dations of sand; and as might be expected, when the waters came and the winds blew, the tottering fabric fell to the ground. Buonaparte, who came after, fixed his empire on a firmer foundation; it was not of sand, but of iron. Having thus firmly established his power, it would have been difficult, if not impossible, for any one to have overthrown it, had he not, by his ambition, been the destroyer of his own fortune, and lived to learn that conquests, useless to the people, may also be fatal to the monarch.

With a new government, the French not only received new laws, but obtained new opportunities of acquiring knowledge. Before the Revolution, they would probably have suffered this opportunity to escape; they were now too wise to do so; experience had taught them that obstinacy is not perseverance, that glory does not always follow conquests, that national vanity generally leads to national disgrace, and that it was possible they might improve their own laws and their own literature, by studying those of other countries. They did so, and future generations will bless their memory, for having had the good sense and the courage, (for it requires courage,) to lay aside national. prejudices, and seek for instruction and improvement wherever it might be found.

The results of this great change, not only in the literary, but in the general character of the French, are becoming daily more evident. While rejoicing, however, at the comparative freedom of thought and political liberty now enjoyed by France, it is alone to the change which has taken place in her literature that we must now turn our attention, and our confined limits compel us to do so in a very few words.199

In dramatic literature, although some approach has been made to a greater degree of freedom, the improvement has been comparatively small, and the French Drama still remains not only shackled by rhyme, but encumbered with the three unities.*

In no branch of literature is the change to which we have alluded, more strikingly appa

*The following remarks may not only throw light upon this much debated subject, but will serve as a specimen of the style of a living writer, the leader of what may be called the new school of French Literature, and a man possessed of great and original powers.

"Ce qu'il y a d'étrange, c'est que les routiniers prétendent appuyer leur règle des deux unités sur la vraisemblance, tandis que c'est précisément le réel qui la tue. Quoi de plus invraisemblable et de plus absurde en effet que ce vestibule, ce péristyle, cette antichambre, lieu banal où nos tragédies ont la complaisance de venir se dérouler, où arrivent, on ne sait comment, les conspirateurs pour déclamer contre le tyran, le tyran pour dé

rent than in history. With the exception of Bossuet's great work, and Montesquieu's admirable Sketch, there scarcely was a work, in French, deserving the name of a history, at least in the higher sense of the word. That want is now fully supplied; and the names of Guizot, of Sismondi, of Thierry, and of Mignet fully war. rant the assertion that France may ere long compete with any country, as regards the number and the value of her historical works.

In poetry also, a great and decided change has taken place. The French poets by attendclamer contre les conspirateurs, chacun à leur tour, comme s'ils s'étaient dit bucoliquement.

Alternis cantemus; amant alterna Camena.

Où a-t-on vu vestibule ou péristyle de cette sorte? Quoi de plus contraire, nous ne dirons pas à la vérité, les scolastiques en font bon marché, mais à la vraisemblance? Il résulte de-là que tout ce qui est trop caractéristique, trop intime, trop local, pour se passer dans l'antichambre ou dans le carrefour, c'est-àdire tout le drame, se passe dans la coulisse. Nous ne voyons en quelque sorte sur le théâtre que les coudes de l'action; ses mains sont ailleurs. Au lieu de scènes, nous avons des récits; au lieu de tableaux, des descriptions. De graves personnages placés, comme le chœur antique, entre le drame et nous, viennent nous raconter ce qui se fait dans le temple, dans le palais, dans la place publique, de façon que souventes fois, nous sommes tentés de leur crier: Vraiment! mais conduisez-nous donc là bas. On s'y doit bien amuser, cela doit être beau à voir! A quoi ils répondraient sans doute; Il serait possible que cela Vous amusât ou vous intéressât, mais ce n'est point là la question ;

ing hitherto too closely to rule, have frequently substituted the form for the spirit of poetry, and hence that coldness which, notwithstanding the beautiful finish of some of their compositions. pervades the works of many of the best French writers. The greatest poets of the present day, finding this defect of French poetry, rendered still more striking by a comparison with the bolder conceptions of foreign writers, seem determined to remedy the evil, and if we may judge from the beautiful and spirited productions of Lamartine, Delavigne, and Béranger, French poets will hereafter be nous sommes les gardiens de la dignité de la Melpomène frangaise.' Voilà!

"L'unité de temps n'est pas plus solide que l'unité de lieu. L'action, encadrée de force dans les vingt-quatre heures, est aussi ridicule qu'encadrée dans le vestibule. Toute action a sa durée propre comme son lieu particulier. Verser la même dose de temps à tous les événemens! appliquer la même mésure sur tout! On rirait d'un cordonnier qui voudrait mettre le même soulier à tous les pieds. Croiser l'unité de temps et l'unité de lieu comme les barreaux d'une cage et y faire pédantesquement entrer, de par Aristote, tous ces faits, tous ces peuples, toutes ees figures que la Providence déroule à si grandes masses dans la réalité! C'est mutiler hommes et choses; c'est faire grimacer l'histoire. Disons mieux; tout cela mourra dans l'opération; et c'est ainsi que les mutilateurs dogmatiques arrivent à leur résultat ordinaire; ce qui était vivant dans la chronique, est mort dans la tragédie. Voilà pourquoi, bien souvent, la cage des unités ne renferme qu'un squelette."-Cromwell, drame, par V. Huco; préface, p. xxviii.

admired, not more for the polish than for the originality of their compositions. Unfortunately, as is frequently the case in great reforms, the zeal of the reformers has sometimes exceeded their prudence, and in endeavouring to establish the claims of the new school, the Romantique, full justice has not always been done to the old school, the Classique. Let us hope, however, that this literary warfare, while it extends the views, will add to the success of future writers, and that France may at some period produce a literature which shall combine the elements of the two schools; the originality and power of the modern, as exemplified in the bold but unequal compositions of Victor Hugo and of Chateaubriand; and the correctness and polish of the old school as carried to their highest degree of perfection in the "Athalie" of Racine, and the "Télémaque" of Fénélon.