little baskets, and very dear. They have
brown sugar of their own, but it is very
dirty, dark-coloured, and by no means
sweet. They seldom drink
tea; but prefer eating it by itself. They
usually take a spoonful in one hand,

sugar

with their

and eat it like little children. When we offered our guards any of the sugar which had been offered to us in presents, they always refused it with awkward reverences; but no sooner did we fall asleep, than they ate it all up by stealth.

"The Japanese, instead of pockethandkerchiefs, make use of pieces of paper. The richer class make use of a very fine kind of paper; the poor, on the contrary, use very coarse." [Our prisoners wrote on the pocket-handkerchiefs which were given

them.7

"The Japanese neither make use of spoons nor forks, but eat their victuals with two slender reeds. Food of a fluid nature they sip out of the dish, as we do tea.

The fruits, such as apples, common pears, and bergamots, were not yet perfectly ripe (in August we believe); but they suited the taste of the Japanese, who are extremely fond of acids. In the yard of our house (at Tatsmai) there was a peach tree loaded with fruit, but they plucked all the peaches before they were ripe, and ate them, occasionally giving us some. We could eat them only when they were baked; but the Japanese devoured them with a voracious appetite, either raw or baked.

"The Japanese have no looking-glasses. Their metal mirrors are, however, so exquisitely polished, that they are scarcely inferior to the finest glass."

"Wood is the only article used for building in Japan. The Japanese, however, declare that they can build with stone as well as other nations; but they are prevented from so doing on account of the violent earthquakes."

One of these happened while the Russians were at Matsmai.

Their interiors are generally splendid, the large rooms being divided by screens of paper, or wood richly gilded, carved, and adorned with landscapes, &c. like the boxes and cabinets which are imported into Europe. The floors of the great are covered with finely wrought tapestry.

The Japanese burn a fire on the hearth from morning till evening, both in winter and summer: men and women sit round the fire and smoke tobacco. The kettles are never off the fire, as tea is their common

beverage for quenching thirst; if they have no tea, they drink warm water, but never taste cold; even their sagi they like better

warm than cold.

"They neither wear boots nor shoes, but make, with plaited straw or grass, a

kind of sandals."

These are taken off on entering the apartments of the higher ranks; as were also the boots of the prisoners on

such occasions.

On one of their visits to the bunyo, or governor of the city of Matsmai, their escort also left their swords and daggers at the door of the inner court. The bunyo on entering was preceded by a person

"In an ordinary dress, who came forward, kneeled down, placed the palms of his hands on the floor, and bowed his head. The bunyo was in a common black dress, on the sleeves of which, as is the custom with all the Japanese, his armorial bearings were embroidered; he had a dagger at his girdle, and his sabre was carried by one of his suite; he held the weapon near the extremity with the handle upward; but a cloth was wrapped round the part which he grasped, to prevent his naked hand from coming in contact with it.

trust that, added to our general intelli.
gence from other sources, in Germany,
France, Italy, and the northern coun-
tries of Europe, we shall thus be en-
abled to supply our readers with as
ample accounts of contemporary foreign
literature as their curiosity or taste
require.

ANALYSIS OF THE JOURNAL DES SAVANS FOR
NOVEMBER, 1817.

Art. I. Lord Holland's Lives and Writings
of Lopez de Vega, and Guillende Castro,
reviewed by M. Raynouard.

(First Extract.)

