mising auguries, drove over the bodies of these wretched the subterranean palace, resolved that his expedition should be uncommonly splendid. "The great standard of the caliphat was displayed; twenty thousand lances shone round it; and the caliph, treading on the cloth of gold which had been spread for his feet, ascended his litter amidst the general acclamations of his subjects.' The impious enterprise is interrupted by various portentous omens-by darkness, fire, and tempest-and at length the party get bewildered among the mountains. The good Emir Fakreddin, hearing of their perplexity, sends two dwarfs laden with fruit to regale the commander of the faithful, and invites the expedition to repose in his 'happy valley.' Vathek consults his tablets, which forbid such a visit; but rather than perish in the deserts with thirst, he resolves to go and refresh himself in the delicious The chief of the eunuchs, trembling with fear, valley of melons and cucumbers. Here the caliph besought Vathek that a fire might be kindled. 'No, becomes enamoured of the emir's daughter, the replied he, 'there is no time left to think of such trifles; lovely Nouronihar, who is betrothed to her young Having thus spoken, he presented his hand to Nouabide where thou art, and expect my commands.' cousin, Gulchenrouz. His passion is returned, and, while luxuriating in the valley, screened from the ronihar, and, ascending the steps of a vast staircase, reached the terrace, which was flagged with squares of eyes of intruders, listening to the voice and lute of Nouronihar, drinking the fragrant and delicious marble, and resembled a smooth expanse of water, wine of Shiraz, which had been hoarded up in upon whose surface not a blade of grass ever dared to bottles prior to the birth of Mohammed,' or eating before the ruins of an immense palace, whose walls vegetate. On the right rose the watch-towers, ranged manchets prepared by the hands of Nouronihar, were embossed with various figures. In front stood Vathek entirely forgot the object of his expedition, forth the colossal forms of four creatures, composed of and his desire to visit the palace of fire. Carathis the leopard and the griffin, and though but of stone, being informed of the fascination which detained inspired emotions of terror. Near these were distinhim, ordered her camel and attendants, and set off guished, by the splendour of the moon, which streamed for Fakreddin. There she encountered her sensual full on the place, characters like those on the sabres of son, and prevailed upon him to continue his journey the Giaour, and which possessed the same virtue of and complete his adventure. Nouronihar accom-changing every moment. These, after vacillating for panies the caliph in his litter. In four days they some time, fixed at last in Arabic letters, and prescribed reached the spacious valley of Rocknabad, and, to the caliph the following words: "Vathek ! thou hast having devoted two days to its pleasures, proceeded violated the conditions of my parchment, and deserveth towards a large plain, from whence were discern- to be sent back; but in favour to thy companion, and, ible, on the edge of the horizon, the dark summits as the meed for what thou hast done to obtain it, Eblis of the mountains of Istakar. One of the beneficent permitteth that the portal of his palace shall be opened, genii, in the guise of a shepherd, endeavours to and the subterranean fire will receive thee into the arrest Vathek in his mad career, and warns him number of its adorers.' that beyond the mountains Eblis and his accursed dives hold their infernal empire. That moment, he said, was the last of grace allowed him, and as soon as the sun, then obscured by clouds, recovered his splendour, if his heart was not changed, the time of mercy assigned to him would be past for ever. Vathek audaciously spurned from him the warning and the counsel. 'Let the sun appear,' he said; 'let him illume my career! it matters not where it may end.' At the approach of night, most of his attendants escaped; but Nouronihar, whose impatience, if possible, exceeded his own, importuned him to hasten his march, and lavished on him a thousand caresses to beguile all reflection. [The Hall of Eblis.] He scarcely had read these words before the mountain against which the terrace was reared trembled, and the watch-towers were ready to topple headlong upon them. The rock yawned, and disclosed within it a staircase of polished marble that seemed to approach the abyss. Upon each stair were planted two large torches, like those Nouronihar had seen in her vision; the camphorated vapour of which ascended and gathered itself into a cloud under the hollow of the vault. * # The caliph and Nouronihar beheld each other with amazement at finding themselves in a place which, though roofed with a vaulted ceiling, was so