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, And not a single clap of thunder. The dauntless Brutus came to hector: 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 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, He drowned, in floods of generous wine, 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 When Celimena's false or cruel: The other, in his lovely strain, 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, 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, For your part, sketch how beauties tender, Of one who match'd the goddess-born : Held dull repose in hate and scorn: 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: At matins, mass, and vespers steady? He left these cares to my good lady. Condé himself may have a double; Would cost dame nature too much trouble. Canvas and colours change once more, And paint him forth in various light: And chronicle of love and fight; Sworn enemy to all long speeches; Author of many a repartee: Remember, over all, that he Was most renowned for storming breaches. On which a daring boast sustaining, He came before a prince of France, Victorious in Alsace campaigning.* Tell too by what enchanting art, If skill or courage gain'd his aim ; He carried off gay Buckingham.† 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. |