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accounts of the boisterousness of his dispo- not say when Cromwell was in this low courses,-the taverns the chief places of his sition rendering him a terror to the neigh- splenetic state. Had Cromwell had such a residence; but that his rude and boisterous bourhood; and, above all, the incredible story dream, the doctor must have heard it in his behaviour prevented his equals consortof his disagreement with and giving the attendance upon hita in the state of mind he ing with him. This conduct, it is added, King's son, the then Duke of York, after- describes hin, most likely to produce un-with forgetting to pay his reckoning, made wards King Charles, a blow, when at play at pleasant or extraordinary dreams; and, in him an unwelcome visitor, even to the pubHinchinbrooke; also his supposed dream of his relation of his complaints, he could not licans; nor were the young women less his future greatness, and his acting in the com- have forgotten one so extraordinary. There fearful of him, from the rude incivilities they edy of Lingua; these must be the fabrications can be no doubt that this dream was a fabri- received from him. This climax is reached of the different writers after the Restoration, cation after the event, and probably after by the relation of a story of his filthily bewho chose to suppose there must be some- the Restoration, when every idle story to his daubing his cloaths, and dancing in that thing marvellous and criminal in the very prejudice met with a welcoine reception. state at a Christmas festival given by his earliest moments of this extraordinary man's This is a fair specimen of the writer's uncle Sir Oliver Cromwell; and by other life. Indeed, it is quite improbable that all, mode of reasoning and it will, we irregularities, whereby he is said to have foror any of the trifling incidents of his childhood and youth, should have been noticed, presume, confirm the idea we have feited his uncle's good opinion. The stories of his successes whilst in town, in Lincoln'eand then preserved during a period of be thrown out respecting it. We quote, must fall to the ground, because he never tween fifty and sixty years; nor was it very a few other passages on the same subwas there. The most diligent search has likely that the witnesses to these things ject. now been made, and his name is not found should have been then living, and in At the time of the King's forementioned in its records; and Sir James Burrows, in session of memory and mental powers suffi- first visiting Hinchinbrooke, in his way from his anecdotes and observations relating to cient to have accurately remembered and Scotland, which was in 1603, Cromwell was Cromwell and his family, also says, that related them. [They might however have not more than four years old; and in 1616 upon search his name does not there appear. been handed down from sire to son, and and 1617, when the King is said again to have Nor is it likely that in those days, a youth it is very likely that many true as well as visited Hinchinbrooke, he must have been of eighteen or nineteen years of age should false anecdotes of a person who had risen so between seventeen and eighteen years of age, be sent to an inn of court. His son Richard high would be thus preserved.] Lord Cla- and the prince one year older than him; and was certainly of that society. To conclude rendon mentious Cromwell's supposed dream, the two latter times, Cromwell must have the subject of the supposed vices and follies and relates, that during his deliberation re- known better than thus to conduct himself, of Cromwell's early life,-the short time specting the proposed taking upon himself supposing nothing to have prevented him. allowed for their commission, presents a the office of King, he revolved in his mind At college, he is described by different his-powerful obstacle to the belief of them. this dream or apparition, that had at first torians,-one, to save the trouble of exami-Some of them do not belong to the early age informed and promised him the high fortune nation, following another, as living a disso- of sixteen or seventeen; nor was he, during to which he was then already arrived; which, lute and disorderly course of life, being more his father's life, likely to be guilty of ex-he says, had been generally spoken of even famous whilst there for foot-ball, cricket, cesses of any sort. If he remained only one from the beginning of the troubles, and that cudgelling, and wrestling, than for study, and year at college, he would be eighteen years he remembered that it had only declared as being of a rough and blustering disposi-of age when he quitted it and he must have that he should be the greatest man in Eng-tion, acquiring the name of Royster. Some been married before he was twenty-one, his land, and should be near to be King, which writers say, he continued at college one year, first child appearing to have been baptized seemed to imply, that he should be only near, others two: upon the strictest search and in the year 1621, when he could not be more and never actually attain the crown. How enquiry at the college, no trace is to be than about twenty-two; so that three years his Lordship should thus acquire the know-found there of the time of his quitting, and must have been the utmost of the vicious ledge of Cromwell's inmost thoughts is not it is not likely that there should be any other part of his life; but no evidence to be relied conceivable had he for a moment indulged authentic source of information, after the on, is afforded of his having improperly in his own mind a thought upon so silly a lapse of forty years to the Restoration. [Is quitted his college, or of his having resided subject, he would probably have been asham- not this an unsupported assumption?] No in town, or of his having there or elsewhere ed to communicate it to his nearest friend. ground, therefore, of belief is left that he lived a licentious life: his early marriage is Sir Phillip Warwick mentions this dream. quitted the college before the usual time of a circumstance in favour of his previous He relates that, after the rendition of Oxford, quitting, or that he misbehaved himself whilst sobriety. (which was in June 1646), he was frequent- there. The discipline may be presumed to ly with his wife's sister, near Huntingdon, have been very strict, and consequently the where he had occasion to converse with youth kept very orderly, to afford Archbishop Cromwell's physician, Dr. Simcott, who as- Laud, then bishop of London, cause to comsured him, that for many years, he (Crom- plain (as he does in his considerations, prewell, his patient) was a most splenetic man, sented by him to the King in the year 1628, and had fancies about the cross in that town; for better settling the church-government) and that he had been called up to him at of this college and of Emanuel being the nidnight, and such unseasonable hours, very nurseries of puritanism. Al', therefore, that many times, upon a strong fancy, which is related of Cromwell's dissipated life at made him believe he was then dying. Sir college, and his short continuance there, Phillip then adds, "And there went a story of must be wholly invention, for the purpose of him," that, in the day-time, lying melancho- vilifying him, and rendering him odious and In Thurloc's State Papers is a letter from ly upon his bed, he believed that a spirit contemptible from the very outset of his Beverning, the Dutch deputy in England, to appeared to him, and told him that he should life. In the pursuit of this object, he is Jongestall, at the Hague, dated August 12— be the greatest man (not mentioning the supposed to be sent by his mother to Lin-22, 1653, wherein he says, "Last Saturday word King) in this kingdom; which his coln's-inn, soon after his return from Cam-I had a discourse with His Excellency Cromuncle, Sir Thomas Steward, told him was bridge, where his mind is said to have been well above two hours, being without any traitorous to relate. This must be the same ingrossed by the juice of the grape and the story that Lord Clarendon relates; but, it charms of the fair, with a habit of gaming, is very evident, from Sir Phillip's change of instead of attending to his law studies. For expression, that this story of the dream made the purpose of carrying on the story, he is no part of the doctor's relation, and that it then described as returning to Huntingdon a was mere common report. Sir Phillip does finished rake, where he followed his vicious

