inventor found no one to reflect back his idea, expanded by the elaboration of a kindred spirit. The schemes of the most brilliant genius, and the most inventive imagination, were confined to the immediate circle of the possessor; they were checked in the bud, and they perished with their author. But since the press gave the brightness and the career of lightning to thought, a hint of improvement is no sooner suggested, than the minds of all the congenial individuals in existence are at work upon it, and carrying it on to perfection. By this means the whole talent, not of the inventor's country alone, but of the world generally, is brought to bear upon the invention. It was thus that a Watt found a Bolton to supply the necessary funds, for perfecting those inventions which have enabled man to stand by at ease and in triumph, and bid the elements of fire and water to perform his labour.

Again-we boast-and in these latter times we boast justly, of the splendour and the science of our statesmen-of the comprehensive mind of our Broughams, of the glorious spirit of our Cannings, and, above all, of the paternal, the patriarchical, the truly constitutional sway of our George the Fourth: we boast-and well may we boast-that the first revolutionizes the world, by turning it from prejudice to reason-from the exercise of dogmatism, to the exercise of judgment;-that the second shakes, by the fire of a single oration, every throne, every conclave, and every cabal, more terribly than ever they were shaken by the force of arms;-and we boast, that the third never interposed the slightest barrier in the way of his people's happiness and improvement; that he never was the cause of a pang to one individual who had the happiness of being his subject. Now, to what do we owe the science of Brougham, the splendour of Canning, and the majesty of George the Fourth? Second to that nature which has unquestionably endowed them with its choicest gifts, we owe them to the press, to that press, without which the talents of the former, and the beneficence of the latter would have been as a closed spring, or a sealed fountain, flowing in darkness and oblivion. Here, we may remark, is one of the noblest attributes of the press if public men have talents and virtue, and will trust themselves to it, be guided by its instructions, and guarded by its admonitions, there is no point of elevation to which they may not rise. Glance back but a few years, and contemplate the time when the ministers of England looked upon the press with a jealous and an evil eye, and mark into what degradation they brought themselves, and into what jeopardy they brought that delightful spirit which at this moment makes every pulse of joy or of sorrow in the royal breast, throb in that of all his subjects; and, having glanced at this, look at the present time-see the mighty power of the press, in bringing home the desire of the king, and the counsel of the minister, to every man's bosom. There needs no manifesto; there needs no public herald; no secret spy, to go over

these islands to call upon the people to rally round that which has become (as it ought always to be), the palladium of their strength. The message is sent down-the speech is delivered, and the fortune and the life of every Briton stand ready to be offered up for the honour of his country. Herein there is a lesson which, though mankind must some day or other learn, it were well that they should learn speedily. If a government be good-if a king be what he ought to be-if a minister be true to his trust-in short, if a government be at all worthy of an enlightened people, a press which can and may speak out, is stronger for it-more mighty and efficient in its support, than all the other engines and contrivances with which power ever was armed.

It is not a little singular that, in proportion as the people of France have become enlightened, and their rulers have been compelled-may, or can we say, disposed?-to relax somewhat of their fondness for arbitrary sway, they should shew more eagerness to curb the press and paralyse its influence, than when their power was unbounded. Some of the most despotic of the French rulers -of those who wished and warred to subject the whole of Europe to their domination, were among the most liberal patrons of letters, and in this way did some good to the world in return for all the mischiefs of their political ambition; and though, when France was torn by factions, or involved in hostilities, there were many arbitrary proceedings against individuals connected with the dissemination of knowledge, it is rather singular that the enslaving of the press should not have become a matter of express and permanent legislation, until France was enjoying peace, and possessed of, at least, the resemblance of a representative government. Nor does the inconsistency stop here: for it seems that in proportion as France becomes more tranquil and prosperous-in proportion as her people become a reading people, and as her ministers profess to recognise and revere the more liberal portion of the law of nations, in the same proportion do they become inconsiderate and illiberal on the subject of the press. At the first restoration of the Bourbon dynasty, however futile or foolish it might have been, it would not have been unnatural to look for some severe laws against political publications; because, then, it might have been explained that there were, in France, sentiments which, if freely and fully circulated, would have endangered the stability of the family. In 1819 also, there might have been some excuse; because, then, there was, throughout the whole south of Europe, a movement hostile to that kind of sway which is more particularly characteristic of the Bourbons. But, really, in 1827, and when the minister is the same day talking about liberal principles, and the injustice of one country's interfering with the internal regulations of another; we can attribute his new attack upon the press, to nothing but that flickering of intellect, which is the symptom and the harbinger of dissolution. This project, which has lately emanated from the French throne,

and which is all but carried, while we write, consists of four parts: First, it increases, and that to a very great extent, the penalties of non-compliance; secondly, it commands that every book above twenty sheets, and every brochure or ballad under, shall be deposited with the inquisitors of the press; the former for ten days, and the latter for five, before a single copy can be published; and that at this stage of the business, the printer can be fined, though not one copy has been sold; thirdly, the proprietors of a periodical cannot exceed five, and all their names must be printed upon every copy, they being the parties against whom prosecutions are to be directed; and fourthly, pamphlets of five sheets or under, must pay a duty of one franc (ten pence) for the first sheet, and ten centimes (the tenth part of a penny) for every other sheet, and periodicals are to pay ten centimes for every sheet of a fixed size, or even if they be any fraction of a sheet they are to pay ten centimes, and a centime additional is to be charged for every square decimetre added to the surface of the sheet,-the standard being fixed at 30 square decimetres-24 inches by 20. Pastoral letters, catechisms, hornbooks, works of science and art, and some other matters, are exempted from these restrictions, but they apply to every thing that can in any way have an influence upon public opinion; and thus, in all its more valuable operations, they reduce the press to a mere dead letter.