spacious and lofty that at first they took it for an immeasurable plain. But their eyes at length growing familiar to the grandeur of the surrounding objects, they extended their view to those at a distance, and discovered rows of columns and arcades which gradually diminished till they terminated in a point radiant as the sun when he darts his last beams athwart the ocean. The pavement, strewed over with gold-dust and saffron, exhaled so subtle an odour as almost overpowered them. They, however, went on, and observed an infinity of censers, in which ambergris and the wood of aloes were continually burning. Between the several columns were placed tables, each spread with a profusion of viands, and wines of every species sparkling in vases of crystal. A throng of genii and other fantastic spirits of either sex danced lasciviously at the sound of music which issued from beneath. In this manner they advanced by moonlight till they came within view of the two towering rocks that form a kind of portal to the valley, at the extremity of which rose the vast ruins of Istakar. Aloft, on the mountain, glimmered the fronts of various royal mausoleums, the horror of which was deepened by the shadows of night. They passed through two villages, almost deserted; the only inhabitants remaining being a few feeble old men, who, at the sight of horses and litters, fell upon their knees and cried out: 'O heaven! is it then by these phantoms that we have been for six months tormented! Alas! it was from the terror of these spectres, and In the midst of this immense hall a vast multitude the noise beneath the mountains, that our people have was incessantly passing, who severally kept their right fled and left us at the mercy of the maleficent spirits!' hands on their hearts, without once regarding anything The caliph, to whom these complaints were but unpro-around them. They had all the livid paleness of death. Their eyes, deep sunk in their sockets, resembled those phosphoric meteors that glimmer by night in places of interment. Some stalked slowly on, absorbed in profound reverie; some, shrieking with agony, ran furiously about like tigers wounded with poisoned arrows; whilst others, grinding their teeth in rage, foamed along more frantic than the wildest maniac. They all avoided each other; and though surrounded by a multitude that no one could number, each wandered at random, unheedful of the rest, as if alone on a desert where no foot had trodden. Vathek and Nouronihar, frozen with terror at a sight so baleful, demanded of the Giaour what these appearances might mean, and why these ambulating spectres never withdrew their hands from their hearts. 'Perplex not yourselves with so much at once,' replied he bluntly; 'you will soon be acquainted with all; let us haste and present you to Eblis.' They continued their way through the multitude, but notwithstanding their confidence at first, they were not sufficiently composed to examine with attention the various perspective of halls and of galleries that opened on the right hand and left, which were all illuminated by torches and brasiers, whose flames rose in pyramids to the centre of the vault. At length they came to a place where long curtains, brocaded with crimson and gold, fell from all parts in solemn confusion. Here the choirs and dances were heard no longer. The light which glimmered came from afar. After some time, Vathek and Nouronihar perceived a gleam brightening through the drapery, and entered a vast tabernacle hung round with the skins of leopards. An infinity of elders, with streaming beards, and afrits in complete armour, had prostrated themselves before the ascent of a lofty eminence, on the top of which, upon a globe of fire, sat the formidable Eblis. His person was that of a young man, whose noble and regular features seemed to have been tarnished by malignant vapours. In his large eyes appeared both pride and despair; his flowing hair retained some resemblance to that of an angel of light. In his hand, which thunder had blasted, he swayed the iron sceptre that causes the monster Ouranbad, the afrits, and all the powers of the abyss, to tremble. At his presence, the heart of the caliph sunk within him, and he fell prostrate on his face. Nouronihar, however, though greatly dismayed, could not help admiring the person of Eblis, for she expected to have seen some stupendous giant. Eblis, with a voice more mild than might be imagined, but such as penetrated the soul and filled it with the deepest melancholy, said: 'Creatures of clay, I receive you into mine empire; ye are numbered amongst my adorers; enjoy whatever this palace affords; the treasures of the pre-adamite sultans; their fulminating sabres; and those talismans that compel the dives to open the subterranean expanses of the mountain of Kaf, which communicate with