:

This is rather better logic than what precedes it; but it is worthy of remark, that the author, while he refuse any credit to assertions made after the Restoration, calls upon us to believe those written during the Protectorate. We attach equal value to the flatteries of power, and the calumnies on fallen greatness. We extract another illustrative passage:

body present with us. His Excellency spoke his own language so distinctly, that I could understand him. I answered again in Latin." Mr. Noble says he (Cromwell) answered, which is a mistake. Beverning writes to the same effect to Nieuport, on the

JOURNAL OF THE BELLES LETTRES.

The following is a copy of an original letter, and is addressed to her at Combury, the gein the British Museum, from Cromwell to his daughter Ireton, given by Dr. Harris: it is dated, London, 25th October, 1646, neral's head quarters.

"Deere Daughter,"

;

All Cromwell's supposed excesses are, it | present notice with three of his letters, same 22d of August. Although Cromwell did not here speak Latin, yet he must have is observable, confined to the years preceding which will afford very accurate grounds well understood the language, as he could his coming of age; because then he is to be for judging of the style of that time, and not then have had an interpreter with him, produced in a state of repentance preparatory of the writer's manner in addressing nobody being present at the meeting besides to his marriage, which is supposed to have Cromwell and the writer; who, though he been brought about by his relations, the his nearest relatives. appears to have understood the English lan-Hampdens and the Barringtons; and then, guage when clearly and distinctly spoken to it is said, that his settling part of his paternal him, did not sufficiently understand it to estate upon his wife, is a proof that he had not spent it, as some imagined, adding, that converse in it; he therefore preferred carThen comes a charge of a very serious "I write not to thy husband, partly to rying on the conversation in Latin, in which there had not been time for it. Cromwell must have been well versed to be able to continue it for more than two nature, of his endeavouring to mend his suphours. Hence, it also appears that Crom-posed broken fortune, by annexing the estate well spoke his own language well and cor- of his maternal uncle, Sir Thomas Steward, avoyd trouble; for one line of mine begitts siderations. Your friends at Ely are well rectly, and expressed himself clearly and in- to his own, by representing him as a person many of his, wch I doubt makes him sitt up Majesty for a commission of lunacy, which posed att this tyme, havinge some other contelligibly, and not in the confused manner unfit to govern it, and petitioning to His too fate; partly because I am myself indisBut, most extraordinary generally attributed to him. the King refused. to relate, this sune uncle, for the purpose of your sister Clapole is (I trust in mercye) exalsoe) that wch will satisfie; and thus to reconciling this story with his uncle's will inercised with some perplexed thoughts: his favour, is supposed to have been prevailed she sees her own vanitye and carnal minde, finder; and such a one shall every faythfull estate. This supposed attempt to deprive be a seeker, is to bee of the best seet next a upon to forgive him, and to leave him his bewailinge itt; she seekes after (as I hope terpreter had done, the Protector stood still his uncle of his estate, would have been so a pretty while, and patting off his hat to the atrocious and unpardonable, that the reason-humble seeker bee att the end. Hippie ambassador, with a carriage full of gravity able conclusion must be, that this disposition and state, he answered him in English. That in favour of Cromwell proves the falschood secker, happie finder. Whoever tasted that this speech was not interpreted, because the of the story. Mr. Noble, in his third edition, the Lord is gracious, without some sence of ambassador understood English; and that gives a copy of this will, which is dated Ja self-vanitye and badnesse? Who ever tasted after it was