Imágenes de página

Who, when my tooth begins to ache,
And keeps my anxious eye awake,
Bids me refreshing sleep to take?
A yard of flannel.

Who, when my ear is chill'd with cold,
And her accustom'd sound withhold,
So kindly lends her fleecy fold?

A yard of flannel.

Who, when my throat is stiff and sore,
Does perspiration's reign restore,
And save from quinsy's threat'ning power?
A yard of flannel.

Do you desire to find a friend,

Where warmth and softness gently blend?
Then I would beg to recommend

A yard of flannel."

Conclusion of a speech attributed by Lord Erskine to Lord Viscount Stafford:

"The evidence against me, my lords, is so vague, so contradictory, and so confused, that if an angel from heaven were to appear at your lordships' bar, and to attest its truth, you would say he was a fallen angel, and that he would return no more to the sphere from whence he had descended."

ON WALTER SCOTT'S POEM ENTITLED “THE FIELD OF WATERLOO." "How prostrate lie the heaps of slain On Waterloo's immortal plain;

But none by sabre or by shot

Fell half so flat as Walter Scott."


"These spurs Napoleon left behind,
Flying swifter than the wind;

Useless to him if buckled on,

Needing no spur but Wellington."


"Whoever finds, and don't forsake me,

Shall have naught in way of gains;
But let him to my mistress take me,
And he shall SEE HER for his pains."

Translation of a Portuguese song, sent under cover to Lady Blessington:

"Know'st thou the land where citrons scent the gale,
Where glows the orange in the golden vale,
Where softer breezes fan the azure skies,

Where myrtles spring, and prouder laurels rise

Know'st thou the land? 'Tis where our footsteps bend,
And there, my love, and there, my love, and there

Our course shall end.

Know'st thou the pile the colonnade sustains,
Its splendid chambers, and its rich domains,
Where breathing statues stand in bright array,
And seem, 'What ails thee, helpless maid?' to say-
Know'st thou the land? 'Tis where our footsteps bend,
And there, my love, and there, my love, and there

Our course shall end.

Know'st thou the mount were clouds obscure the day,
Where scarce the mule can trace his misty way,
Where lurks the dragon and his scaly brood,
And broken rocks oppose the headlong flood-
Know'st thou the land? "Tis there our course shall end;
There lies our way, there lies our way, and thither

Let our footsteps bend."

Letter from B. Cochrane, Esq.:

"May, 1849. "MY DEAR LADY BLESSINGTON,-It is so idle to tell you what you so well know, that you have left a vacancy here which can never be filled up. It makes me quite sad to know that your absence is for a lengthened period, as I can assure you that it calls forth one common expression of sorrow from all your friends, that is, from all who had the honor and delight of your acquaintance. I quite concur in all you say respecting M—; he is a most admirable and honorable man; but, alas! it is, in these days, in political as in naval matters, the ship that can tack and veer is ever the most valued.

"Yours ever truly,



Letters from HR, Esq., to Lady Blessington:

"Rue de la Paix, Paris, 13th October, 1840.

"I have been here an anxious spectator of the perils which menace this fleet vessel of France, with its gibbering crew and queer pilots. The wind has caught the chaff once more, and it whirls it upward. Another breath

may fan the spark to flames. Sparks, did I say! they are no sparks; they are the unextinguished embers of that great funeral pile of the monarchy and aristocracy of France, which has been burning and smouldering for fifty years.

"Ah, no! if I write to you, let me rather talk to you of the sunshine, the leisure, the scenery, the peasantry, the fruit, the billows of the South. From Bordeaux to Marseilles we traveled along the valley of the Garonne, the plains of Languedoc, the shores of the Mediterranean. I reveled in the beauty of the country, the exuberant fertility of the land, the enchanting clearness of the sky. In Provence I visited the coast of Hyeres, with its woods of orangetrees and palms, and I made a solitary pilgrimage to Vaucluse. "Ever most faithfully yours,

H. R."

"13th June, 1842.

"Your directions, many weeks ago, to ask me for a few lines to some fair lady's eyebrow, in the Book of Beauty,' I have left unfulfilled, and, what is worse, the note unanswered, for I did not quite like to confess to myself, much less to another, that I was grown so dull and old (a Benedict!) that rhymes for me have ceased to flow.

"Prose, my dear Lady Blessington, prose is the true language of happiness; poetry the language of the want of it. Prose pays the rent and the butcher; poetry starves the poet, and, still more, his wife and children. In short, I have only to assure you that I tried hard to write something, found I could not, and then perceived that the beadle must have whipped away all poetical ideas, which I only regret, inasmuch as it makes me very useless and uncivil. H. R."

"2d February, 1843.

"In my position, I have at least more aptitude to share in the griefs of my friends than those who are not stricken from the herd. And I most deeply feel for you in the loss you and your nieces have sustained. That child had in her such gifts of affection, and such a clear, active spirit, that even her natural infirmities seemed to be those of a superior being. But she was of those whose maturity must needs be elsewhere, where alone are the best hearts and truest souls. H. R."

