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pasture, in which my horse might feed; but as it would it is not thy arrows or thy bow, no, nor thy sword and have been dangerous to let him go at large all night, I spear, that could have stood thee much in stead. I employed myself for a while in cutting the longest and am too old a soldier, and too well defended against thickest of the grass which grew on the banks of the such weapons, to fear them from so young an arm. But stream for his night's repast, permitting him to pasture I am neither enemy nor traitor to attack thee unawares. at will until dark; and securing him then close to the I have travelled far during the past night, and mean to spot I meant to occupy, after a moderate meal, I refresh myself awhile in this spot before I proceed on commended myself to Allah, and lay down to rest. my journey ; thou meanest not,' added he with a smile,
The loud neighing of my horse awoke me with a 'to deny me the boon which Allah extends to all his start, as the first light of dawn broke in the east. creatures ? What! still suspicious ? Come, then, I Quickly springing on my feet, and grasping my spear will increase thy advantage, and try to win thy conand scimitar, which lay under my head, I looked around fidence. With that he unbuckled his sword, and threw for the cause of alarm. Nor did it long remain doubt- it, with his matchlock, upon the turf a little way from ful; for, at the distance of scarce two hundred yards, I him. 'See me now unarmed; wilt thou yet trust me?' saw a single horseman advancing. To tighten my girdle Who could have doubted longer? I threw down my round my loins, to string my bow, and prepare two or bow and arrows: "Pardon, cried I, 'my tardy conthree arrows for use, was but the work of a few fidence; but he that has escaped with difficulty from moments; before these preparations, however, were many perils, fears even their shadow: here,' continued completed, the stranger was close at hand. Fitting an I, 'are bread and salt, eat thou of them; thou art then arrow to my bow, I placed myself upon guard, and my guest, and that sacred tie secures the faith of both.' examined him narrowly as he approached. He was a The stranger, with another smile, took the offered food. man of goodly stature and powerful frame; his countenance hard, strongly marked, and furnished with a thick The following passage, describing the Kuzzilbash's black beard, bore testimony of exposure to many a return to his native village, affects us both by the blast, but it still preserved a prepossessing expression of view which it gives of the desolation caused in good-humour and benevolence. His turban, which was half-barbarous countries by war and rapine, and the formed of a cashmere shawl
, sorely tashed and torn, beautiful strain of sentiment which the author puts and twisted here and there with small steel chains into the mouth of his hero: according to the fashion of the time, was wound around a red cloth cap that rose in four peaks high above the
[Desolation of War.] head. His oemah, or riding coat, of crimson cloth, much stained and faded, opening at the bosom, shewed We continued for some time longer, riding over a the links of a coat-of-mail which he wore below; a track once fertile and well cultivated, but now returned yellow shawl formed his girdle; his huge shulwars, or to its original desolation. The wild pomegranate, the riding trousers, of thick fawn-coloured Kerman woollen thorn, and the thistle, grew high in the fields, and stuff, fell in folds over the large red leather boots in overran the walls that formerly enclosed them. At which his legs were cased; by his side hung a crooked length we reached an open space, occupied by the ruins scimitar in a black leather scabbard, and from the of a large walled village, among which a square build. holsters of his saddle peeped out the but-ends of a ing, with walls of greater height, and towers at each pair of pistols-weapons of which I then knew not the corner, rose particularly conspicuous. use, any more than of the matchlock which was slung As we approached this place I felt my heart stirred at his back. He was mounted on a powerful but jaded within me, and my whole frame agitated with a secret horse, and appeared to have already travelled far. and indescribable emotion; visions of past events
