revenues; it proposes the subjects to be submitted to the deliberation of the Great Council, and all the propositions relative to the laws. All matters are discussed in common, and carried by the majority, which does not prevent some special commissions, such as a Secret Council, charged more particularly with the care of the police, political negociations, and those affairs which require more than usual discretion. The Council of War, in which the levy of troops and orders concerning military service and discipline are decided, is also a particular commission in the Council of State.

The state revenues are considerable, in comparison with the other Can tons of Switzerland. The greatest part of the revenue consists in the property belonging to the State, in quit rents and tenths. This last tax, which the State raises upon its lands, as proprietor, is rather a rent than a tax; some private property is, in reality, in the same situation, and the people prefer, in this country, so moderate a tax, the receipt of which being always proportioned to the harvest is as simple and easy as other methods are expensive. There are also indirect taxes at Berne; and the toll duties, which existed under the old government, are also exacted under the new, as well as the rents, the produce of which, according to our author, is considerable.

The government of Berne, though in general unfavourable to modern inventions, does not appear inimical to that of tolls, which have proved very beneficial to the State. Besides the old duties that have been re-established, the government has created new ones. That upon timber is most certainly an abundant source of riches to the Exchequer. Another concession to the opinions of the age, which the government appears, to our author, to have made, is the zeal with which it encourages a military spirit, as prevalent as that in the other Helvetic Republics.

The events which occasioned the fall of the Confederation have made Berne, as well as the other Cantons, feel the necessity of maintaining a more respectable, regular, and permanent inilitary force. "It does

not become me," the author modestly says, "to blame precautions, too well justified by the reverses this Republic has already met with." Passing by the principal question, he is not sure whether, in the end, the Canton of Berne may not experience more inconveniences than advantages in these military establishments. The national militia of this Canton is composed of eight battalions of 800 men each-in all, 6,400 men. These battalions are exercised by turns, at Berne, where they form a garrison for a short time, and only receive pay during their service. Now, it appears to the author, that if the consequence of this service is to produce more uniformity in military instruction, and more regularity in manœuvres, yet these corps must also contract vices incompatible with agricultural inclinations and occupations. To keep alive public spirit in the Canton, and that is, in truth, the best safe-guard of the State, is it not better to concentrate the means of instruction in the Capital, rather than run the risk of infecting the population of the country? Would it not be more natural, wiser, and more conformable to their ancient maxims, which were those of liberty, that the local inhabitant should be exercised in the defence of his own fire-side, without ever losing sight of it, with the exception of the officers, who stand more in need of a war-like education, and who can more easily do without morality than the soldier? The people of Berne are naturally war-like; and that martial spirit which laid the foundation of their State, contributed to its growth, and which, in our days, retarded its fall, is too generally spread throughout the higher classes of society, to be in danger of falling off. Foreign service gives the Bernese youth the means of acquiring practical instruction, which could not be acquired at their own houses; and this, no doubt, would be sufficient, if the Republic always maintained an excellent school for officers; as good soldiers amongst the lower class would be found, who would be the more willing to devote themselves to their country, if their affec

tions were not alienated from their families. The government of Berne ought, then, to strengthen public spirit, by a better organization of the lower class, rather than form garrisons and people barracks,— a reform more easily effected there than in other States, because the foundation of it is already laid.

A people long estranged from public affairs, by a rigorous aristocracy, is able to take any interest in them, proportioned to the part allotted by the Constitution; but, whether through long habit or a confidence (without doubt justifiable), this people do not seem disposed to enjoy all their rights, and it is now its indifference that must be overcome after their liberty is well secured. Here, as in Friburgh, the Electoral Assemblies are little frequented. The countryman, unwillingly, goes to the Council, and it is with great repugnance that he quits his cart to place himself at the helm of the State. Even those, with whom patriotism supplies the place of ambition, and who consent to quit the government of their farms for that of the Republic, are satisfied with paying the tribute of submission to the laws of their country, instead of enlightening it with their knowledge, and vote servilely, and, in spite of themselves, are more attached to old recollections than new prerogatives. This disposition, though honourable in itself, ought to give way to public interest; and if the magistrates do not abuse the confidence of the people, the people, in their turn, ought to justify the confidence of the magistrates. It appeared to the author, that if the disquiet, which there, as well as in France, was the necessary consequence of a long and violent shock, had not ceased with the cause that produced it, the letter of the law not being till now precisely established, the meaning which might have been given to it, and the use that might have been made of it by a thousand petty in terests and passions, might have created a revolution in one day, that years only could have quelled. A secret discontent pervades every order of the State. The noble families, whose glory is confounded with

