an exhortation to suffer afflictions patiently. A conflict had with Sathan. Prin. by the assignment of Christopher Barker 1585. in 8.

His view of man's estate, wherein the great mercie of God in man's iustification is shewed, also is annexed a godly aduise touching marriadge. Printed by Georg Bishop and Tho. Woodcocke 1588. in 8." The second part of this very curious and valuable Catalogue shall be noticed in No. II.

Killing, no Murder.

THE famous pamphlet, entitled, "Killing, no Murder," which is said to have struck such a terror into the mind of Cromwell as to render the concluding part of his life miserable, though well known by name, has probably been seen by few present readers of the history of those times. Some brief account of it may therefore be no unac ceptable article for the bibliographical department of the Athenæum. The full title of this piece is, "Killing, no Murder: briefly discourst in Three Questions, fit for public view; to deter and prevent Single Persons and Councils from usurping Supreme Power. By William Allen." The real author, was Captain Silas Titus, afterwards Colonel, and celebrated for his speech in parliament in favour of excluding the Duke of York from the throne. It was first printed clandestinely in 1657, and was reprinted in 1659 with some additions. There is prefixed to it an address," To his Highness Oliver Cromwell," in which the writer ironically displays to him the great honour he shall acquire in dying for the people, and the unspeakable consolation it will be to him in the last moments of his life, to consider" with how much benefit to the world he is likely to leave it.” He also very plainly apprizes him of his own purpose by this writing,. "of hastening this great good."

After some introductory matter alluding to Sindercombe's late plot against the Protector, the author opens his subject with stating three questions: I. Whether my Lord Protector be a Tyrant or not? II. If he be, whether it is lawful to do justice upon him without solemnity, that is, to kill him. III. If it be lawful, whether it is like to prove profitable or noxious to the commonwealth?" With respect to the first question, he commences with the twofold definition of a tyrant, made by the civil law; one who governs without right, and one who rules tyrannically. He then discusses what it is which constituted a rightful sovereign, which he limits to the two titles of God's immediate command, and the people's choice. "This being considered (says he) have not the People of England much reason to ask the Protector, Who made thee a Prince and Judge over us? If God made thee, make it manifest to us. If the People, where did we meet to do it? Who took our subscriptions? To whom deputed we our authority? and when and where did those deputies make the choice?"

choice?" He goes on-" If to change the government without the people's consent: if to dissolve their representatives by force, and disannull their acts: if to give the name of the people's representatives to confederates of his own, that he may establish iniquity by a law: if to take away men's lives out of all course of law, by certain mur-¡ therers of his own appointment, whom he names a High Court of Justice: if to decimate men's estates, and by his own power to impose upon the people what he pleases; and to maintain all by force of arms; if, I say, all this does make a tyrant, his own impudence cannot deny but he is as compleat a one as ever hath been since there have been societies of men."

He then proceeds to mention a number of external and essential characters of tyranny, with a view to their application to Cromwell and his government; and having established the full title of the protector to the name of tyrant in both its senses, he takes up the second question, "Whether this be a beast of game, that we are to give law to, or a beast of prey to destroy?" He first shows by argument and authority, that a tyrant, who makes himself above all law, can' be no part of a commonwealth either as a magistrate or a citizen; whence he concludes that he can claim no protection from the laws or constitution. Further, as he is too strong to be amenable to any law, he becomes above all other justice than "that he receives from the stroke of some generous hand." "And certainly (says he) the safety of mankind were ill provided for, if there were no kind of justice to reach great villains, but tyrants should be immanitate scelerum tuti,' secured by the greatness of their crimes.' He pursues this idea first in a train of argument, and then with the authority of examples, drawn from the Greek and Roman history, and finally from the Old Testament, in the cases of Moses, Ehud, Samson, Samuel, and Jehoiada. In that of Ehud and the Moabite, he observes that the deliverance was affected by prayers and tears, with the help of a dagger; "for believe it, a tyrant is not that kind of devil that is to be cast out by only fasting and prayer."

