been passed on to the world as a fresh trait | ble with a respectful habit of mind. Our of character-which has added to the grow- friend is in a hurry to tell us that our judging barrier which daily rises between the ment is worth nothing, that our expression man and his species. Not that we can cut of it must be stopped, that we, or something him-we do not even wish to do so. All the about us, must be put down. As we think ceremonies of friendly intercourse continue over the matter, the examples that first octo pass between us; there is no reason they cur come from contemptuous minds-men should ever be left off. But at every en- without deference, who are accustomed to counter he gets shoved farther and farther lean upon themselves, who do not expect to away from our secrets. One by one he loses find much in other people. We do not find the key to the hearts of his friends, who them appealing to others, or wishing to know stand on the defensive, keep watch, shut their thoughts, or willing to follow out their themselves up in his presence with instinct- speculations, or listening to their suggesive caution, till we doubt not he often in his tions. They live and think alone, impatient inner heart wonders at his own isolation. of interference and interruption, and nourish For our part we are sincerely sorry for him; some notion of themselves which practically, and we are so conscious besides that men though it may not take the form of vulgar may have the habit without knowing it, that arrogance and vanity, sets them above the we would offer one general counsel-never possibility of benefit from the crude, ununder any temptation to practise a talent for formed, untaught intelligences around them. setting down on people worth caring for. Indeed, it is their impatience of other men's Risk a good deal, take a circuitous route, ideas and conclusions which leads them to leave good advice unsaid, or said in less commit themselves. And it is to be obtrenchant telling fashion, bear irritations, served that such men never do see others at nuisances, what not, rather than inflict any their best. A person of ordinary modesty, sudden wound on your friend's self-love. Do not gifted with self-reliance, not confident of not put him on your behalf on the duty of his position, cannot show himself to advanChristian forgiveness. Allow him to rest in tage under such circumstances; and thus some ignorance of your opinion, even though men are encouraged in their self-esteem by he may believe it more to his advantage the consequences of their own ungraciousthan it happens to be. Submit to be incom-ness. Nobody is quite himself before them plete; sacrifice the pleasure of being sharp unless he is also past the possibility of an and acute at his expense; for it is very certain that he will not like you the better, and very unlikely also that he should himself be the better, for your having made him feel like, and perhaps look like, a fool. If he is often put under the apprehension of it, the least that can be expected of him is, that he will eschew your confidence, and carefully keep on the windy side of intimacy. Here lies the secret of so many charges of ingratitude of benefits forgotten, of unrequited, unvalued sacrifices. Not that a few, or even a series, of ill-considered, unpalatable words ought to counterbalance real services, but that they put human nature to a strain which too severely tests its weak points. And there is this to be said that contempt, of all things the hardest to bear, is, if we go to the bottom of it, the motive force of most snubs. The practice is certainly incompati

open show of contempt, though even this immunity depends on the rank of the snubber. The Duke of Wellington could tell an earl, his colleague, "You are over-educated for your intellect ;" and when wit and learning were rank, Warburton and Swift could and did snub all the world. If our remarks lack the pungency of appropriate illustration, it is not because apt examples do not crowd upon us. We could fill columns with them

the collegiate, the social, the domesticall of them very much to the purpose, and some very amusing; but, as we have said, these are just the things people never forget. Disguise them as we would, they would be traced to their right source, and the sanctities of private life must be respected, though our disquisition lose half its value and all its liveliness by the sacrifice.

Private Correspondence of Thomas Raikes with the Duke of Wellington and other distinguished Contemporaries. Edited by his Daughter, Harriet Raikes. Bentley withstanding-altogether, what he calls him

THIS correspondence presents itself under self, a poor "exiled, disconsolate devil." two aspects, the one almost entirely social, All the rest of Mr. Raikes' correspondents the other wholly political. The select friends are still in full feather, and wherever he is of Mr. Raikes, the leaders of the fashionable they keep him au courant of what is going clique known as "The Dandies,"-contrib- on. Here, to begin with, is something new ute to the former ;-the Duke of Wellington respecting the circumstances attendant on and his private secretary, Mr. Greville, for the death of the Princess Charlotte of Wales. the most part supply the latter. From these The writer is Colonel Cooke, who says :two sources are derived both amusement and