that of the old government, proba bly regret a diet which was so favourable to their aggrandisement and that of the Republic; and, if considered dispassionately, these regrets may be more patriotic than they appear interested. The nobles of Berne may well think, without injustice, that a Constitution, under which their country was free, flourishing, and respectable, for five centuries, was not, in reality, vicious; and our author thinks, that the majority of the citizens, if they were permitted to express their wish, would willingly return to a Constitution, which procured them the rights and advantages of a free people.

The heads of the State, more united here than at Friburgh, would not counteract the will of the people, but they govern with the majority of the Councils, who have not the same inclination. On the other hand, the poorer citizens, who are, perhaps, more susceptible of popular spirit than the nobles are of regrets for the old order of things, are but little satisfied with their share in the new Constitution, as a recompense for the loss of numerous petty offices occasioned by the separation of the Pays-de-Vaud and Argovia. More interest in the Council is required; but private interest here, as well as elsewhere, is concealed under the pretext of public good. The citizens of Berne, as well as Friburgh, openly aspire to a Democratical Constitution ; and though, in these two Republics, the majority of the government, as well as the people, repel this, there is always a vague and disquiet feeling, which prevents the prosperity and happiness of the State. The jealousy and distrust which the different orders manifest towards each other, spread weakness and timidity in the Councils, and causes a sort of uneasiness in the political body.— It is difficult to foretell what will be the result of these struggles between contrary interests and prejudices. Another source of embarrassment to the government of Berne is the acquisition of the Catholic part of the bishoprick of Basle, in virtue of the new regulations of the Congress of Vienna. The difficulty of

reconciling the interests of a Cathotic country with a Protestant Administration, and the disagreement of the two religious creeds, add every day fresh obstacles to a government already sufficiently controlled in its proceedings.

The progress of knowledge, if in reality it has made any progress, has had no influence on the morals of the people, and, perhaps, these two things have nothing in common. The morals of the Bernese are what they were before the Revolution, and, it appears, that the Republic, or rather the heads of the government were never at any period very strict in their principles. It does not appear, since the distant period of 1414, that reform has given to the people many virtues in exchange for their former credulity. Incredulity is no rare thing at Berne, and profligacy is no less common. Few strangers have visited this city and not convinced themselves of the truth of these facts, in that quarter of the town which is built upon the borders of the Aar, where the baths are situated. It is very remarkable, that Berne, which is equal in this respect to the most enlightened Capitals of Europe, produced, perhaps, the first atheist. The author here recollects having read in the works of the celebrated historian Muller, that one Loefeer, who, to use Muller's own words, professed that opinion which is called atheism, was burnt in 1375, at the request of the official of the bishop. When he was conducted to the place of execution, with all the ceremouy usual in such cases, "My friend," said he to the executioner, "there is not wood enough;" and he died with the same indifference. What more can the philosophers of the nineteenth century do, says the author, than the freethinkers of the fourteenth have already done!

The author terminates his interesting account of Berne, by a description of the fête celebrated on the anniversary of the battle of Laupen, fought on the 25th of June, 1339. On the eve of the day, the people assemble in a large field, and celebrate, with music and patriotic songs, the annual return of this interesting festival. At the break of day, the whole multitude set off, with the sound of instruments and

shouts of public joy. Children, women, and old men, present the affecting union of every age, as well as every wish, with love of liberty and their country. Even the confusion that necessarily prevails in so large a multitude increases the interest of the spectacle:-no bayonets, which intimidate rather than protect the peaceful citizens, are to be seen: they all walk at their ease, with no other order than what nature prescribes to every age. Flowers are in every hand, and songs in every mouth; and in all this long procession there is but one weapon, the sword, which, in the hands of the hero of Laupen, had dispersed the enemies of the State.