He next takes notice of two objections, that may be made to the tyrannicide for which he has been arguing: I. That the examples from scripture are of men inspired by God, and who therefore had an authority for their actions, which cannot now be pleaded. To this he replies, "with learned Milton," that if God commanded these things, it is a sign that they were lawful and commendable: moreover, in the cases referred to, the perpetrators did not alledge any other reason for what they did, than retaliation and the justice of the action. II. The second objection is, that the government of Cromwell being now peaceably acquiesced in, and men following under it their usual occupations, the tacit consent of the people to his sovereignty may be presumed. In answer to this he observes, that if the mere regular pursuit of their usual business were to be interpreted as the people's consent, there never could have been a tyranny of any duration; for this, doubtless, must have taken place under a Nero, a Caligula,

Caligula, or any other tyrant whose power obtained an establish

ment.

Respecting the third question, whether the removing of this tyrant is likely to prove of advantage to the commonwealth? he thinks it is scarcely worth enquiring whether it is better that a man should die, than that his imposthume should be lanced, or his gangrened limb cut off. Yet as some may not be of that opinion, he enters into a consideration of the evils consequent upon submission to slavery. Of these one of the chief is the degradation of the national character, which he affirms already to have been effected to a lamentable degree. On this occasion he breaks out into the following spirited invective. Can any man think with patience upon what we have profest, when he sees what we vilely do and tamely suffer? What have we of Nobility but the name, the luxury and the vices of it? poor wretches, these that now carry that title, are so far from having any of the virtues, that they have not so much as the generous vices that attend greatness: they have lost all ambition and indignation! As for our Ministers, what have they, or, indeed, desire they of their calling but the tythes? How do these horrid prevaricators search for distinctions to piece contrary oaths? How do they rake scriptures for flatteries, and impudently apply them to his monstrous highness? What is the City but a great tame beast, that eats and carries, and cares not who rides it? What is the thing called a Parliament but a mock, composed of a people that are only suffered to sit there, because they are known to have no virtue, after the exclusion of all others that were but suspected to have any? What are they but pimps of tyranny, who are only employed to draw in the people to prostitute their liberty? What will not the Army fight for? What will they not fight against? What are they but janizaries, slaves themselves and making all others so? What are the People in general but knaves, fools and cowards, principled for ease, vice and slavery ?"

For all these evils the writer finds no other cure than removing the tyrant who has occasioned them: and he goes on to answer the objections that might occur against this measure. The first is, an opinion, that it were a generous action to kill his highness in the field, but unlawful to do it privately: "As if (says he) it were not generous to apprehend a thief till his sword were drawn, and he in a posture to defend himself and kill me." A tyrant has engaged so many in his support, that to destroy him by open force must endanger the public safety: he is "a devil that tears the body in the exorcising." Another objection is, lest he should have a successor worse than himself: but surely it is the height of folly to die of a disease, because there is hazard in the cure: to suffer a certain misery for fear of a contingent one."

Having hitherto spoken to Englishmen in general, he now addresses himself particularly to those who, with himself, "have fought for their liberties under this tyrant, and in the end, cozened by his oaths and tears, have purchased nothing but slavery with the price of their blood."

It is peculiarly, he says, their business to redress an injury which they have been the means of bringing on the nation; and it is also their interest, since they must always be the objects of his suspicion and dread. He then reverts to Sindercombe, whose attempt he ap, plauds in lofty terms, and whose death he attributes to the secret practices of the tyrant, causing him to be smothered in prison. He thus concludes: "There is a great roll behind, even of those that are in his own muster roll, that are ambitious of the name of the deliverers of their country; and they know what the action is that will purchase it. His bed, his table, is not secure, and he stands in need of other guards to defend him against his own. Death and destruction pursue him whithersoever he goes; they follow him every where like his fellow-travellers, and at last they will come upon him like armed men, &c. &c." No wonder that such a denunciation affected the usurper with that apprehension of domestic treason which was manifested by the armour under his cloathes, the pistols and dag, gers about his person, and the haggard and suspicious looks that ac companied the last wretched years of his life! Annexed to the pamphlet is a separate address which was meant to point its sting; To all Officers and Soldiers of the Army, that remember their engagements, and dare be honest." In this they are urged by every motive drawn from their past reputation and their present debasement, to redeem their character by destroying the tyrant whom they had set up. This, in fact, was the principal object of Cromwell's fears, and it probably would have taken place, had not a timely death saved him from such a catastrophe.

