still more general and comprehensive in our suggestions,-it will be necessary to legislate with an eye not only to the poor and the industrial classes, but with a combining and fraternizing spirit with respect to the other orders of society, before we can hope to witness a parliamentary paramount influence, so as materially to hasten the adjustments required in the social condition of the entire community.

Art. III.-The Courts of Europe at the Close of the last Century. By the late HENRY SWINBURNE, ESQ. Edited By CHARLES WHITE, Esq. 2 vols. London: Colburn. 1841.

HENRY SWINBURNE was of an old Roman Catholic family, and born in 1752. He received his education at a monastic institution in France. He then made the tour of Europe, and became the author of "Travels in Spain, Italy," &c. The contents of the present volumes consist of letters extending over many years,commencing in 1774 and continuing till the day immediately before his death, which took place in Trinidad, in 1803, in consequence of a coup de soleil.

Mr. Swinburne was a gentleman, a scholar, a virtuoso, and an amateur-artist; all which is to be considered in connexion with his knowledge of France, Germany, the West Indies, &c., that knowledge consisting not merely of what any one may gather when galloping over much and varied ground in country and town, but of what is restricted to aristocratic life and royal circles. Accordingly, scenery, the external appearance of things in general and of communities, together with the accounts of amusements and works of art, of Sovereigns, their Ministers, and their Courts,-of the fashionable world both at home and on the continent, as well as anecdotes and sketches of men famous in their day, are crowded into the volumes, with the ease which a person who writes to relatives and friends as the topics pass before him, but without the slightest idea of publication, is naturally master of; and with the polish and the taste which high accomplishment and constant mingling with the best or most refined society necessarily beget. Nor is this all in the present instance; For Mr. Swinburne, although unthoughtful of effort, or of dipping deep into abstruse questions, political and scientific, was acute and in the habit of judging for himself; and therefore with his experience and elegant erudition, his pictures of what he saw or of what he read, have more of power as well as of fidelity in them than the flow of his descriptive, and the character of his discursive, treatment may at first be thought to possess. Indeed he gives us some of the truest and most striking representations of remarkable phases and transitions in high places and in nations, that we remember to have exa

mined; although the lighter materials, such as anecdotes and facetiæ either predominate, or are constantly occurring.

No where so much as at the several times when Mr. Swinburne visited or resided in France do we find his vivid sketches strike us. And these several times too refer not only to very distinct aspects and individuals, but paint as it were a series of subjects, each standing clearly out, or worthy of being precisely marked, as if in the progress of a drama; the painter producing by a number of touches carelessly lent and often apparently of slight character, an expressive whole. When we say that the author of these letters was not only in Paris during the last illness and the death of Louis the Fifteenth, but was shortly before presented at court,-that Mrs. Swinburne had frequent private interviews with Marie Antoinette, and was patronized by her majesty, and also that Mr. Swinburne was appointed by our government to proceed to Paris at the close. of the Reign of Terror, to negotiate with the Directory for an exchange of prisoners, it will at once be evident that he had opportunities of looking at France at significant and critical periods. Nor did the omens at the first escape his discerning eye, nor the eyes of those with whom he came into contact in that country, and who were more directly concerned in the terrible events which were hatching or on the eve of development.

We shall first take some glimpses of France, beginning with the court in 1774, and with a levee. The Duke of Dorset was a presentee along with Mr. Swinburne.

"About cleven, the introductors gave notice of the King's levee being ready; and so, in company of a German baron, we trudged up stairs, and surprised his Most Christian Majesty in his waistcoat; for none but the family Ambassadors may see him in buff.

"After staring at us, talking about the opera with some few of the crowds of courtiers, and saying about one minute's prayer with his Cardinal, he drew towards us, who were ranged near the door in rank and file. All he said was, Est-il fils du vieux Duc de Dorset, que j'ai connu autrefois?' and so marched off. However as they talked much to others who stood near us, I can describe them better from this view than from the subsequent

one.

