weakness of remorse, that the recollection of his traitorous defection at Lons-le-saulnier haunted him, and that he appeared, and was in reality, less completely won over to Bonaparte's cause and measures than others in his situation. It is perhaps such recollections, with those relating to the part which Ney played in the Senate, after the defeat of Waterloo, where he tore the veil from the specious picture of the French resources, with which Carnot endeavoured to impose on that assembly-it is perhaps such remembrances which dwell in Bonaparte's memory, and lead him to trample on the memory of the man who had "Put rancours in the vessel of his peace, Only for him; and his eternal jewel, Given to the common enemy of man, To make him king.”

But although Ney had the weakness, such General Gourgaud and General Gourgaud's master may consider it, to be but half villain; and although, in his retirement at his estate of Coudreaux, his inequality of temper betrayed his internal remorse, it is certain all around him remarked, that after he joined the army of Bonaparte (which was on the 11th June, at Lisle), the joy of finding himself among the troops which he had so often commanded, and the clang of arms to which his ear was so well accustomed, served to silence the feelings by which he had been agitated since his defection, and restored to him that energy of mind which was proper to his character.

Had it been otherwise than we have stated-had that moral aberration, that confusion of ideas, that propensity to blunder even in the field of battle, now imputed to Ney, really displayed themselves—is it possible a mental disease whose symptoms are particularly visible should have escaped the eye of such a keen observer as Bonaparte? Is he likely to have assigned to à hypochondriac, sinking under a sense of dishonour and remorse, the command of his army at Quatre Bras? Would it have been rational for any commander-in-chief-would it have been consistent with the character of Bonaparte in particular-to have sent to such an one a message on the morning of the 16th, by Forbin-Janson, to assure him that the "fate of France was in his hands?" Or, if Ney gave the first marks of this moral aberration during the bat

tle of Quatre Bras, and committed in that action the enormous blunders attributed to him by Gourgaud, would Bonaparte have employed his services as leader of the vanguard which was to press Wellington's retreat on the 17th, and, finally, have assigned him the most important part in the concluding tragedy of the 18th, at Waterloo? The repeated acts of undoubting and most vital confidence reposed by Bonaparte in Ney are sufficient to confute the tale of pretended imbecility now charged against him; unless, indeed, we should suppose the Ex-Emperor had adopted the policy of an old friend of ours-a man of business, as they are termed in Scotland— who put his own affairs, and those of his clients, under the charge of a mad clerk, merely because he found that the poor man's derangement formed a ready apology when any thing went

wrong.

We hold it of considerable importance to us to establish this point; because, if Ney shall be found to stand, in the law phrase, rectus in curia, we have a title to adduce him as a witness in the cause, and to shew, by his evidence, that Gourgaud or Bonaparte is now loading his memory with faults, which the testimony of the Marechal, while alive, charged upon Napoleon himself.

We have still to remark another peculiarity of Bonaparte's military narratives, which we recognise in Gourgaud's Relation.

As, in telling his ownstory, he was neither prone to acknowledge talents or bravery in his enemies, nor occasional errors or deficiencies in himself, as all his own schemes were held up as shewing the quintessence of military science, while the efforts of his opponents, even when most successful, were said to exhibit the blunders of ignorant novices in the art of war, there was often a load of blame to be laid somewhere, more than the shoulders of his subordinate generals could possibly bear. In such emergency, the Spoiled Child of Fortune did not (as we have already hinted) hesitate to impute the greater share of his misadventures to some freakish humour of that Deity who had once so highly favoured him. Circumstances of mere chance, the most unlikely and the most improbable, were gravely stated as having impeded the success of his wisest mea

of Europe called upon to tremble at the risk they incurred, as set forth in these veracious pages,-(Poor Lord Castlereagh, how pale he will look!) Every preliminary advantage had been gained which could ensure victory; all superiority on the side of the allies had been counterbalanced by the talents of the French general-"All the probabilities of victory were for the French-all was combined-all foreseen. But what can the greatest genius against destiny?-Napoleon was CONQUERED."That's something yet-we were afraid, by the exordium, that we might have reached a worse termination. We would advise General Gourgaud to think over this admission again, when we hope to see him cancel it in a future edition, and adopt a conclusion more worthy of the premises. Why not say he was conqueror? The assertion would sound a great deal better, and surprise no one who had read his account of the previous circumstances. At present, the story comes ill off, and terminates like that of the brave duellist, who took off his hat with the grace of a prince, made his salute handsomely, threw himself into an attitude equally firm and imposing, and—was disarmed at the first pass.