MEMOIRS OF DISTINGUISHED PERSONS.

Historical Memoir of the life and works of M. de Villaison; by M. Dacier, perpetual secretary to the national institute, read in the public silling of Friday, 11th of April, 1806.

JEAN BAPTISTE GASPARD D'ANSSE DE VILLOISON, member of the institute, of the legion of honour, of the academies of Berlin, Madrid, Gottingen, and of almost all the academies and learned socie ties of Europe, was born at Corbeille-sur-seine, on the 5th of March, 1750. His family came originally from Spain. Michael D'Anso, the first of his family who settled in France, came thither in 1615, in the suite of Anne of Austria, in whose service he was engaged, and obtained letters of naturalization, and confirmation of his former nobility. His son John was associated with him, and succeeded him. His grandsons embraced the profession of arms. One of them, Peter, a captain of dragoons, was slain in 1703 at the battle of Hochstet; the other, John, succeeded the celebrated Marquis de l'Hôpital as captain-lieutenant, in the colonel's company of Mestrede-Camp-general,

de-Camp-general, and was taken prisoner at the battle of Fleurus in 1690. He was the grandfather of M. de Villoison. His father, Jean Baptiste, was in his youth page of the stable to the king; he afterwards entered among the musketeers, and having reached the time requisite for obtaining the cross of St. Louis, soon after entirely quitted the service.

M. de Villoison began his studies at a very early age at the college of Lisieux, from which he removed to the college du Plessis. He distinguished himself in these two seminaries by the regularity of his application, and decided taste for the ancient languages, especially the Greek. This taste, increasing in proportion as he surrendered himself to it, became at length an exclusive passion, and he exchanged the college Du Plessis, for des Grassis, that he might attend with greater assiduity the Greek lectures there delivered by the learned M. le Beau, which attracted a great number of pupils. Formed and encouraged by such a teacher, if he still had rivals to encounter in Latin and French composition, he had none in Greek. In the competition which was annually proposed by the university, he obtained all the prizes destined to those who proved the superiority of taste in the language of Homer, with the exception of öne, which he lost in succeeding too well. A French translation was required, of rather a difficult passage in some Greek author. M. de Villoison easily surmounted the difficulty, and translated the passage with the hand of a master. But the masters judged like scholars. Having taken for their guide an erroneous Latin version, the faults of which, whether through inattention or ignorance, they did not discover, and observing that the translation given by M. de Villoison differed essentially from it, they concluded that he had misunderstood the passage, and refused him the prize, which he had merited. But such a defeat was a real triumph.

The progress made by Villoison was so remarkable and rapid, (that in a short time the lectures of M. le Beau, who was obliged to accommodate them to the capacities of the majority of his pupils, became useless to him, and could give him no further information. He therefore resolved to attend those of M. Capperonier, who held the office of Greek professor in the royal college of France with great reputation, whose lectures, more profound, and adapted to a more advanced state of proficiency, soon enabled him to make such progress, as to need no other instructor than his own study.

M. de Villoison had now reached that degree of knowledge, which many studious men would esteem themselves happy in having attained in the middle of their career; yet he had scarcely arrived at the age of fifteen years. At that early period he had perused almost all the writers of antiquity, poets, orators, historians, philosophers, and grammarians. To say that he had read them, is to say that their contents were deeply impressed in his memory, with their commentaries, glosses and scholia. His memory, at the same time ready and tenacious, retained without difficulty whatever he confided to it; and the impressions once received, were never to be effaced. Endowed · VOL. I.

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