vation, which, if it does not wound our pride, ought at least to awaken our caution. But this diplomatic evil is not the only, nor the greatest, mischief that results from this absurd preference: it moreover enables our enemies to disseminate their political principles, to carry on intrigues, to multiply the means of seduction, and to insure, by the agency of numberless scribblers, pamphleteers, poetasters, &c. the success of their dark and deep laid projects. They are already endowed with too many means of mischief, and possess all the skill and activity requisite to give them effect*. Why should we voluntarily increase their powers of attack, and by propagating their language, open a wider field of action to their baneful influence? Such conduct surely borders upon infatuation. In the next place, the propagation of the French language has produced no better effects in literature than in policy. If France has furnished the Republic of Letters with some finished models of theatrical excellence and exquisite specimens of ecclesiastical oratory, the only branches in which she excels; she has, on the other hand, inundated Europe with frivolous compositions, erotic songs, and lovesick novels, by which she has warped the public taste Monstrum; tot sese vertit in ora, En. lib. VII. from the classical rectitude of the preceding centuries; and inverting the natural process of the mind, turned it from bold and manly contemplations to languid and enervating trifles. Nay, she has done more. For the last sixty years, the genius of France, like one of those Furies* sometimes let loose to scourge mankind, and to ripen corrupted generations for destruction, has employed all its talents and all its attractions to confound the distinction of right and wrong, of truth and falsehood, to infect the heart with every vice, and to cloud the understanding with every error; to stop for ever the two great sources of human dignity and felicity, Truth and Virtue, and to blot out of the mind of man, the Sun, the soul of the intellectual world, even the Divinity himself. Such is the unvarying tendency of almost all the works which have issued from the French press, and been circulated in all the countries of Europe during the period above-mentioned, from the voluminous and cumbersome Encyclopedie down to the Declamations of Volney or the Tales of Marmontel, en petit format, for the accommodation of travellers. The truth is, that the appellation of French literature, at present, seems confined to the works of Voltaire and of his disciples, that is, to the infidel faction, excluding the nobler specimens of French genius, the productions of the age of Lewis XIV. and of the period immediately following that monarch's demise: and if we wish to know the effects which this literature produces upon the human mind, we need only cast our eyes upon those who are most given to it, Cui tristia bella En. vII. and the countries where it flourishes most. We shall find that impiety and immorality keep pace with it in private and public life, and that domestic and national disorder and misery are its constant and inseparable companions. France, where the pestilence begun, first felt its consequences, and still bleeds under its scourge. The Prussian court, actually degraded and despised, smarts under the punishment brought upon the monarchy by the French principles of the atheistic Frederic. The Russian Capital, now the theatre of every dark intrigue, treacherous plot, and foul indulgence, may ere long have reason to curse the impolicy of Catherine, who, by encouraging the language and the opinions of France, sowed the seeds of death and of dissolution in the bosom of her empire. Vipeream inspirans animam. The late unhappy sovereign fell a victim to their increasing influence; and it is difficult to say, whether the same passions, working on the same principles, may not at some future period produce a similar catastrophe. Such are the consequences of partiality to French literature, and such the last great curse which that nation, at all periods of its history the bane and the torment of the human species, has, in these latter times, brought upon the civilized world. Now let me ask once more, in the name of truth and of virtue, of interest and of patriotism, by what fatality Europe is doomed to encourage a language, the instrument of so much mischief, and to propagate a literature, the vehicle of poison and of desolation? What can induce her to furnish weapons of assault to a giant Power, that massacres her tribes, and ravages her fairest provinces, by supplying the means of communication, to facilitate the progress of armies already too rapid and too successful; and thus to prepare the way for her own final subjection? Surely such impolitic conduct must be the last degree of blindness, the utmost point of public infatuation. But, it may be asked, where is the remedy? The remedy is at hand. We have our choice of two languages, either of which may be adopted as a general medium of communication, not only without inconvenience but even with advantageLatin and Italian. Latin is the parent of all the refined languages in Europe; the interpreter of the great principles of law and of justice, or, in other words, of jurisprudence in all its forms and with all its applications: it is the depository of wisdom and of science, which every age, from the fall of Carthage down to the present period, has continued to enrich with its productions, its inventions, its experience: it still continues the necessary and indispensable accomplishment of the gentleman and of the scholar, and is the sole introduction to all the honourable and liberal professions. It still remains the most widely spread, of all languages, and its grammar is justly regarded for its clearness, its facility, and its consistency as the General grammar. Why then should we not adopt as an universal medium of intercourse this language universally understood; and why not restore to it the privilege which it had ever enjoyed, till the fatal conquests of Lewis XIV. spread the language and the vices of France over half the subjugated Continent? I need not enlarge upon the advantages that would result from the adoption of Latin, or shew how much it would disencumber and facilitate the progress of education: this much, however, I will observe, that the energy and the magnanimity of the Roman authors in this supposition made common, might kindle once more the flame of liberty in Europe, and again man the rising generation now dissolved in luxury and in effeminacy. But, if in spite of taste and of reason, this noble language must be confined to our closets and a modern dialect must be preferred to it, Italian, without doubt, is the most eligible, because it possesses the most advantages and is free from every objection. Of its advantages, I have already spoken; of its exemption from evils to which French is liable, I need to say but a few words. It can have no political inconvenience; it is not the language of a rival nation. Italy pretends not to universal dominion, either by sea or by land; it administers to the pleasures without alarming the fears of other nations. Its language is that of poetry and of music; it is spread over all the wide-extended coasts, and through all the innumerable islands, of the Mediterranean, and has, at least, a classic universality to recommend it to the traveller who wishes to visit the regions ennobled by the genius and by the virtues of antiquity. The general tenor of Italian is pure and holy. None of its great authors were infected with impiety, and not one of its celebrated works is tinctured, even in the slightest degree, with that poisonous ingredient. I have already mentioned the ease with which it may be acquired: all its sounds may be found in every language; and if it be difficult, perhaps impossible, for foreigners to acquire all the graces of its modulation, they may with very little labour make themselves masters of its essential parts, so as to express themselves with facility and with perspicuity. But it may perhaps be objected, that a change of diplomatic |