the childless mother was calmed even by the greatness of the stroke. As the lead that goes quickly down to the ocean's depth ruffles its surface less than lighter things, so the blow which was strongest did not so much disturb her calm of mind, but drove her to its proper trust."

We close our examples here. It is of the sentiment which we have thus endeavoured to illustrate, that Coleridge says:

"Extremes meet;-a proverb, by the by, to collect and explain all the instances and exemplifications of which, would constitute and exhaust all philosophy."-The Friend.

Our next sample of an "Idée Napoléonienne " is the famous exclamation, "La Garde meurt et ne se rend pas!" said to have been uttered at Waterloo. As at Pavia Francis the First found consolation for the loss of the battle in the remark, "tout est perdu hormis l'honneur;" so, at Waterloo, when "sauve qui peut" became the order of the day, it was no small cause of exultation to the vanquished to be able to boast that their famous "Garde" preferred death to dishonour. The French plume themselves on this saying, not only as an indignant protest against the loss of the battle, but as containing one of those happy transpositions, which invest a thought with peculiar significance and force. When La Fontaine makes the reed say :

"Je plie et ne romps pas,"

the ideas follow each other in their natural order; and we conceive at once, that if there

were any breaking, it would follow the bending as a consequence. But in "La Garde meurt et ne se rend pas," there is a striking energy in placing death as the foremost object in the contemplation of the soldier.

This saying has been ascribed to almost every man that played a conspicuous part on the side of the French at Waterloo, but more commonly to General Cambronne. I believe, however, that it can be traced to a much higher source, and that it is at best but a feeble version of the memorable words uttered by one of Virgil's

heroes :

66

Moriamur, et in media arma ruamus.'

Another celebrated maxim, the pretended emanation of modern wisdom, is attributed to Prince Talleyrand, namely:

"La parole n'a été donnée à l'homme que pour déguiser sa pensée."

The saying is certainly quite in keeping with the genius of that accomplished master in the art of dissimulation; and if he was not the first to propound it, he was the foremost to practise its Machiavelism. Political tergiversation was the grand rule of his life, and every step in his extraordinary career was designed to illustrate a system of deceit, in which nothing was undisguised but the intention to disguise.

The truth, however, seems to be, that this saying, like most good things of its kind, has been repeated by so many eminent writers, that it is impossible to trace it to any one in particular, in the precise form in which it is now popularly received. I shall quote, in succession, all those who have expressed it in words of the same, or a nearly similar, import, and leave the reader to judge for himself.

Jeremy Taylor had the sentiment clearly in view in the following sentence:

“There is in mankind an universal contract implied in all their intercourses; and words being instituted to declare the mind, and for no other end, he that hears me speak hath a right in justice to be done him, that as far as I can, what I speak be true; for else he by words does not know your mind, and then as good and better not speak at all."

Then comes David Lloyd, who, in his "State Worthies," thus remarks of Sir Roger Ascham :

"None is more able for, yet none is more averse to, that circumlocution and contrivance, wherewith some men shadow their main drift and purpose. Speech was made to open man to man and not to hide him; to promote commerce and not betray it."

Dr. South, Lloyd's contemporary, but who survived him more than twenty years, expresses the sentiment in nearly the same words :

"In short, this seems to be the true inward judgment of all our politick sages, that speech was given to the ordinary sort of men whereby to communicate their mind, but to wise men whereby to conceal it."

The next writer in whom it occurs is Butler, the author of "Hudibras." In one of his prose essays on the "Modern Politician," he says:—

"He [the modern politician] believes a man's words and his meanings should never agree together; for he that says what he thinks lays himself open to be expounded by the most ignorant; and he who does not make his words rather serve to conceal than discover the sense of his heart, deserves to have it pulled out like a traitor's, and shown publicly to the rabble."

Young has the thought in this couplet on the duplicity of courts:

"When Nature's end of language is declined,

And men talk only to conceal their mind."

From Young it passed to Voltaire, who, in the dialogue entitled "Le Chapon et la Poularde," makes the former say of the treachery of men :

"Ils n'emploient les paroles que pour déguiser leurs pensées."

Goldsmith, about the same time, in his paper in the "Bee," produces it in the well-known words:

"Men who know the world hold that the true use of speech is not so much to express our wants as to conceal them."

Then we have Talleyrand, who is reported to have said,

"La parole n'a été donnée à l'homme que pour déguiser sa pensée."

The latest writer who employs this remark is, I believe, Lord Holland. In his "Life of Lope de Vega," he says of certain Spanish writers, promoters of the cultismo style :

"These authors do not avail themselves of the invention of letters for the purpose of conveying, but of concealing their ideas."

From these passages it will be seen that the germ of the thought is to be found in Jeremy Taylor; that Lloyd and South have improved upon his mode of expressing it; that Butler, Young, and Goldsmith have repeated it after them; that Voltaire has translated it into French; that Talleyrand has echoed Voltaire's words; and that it has now become so familiar an expression that any one may employ it, as Lord Holland has done, without being at the trouble of citing his authority.

There is a notion in Bentham's "Book of Fallacies" which is often quoted for its depth and acuteness. It is where he ridicules the expression "the wisdom of our ancestors," and shows that, as wisdom increases with years, so we who live in the present age are possessed of a greater degree of it than those who lived in the early ages of the world. The origin of this thought is assigned to Lord Bacon, who, in his "Advancement of Learning," says:

"And indeed, to speak truly, 'Antiquitas sæculi juventus mundi;' certainly our times are the ancient times, when the