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to come and fit by him. I fall do so, my dear friend, faid she; I am now fitting beside you-how do you find yourself?

" Rousseau. I grow worse-I feel a chilly cold—a shivering over my whole body-give me your hands and see if you can warm me-Ah!-that gentle warmth is pleasing—but the pains of the colic return-they are very keen.

Mrs. Rousseau. Do not you think, my dear friend, that it would be proper to take some remedy to remove these pains ?

Rousseau. My dear—be so good as to open the windows, that I may have the pleasure of seeing once more the verdure of that field-how beautiful it is! how pure the air ! how ferene the sky !-What grandeur and magnificence in the aspect of nature !

« Mrs. Rousseau. But my good friend, why do these objects affect you fo particularly at present?

Rouffeau. My dear--It was always my earnest desire that it would please God to take me out of the world before you -my prayer has been heard-and my wish will soon bave its accomplishment.—Look at that Sun, whose smiling aspect seems to call me hence !- There is my God-God himselfwho opens to me the borom of his paternal goodness, and invites me to taste and enjoy, at lait, that eternal and unalterable tranquility, which I have so long and so ardently panted after. --My dear spouse-do not weep-you have always defired to fee me happy, I am now going to be truly so !-Do not leave me: I will have none but you to remain with me-you, alone, Ihall close my eyes.

Mrs. Rousseau. My dear-my good friendbanith those apprehensions--and let me give you something I hope that this indisposition will not be of a long continuance !

Rousseau. I feel in my breast fomething like tharp pins, which occasion violent pains— My dear--if I have ever given you any uneasiness and trouble, or exposed you, by our conjugal union, to misfortunes, which you would otherwise have avoided, I hope you will forgive me.

Mrs. Rousseau. Alas ! my dear friend, it is rather my duty to ask your pardon for any uneasy moments you may have suffered on my account, or through my means.

Rousseau. Ah! my dear, how happy a thing is it to die, when one has no reason for remorse or self-reproach! Eternal Being ! the soul that I am now going to give thee back, is as pure, at this moment, as it was when it proceeded from thee :render it partaker of thy felicity! - My dear-I have found in the Marquis of Girardin and his lady, the marks of even parental tenderness and affection:--tell them that I revere their virtues, and that I thank them, with my dying breath, for all the proofs I have received of their goodness and friendship:-I deo fire that you may have my body opened immediately after my death, and that you will order an exact account to be drawn up of the state of its various parts :-Tell Monsieur and Madame de Girardin, that I hope they will allow me to be buried in their gardens, in any part of them that they may think proper.


" Mrs. Rousseau. How you afflict me - my dear friend! I intreat you, by the tender attachment you have always professed for me, to take something.

« Rousseau. I shall-fince you desire it-Ah! I feel in my head a strange motion!-a blow which I am tormented with pains—Being of Beings! God! (here he remained for a considerable time with his eyes raised to heaven) My dear spouse! let me embrace you!-help me to walk a little.”

Here his extreme weakness prevented his walking without help, and Mrs. Rousseau being unable to support him, he fell gently on the floor, where, after having remained for some time motionless, he sent forth a deep figh and expired.

Four and twenty hours after his decease his body was opened, in presence of a competent number of witnesses, and an inquest being held by the proper officers, the surgeons declared upon oath, that all the parts of the body were found, and that a ferous apoplexy, of which palpable marks appeared in the brain, was the cause of his death.

The Marquis de Girardin ordered the body to be embalmed; after which it was laid in a coffin of oak, lined with lead, and was buried in the Isle of Poplars, which is now called Elysium. The spot is charming, and looks like an enchanted region: It is of an 'oval form, fifty feet in length and thirty-five in breadth. The water which surrounds it, flows in a silent stream, and the winds seem unwilling to ruffle its surface or to augment its motion, which is almost imperceptible. The small lake that is formed by this gentle current, is surrounded by hillocks, which separate it from the other parts of nature, and shed on this retreat a mysterious kind of silence, that diffuses through the mind of the spectator, a melancholy propensity of the humane kind. These hillocks are covered with trees, and are terminated at the margin of the lake, by solitary paths, which are now and will be long frequented by sentimental visitors, casting a penfive look towards Elysium.

This feat of Ermenonville, has been more or less described (though without being named) in the last article of our Appendix for July 1778, in which we gave a particular account of an elegant Treatise composed by its proprietor. It belonged formerly to the famous Gabrielle d'Etrées, whose charms the love of Henry IV. has rendered immortal; and is about four leagues diftant from Chantili, The Marquis, whose exquisite taste has

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fo happily improved this noble seat, had consecrated the wild parts of it to Rouffeau, even before he became personally acquainted with that singular man.' Among other objects of curiosity to be seen in this seat, there is on a rising ground, a temple dedicated to philosophy, which is not yet entirely finished. The interior of this edifice is adorned with five columns; on the first Newton,

are inscribed the words, on the second,

Penn, ,

the third
on the fourth,

on the fifth, Humanitatem,

Ridiculum, Rousseau,

If the philosophers should think Voltaire too hardly Naturam. dealt with in these inscriptions, it may be observed in justification of M. Girardin (or at least as an alleviation of his fault) that how various foever the literary talents of M. de Voltaire may have been, yet the distinctive and predominant lines of bis. genius, and even of his character, were wit and pleasantry. It is beyond all doubt, that for one movement of admiration that he excited by his graver talents, he has excited one hundred fits of laughter (or smiles thereunto approaching) by his merry ones. Even his most serious philosophical discussions were tinged with drollery, and an habitual grin was always lurking under the most folemn modification of his countenance.

