are
insisted on, which only shows that Aristotle's art goes but little to
the composition of a pathetic tragedy. In his last drama, "Arminius,"
he extravagantly scatters his panegyrics on its fifteen predecessors;
but of the present one he has the most exalted notion: it is the
quintessence of Scudery! An ingenious critic calls it "The downfall of
mediocrity!" It is amusing to listen to this blazing preface:--"At
length, reader, nothing remains for me but to mention the great Arminius
which I now present to you, and by which I have resolved to close my
long and laborious course. It is indeed my masterpiece! and the most
finished work that ever came from my pen; for whether we examine the
fable, the manners, the sentiments, or the versification, it is certain
that I never performed anything so just, so great, nor more beautiful;
and if my labours could ever deserve a crown, I would claim it for this
work!"

The actions of this singular personage were in unison with his writings:
he gives a pompous description of a most unimportant government which he
obtained near Marseilles, but all the grandeur existed only in our
author's heated imagination. Bachaumont and De la Chapelle describe it,
in their playful "Voyage:"

Mais il faut vous parler du fort,
Qui sans doute est une merveille;
C'est notre dame de la garde!
Gouvernement commode et beau,
A qui suffit pour tout garde,
Un Suisse avec sa hallebarde
Peint sur la porte du chateau!

A fort very commodiously guarded; only requiring one sentinel with his
halbert--painted on the door!

In a poem on his disgust with the world, he tells us how intimate he has
been with princes: Europe has known him through all her provinces; he
ventured everything in a thousand combats:

L'on me vit obeir, l'on me vit commander,
Et mon poil tout poudreux a blanchi sons les armes;
Il est peu de beaux arts ou je ne sois instruit;
En prose et en vers, mon nom fit quelque bruit;
Et par plus d'un chemin je parvins a la gloire.

IMITATED.

Princes were proud my friendship to proclaim,
And Europe gazed, where'er her hero came!
I grasp'd the laurels of heroic strife,
The thousand perils of a soldier's life;
Obedient in the ranks each toilful day!
Though heroes soon command, they first obey.

'Twas not for me, too long a time to yield!
Born for a chieftain in the tented field!
Around my plumed helm, m