Lopez de Vega enjoyed during his life such a great and extensive reputation, that he cannot be compared in this respect with any modern author. Yet notwithstanding Playing at cards and draughts are very the enthusiastic admiration felt for him common amusements among the Japanese. and his works by the Spaniards, they have They are fond of playing for money, and not handed down to us those details which will stake their last piece upon a game. are so precious in the eyes of succeeding They were taught to play at cards by the generations; who, while enjoying the Dutch sailors, who were allowed free inter- works of a great author, are eager to be course with the inhabitants, and in Nanga-informed respecting his private life and sak were permitted to visit taverns, and character. Perhaps the enthusiasm of his women of a certain character; who in contemporaries led them to imagine that it Japan carry on their trade of prostitution was neither necessary nor possible to add under the protection of the laws. The to the esteem of the public by such details. cards were at first known to the Japanese The greater part of his works has never by their European names, and there were been printed, and what has been printed fifty-two in a pack. Owing, however, to has never been united in a complete colthe pecuniary losses, and fatal disputes to lection. It was not till 1776 that the which card-playing gave rise, that amuse- Spaniards proposed to publish by subscripment was strictly prohibited in Japan. In tion a collection of the select works of order to evade the law, the Japanese in- Lopez in 21 volumes in 4to. and these do vented a pack of forty-eight cards, which not contain his theatrical works. are much smaller than ours, and which are editor had promised a biographical memoir, generally used. Their game at draughts is and an historical and critical catalogue of extremely complicated and difficult. They the author's productions, but it seems that make use of a very large draughtboard and he has not redeemed his pledge. 400 men, which they move about in many different directions, and which are liable to be taken in various ways."

The Russian sailors taught them the European game, which speedily became general.

We must here close our remarks for the present, reserving for our next number the extracts which develope the state of learning, the division of time, the punishments, the commerce, and the opinions of this retired and singular people.

The

A part of this debt of the Spanish nation has been paid by Lord Holland, in the first part of the present work. The success of the first edition, published some years ago, has induced the author in this new edition, to insert a similar essay on the Life and Writings of Guillen de Castro. But as the first part has been so long before the British public, and M. Raynouard reserves his remarks on the second part for another article, we shall be very brief. We cannot but observe with pleasure the justice which the French critic does to the noble author. He seems to think that Lord Holland has in two or three places not quite done justice to Lopez. Though his Lordship calls the "Jerusalem Conquistada," the weakest of FOREIGN LITERATURE. Lopez's works, and that which has been the No publication is so well calculated least successful; yet, says M. R. this imto afford an accurate view of the high-portant poem, which has gone through est branches of Foreign Literature, as several editions, merited perhaps more dethe Journal des Savans, and we now tails from the judicious writer, who emproceed to execute a purpose we an- ploys his talents to determine the title of nounced some time ago, of laying be- Lopez to the esteem of posterity. fore the British public a careful analysis and notice of its contents. This plan we shall continue from time to time, as the subject matter requires, and we

M. R. examines the extract given by Lord H. of the tragedy of Estrella de Sevilla. But his lordship ought to have particularly noticed the genius which the poet has shewn in the scene between Sancho

This work, which fills up a chasm in the literary history of Spain, (thus M. R. concludes) is distinguished by an ingenious sagacity, a pure taste, opinions judiciously supported, and a concise and animated narration. Lord Holland has done very well what he intended to do; but the subject which he has treated is capable of great developement; and I think that either he himself, or a writer of his abilities, would compose a work more useful, and fully as interesting, by executing the task which the Spanish editor had imposed upon himself, that of giving a catalogue raisonné of all the works of Lopez de Vega, which have come down to us. The analysis of the different compositions, classified and examined in a systematic order,-the quotation of the finest passages,-the indication of the principal imitations, distinct judgments, with the grounds of them, in every branch of the merit of this celebrated writer, would be at once a most useful collection for the literati of all countries, and a real monument to the glory of the Spanish

graphy, the Platonic philosophy and the
sects derived from it, and ecclesiastical an-
tiquities and history, were the chief objects
of his meditations and researches. As a skil-

cuted this great enterprise, it is lamentable to think that a plan so well conceived, and so admirably commenced, was never carried into effect. It has since been partly executed by Hudson, but on a more limited plan, and with inferior and less various knowledge than was shewn by the original projector. In our own times, a learned German, Mr. Bredow, resuming the labours of Holstenius, whose letter he published, undertook to supply the deficiencies, and correct the errors which Hudson left in his collection. But death interrupted Mr. Bredow's researches, and it is doubtful whether the fruits of his labours can be given to the public.

