permitted, as of yore, to fight a bloody and fatal battle in the streets of London, on the important point whose carriage was entitled to precedence. The sense that ambassadors are sent for other purposes has got rid of all this foppery. But, we would ask, might not the reformation be carried further? is it not worthy to be extended from the antechamber, where it has been achieved, into the cabinets themselves, where much, and of a most important character, remains to be done to simplify diplomacy? James I.'s witty character of an ambassador, that he was a man of quality sent to lie abroad for the good of his country, has, perhaps, been too deeply imprinted on the European system of conducting foreign relations. It is particularly unfavourable for the English nation, and advantageous for the political agents of other countries, who, by a dexterous employment of what is familiar to their habits, and alien to ours, have, for ages, been as remarkable for gaining as we for losing in diplomacy. An Englishman argues much as he handles his national weapon in a private quarrel. He can make a shift to apply one sound argument as substantial and as solid as a lead bullet, to the comprehension of his adversary, by whom it must often be admitted as sufficing. But, in the smallsword logic, the tierce and quarte of diplomatic finesse, he is almost sure to be foiled. The progress of time has thrown general light on all manufactures, trades, and even professions, and has dispelled the mist in which interested persons had involved them; the more that the mysteries, as

they were termed, attached to peculiar employments, have been removed, the more powerful has been the assistance they have received from true science. The same rule would doubtless apply to diplomatic arrangement, if conducted on a more frank, explicit, and open principle, than that of the tortuous détours, finesses, &c.—(we are glad the vocabulary is not English)-hitherto held almost inseparable from the science. The diplomacy of Napoleon was conducted with all states inferior in power, on the principle of sic volo sic jubeo, and his decisive argument was the circle which the Roman consul drew round the Eastern monarch. This put finesse and subterfuge much out of the question, and these were only resumed in his negotiations with Great Britain. On these occasions, the protracted contest, though maintained by the most able combatants, somewhat resembled that of men fighting in the armour of their great grandfathers. The old tricks of the diplomatic science, ever since this palpable exposure, have been falling into as much disrepute as Barbara Celarent. Its disguises are now too threadbare to serve the purpose of concealment. Above all, the selfish, narrow-minded, and most impolitic principle that each state ought to act, and had a right to act, for its own separate advantage, in seizing whatever advantage, craft, or superior force could secure for it, has been severely expiated by universal suffering, and though it cannot perhaps be altogether expelled from the bosoms of sovereigns and statesmen, will be no longer unblushingly avowed. The

time was when Joseph II., thinking he had a fair opportunity to subdue Turkey in Europe, gave the King of Prussia to understand very frankly, that the only rule of peace or war which sovereigns could be bound by, was the probability of their being defeated, or successful-in other words, the same principle on which gamesters draw near the hazard table, and highwaymen take the road.' This wretched system of senseless egoism, after having engaged Europe in such a succession of mutual injuries, aggressions, and wrongs, until, like skirmishes of the frogs and mice, the feuds were ended in the general subjugation of the continent, has been fortunately counteracted, and for the present exploded; and, we believe, most civilized states have arrived at the wholesome conclusion, that true policy does not consist in the struggles of a nation for its own aggrandizement, but in the union of the whole European republic towards promoting the peace and happiness of the civilized world. If this be now in a great measure recog nised as the object of public treaties, it seems to follow that an object so fair, and manly, and meritorious, will be best furthered by being stated and followed up by plans and arguments of the same candid character. Persons proposing each some

'See this unblushing avowal in a very interesting work, entitled, Mémoires d'un Homme d'Etat, which contains much authentic information concerning the state of Europe at the commencement, and during the progress of the French Revolution. We believe it is justly attributed to the pen of Prince Hardenberg, one of the few truly great statesmen of our own times.

sinister advantage to himself, naturally conceal their real objects under the jargon of contending attorneys, to whom peace is war. But men united in the honest purpose of seeking that which is best for the whole, get rid as soon as possible of the grimgribber of negotiation, and resort to the language of common reason and common sense, because that which is unquestionably just always gains by being made completely intelligible. A fair experiment of this nature was made long since, when the plain and downright integrity of Sir Andrew Mitchell was found too many for the refined policy of the wily Frederick, the most subtle of negotiators, and when the English ambassador, merely by dint of speaking truth, raised at once his own character and that of his country into weight and authority. The present time, too, is highly favourable for simplifying the subtleties of public diplomacy, since no minister ever could know better than our present premier the superiority of Corporal Trim's single thrust of the bayonet, the determined aim and irresistible vigour of which bears down all fine fencing in action, and all metaphysical subtleties in logic. Let us speak a frank word, for it is a true one. Subtlety is not our national characteristic, and when we engage in the recondite mazes of diplomacy, we attempt a game which we do not understand, and from which, therefore, we are not likely to rise winners. Since the time of Philip de Commines, who first made the remark, "the English have commonly lost in negotiation what they have gained in war." This

could not, surely, be the case, were our diplomacy conducted on the principles of plain reason and

common sense.

We ask pardon of our readers for a digression to which, in truth, the work before us affords no apology, since, differing in that particular from Montesquieu and Lord Littleton, the author of Hajji never suffers the lucubrations of his Persian to touch upon politics, whether of a general or national character, confining his subjects almost entirely to criticisms on manners and customs.

The ambassador-whose liberal mode of thinking, and shrewdness of perception of character, though mingled of course with national prejudice and a good deal of national roguery, are not to be disguised-is, we conclude, the same Mirza whose wit and talents excited a strong sensation in the fashionable world about eighteen or twenty years ago, and whose person, character, and manners made the subject of a small and agreeable pamphlet by Lord Radstock, which, though not published, was, we believe, pretty generally circulated. There was in the manner of Mirza all the address and dexterity of a courtier, with some points which seemed to indicate a deeper degree of reflection than we are accustomed to connect with the idea of a Mussulman. His repartees were often repeated at the time, and lost none of their effect in coming forth by the medium of bearded lips, from a head swathed round with a turban. His jests were regulated with much delicacy. He could, on occasions, be severe enough, but it was always when time and place