even in the closet of assignation, she set him at defiance; and while she listened to his fond request, she was deaf to his suit, unless when presented under the sanction of virtue, and recommended by sentiment.

This tender sentiment, so much talked of in France, so little felt, was sublimed to an enthusiastic passion, during the regency of Anne of Austria, and the civil wars that disfigured the beginning of the reign of Lewis XIV. Then all things were conducted by women. The usual time for deliberation was midnight; and a lady in bed, or on a sofa, was the soul of the council. There she determined to fight, to negotiate, to embroil, or to accommodate matters with the court; and as love presided over all those consultations, secret aversions or attachments frequently prepared the way for the greatest events. A revolution in the heart of a woman of fashion almost always announced a change in public affairs.(1)

The ladies often appeared openly at the head of factions, adorned with the ensigns of their party; visited the troops, and presided at councils of war, while their lovers spoke as seriously of an assignation, as of the issue of a campaign. Hence the celebrated verses of the philosophical duke de Rochefoucault to the dutchess of Longueville:

Pour meriter son cœur, pour plaire à ses beaux yeux, J'ai fait la guerre aux rois, je l'auroit fait aux dieux! "To merit that heart, and to please those bright eyes,

I made war upon kings; I'd have warr'd 'gainst the skies!"

Every thing connected with gallantry, how insignificant soever in itself, was considered as a matter of importance. The duke de Bellegard, the declared lover of the queen-regent, in taking leave of her majesty to take upon him the command of an army, begged as a particular favour that she would touch the hilt of his sword. And M. de Chatillon, who was enamoured of Mademoiselle de Guerchi, wore one of her garters tied round his arm in battle. (2) But this serious gallantry, which Anne of Austria had brought with her from Spain, and which was so contrary to the genius of the French nation, vanished with the other remains of barbarism on the approach of the bright days of Lewis XIV., when the glory of France was at its height, and the French language, literature, arts, and manners were perfected. Ease was associated with elegance, taste with fashion, and grace with freedom. Love spoke once more the language of nature, while decency drew a veil over sensuality. Men and women became reasonable beings, and the intercourse between the sexes a school of urbanity; where a mutual desire to please gave smoothness to the behaviour; and mutual esteem, delicacy to the mind and sensibility to the heart.(3)

Nor was the refinement in manners during the reign of Lewis XIV. confined merely to the intercourse between the sexes, or to those habits of general politeness produced by a more rational system of gallantry. Duels, as we have frequently had occasion to observe, were long permitted by the laws of all the European nations, and sometimes authorized by the magistrate, for terminating doubtful questions. But single combats, in resentment of

(1) Every one had her department and her dominion. Madame de Montbazon, fair and showy, governed the duke of Beaufort; Madame de Longueville the duke of Rochefoucault; Madame de Chatillon, Nemours and Condé: Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, the coadjutor, afterward cardinal de Retz; Mademoiselle de Saujon, devout and tender, the duke of Orleans; and the dutchess of Bouillon, her hus band. At the same time Madame de Chevreuse, lively and warm, resigned herself to her lovers from taste, and to politics occasionally; and the princess Palatine, in turns the friend and the enemy of the great Condé, by means of her genius more than her beauty, subjected all whom she desired to please, or whom she had either a whim or an interest to persuade. Essai sur le Caractere, les Maurs, et l'Esprit des Femmes dans les differens Siècles, par M. Thomas de l'Academie Françoise.

(2) Mem. de Mad. Motteville.

(3) That gallantry which, roving from object to object, finds no gratification but in variety, and which characterizes the present French manners, was not introduced till the minority of Lewis XV. "Then," says M. Thomas, a new court and new ideas changed all things. A bolder gallantry became the fashion. Shame was mutually communicated, and mutually pardoned; and levity, joining itself to excess, formed a corruption at the same time deep and frivolous, which laughed at every thing, that it might blush at nothing." Essai sur le Caractere, &c. des Femmes dans les differens Siècles, p. 190.