The preface concludes (comme de raison) with a tribute to the misfortunes of Napoleon. Twelve lines and a half of exclamations exhaust all that long Roman, pica, and the whole compositor's box, can do to express his sorrows, and they are followed by a whole host of asterisks,-sable stars, whose fatal influence infers things too horrible for types to explain. The whole is rounded by the pathetic interrogation,

Ah! Napoleon, que n'as tu trouvé la mort à Waterloo!"

We can only reply, it might have been had for little seeking.

(To be continued.)

IS THE EDINBURGH REVIEW A RELIGIOUS AND PATRIOTIC WORK?

WE are aware that our strictures on the political and religious principles of the Edinburgh Review have lately caused much discussion among the readers of that domineering Journal. As far as we can learn, the justice of

those strictures has not been denied, except by the furious or fatuous menials in the service of that establishment; and the sole objection ever made to them by competent and impartial judges has been, that they were expressed with too great vehemence. The majority, however, of the rightthinking and well-informed, have little or nothing to say against us, even on that score; for they see no reason why a tame and feeble courtesy should be observed towards writers, who have, for so long a time, dismissed ordinary decorum from their own attacks, and who have struck terror into the fainthearted by a system of warfare, marked by the most unsparing ferocity. Yet it is piteous to hear the impotent outcries of the hewers of wood and the drawers of water-for never does slavery seem so abject as when the slaves themselves are heard howling in hypocritical sorrow or sympathy with the masters whom they yet hate within their hearts.

The religious principles of the Edinburgh Review have not been severely condemned by us alone, they have been loudly reprobated by many of the highest Intellects in church and state, and long murmured at by the suppressed voice of almost all the reading population of Britain. We pretend not to have made any discovery-but merely to have given utterance, with boldness and freedom, to an universal feeling; and had we entertained any doubts of the truth of our convictions, they must have been confirmed by the impotent anger of the low-the silent approval of the wise-and the constrained acquiescence of the accused themselves.

It will not be thought by any upright and intelligent mind, that we can have any other motive for calling the attention of the public to the sceptical, and too often infidel, character of the Edinburgh Review, than a sincere desire to benefit the cause of truth. We wish, more particularly, to put young speculative minds on their guard against the delusive subtleties of that insidious infidelity-for nothing has such charms for them as philosophical discussion, especially when it seeks to overthrow ancient prejudices, and invests the stripling student with the proud character of a discoverer. It would be a gross and fatal mistake indeed, to think that, because the

Edinburgh Review may contain but few papers written expressly against the Christian religion, it is therefore not an antichristian work. The age would not have suffered a more open infidelity. But the Edinburgh Review has done its mischievous work by longcontinued scepticism, on every subject connected either with religion, or with religious establishments-by crafty insinuations against the intellectual character of almost all those who have devoted their lives to the service of Christ-by an eternal sneering at priests and priestcraft-by unsparing sarcasms against hypocrisy, bigotry and enthusiasm, qualities most unjustifiably assumed to have been the characteristics of many sincere, learned, and strenuous Christians (while, at the same time, not only was quarter, but praise, given to that which was called liberality, forsooth, and the spirit of true philosophy, but which was too often the mere blundering presumption of ignorance, or the darker treachery of disbelief)by ridiculing almost all efforts to extend the empire of Christianity, and by talking of it, on such occasions, merely as an excellent and rational moral system to be introduced among the nations, only after they had been enlightened by civil polity-by end less eulogies on the genius and erudition of infidel writers, in which the -faint censure of their principles shewed how completely those principles were approved-by raising up objections to the truth of revelation, without any attempt to remove them out of the way, but, on the contrary, with an apparent hope, that they might lie as stumbling-blocks to the feet of the rash and unwary-by eager exultation over all the bad reasonings of injudicious or ignorant champions of the true faith-and finally, by the frequent approval of the lowest blasphemies, and most disgusting obscenities of men, who could see nothing in the most awful mysteries of Christi anity, but a subject of licentious merriment and derision.*

Now we deny altogether that such a line of conduct as this was worthy of

See, especially, the Review of Wilkes' Correspondence, where one of the most atrocious pieces of blasphemy and obscenity that ever was written and that by a father to his daughter-is talked of as a harmless piece of pleasantry.”

Philosophers. If the Edinburgh Reviewers disbelieved Christianity, they should have scorned to shew that disbelief, except by the utterance of high argument addressed to the intellect of speculative men. They might think Christianity false but they could not but think it still glorious-and they should have scorned to imitate or applaud the baseness of those who feared that Chistianity might be true, and who assailed it only because its faith was too lofty to suit their grovelling natures, and its precepts too pure to be reconciled with their grovelling lives.