When this striking figure had approached within seemed hovering dimly in my memory, but my sensathirty yards, I called out in the Turkish language, tions were too indistinct and too confused to be intelcommonly used in the country : “Whoever thou art, ligible to myself. At last a vague idea shot through come no nearer on thy peril, or I shall salute thee with my brain, and thrilled like a fiery arrow in my heart; this arrow from my bow!' "Why, boy,' returned the with burning cheeks and eager eyes I looked towards stranger in a deep manly voice, and speaking in the my companion, and saw his own bent keenly upon me. same tongue, 'thou art a bold lad, truly! but set thy Knowest thou this spot, young man?' said he, after heart at rest, I mean thee no harm. Nay,' rejoined a pause : ‘if thy memory does not serve thee, cannot 1, 'I am on foot, and alone. I know thee not, nor thy thy heart tell thee what walls are these?' I gasped for intentions. Either retire at once, or shew thy sincerity breath, but could not speak. “Yes, Ismael,' continued by setting thyself on equal terms with me: dismount he, these are the ruined walls of thy father's house; from thy steed, and then I fear thee not, whatever be there passed the first days of thy childhood ; within thy designs. Beware!' And so saying, I drew my arrow that broken tower thy eyes first saw the light! But to the head, and pointed it towards him. "By the head courts are now
trewed with the unburied dust of of my father!' cried the stranger, 'thou art an absolute thy kindred, and the foxes and wolves of the desert youth! but I like thee well; thy heart is stout, and rear their young among its roofless chambers. These thy demand is just; the sheep trusts not the wolf when are the acts of that tribe to which thou hast so long it meets him in the plain, nor do we acknowledge every been in bondage—such is the debt of blood which cries stranger in the desert for a friend. See, continued he, out for thy vengeance !! dismounting actively, yet with a weight that made the I checked my horse to gaze on the scene of my infant turf ring again—see, I yield my advantage; as for years, and my companion seemed willing to indulge me. thy arrows, boy, I fear them not. With that, he slung Is it indeed trae, as some sages have taught, that man's a small shield, which he bore at his back, before him, good angel hovers over the place of his birth, and as if to cover his face, in case of treachery on my part, dwells with peculiar fondness on the innocent days of and leaving his horse where it stood, he advanced to me. his childhood ? and that in after-years of sorrow and of
Taught from my youth to suspect and to guard crime she pours the recollection of those pure and against treachery, I still kept a wary eye on the motions peaceful days like balm over the heart, to soften and of the stranger. But there was something in his open improve it by their influence ? How could it be, without though rugged countenance and manly bearing that some agency like this, that, gazing thus unexpectedly on claimed and won my confidence. Slowly I lowered my the desolate home of my fathers, the violent passions, hand, and relaxed the still drawn string of my bow, as the bustle, and the misery of later years, vanished from he strode up to me with a firm composed step.
my mind like a dream; and the scenes and feelings 'Youth,' said he, had my intentions been hostile, 1 of my childhood came fresh as yesterday to my
remembrance? I heard the joyous clamour of my little as a mere farce in a narrative shape. The remarkbrothers and sisters; our games, our quarrels, and our able conversational talents of Theodore Hook, and reconciliations, were once more present to me; the grave his popularity as a writer for the stage, led him smile of my father, the kind but eternal gabble of my much into society. Flushed with success, full of good old nurse; and, above all, the mild sweet voice of the gaiety and impetuosity of youth, and conscious my beloved mother, as she adjusted our little disputes, of his power to please and even fascinate in company, or soothed our childish sorrows—all rushed upon my he surrendered himself up to the enjoyment of the mind, and for a while quite overpowered me: I covered passing hour, and became noted for his 'boisterous my face with my hands and wept in silence.
buffooneries,' his wild sallies of wit and drollery, Besides his Eastern tales, Mr Fraser wrote a and his practical hoaxes. story of his native country, The Highland Smugglers, Amongst his various talents was one which, in which he displays the same talent for descrip- though familiar in some other countries, whose tion, with much inferior powers in constructing a language affords it facilities, has hitherto been rare, probable or interesting narrative. He died at his if not unknown in ours, namely the power of seat at Moniack, Inverness-shire, in 1856, aged improvisatising, or extemporaneous composition of seventy-three.