private or personal injuries, did not become common till the reign of Francis I., who, in vindication of his character as a gentleman, sent a cartel of defiance to his rival, the emperor Charles V. The example was contagious. Thenceforth every one thought himself entitled to draw his sword, and to call on his adversary to make reparation for any affront or injury that seemed to touch his honour. The introduction of such an opinion among men of fierce courage, lofty sentiments, and rude manners, was productive of the most fatal consequences. A disdainful look, a disrespectful word, or even a haughty stride, was sufficient to provoke a challenge. And much of the best blood in Christendom, in defiance of the laws, was wantonly spilt in these frivolous contests, which, towards the close of the sixteenth century, were scarcely less destructive than war itself. But the practice of duelling, though alike pernicious and absurd, has been followed by some beneficial effects. It has made men more respectful in their behaviour to each other, less ostentatious in conversation, and more tender of living characters, but especially of female reputation; and the gentleness of manners introduced by this restraint, at the same time that it has contributed to social happiness, has rendered duels themselves less frequent, by removing the causes of offence.

The progress of arts and literature, in France, kept pace with the progress of manners. As early as the reign of Francis I. who is deservedly styled the Father of the French Muses, a better taste in composition had been introduced. Rabelais and Montaigne, whose native humour and good sense will ever make them be ranked among the greatest writers of their nation, gave a beginning to the French prose; and French verse was gradually polished by Marot, Ronsard, and Malherbe, while prose received new graces from Voiture and Balzac. At length Corneille produced the Cid, and Pascal the Provincial Letters. The former is still justly admired as a great effort of poetical genius, both with regard to style and matter; and the latter continues to be universally regarded as a model of prose composition, as well as of delicate raillery and sound reasoning,

The Observations of the French academy on the Cid are a striking proof of the rapid progress of taste in modern times, as the Cinna of the same author is of the early perfection of the French stage. These observations were made at the desire of cardinal Richelieu, who had established, in 1635, that Academy of Sciences and Belles Lettres; and who, not satisfied with being reputed, what he certainly was, the most penetrating statesman in Europe, was also ambitious of being thought, what he was not, the most elegant poet in France. He was more jealous of the fame of Corneille, than of the power of the house of Austria, and affairs stood still while he was concerting the criticism on the Cid.(1)

That criticism contributed greatly to the improvement of polite literature in France. Corneille was immediately followed by Moliere, Racine, Quinaut, Boileau, la Fontaine, and all the fine writers who shed lustre over the early part of the reign of Lewis XIV. The language of the tender passions, little understood even by Corneille, was successfully copied by Madame de la Fayette in her ingenious novels, and afterward no less happily introduced on the stage by Racine; especially in his two pathetic tragedies, Phedra and Andromache. The glaring figures of discourse, the pointed antithesis, the jingle of words, and every species of false wit and false refinement, which prevailed during the former reign, were banished with the romantic gallantry that had introduced them: and composition, like manners, returned in appearance to the simplicity of nature, adorned but not disguised by art. This elegant simplicity is more particularly to be found in the tragedies of Racine, the fables of la Fontaine, and the comedies of Moliere, whose wonderful talent for ridiculing whatever is affected or incongruous in behaviour, as well as of exposing vice and folly, contributed not a little to that happy change which now took place in the manners of the French nation.

The same good taste extended itself to all the fine arts. Several magnifi

(1) Fontenelle, Mem. de l'Acad. France.

cent edifices were raised in the most correct style of architecture; sculpture was perfected by Gerardon, of whose skill the mausoleum of cardinal Richelieu is a lasting monument: Poussin equalled Raphael in some branches of painting, while Rubens and Vandyke displayed the glories of the Flemish school; and Lulli set to excellent music the simple and passionate operas of Quinaut. France, and the neighbouring provinces, towards the latter part of the seventeenth century were what Italy had been a century before, the favourite abodes of classic elegance.

The progress of taste and politeness were less rapid in the north of Europe, during the period under review. Germany and the adjoining countries, from the league of Smalkalde to the peace of Westphalia, was a perpetual scene either of religious wars or religious disputes. But these disputes tended to enlighten the human mind, and those wars to invigorate the human character, as well as to perfect the military science; an advantage in itself by no means contemptible, as that science is not only necessary to protect ingenuity against force, but intimately connected with several others conducive to the happiness of mankind. All the powers of the soul were roused, and all the emotions of the heart called forth. Courage ceased to be an enthusiastic energy or rapacious impulse: it became a steady effort in vindication of the dearest interests of society. No longer the slaves of superstition, of blind belief, or blind opinion, determined and intelligent men firmly asserted their civil and religious rights. And Germany produced consummate generals, sound politicians, deep divines, and even acute philosophers, before she made any advances in the belles lettres. The reason is obvious.