done, the ambassador gave co-nuary 29, 1635, by which he gives all his that graciousnesse of his and could goe lesse pies of his speech in Swedish and in Latin landed property to his nephew, Oliver Crom-in desier and lesse then pressinge after full to the Protector. This is surely a further well. He desires to be buried in the cathe-enjoyment. Deere hart, presse on; lett not proof of Cromwell's familiar acquaintance with the Latin tongue, in which he would probably have answered the ambassador, had he not understood English. The same writer, in his journal of his Swedish embassy in the year 1653 and 1654, also says, that at a dinner at Grocer's Hall, in the city of London, Cromwell discoursed in Latin with

Whitelock, in his account of Cromwell's reception of the Swedish ambassador in 1655, when Protector, says, the ambassador spoke in the Swedish language, and that after he interpret it in Latin; and that after the inhad done, being but short, his secretary did

the Swedish ambassador.

Enough, it is conceived, has been said in disproof of the common assertion of Cromwell's deficiency in the knowledge of the Latin language, and of his own tongue, and of his supposed early loss of time in idleness and dissipation.

Many may consider it no very important natter now, whether Cromwell understood latin well or ill; but to those who attach any interest to the point, it will be evident that the foregoing goes much farther to prove that he was an indifferent than a tolerable classic. His not speaking latin in answer to the Dutch Deputy using that tongue, is a very strong fact towards that conclusion; and even the Swedish audience is a negative argument the

same

dral church of Ely, in the tomb of his grand-
father.

husband, let not any thinge cool thy affeetions after Christ. I hope hee will be an oc

casion to inflame them. That wch is best

I for thee and him: doe soe for me.
pray
worthy of love in thy husband is, that of the
image of Christ he beares; look on that,
and love it best, and all the rest for that.
My service and deere affections to the gene-
rail and generalesse; I heere she is very kind
love to all. I am thy deere father.
to thee; it adds to all other obligations. My

OLIVER CROMWELL."

The following is a copy of an original letIt is dated 13th Aug. 1649, and is addressed, "For my beloved daughter Dorothye Cromter in the possession of the Cromwell family. well (Richard Cromwell's wife) at Hurslye,

In continuance of these farcical representations, Cromwell is now, upon his marriage, to become too good: the strictness of his manners, it is said, had recommended him to the notice of the austere non-conformists, who weaned him from the established church, and he became sometimes a preacher amongst them. This is not likely to be true; all his children appear, by the foregoing registers, to have been baptized according to the rites of the established church; nor are the above chapter of Ely, an inconsiderable proof that grants to himn of the leases by the dean and he had not yet become a non-conformist, which was at that time a hated character. "Your letter was very welcome to mee, Nor does he appear to have been considered by the then government as its inveterate enemy, although he had opposed some I like to see any thinge from your hand, beof its measures in the parliament of 1627; cause indeed I stick not to say I doe entireto thee; I desire you both to make itt above for, in the sixth year of the reign of the King lye love you, and therefore I hope a word of don, that by the charter then granted to that (1631), it appears, in the records of Hunting advise will not be unwelcom nor unacceptable town, Thoinas Beard, D. D., Robert Barto be frequently calling upon him that Hee nard, Esq., and Oliver Cromwell, Esq., bur-all thinges your businesse to seeke the Lord, gesses for their lives, together with the high- would manifest himselfe to you in his Sonn, to you, for Hee will be speakinge in your eare steward, the recorder, the mayor, the senior and be listeninge to what returnes Ice makes alderman, and the chamberlain for the time being, were created justices for that borough

