THAT all philosophic history is nothing but a reproduction of the present under the garb and nomenclature of the past is, I think, a theory which might be sustained by strong arguments. We hear often of writers who are said to have thrown themselves successfully into the spirit of a bygone age; but of the justice of such a verdict there are― and can be by the nature of the caseno judges extant.

,,Was ihr den Geist der Zeiten heißt, Das ist im Grund' der Herren eigner Geist, In dem die Zeiten sich bespiegeln.“ So Faust declared, even before he had met with Mephistopheles; and, the more men study history, the more, I think, they will become sceptical as to the possibility of ever evoking the past out of your own consciousness. And, therefore, holding this faith, or want of faith, I should have been surprised if a man, writing at our present era, had been able to produce anything which seemed even a life-like representation of that state of men's minds and thoughts and hopes and fears, nineteen centuries ago, which rendered the Roman empire first a possibility and then a fact. I once heard of a very young man who, being present at a gathering of great authorities on AngloSaxon lore, earned a reputation for

We are glad that Mr. Dicey, in this article, should express his own sentiments respecting the Emperor and his book; but we may

sagacity by remarking with perfect truth that "after all, we knew very little about the history of early Britain." A similar confession might be made with advantage about any period removed from the memory of living men. And, therefore, to my mind, it is no impeachment on the last "Life of Cæsar" to say, that the Imperial author has failed to make the era which gave birth to his hero intelligible to us. Of all nations, the one least likely to produce a faithful limner of a past period is the French. It is at once the strength and weakness of the Gallic intellect that it is so eminently self-contained. With the representative Frenchman, all knowledge, and history, and science are confined within the limits of France. As far as I could ever discover, the real cause of the exceptional study which Frenchmen have always devoted to the history of Rome consists in a belief, whether mistaken or otherwise, that the great Republic was in some sense a prototype of France. No doubt the half Italian nature of the Buonaparte would cause the Emperor, as it caused his uncle, to regard Rome with an almost superstitious reverence; and traces of this Italian sentiment may be discerned frequently throughout the pages of the "Life of Cæsar." But, both for good and evil, the essence of this work is French; it is a book which none but a Frenchman could have written, or possibly, when it

Of the merits of this biography as a historical study it is not my purpose to speak. In the first place, the space I have at present at command is inadequate; in the second, this feature of the subject can only be discussed by experts in the matter of Roman history; and, in the third, if a searching criticism were required into the accuracy or inaccuracy of the statements made and the facts propounded, I am not the writer who should be selected for the task. All I desire to do in these brief comments is to point out the illustrations afforded by this remarkable work as to the theory of modern Imperialism. I see that amongst my brother reviewers it is the fashion to regard this book as a simple manifesto in favour of the Napoleonic rule. This theory I believe to be a mistaken one. Amongst men whom action has made famous, no desire is more common than that of achieving a reputation in the world of letters which shall endure beyond the memory of their lives. To be able to say, Exegi monumentum ore perennius is a wish which has agitated the heart of many a man, whose life will be always his best monument. It is impossible to read through this history of the foundation of the Roman Empire without perceiving that its author intends it to rank as a work of sterling historic value, as a book that will be read even when the Napoleons have vanished as completely as the Cæsars. If the Emperor had designed simply to vindicate his own dynasty under a Latin name, he would have chosen some more direct form of vindication, or, at least, would have treated of some one of the many phases of history which afford a closer parallel to his own era and to the part which he has taken in it. Yet, allowing all this, to his own contemporaries the chief interest of the book will reside in the glimpses afforded by it of the Imperial view of things as they are in our years of grace, not in those which date from the foundation of the eternal city. It will be for a future generation to judge of the work by its intrinsic

of a man who has made history and is still engaged in making it, must perforce look for the light it throws on the present and the future-not for that it casts upon the past. And my wish in this paper is to illustrate the moral to be drawn from those passages where the author obviously thought of France when he wrote of Rome, of the Napoleons when he wrote of the Cæsars.

The parallel between the first Napoleon and the first Cæsar seems to me to be by no means the main feature of what I may call the esoteric lesson of this latest treatise on the history of Rome. The volume just published only brings us to the triumvirate of Pompey, Crassus, and Cæsar; and the last named of the three had then scarcely commenced his attempt to overthrow the liberties of the Republic. The real object of these pages is to show that the state of Rome was such that the welfare of the community demanded a change-that the forms of freedom had ceased to represent any substantial benefits, and that a saviour of society was called for urgently. A similar defence is far more applicable to the usurpation of the third Napoleon than of the first. Amongst the countless accusations brought against the founder of the Napoleonic dynasty, the one of having destroyed a stable order of liberty to erect a despotism upon its ruins has never been urged seriously. Moreover it must be admitted fairly that in the eyes of Frenchmen the Great Napoleon needs no justification. It is in England only that Napoleonic worship has never made its way. With this scepticism I find no fault; but still I could wish that as a nation we had done fuller justice to what was grand and noble in the greatest of our enemies. To any one who has lived much in foreign countries -it matters little in what portion of the civilized world-there is something absolutely astonishing in the tone which even educated Englishmen adopt when speaking of the Emperor who, in the wild words of Victor Hugo, became at last so mighty that "il gênait Dieu !"