Arrived at the sacred field of battle, after having silently indulged those feelings which it must naturally excite, they assemble round the venerable pastor, whose sacred mouth alone is thought worthy to recount the particulars of the glorious victory. His simple harangue produces a profound impression upon his hearers; and when they hear, for the thousandth time, the details which they learned in their infancy, the emotion of every heart is painted on every face. The sword of Rodolph d'Erlach, carried by the chief of this illustrious house, was raised over the field of battle, that all eyes may behold the instrument of public liberty; and the hand of the pastor crowns it with laurels, in the midst of the acclamations of the people, and every one bows before the trophy of Laupen. Why should these scenes give rise to painful as well as tender emotions? History records, with grief, that some time after the battle of Laupen, when the saviour of Berne retired to his fields, like the Roman Consuls, enjoying the respect of his fellow-citizens, he was assassinated by his son-in-law, with that very sword which was hung on the wall of his apartment; but the stain imprinted on the steel is lost in the splendid renown which has for so many ages attended the fame of the hero of Laupen.

"It is by such fêtes," judiciously observes the author, " celebrated in several parts of Switzerland, that these wise Republicans formerly kept alive the sacred fire of patriotism in the bosom of rising generations; it is by endeavouring

IN estimating therefore the relative merits of any poet, we must never take into consideration whether he possesses the wit of Swift, the humour of Smollet, the classical correctness of Pope, the occasional strength and energy of Dryden, the sublimity of Milton, the enthusiasm of Homer, the tenderness of Virgil, the courtly refinement of Horace, the judgment of Quintillian, the elegance of Politian, the fire and rapidity of Ariosto, the simplicity of Fontaine, the navietè of Bruyere, the philosophy of Young, or the luxuriance of Rousseau. The question to be considered in estimating his poetic excellence is, not whether he possesses all these qualities in a high degree, but whether he possess es those particular qualities which properly belong to the design and spirit of his undertaking. To what purpose would we ask whether he possessed the wit of Swift, if the nature of his subject would not suffer him to display it. Every writer imbibes a particular turn or character of mind, from the nature of the studies to which he devotes himself in his youth, while the feelings are, as I have already observed, susceptible of every impression. This cast of mind can never be supplanted by any subsequent studies, because his feelings are not afterwards so pliant in yielding to impressions of any kind. If he read tender and pathetic works, they attune his soul to congenial sympathies, and he rejects ever after through life every thing harsh and offensive to the feelings. The sensible plant is not more instantaneously affected by the touch, than such a person is by coarseness and indelicacy; and, therefore, let critics talk what they please about the versality or universality of genius, such a writer would not excel in a subject which required wit and broad humour, had nature endowed him with the collected intelligence of the human race. No genius will

enable a writer to excel in subjects which do not accord with the spirit which he imbibes from his youthful studies, and therefore the pre-eminence of every writer should be estimated by the degree of excellence, which he has attained in the particular style and line of subjects which have exercised his pen.

It may still be maintained, however, that certain subjects or styles of poetry are more congenial to our feelings than others, and that the poets who write on such subjects should rank before all others. What these subjects or styles are, I do not know, but so far as I do know, I have reason to believe that no such styles or subjects are to be found. What pleases one man, will please another, and another, though not all men; and it is evident, that on whatever subject a person writes, it must be pleasing to him, for if it were not, he would have chosen some other subject. Whatever law of our nature has rendered it pleasing to him, will render it equally so to others, and accordingly we find many prefer the wit of Hudibras, to the philosophy of Blackmore. Every style has its own class of admirers, not that they are insensible to the beauties of other styles, but that they do not find them so congenial to their own taste and genius. When one class, however, stands up and maintains that the style and manner which they admire is superior to all others, and should consequently be preferred to all others, they are only exposing their ignorance at the very moment they affect to be enlightening the world. Every style has its own charms for its own admirers: the feelings and emotions which it awakens in the breast, are those which are most congenial to their natural dispositions: other styles excite other feelings in other minds, and the highest merit of any production is, to call into existence those identical sympathies and affections, which the poet intended to create.