songs and music. Hook would at table turn the whole conversation of the evening into a song, sparkling with puns or witty allusions, and perfect
in its rhymes. He accompanied himself,' says THEODORE EDWARD Hook, a late fashionable and Lockhart, in the Quarterly Review, 'on the pianoforte, copious novelist, was born in London, September 22, and the music was frequently, though not always, 1788. He was the son of a distinguished musical as new as the verse. He usually stuck to the com
mon ballad measures; but one favourite sport was a mimic opera, and then he seemed to triumph without effort over every variety of metre and complication of stanza. About the complete extemporaneousness of the whole there could rarely be the slightest doubt.' This power of extempore verse seems to have been the wonder of all Hook's associates; it astonished Sheridan, Coleridge, and the most illustrious of his contemporaries, who used to hang delighted over such rare and unequivocal manifestations of genius. Hook had been introduced to the prince-regent, afterwards George IV., and in 1812 he received the appointment of accomptant-general and treasurer to the colony of the Mauritius, with a salary of about £2000 per
This handsome provision he enjoyed for five years. The duties of the office were, however, neglected, and an examination being made into the books of the accomptant, various irregularities, omissions, and discrepancies were detected. There was a deficiency of a large amount, and Hook was ordered home under the charge of a detachment of military. Thus a dark cloud hung over him for the remainder of his life; but it is believed that he was in reality innocent of all but gross negligence. On reaching London in 1819, he was subjected to a scrutiny by the Audit Board, which did not terminate until after the lapse of nearly five years. He was then pronounced to be liable to the crown for the deficit of £12,000. In the meantime he laboured assiduously at literature as a profession. He became, in 1820, editor of the John Bull news
paper, which he made conspicuous for its advocacy composer; and at the early age of sixteen-after an of high aristocratic principles, some virulent personimperfect course of education at Harrow School-he alities, and much wit and humour. His political became a sort of partner in his father's business of songs were generally admired for their point and music and song. In 1805 he composed a comic opera, brilliancy of fancy. In 1823, after the award had The Soldier's Return, the overture and music, as well been given finding him a debtor to the crown in the as the dialogues and songs, entirely by himself. The sum mentioned, Hook was arrested, and continued opera was highly successful, and young Theodore nearly two years in confinement : His literary was ready next year with another after-piece, Catch labours went on, however, without interruption, and Him Who Can, which exhibited the talents of Liston in 1824, appeared the first series of his tales, and Mathews in a popular and effective light, and entitled Sayings and Doings, which were so well had a great run of success. Several musical operas received that the author was made £2000 richer by were then produced in rapid succession by Hook, the production. In 1825, he issued a second series, as The Invisible Girl, Music Mad, Darkness Visible, and shortly after that publication he was released Trial by Jury, The Fortress, Tékeli, Exchange no from custody, with an intimation, however, that the Robbery, and Killing no Murder. Some of these crown abandoned nothing of its claim for the still keep possession of the stage, and evince wonder- Mauritius debt. The popular novelist now pursued ful knowledge of dramatic art, musical skill, and his literary career with unabated diligence and literary powers in so young an author. They were spirit. In 1828, he published a third series of followed (1808) by a novel which has been described | Sayings and Doings ; in 1830, Maxwell; in 1832,
The Life of Sir David Baird; in 1833, The Parson's a poetical romance, entitled Philibert, which was Daughter, and Love and Pride. In 1836, he became smoothly versified, but possessed no great merit. In editor of the New Monthly Magazine, and contributed 1823 appeared his Highways and Byways, tales of to its pages, in chapters, Gilbert Gurney, and the continental wandering and adventure, written in a far inferior sequel, Gurney Married, each afterwards light, picturesque, and pleasing manner. These collected into a set of three volumes. In 1837, were so well received that the author wrote a second appeared Jack Brag; in 1839, Births, Deaths, and series, published in 1824, and a third in 1827. In Marriages ; Precepts and Practice ; and Fathers and 1830 he came forth with a novel in four volumes, Sons. His last avowed work, Peregrine Bunce, sup- The Heiress of Bruges, a Tale of the Year Sirteen posed not to have been wholly written by him, Hundred. The plot of this work is connected with appeared some months after his death. The pro- the attempts made by the Flemish to emancipate duction of thirty-eight volumes within sixteen themselves from the foreign sway of Spain, in which years—the author being all the while editor, and they were assisted by the Dutch, under Prince almost sole writer, of a newspaper, and for several Maurice. Mr Grattan is author also of Tales of years the efficient conductor of a magazine - Travel, and histories of the Netherlands and of certainly affords, as Mr Lockhart remarks, suffi- Switzerland. As a writer of fiction, a power of vivid cient proof that he never sank into