yed in
writing--a combination very rare in persons of the highest class in
literature.

The fame of Montesquieu, great as it was in his own country, was even
greater in foreign ones. In Great Britain in particular, the _Esprit
des Loix_ early acquired a prodigious reputation. It was read and
admired by all persons of thought and education. This was partly the
consequence of England being so much in advance of France in the
career of liberty--alike in matters civil and ecclesiastical. The new
ideas, hardy thoughts, and original conceptions of the great work met
with a ready reception, and cordial admiration, in the land of freedom
and the Reformation--in the country where meditation had so long been
turned to political subjects, contemplation to religious truth. But
another cause of lasting influence also contributed to the same
effect. Original genius is ever more readily and willingly admired in
foreign states than its own: a prophet has no honour in his own
country. He interferes too much with existing influences or
reputations. To foreigners, he is more remote--more like a dead man.
Human vanity is less hurt by his elevation.

The latter years of Montesquieu's life were spent almost entirely in
retirement at his paternal chateau of La Brede, varied occasionally by
visits to the great world at Paris. He was occupied in agriculture and
gardening--tenacious of his seignorial rights, but indulgent to the
last degree to his tenantry, by whom he was adored. Never was
exemplified in a more remarkable manner the soothing influence of the
recollections of a well-spent life on the felicity of its later years,
or the fountains of happiness which may be opened in the breast itself
from the calm serenity of conscious power and great achievement. He
conversed much, with the farmers and peasants on his estate, whose
houses he frequently entered, and whose convivialities, on occasion of
a marriage or a birth, he seldom failed to attend. He often preferred
their conversation to that of persons their superiors in rank or
information--"for," said he, "they are not learned enough to enter
into argument; they only tell you what they know, which frequently you
do not know yourself." Though he lived with the great when in Paris,
partly from necessity, partly from inclination, yet their society was
noways necessary to his happiness. He flew as soon as he could from
their brilliant assemblies to the retirement of his estate, where he
foun