I

to accost a friend of his to whom he owed | ralysis rather, had done the usual work, money lost in the West Indies," By the and Mr. Raikes found him in Paris, fast by, C, I owe you forty joes!" a con- sinking into the grave. He describes his fession which he kept up to his dying day. death in a letter to the Duke of WellingLord Yarmouth (the late Marquis of Hert- ton:ford) requests Mr. Raikes to "undertake a most perilous adventure," one in which, he hopes, his friend will feel with bowels of compassion for his forlorn state. "My prayer is, that you will look out, if possible, for what is called a valet de chambre cuisinier, a good patissier, above all things and a perfect operator, and not above casting his eye towards the déjeuner à la fourchette, or the coffee manufacture, etc. I hate a fine or a difficult gentleman; and I abhor a rogue, more from irritation even than economy. I care not whether I give him one or two hundred a year. I am looking out, so do not engage anybody till you have written to me, lest 1 should have iwins. Montrond will speak to Boucher; ask him to do so for me. I hope you feel a little interest in my dinners being good, which diminishes the scruples I should otherwise feel." Montrond, of whom mention is frequently made in this correspondence, was the private secretary to the Prince de Talleyrand, and, like Yorick, fellow of infinite jest." Lord Alvanley gives the following on his authority:

a

"Montrond is wonderful: apoplexy and gout do their worst, but cannot subdue his spirits and esprit; he killed us with laughing at his stories about M. de Talleyrand's death, which, though it deeply affected him, has still its ludicrous side; and his legacy of a stand-up desk to write at did not soften his natural inclination to be a little sarcastic. He said that when the signature to the retractation was signed, a priest declared it was a miracle, on which he gravely said that he had already known of just such another miracle-that when General Gouvins was killed, he, Montrond, with General Latour Maubourg, went to the spot where he lay, and that they asked the only person who had seen the catastrophe how it occurred; this was a hussar who replied: "Le boulet l'a frappé, et il n'avait que juste le temps de me dire, Prenez ma bourse et ma montre; et il est mort!" This apologue, as you may suppose, was like a shell thrown into Dino's

coterie."

Five years after the death of his patron Montrond had a retractation of his own to make. "Apoplexy and the gout," or pa

"Having so long known his antecedents, was naturally very curious to learn the tone of his feelings and the state of his mind at such a crisis, more particularly as I had also heard that his head was as clear and as collected as ever. Three or four days back, when it was said to him, 'Prenez bon courage, vous irez peut-être mieux; assez bien même pour sortir en voiture.' He replied, Oui, je sais bien la voiture dans laquelle je sortirai.' Since this, I find, to my great surprise, that the Duc de Broglie took upon himself to opérer son salut, and was unceasing in his efforts to bring him to a sense of religion; as also Madame Hamelia, who is become a very strict dévote. The same effort woman the late Duchesse de Broglie, when was made some years ago by that excellent Montrond was also in a state of extreme danger. She came and prayed by his bedside, but at that time without making the slightest effect on his mind, for he was then convinced he should recover, and by dint of his own energy. I remember very well he afterwards said to me, 'J'aurais très bien pu mourir, si je l'avois voulu.' Now it is said that he has shown great signs of religion and contrition. Il a été administré, et il s'est confessé trois fois.' The Abbé Petitpas was constantly with him, and during his first entretien said to him, 'Vous avez sans doute dans votre tems dit beaucoup de plaisanteries contre la religion.' His reply was, Non, jamais; j'ai toujours vécu en bonne compagnie;' an expression which, though by no means true, showed his good worldly taste. This change (for I will not call it conversion) is, however, very remarkable, particularly as we all remember that he did every thing in his power to dissuade M. de Talleyrand from signing his rétractation on his death-bed, and then turned it into ridicule. Enfin, he died yesterday in what the Catholics call odeur de saintete; he desired the crucifix to be placed at his bed's head, and would not allow it to be removed.”