these. There, insatiable as your curiosity may be, shall you find sufficient objects to gratify it. You shall possess the exclusive privilege of entering the fortresses of Aherman, and the halls of Argenk, where are portrayed all creatures endowed with intelligence, and the various animals that inhabited the earth prior to the creation of that contemptible being whom ye denominate the father of mankind.' Vathek and Nouronihar, feeling themselves revived and encouraged by this harangue, eagerly said to the Giaour: Bring us instantly to the place which contains these precious talismans.' Come,' answered this wicked dive, with his malignant grin, 'come and possess all that my sovereign hath promised, and more.' He then conducted them into a long aisle adjoining the tabernacle, preceding them with hasty steps, and followed by his disciples with the utmost alacrity. They reached at length a hall of great extent, and covered with a lofty dome, around which appeared fifty portals of bronze, secured with as many fastenings of iron. A funereal gloom prevailed over the whole scene. Here, upon two beds of incorruptible cedar, lay recumbent the fleshless forms of the pre-adamite kings, who had been monarchs of the whole earth. They still possessed enough of life to be conscious of their deplorable condition. Their eyes retained a melancholy motion; they regarded one another with looks of the deepest dejection, each holding his right hand motionless on his heart. At their feet were inscribed the events of their several reigns, their power, their pride, and their crimes; Soliman Daki, and Soliman, called Gian Ben Gian, who, after having chained up the dives in the dark caverns of Kaf, became so presumptuous as to doubt of the Supreme Power. All these maintained great state, though not to be compared with the eminence of Soliman Ben Daoud. This king, so renowned for his wisdom, was on the loftiest elevation, and placed immediately under the dome. He appeared to possess more animation than the rest. Though, from time to time, he laboured with profound sighs, and, like his companions, kept his right hand on his heart, yet his countenance was more composed, and he seemed to be listening to the sullen roar of a cataract, visible in part through one of the grated portals. This was the only sound that intruded on the silence of these doleful mansions. A range of brazen vases surrounded the elevation. Remove the covers from these cabalistic depositories,' said the Giaour to Vathek, 'and avail thyself of the talismans which will break asunder all these gates of bronze, and not only render thee master of the treasures contained within them, but also of the spirits by which they are guarded.' The caliph, whom this ominous preliminary had entirely disconcerted, approached the vases with faltering footsteps, and was ready to sink with terror when he heard the groans of Soliman. As he proceeded, a voice from the livid lips of the prophet articulated these words: In my lifetime, I filled a magnificent throne, having on my right hand twelve thousand seats of gold, where the patriarchs and the prophets heard my doctrines; on my left, the sages and doctors, upon as many thrones of silver, were present at all my decisions. Whilst I thus administered justice to innumerable multitudes, the birds of the air, hovering over me, served as a canopy against the rays of the sun. My people flourished, and my palace rose to the clouds. I erected a temple to the Most High, which was the wonder of the universe; but I basely suffered myself to be seduced by the love of women, and a curiosity that could not be restrained by sublunary things. I listened to the counsels of Aherman, and the daughter of Pharaoh ; and adored fire, and the hosts of heaven. I forsook the holy city, and commanded the genii to rear the stupendous palace of Istakar, and the terrace of the watch-towers, each of which was consecrated to a star. There for a while I enjoyed myself in the zenith of glory and pleasure. Not only men, but supernatural beings, were subject also to my will. I began to think, as these unhappy monarchs around had already thought, that the vengeance of Heaven was asleep, when at once the thunder burst my structures asunder, and precipitated me hither, where, however, I do not remain, like the other inhabitants, totally destitute of hope; for an angel of light hath revealed that, in consideration of the piety of my early youth, my woes shall come to an end when this cataract shall for ever cease to flow. Till then, I am in torments-ineffable torments! an unrelenting fire preys on my heart.' Having uttered this exclamation, Soliman raised his hands towards Heaven in token of supplication; and the caliph discerned through his bosom, which was transparent as crystal, his heart enveloped in flames. At a sight so full of horror, Nouronihar fell back, like one petrified, into the arms of Vathek, who cried out with a convulsive sob: 'O Giaour! whither hast thou brought us Allow us to depart, and I will relinquish all thou hast promised. O Mohammed! remains there no more mercy!' 