"The Dauphin [Louis the Sixteenth] is very awkwardly made and uncouth in his motions. His face resembles his grandfather's, but he is not near so handsome, though he has by no means a bad countenance. His nose is very prominent, his eyes are grey, and his complexion is sallow. He seemed cheerful and chatty, and I think his aspect bespeaks a goodnatured man. The second brother [Louis the Eighteenth] is a pretty figure; and so is the third, [Charles the Tenth,] only his mouth is rather wide, and drawn up in the middle to the top of the gums.

"They are not yet quite formed as to legs and strength; and have all a good deal of that restless motion, first upon one leg and then upon another, which is also remarkable in some members of the English Royal Family.

"The questions they ask seem very frivolous and puerile. I believe they find their time hang very heavy on their hands; for they ran with great glee to tickle one of the Kings valets de chambre as he was carrying out the King's dirty clothes."

But there are other visitings:

"Our next trot was to the Dauphin; who said nothing. The same silence reigned at the levee of his brothers, as to our share at least. The Comtesse de Provence is a little dumpy woman, and but a plain piece of goods her sister, the Comtesse d'Artois, is rather prettier, having a fine skin and tolerable eyes: but her nose is immense, and her toes are turned in. Poor thing! she seemed quite frightened, and could hardly speak.

"I did intend to reserve Madame du Barré for the bonne bouche; but it must be the Dauphiness, [Marie Antoinette,] who quite won my heart. I can give you no account of her particular features; but her air, eyes, shape, motion, her tout ensemble, were most charming. She spoke so cheerfully, and so casily, comme si elle se sentait, as the French say—

'Elle avoit une grace,

Un je ne sais quoi qui surpasse

De l'amour les plus doux appas.'

From her we passed to the three not Graces, but any other trio_you may think would suit them: I mean the King's daughters. The Dauphin's sisters were not visible."

The round of calls is not yet finished :

"After all these perambulations up stairs and down stairs through the Royal Family, we climbed up a dark winding staircase, which I should have suspected would have led to an apartment of the Bastile, rather than to the temple of love and elegance. In a low entresol we found the favourite sultana, in her morning-gown, her capuchin on, and her air undressed she was very gracious, and chatted a good deal, as every body else seemed to do at Versailles, about the opera. I could hardly refrain from laughing at an involuntary exclamation from my brother presentee, the Duke; whose mistress, Mrs. Parsons, has, you know, been long out of her teens. 'Good heavens!' said his Grace in a whisper to me, why her bloom is quite past.'

"She is of a middling age, just plump enough, her face rather upon the yellow leaf, her eyes good, and all her features regular; but I cannot think her a pleasing figure now, whatever she may have been, or may be still, when made up and decked out in her pride."

Leaving Madame du Barré, and coming down to 1789, the society in which Mr. Swinburne moved was still exclusive and exalted, and the old regime nominally predominating. But the power of the court was gone or about to be cruelly crushed. Gloom was fast gathering around the throne and filling the chambers of royalty, so that even the lovely and once gay queen of Louis the Sixteenth was spiritless and had dark forebodings, finding herself

too much bereft of the power to befriend Mrs. Swinburne who had proceeded to Paris to forward the interests of the family with regard to certain West Indian property, and also to secure the patronage for her son which had been promised. The following passages are touching and filled with melancholy predictions:

"I had an audience of the Queen two days ago: she is very much altered and has lost all her brilliancy of look. She was more gracious than ever, and said, 'Vous arrivez dans un mauvais moment, chère Madame Swinburnę. Vous ne me trouverez point gaie; j'ai beaucoup sur le

cœur.'

"She is very low-spirited and uneasy about her son, who, by all accounts, lies dangerously ill, and is not likely to recover. She inquired kindly after all our family, and assured me she should consider Harry as under her care; and also spoke of our business, which Madame Campan had told her was my reason for now returning to France.