and Tabera, where the former, having been | insidiously led by the king to engage to assassinate the latter, the brother of his mistress Estrella, provokes Tabera to a duel, by contemptuously refusing the handful Hellenist, an elegant and pure Latinist, of his sister, in order that in obeying the a profound theologian, and a connoisseur king's order, he may act like a brave man, versed in the knowledge of the monuments and not a cowardly assassin. of the arts, he might have acquired, in so many various ways, a brilliant reputation. Yet the number of his publications does not answer to the prodigious extent of his knowledge, nor does even the quality of his works seem equal to the idea of the merit ascribed to their author. Except his Commentary on Stephen of Byzantium, and his notes on Culvier's Italy, we have hardly any performance of his but de- Similar sentiments of esteem and regret tached pieces; which, though we always are excited by several other parts of the recognize in them the profound learning of correspondence with Peirese. The Platonic the author, cannot be considered as any philosophy appears to have been a princithing more than the relaxations of his la-pal and favourite object of his researches. borious pen. The 37th letter, addressed to Peirese, conThis want of proportion between the great tains much curious information on this variety of knowledge possessed by Holste- subject, and concludes with an Index of nius, and the small number of his works, Platonic Philosophers, copied, illustrated, which seems still more striking in a life and corrected with his own hand, of which always employed in literary labours, and he proposed to give an ample and accurate extended to a considerable length, (he died edition. In other letters, and particularly in 1661, aged 65,) is a problem which the in the 108th, (to Peirese) he gives an acperusal of his letters will partly solve. We count of another work on which he was see him in the whole correspondence ge- engaged, and for which his situation furnerally directing his studies to the three nished him with the most ample materials, principal subjects above mentioned, but namely, a body of Ecclesiastical Annals, frequently digressing to innumberless other infinitely more exact and complete than objects unconnected with them: hurried, any that had yet been published, and enby the vivacity of his imagination, from one tirely composed of original authors. It is work scarcely sketched out, to another of evident from other letters, that his zeal in a different kind; and forced, in short, by prosecuting this work continued to grow the almost infinite variety of his knowledge, more ardent as he procured new informaand by the inexhaustible plasticity of his tion. The loss of so many materials, colcharacter, to apply at the same time to dif-lected with such labour, is one of the most ferent researches to satisfy his own curiosity severe which literature sustained by his and that of his correspondents. What must death. have especially caused a great loss of time, was the looking for and collating MSS. both for himself and to assist the labours of his friends; for which he spared neither time, labour, nor expense. It may be observed, that this noble generosity of Holstenius, sacrificing every thing in the search for truth, and neglecting the care of his own reputation to promote the fame of his friends, was the peculiar characteristic of the men of letters of that day; and that it is to their pure and disinterested zeal for the increase of knowledge, that we perhaps owe the most useful improvements which have been made up to our time.

author.

Art. II. The Olympian Jupiter, &c. By

M. Quatremere de Quincy. It being our intention to give a particular account of this splendid and important work, we pass it over here, and proceed to Art. III. L. Holstenii Epistolæ ad diversos, quas ex editis et ineditis codicibus collegit atque illustravit Jo. Fr. Boissonade, &c. Paris 1817, 8vo.

Though Holstenius was one of the most active and laborious of the literati of the 17th century, he is the one who has left the fewest monuments of his erudition and industry. Being settled at Rome, amidst the literary treasures accumulated in that capital of the world; honoured with the protection and friendship of Cardinal Barberini, one of the greatest personages of that court and age; entrusted first by this cardinal with the care of his library, and in the pontificate of Innocent X. placed at the head of the Vatican Library; connected by the ties of friendship with all the learned men in Europe, and particularly with the erudite and respectable Peirese; Holstenius possessed every advantage necessary to acquire a great reputation in his lifetime, and to transmit his name with honour to posterity by his writing. In fact we see him engaged at once in numerous works, which by the different turn of mind they require in those who apply to them, seem to exclude each other, or at least difficult to be reconciled together. Almost the whole field of sacred and profane history was open to him. But three principal studies, namely, ancient and modern geo

