The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1824-08-17 00:00:00

a state preferable to every other mode of etioying power, which, in
exchange for the single advantage, that the King should not be
cramped by. a national representation, makes him take upon him.
self the entire harshen of the fate of his people ? flow is it pos-
sible toe a King not to become more powerful with the voice of the
deputies of his people, and the Peers or his kingdom, than with
lan absolute will ? For if any burthen oppresses his subjects, they
'nn complain only of their representatives or of the Ministers. So
that the King of France can have no interest in preferring a kind or
powcr which cannot be so extensive or so solid as that which he
now enjoy!.

Any undertaking may be entered upon which has the consent of
a legislative body ; and it is quite astonishing to behold the
enormous sacrifices a state is capable of bearing, •w hen the sanction
of a constituted body renders legal the demand of such sacrifices.
But when this public voice in wanting, the Minister of a legislating
monarch remains Continually watchful and fearfully anxious re-
sperting the result of many measures he may think proper to adopt.
A few measures taken to direct public instruction, the writings
and the speeches ut some members belonging to the religious
orders, have created an outcry respecting a pretended plan of caus-
ing the French nation to go back, and of enslaving it under a yoke
of ignorance and of superstition ; but these fears are no better
founded than the former ones; for, in the first place, it would be
required for us to believe that the Government saw a great advan-
tage, not only in approving, but in Mitering the plan of those fra-
trinities. under a supposition that their plan could really embody a
great influence, which is an absurdity: Governments understand
better than the people do their true interests ; and it, on some oc-
casions, they have been mistaken, they have in the end corrected
their own faults by the exertion of their pow. r ; Which could with
difficulty be effected by the people themselves, who never know
how to retrace a wrong course but after the event has proved in
contradiction to their object. Vet, setting aside this consideration,
let us inquire if m he possible for ignorance and superstition to take
real hold of the public mind.
If the great changes in society are motely to be attributed to the
effects of the pros and commerce, how is it .0 be believed that
any barrier or Coline can be applied in opposition to the pdwetful
influence of those two great springs, winch act upon every elan
and all nations, from 1 era Crux to Archangel ? 11. ere you to sup.
press all the journal, close the ports, destroy the canals, bum
every bock, shut up all the theatres, prevent the communica-
tions of commerce and correspondence by letter, impose silence on
enlightened preachers, forbid travels and communication with nil-
vellets, then might you begin to have reasonable fears as to the in-
fluence of superstition and ignorance. At the very time that the
au:ltority of the fraternitin, which have been so virulently assailed,
was almost nnqueitioned ; at a time when the first &mates made a
part of these congregations, which. should hot at any rate be de-
prived of the merit of the great diseoverieti in the sciences, the great
works in literature, and the great services rendered to the chief
Universities ; at tire time, I say again, when every thing coun-
tenanced their power, what was the result of their extraordinary
influence? They assisted the impetus given to the huaian mind
rather than they subdued it. It may be declared, the• the eighteenth
century has been their work ; fur all the great men whom farts pus'
crowned, whether in literature oe polities, were taught in their
schools and it must not be forgotten, that their fall did not take
n, late b•fore they had spread their doctrine throughout all the col.
legei of youth, and had tutored by its rule each man's conscience;
nor until those corporations had become possessed of the largest
properties in Europe.

FRENCH MANNERS-" MV NEIGHBOURHOOD."

BE M. DE JOEY.