is so strong that we can hardly look upon Hogarth otherwise than as an advocate on the part of beer versus gin. In the latter years of the reign of George I. and in the earlier years of George II. the drinking of spirituous liquors, chiefly gin, was carried to such an excess that the moralists began to prognosticate a general dissolution of society. The town was filled with miserable little shops in which they were retailed, and troops of itinerant hawkers carried them about the

streets. The government of the day, influenced by the declamations of the zealous moralists and by the presentments of grand juries, resolved to interfere; but, instead of attempting to regulate and moderate the sale of spirits, they sought to suppress it altogether; and, in 1736, the celebrated Gin Act was passed, in the preamble to which it is stated "that the drinking of spi"rituous liquors, or strong waters, is "become very common, especially among "people of lower and inferior rank." To remedy this, a very heavy duty was levied upon all spirituous liquors, which was equivalent to a prohibition; and a no less heavy fine was levied on all persons who infringed or evaded the Act. The hawkers of "strong waters," whether male or female, were ordered to be "stript "naked from the middle upwards, and "whipt until his or her body be bloody." This measure encountered strong opposition at the time, and there were people who proclaimed publicly that it was contrary to Magna Charta and to the liberties of the subject. But there was a much more serious evil attendant upon it. While the result was not at all that which the advocates of the act expected for the sale of spirituous liquors was not suppressed, but merely thrown into the hands of a low and dishonest class-it exposed respectable people to persecution of a most frightful character. As the rewards for informations against those who infringed the act were considerable, society was invaded by gangs of infamous wretches who made a living by informing; and, as their statements were taken upon their own oaths, nobody was

not hesitate to revenge themselves by laying false informations against those who had offended them. Thus the Gin Act became more and more unpopular, until, after a very unsatisfactory trial of six years, the prohibition duties were repealed in 1742, and moderate duties substituted in their place.

Among the pamphleteers who engaged in the heat of the gin controversy, some tried to give it a political character. "Mother Gin" represented the populace, the mob. "The Life of Mother Gin" appeared in 1736 from the pen of an anonymous writer, who claimed the title-claimed by everybody who had no claim to it-of "an impartial hand." This remarkable matron was, we are told, of Dutch parentage, born in Rotterdam. Her father had been active in the faction opposed to the De Witts, and on that account had left his country and settled in England, where he obtained an act of naturalization and married an English woman of low rank. It will easily seem that there is much quiet and clever satire in all this. In spite of her low origin, the wife of the emigrant boasted of a rather large acquaintance among ladies of rank; "and, as to Mother "Gin herself, though she did not live in a constant intercourse of friendship with "persons of fashion, yet she was often "admitted into their confidence, and was "universally admired, and even idolized, "by the common people." Her father wished to give her a good education, but her English mother objected to it, judging that education was only detrimental to morals. Her father died when she was five-and-twenty, and her mother survived but a short time, and, as they were both dissenters, they were buried in the same grave in Bunhill Fields.

66

Although her parents were very lowchurch indeed, Mother Gin herself was high-church in her principles, and was a great and effectual supporter of Dr. Sacheverell. Indeed, her zeal in his cause contributed greatly to the change of the administration. The new ministry formed a just estimate of the political value of Mother Gin, and laboured to conciliate

existed only in name. The aqua mirabilis, which "cheered the heart," was made till the middle of the last century. Such was the case also with Dr. Stephens's water, which, according to a book printed at the date last mentioned, was then "in great demand in London." In the same book we learn that "Ratafia is not "much in demand, save in some particular "places where it has gain'd a great reputa"tion." Yet, in a later publication, the second edition of which, now before me, was printed in 1769, and which is entitled the "Professed Cook "—an adaptation "to the London Market" of a French book entitled "Les Soupers de la Cour"-we have still receipts for making "ratafiats," which are explained as meaning, in English, "sweet drams or cordials." In this book we have "ratafiats" of noyaux, of lemon-peel, of juniper-berries, of muscadine grapes, of anniseed, of apricocks (as this fruit was still called in England), of walnuts, of orange-flowers, and of cherries.