The revival of learning in Europe had prepared the minds of men for receiving the doctrines of the reformation, as soon as they were promulgated; and instead of being startled when the daring hand of Luther drew aside, or rather rent, the veil that covered established errors, the genius of the age, which had encouraged the attempt, applauded its success. Even before the appearance of Luther, Erasmus had confuted, with great eloquence and force of reasoning, several tenets of the Romish church (though it does not appear that he had any intention of overturning the established system of religion), and exposed others, as well as the learning of the schools, with much wit and pleasantry, to all the scorn of ridicule. Luther himself, though a stranger to elegance or taste in composition, zealously promoted the study of ancient literature, as necessary to a right understanding of the Scriptures, which he held up as the standard of religious truth. A knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages became common among the reformers: and though in general little capable of relishing the beauties of the classics, they insensibly acquired, by perusing them, a clearness of reasoning and a freedom of thinking, which not only enabled them to triumph over their antagonists, but to investigate with accuracy several moral and political subjects.

These, instead of polite literature, employed the thoughts of those who were not altogether immersed in theological controversy; and the names of Grotius and Puffendorf are still mentioned with respect. They delineated, with no small degree of exactness, the great outlines of the human character, and the laws of civil society: it was reserved for later writers, for Smith and Ferguson, Montesquieu and Helvetius, to complete the picture. Their principles they derived partly from general reasoning, and partly from the political situation of Europe in that age. In Germany and the United Provinces, Protestants and Catholics were every where blended; and the fatal experience of the destructive effects of persecution, not any profound investigation, seems first to have suggested the idea of mutual toleration, the most important principle established by the political and controversial writers of the seventeenth century. This subject demands particular attention.

In the present age it may seem incredible, and more especially in England, where the idea of toleration is become familiar, and where its beneficial effects are felt, that men should ever have been persecuted for their speculative opinions; or that a method of terminating their differences, so agree

able to the mild and charitable spirit of Christianity, did not immediately occur to the contending parties. But, in order to be able to judge properly of this matter, we must transport ourselves back to the sixteenth century, when the sacred rights of conscience and of private judgment, obvious as they now appear, were little understood; and when not only the idea of toleration, but even the Word itself, in the sense now affixed to it, was unknown among Christians. The cause of such singularity deserves to be traced.

Among the ancient heathens, whose deities were all local and tutelary, diversity of sentiments concerning the object or rites of religious worship seems to have been no source of animosity; because the acknowledging of veneration to be due to any one God did not imply a denial of the existence or power of any other God. Nor were the modes and rites of worship established in one country, incompatible with those of other nations. Therefore, the errors in their theological system were of such a nature as to be consistent with concord; and notwithstanding the amazing number of their divinities, as well as the infinite variety of their ceremonies, a sociable and tolerating spirit subsisted almost universally in the Pagan world. But when the preachers of the Gospel declared one Supreme Being to be the sole object of religious veneration, and prescribed the form of worship most acceptable to him, whosoever admitted the truth of it, consequently held every other mode of religion to be absurd and impious. Hence the zeal of the first converts to the Christian faith, in propagating its doctrines, and the ardour with which they endeavoured to overturn all other forms of worship. That ardour, and not, as commonly supposed, their religious system, drew upon them the indignation of the civil power. At length, as formerly observed, Christianity ascended the throne of the Cesars, and the Cross was exalted in the Capitol.(1) But although numbers, imitating the example of the court (which confined its favours chiefly to the followers of the new religion), crowded into the church, many still adhered to the ancient worship. Enraged at such obstinacy, the ministers of Jesus forgot so far the nature of their own mission, and the means which they ought to have employed for making proselytes, that they armed the imperial power against those unhappy. men; and as they could not persuade, they endeavoured to compel, them to believe.(2)