The following is from the number of the European Re-
view published this morning. The paper is addressed by
M. de Jouy to his " Descendants."
" Paris, to which you have given again its ancient name
of Lutwtia, has extended itself towards the west, and the
Wood of Boulogne is enclosed within its walls. This'
i street planted with trees, which runs from the Louvre to
the Bridge of Neuilly, has preserved the name of those
Champ Elyma, where, in my youth, the students of our
colleges used to assemble to play at bars, and toss the ball.
You wish me to conduct you to the very spot where I for-
merly dwelt ; to point out to you, at least, the site of that
hermitage, where the latter half of my life was spent, in
the midst of the polititical troubles with which France, in
my time, was agitated : but before conducting you to the
thous& (Fitton), which you now call the New Athens, let
us examine, first this ancient Paris, which exhibits, at
present, nothing else but rubbish : let us follow the course
of the river, commencing from this magnificent Garden of
Plants, which yin have so astonishingly augmented.
" In that place formerly existed the Latin Country:
such was the name that your ancestors gave to the neigh-
bourhood in which almost all the establishments fur public
instruction were to be found, and in which scarcely any
thing else was taught but the Latin tongue. You have not
only done away with the schools, but you have changed
likewise the object of the studies, and the method of in.
struction : this reform, which is one of the most fortunate
you have made, shall be the particular object of one of my
future letters.
" Upon that vast extent of ground where you have esta-
blished your Lyceums and your Gymnasia, there existed,
in toy time, a colotly descended front the Germans. I per-
ceive bLre and there some of their dwellings; but froin
the silence which posterity observes respecting this small,
but haughty and slothful people, I see that the splendour
it threw forth has not been much more lasting than the
shining traces of that insect which is at present crawling
over the ruins of its palaces.
"We are crossing the Seine at the spot where, in my
time, the Pont Neuf was situate. The only monument
which still eldblS at the point of the Isle of the Palace,
which you have baptiz..el by the name of the Isle of the
Good King, is the statue of hienry IV. I observe, with
surprise, that it is become, in the course of time, much
handsomer and snore picturesque than when it came out
of the hands of the artist: the inclemency of the seasons
;hiring six centuries has most happily and skilfully worn
away the bronze, the thick lineaments of the clumsy Nor-
man horse arc become airy and light; the rider sits less
heavily upon his steel : for the first time, perhaps, since
the creation of the world, time has bethought itself of em-
bellishing.
"is it an enchantment? What—the Palace of the
Louvre more fresh and brilliant than when it was first con-
structed! It is there that you place, as it were in a kind
of terrestrial Elysium, nien eminently useful to their coun-
try, who have neglected their own fortunes; the learned,
and artists, whose genius has opened out new paths ; and
poets, whose independent voice has sung of liberty, glory,
and virtue.

" By a fortunate alliance of genius and its productions,
you have placed within the same precincts your Institute,
au everlasting focus of knowledge, and that national
library, the most complete collection of human wisdom
that has ever been funned.

" But, pray, what is the meaning of that dismal drapery
hanging above one of windows of that pavilion? You
shudder on pronouncing the name of the third son of
Mtdicis. You were in the right, my children, to preserve
that dreadful remembrance. But let us draw near; I wish
to examine closer that bas-relief wrought in Carrara mar-
ble, which ornaments the lower part of the fatal balcony :
—Charts IX. perishing by the same death as Sylla, as
Philip 11. The spectres of slaughtered Protestants rise
up on all rides about him. Wretched King !—He raises
himself half up on his bloody couch ! In vain door he
turn away his head with terror, and his hair stand on end ;
in vain dots he endeavour with his fleshless arm to re-
move those spectres armed with daggers. All of them
strike him at once ; his blood gushes out on all sides; he
falls again—he struggles for a moment, and expires in the
convulsions of despair !—What a sublime thought ! What
admirable execution ! May you be happy, any dear chil-
dren ! you, who have learned in your perfected civiliza-
tion, to intermingle the great lessons of philosophy with
the masterpieces of the arts.
" Do you observe at the end of that closed passage a
common sewer heaped over with ruins? Your antiqua-
rians are puzzling themselves with researches, in order to
guess what may have been formerly the destination of the
monuments, the ruins of which are now lying before our
eyes: I can inform you of it—in my time there existed
here a kind of subaltern inquisition, a true sink of base-
ness, of corruption, and of cowardice. This establishment
was founded upon the frightful principle of bestowing
upon vice the superintendence of vice, erecting an office
for the hiring of informers, and keeping up an army oft
agents, of whom the name alone was a cruel outrage.
" After having followed, within the space of a short
league, the winding course of the Seined we arc now arrived
before that imperishable column formed out of the brass of
battles, and which, after the lapse of six centuries, still
recalls to your mind the military glory of your ancestors.
This ancient testimony of so many prodigies well deserved
to occupy the centre of this inapriticent square of your fore-
fathers, each edifice of which is a kind of temple rai,ed to
the memory of men who have conferred the greatest lustre
upon their country, at all perioßs of our history.
" You have kept up, by embellishing them, those Boule-
vards, which form, as in my time, a verdant circle round
this immense capital. They arc undoubtedly still fru-
queatod by industry on foot, and by insolence in its car-
riage: there are certain traits of character inherent in the
nature of man in society, which never undergo any change.