When Mr. Rousseau was called to inhabit a manfion invisible to us, the Marquis de Girardin was building for him a near dwelling at Ermenonville, remarkable for its elegant fimplicity and the beauty of its situation: his present occupation is the erection of a fepulchral monument to cover the remains of his departed friend, in the Ifle of Poplars. This mausoleum is to be constructed of white marble, with the bust of the deceased by Houdon; and its decorations are to be in the best taste. One of its fides will exhibit two doves for Eloisa; -another, a mother fuckling her child for Emilius;-a third, children sacrificing on the altar of nature; and the fourth, a Lyre, with other fymbols of poetry and music. The inscription which is intended for this monument is long; it contains a pompous encomium on the genius, sentiments, and moral character of Mr. Rousseau, and concludes with the following paragraph, which we think remarkable: He was deeply affected with the sublimity of religion; the majesty of the gospel sent a folemn voice to his heart: he. embraced with ardor the hopes it administers: he relished with a lively taste the pleasures it yields to his last breath, and his pure and virtuous Joul took its flight, with confidence and joy, to the bosom of his God."


We say

GERMAN Y and the NORTH. II. Eloge de Voltaire, &c. i. e. The Eulogy of Voltaire reaa to the Royal Academy of Sciences and Belles Lettres at Berlin, at an EXTRAORDINARY MEETING appointed for THAT PURPOSE the 26th of November, 1778.: Berlin. 8vo.-In the usual course of things it is the poet who crowns the hero, but in the piece before us we find this order reversed, and see the hero twining a garland round the temples of the poet. We have also, here, another fingularity, viz. the mind of a Monarch, amidst the infirmities of unstable health, and the fatigues and cares of a campaign (which may be termed a military game at chess played by 200,000 men on each side) so tranquil as to enable him to employ his leisure moments, in composing the Eulogy of a Man of Letters. It is a great acquisition to have a mind thus at ease, nor is it disagreeable to shew it in this aspect; and, if we were Austrians in the Emperor's army, we should be less daunted at the march of a Prussian detachment, than at a sight of this Eulogy of Voltaire. Be that as it will, this Eulogy discovers in the Royal Author, a lover of letters, a protector of genius, and as good an orator as a King ought to be. as a King ought to be, for we think that what Ovid said of Majesty and Love (that they do not suit each other *), is much more applicable to Majesty and Oratory. Any thing that favours of effort and study, such as pompous imagery and high-sounding periods, is incompatible with Royal dignity, which is always supposed to operate with ease. What therefore a French overweening critic would call flat and heavy in many of the periods, and in some whole pages of this Royal production, we rather chuse to call majestic. There is, however, a kind of oratory in the tone of invective, which our Author (if we may speak thus familiarly) employs against the clergy, for their opposing a man who wanted to overturn the religion established in his Majesty's dominions, and in many other kingdoms, and to fend all its miniters--the Lord knows where. This circumstance of the clergy has given the King's eloquence an uncommon degree of energy in several passages : facit indignatio versus. But there is another circumstance attending this Eulogy, which redounds much to the honour of the Royal Author, and that is, the disinterested generosity of the praises he bestows on the character and memory of Voltaire ; for we are assured, upon the very best information, that his Majesty's encomiums on this famous poet could not poflibly be the effect of gratitude, but resembles more the exer

* Non bene eniunt nec in una fede morantur

Majestas et amor.

cise of one of the most difficult Chriftian virtues, even the loving them that do not love us.- God Save the King!

N. B. A translation of this Eloge in English is published: See our laf Month's Review.

III. Versuch einer Geschichte Carls des Grossen, &c. i. e. An Essay on the Life and History of Charlemagne. 8vo. Leipfic. The early Writers of the life and exploits of this great Prince have dishyured their relations by a multitude of dubious facts, ridiculous stories, and disgusting oblations of adulatory incense. All this indeed might naturally be expe&ted from these historians, who were almost all Monks (the only scholars of those times), fattened by the liberalities of their Sovercign, whom they accordingly represented as the most illustrious Saint of the Kalendar, and the greatest man of 'the age. Time has discovered truth, and truth has appealed from their decifions; and the Monarch in question, though superior perhaps to all the Princes of his time in valour and knowledge, stands justly charged with the most flagrant acts of iniquitous usurpation, ingratitude, and persecution. Charlemagne was certainly one of the most barbarous and bloody conquerors, that the records of history, at least modern history, exhibit to our view, and he seems to have been almost always under the empire of the moft turbulent and tumultuous pallions. The Author of this Elay has drawn his portrait, if we are not much mistaken, in truer colours than any preceding historian: he examines facts with a scrupulous attention; he has estimated without prejudice, the exploits and actions of this famous Prince, and has made the most judicious refections on the political revolutions that happened in his reign, and which were dire&tly or indirectly the effects of his activity and counsels, The Introduction, or Preliminary Discourse, prefixed to this work, contains a great number of new and judicious remarks on the ancient history of the Franks, and combats with great strength and plausibility of argument, the account given of them by Dr. Robertson, who represents thein as a favage and bar. barous people. He gives also an interesting account of the education of Charlemagne, in which he discovers the causes of two propensities that appeared early in this Prince, and adhered to him in the whole course of his life: the first was an enthufiaftic zeal for the interests of the church, which, nevertheless, he had the art of reconciling with his ambitious views, and the second was his determined and habitual taste for show, pomp, and magnificence. His wars with the Saxons, his campaigns in Lombardy, and many other important transactions of his reign, are judiciously discussed by our ingenious Author, who likewise refutes the opinion of the Abbé De Mably, that Charlemagne had totally changed the political conftitution of the Franks, and had



Rev. Feb. 1779.

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