more liable to dry rot than Baltic timber; and that for the purposes of ship and house-building, it is not possessed of half the durability of the latter. Yet, in despite of this unanswerable evidence, Baltic timber still continues burdened with a duty of 45s. a-load more than is laid on the timber of Canada! And it has been shown, by papers printed by order of the House of Commons, that the revenue would gain about L.1,500,000 a-year, were the same duty laid on the timber of Canada that is laid on the timber of the Baltic.

This system ought certainly to be put an end to. So long as Canada continues connected with us, she is entitled to fair and friendly treatment at our hands. But it is enough, surely, that we should expend from L.500,000 to a million a-year in defending and governing a colony from which we derive no greater advan tage than from Denmark or Naples, without at the same time sacrificing L.1,500,000 a-year, that she may glut our markets with inferior timber, and inoculate our ships and houses with dry rot. It would be better to pay a million and a half annually by way of bounty on the clearing of ground in Canada, than to continue the present system, which has the double disadvantage of being exceedingly expensive, and of forcing the use of a comparatively worthless article.

Without entering farther at present into details, it must, we think, be evident to every one, that it is in the power of ministers to make a very large addition to the revenue, by merely reducing or modifying those taxes that have been carried to an oppressive height. By taking a third from the duties on sugar and tobacco, a half from those on brandy and geneva, and equalizing those on timber, we are satisfied that ministers would, in a very short period, add three millions a-year to the revenuea sum which would more than compensate for the loss of the duties on coal, as well as for those on glass, calicoes, paper, &c. We do not ask of Mr Goulburn to sacrifice revenue; we merely ask of him to do what Mr Pitt did-to reduce those duties. that have been carried to an oppressive height. Principle and experience equally demonstrate, that the revenue will be very much increased by such a proceeding.

We were much gratified with that part of Mr Goulburn's speech, in which he stated, that after full and mature consideration, ministers had decided not to propose the introduction of a property tax. In this, we think, they have acted wisely. We do not see the justice of laying taxes on the holders of property, from which professional persons are to be exempted. But, supposing the fairness of such a tax were admitted in the abstract,

still we should object to it, except as an extraordinary resource, from the impossibility of assessing it with any thing like tolerable equality. It might, perhaps, be pretty fairly assessed upon landed and funded property, without a great deal of difficulty, but upon nothing else. How would it be possible to ascertain the value of the property vested in ships, machinery, mines, floating securities, and so on? And yet no one, surely, will pretend that such property ought to be less heavily taxed than land. An income tax is less unequal, and consequently less objectionable, than a property tax; and were it possible fairly to assess it, it might probably be introduced with advantage, as a regular source of revenue. But the condition in question is an impossible one. It is, and will, we apprehend, continue to be, quite impracticable to ascertain the property or income of different individuals; and any tax proportioned either to the one or the other, must really, under the pretence of equality, be the most grossly unequal that can be imagined. The only argument that has recently been brought forward in defence of a property tax is, that it would affect the incomes of absentees, who, in consequence of the drawing back of the duties on exported commodities, elude in a great degree the pressure of taxation. But, instead of lessening absenteeism, we are well convinced that the imposition of a property tax would increase it in a threefold proportion. It would immeasurably increase the temptation to go abroad; for every one has an infinitely greater dislike to make a direct money payment to the tax-gatherer, than to pay an equal, or even greater sum, indirectly, through the intervention of duties on the articles he consumes. Besides increasing the temptation to go abroad, a property tax would induce absentees to do what they rarely do at present, that is, to carry their capitals along with them. Absenteeism would then become a real injury; and we should not only introduce a partial and unequal tax, but rapidly lessen the capital out of which it and all other taxes must be paid.

What the country really wants is not a new system of taxation, but an improvement in the system now in use. By reducing some duties, and repealing a few others, the pressure of taxation may be greatly alleviated, without the revenue being in any degree diminished.

ART. XI.-Marino Faliero. Par M. CASIMIR DELAVIGNE, 8vo. Paris. 1829.

IF F an estimate could be made of the arts, customs, and opinions for which England and France have been indebted to each other, we think it would be found, that the balance is considerably in our favour. We are not insensible of the benefits conferred upon us by the introduction of female fashions, and more enlarged and liberal principles of cookery; but we would humbly propose, that for these advantages, tilburies and horseracing may be accepted in part of repayment. To the refinements of social life, we will maintain that we have contributed as much as we have received; and if it should be urged, that we are notorious plagiarists in trifles, we may plead, that frivolous imitation has been no less prevalent in France, and that we have no word in our vocabulary that corresponds with Anglomanie. These grave matters being settled, we may ask, how stands the account between us with respect to science, literature, and political knowledge? Every part of this comprehensive question has, we believe, already been satisfactorily answered in the Edinburgh Review, with the exception of that which refers to a single department of literature-the Drama; to which, as it has not yet been noticed, we will now advert. Natio comœdia est,' may be truly said of the French. There is no portion of their literature of which they are so proud, as of their Drama,-none on behalf of which they have so loudly claimed for themselves the attributes of superior taste, none which they have so rigidly guarded against innovation, and protected from the influence of foreign models; and yet, that even in this department we have gained a victory, will scarcely now be contested. An almost literal translation of one of those farces monstrueuses qu'on appelle tragédies (to quote the language of Voltaire) has been received with applause at Paris; and Shakspeare, the saurage irre, the gros fumier, installed with Racine and Corneille in the most pre-eminently classical of their theatres. After such a result, it may be not uninteresting to trace the progressive influence which the dramatic literature of England has exerted upon that of France.

