Retrospect of French Literature—Miscellanies. 
shall conclude. Before an orator exe 
presses any sentiment, he should always 
exhibit the yesture appropriate to it. 
Two months after I had discovered the 
propriety of this, I happened to repair to 
Bourdeaux, and was proud to find, on 
perusing the manuscripts of Montesquieu, 
that this great man was also accustomed 
to do so. 
“ Vanietés, &c.”—Varieties. 
“ A Dialogue between the Plough and 
the Spade ;” by Citizen Lalauze. 
In one of those periods of leisure, 
when the farmer allows the partners of, 
his toils to enjoy rest with himself, the 
Plough, the Spade, and Harrow, conversed 
together in nearly the following manner : 
The Plough.—Drawn by pampered 
steeds that submit to my yoke, my labours 
assume the appearance of a triumph: 
nothing can equal the quickness of my 
Operations. IL furrow the earth, and 
open its bosom, in order to deposit there 
the germ of the riches of nations. My 
success is demonstrated ‘by those abun- 
dant harvests, which spread prosperity 
évery where around me. 
The Spade.—I, on my part, am slow, 
bat sure. You open large furrows— 
mine are deep ones. If the power 
which puts you in motion could but ex- 
ercige its action on me, I should then 
equal you in quickness, and surpass you 
in the perfection of my work. 
The Plough—More than one hero 
has guided me, and has not left me, but 
in order to fly to battle: that over, de- 
scending from the triumphal car, he has 
decked me with his laurels, 
Lhe Spade.—Faithful companion of 
the poor and humble inhabitant of the 
country, [modestly cultivate that portion 
of the earth which provides for all his 
wants; 1 am your successfrl rival in 
those labours, and the sweat with which 
he bedews me, is the homage he offers to 
my usefulness, 
Lhe Plough.—I possess decidedly the 
advantage of celerity over you: what 
can you oppose in point of perfection ? 
The Spade.—The opinion of the very 
labourer, who employs us in his different 
Operauions, 
The Plough.—Indeed! Let us call in 
our sister, the Harrow, then, who has 
-been listening to us all this while, as an 
an arbitrator, 
The Harrow.—Well! neither of you 
performs any work that is not finally 
submitted to my censure: the labours of 
both pass through my teeth, before they 
ean be deemed perfect. 
will dispute my rightof decision? 
After this, who _ 
713 
The Spade.—Our sister is, in the 
right. 
Lhe Plough.—I consent the more wil- 
lingly to appeal to her arbitration, be- 
cause her judgment will be founded on 
facts. / 
The Harrow.—When I travel over the 
labours of the plough, I seldom arrive at 
the end of the furrow without depositing 
roots or herbs, which form an obstacle to 
my operations. IfTI pass across a space 
dug by the spade, I reach the conclusion 
of my journey without any embarrass- 
ment. ‘These facts form the basis of the 
judgment, which you yourselves may de- 
cide upon. ne 
The Spade—I may now conclude, 
without vanity, that my work is preferable 
to that of the plough, ete 
The Plough.—I appear in so many dif- 
ferent forms, that the determination of 
our sister may be founded on those that 
are the least favourable to my labours. 
The Hurrew.—Vhe variety of your 
forms has contributed but little to your- 
utility, for I always experience the sameé 
fatigue, when I put the last hand to your 
work, Imitate the modesty, and above 
all, the good sense of the Spade: it ‘has 
often been attempted to introduce 
changes in the manner of its action, but: 
always with disadvantage. 
Lhe Spade.——That is very true, and 
indeed I am now thoroughly convinced 
that Iam indebted for most of my ad- 
vantages to the force and address of that 
Vigorous arm which puts me in motien. 
He who pretends to give me another 
agent, has perhaps never reflected on, 
nor -examined my play in the hands of 
man. By a line inclined towards the 
horizon, I at first form an acute, which 
inmediately leads to a right angle; then 
a robust foot, aided by the whole weight 
of a body that bends over me, forces 
down my edges to a considerable dis« 
tance in the earth; on, this my handle, 
Serving as a lever, the same hand, as- 
sisted by the body which leans upon it, 
returning me from aright angle to a state | 
of parallelism, m order to overcome the 
resistance of the mass with which I am 
charged ; this same mass Is turned over 
in such @ manner, that fertility imme- 
diately ensues. Agitated in all directions, 
I at length serve as a mace, to break 
clods which I have torn up. By means 
of another operation, I either scatter the 
dung on the surface, or bury it entirely 
under the soil. - Let art imitate, if itcan, 
this exercise, which in the hands of a 
Inan is a mere sport. 
Lhe Harraw.—You may set the world 
at 
