, fhe has fixed irrevocably the fickle, the volatile, the various Grammont! You knew his long attachment to herAt length, he has married her. In this measure, however, though he has fhewn both fenfe and honour, yet he proceeded on a principle, of which even you, who know him, will have no idea. And here, too, you will find another instance of the pernicious fpirit of modern gallantry. Though Grammont believed himself that he intended abfolutely to espouse the fair Hamilton, yet when every thing feemed to be fettled, and the critical event drew near, the demon of gallantry took up his part-He played the character of Hymen, and rendered it fo infupportably ridiculous, that Grammont could no longer bear the idea of marriage. The time appointed for the nuptials was at hand-The lover flew upon the wings of the wind to the -coaft of France. This desertion was received with a proper indignation. A brother of the fair Hamilton's, a youth about fixteen or seventeen, purfued and overtook him almost as foon as he had arrived. Grammont (faid he) you blush to see me -You have reason-You know me well-Return this moment with me to England, and do yourself the honour to efpouse my filter-If that is an honour you chufe to decline-I am the youngest of feven brothers, and if I fall by your hand, know, that there are ftill fix living, whofe arms are ftronger and more experienced than mine, and who fcorn, as much as I do, to furvive the honour of a fifter." The count ftood filent for a while, and smiled upon the beardlefs champion-But it was not a fmile of contempt. I have heard him fay, that he never felt the fenfe of honour fo ftrongly as at that moment. The phantom of falfe gallantry difppeared. Let us return, (faid he,) my brave friend--I bluth to think of my folly-I deferve not the honour of being allied to your family; but I will hope to be indebted for it to your kind interceffion."

This was certainly very great. It was a return of reafon ; a recovery from a ftate of infanity. What is true honour but the exercise of right reafon? All elfe is falfe and frivolous. Is courage honour? What a ftrange confufion of ideas! A man of honour would, in that cafe, make a very defpicable figure, if put in the fame fcale with a Ruffian bear. Young Hamilton behaved with a true fenfe of honour-His conduct was reafonable --It had the protection of a fifter for its object. But what fhould we have thought of Grammont, had he acted a different part? In what light would he have appeared, had

he lived to pierce the heart of the woman that he loved, through the hearts of seven brothers-The very idea is horror !-Yet this he certainly muft have done, at leaft have attempted, had he placed honour in courage rather than in reafon.

Had Shrewsbury a right fenfe of honour when he challenged Buckingham? More than half the court will tell you that he had-But, how ridiculous! Is the defection of an infamous woman a difgrace to the man fhe forfakes? Far otherwife-It is rather a mark of his integrity. The antipathy that vice has to virtue is a proof of this. It was rank cowardice, pufillanimity itself, that provoked Shrewsbury to the challenge. He was afraid that his courage should be doubted, if he omit

ted it.

"Yet how univerfal is this idea of falfe honour! In one of the campaigns I made with the Duke D'Enguien, an officer, who had loft his miftrefs, thought it neceffary to fight for her. When he applied to the duke for permiffion, the latter asked him whether it was on account of the love he had for her, and whether he wanted, by killing his rival, to recover her. "No, (replied the officer) but if I do not fight, my courage will be doubted." "If that is all, (faid the duke,) you may be easy about the matter. Ifhall give you an opportunity of putting that out of queftion; for, to-morrow, I intend to fight myfelf."

66

It is to be regretted that if the Author thought fit to reprefent this as the notion of true and false honour conceived by St. Evremond only, he did not fhew its fallacy and his own difapprobation if he has exhibited his own notion of the matter in St. Evremont's character, it is to be regretted still more, that he did not fee its fallacy, and the pernicious confequence it was Likely to produce.

He justly commends Grammont for declining a duel in a bad caufe, but he has not the fame reafon for commending the offer of it in Hamilton, upon pretence that his caufe was good. When Shrewsbury challenged Buckingham for the defection of his wife under the notion of honour, the letter-writer cries out, ridiculous! is the defection of an infamous woman a difgrace to the man fhe forfakes? When young Hamilton challenges Grammont under the notion of preferving the honour of a filter, might we not with the fame reafon cry out, ridiculous! is the defection of a worthless man a difgrace to the woman he forfakes? Hamilton certainly, not lefs than Shrewsbury, appealed to a fulle sense of honour in mankind for the juftification of his conduct, and therefore acted equally upon a falfe principle. The lady could fuffer no difgrace in the eftimation of right reafon by Grammont's defertion, nor hope for any happiness in marriage with a man who

X 2

fhould