From Orleans to Paris, the road is paved, and, I am told, that to the north of Parisall the high roads are paves. On this road, particularly as one approaches Paris, one meets with many magnificent houses, demesnes, and parks (the countryseats of the great nobles, who usually resided at Versailles or Paris). The villa that once belonged to the celebrated Madam de Pompadour, mistress to Louis XV, is very grand, but the most magnificent countryseat on the road belongs to monsieur, formerly marquis, D'Argenson, son to a farmer-general, who built this place during his administration. This place may compare with the duke of Bedford's seat at Woburn for grandeur and magnificence. The park, which is in the highest state of cultivation, contains between three and four thousand acres, surrounded with a stone-wall, eight feet high, and of the neatest masonry. The money expended on this wall alone would purchase a considerable estate. The mansionhouse, and the village, which may be considered as an appurtenance to it, are, in every respect, suitable to the grandeur of the park. I was much surprised that a marquis, a son of a farmer-general and minister of finance, should be permitted to retain this fine property, acquired probably out of the revenues of the nation. On inquiring the caues of it, I was informed, that at least nine-tenths of the nobility of France would have preserved their property as well as monsieur D'Argenson, if they had not chosen to emigrate, and abandon their estates, in hopes of recovering them again, with the titles and privileges that the revolution had abolished. Most of them chose to stake their fortunes on this chance, and they lost them; as to those who quitted the country in the reigh of terror, they are not considered as emigrants, and very little of their property has been sold. As to this monsieur D'Argerson, he constantly resided at his country-seat, and all the harm he suffered during the revolution was, that, in the times of the Sans culottini, some of his neighbours broke down part of his park-wall, and turned their cattle into it; but, when the levelling spirit had spent its rage, and government was a little better established, he repaired his wall, and has enjoyed his fine demesne very peaceably ever since. It therefore appears to me, that all the compassion due to the French emigrants, as a body, is what misfortune may claim, even when the effect of imprudence. If, without any necessity, they chose to stake their fortunes on a most hazardous speculation, they must, in some degree, blame themselves for the consequences. Those who have purchased the estates of emigrants usually allow an annuity out of them for the support of the original possessor. This custom the general opinion of the neighbourhood, and the advice of the priests, makes almost universal. The country in the neighbourhood of Paris exhibits considerable variety; it is somewhat hilly, where, as France is in general a very flat country: its villages also are, as might be expected, much neater than they are at a distance from Paris, and the country-seats more frequent. ON THE USE OF THE WORDS "SHALL" AND " WILL." It is commonly acknowledged, that foreigners find a difficulty in the use of the English words " shali" and will," and that many amongst our own countrymen, (particularly the Scotch and Irish) often substitute improperly the one for the other. Yet I meet with no rule anywhere laid down on the subject; and I have frequently heard it asserted, that there is none; that the knowledge of the right use of the words cannot be attained by foreigners, but by a familiar acquaintance with the language in its purest style; and that provincials can only by observation free themselves from the habit of speech naturally acquired where the ear is accustomed to the misuse of the words. Thus we pretend ourselves to decide arbitrarily, this is right, and that is wrong, without any rule, as if we could discriminate by intuition; and we expect those, with whose phraseology we are offended, to adopt by observation that for which there is no standard. On referring to Dr. Johnson, I find he gives no rule: he confesses the difficulty, and does, in my opinion, very little towards removing it. In his dictionary, under the word "shall," he says: "SHALL, V. defective [fceal, Sax. is originally I owe, or I ought. In Chaucer, "the faithe I shall to God," means the faith I owe to God; thence it became a sign of the future tense. The French That he shall receive no benefit from Christ, is the affirmation whereon all his despair is founded; and the one way of removing this dismal apprehension, is to convince him that Christ's death, and the benefits thereof, either do, or if he perform the condition required of him, shall certainly belong to him.... Hamond's Fundamentals. use devoir, dois, doit, in the same 6. Shall he love? It is permitted manner, with a kind of future signification; and the Swedes have skall, and the Icelanders skal, in the same sense. It has no tenses but shall, future; and should, imperfect.] The explanation of shall, which foreigners and provincials confound with will, is not easy; and the difficulty is increased by the poets, who sometimes give to shall an emphatical sense of will; but I shall endeavour (crassa Minerva) to shew the meaning of shall in the future tense. 