of the tumult which usually announces the arrival of ghosts of consequence preceded this apparition.

The sky was clear and still o'er head,

No earthquake shook the regions under,
No subterraneous murmur dread,

And not a single clap of thunder.
He was not clothed in rags, or tatter'd,
Like that same grim and grisly spectre,
Who, ere Philippi's contest clatter'd,

The dauntless Brutus came to hector:
Nor was he clad like ghost of Laius,
Who, when against his son he pled,
Nor worse nor better wardrobe had,
Than scanty mantle of Emaeus :

Nor did his limbs a shroud encumber,

Like that which vulgar sprites enfold,

When, gliding from their ghostly hold,

They haunt our couch, and scare our slumber.

By all this we saw the ghost's intention was not to frighten us. He was dressed exactly as when we had first the pleasure of his acquaintance in London. He had the same air of mirth, sharpened and chastened by satirical expression, and even the same dress, which undoubtedly he had preserved for this visit. Lest you doubt it,

His ancient studying-cap he wore,

Well tann'd, of good Morocco hide ;t
The eternal double loop before,

That lasted till its master died :

* With whom, as appears from the Memoirs, the Count, while residing in London, maintained the closest intimacy. St. Evremont was delighted with his wit, vivacity, and latitude of principle; he called him his hero; wrote verses in his praise; in short, took as warm an interest in him as an Epicurean philosopher can do in any one but himself.

† One of St. Evremont's peculiarities was, that instead of a wig, the universal dress of the time, he chose to wear his own grey hair, covered with the leathern cap described in the text.

As when, with lovely Mazarine,
Still boasting of the name of Sage,

He drowned, in floods of generous wine,
The dulness and the frost of age,

And daily paid the homage due,

To charms that seem'd for ever new.

As he arrived un-announced, he placed himself between us without ceremony, but could not forbear smiling at the respect with which we withdrew our chairs, under pretence of not crowding him. I had always heard that it was necessary to question folks of the other world, in order to engage them in conversation; but he soon shewed us the contrary; for, casting his eyes on the paper which we had left on the table,"I approve," said he, "of your plan, and I come to give you some advice for the execution; but I cannot comprehend the choice you have made of these two gentlemen as assistants. I admit, it is impossible to write more beautifully than they both do; but do you not see that they write nothing but by starts, and that their subjects are as extraordinary as their caprice?

Love-lorn and gouty, one soft swain
Rebels, amid his rhymes profane,
Against specific water-gruel;
Or cherups, in his ill-timed lay,
The joys of freedom and tokay,

When Celimena's false or cruel:

The other, in his lovely strain,
Fresh from the font of Hippocrene,

Rich in the charms of sound and sense,

Throws all his eloquence away,

And vaunts, the live-long lingering day,

The languid bliss of indolence.

"Give up thoughts of them, if you please; for though you have invoked them, they won't come the sooner to your succour: Arrange, as well as you can, the materials you had

Conectou vir veritis, au nevoi mu ne viti i ve vi ovumus.

I would advise you, on the contrary, to chuse the latter years of your hero for your principal subject: His earlier adventures are too remote to be altogether so interesting in the present day. Make some short and light observations on the resolution he has formed of never dying, and upon the power he seems to possess of carrying it into execution.*

That art by which his life he has warded,

And death so often has retarded,

'Tis strange to me,

The world's envy

Has ne'er with jaundiced eye regarded:

But mid all anecdotes he tells

Of warriors, statesmen, and of belles,

With whom he fought, intrigued, and slept,
That rare and precious mystery,

His art of immortality,

Is the sole secret he has kept.

"Do not embarrass your brains in seeking ornaments, or turns of eloquence to paint his character: That would resemble strained panegyric; and a faithful portrait will be his best praise. Take care how you attempt to report his stories, or bons mots: The subject is too great for you. Try only, in

*The Count de Grammont, in his old age, recovered, contrary to the expectation of his physicians, and of all the world, from one or two dangerous illnesses, which led him often to say, in his lively manner, that he had formed a resolution never to die. This declaration is the subject of much raillery through the whole epistle.

+ Bussi Rabutin assures us, that much of the merit of Grammont's bons mots consisted in his peculiar mode of delivering them, although his reputation as a wit was universally established. Few of those which have been preserved are susceptible of translation; but the following may be taken as a specimen :

One day when Charles II. dined in state, he made Grammont remark, that he was served upon the knee; a mark of respect not common at other courts. "I thank your Majesty for the explanation," answered Grammont: "I thought they were begging pardon for giving you so bad a dinner."-Louis XIV., playing at tric-trac, disputed a throw with

relief to his merits.

'Twas thus, by easy route of yore,
My hero to the skies I bore.*

For your part, sketch how beauties tender,
Did to his vows in crowds surrender :
Shew him forth-following the banners

Of one who match'd the goddess-born :
Shew how in peace his active manners

Held dull repose in hate and scorn:
Shew how at court he made a figure,
Taught lessons to the best intriguer,

his opponent: The by-standers were appealed to, and could not decide the cause. It was referred to Grammont, who, from the further end of the gallery, declared against the king. "But you have not heard the case," said Louis. "Ah, Sire," replied the Count, "if your majesty had but a shadow of right, would these gentlemen have failed to decide in your favour ?”

* St. Evremont, whose attachment to Grammont amounted to enthusiasm, composed the following epitaph upon him, made, however, long before the Count's death, in which he touches many of the topics which he here is supposed to recommend to Hamilton.

Here lies the Count de Grammont, stranger!

Old Evremont's eternal theme:
He who shared Condé's every danger,
May envy from the bravest claim.
Wouldst know his art in courtly life?
It match'd his courage in the strife.
Wouldst ask his merit with the fair?-
Who ever liv'd his equal there?
His wit to scandal never stooping
His mirth ne'er to buffoon'ry drooping :
Keeping his character's marked plan,
As spouse, sire, gallant, and old man.
But went he to confession duly?

At matins, mass, and vespers steady?
Fervent in prayer?-to tell you truly,

He left these cares to my good lady.
We may once more see a Turenne ;

Condé himself may have a double;
But to make Grammont o'er again,

Would cost dame nature too much trouble.

Canvas and colours change once more,

And paint him forth in various light:
The scourge of coxcomb and of bore;
Live record of lampoons in score,

And chronicle of love and fight;
Redoubted for his plots so rare,
By every happy swain and fair;
Driver of rivals to despair;

Sworn enemy to all long speeches;
Lively and brilliant, frank and free;

Author of many a repartee:

Remember, over all, that he

Was most renowned for storming breaches.
Forget not the white charger's prance,

On which a daring boast sustaining,

He came before a prince of France,

Victorious in Alsace campaigning.*

Tell too by what enchanting art,
Or of the head, or of the heart,

If skill or courage gain'd his aim ;
When to Saint Alban's foul disgrace,
Despite his colleague's grave grimace,
And a fair nymph's seducing face,

He carried off gay Buckingham.†
Speak all these feats, and simply speak,-
To soar too high were forward freak,-

To keep Parnassus' skirts discreetest;

For 'tis not on the very peak,

That middling voices sound the sweetest.

* Grammont had promised to the Dauphin, then commanding the army in Alsace, that he would join him before the end of the campaign, mounted on a white horse.

+ Grammont is supposed to have had no small share in determining the Duke of Buckingham, then Charles the Second's favourite minister, to break the triple alliance; for which purpose he went to France with the Count, in spite of all that the other English ministers, and even his mistress, the celebrated Countess of Shrewsbury, could do to prevent him.