idleness. At description and observation of nature appears to be the same time Theodore Hook was the idol of Mr Grattan's principal merit. His style is often the fashionable circles, and ran a heedless round diffuse and careless; and he does not seem to have of dissipation. Though in the receipt of a large laboured successfully in constructing his stories. income-probably not less than £3000 per annum, His pictures of ordinary life in the French provinces, by his writings, he became involved in pecuniary as he wandered among the highways and by ways embarrassments; and an unhappy connection which of that country with a cheerful observant spirit, he had formed, yet dared not avow, entailed upon noting the peculiarities of the people, are his him the anxieties and responsibilities of a family. happiest and most original efforts. Parts of a diary which he kept have been published, MR T. H. LISTER, a gentleman of rank and arisand there are passages in it disclosing his struggles, tocratic connections, was author of three povels, his alternations of hope and despair, and his ever- descriptive of the manners of the higher classes ; deepening distresses and difficulties, which are namely, Granby, 1826; Herbert Lacy, 1827; and inexpressibly touching as well as instructive. At Arlington, 1832. These works are pleasingly written, length, overwhelmed with difficulties, his children and may be considered as affording correct pictures unprovided for, and himself a victim to disease and of domestic society, but they possess no features of exhaustion before he had completed his fifty-third novelty or originality to preserve them for another year, he died at Fulham on the 24th of August 1842. generation. A strain of graceful reflection, in the
The works of Theodore Hook are very unequal, style of the essays in the Mirror and Lounger, is and none of them perhaps display the rich and varied mingled with the tale, and shews the author to have powers of his conversation. He was thoroughly been a man of refined and cultivated taste and acquainted with English life in the higher and feeling. In 1838 Mr Lister published a Memoir of iniddle ranks, and his early familiarity with the the Life and Administration of the Earl of Clarendon, stage had taught him the effect of dramatic situations in three volumes, a work of considerable talent and and pointed dialogue. The theatre, however, is not research, in preparing which the author had access always a good school for taste in composition, and to documents and papers unknown to his predecesHook's witty and tragic scenes and contrasts of sors. Mr Lister died in June 1842, at which time character are often too violent in tone, and too little he held the government appointment of Registrardiscriminated. Hence, though his knowledge of high- general of births, marriages, and deaths. The life was undoubted, and his powers of observation following brief description in Granby may be comrarely surpassed, his pictures of existing manners pared with Mr Wordsworth's noble sonnet composed seem to wear an air of caricature, imparted insen- upon Westminster Bridge: sibly by the peculiar habits and exuberant fancy of the novelist. His pathos is often overdone, and his mirth and joyousness carried into the regions of
(London at Sunrise.] farce. He is very felicitous in exposing all ridicu
Granby followed them with his eyes; and now, too lous pretences and absurd affectation, and in such full of happiness to be accessible to any feelings of scenes his polished ridicule and the practical saga- jealousy or repining, after a short reverie of the purest city of the man of the world, conversant with its satisfaction, he left the ball, and sallied out into the different ranks and artificial distinctions, are strik- fresh cool air of a summer morning-suddenly passing ingly apparent. We may collect from his novels from the red glare of lamplight to the clear sober bright-especially the Sayings and Doings, which were refreshed and exhilarated by the air of morning, and
ness of returning day. He walked cheerfully onward, carefully written—as correct a notion of English interested with the scene around him. It was broad society in certain spheres in the nineteenth century, daylight, and he viewed the town under an aspect in as Fielding's works display of the manners of the which it is alike presented to the late-retiring votary eighteenth. To regularity of fable he made little of pleasure, and to the early-rising sons of business. pretension, and we suspect he paid little attention He stopped on the pavement of Oxford Street to conto style. He aimed at delineation of character-at template the effect. striking scenes and situations-at reflecting the vista, unclouded by the mid-day smoke, was distinctly
The whole extent of that long language and habits of actual life-and all this he visible to his eye at once. The houses shrunk to half successfully accomplished as respects that conven- their span, while the few visible spires of the adjacent tional world of which he was a worshipper.
churches seemed to rise less distant than before, gaily
tipped with early sunshine, and much diminished in THOMAS COLLEY GRATTAN-MR T. H. LISTER, apparent size, but heightened in distinctness and in
beauty. Had it not been for the cool gray tint which MARQUIS OF NORMAN BY.
slightly mingled with every object, the brightness wag THOMAS COLLEY GRATTAN-born in Dublin in almost that of noon. But the life, the bustle, the 1796-commenced his literary career in 1819 with ) busy din, the flowing tide of human existence, were all
MORLEY-LADY CHARLOTTE BURY.