way; and although the author
The author follows his famous ances-
changes the admission "distinctly,
used by a foreigner, into "well and tor from his residence at Huntingdon to
correctly," as applied by a native (ex-St. Ives-denies that he was profligate
pressions of extremely different mean-
ing) he entirely fails in convincing us
of the point he labours to demonstrate.
The subjoined is infinitely more to the
purpose.

during the few years he lived there-and
thence to Ely. His more public trans-
actions are too well known to tempt us
to dwell on the parts which treat of
them; and we therefore conclude our

theise.

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My deere Daughter;

and in your hart, if you attend thereunto,
I desire you to provoake your husband like-
wise thereunto. As for the pleasures of this
in Christ and then you shall have the trewe
life and outward businesse lett that bee upon
use and comfort of them, and not otherwise.
the by, bee above all theise thinges by fayth
have much satisfaction in hope your spirit
is this way sett, and I desire you may growe
in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord

I

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66

"Dick Cromwell;

"I take your letters kindlye: I like expressions when they come plainlye from the heart, and are not strayned nor affected. I am perswaded it's the Lord's mercye to place you where you are; I wish you may owne itt and be thankefull, fulfillinge all relations to the glory of God. Seeke the Lord and his face continually, lett this bee the businesse of your life and strength. And lett all thinges bee subservient and in order to this. You cannott finde, nor behold the Face of God but in Christe, therefore labor to knowe God in Christ, wch the Scriptures makes to bee the sum of all, even life eternall. Because the true knowledge is not

I would not have him alter his affaires be-
cause of my debt. My purse is as his, my
present thoughtes are but to lodge such a
sum for my two little gyrles: its in his
hand as well as any where. I shall not be
wantinge to accommodate him to his minde.
I would not have him sollicitous. Dick, the
Lord blesse you every way.
"I rest,

"Your lovinge Father,
"O. CROMWELL."
Altogether, this is more a useful, than a
literary work, and its defect is, that of being
too much studied for the Cromwell family.

Observations, Anecdotes, and Characters
of Books and Men. By the Rev. Jo-
seph Spence. Arranged with Notes
by the late Edmund Malone, Esq.
London, 1820. 8vo. pp. 302.

This work, as originally announced,
was to consist of two volumes; but it
now appears, and very carelessly done
too, in one only. "Arranged" it can
hardly be called; and whoever has had
the task of editing what Malone threw
together from Spence, has bestowed
very little pains upon the subject. It
seems as if many parts of Spence's
common-place book had been tran-
scribed without order or reference; and
the only thing like classification into the
three heads, of "Popiana," English
Poets and Prose Writers (and a few Fo-
reign Writers,)" and " Miscellaneous,"
is disregarded in every division. Irre-

age of taste and correctness, and to develope the arts of composition; he had to teach us to learn to think; he had to escape from our native but undisciplined invention, and to restrain our prurient imagination in conception and expression; and to polish a diction colloquially feeble or unskilfully perplexed. Literature assumed a new form; the triumphs and the factions of literature arose with the interests they excited in the public feelings, but the progress of his own works was an object, not only of his egotism, but of the curiosity of other men, and the delight of the retentive fondness of Spence.

Some indulgence may however be claimed for one portion of Spence's anecdotes; in the literary class, the reader will find many with which he is not unacquainted; but if they appear to him as twice-told, he must recollect that Spence was the first teller.

very bold, inconsiderate, and unfounded The first period in this extract is a assertion; taste and literature were both of earlier birth than last century.

To teach us to learn to think," is another strange passage, which, if it is not nonsense, is a fallacy; and as for the concluding sentence, some regard to weeding out the most trite and well known anecdotes, would have been a wiser course than such an apology for reiterating them.

We select, without further preface or remark, the most striking and novel

extracts.