We cannot but regret that so many useful enterprises, begun and prosecuted by him with so much application and ability, are now lost to letters, and to the honour of his memory. In reading in the 10th letter, addressed to Peirese, the sketch of a plan for the Collection of the Greek Geographers, the detail of the authors who were to form a part of it, an account of the notes and illustrations of every kind which he proposed to add to it, we admire the profound erudition of the author; and when we see in the following letters to the same Peirese, with what ardour he prose

We should willingly dwell longer on this interesting collection, but we have said enough to shew the importance of it; and as an additional inducement to our learned readers, who cannot be supposed to be unacquainted with the labours of Holstenius, we add, that though many of these letters have appeared before, viz. those to the celebrated Italian antiquarian Doni, (written chiefly in Italian,) those to Nicolas Heinsius, to Lambecius the author's nephew, to Meursius, and to P. Sirmond, yet the most important part, that which bears the name of Peirese, is entirely new. Holstenius, honoured with the friendship, and loaded with the favours of that enlightened patron of learning, seems to take pleasure in entering into the most familiar and minute details respecting his character, his labours, and his projects of every kind. He frequently takes occasion to illustrate facts relative to the literary, political, and ecclesiastical history of those times.

"I cannot conclude this article," says M. Raoul Rochette, "without paying a just tribute of acknowledgment to the vast erudition and sound judgment displayed by Mr. Boissonade in his notes to the letters of Holstenius. Nothing that could tend to

illustrate the text of his author has been
neglected or omitted; and yet such is the
exquisite taste and the sane sobriety of
learning, which has directed this part of his
work, that useful explanations alone have
seemed necessary to him; and his notes,
full of facts, and always concise, add but
very little to the bulk of this edition. To
have their merit appreciated, it is sufficient
to say that I have not found the accuracy
of M. Boissonade to fail in any particular,
and that I have never been stopped on any
point, in the reading of Holstenius, at least
by the fault of his editor."

ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

occasions.

EPITAPHS.

a

66

the children of the virtuous poor man read
on his tomb-stone the epitome of his worth;
and what a lesson would the offspring of
different character receive, from the
stigmatized," even in death! But enough
-more than enough from me on this sub-
ject. I subjoin a few Epitaphs, brought
to me by some of the members of a youth-
ful group who were with me when your bur-
lesques were read; and by whom, though
myself far advanced in my pilgrimage, I
love to be surrounded. "Let us collect
a paper of Epitaphs," I said to them, to
shew that this order of writing is not with-
out its beauty. But I have already in-
truded too long: however, there is always
allowance to be made for the garrulity of
AN OLD WOMAN.

Epitaph from the Greek.
Pillars of death! cary'd syrens' tearful urns!
In whose sad keeping my poor dust is laid,
To him that near my tomb his footsteps turns,
Rests in her bloom below; her Sire the name
Stranger or Greek, bid hail! and say, a maid
And say her bosom friend Erinna came,
Of Myrtis gave; her birth and lineage high:
And on the marble graved her elegy.

From the Modern Greek.
On a Tomb in the Island of Zante.
The Maid who in this grave is sleeping,
Has left her young companions weeping;
And thoughts of her have plunged in sadness
Hearts to whom they once gave gladness!
Lovely in form-in mind excelling-
A spirit pure in heavenly dwelling.
She died and we again shall never
See one like her-now lost for ever!
From the Welsh.

In a Church-yard in Northumberland.

The world has long since wearied me,
And now, my appointed task is done,
Parting it without enmity,

I'll take my staff, and journey on.
On a Tomb-stone in an Irish Country
Church-yard.

A little Spirit slumbers here,
Who to one heart was very dear.
Oh! he was more than life or light,
Its thought by day-its dream by night!
The chill winds came-the young flower faded,
And died;-the grave its sweetness shaded.
Fair Boy! thou should'st have wept for me,
Nor I have had to mourn o'er thee:
Yet not long shall this sorrowing be.-
Those roses I have planted round,
To deck thy dear sad sacred ground,
When spring-gales next those roses wave,
They'll blush upon thy mother's grave.
Epitaph on Himself,

BY THE CHEVALIER BOUFFLERS.