In the mean time, controversies, concerning articles of faith, multiplied among the Christians themselves; and the same compulsive measures, the same punishments, and the same threatenings, which had been directed against infidels and idolaters, were also made use of against heretics, or those who differed from the established church in matters of worship or doctrine. Every zealous disputant endeavoured to interest the civil magistrate in his cause, and several employed, in their turn, the secular arm to crush or extirpate their opponents. (3) In order to terminate these dissensions, which every where desolated the Christian world, as well as to exalt their own consequence, the bishops of Rome put in their claim to infallibility in explaining articles of faith, and deciding finally on all points of controversy: and, bold as the pretension was, they so far imposed on the credulity of mankind, as to get it recognised. Perhaps a latent sense of the necessity of universal freedom, or of some fixed standard in matters of religion, might assist the deceit. But however that may have been, it is certain that the remedy was worse than the disease. If wars and bloodshed were the too common effects of the diversity of opinions arising from different interpretations of Scripture, and of hereditary princes sometimes embracing one opinion, sometimes another, a total extinction of knowledge and inquiry, and of every noble virtue, was the consequence of the papal supremacy. It was held, not only a resisting of truth, but an act of rebellion against the sacred authority of that unerring tribunal, to deny any doctrine to which it had given the sanction of its approbation; and the secular power, of which, by various arts, the popes

(1) Part I. Let. I.

(2) Mosheim, Hist. Eccles. vol. i. Robertson, Hist, Charles V. book xi.

(3) Id. ibid.

had acquired the absolute direction in every country, was instantly exerted to avenge both crimes. A despotism more complete was established than that of the Romish dominion, and more debasing, as we have seen, than any species of civil tyranny.

To this spiritual despotism had Europe been subjected for several centuries, before any one ventured to call in question the authority on which it was founded. Even after the era of the reformation, a right to extirpate error by force was universally allowed to be the privilege of those who possessed the knowledge of truth; and as every sect of Christians believed that was their peculiar gift, they all claimed and exercised, as far as they were able, the prerogatives which it was supposed to convey. The Roman Catholics, as their system rested on the decisions of an infallible judge, never doubted but truth was on their side, and openly called on the civil power to repel the impious and heretical innovaters, who had risen up against it. The Protestants, no less confident that their doctrine was well founded, required, with equal zeal, the princes of their party to crush such as presumed to discredit or oppose it; and Luther, Calvin, Cranmer, Knox, the founders of the reformed church in their respective countries, inflicted, as far as they had power and opportunity, the same punishments that were denounced against their own disciples by the church of Rome, on such as called in question any article in their several creeds. (1) Nor was it till towards the close of the seventeenth century, when the lights of philosophy had dispelled the mists of prejudice, that toleration was admitted under its present form; first into the United Provinces, and then into England. For although, by the pacification of Passau, and the recess of Augsburg, the Lutherans and Catholics were mutually allowed the free exercise of their religion in Germany, the followers of Calvin yet remained without any protection from the rigour of the laws denounced against heretics; and after the treaty of Munster, concluded in more liberal times, had put the Calvinists on the same footing with the Lutherans, the former sanguinary laws still continued in force against other sects. But that treaty, which restored peace and tranquillity to the north of Europe, introduced order into the empire, and prepared the way for refinement, proved also the means of enlarging the sentiments of men, by affording them leisure to cultivate their minds; and Germany, alike free from civil and ecclesiastical tyranny, beheld, in process of time, taste and genius flourish in a climate deemed peculiar to lettered industry and theological dulness, and her fame in arts and sciences as great as her renown in arms.

Even before this era of public prosperity, the lamp of liberal science had illuminated Germany on subjects the most remote from religious controversy. Copernicus had discovered the true theory of the heavens, which was afterward perfected by our immortal Newton; that the sun, by far the greatest body, is the centre of our planetary system, dispensing light and heat, and communicating circular motion to the other planets, Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, which move around him. And Kepler had ascertained the true figure of the orbits, and the proportions of the motions of those planets; that each planet moves in an ellipsis, which has one of its foci in the centre of the sun; that the higher planets not only move in greater circles, but also more slowly than those that are nearer; so that, on a double account, they are longer in performing their revolutions.

Nor was that bold spirit of investigation, which the reformation had roused, confined to the countries that had renounced the pope's supremacy, and the slavish doctrines of the Romish church. It had reached even Italy; where Galileo, by the invention, or at least the improvement, of the telescope, confirmed the system of Copernicus. He discovered the mountains in the moon, a planet attendant on the earth; the satellites of Jupiter; the phases of Venus; the spots in the sun, and its rotation, or turning on its own axis. But he was not suffered to unveil the mysteries of the heavens with impunity.

(1) Robertson, ubi sup.