"April 28th, 1849.

"I chanced to be absent from London for some little time previous to your departure, and, indeed, a few days earlier we might have gone to Paris; but I hope you will allow me the privilege of an old and grateful friend in expressing to you my sincere and lasting regret for the loss we all sustain by your removal. London is, I believe, the place in the world in which we are least given to express what we feel; and a thousand circumstances and impediments are forever occurring to make us appear much more dull and miserable than we really are.

"Yet I believe no acts of kindness or recollections of pleasant hours are lost in that deep and turbid water; and, for my own part, as I wander onward on my solitary way, I have a thousand emotions connected with the past, which revolve though they seldom exhale. Among how many of those remembrances, dear Lady Blessington, do your kindness and hospitalities keep their place! Our lives are like those hollow Chinese balls, which they carve one within another, each including all that preceded it, and of these the clearest and most ornamental is marked 'Gore House.'

"In after times that house will have its place in literary and social history, and I am afraid, in our time, we shall not see its fellow until you come back H. R."

to us.

Letter from Richard M. Milnes, Esq., to Lady Blessington:

"September 12th.

"DEAR LADY BLESSINGTON,-I don't know Monsieur Louis Blanc, nor sympathize with his opinions; but having seen him in the Assembly on the 15th of May, and having carefully read the enquete, I am convinced in my own mind that the act of the Assembly was a surprise to him, and that his manner when in the Assembly was deprecatory, and not discouraging. I thought, certainly, he seemed to desire to get them away. I remain yours very truly, "RICHARD M. MILNES."



Letter to Lady Blessington, endorsed by her ladyship, "A curious communication from a Mr. J, relative to a mysterious occurrence :"

"Brussels, 26th October, 1835.

"MY LADY,—An utter stranger to you, I find it very difficult to apologize for the liberty I am taking; but your ladyship has seen much of life, and you possess great talent; the latter consideration influences me to address you on a very extraordinary subject, sure you will help me to find out the object of my search.

"Thirteen years ago, I was asked by a very old friend (an apothecary) if I would undertake an accouchement under very extraordinary conditions. I consented. In a few days I was requested to be at the corner of Downing Street, at ten o'clock in the evening, and a pledge of honor was exacted that I should never disclose the affair I had undertaken, or make any effort to find out the parties interested; and that, if accident ever revealed them to my knowledge, I should never disclose the facts or names to any one; to all this I consented, and made no terms of any kind for myself, leaving the remunera

tion to the parties. On the night named I was at my post, and my old friend, Mr. Lee, saw me into a carriage, the blinds of which were up, and not a ray of light entered the space in which I was. How far we traveled I am totally unconscious, as I fell asleep. I was awoke by the door of the carriage being opened at a gate which to all appearance led into a shrubbery; from this my conductor, who was the man that drove the coach, and who had very much the appearance of Mr. Lee, conducted me across a kitchen garden, and thence into a small house; here I was detained about twenty minutes; from thence I was taken a few steps to a large house, and ushered by the coachman or driver into a very large room. A female soon appeared, who told me, as my services would not be required probably for a day or two, I had better take some refreshment and repose: a bed was prepared, and I availed myself of it. How long I slept I know not, but I got up when tired of bed, and in a short time breakfast was announced. The windows of the rooms I occupied were never opened; books were provided me. From the luxurious appearance of every thing about me, I had no doubt that I was in one of the firstrate houses in the country. Three days must have passed in this way. On the 21st of March I was called from my bed, and followed the same female, who attended me into a very splendid apartment, where I found my patient and two other persons, females; there was but one lamp in the room, and that at a considerable distance from the bed. I soon found that the labor would be a natural one, and that the mother was in perfect health, and I should think about from twenty to twenty-eight years of age. She never spoke or uttered a sound of any kind; in a few hours a female child was born. I gave the proper directions as to her treatment, and quitted the room. I remained four days more, seeing my patient twice every day. I never spoke to any but the female who attended me, who certainly was not accustomed to that kind of service.

"I was on the fifth night taken to Downing Street, where I arrived at about five o'clock in the morning. I went home, where I found Mr. Lee awaiting my arrival. He said I had conducted myself entirely to the satisfaction of the parties, and was charged to present me with £100, for which he gave me his check. Of course, I asked no questions; he had no occasion to ask me any, I am sure. A few weeks after, he asked me if I would take charge of the child I had introduced into the world; he would undertake to make the charge advantageous. I consented, provided I was secured against loss, and to have the entire control as a father. The infant was delivered into my hands, and the sum of £100 per annum settled to be paid six-monthly until it was ten years of age; then she was to be allowed £200 per annum. Things went on very regularly for four years, when I was requested to take the child to Richmond to be christened; this I could not comply with, so it was agreed that she should be taken to St. George's, Hanover Square, where she was baptized Frances D'E, daughter of Colonel and Lady D'E. The persons who undertook this office I had never seen before, and we parted at the

« AnteriorContinuar »