Ci git un Chevalier, qui sans cesse courut,
Qui, sur les grands chemins naquit, vecut, mourut.
Pour prouver ce qu'a dit le sage,
Que notre vie est un voyage.

TRANSLATION.

Here slumbers one, who rest till now ne'er tried;
Born on the great road-there he lived and died,
More to prove the wisdom of the sage,
Who said that life was but a pilgrimage.
From the French, in the Burying-ground
of Mont-Louis, in Paris.

Mother-sweet Mother, thou canst never know
That yearly thus I deck thy mossy bed
With the first roses of the Spring that blow,
And tears of fond affection shed.

The grave of a beautiful warrior, by whose hand Mother-sweet Mother, tho' I knew thee not,
Fell many a combatant,

From the same.
To whom belongs the square grave,

To the Editor of the Literary Gazette. SIR,-IN one of your late very entertaining Numbers, was a collection of burlesque Epitaphs, such as I have often grieved to sce disgracing our prominent church-yards. This paper brought to my recollection an idea which has more than once occurred to me, that a little volume of original and selected poetry of this class, would not be uninteresting, and might serve to introduce a better taste than that generally displayed by the parish-clerk or stone-mason on these I have always been fond of visiting village burying-grounds. I acquired this inclination before I can remember how; but I do not forget how often in youth have a few appropriate and tolerably written lines, produced in my mind that feeling, "pleasing yet mournful," whose impression faded not with the last view of the sacred and simple dwelling of the rustic dead. How often have I seen the mirth of a giddy party, which was excited Ere he became silent. by some stranger" lame of a foot," sudBeneath this stone, denly melted into tearfulness and sensi-Is in the vale of Cain. Llachan, the son of Rhun, bility by an unadorned, unaffected sketch of the short and simple annals of the poor!"-and for these emotions the heart is the better, the heart which every circumstance of life seems to harden-every circumstance of death to ameliorate. A well epitaphed church-yard might have no small influence on the mind of the neighbouring peasantry. The Burging-ground is the lounge of the idlers-the rendezvous of the lovers-the scene of the meditations of the thoughtful-and the assemblage place for the gossips of the village. It would not be a difficult task to convert it into a species of rustic mental school. Yet a step further :-Would not the church-Inscription on a Stone in the English Buryyard be turned into a "biographical library" for the lower orders, were each deceased's exact character to be engraven on the stone which covers his virtues or vices? Might not a strong feeling of emulation be excited? This could be arranged by the clergyman of the parish. We are none of us indifferent to the regards of posterity. "Victory or Westminster Abbey !" was the battle-shout of one of our greatest heroes. This "love of fame"-this" universal passion," pervades all human minds, in a more or less degree. With what pride would

With the four stately stones at its corners?
It is the tomb of Madoc-THE FIERCE Knight.
From the same.

He whose grave is on this cliff,
His hand was the foe of many;
His name shall sleep in peace.
Mercy be to him!

From the French.
On a Tomb-stone in Auvergne.
Marie was the only child of her mother,
"And she was a widow."
Marie sleeps in this grave-
And the widow has now no child.

ing-ground at Bourdeaux.

There was a sweet and nameless grace,
That wander'd o'er her lovely face;
And from her pensive eye of blue,
Was magic in the glance which flew.
Her hair of soft and gloomy shade,
In rich luxuriance curling stray'd;
But when she spoke, or when she sung,
Enchantment on her accents hung.
Where is she now ?-where all must be--
Sunk in the grave's obscurity.
Yet never-never slumber'd there
A mind more pure-a form more fair!

I feel that one I love is buried here;
And tho' this grave by others is forgot,

To me it shall thro' life be dear-most dear.

