must possess some intelligence to be able to read him, for he deliberately curtails developments and omits transitions; we are required to supply these and to comprehend his hidden meanings.  He is rigorously systematic but the system is concealed, his concise completed sentences succeeding each other separately, like so many precious coffers or caskets, now simple and plain in aspect, now superbly chased and decorated, but always full.  Open them and each contains a treasure; here is placed in narrow compass a rich store of reflections, of emotions, of discoveries, our enjoyment being the more intense because we can easily retain all this for a moment in the palm of our hand.  “That which usually forms a grand conception,” he himself says, “is a thought so expressed as to reveal a number of other thoughts, and suddenly disclosing what we could not anticipate without patient study.”  This, indeed, is his manner; he thinks with summaries; he concentrates the essence of despotism in a chapter of three lines.  The summary itself often bears the air of an enigma, of which the charm is twofold; we have the pleasure of comprehension accompanying the satisfaction of divining.  In all subjects he maintains this supreme discretion, this art of indicating without enforcing, these reticences, the smile that never becomes a laugh.

“In my defense of the ‘Esprit des Lois,"’ he says, “that which gratifies me is not to see venerable theologians crushed to the ground but to see them glide down gently.”

He excels in tranquil irony, in polished disdain,[16] in disguised sarcasm.  His Persians judge France as Persians, and we smile at their errors; unfortunately the laugh is not against them but against ourselves, for their error is found to be a verity[17].  This or that letter, in a sober vein, seems a comedy at their expense without reflecting upon us, full of Muslim prejudices and of oriental conceit;[18] reflect a moment, and our conceit, in this relation, appears no less.  Blows of extraordinary force and reach are given in passing, as if thoughtlessly, against existing institutions, against the transformed Catholicism which “in the present state of Europe, cannot last five hundred years,” against the degenerate monarchy which causes useful citizens to starve to fatten parasite courtiers[19].  The entire new philosophy blooms out in his hands with an air of innocence, in a pastoral romance, in a simple prayer, in an artless letter[20].  None of the gifts which serve to arrest and fix the attention are wanting in this style, neither grandeur of imagination nor profound sentiment, vivid characterization, delicate gradations, vigorous precision, a sportive grace, unlooked-for burlesque, nor variety of representation.  But, amidst so many ingenious tricks, apologues, tales, portraits and dialogues, in earnest as well as when masquerading, his deportment throughout is irreproachable and his tone is perfect.  If; as an author, he develops a paradox it is with almost