under the shadow of their own laurels; yet what strange contrasts will his memoirs present! Now a wanderer in the deserts of the East–then comparing the empire of yesterday with the progress of to-day in the United States—now in the midst of the classical mania which caricatured the horrors of the French revolution—next meditating on their realities amid the ruins of Rome. First an impoverished exile in England, and in the course of a few years an ambassador at our Court. The genius of Chateaubriand is best characterized by the word—picturesque. In the North, he dwells with delight on the massive cathedrals, where painted windows shed
"A dim, religious light;"
and on the fallen castles, where the ivy is now the only banner. In the South, he is impressed with the cedar rising like a natural temple, and with the stately relics of
"The marble wastes of Tadmor."
He was the first who introduced into French literature that feeling for the beauty of nature, and that tendency to reverie, which are of Scandinavian origin. But we shall give the more accurate idea of a very remarkable work, by selecting portions for examination. We shall therefore pass in review the observations on Luther, Shakspeare, Milton, Scott, and Byron.
Luther.—The characteristic of our author's mind which we have called picturesque is essentially opposed to a just appreciation of Luther. He clings with regret to the golden chalices and fragrant incense of Catholicism. He forms, in his mind’s eye, the picture of a monk after one Guido's head, "pale, penetrating, and spiritual;" and "Christ, at once a pontiff and a victim, lived in celibacy, and quitted the earth at the close of his youth." Such is the ideal, but it is the ideal only. Neither is the following image more accurate:—"Like Socrates, Protestantism may be said to have called minds into existence; but, unfortunately, the intelligences which it has ushered into life are only beautiful slaves." Are such minds as those of Bacon and of Locke only "beautiful slaves?" and can the many channels of inquiry thrown open by the Reformation be considered other than as conduits to truth? We are quite prepared to admit that we do not do justice to the beneficial influence exercised by the Catholic church on the darker ages. It was the republic of the time, supported by democratic talent. The man of ability found in the church his theatre of action; all other avenues to power or to distinction were barred by the sword, which was given as a birthright to the noble. But in the ranks of the Catholic faith the equality, or rather the superiority of intellect was asserted; and when king and chief knelt at the chair of St. Peter, it was the triumph of thought over strength—it was the weak mind subjugated by the strong. But, as usual, the authority outlived its necessity—other influences began their activity; and again, as usual, one of those men arose who embody their epoch, and carry its spirit into action. That man was Luther. He was an enthusiast—enthusiasm is needed for action; calculation never acts—it is a passive principle. He was fierce, angry, and governed by impulse; but we must remember the old Greek proverb, "Motives are from man, but impulse is from Heaven." These qualities only the better fitted the instrument to its purpose. It is touching