R. PLUNER WARD.
wanting to complete the similitude. All was hushed parties to add, that Lady Caroline constantly spoke and silent; and this mighty receptacle of human beings, of her husband in the highest and most affectionate which a few short hours would wake into active energy terms of admiration and respect.'* A romantic and motion, seemed like a city of the dead.
susceptibility of temperament and character seems There was little to break this solemn illusion. to have been the bane of this unfortunate lady. Her Around were the monuments of human exertion, but fate illustrates the wisdom of Thomson's advice: the hands which formed them were no longer there.
Then keep each passion down, however dear, Few, if any, were the symptoms of life. No sounds
Trust me, the tender are the most severe. were heard but the heavy creaking of a solitary wagon, the twittering of an occasional sparrow, the
The Recollections of a Chaperon, 1833, by LADY monotonous tone of the drowsy watchman, and the Dacre, are a series of tales written with taste, distant rattle of the retiring carriage, fading on the feeling, and passion. This lady is, we believe, alsó ear till it melted into silence: and the eye that authoress of Trevelyan, 1833, a novel which was searched for living objects fell on nothing but the grim considered at the time of its publication as the best greatcoated guardian of the night, muffled up into an feminine novel, in many respects, that had appeared appearance of doubtful character between bear and man, since Miss Edgeworth's Vivian. Among other and scarcely distinguishable, by the colour of his dress, works of this class may be mentioned the tale of from the brown flags along which he sauntered. Dacre, 1834, by the COUNTESS OF MORLEY; and Two novels of the same class with those of Mr Records
, Love, The Courtier's Daughter, &c.— by LADY
several fashionable novels—The Divorced, Family Lister were written by the present MARQUIS OF
CHARLOTTE BURY. This lady is the supposed NORMANBY ; namely, Matilda, published in 1825, authoress of a Diary Illustrative of the Times of and Yes and No, a Tale of the Day, 1827. They George IV., a scandalous chronicle, published in were well received by the public, being in taste, 1838. It appears that her ladyship—then Lady correctness of delineation, and general good sense, Charlotte Campbell —had held an appointment in superior to the ordinary run of fashionable novels, the household of the Princess of Wales, and during but deficient in originality and vigour.
this time she kept a diary, in which she recorded
the foibles and failings of the unfortunate princess LADY CAROLINE LAMB-LADY DACRE-COUNTESS OF
and other members of the court. The work was
strongly condemned by the two leading critical LADY CAROLINE LAMB (1785–1828) was authoress journals—the Edinburgh and Quarterly Review-and
was received generally with disapprobation. of three works of fiction, which, from extrinsic circumstances, were highly popular in their day. The first, Glenarvon, was published in 1816, and the hero was understood to body forth the character and MR R. PLUMER Ward published in 1827 a sinsentiments of Lord Byron. It was a representation gular metaphysical and religious romance, entitled of the dangers attending a life of fashion. The Tremaine, or the Man of Refinement. The author's second, Graham Hamilton, depicted the difficulties name was not prefixed to his work; and as he and dangers inseparable, even in the most amiable alluded to his intimacy with English statesmen and minds, from weakness and irresolution of character. political events, and seemed to belong to the evanThe third, Ada Reis (1823), is a wild Eastern tale, gelical party in the church, much speculation took the hero being introduced as the Don Juan of his place as to the paternity of the novel. The writer day, a Georgian by birth, who, like Othello, is sold was evidently well-bred and intellectual-prone to to slavery,' but rises to honours and distinctions. philosophical and theological disquisitions, but at In the end Ada is condemned, for various misdeeds, the same time capable of forcible delineation of to eternal punishment ! The history of Lady character, and the management of natural dialogue Caroline Lamb is painfully interesting. She was and incidents. The prolixity of some of the dissertunited, before the age of twenty, to the Honourable ations and dialogues, where the story stood still for William Lamb (afterwards Lord Melbourne), and was half a volume, that the parties might converse and long the delight of the fashionable circles, from the dispute, rendered Tremaine somewhat heavy and singularity as well as the grace of her manners, her tedious, in spite of the vigour and originality of literary accomplishments, and personal attractions. talent it displayed. In a subsequent work, De Vere, On meeting with Lord Byron, she contracted an
or the Man of Independence, 1827, the public dwelt unfortunate attachment for the noble poet, which with keen interest on a portraiture of Mr Canning, continued three years, and was the theme of much whose career was then out close in his premaremark. The poet is said to have trifled with her ture death. The contention in the mind of this feelings, and a rupture took place. “For many years illustrious statesman between literary tastes and the Lady
Caroline led a life of comparative seclusion, pursuits of ambition, is beautifully delineated in one principally at Brocket Hall. This was interrupted passage which has been often quoted. It represents by a singular and somewhat romantic occurrence.