It seems that the pretended working of miracles, and the belief in that power, is of ancient date in Sweden. The first, and likewise very remarkable sign of it, is the vision of Charles XI. which is said to have revealed to him the melancholy fate of his sixth successor; whether an imposture or not, it certainly long preceded the event foretold. I have read the Protocol in the Swedish language, which was drawn up under the reign of that king (who by no means passes for a visionary) respecting the remarkable apparition of which he is said to have been a witness. After having been for a long time known by a few persons, this document, which is very singular in its kind, caused a particular sensation at the commencement of the present government. The young monarch, who was inclined to melancholy ideas, thinking himself born under an unhappy constella tion, has fancied that he saw in this vision

Image of beauty-breathing stone,
Here shrined so lovely, and so lone!
Comes he not here from broken sleep,
To weep as hearts alone can weep?
Thy spell is on me too-my eye

s caught, fix'd, fill'd, unconscious why:
'Tis not thy soft yet stately brow,
Sweet, stooping eyelid, hair's rich flow;
'Tis woe's deep grace that seems to wind
O'er all-the relique of thy mind.
What tears have flow'd o'er many a tale
Of gentler woe in life's low vale!
And to this end the mighty come-
To anguish, exile, and the tomb!
But the dark heart that sent thee there,
If there's revenge in earth, we swear,
Shall drop with blood for every tear;
For that, from Empire, mankind, driven,
As sure as there's a Power in Heaven,,
That crime's not made to be forgiven!

BALLAD.

TRISSINO.

THE Minstrel came from beyond the sea,
And weary with his toil was he;
But wearied more, that in one long year
No news of his lady he could hear.
By land and sea he had wander'd far,
With Hope alone for a guiding star;
Yet had he been so tempest tost,
That oft the guiding star was lost.
Safe from the land, safe from the main,
Again he has reached his native Spain;
And he feels of its sun the blessed glow,
And inhales new life, as its breezes blow.
Yet he will not stop, nor he will not stay,
But onward goes, by night and by day;
Till at length he has reach'd that fateful spot,
Ne'er from the parting hour forgot.
There-and he dare no farther go
To seek what he dies, yet dreads, to know;
And he lingers till the moonlight hour,
When that lady lov'd to sing in her bower.
Oh! will this dazzling sun ne'er fade,
This sky ne'er soften into shade;
Longer than all that came before,
Will never this joyless day be o'er!
Faded, at last the sun's red ray
Softened the sky to cloudless gray;
The longest noon must have its night,-
And o'er the bower the moon rose bright.
Roses are wavering in its beam,
As thro' their foliage zephyrs stream;
Perfumes are floating on the air,
But no sweet song is singing there.
He listens-listens-but in vain,
From that low bower there breathes no strain :
"Yet may she come"-for Hope will stay,
Even till her last star fades away.
"Yet may she come"-no more-no more,—
The dreamings of thy heart be o'er :
Who slumbers the long sleep of rest,
Is dull to the voice she once lov'd best.
A ray within the green bower shone,
It danced upon a funeral stone;
There sculptured was a well-known name,
The name most dear-the same-the same!
That night, and o'er lost hope he mourn'd;
But ere again the hour return'd,
Had parted from his native shore

An exile-to return no more.

Yet, as he left that bower of woe,
That all of his constancy might know,
A ringlet of hair on that grave he bound,"
A chain of gold round that pillar he wound.

ISABEL D.

BIOGRAPHY.

9

mina, or the Pedant's Marriage" which was for the most part founded on real events, and was caused by a wager with MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF M. Von Bose, Aulic-counsellor of Coburg, MAURICE AUGUSTUS VON THUMMEL. a very well-informed man, who considered THIS highly-esteemed and elegant writer Poetic-Prose, so much in vogue with the died at Coburg, where he had for some time resided, on the 26th of October, in French and Italians, to be a nonentity, as it has always been held before the strict his 80th year, of utter debility, consequent on his advanced age. A week or two be- tribunal of criticism. This little work has been translated into almost all the languafore his death, the Anacreontic old man sent for a little Rhenish wine, a hundred ges of civilized Europe; and has been the years old, from his cellar at Gotha, which innocent parent of a countless progeny. Nothanker." Nobody ought to judge of he expressly destined as a tribute to the Nicolai span it out into his "Sebaldus Good Genius, as soon as he should per-it without having read and weighed the ceive his welcome approach.

war.

army

the

many years.