'None, none!' replied the malicious dive. 'Know, miserable prince! thou art now in the abode of vengeance and despair. Thy heart, also, will be kindled like those of the other votaries of Eblis. A few days are allotted thee previous to this fatal period; employ them as thou wilt; recline on these heaps of gold; command the infernal potentates; range at thy pleasure through these immense subterranean domains, no barrier shall be shut against thee. As for me, I have fulfilled my mission; I now leave thee to thyself.' At these words he vanished. The caliph and Nouronihar remained in the most abject affliction. Their tears were unable to flow, and scarcely could they support themselves. At length, taking each other despondingly by the hand, they went falteringly from this fatal hall, indifferent which way they turned their steps. Every portal opened at their approach. The dives fell prostrate before them. Every reservoir of riches was disclosed to their view, but they no longer felt the incentives of curiosity, of pride, or avarice. With like apathy they heard the chorus of genii, and saw the stately banquets prepared to regale them. They went wandering on, from chamber to chamber, hall to hall, and gallery to gallery, all without bounds or limit; all distinguishable by the same lowering gloom, all adorned with the same awful grandeur, all traversed by persons in search of repose and consolation, but who sought them in vain; for every one carried within him a heart tormented in flames. Shunned by these various sufferers, who seemed by their looks to be upbraiding the partners of their guilt, they withdrew from them to wait, in direful suspense, the moment which should render them to each other the like objects of terror. "What!' exclaimed Nouronihar, 'will the time come when I shall snatch my hand from thine!' 'Ah!' said Vathek, 'and shall my eyes ever cease to drink from thine long draughts of enjoyment! Shall the moments of our reciprocal ecstasies be reflected on with horror! It was not thou that broughtst me hither; the principles by which Carathis perverted my youth have been the sole cause of my perdition! It is but right she should have her share of it.' Having given vent to these painful expressions, he called to an afrit, who was stirring up one of the brasiers, and bade him fetch the Princess Carathis from the palace of Samarah. After issuing these orders, the caliph and Nouronihar continued walking amidst the silent crowd, till they heard voices at the end of the gallery. Presuming them to proceed from some unhappy beings who, like themselves, were awaiting their final doom, they followed the sound, and found it to come from a small square chamber, where they discovered, sitting on sofas, four young men of goodly figure, and a lovely female, who were holding a melancholy conversation by the glimmering of a lonely lamp. Each had a gloomy and forlorn air, and two of them were embracing each other with great tenderness. On seeing the caliph and the daughter of Fakreddin enter, they arose, saluted, and made room for them. Then he who appeared the most considerable of the group addressed himself thus to Vathek: 'Strangers, who doubtless are in the same state of suspense with ourselves, as you do not yet bear your hand on your heart, if you are come hither to pass the interval allotted, previous to the infliction of our common punishment, condescend to relate the adventures that have brought you to this fatal place, and we, in return, will acquaint you with ours, which deserve but too well to be heard. To trace back our crimes to their source, though we are not permitted to repent, is the only employment suited to wretches like us.' The caliph and Nouronihar assented to the proposal, and Vathek began, not without tears and lamentations, a sincere recital of every circumstance that had passed. When the afflicting narrative was closed, the young man entered on his own. Each person proceeded in order, and when the third prince had reached the midst of his adventures, a sudden noise interrupted him, which caused the vault to tremble and to open. Immediately a cloud descended, which, gradually dissipating, discovered Carathis on the back of an afrit, who grievously complained of his burden. She, instantly springing to the ground, advanced towards her son, and said: 'What dost thou here in this little square chamber? As the dives are become subject to thy beck, I expected to have found thee on the throne of the preadamite kings.' 