a conversation between Wentworth (Canning), Sir Riding with Mr Lamb, she met, just by the park-George Deloraine, a reserved and sentimental man, gates, the hearse which was conveying the remains and Dr Herbert.' The occasion of the conversation of Lord Byron to Newstead Abbey. She was taken was Wentworth’s having observed Deloraine coming home insensible: an illness of length and severity out of Westminster Abbey by the door at Poets succeeded. Some of her medical attendants imputed Corner. Meeting at dinner, Sir George is rallied her fits, certainly of great incoherence and long by Wentworth on his taste for the monuments of continuance, to partial insanity. At this supposi departed genius; which he defends ; and he goes on tion she was invariably and bitterly indignant. to add: Whatever be the cause, it is certain from that time her conduct and habits materially changed; and
(Power of Literary Genius.] about three years before her death a separation took 'It would do all you men of power good if you were place between her and Mr Lamb, who continued, to visit them too; for it would shew you how little however, frequently to visit, and, to the day of her death, to correspond with her. It is just to both
* Annual Obituary for 1829.
more than upon a level is often the reputation of the
" What boots it with incessant care, greatest statesman with the fame of those who, by their
To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, genius, their philosophy, or love of letters, improve
And strictly meditate the thankless muse? and gladden life even after they are gone. The
Were it not better done, as others use, whole company saw the force of this remark, and
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Wentworth not the least among them. You have
with the tangles of Neæra's hair?". touched a theme,' said he, 'which has often engaged Both Sir George and De Vere kindled at this; and the me, and others before me, with the keenest interest. doctor himself smiled, when the minister proceeded. I know nothing so calculated as this very reflection 'In short,' said he, 'when a statesman, or even a conto cure us poor political slaves——especially when we queror is departed, it depends upon the happier poet or feel the tugs we are obliged to sustain—of being philosophic historian to make even his name known to dazzled by meteors.' Meteors do you call them ?' posterity; while the historian or poet acquires immorsaid Dr Herbert. "Men do not run after meteors tality for himself in conferring upon his heroes an with such rapid and persevering steps as you great inferior existence.' 'Inferior existence !' exclaimed people pursue ambition. 'I grant you,' returned his Herbert. "Yes; for look at Plutarch, and ask which friend ; and if we did not think them something are most esteemed, himself or those he records ? Look better, who would give himself [q. themselves] up to at the old Claudii and Manlii of Livy; or the characters such labour, such invasions of their privacy and in Tacitus; or Mæcenas, Agrippa, or Augustus himself leisure, as we are forced to undergo?'. What is it, -princes, emperors, ministers, esteemed by contemthen, that so seduces you?', 'A little intoxication, poraries as gods! Fancy their splendour in the eye returned Mr Wentworth, laughing off a subject which of the multitude while the multitude followed them! he did not wish carried too far; for which you philos. Look at them now! Spite even of their beautiful ophers say we ought to be whipped, and for which historians, we have often difficulty in rummaging out whipped we often are. Those, however, who want this their old names; while those who wrote or sang of them whipping would do well to take Sir George's advice, and live before our eyes. The benefits they conferred passed visit the shrines of the mighty dead. They would see in a minute, while the compositions that record them how inferior most of themselves are in present estima- last for ever.' Mr Wentworth's energy moved his tion to beings who, when alive, could not, in splendour hearers, and even Herbert, who was too classical not to at least, compare with them. I have too often made be shaken by these arguments. “Still, however,' said the reflection, and was not the happier for it.' 'You the latter, 'we admire, and even wish to emulate cannot be serious,' said the divine; since who are Camillus and Miltiades, and Alexander; a Sully and a such real benefactors to mankind as enlightened legis- Clarendon.' 