" I now feel myself upon my own ground, and can
therefore venture to act as vour guide: let us ascend to the
left; this long avenue will lead us to Montmartre, and
thence we may contemplate the double view, so new to me,
of old and new Paris.

" On one side, the bustle and noise of a large city ; on
the other, the dead silence of ruins! What a contrast!
But there is another still more worthy of the attention of
the spectator : On that spot there formerly existed a people
absolutely fickle in affairs of importance, and obstinate in
trifles ; a vain nation, but without national pride; anx-
ious for change, without loving liberty ; endowed with- the
finest gifts of nature, but incapable of baking use of them.
At each step was to be seen the beggaf In rags, supplicat-
ing 11.7 alms at the door of the hard-hearted rich man : the
weak oppressed by the powerful ; genius struggling with
want ; and talent constrained to submit to degradation by
' accepting the wages of opulence.
" Ilere there exists a new nation ; every subject bears
the impression of grandeur, strength, and security. I no
longer hear the watch-word of the sentinels, the supplies-
lion of misery, nor the accents of menace.—May it not be
I an illusion ? I sec a nation free and tranquil, victorious
1 and prudent, laborious and rich, cultivating the sciences
through taste, and the arts from affection ! the nobles sim-
ple and modest ; a nation mild and proud ; gaiety without
riot, justice without law-suits, and laws without scaffolds!'
Happy Parisians of the city of the west, *by has destiny,
which disposes of the fate of mankind, interposed six cen-
turies
between your birth and mine ?
" You are in a hurry to descend this hill; and you make
me recollect that we took our walk with the intention of
discovering the spot where I dwelt. I see by the inscrip-
tion on this military column that you now call the North-!
ern Hill, that spot which your ancestors used emphatically
to call Montmartre, without knowing, after having dis- 1
puttsl about it for fifteen centuries, whether this name, not
very euphonic, derived its origin front the Hod Mars, She
Martyrs, or the Virgin Mary.
" I am delighted, my dear children, at par having
preserved to this beautiful avenue of trees, intermingled
with some habitations of the most agreeable uniformity,
the chinning name of Larochefoucault. The memory of
the benefactors of mankind is adored by you: you deserve
that they should have innumerable imitators among you.
" You have realised to its utmost extent the project that
was formed some hundred years ago, of establishing on
this spot a new Athens ; and it brings to my mind the most!
agreeable recollections. The greatest dramatic actor of
former centuries built these elegant porticoes: near him,
the rival of the Clairol], the Dumenil breathed forth her
tragic griefs—this small house was constructed after the
model of that inhabited by a painter, who united in him-
self the brilliant renown of his father and grandfather. I
think lan perceive under this very peristyle, respected
by time itself, a female whom nature seems to have created
to represent upon the stage of Moliere the image and idea
of perfection. Preserve these honourable recollections;
meh, Whose talents have elevated the soul, and exalted the
mind, by inspiring their fellow-creatures with warm and
noble emotions, well deserve the homage of posterity.
" Arrived at the foot of the hill, we leave on the right
Ia magnificent palace : another time you shall give me an
account of its new owner; in the Ttean while, may God,
in his merciful coinpession grant peace to the soul of that
detestable minister whom thesel places recall to my mind !
1 You have destroyed that edifice of bad taste which he had
constructed, upon this spot out of the money which his
venal eloquence extracted from the public treasury : fear
not to trample beneath your feet the last vestiges of a pea-
-1 tiecrons sod merciless being, who oppressed the people,
overturned the laws, founded his policy upon corruption,
and obtained his power by every degree of infamy.
" Let us stop a moment in this kind of park, formed
upon the model of one I recollect having seen at Brussels.
Do you perceive that little chapel in the Grecian style co-
vered with ivy, and shaded over by an old, wild, laurel-
tree ? Draw near to it with sacred respect : put aside the
branch which conceals the pediment of that little monu-
ment, and read—VoLTAIRE•

" I.et us proceed a few steps farther : we are now upon
the very arot where I built my small house. Purchase a
few yards of this ground ; exeavate it—l deposited here,
in a vase of Sevres, medals of the most celebrated men of
all ages, am! all Countries. Should you meet with those
of Voltaire, Washington, Franklin, Newton, and Rous-
seau, you will less regret the want of the rest. All the
powers of genius. talent, and virtue, united together in
the formatiot. of these five individuals: the excellence of
human nature could go no farther._ _ _

