The birth (March 20) of a son and heir to the French Empe For may be considered as an event of some consequence in continental politics, as it may tend to draw closer the bands of alliance between the French and the Austrian courts, and to rivet the chains of that despotism, of which France is at the same time the passive victim and the active instrument; but this tendency may possibly have the effect of counteracting itself, by the des pair it may excite of the natural termination of usurped and im moderate power; and the chance that the infant King of Rome may come to be the second of the Bonaparte dynasty will pro bably not be estimated at a high rate by political calculators. The prospect is at present far from unclouded before Napoleon, whose failure in his promised subjugation of the peninsula cannot but diminish that reputation for invariable success by which alone he has hitherto maintained his extended sway, and whose iron rule must have made as many malcontents as subjects. There seems good reason to believe that Russia views with much dissatisfaction the haughty predominance of France in the affairs of the north; though the weakness of her court will not justify any firm reliance on her efforts to assert her natural influence; at least, she must free herself from her unadvised war with the Porte before she can apply her resources to any other effectual purpose. That power, in the midst of difficulties external and internal, does not seem disposed to submit to the terms demanded by Russia, of the cession of all its provinces on the left bank of the Danube; and Mussulman enthusiasm has often maintained a hard conflict with Christian discipline. The powerful English fleet to be sent into the Baltic will doubtless considerably affect the state of northern politics. While Europe is in this precarious and unsettled condition, the flames of a revolutionary war are unhappily ravaging some of the finest parts of America. The great question, whether the Spanish colonies should take this opportunity of asserting their indepen. dence, or should retain their allegiance to the mother country under the nominal sovereignty of Ferdinand VII., has already divided some of the principal governments, and occasioned con. flicts marked with the sanguinary violence belonging to the Creole character. In Mexico, it seems as if the old interest was predo minant; in Caraccas and Buenos Ayres, the new prevails; and it is to be feared that much blood will be shed before a concurrence in one system can be effected. The English government has prudently declared that it means to take no part in these do. mestic quarrels, but only to protect all from the designs of the common enemy. To revert to matters more nearly concerning ourselves-an alarm was for some time excited respecting the internal state of Ire land, land, in consequence of a circular letter issued by the secretary, Mr. Wellesley Pole, requiring from all magistrates the immediate apprehension of all persons in any way concerned in the election or appointment of representatives or delegates to a Catholic Committee meant to be assembled in Dublin. This exertion of power was authorised by a clause in the convention act, but it had not been put in force for some years past; it was therefore concluded that a discovery had been made of some very dan. gerous designs on the part of that numerous body of Irish subjects. The ministry on this side the water affirmed that they knew nothing of this measure till it was adopted; but when Mr. Pole came over to justify his conduct, he received the usual support of the government. Nothing, however, but a very obvious necessity could apologize for the renewal of an arbitrary proceeding, devised in a time of actual rebellion, and conveying a severe reflection on the great body of the nation. The Irish ministry seem to have been conscious that they had been precipitate; for when they sent two magistrates to disperse the meeting of a very respectable Catholic committee in Dublin, of which Lord Ffrench was president, the firmness shown by the president and members disconcerted the satellites of authority; and the declaration that the meeting was only for the purpose of preparing a petition, was accepted as a reason for giving it no further inter ruption. It would be scarcely worth while to notice among domestic occurrences the election of a new Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, did not its circumstances afford some insight into the state of parties. The Duke of Rutland first declared himself a candidate, and wrote a letter to the vice-chancellor, in which, after very humbly disclaiming any merit of his own, he begged leave to mention the supposed good wishes of his Majesty for his success, and the avowed patronage of Mr. Perceval. This letter, one of the meanest perhaps that ever fell from a noble pen, gave deep disgust to all who were capable of feeling for the honour of the university; and proved very serviceable to his competitor, the Duke of Gloucester, who carried the election by a considerable majority, notwithstanding the two archbishops and several bishops, with various persons about the court, thought themselves bound to vote for the Duke of Rutland, in opposition to the King's own nephew, and the known wish of the Regent. Thus terminates the first quarter of the year 1811, leaving abundant matter for the expectation of important events in its ulterior course; but we dare not predict that event which is the object of our warmest wishes-its close with the restoration of peace and prosperity to this and so many other countries, which have so long been sufferers under the reign of lawless violence violence and unprincipled ambition. All victory which does not tend to this point is only so much aggravation of human misery. ART. XIX.-On the Public Spirit of the Times, and the State of Parties. The It is not intended, in the following remarks, to send forth a declamation against the age in general; much less to anathematize every body who differs from them in opinion. There are, it is true, and ever will be, a certain quantity of common-place old, gentlemen, and respectable but wrinkled ladies, to treat us with lectures on the degeneracy of the times, and to shew us how wrong we are in admiring the youth and beauty around us. old epicure in Gil Blas thought that the peaches had degenerated since his time; and were we to take for granted, in a progressive ratio, all that has been said on this subject, we should find that we had sunk beneath all standard of comparison; that every thing about us. was wretched and unreasonable; that we could scarcely read or write; had no morals, manners, or common sense; and were not above six inches high. But one of the greatest proofs of the advancement of reason in the present age, is the general disappearance of this kind of superstition. The most desponding of us are too much alive to the many improvements