'Add a Lord Burleigh, replied the min. lators and patriot warriors? What poet, I had almost ister, 'who, in reference to Spenser, thought a hundred said what philosopher, can stand in competition with pounds an immense sum for a song! Which is now the founder or defender of his country?' 'Ask your most thought of, or most loved ?—the calculating minown Homer, your own Shakspeare,' answered Went- ister or the poor poet? the puissant treasurer or he worth, forgetting his ambition for a moment in his who was left "in suing long to bide ?”! Sir George love of letters. You take me in my weak part,' said and De Vere, considering the quarter whence it came, Herbert, "and the subject would carry us too far. I were delighted with this question. The doctor was would remark, however, that but for the Solons, the silent, and seemed to wish his great friend to go on. Romuluses, the Charlemagnes, and Alfreds, we should He proceeded thus : 'I might make the same question have no Homer or Shakspeare to charm us.' 'I know as to Horace and Mæcenas; and yet, I daresay, Horace this is your favourite theme,' said the minister,' and was as proud of being taken in Mæcenas's coach to the you know how much I agree with you. But this is not Capitol, as the dean of St Patrick's in Oxford's or precisely the question raised by Sir George; which is, Bolingbroke's to Windsor. Yet Oxford is even now the superiority in the temple of fame enjoyed by men chiefly remembered through that very dean, and so distinguished for their efforts in song or history—but perhaps would Bolingbroke, but that he is an author, who might have been mere beggars when alive-over and a very considerable one himself. We may recollect, those who flaunted it superciliously over them in a continued he, the manner in which Whitelocke mentions pomp and pride which are now absolutely forgotten.' Milton—that “one Milton, a blind man,” was made I will have nothing to do with supercilious flaunters, secretary to Cromwell. Whitelocke was then the first replied Herbert; “I speak of the liberal, the patriotic, subject in the state, and lived in all the pomp of the who seek power for the true uses of power, in order to seals, and all the splendour of Bulstrode; while the diffuse blessing and protection all around them. These blind man waked at early morn to listen to the lark can never fail to be deservedly applauded; and I honour bidding him good-morrow at his cottage-window. Where such ambition as of infinitely more real consequence to is the lord-keeper now!-where the blind man? What the world than those whose works-however I may love is known of Addison as secretary of state ? and how can them in private-can, from the mere nature of things, his excellency compare with the man who charms us so be comparatively known only to a few.' 'All that is exquisitely in his writings ? When I have visited his intermost true,' said Mr Wentworth ; "and for a while public esting house at Bilton, in Warwickshire, sat in his very men of the description you mention fill a larger space in study, and read his very books, no words can describe the eye of mankind; that is, of contemporary, mankind. my emotions. I breathe his official atmosphere here, But extinguish their power, no matter by what means, but without thinking of him at all. In short, there is whether by losing favour at court, or being turned out this delightful superiority in literary over political fame, by the country, to both which they are alike subject; that the one, to say the best of it, stalks in cold granlet death foreibly remove them, or a queen die, and deur upon stilts, like a French tragedy actor, while the their light, like Bolingbroke's, goes out of itself; their other winds itself into our warm hearts, and is hugged influence is certainly gone, and where is even their there with all the affection of a friend and all the reputation? It may glimmer for a minute, like the admiration of a lover. 'Hear! hear!' cried Sir George, dying flame of a taper, after which they soon cease to which was echoed by De Vere and Herbert himself. be mentioned, perhaps even remembered.' 'Surely, said the doctor, this is too much in extremes.'
De Clifford, or the Constant Man, produced in yet,' continued Wentworth, ‘have we not all heard of 1841, is also a tale of actual life; and as the hero is a maxim appalling to all lovers of political fame," that at one time secretary to a cabinet minister, Mr nobody is missed ?" Alas! then, are we not compelled Ward revels in official details, rivalries, and intrigue. to burst out with the poet :
In 1844 our author produced Chatsworth, or the