"Je crains,' said she, 'que dans ce moment je ne pourrai vous être d'aucune utilité; mais si les tems deviennent meilleurs, vous savez que je n'oublie jamais mes amis.'

"Apropos of that: I find it was by her desire that the Luzernes have shown us so much attention.

"The whole tenor of her conversation was melancholy, but she said little about public affairs: her child's illness seemed uppermost in her mind. The tears, which I with difficulty restrained in her presence, gushed from me as soon as I had quitted the room. She told me she should like to see me again soon. Poor thing! her kindness and sorrowful manner made me more interested and enthusiastic about her than ever."

At last,

"When I had obtained my passports for myself and maid, I asked to take leave of the Queen: and the interview was granted; which is a great favour, for she sees no one. She received me graciously, even kindly; and the manner in which she spoke of my son was calculated to set my heart at ease concerning him. She wished me every happiness. 'Vous allez dans votre heureuse famille,' said she, dans un pays tranquille, où la calomnie et la cruauté ne vous poursuivront pas. Je dois vous porter envie.'

"I ventured a few words of consolation, hinting that times were now improving, and that her popularity and happiness would be restored. She shook her head. We were alone. I know not how I was worked up to it, or had courage to make the proposal, but I did so, that if she thought herself in danger, my services were at her command, and that she could come with me to England in the disguise of my maid, whom I could easily dispose of by sending her under some pretext to her friends at St. Germain. She thanked me, and smiled faintly, but said nothing would induce her to leave her family. She added, that she had refused other offers of the same sort. 'Besides,' and she looked round, 'si je voulais, cela ne se pourroit pas; il y a trop d'espions.'

VOL. I. (1841.) No. IV.

L L

Mention has been made of Mr. Swinburne's mission to Paris at a still later epoch. Before going further it may be proper however to state that Mr. White, the author of "The Belgic Revolution," and the editor of these volumes, has prefixed a Life of the negotiator with the Directory, from which it appears that the writer of the Letters thought that his services were neither duly rewarded by the English ministry, nor sufficiently prolonged. Without pretending to be in a position to decide how far the employer and his friends may have judged fairly in such a case, we cannot help noticing how much Mr. Swinburne's sagacity and acuteness were at fault when he came to judge of the measures of parties whom he fancied had neglected him, his general views becoming coloured accordingly. For example in 1801, he thus expresses himself. "I am told there is a great jumble in the ministerial pot. The king taxes Pitt with duplicity; the Pittites complain of the speaker, &c. Never was this or any other nation in such a hobble. France at liberty to turn her victorious arms towards us; a northern confederacy; our allies all cowed; the Egyptian expedition probably failed; the ports of all the world shut against us; a French fleet out against either Egypt or the West Indies; Ireland full of inflammables; a weak administration: -this is only a partial sketch of our present situation," How similar is all this to some much later croakings and prophesyings on the part of persons out of office! and how sweepingly do events contradict the calculations of men! But to return to the Letters, and for a moment to France immediately after the overthrow of Robespierre, and when the effects of the most frightful whirlwind that had ever swept over a civilized nation were palpable and gross, not only in the prevailing manners of the multitude, but in the general external appearance of everything, as well as in the cast of mind and the body of the nation's thoughts. No wonder that he who had beheld Europe and its courts in their highest state of polish and refinement, should have been shocked at the transformation, and incapable of writing a letter without marking his feelings; or that again he should hail with the associations of remembered delight, the rapid return which elastic and mercurial Frenchmen made to refinement and frivolity, the moment that public tranquillity afforded them a breathing and the safe exercise of their wonted pastimes and forms. We should say, indeed, that however democratical may be the Frenchman's theory, however hot his rage for change or for levelling to an inferior equality all ranks of the nation, there are yet elements in his nature and in the nation, as every where else, for rearing and fenc ing a predominating party, and an exclusive class. But let us have a glance of concentrated France at a particular era of transition :

"I send you two prints of the present dresses of Paris done by Vernet's