The great talent displayed in the Edinburgh Review-and the personal respectability of its chief conductorssunk many minds into unconscious prostration, whom nature might have destined for freedom and independence. It became fashionable among young men of imputed talents to be sceptical on all matters of religion-and while they denied the infallibility of the Pope, they willingly acknowledged the infalli bility of Mr Jeffery. None but a dull, common-place, plodding man would, as they thought, accept the gift of belief at the hands of others--and it shewed spirit to be in the minority, even in Religion. The consequence has been, that a shameful ignorance of the evidences of Christianity distinguishes secular men of education in Scotland-and that they who manifestly have made up their minds to think revelation a happy imposture, could, in five minutes conversation, be made laughing-stocks by the merest Tyro in theology. Other causes have undoubtedly contributed to produce this effect so disgraceful to our national character-but it cannot be denied, that much of the evil lies with the conductors of the Edinburgh Review.

It might not have been easy to calculate the extent of this evil, had the Scotch been really a literary people. Had there been any number of original minds who adopted these cold heresies, and that cheerless unbelief, the fatal poison might have been diffused incurably through the very life-blood of the nation. It has been fortunate, that though the Edinburgh Reviewers are men of great talents, they are, with the exception of the Editor and Professor Leslie, men of no geniusand it is still more fortunate, that the few men of genius which Scot

land has lately produced have not been corrupted by their pernicious principles. Had any popular writers arisen-like Scott or Campbell, for example-who, having command over the sympathies, the affections, the passions, the imaginations, and consequently the opinions, and judgments, and belief of their countrymen, had at the same time been disciples of that spurious philosophy, there is no saying how widely the infection might have spread, and how low the deterioration of moral character might, by the wide-spread influence of their writings, have descended among the people. Genius seems rarely to hold, in our days at least, any alliance with infidelity.

The evil done by the irreligion of the Edinburgh Review has therefore been limited by the powers of its supporters. They seem to have done all the harm they could-all the harm they durst. That the poison has not sunk into the vitals of the nation, has been owing to the doses having been hurriedly and irregularly, and even fearfully administered-to the constitution of the nation having been sound and strong, and all its habits healthful and to the steady and conscientious attendance of humane and skilful physicians, whose antidotes have been knowledge and religion.

Were it in our power to separate the character of the writers in the Edinburgh Review, from the Edinburgh Review itself, most gladly would we do so, and more especially that of the distinguished person on whom the responsibility of the Editorship is supposed to lie. He, we believe, is safe in his genius and his virtue-in his feelings and his imagination-from that scepticism which may sternly as sail dark, or creep by stealth into colder, spirits. We have never heard it hinted, that any of his own masterly disquisitions have been liable to such a charge. But all we can do is to speak of the work itself, and its general spirit, when treating of, or alluding to Religion. If the other writers in that work-if its other conductors do indeed believe Christianity, they have, for nearly twenty years, been acting with an inconsistency for which no human ingenuity can account, and have brought suspicion over all who have countenanced their infidelity-if they do not believe Chris

tianity, then we grant that they and their friends may be angry with us for exposing their errors, to call them by no harsher name,but we must likewise think, that their irritation is far from being any proof of our injustice, and that it can scarcely be so culpable in us to charge unbelievers with their unbelief, as it is in them to seek to destroy the belief of others. Much misery have the Edinburgh Reviewers inflicted, as they well know, on many meritorious and pious Christians-and a most antichristian and persecuting spirit have they often exhibited towards those whose religious faith was different from their own. It must be painful, indeed, to a true Christian, to hear his religion assailed-but we cannot see why it should necessarily be painful to an Infidel, to have that infidelity acknowledged by others, which he himself has been constantly exhibiting, either in open display or half concealed insinuation. It is at least certain, that to attack Christians, either openly or covertly, is far more culpable, than it can be to attack, in any way whatever, a body-corporate of Unbelievers.

Were the Edinburgh Reviewers to be asked to give a decision on this subject themselves, they would be forced to acknowledge that they had not been true friends to Christianity. They would confess that, though their offences were overcharged in our indictment, they were yet of the kind therein laid, they would own that they had rarely, if ever, spoken of Christí anity as the self-appointed guardians of Truth ought to have spoken of it (admitting Christianity to be truth,)— and they would be forced to allow that the Spirit of Belief of this age, if looked for in their volumes, would appear decidedly hostile to Revelation.

Indeed, it would seem that the moment a man writes in a sceptical journal, he unconsciously becomes sceptical. The spirit of the work changes and overmasters his own-he is subdued" to the very quality of his lord." He feels that a certain strain of sentiment and opinion is dictated to him by the ruling character of the volume in which his disquisitions are to be enrolled, he seeks to avoid, not all offence to truth, but all offence to the dogmas that have reigned there,―he unwittingly compromises the pecu