" It was here, my dear grandchildren, that, after having
spent nty
.youth upon the seas, among distant nations, and
in the midst of camps—after having been tossed about
through all the tempests of a dreadful revolution—l ex-
pected to find, in the peaceable cultivation of philosophy
and the belles-lettres, a repose purchased with so many fa-
tigues and vicissitudes.
" That house which is opposite to us, and where we can
see a crowd of children abandoning themselvis in a large
play-ground, to the noisy games of their age, is a school.
I might probably wake you laugh at your ancestors were I
to tell you, that education in the 19th century was con-
fined, with respect to a boy born in Gaul, to the study of
the human Language, dead for 15 or 16 hundred years;
and that the Same young man, who, upon the faith of
Quintus Curtius, recited with a placid countenance, the
history, or rather the romance, of Alexander, was ignorant
whether the Seine flowed as far as Rouen, or whether the
Lys was not a river of Egypt.
However, it is but right to inform you, that in this
respect our revolution had brought about wonderful im-
provements: the necessity of developing the moral and
physical strength of children, and of educating them to
become men and citizens, began to be felt. l'erbapio 1 may
another time have an opportunity_ of informing you what
concurrence of circumstances suddenly put a stop to their 11
I progress, and caused instruction to retrograde to its former
collegiate system.
" The wonderful influence of the epoch in which I lived
over your future destinies, is a sum guarantee to me of the
interest with which those men inspire you, who have illus.'
traded it by their characters, actions, and talents; there-
fore you will not be sorry to be informed, that beyond that
gravelly plat, where the young scholars are assembled to-
gether, to the extremity of that alley of trees now shoot-
ing forth their leaves to those of the trees of my garden,
stands the modest abode where, for many years, dwelt the cursor. I
dinary man who governed France, subjtmated the throne. and as-
tonished the world not less by his misfortunes titan by his pros.
pretty. issuing from this cradle of his glory, to ascend a throne,
this conqueror was precipitated from it, as it were by a tlinnderbolt,
after having tired victory and fortune for the space of fifteen years.
The vengeance of his enemies banished him to a rock is the In-
dian (keen, where death soon put an end to the most glorious and
moat fatal career that ever man was destined to ierform. Tome
generous friends accompanied him in his exile: one of them, eqally
celebrated for his science in the military art as fur his sublime de-
votion, now inhabits that pavilion, where all the objects by which
he is surrouaded, must, at every step, recall to his remembrance
his august friend.
" Fically, to make yon fully acquainted with my neighbours. I
have now only. to mention • friend of the great Malesherbes, a
philosophic writer, with whom I am connected by esteem and friend.
ship. He is the elder of two brothers—he will leave everlasting
memorials behind him; time preserves the names of those only who
have laboured for the happiness of mankind. My illustrious neigh.
bour,unatrected but discerning, venerable and sincere, eloquent and
simple, easy of intercourse, indulgent towards the failings of others,
but severe to himself, presents the most honourable remains of the
noble age in which he was educated. The storms of the revolution,
the brilliant allurements of the empire, the hopes of an order of
things more conformable to his wishes, never could induce him to
deviate, for one moment, from that line of steady principles which
he had traced out for himself. Ever circumspect, ever independent,
and always the citizen, he was, if I may so expr,!ss myself, lie
representative and the model of the man of lettera in ell its
dignity, at • time when the learned and literary crowd had her.
nessed itself so basely to the ear of power and of fortune."

FINE AIITS.—The jury appointed to examine the paint-
ings to be admitted into the Ilallery of the Louvre, for
public exposition this year, which opens on the 25tli
inst. have rejected 390 out of 780. This severe scrutiny
promises the amateurs a choice selection.—Ten paintings
have been exposed at the Palais des Beaux Arts, as coin-
imitors for the prize granted by the A mdciny ; the subject
is the Death of Alcibiades. The subject is beautiful, but
perhaps above the powers of young artists ; and not
one of the paintings have met the expectations of the
public.
The lifeless corpse of Mr. Francis ifFlaherty, eldest
son of Mr. I i'llaberty, of Garomue was found in his room
a few days since, to which he had previously retired in
perfect health and spirits. The contents of a fowling-
piece, which lay upon the table, and which it is siippms,ll
lie was preparing fur sport, were found discharged into his
body.