In the Moral Poem I had written an ad

literall or speculative, but inward, transform-gularity and confusion are the conse- dress to our Saviour, imitated from Lucre

Notwithstanding this very reprehensible inattention, there are a good many amusing and curious matters in this publication; and though the far greater proportion of its contents wants the recommendation of novelty, it will muster as a pleasing parlour companion.

pass

inge the minde to itt, its unitinge to, and quences; and not only are the same
participatinge of the Divine nature. (2 Pet. anecdotes, &c. repeated in substance,
i. 4. Its such a knowledge as Paul speakes but frequently in words. Of this, pa-
off. Phillip. the 3d. 8, 9, 10. How little ges 144 and 148, 153 and 155, where
of this knowledge of Christ is there amongst we find the identical notices (one of
us! My weake prayers shal be for you, them even reprinted verbatim the third
take heede of an unactive vaine spirit. Re-time,) which we have perused in the
create yourselfe w' Sir Walter Raugh-
leye's Historie; its a bodye of historic, and preceding Popiana.
will add much more to your understandinge
then fragments of storie." Intend to understand
the estate I have settled: its your concern-
ment to knowe itt all, and how itt stands; I
have heeretofore suffered much by too much
trustinge others; I know my brother Maior
wil be helpful to you in all this: you will
thinke (perhaps) I need not advise you to
love your wife. The Lord teach you to how
to doe itt, or else itt wil be done ilfavouredly.
Though marriage bee noe instituted sacra-
ment, yett where the undefiled bed is, and
love, this union aptly resembles Christ, and
his church. If you can truely love your
wife what doeth Christ beare to his church
and every poore soule therein, who gave
himselfe for itt and to itt. Commend mee
to your wife; tell her I entyerly love
her and rejoyce in the goodnesse of the Lord
to her. I wish her every way fruitfull. I
thanke her for her lovinge letter. I have
presented my love to my sister and cozen
Ann, etc. in my letter to my brother Maior.

Spence (says the advertisement) lived
in an age when taste first appeared among
us, and literature first began to diffuse
itself among the nation. By his habits
a man of letters; by his skill a classi-
cal and elegant critic; and by the sweet-
ness of his manners and perpetual curiosity,
Spence was well adapted to promote, as well
as to record the many conversations he has
preserved for posterity. Pope was "the
god of his idolatry," for Pope was the crea-
tor of an epoch in our literature. This pe-
riod was a transition from one age to ano-
ther. The immortal writer had to open an

tius's compliment to Epicurus; but omitted it by the advice of Dean Berkley. One of our priests, who are more narrow than yours, made a less sensible objection to the Epistle on Happiness: he was very angry that there was nothing said in it of our eternal happiness hereafter; though my subject was expressly to treat only of the state of man here.-Mr. Pope.

When I was looking over some things I had brought from Italy, to pick out what might be of use to his grotto, and came among the rest to some beads and medals that had been blest at Loretto, he laid them gently aside, and said "these would be good presents for a papist."-The same.

I endeavoured (says he smiling) in this poem to collect all the beauties of the great epic writers into one piece: there was Milton's style in one part, and Cowley's in another; here the style of Spenser imitated, and there of Statius; here Homer and Virgil, and there Ovid and Claudian. "It was an imitative poem then, as your other exercises were imitations of this or that story?" "Just that."-The same.

On Lord Hyde's return from his travels, his brother-in-law, the Lord Essex, told him, with a great deal of pleasure, that he had got a pension for him. It was a very handsome one, and quite equal to his rank. All Lord Hyde's answer was, "How could you

JOURNAL OF THE BELLES LETTRES.

tell, my lord, that I was to be sold; or, at least, how could you know my price so exactly?"-The same.] Mr. Pope never flattered any body for money in the whole course of his writings. Alderman Barber had a great inclination to have a stroke in his commendation inserted He did in some part of Mr. Pope's works. not want money, and he wanted fame. He would probably have given four or five thousand pounds to have been gratified in this desire; and gave Mr. Pope to understand as much. Mr. Pope would not comply with such a baseness; and when the alderman died he left him only a legacy of a hundred pounds, which might have been some thousands, if he had obliged him only with a couplet. Mr. W. [who had it from Mr. Pope, and I have been assured of it by others who knew both Mr. Pope and the Alderman very well.]

The list for prose authors, from whose works such a dictionary should be collected, was talked over several times. There were eighteent of them named by Mr. Pope, but four § of that number were only named as authorities for familiar dialogues and writings of that kind. The same.

Should I not write down Hooke and Middleton? Ay; and I think there's scarce any more of the living that you need name.-The

same.