1. I shall love. It will so happen that I must love; I am resolved to love. 2. Shall I love? Will it be permitted me to love? Will you permit me to love? Will it happen that I must love? 3. Thou shalt love? I command thee to love. It is permitted thee to love: (in poetry or solemn diction) it will happen that thou must love. 4. Shalt thou love? Will it happen that thou must love? Will it be permitted to thee to love. 5. He shall love. It will happen that he must love; it is commanded him that he love. him to love? In solemn language, will it happen that he must love?" Thus far Dr. Johnson. Now I contend that, if there is a right and a wrong, there must be a rule. Perhaps it may be said that I am fighting against the air, that the matter is obvious, and known to every one. I can only answer, if the rule is any where given, I shall be glad to have it pointed out to me; if not I think it is wanting; and, till some one shall lay down a better, I shall venture to retain that which is here proposed to your readers. In the first place then, I observe, that in English we have no simple future, but express it by auxiliary with the principl verb. Now the auxiliaries have also an appropriate signification themselves as simple verbs...." Will" implying intention or volition, or rather further a determination or resolution of the actor; "shall" implying a determination on the part of the speaker. Ex. " He says he will not, but he shall." Here the actor is compelled. It may be softened into a permission, as " he shall if he will;".... " he shall have my permission;" still this implies intention of the speaker relative to something in his power, and it is not a mere future. Now, as our language is so constructed, that, while we want only to express a mere future, we are obliged to use one of these words, so that we cannot get rid of an implied determination either of the speaker or of the actor, the contrivance seems to be to throw it off from the speaker; and, with respect to the actor, a degree of ambiguity is left, which an interpretation, arising out of the general connection, and probable intention, of the sentence, removes in a degree sufficient for general use. In speaking in the first person, the speaker is the nominative to the verb; the actor and the speaker are one and the same. In this case, "will" implies the determination of the speaker, because he is also the actor. In the second and third person, the person or thing spoken of is the nominative case to the verb; the actor and speaker are not the same; therefore the word "will" does not involve the intention of the speaker. This therefore I propose as the rule, viz. that, when we intend a mere future, the word "shall" is used in the first person, and "will" in the second and third; and the cause of the rule I take to be, the speaker's desire to avoid expressing his own intention. For these reasons, when speaking in the first person, we say "I shall forget," in which no actual will or determination of the speaker is implied; for the actor and the speaker being the same person (since the meaning cannot be "I will compel myself") the compulsory signification of the word " shall" cannot be intended, and it is a mere future. In the third person, we cannot say " he shall forget," on account of the compulsory signification of the word "shall; and we say "he will forget." In neither of these cases do we find any ambiguity; for to forget is not a VOL. I....NO. VI. subject either of will or compulsion. In verbs denoting any act the subject of will or compulsion, the ambiguity relative to the will of the actor is left, when the speaker either cannot express, or chooses to avoid expressing, his own will; as "the sun will not shine to day;" " my servant will not be in town tomorrow." These are mere futures; but by possibility might be construed to express a determination of the sun or the servant, to which ambiguity we submit, as to a defect in the language. In the like cases, but in the first person, we should say, "I shall be distressed with this burning sun;" in which it is out of the speaker's power to express his will; or, " I shall not be in town to day," when he chooses to avoid expressing his will; and these also are mere futures. We cannot exchange these words, and say, in the first case, "the sun shall not shine," or " I will not be distressed;" for then instead of a future the words express the will and determination of the speaker in matters out of his controul: nor, in the second case, can we say, "my servant shall not be in town," or " I will not be in town;" for then the words express the will of the speaker, where he means merely to speak in the future tense, without declaring his own determination on the subject. the niece of the cardinal Richelieu. This marriage, which administered to the ambition of the aspiring prelate, did not contribute to the happiness of the young devoted bride groom. nown. Being in 1643 appointed commander in chief, he ascended with gigantic steps, (through a succession of victories) the summit of reHis great merit, however, did not shield him from the suspicious nature of Mazarin; for soon after he had subdued the Parisian insurgents, his own destruction was the object of the subtle Italian, who procured an order (under various pretences) for the imprisonment of the prince of Conde, of his brother the prince of Conti, and of his brother-in-law the duke of