'Execrable woman!' answered the caliph, 'cursed be the day thou gavest me birth! Go, follow this afrit; let him conduct thee to the hall of the prophet Soliman: there thou wilt learn to what these palaces are destined, and how much I ought to abhor the impious knowledge thou hast taught me.' * * Carathis, however, eagerly entered the dome of Soliman, and without regarding in the least the groans of the prophet, undauntedly removed the covers of the vases, and violently seized on the talismans. Then, with a voice more loud than had hitherto been heard within these mansions, she compelled the dives to disclose to her the most secret treasures, the most profound stores, which the afrit himself had not seen. She passed, by rapid descents, known only to Eblis and his most favoured potentates; and thus penetrated the very entrails of the earth, where breathes the sansar, or the icy wind of death. Nothing appalled her dauntless soul. She perceived, however, in all the inmates who bore their hands on their heart, a little singularity, not much to her taste. As she was emerging from one of the abysses, Eblis stood forth to her view; but notwithstanding he displayed the full effulgence of his infernal majesty, she preserved her countenance unaltered, and even paid her compliments with considerable firmness. This superb monarch thus answered: 'Princess, whose knowledge and whose crimes have merited a conspicuous rank in my empire, thou dost well to avail thyself of the leisure that remains; for the flames and torments which are ready to seize on thy heart will not fail to provide thee soon with full employment.' He said, and was lost in the curtains of his tabernacle. Carathis paused for a moment with surprise; but resolved to follow the advice of Eblis, she assembled all the choirs of genii, and all the dives to pay her homage. Thus marched she in triumph, through a vapour of perfumes, amidst the acclamations of all the malignant spirits, with most of whom she had formed a previous acquaintance. She even attempted to dethrone one of the Solimans, for the purpose of usurping his place; when a voice,, proceeding from the abyss of death, proclaimed: All is accomplished!' Instantaneously the haughty forehead of the intrepid princess became corrugated with agony: she uttered a tremendous yell; and fixed, no more to be withdrawn, her right hand upon her heart, which was become a receptacle of eternal fire. * * Such was, and such should be, the punishment of unrestrained passions and atrocious deeds! Such shall be the chastisement of that blind curiosity which would transgress those bounds the wisdom of the Creator has prescribed to human knowledge; and such the dreadful disappointment of that restless ambition which, aiming at discoveries reserved for beings of a supernatural order, perceives not, through its infatuated pride, that the condition of man upon earth is to be-humble and ignorant. Thus the Caliph Vathek, who, for the sake of empty pomp and forbidden power, had sullied himself with a thousand crimes, became a prey to grief without end, and remorse without mitigation; whilst the humble, the despised Gulchenrouz, passed whole ages in undis turbed tranquillity, and in the pure happiness of erudition, taste, and accomplishments, he wanted, childhood. There is astonishing force and grandeur in some of these conceptions. The catastrophe possesses a sort of epic sublimity, and the spectacle of the vast multitude incessantly pacing those halls, from which all hope has fled, is worthy the genius of Milton. The numberless graces of description, the piquant allusions, the humour and satire, and the wild yet witty spirit of mockery and derision-like the genius of Voltaire-which is spread over the work, we must leave to the reader. The romance altogether places Beckford among the first of our imaginative writers, independently of the surprise which it is calculated to excite as the work of a youth of twenty-two, who had never been in the countries he describes with so much animation and accuracy. RICHARD CUMBERLAND. in all but two or three of his plays, the vivifying power of genius. His Memoirs of his Own Lifefor which he obtained £500-are graphic and entertaining, but too many of his anecdotes of his contemporaries will not bear a rigid scrutiny. Mr Cumberland died on the 7th of May 1811. His first novel Arundel (1789), was hurriedly composed; but the scene being partly in college and at court, and treating of scenes and characters in high life, the author drew upon his recollections, and painted vigorously what he had felt and witnessed. His second work, Henry (1795), which he polished with great care, to imitate the elaborate style of Fielding, was less happy; for in low life Cumberland was not so much at home, and his portraits are grossly overcharged. The character of Ezekiel Dow, a Methodist preacher, is praised by Sir Walter Scott as not only an exquisite but a just portrait. The resemblance to