The list of writers that might serve as authorities for poetical language was begun upon twice, but left very imperfect. There were but nine || mentioned, and two¶ of those only for the burlesque style.-The same. Here am I, like Socrates, distributing my morality among my friends, just as I dying.-Mr. Pope [on sending about some of his ethic epistles as presents, about three weeks before we lost him.]

am

There is so much trouble in coming into the world, and so much uneasiness in going out of it, that-it is hardly worth while to be here at all! Lord Bolingbroke. [His lordship's melancholy attitude that morning (the 21st), leaning against Mr. Pope's chair, and crying over him for a considerable time with more concern than can be expressed.]

Ah! great God, what is man?-The same. [Looking on Mr. Pope, and repeating it several times, interrupted with sobs.]

When I was telling his lordship that Mr. Pope, on every catching and recovering of his mind, was always saying something kind

It was on this account that Mr. Pope compliments him with that passage

66

disdain what Cornbury disdains." +Mr.W. here quoted as an authority about Alderman Barber, was probably Warburton.-M. Lord Bacon, Hooker, Hobbes, Ben Jonson, Lord Clarendon, Barrow, Tillotson, Dryden, Sir Wm. Temple, L'Estrange, Locke, Spratt, Atterbury, Congreve, Addison, Vanburgh, Swift, Lord Bolingbroke.

Ben Johnson, Congreve, L'Estrange, Vanburgh.

II Spenser, Shakspeare, Fletcher, Waller,

Butler, Milton, Dryden, Prior, Swift.

Butler and Swift. Fletcher was mentioned only as an authority for familiar dialogue and the slighter kinds of writing.

"What! two thousand pounds for a poem !" ly either of his present or absent friends, and a friend of the duke's, who was surprised that this in some cases was so surprising, at the largeness of the present, cried out, that it seemed to me as if his humanity had was fairly worth four thousand.-Mr. Rawoutlived his understanding, lord Bolingbroke The duke smiled, and said it was the best said, "it has so!" and then added, "I never bargain he ever made in his life, for it in my life knew a man that had so tender a heart for his particular friends, or a more linson. general friendship for mankind.”

I have known him these thirty years, and
-(sinking his head, and
value myself more for that man's love and
friendship, than-
I am so certain of the soul's being im-
losing his voice in tears.)-The same.
mortal, that I seem to feel it within me as
When a friend asked him whether he
if it were by intuition.—Mr. Pope.
would not die as his father and mother had
done, and whether he should send for a
priest, he said, "I do not suppose that it is
essential, but it will be very right, and I
heartily thank you for putting me in mind of
it."-The same.

66 there is
In the morning, after the priest had given
him the last sacraments, he said,
nothing that is meritorious but virtue and
friendship, and indeed friendship itself is
only a part of virtue."

When the Doctor was very deeply engaged in writing one of his tragedies, that He procured a human skull, and fixed a candle in it, and gave it to the Doctor, as the nobleman made him a very different present. most proper lamp for him to write tragedy by.-The same.

Sir Isaac Newton, a little before he died, said, "I don't know what I may seem to the world; but as to myself, I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me."Ramsay.

'Tis not at all improbable that Sir Isaac There was a time, I can assure you, when Newton, though so great a man, might have had a hankering after the French prophets. he was possessed with the old fooleries of after the philosopher's stone.-Lockier. astrology; and another when he was so far gone in chemistry as to be upon the hunt

When the Bishop of Rochester was in "What shall we do with the man?"-Lord Cadogan answered, "Fling the tower, upon its being said in the drawing-room, him to the lions." The Bishop was told of this, and soon after in a letter to Mr. Pope, said that he had fallen upon some verses by chance in his room, which he must copy out for him to read. These were gan. four extreme severe lines against Lord Cado

Mr. Pope died the 30th of May, 1744, in the evening; but they did not know the exact time, for his departure was so easy, that it Lord Dorset used to say of a very goodwas imperceptible even to the standers-by. natured dull fellow, it is a thousand pities that man is not ill-natured, that we might Wycherly was a very handsome man. kick him out of company.-The same. His acquaintance with the famous duchess of Cleaveland commenced oddly enough. One day as he passed that duchess's coach in the Ring, she leaned out of the window, Sir, you're a rascal; distinctly by him, and cried out, loud enough to be heard you're a villain." Wycherly from that instant entertained hopes. He did not fail waiting on her next morning; and with a The Jews offered my Lord Godolphin to melancholy tone begged to know how it was possible for him to have so much disobliged her grace? They were very good friends from that time; yet, after all, what did he pay five hundred thousand pounds, (and the young duke of Richmond. King Charles government would allow them to purchase get by her? He was to have travelled with they would have made it a million) if the not often; and he was an equerry".-Mr. now and then gave him a hundred pounds-the town of Brentford, with leave of setPope.