It is now rather more than one hundred years since Voltaire first assumed the merit of having discovered England, and began to teach his countrymen that more notable things might be said of us than that we cut off the heads of our kings, and the tails of our horses; that we had many religions, and only one sauce. These characteristics, and a few others,-as, that we were hard drinkers, and good sailors; that the soldiers of Marlborough

were not to be despised; and, alas! that we had contrived, under the auspices of Charles II., to exhibit a coarse copy of the profligacies of Versailles,—were probably known to many; but few knew that we had a literature. The profound ignorance of the French on this subject extended even to those who professed to make literature the object of their enquiries. Bossu, Bouhours, and Rollin, wrote as if the English language were not in existence; and Moreri, in his bulky Biographical Dictionary, totally omits Dryden, dismisses Shakspeare with a few lines, observes of Milton that his poetry passes for good in England, but evidently considers the production of Paradise Lost one of his least claims to notice, and sees in him scarcely more than the secretary of Cromwell, and the adversary of Salmasius. Voltaire was the first who called the attention of France to the literature of England. He was the first adventurous traveller who ventured to pass that Chinese wall of ignorance and presumption which then circumscribed the intellects of his countrymen; and though he may not have comprehended the true use and beauty of all that he saw in the new region which lay before him, he will still have deserved from them the honours due to a discoverer. It is true, he neither fully demonstrated the fertility of the soil, nor detected many veins of hidden ore; but he made a respectable survey of the surface of the land, and encouraged others to follow him. He was, with some exceptions, well qualified for the office of an explorer. He had a keen perception of defects, and a shrewd worldly sense of the utility of much that met his eye,-but his was not the eye of a poet. He admired the freedom of our institutions, and was fully aware of the merits of Newton, Locke, and Berkeley. He could praise the correctness of Addison, the smoothness of Waller, and the vigour of Dryden; pronounce Pope to be a skilful satirist, and detect a mine of wit in Butler; but of the still higher portion of our literature, he had scarcely any comprehension. Milton perplexed him, and Shakspeare he did not understand.

Voltaire has been commonly classed among the admirers of Shakspeare. We have been pleased in regarding him as one who paid unwilling homage,-who, with hatred at his heart, worshipped in secret, and strove, like a cunning burglar, first to purloin the treasure, and then burn down the fair mansion that contained it. Thus has Voltaire been regarded; and, we think, erroneously. We believe that his ridicule of Shakspeare was more sincere than his admiration. We are inclined to acquit him of any envious desire to tarnish the glory of our poet; but we are unwilling to admit that he had the power to comprehend from whence that glory resulted. Why he should have profess

ed to admire Shakspeare is easily explained. He admired England, and was disposed to view with favour any object of English preference. Moreover, it suited the liberalism of his opinions to applaud our daring dramatist who showed that kings are but men, and would pourtray without scruple the vices of a priest. He appears in the outset to have viewed him, rather mistakenly, as an esprit fort of his own complexion, and one whose sentiments might be turned to advantage in the crusade he was then meditating against the Church and State of France. Had there been any thing anti-Christian in the works of Shakspeare, his applause would probably have been still louder; but he found not the ingredients which he sought; and hence, perhaps, his subsequent regret at having, as he said, encouraged bad taste, by ' enshrining the monster by the side of Corneille.' That he did not understand Shakspeare, will appear from this, that he knew not either how to praise or to imitate him. He wished to exhibit to his countrymen a specimen of our dramatist, which might justify the praises he had expressed; and what did he select? what powerful and characteristic scene? Did he show them Lear awaking from sleep,-Macduff apprised of the murder of his family,-John half-uttering his commands to Hubert,or any one of those many other striking scenes which the recollection of our readers will readily supply? No; he presented to them a feeble paraphrase of Hamlet's soliloquy on death, which, though on some accounts deservedly admired, is perhaps less poetical, less eloquent, less imbued with the peculiar spirit of Shakspeare, than any other popular passage in the whole compass of his works. We will venture to confess, that we are rather heretically insensible to the merits of this celebrated monologue. Its want of poetical power does not seem to be compensated for by any peculiar excellences of an argumentative kind; and, unless the whole is intended for the mystification of Polonius, who is a not unsuspected listener, the doubts which are agitated respecting a future state will, we think, be allowed to have been placed rather inconsistently in the mouth of one who has lately conversed with a visitant from the tomb. But the soliloquy had the double advantage of being sceptical and popular; and Voltaire accordingly selected it as a specimen by which his countrymen might be enabled to judge of Shakspeare, -presenting them, not with a literal translation, but an imitation in verse, which is really a curiosity, inasmuch as some degree of patient attention is requisite, in order to discover the slightest resemblance. But it may be said, that Voltaire was malicious in his praise, and did not wish that his countrymen should be enabled to judge favourably of the English poet. We will not