The duke's comment on this account is as follows: "I am sorry for poor Montrond, but pleased that he died a Christian. I don't believe that these sudden death-bed conversions are of good example; but it is better that they should take place for such a man as he was, rather than not at all. They produce some effect on those who imitate them,

and the few who admire them. I don't think | kneaded in very imperishable bas-relief; but that his last moments were calculated to the quality of his customers divides the conciliate the generality of the society at critics. Petre thinks one way, Visconti Paris or in France, who rarely think seri- another." Of a Dandy's hardships in Rome ously on any subject." Lord Rokeby (who, however, was for the time a cripple) says, "Lady Coventry donne beaucoup à dîner, and is splendidly established; the only inconvenience for me is, that there are one hundred and twenty-two steps to mount, and four to descend, before one arrives in her presence, and all in the open air." Life in Naples was (and is) en

Amongst the foreign allies of the Dandies was Count Matuscewic, who was "a fast man" before the phrase was well-established, for he apologizes for postponing the answer to a letter till "his Sunday leisure," for the following reason: "On any other day writing forces me to increase my pace to cover, or to incur the risks of being too late :joyed at Naples on easier terms. Lord Alyou have been yourself pursuing the same vanley writes: "This place is intended for sport, therefore I trust you will understand elderly gentlemen, who wish to go easily and forgive me." The count, who mingles down the inclined plane. Pleasing but quiet politics with his communications, looks at society, plenty of gayety out of doors for the France (in 1832) from an eminently Russian eye, and very good cheer in the house for point of view: "Things," he says, "look the appetite, and perfect liberty to do what more and more gloomy in France; all I wish you like without being questioned. The peois, that no power would attack them, nor ple of the world here are glad to see you act upon a system which might be considered if you come to them, and don't come if you as oppressive. They are sure to have a blow- don't. All this, and in air perfumed with up in a short time, and then they must cut orange-flowers, makes existence glide away their own throats, which will be a great bless- imperceptibly and easily; I have got a house ing to Europe; or attack their neighbors at Castellamare which is delicious, in the in which case they will meet with a much shade, half-way up the hill, planted in the stronger and much more successful resistance centre of a garden of oranges, lemons, and than they seem to anticipate." Scrope Da- vines, with a terrazzo that commands the vies (a friend of Lord Byron, who dedicated whole bay,-Vesuvius, Ischia, etc. It is a "Parisina" to him) tells Mr. Raikes (at perfect Paradise; but the evil of it is, I am second-hand) a good story illustrative of the alone in it-no Eve, not even a serpent to historical knowledge of the Welsh. "On tempt me." Lord Alvanley, like most of the restoration of Charles the Second a form those who dwelt in "the watch-tower of the of prayer and thanksgiving was sent down Dandies" (White's clubhouse), was fond of into Wales, to be read in all churches and the good cheer he speaks of. In his boat on chapels. This is all very well, perhaps, for the Nile, his cook, Achmet, served up as the the Charles the Second,' said the Welsh; but first dish at dinner, "the patriarchal lamb, what is become of Charles the First ?' Of roasted whole, and though it looked very Cromwell they had never heard a syllable." like a dead dog, it was excellent." Less They are better informed now, for the Pem- doubtful was what follows: "I am living brokeshire peasants of the present day show like a Sardanapalian. Achmet improves the mark of Oliver Cromwell's horse's hoof every hour. Certain lambs' tails, as big as in the pavement before the high altar of St. muffins, and heads as small as French rolls, David's Cathedral. Lord Rokeby (the late) broiled with Egyptian onions, and an agro and Lord Alvanley both write to Mr. Raikes dolce sauce of lemons and fresh sugar-cane, from various parts of Europe and the East. are beyond praise." Other pleasurable obThe first, at Rome, says "the Corso looks jects he described in the following terms:like a patched pair of breeches, so unlike the gloom and filth of the circumjacent palazzi,” and mentions the discovery of a baker's tomb: "The great subject of discussion is, whether he baked his rolls for Republicans or Imperialists. No one can doubt his profession, as the whole operation is

"The Nile is a very magnificent river in point of size, but the water is deep mudblue Egean and Neapolitan seas. The banks color, and offends eyes accustomed to the are high; and as the country is a dead flat, you see nothing but the villages which happen to be on the banks. They are of mud,