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Rowe was first bred at Westminster, and a year and his chambers there. His father then at the Temple. He had about 3007. was a serjeant at law. He was of a pretty personage, and a very pretty sort of man.Mr. Lewis.

Frowd for his precious soul cares not a pin-a, For he can now do nothing else but Cinn—a . was an epigram made by Mr. Rowe on Phil. Frowd's uncle, when that gentleman was writing a tragedy of that name.-Mr. Pope.

A little after Dr. Young had published his Universal Passion, the Duke of Wharton made him a present of 20001. for it. When

Dennis says, he was cquerry to the duke of Buckingham, as Master of the Horse to the king. Letters, p. 219.

By fear unmoved, by shame unaw'd,
A bold, bad, boist'rous, blust ring, bloody booby.
Offspring of hangman and of bawd!
Ungrateful to the ungrateful man he grew by,

Anen.

trade, &c. The agents from the Jews said, tling there entirely, with full privileges of that the affair was already concerted with would bring the richest of their merchants the chief of their brethren abroad; that it twenty millions of money to circulate in hither, and of course an addition of above the nation. Lord Molesworth was in the room with Lord Godolphin, when this proposal was made; and as soon as the agent was gone, pressed him to close with it. Lord Godolphin was not of his opinion. most powerful bodies in the nation, the He foresaw that it would provoke two of the clergy and the merchants; he gave other reasons too against it; and, in fine, it was dropped.-Lockier.

When Henry the Fourth of France was reconciled to the church of Rome, it was able testimonial of his sincerity in returnexpected that he should give some remark

ing to the true faith. He accordingly or- It is worthy of a notice, en passant, dered a cross to be erected at Rome, near that the excellent head of Syntax is a the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, with plagiarism from that of "My Uncle," this inscription, In hoc signo vinces, on the by Dagley, in D'Israeli's amusing book, principal part of it. This passed at first as "Flim Flams." very catholic, till it was observed that the part in which the inscription is put is shaped in the form of a cannon, and that he had really attributed only to his artillery what they had taken to be addressed to Heaven. -Ficorini, at (Rome.)

Dante's poem got the name of Comedia after his death. He, in that piece, had called Virgil's works tragedies (or sublime poctry), and, in deference to him, called his own comedy (or low); and hence was that word used afterwards, by mistake, for the title of his poem.-Dr. Cocchi.

Second Tour of Doctor Syntax in search of the Picturesque, a Poem, in Eight Monthly Numbers. No. I. Evo. pp.

32.

A poem written by the same author (Mr. Coombe, we believe), and ornamented by the same artist, Mr. Rowlandson, as the first highly popular tour of this imaginary and eccentric divine. As the first number of such a work must be rather introductory, than in the full flush of a writer's power for entertainment, we shall be very concise in our remarks upon the renewed setting out of our old and amusing favourite. As there is no emblem of pretence in his escutcheon, it provokes no severity of criticism; and we are well enough pleased to go ambling, sometimes hobbling along, with a sort of versification, which resembles the parson's nag in its paces, never hunter-like attempting a ştile, but varying a steady walk with an occasional halt, or an easy canter. As for the story: the doctor loses his beloved wife, at a moment of paternal expectancy; and after remaining some time at Squire Worthy's, finding no cure for his melancholy, again sets out on a journey for relief in search of the picturesque. These incidents, and the parish gossip respecting them, occupy the pages of number one. The three designs represent the Doctor lamenting the loss of his wife, the funeral, and the departure; none of them well calculated for a display of the great comic or humourous talent of Rowlandson. A death-bed is too serious for a joke; and though Hamlet is a good authority for grave pleasantry, we are not very partial to that subject for jesting. The commencement of the journey- but we anticipate that these are the least laughable of the prints which we may look for in the remaining publications.