He was born on the 27th of May, 1738, author's preface in the first edition. It is very essence of the finest ton of polishat Schönefeld, close to Leipsig, and was the second son of Mr. Von Thümmel, ed society, with only as much license in it was now silent for Thümmel's muse Counsellor of the Chamber of Finances of as the Menandrian Comedy allows. the Province. His father, a very wealthy He never wrote for the sake man, lost almost the whole of his property 66 His Inoculation of abomination to him. by a succession of misfortunes. The fa- of writing, and book-making was always an mily estate too (Schönefeld) was entirely pil- Love" he called himself a social joke, and laged on the irruption of the Prussian From the year 1783 he within 1745, shortly before the battle of Kes- estimated it as no more than an ephemeral selsdorf, and passed into the hands of production. strangers. At the Conventual-School of drew from all business, and passed his life Rossleben, he received the rudiments of in cheerful retirement, partly at Gotha, education, and was initiated in the writings and partly at the estate of Sonnenborn, He had a brother, with whom of the classical authors of antiquity; and near Gotha, at the foot of the forest of was then received by Gottsched, at that Thuringia. he lived in the strictest intimacy. This amiable young time Rector of the University of Leipsig, brother had married a very and rich widow, who had inherited from among the students of the high school in that city, in the midst of the seven-years her husband, a M. Von Wangenhùm, two Gillert was his principal teacher; Rorac and Claverblad. The country-house Rabiner and Weisse contracted an intimate great sugar plantations in Surinam, called friendship with the high-spirited youth, of Sonnenborn (this estate had belonged to who possessed an ample flow of wit: and, M. Von Wangenhùm) became the seat of by means of Weisse, he became acquaint- taste and the most refined learning. The ed with Kleist,* who was at that time at family often resided at Paris. From this Leipsic, on some military business for city the two brothers, in company with the Frederick II. He remained closely connected with Weisse till the death of the accomplished wife of the younger, made a latter. He dedicated to him his "Ino-tour through France, which they traversed culation of Love;" he wrote to him on all poems his journeys; and some of his minor owe their origin to a friendly contest with Weisse, with whose dramatic muse Thümmel, whose taste was more refined than that of the age, was not always satisfied. Thümmel was early a favourite of the Graces, and his conversation afforded an exhaustless fund of wit, and the most cheerful humour. An old bachelor, of the name of Balz, who had been Justiciary at Schönefeld, and intimate with the family, made him, 20 years later, heir to his whole property of 20,000 dollars (40007.) In the year 1761, he came to the court of Coburg, and soon attained the highest offices of state under Duke Ernest Frederick of Saxe Coburg. Already in 1768 he was privy counsellor and minister. The intrigues and amusements of the little court,

in

every direction, and part of Italy, from 1775 to 1778. Though Thümmel, the poet, travelled at a later period through vived ancient recollections, yet this first many provinces of France, and gladly retour was the sole source of that work, by species of writing) in German Literawhich he stands without a rival (in that ture. The esteem which he and his sisterin-law conceived for each other, during this tour, greatly increased; when, being deprived of her whole property by unfortunate events, and too expensive a mode of name of the Rich Dutch Woman), she living (she was long known in Paris by the bore the change in her circumstances with fortitude, and gained her livelihood at Tours, a provincial town of France, by needle-work and embroidery. This induced the poet, when his younger brother died prematurely, to give his hand to this This marriage, which was of which he himself was often the soul, aflady in 1779. forded abundant materials to his propen-blessed with children, was, according to sity for the comic. Thus arose, in the first Thümmel's repeated declarations, a heaven years of his residence at the court of Coon earth to him. The greater was his afburg, his comic-epic in prose, "Whilhel-fiction when his amiable and accomplished

*Author of a poem called "The Spring," and partner was snatched from him, in the latter end of 1799. She had fully shared

other works of merit.