Fielding's Parson Adams is, however, too marked, while the Methodistic traits introduced are, however faithful, less pleasing than the Another peculiarity of the author is thus touched learned simplicity and bonhomie of the worthy parson. upon by Scott: 'He had a peculiar taste in love affairs, which induced him to reverse the natural and usual practice of courtship, and to throw upon the softer sex the task of wooing, which is more gracefully, as well as naturally, the province of the man.' In these wooing scenes, too, there is a great want of delicacy and propriety: Cumberland was not here a 'mender of hearts.' The third novel of our author was the work of his advanced years, and is of a very inferior description. It would be unjust not to add, that the prose style of Cumberland in his memoirs and ordinary narratives, where humour is not attempted, is easy and flowing-the style of a scholar and gentleman. RICHARD CUMBERLAND, the dramatist, was author of three novels, Arundel, Henry, and John de Lancaster. The learning, knowledge of society-including foreign manners-and the dramatic talents of this author, would seem to have qualified him in an eminent degree for novel-writing; but this is by no means the case. His fame must rest on his comedies of The West Indian, The Wheel of Fortune, and The Jew. Mr Cumberland was son of Mr Denison Cumberland, bishop of Clonfort, and afterwards of Kilmore. His mother was Joanna, daughter of the celebrated Dr Bentley, and said to be the Phoebe of Byrom's fine pastoral, My time, O ye Muses, was happily spent. (See vol. i. of this work, p. 731.) Cumberland was born in 1732. He was designed for the church; but in return for some services rendered by his father, the young student was appointed private secretary to the Marquis of Halifax, whom he accompanied to Ireland. Through the influence of his patron, he was made crown-agent for the province of Nova Scotia; and he was afterwards appointed, by Lord George Germain, secretary to the Board of Trade. The dramatic performances of Cumberland written about this time were highly successful, and introduced him to all the literary and distinguished society of his day. The character of him by Gold-resigned,' as Boswell has said, and Johnson doubted smith in his Retaliation, where he is praised as The Terence of England, the mender of hearts, is one of the finest compliments ever paid by one author to another. In the year 1780, Cumberland was employed on a secret mission to Spain, in order to endeavour to detach that country from the hostile confederacy against England. He seems to have been misled by the Abbé Hussey, chaplain to the king of Spain; and after residing a twelvemonth at Madrid, he was recalled, and payment of his drafts refused. A sum of £5000 was due him; but as Cumberland had failed in the negotiation, and had exceeded his commission through excess of zeal, the minister harshly refused to remunerate him. Thus situated, the unfortunate dramatist was compelled to sell his paternal estate, and retire into private life. He took up his abode at Tunbridge, and there poured forth a variety of dramas, essays, and other works, among which were two epic poems, Calvary, and The Exodiad, the latter written in conjunction with Sir James Bland Burgess. None of these efforts can be said to have overstepped the line of mediocrity; for though Cumberland had MRS FRANCES SHERIDAN. MRS FRANCES SHERIDAN (1724-1766) was the authoress of two novels, Sidney Biddulph and Nourjahad, and two comedies, The Discovery and The Dupe. The latter are common-place productions, but the novels evince fine imaginative powers and correct moral taste. Sidney Biddulph is a pathetic story: the heroine goes to her grave 'unrelieved but whether the accomplished authoress had a right to make her readers suffer so much. Nourjahad is an eastern romance, also with a moral tendency, but containing some animated incidents and description. Mrs Sheridan was the wife of Thomas Sheridan, popular as an actor and elocutionist, and author of an Orthoepical Dictionary of the English Language. Dr Parr, with characteristic enthusiasm, pronounced Mrs Sheridan to be quite celestial,' and Charles James Fox considered Sidney Biddulph to be the best of all modern novels. Yet, perhaps, this amiable and gifted woman is now best known from being the mother of Richard Brinsley Sheridan. THOMAS HOLCROFT. THOMAS HOLCROFT, whose singular history and dramatic performances we have already noticed, was author of several once popular novels. The first was published in 1780, under the title of Alwyn, or the Gentleman Comedian. This had, and deserved to have, but little success. His second, Anna St Ives, in seven volumes (1792), was well received, and attracted attention from its political bearings no less than the force of its style and characters. The principal