A short extract or two will illustrate the poetry; and we take them before and after the melancholy catastrophe we have stated,

After a long clouded day,
The sun broke forth with genial ray,
And mild prosperity display'd
Its welcome form in smiles array'd.
Each virtue woo'd, each duty done,
Time on swift pinions travels on,
Nor fears of future evil lour
To dim with care the present hour.
-Thus Syntax and his darling wife
No longer knew domestic strife;
And since it was their lot to bide
By Keswick's Lake's admired side,
They might have claim'd, or I'm mistaken,
With conscience clear, the flitch of bacon;
A symbol that is known to prove,
The perfect state of narried love;
And which, when thus enjoy'd, is given
As the first boon on this side heaven.
Madam, who now had nought to fret her,
of all her whims had got the better;
Among her higher neighbours, she
Receiv'd and gave the frequent tea,
And every stated feast that came
Display'd the hospitable dame;
While from the poor, in parish pride,
As in the millenery art

She ne'er was known to turn aside.

She loved to be a little smart,
The doctor, too, in better station,
Had somewhat chang'd his form and fashion;
Nay, to describe him à la lettre,
His outward show was rather better,
Than when he liv'd by pedant rule,
A curate with an humble school:
His hat had not that squeeze forlorn,
His coat was not to thread-bare worn,
And his queer wig would now unfurl
Something that might be call'd a curl:
Besides, his Dolly's pride, I ween,
Took no small pains to keep him clean.
-With cloquence and learning fraught,
He preach'd what his Great Master taught:
But no grave airs his hours molest,
Joy was the inmate of his breast,
Which, in its various forms, he found
The way to scatter all around.
Sage with the learned, with the 'Squire
He told his tale by winter's fire;
Or 'mid the pipe's surrounding smoke
To animate the social hour,
He never fail'd, with pleasant joke,

When summer forms her verdant bower,
Nor from contumelious pride,
Was his old fiddle laid aside :
Oft did its sounding strings prolong
His pencil too perform'd its duty
The jocund air and merry song.
In sketching many a landscape beauty;
Scarce rose a cot within the bound
Whose whiten'd walls did not impart
That his dominion did surround,
Some bounty of the Doctor's art.

The parents to his Rev'rence bent,
The children smiled where'r he went :
Of grateful praise the warm acclaim
Syntax was by the 'Squire caress'd
Ne'er fail'd to wait upon his name.
And oft exclaim'd, my lot how blest!

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While Madam Worthy would comuend
His Dolly as her fav'rite friend.
In short, as sister and as brother,

Their doors were open to each other.

"Twas thus four fleeting years were past. In happiness not made to last;

A month at least was gone and o'er,

But Syntax was not as before;
For thus, on serious thoughts intent,
He had not found his merriment.
He did all duties, it is true,
With the same care he used to do;
But, in his daily parish walk,
He seem'd to have forgot to talk,
Was silent where he always spoke,
And nodded where he us'd to joke.
E'en with the Ladies and the 'Squire
His thoughts had lost their wonted fire;
His tongue assum'd a lower tone,
Spoke but few words and soon had done.
Since the last sad and solemn scene,
He had not to the Vic'rage been,
But just to see th' old woman granted
All that the living creatures wanted:
For his dear Doll took great delight
In Bantam-fowl, and num'rous flight
Of chosen doves, none such were found
In all the various dove-cctes round.
The people watch'd him as he oft
Sat on the gate and look'd aloft:
They thought that a superior ken
Was given to all such learned men,
And that they saw with their keen eye,
Strange shapes and figures in the sky,
Which oft, as they believ'd, were given
To mark the destinies of heaven.
But his was no prophetic view,
As the birds in their circles flew,
He saw as his dear Doll had done,
Their plumage glist'ning in the sun;
And shar'd, in melancholy measure,
The memory of her former pleasure.

The last is rather a pleasing specimen, and we cannot do better than close with it.

Burckhardt's Nubian Travels, 4to.
(Continued.)

This interesting volume which we introduced and largely extracted from in our last Number, has since issued from the press; and, as far as our observation goes, seems to fulfil the expectations of those who looked for much intelligence from this quarter, as well as the general public, with which Burckhardt's untimely fate has in a manner consecrated his adventurous exertions in the cause of African Discovery. It comprehends all his information upon the north-eastern parts of Africa, and is the prelude to the further publication of his remarks on other countries, especially on Arabia, into which he crossed the Red Sea (at so low a latitude as from about 19° to 21°) when he left the valley of the Nile at Shendy, and crossed the river Atbara (Astabaras) and the district of Taka, * At Col. 2, Page 3, in our last,-The prece

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