who, in his English Grammar, has this example in speaking of Johnson :

'Myself, than whom few men have been found more base, having in my dictionary described a pensioner as a slave of state, and having afterwards myself become a pensioner."

Nevertheless, Cobbett, who could thus taunt Johnson with inconsistency and baseness, presents in his person the most remarkable instance on record of similar baseness and inconsistency. In the work from which I have just quoted he is continually railing at the House of Commons, and describing it as the "Thieves' House," "a Den of Thieves," and so forth: and yet, in the face of all this, he, some years afterwards, put himself forward as a candidate for admission into this thievish fraternity, and, with no little self-complacency and pride, actually took his place as one of its members. In all this we have nothing but a new version of the Fable of "the Fox and the Grapes.' When Johnson compiled his Dictionary he had as little hope of ever becoming a favourite with the ministers of the Crown and a recipient of the Government bounty, as Cobbett had, at a subsequent period, of ever finding his way into the House of Commons. Each was the dupe of his own conceit; and each, after his fashion, thought he could show his independence by sneering at the object which he secretly coveted, but which he imagined to be beyond his reach.

Much of the blundering for which our prose writers are conspicuous, may be traced to their incautious adoption of foreign words and modes of expression. Among these there are few of more frequent occurrence than "sobriquet," commonly written "soubriquet," a word unknown to the French language; and "coûte que coûte," which invariably figures in the meaningless form of "coûte qui coûte," or "coûte qu'il coûte."

Every day we meet with the expression "a sous," the persons who employ it not being aware that the final s makes a plural of the word "sou." The use of "a sous," by Englishmen, is analogous to that of "un pence," so common among Frenchmen in those countries where the British currency is established.

An instance of this kind occurs in Chenevix. Speaking of the misapplication of epithets or surnames to the kings of France, he says:

"Some of the former kings were indeed misnamed, as Philip the August, who showed himself so petty in his conduct towards Richard of England."—Essay on National Character.

The error here arises from the supposed analogy between "Philippe Auguste," and such appellations as "Charles le Téméraire" and "Philippe le Bel," which has led the writer to mistake a proper name for a sobriquet. But the presence of the article le makes all the difference. The latter names are correctly translated "Charles the Bold," "Philip the

Fair;" while "Philippe Auguste" must be rendered by "Philip Augustus." To warrant the expression "Philip the August," the original should be "Philippe l'Auguste."

Chenevix is not the only English writer in whom this blunder occurs.

I think I have seen it stated somewhere that the author of the "Letters of Junius was ac

quainted with the French language. If he was, the acquaintance must have been exceedingly slight, as the following passage in one of the "Letters" would seem to indicate :

"Lewis the Fourteenth had reason when he said, 'the Pyrenees are removed.'”

The use of the expression "had reason," by so idiomatic a writer as Junius, can only be accounted for on the supposition that he had met with some remark in French to this effect: "Louis Quatorze avait raison quand il a dit qu'il n'y a plus de Pyrénées ;" and that, wishing to translate it into English, he rendered the words, "avait raison," in their literal sense, without being aware that the correct English of them is, "was right."

"Louis Quatorze was right when he said, 'the Pyrenees are removed.'"

Another example is furnished us by no less a personage than the late Duke of Newcastle. Writing to the "Standard" newspaper in March,

1845, his Grace concludes his letter with the words :

"J'ai tout perdu que mon honneur."

This is adopted from that remarkable saying of Francis the First, after the battle of Pavia : "Tout est perdu hormis l'honneur." The Duke was not particular as to the exact words, and he merely wished to express the same sentiment in good French. But see what he has made of it: "I have lost all that my honour." The word que sometimes expresses the English but, as in the phrase, "Je n'ai perdu que mon honneur," and that is what misled the Duke; but it never does so, unless when preceded by some negative particle, and that is what his Grace was probably not aware of.

An instance of this sort of blunder occurs in Mrs. Sigourney's "Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands." She is speaking of the discontent that prevailed in Paris in 1840, and remarks:

“Here and there cries were heard among the crowd, of ' À bas

les traiteurs !'"

There certainly is no lack of traiteurs in the good city of Paris: they are almost as numerous there as traîtres; but it is to be presumed that, on the occasion in question, the public exasperation was directed against the latter, and not against the unoffending "traiteurs."

Here is a sample from Sir Bulwer Lytton :

"A foreign writer has justly observed that we may judge of the moral influence of this country by the simple phrase, that a man is worth so much, or, as he translates the expression, 'digne tant.""-England and the English.

I apprehend that the translator here is no other than Sir Bulwer Lytton himself, inasmuch as no French writer, who understood the English words, would have used such an expression as digne tant," which means "worthy so much,' and not "worth so much." The French of the latter is "vaut tant."

There is no word in the French language that requires such cautious handling from a foreigner as the word "esprit." It is as versatile and multifarious as the people whose mental characteristic it so aptly represents; and in proportion to its versatility is the ill-usage to which it is daily subjected by English writers of every degree. One of the numerous meanings of this word occurs in the phrase "esprit de corps," frequently written "esprit du corps;" which, if it means anything, means "the spirit of the body." Lord Byron, in a letter to Moore, after using the French expression, asks with characteristic indifference: "Is it du or de, for that is more than I know ?"

A ludicrous application of the word " esprit " occurs in the following sentence in the "Dublin