While many of the liqueurs previously in vogue were disappearing from fashionable society, a few new ones were intruding themselves into the list. The balance, however, was in favour of the past. Among the new ones was "honeywater," which was perhaps the metheglyn of the Welsh. Another liqueur, which was very fashionable during the earlier half of the last century, was called Hungary water; or, when its title was given more in full, the Queen of Hungary's water, because it was the reputed invention of a Hungarian queen. It was flavoured with herbs, especially rosemary, lavender, margeram, sage, and thyme. Another liqueur of the last century was named cardamum, or (popularly)" all fours," and was distilled from clove, caraway, and coriander seeds. But a "water" was introduced to the early part of the eighteenth century, which was destined to obtain a greater name and a greater popularity than all the rest. At first this new invention, which was brought from Holland, appears to have been known merely by the name of "juniper water," because it

It was better known, for some reason which is not quite clear, by the French name for the tree, genièvre, which was ordinarily corrupted to Geneva; and both were soon abbreviated into the popular name of gin. But, like everything popular, this liquor, at its first start, gained a number of aliases. "Geneva,"

says a work on distillery, published before the middle of the last century, "hath 66 more several and different names and "titles than any other liquor that is sold "here: as double Geneva, royal Geneva, "celestial Geneva, tittery, collonia, strike"fire, &c., and has gain'd such universal "applause, especially with the common "people, that, by a moderate computation, "there is more of it in quantity sold daily, "in a great many distillers' shops, than "of beer and ale vended in most public"houses." We might easily add to the list of popular names here given to gin in the earlier part of the last century. Bailey's Dictionary gives us, as synonyms -the first, more correctly-titire, royal poverty, and white tape, with an "&c." We can perfectly understand all this multiplicity of popular names and titles when we consider that previously the liqueurs, the "strong waters," had been mostly out of the reach of the lower classes of society, who were obliged, perhaps fortunately, to content themselves with the old English beverages, ale and beer. Gin was a spirit which could be sold cheap enough to come within the reach of the vulgar, and the consequence was a great rivalry between the old beer and the new gin. almanack of "Poor Robin," for the year 1735, expresses this feeling of rivalry in its usual doggrel style in the following lines:

The

"The winter's now a-coming in,
And Pocus loves a glass of gin;
Or, if it have another name,
The liquor still remains the same;
And, which is more, its virtues hold,
Be weather hot, or be it cold;
It melts the money down like wax,
And burns the garments from their backs."

Hogarth's celebrated engravings of Beer
Street and Gin Lane were published in

is so strong that we can hardly look upon Hogarth otherwise than as an advocate on the part of beer versus gin. In the latter years of the reign of George I. and in the earlier years of George II. the drinking of spirituous liquors, chiefly gin, was carried to such an excess that the moralists began to prognosticate a general dissolution of society. The town was filled with miserable little shops in which they were retailed, and troops of itinerant hawkers carried them about the streets. The government of the day, influenced by the declamations of the zealous moralists and by the presentments of grand juries, resolved to interfere; but, instead of attempting to regulate and moderate the sale of spirits, they sought to suppress it altogether; and, in 1736, the celebrated Gin Act was passed, in the preamble to which it is stated" that the drinking of spi"rituous liquors, or strong waters, is "become very common, especially among "people of lower and inferior rank." To remedy this, a very heavy duty was levied upon all spirituous liquors, which was equivalent to a prohibition; and a no less heavy fine was levied on all persons who infringed or evaded the Act. The hawkers of "strong waters," whether male or female, were ordered to be "stript "naked from the middle upwards, and "whipt until his or her body be bloody." This measure encountered strong opposition at the time, and there were people who proclaimed publicly that it was contrary to Magna Charta and to the liberties of the subject. But there was a much more serious evil attendant upon it. While the result was not at all that which the advocates of the act expectedfor the sale of spirituous liquors was not suppressed, but merely thrown into the hands of a low and dishonest class-it exposed respectable people to persecution of a most frightful character. As the rewards for informations against those who infringed the act were considerable, society was invaded by gangs of infamous wretches who made a living by informing; and, as their statements were taken upon their own oaths, nobody was

not hesitate to revenge themselves by laying false informations against those who had offended them. Thus the Gin Act became more and more unpopular, until, after a very unsatisfactory trial of six years, the prohibition duties were repealed in 1742, and moderate duties substituted in their place.

Among the pamphleteers who engaged in the heat of the gin controversy, some tried to give it a political character. "Mother Gin" represented the populace, the mob. "The Life of Mother Gin" appeared in 1736 from the pen of an anonymous writer, who claimed the title-claimed by everybody who had no claim to it-of "an impartial hand." This remarkable matron was, we are told, of Dutch parentage, born in Rotterdam. Her father had been active in the faction opposed to the De Witts, and on that account had left his country and settled in England, where he obtained an act of naturalization and married an English woman of low rank. It will easily seem that there is much quiet and clever satire in all this. In spite of her low origin, the wife of the emigrant boasted of a rather large acquaintance among ladies of rank; "and, as to Mother "Gin herself, though she did not live in

a constant intercourse of friendship with "persons of fashion, yet she was often "admitted into their confidence, and was "universally admired, and even idolized, "by the common people." Her father wished to give her a good education, but her English mother objected to it, judging that education was only detrimental to morals. Her father died when she was five-and-twenty, and her mother survived but a short time, and, as they were both dissenters, they were buried in the same grave in Bunhill Fields.

Although her parents were very lowchurch indeed, Mother Gin herself was high-church in her principles, and was a great and effectual supporter of Dr. Sacheverell. Indeed, her zeal in his cause contributed greatly to the change of the administration. The new ministry formed a just estimate of the political value of Mother Gin, and laboured to conciliate