characters are, as Hazlitt remarks, merely the vehicles of certain general sentiments, or machines, put into action, as an experiment to shew how these general principles would operate in particular situations. The same intention is manifested in his third novel, Hugh Trevor, the first part of which appeared in 1794, and the remainder in 1797. In Hugh Trevor, Holcroft, like Godwin, depicted the vices and distresses which he conceived to be generated by the existing institutions of society. There are some good sketches, and many eloquent and just observations in the work, and those who have read it in youth will remember the vivid impression that some parts are calculated to convey. The political doctrines inculcated by the author are captivating to young minds, and were enforced by Holcroft in the form of well-contrasted characters, lively dialogue, and pointed satire. He was himself a true believer in the practicability of such a Utopian or ideal state of society. The song of Gaffer Gray in Hugh Trevor, which glances ironically at the inhumanity of the rich, has a forcible simplicity and truth in particular cases which made it a favourite with the public. Gaffer Gray. Ho! why dost thou shiver and shake, Gaffer Gray? And why does thy nose look so blue? 'Tis the weather that's cold, 'Tis I'm grown very old, And my doublet is not very new, Well-a-day!' Then line thy worn doublet with ale, And warm thy old heart with a glass. Hie away to the house on the brow, And knock at the jolly priest's door. Holcroft wrote another novel, Brian Perdue, but it is greatly inferior to his former productions. His whole works, indeed, were eclipsed by those of Godwin, and have now fallen out of notice. ROBERT BAGE. Another novelist of a similar stamp was ROBERT BAGE, a Quaker, who, like Holcroft, imbibed the principles of the French Revolution, and infused them into various works of fiction. Bage was born at Darley, in Derbyshire, on the 29th of February 1728. His father was a paper-maker, and his son continued in the same occupation through life. His manufactory was at Elford, near Tamworth, where he realised a decent competence. During the last eight years of his life, Bage resided at Tamworth, where he died on the 1st of September 1801. The works of this author are, Mount Kenneth, 1781; Barham Downs, 1784; The Fair Syrian, 1787; James Wallace, 1788; Man as He Is, 1792; Hermsprong, or Man as He is Not, 1796. Bage's novels are decidedly inferior to those of Holcroft, and it is surprising that Sir Walter Scott should have admitted them into his novelists' library, and at the same time excluded so many superior works. Barham Downs and Hermsprong are the most interesting of the series, and contain some good satirical portraits, though the plots of both are crude and defective. SOPHIA AND HARRIET LEE. These ladies, authoresses of The Canterbury Tales, a series of striking and romantic fictions, were the daughters of Mr Lee, a gentleman who had been articled to a solicitor, but who adopted the stage as a profession. Sophia was born in London in 1750. She was the eldest of the sisters, and the early death of her mother devolved upon her the cares of the household. She secretly cultivated, however, a strong attachment to literature. Her first appearance as an author was not made till her thirtieth year, when she produced her comedy, The Chapter of Accidents, which was brought out at the Haymarket Theatre by the elder Colman, and received with great applause. The profits of this piece were devoted by Miss Lee towards establishing a seminary for young ladies at Bath, which was rendered the more necessary by the death of her father in 1781. Thither, accordingly, the sisters repaired, and their talents and prudence were rewarded by rapid and permanent success. In 1784, she published the first volume of The Recess, or a Tale of Other Times; which was soon followed by the remainder of the tale, the work having instantly become popular. The time selected by Miss Lee as the subject of her story was that of Queen Elizabeth, and her production may be considered one of the earliest of our historical romances. It is tinged with a melancholy and contemplative spirit; and the same feeling is displayed in her next production, a tragedy entitled Almeyda, Queen of Grenada, produced in 1796. In the succeeding year, Harriet Lee published the first volume of The Canterbury Tales, which ultimately extended to five volumes. Two only of the stories were the production of Sophia Lee, namely, The Young Lady's Tale, or the Two Emilys, and The Clergyman's Tale. They are characterised by great tenderness and feeling; but the more striking features of The Canterbury Tales, and the great merit of the collection, belong to Harriet Lee. Kruitzner, or the German's Tale, fell into the hands of Byron when he was about fourteen. 155 |