around them, to waste all their praise upon their ancestors: people begin to see the folly of lamenting the want of other Bacons to make revolutions in science, and other Newtons to discover a fresh centre of gravity; and though we may now and then find, in a corner of a magazine, a letter from some young gentleman, fresh from Goldsmith or Dr. John. son, complaining that "we have no such men now-a-days," it is pretty well understood that we have poets and philosophers superior to both; and that in no age, among the possessors of real knowledge, has knowledge been so real and so unadulterated with prejudice. But while we do justice to the improvements of the age, we must not be blind to it's deteriorations; and we cannot be so, if we do that justice in the proper spirit, since it is by knowing the defects as well as merits of the times, that we set both in their proper contrast, ascertain their causes, observe their progress, and prolong or provide against their effects. The same impartial observer, for instance, who sees our rise in painting, will ac knowledge knowledge our decline in music; he will perceive that if the whole drama has become purified, it has also, though certainly not from the same cause, become stultified; and he will confess, that if our foreign power has never before been so extensive, it has never been less strong or effectual at the point where its influence would be most advantageous. It is for want of a sufficient number of persons with disinte restedness, self-respect, or hope enough to come forward and recommend this kind of impartiality, that public errors acquire so much negative strength; for it is not in the removal of the er, rors themselves that the difficulty lies, as their secret friends would have us believe, but in the obtainment of a few shoulders that would apply themselves heartily to the task. That persons both willing and able to set about it, are not to be found, can hardly be supposed by any one acquainted with the state of na, tional intellect; but that such persons do not take a sufficient in, terest in the thing, is very evident, and so is the cause of their lukewarmness-they think that experience is against them; that so much blood and treasure wasted for such a succession of years at the pleasure of the crown and it's servants argue a complete subjugation of the public sense; and that as men of independence have already exerted themselves to little purpose, it becomes them to sit down quietly with their books and their families, and enjoy themselves as much as possible while quietness is to last. It is very difficult, however, to say at what time, and under what circumstances, an independent man has a right to argue to him. self in this manner. If the circumstances be desperate, he may be of use in preparing people for the shock, and in diminishing its force by his own firmness;-if they are not so, his retreat is confessedly premature, and it is well if he can shew that it is not indolent or even timorous. One thing it becomes him well to consider, under any possible view of the case; and that is, that it is the want of such men as himself that peculiarly helps to make it desperate. If two, or twelve, or thirty independent men in public life have been able to effect little against corruption, twelve or thirty more, adding both positive strength to the cause • and the influence of conscientious example, may be able to effect a great deal :—and, in fine, if nothing at all can be achieved, yet it is something to shew to posterity how freedom retains her voice to the last, and how difficult it is to wrest from her in her dying moments the vigorous principle of life. But the assumption, that much has already been tried without success, seems to be unjustifiable. The want of success is manifest, to a certain degree; but where is the much that has been tried? These assertions are made in moments of irritation, when some favourite scheme has been thwarted, or some long-expected good good fortune been faithless. It was in such a moment that Mr. Fox took his well-known leave of the House of Commons, declaring that it was useless to sit there any longer; and it was a similar feeling which lately provoked his friends to cry out, that the nation was absolutely divided into two huge parties of bigoted courtiers and vengeful democrats, who were bent upon each other's destruction. The fact is, however, and these very persons have since tacitly acknowledged it,-that by far the greater part of the nation, as is the case with all nations, think little or nothing about politics, except when the tax-gatherer annoys them, or when people meet in the street or at dinner, and have exhausted the social sympathies of the weather. There is that in politics, which persons of all descriptions, except such as have an immediate interest in the matter, are inclined to avoid,—the idle and luxurious for it's troublesomeness, the men of taste for it's dryness, and the foolish from not discerning it's effects. Were the great body of the nation to take an interest in it, as has been represented, things would be in a fairer likelihood of amendment, for it is seldom, when it's own welfare is concerned, that such a body thinks wrongly, if it thinks at all; and therefore, instead of going about to settle imaginary divisions which absord the nation, and to lament that these divisions are given up to a dreadful stubbornness that beats back all interference, it becomes reasonable observers to rouse the attention of their countrymen' to the real state of things,-to create an interest in politics instead of repressing it, and to shew them how insignificant are these very parties, so fearfully exaggerated, when compared with that aggregate power of mind, which is at present inactive and useless, but might be irresistible and all-reforming.---And first, Of the Pittites.--How will posterity believe that power in this country was not only enjoyed for twenty years, but bequeathed in a flourishing state to his disciples, by a man, whose good works were at the best a great question, who confessedly heaped burden on burden over the people's shoulders, whose foreign policy was invariably unfortunate, who entered into power when England gave the tone to Europe, was at peace, was respectable, and only 400 millions in debt, and who left her at his death shut out from the Continent, at war with the whole civilized world, loaded with the ignominy of unfortunate coalitions, and groaning under a debt of 800 millions, with financial prospects, that roused the alarm of the most confident and the enquiries of the most slavish? If they look for explanation to certain biographi. cal and historical compilations, which however are not at all likely to reach them, their astonishment will mount to a pitch of agony on finding that the great majority of the nation was unin terruptedly fond of this man and his disciples; that the courtiers were |