Truly we are not aware that there is in the code of any country, a law which aims more directly at the degradation and ruin of that country, than the one of which we have just stated the substance; and when a ministry proceed with so much, and such absurd violence, against freedom of opinion in their own country, it is with difficulty that we can believe them when they talk of respecting freedom in any other. The effect of this project will, if it shall or can be carried into execution, be the destruction of the French press, and the consequent ruin of more than twenty thousand families, in the French capital alone. No man will dare to print a book, in which there is the least freedom of opinion-no man will venture to be proprietor of a journal, in which there is any independence of discussion-and as for pamphlets, the restriction, the delay, and the tax, will destroy them altogether. But the project is as gratuitous as it is wicked. There has been no case whatever made out for it -not a single ground of necessity, a single deduction of reason, or even a single plea of that most plastic of all substances, expediency. The liberal part of the chambers have declaimed against it, the journals have denounced it, and even those who have usually found sophistry enough in favour of any thing ministerial, have not ventured a quibble in its behalf,-still it has crept on, like a mortal malaria, fed by some pestilent vapour from beneath, which is not the less deadly because it is unseen.

Will the French nation submit to it? will they, or can they, put from them their literature, and cease to think? We hope, we

believe, we are confident that they will not. If a people have once become enlightened-if they have once wantoned in the power and the delight of that most glorious of all possessions, a free and a reflective mind, they do not give it up but with their own annihilation, or with the extinction of knowledge. Of the last of these there can be no apprehension, because there are countries where such projects are not likely to be even mentioned; and of the first there is just as little apprehension. The effect therefore will be, to destroy the literature of France, and establish that of other countries upon its ruins. Nor will this be all; for the irritation and disgust which such a measure cannot fail in producing, must more effectually alienate the minds of the French people, and thus render, not the ministry merely, but the throne and the dynasty more insecure, than any other measure which folly could devise. In a highly civilized country, if the government deliberately does an act which estranges the minds of all thinking men, it requires no divination to foresee, that either the government must concede back again more than it has taken, or its days must speedily be numbered.

From the case of France, it is pleasant to turn by anticipation to that of this country. It is true that as it now stands, our law of libel is the disgrace of our code. But with the present administration, and the prospect of succession, as far as we can look into futurity, there is nothing of a political nature which appears to call for any thing else than the utmost freedom of the press; and this being the case, makes the present a fit time for removing those evils and imperfections which attach to that law, as it applies to individuals, and of which there have been more striking instances within the last six months, than ever there were before within the same portion of time. Now, therefore, is the time for Mr. Brougham to bring forward anew his proposed reform,-- a reform which, while it allows the law to punish the really guilty, enables the law at the same time to protect those who are innocent. At present, all proceedings for libel, whether by action, if there be no plea of justification, by information, or indictment, are ex-parte, and the jury have to find upon half the case. This makes the exposure of guilt, when not only done without malignity, but when done with the most honourable intention, precisely a parallel case with false and malicious slander against the innocent. Mr. Brougham proposes that the character of the prosecutor should always be brought fairly before the jury, by a proof of the truth of the allegations; and that if the defendant could establish that truth completely, and that it was also established that the publication could have proceeded from no injurious or malignant motive, then the verdict should be for the defendant. This would remove the existing abominations from the law of libel; and change it from an engine of oppression and a shield to criminality, to an even administration of justice between man and man. There are hopes that the measure will be brought

forward ere many months have elapsed; and that being the case, we should judge harshly of the temper of those now at the head of affairs, if we did not also hope that it would receive their best

assistance.

ART. IX. Confessions of an Old Bachelor. 8vo. pp. 371.
London. Colburn. 1827.

10s. 6d.

ON the page opposite to the title of this volume, we observe an advertisement in these words: "In the press, Confessions of an old Maid." We are rather surprised at this oversight on the part of the publisher, as a little reflection might have taught him that such an announcement would lead the reader to suspect, that both the "Confessions" were most probably the work of the same hand. We do not mean to prejudge the communications of the old Maid, but if they bear no stronger marks of authenticity about them than those of the old Bachelor, it is not difficult to anticipate their destiny.

'Confessions of an old Bachelor!' An excellent name for a book truly but we should like much to know the hapless disciple of celibacy, who had even shewn such symptoms of humility as to repent his state, and so much philosophy as to make a confession of his miseries. Need it be argued that the Need it be argued that the very first principle with such a being, is to keep his feelings within the sanctuary of his own bosom, or that the very last thought that would enter his pericranium, would be that of disclosing them to the world?

It is easy, no doubt, to imagine the character of an old Bachelor, and to fill it up with appropriate sentiments and language. This is what the writer before us has done. We venture to say, that whoever he is, he is not a bachelor; still less an antiquated one, for he speaks, on more than one occasion, with too much respect and feeling for the_wedded state, to permit his uxorious dispositions to be doubted. But, in whatever condition of life he breathes, he is merely a dramatist in his present work. There is too much of caricature in the outlines of the portrait, too much of exaggeration and minuteness in the details, to permit us for a moment to suppose that the narrative is genuine. The author had some scores of old frequenters of clubs in his eye while he was writing, and their foibles he has touched now and then with cleverness. It is evident from every page, that he has been rather an observer of the tribe than a member of it, for he paints their external appearance with a particularity of description, which the mere egotist never would have dreamt of.

By the way, talking of clubs, why do not the ladies petition parliament against them? They are making formidable strides at the west end of the town. No new street is now planned, in which four or five of these stately monasteries are not included. And as to the