Longueville. The prince of Conde endured this indignity with that calm fortitude which he so eminently possessed upon every trial. His brother unequal to this sudden reverse of fortune, sunk under it; and having desired to be provided with a religious book, entitled, The Imitation of Christ, the prince is reported to have archly said, I beg I may be provided with the Imitation of Beaufort, that I may learn the manner of his escaping from his confinement two years ago." The illustrious prisoner frequently amused himself with working in the garden of the castle; a circumstance which called from the pen of mademoiselle de Scudery these lines, the best perhaps she ever wrote: En veyant ces œillets qu'un illustre Et ne t'etonne pas que Mars soit jar dinier. At the expiration of thirteen months he was set at liberty, in consequence of the repeated and pressing solicitations of the parliament. It was during this confinement, that, taking counsel from revenge, he The following discourse was de- The splendid cenotaph erected on the occasion, displayed at once the magnificence of art, and the sumptuous invention of Perrault, and has been ever since the model for funeral decoration. It was supposed to have cost a hundred thousand livres. Bourdaloue also pronounced the panegyric of the great Conde: but the unimpassioned didactic style of the celebrated Jesuit was ill adapted to encomiastic composition. The close, however, of his discourse is warm and animated. The incident of the prince's having requested, in his last moments, that his heart should be deposited in the church belonging to the Jesuits, calls from the orator this fervid effusion of gratitude: "Yes! we will be the faithful guardians of this sacred deposite: your request, O Prince, we will respectfully and affectionately perform. The heart of each individual of our order will be a living mausoleum, in which yours shall be inurned! The solemn engagement we now contract, will be held in veneration from one extremity of the earth to the other: in the old and in the new world will be found hearts glowing with gratitude for the obligations conferred upon our society by the illustrious prince of Conde!" The Funeral Oration on Louis of Bourbon, Prince of Conde, BY BOSSUET. WHEN I consider that the discourse I am entering upon is to celebrate that ever dear and resplendent name, Louis of Bourbon, prince of Conde, I am at once overpowered by the magnificence of the subject and its inutility: for where is that distant and obscure corner of the earth to which his renown is not become familiar? What I shall offer this day to your attention, I am conscious will not rise to the demands of your gratitude, nor fill the grasp of your expectation. Feeble orators as we are, we cannot diffuse any additional lustre over those rare and distinguished personages, whom nature hath selected and highly privileged. The wise man, therefore, says with his accustomed sagacity, "Let their own works praise them." The panegyrist, like a timid " inexperienced statuary, recoils from the laborious task of fashioning a colossal figure." A faithful unadorned narrative would best display the features of our hero's mind: history must perform that task, and move the admiration of posterity by a simple recital of his actions. We will in the meantime endeavour to comply with the request of a grateful public, and with the orders of an illustrious monarch. What a deep sense of obligation should we not entertain for a prince, who has not only flung a new splendor round the throne, and exalted the French name, but who does honour to the present age, and who ennobles even human nature! If The illustrious monarch to whom I lately alluded, hath summoned to this venerable temple the most distinguished and august personages of the kingdom, to pay their united homage to the memory of our departed hero; he hath also ordained that I should lend my feeble voice to this funeral exhibition, to these rites of sorrow. A reflection (more worthy of this hallowed place) now occupies my mind, which is, that God alone forms the soul of the conqueror. The Psalmist says, "Blessed is the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war." valour is breathed into him by the Almighty Power, his other attributes are no less derived from the same inexhaustible source. We should learn to discriminate those gifts which the Omnipotent Hand disperses among the wicked, and those which are imparted to the virtuous. The great distinguished gift of God is a sense of religion: without this inestimable gift, what would have availed to the eminent personage whose loss we now deplore, all the amiable attributes of his heart, or all the sublime energies' of his mind? Had not religion consecrated the rare qualities which adorned his character, the angust personages now present would not have found amidst their sorrow any consoling reflection: the venerable prelate would perform, devoid of hope, his awful ministry, and I should look in vain for any basis on which I might erect the structure of his fame. Let then human glory vanish as a transient meteor! and let me at this altar boldly sacrifice the idol of ambition! I should wish to bring together in one collected view his superior qualities, his valour, his magnanimity, his amiableness, with all the requisites peculiar to genius, eagle-eyed sagacity, invention, sublimity. This |