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clear crystal Greek, like the sound of Υγιεια πρεσβιστα μακαρων a brook to a sick man as he tosses
μετα σου ναοιμι thirsty on his pillow.
το λοιπομενον βιοτας.
May I be ever blest
Be thou, I pray, my constant guest.
Round wealth or kiugly sway,
Weave round the trusting heart,
Thine is the charm, to thee they owe the grace.
And Pleasure's year attains its sunny spring ;
And where thy smile is not, our joy is but a sigh ! But not only does Athenæus give enter the feast with a feeling of reveus beautiful extracts from others, his rential awe. ..... For, even if an own style not unfrequently kindles aged and venerable man be present, into poetry as he relates old traditions men are ashamed of any riotous revelry; or customis. Thus he tells us in the and much more, therefore, would they ninth book,
be likely to conduct themselves dis“ In Eryx in Sicily there is a certain crectly and soberly, if they believed time of the year which they call the that the gods themselves formed a part Anagogæ, during which, they say, that of the company." Venus departs for Libya, and then T hese extracts give but a poor idea the doves all vanish in the neighbour of the work, but they may still serve hood, as if they too accompanied the as specimens of its various contents. It goddess; and after nine duys, at the is in truth just such a book as a poor period called the Catagogia, a single grammarian might be supposed to white dove is suddenly seen flying from write, who lived in those unquiet the sea in the direction of her temple; days, and who loved all that belonged and then too all the others return to Greece and her history so fondly, And all the wealthy inhabitants who that even her rags and relics seemed live near make this a season of much holy. Grammar rules, and aspirates, festivity, and the common people also and conjugations, were poetry to him, applaud with great joy. And in those for they were the echoes of what had days the whole place appears to smell been the living sounds in Athens' palmy as of butter; and they receive this as days; and the minutest details even a sign of the goddess's return."
about her accents were precious in his At the close of the eighth book he has eyes. Gibbon calls Libanius "a resome beautiful remarks on the ancient cluse student, whose mind, regardless custom of libations during feasts. of his contemporaries, was incessantly
“For the ancients, holding that the fixed on the Trojan war and the gods were of human forin, made use Athenian commonwealth." The chuof this in their feasts. For, when they racter, perhaps, but not the sting, of saw that men could not be prevented the sarcasm, belongs to Athenæus. He from such festive pleasures, they judged was indeed no hollow sophist, and bis it wise and seemly that such entertain- book is as genuine an outburst of his ments should be conducted soberly and heart, as the Iliad. It is a book in in order. They therefore set apart which bis love lingers over every page: definite periods, and, before they re- the modern reader may turn away in laxed their minds into hilarity, they disgust from his long dissertations first offered sacrifice to the gods, that about trifles; but he may be assured each of the guests might remember that his author spent as much study that the gods were come to the offer- and labour on these heavier parts as on ing and the libations, and might thus any of the pieces which he admires.
Emerson says, that “ Nature plants an not Williams; that he was born at eye wherever a new ray of light may Florence, and the lady was a native fall;" and she planted Athenæus exactly of England, whom he married, and she in that spot of time where the glories desired to be buried in Essex; that he of Greece's sunset were seen on the had brought her from Verona in Italy horizon of the past to the most advan- to France by land, then hired a vessel tage, from the contrast afforded by the for Dover, discharged the vessel there, evening shadows which were gathering and took another for Harwich, but was over the Roman world. He has thus drove bither by contrary winds. This preserved for us many a detail which account was not enough to satisfy the would otherwise have been inevitably people; he must tell her name and lost. Many a lighter feature which condition, in order to clear himself of graver writers would have scorned to a suspicion of murder. He was conallude to, and which later writers tinually in tears, and had a key of the would have been utterly unable to vestry, where he sat every day with portray, is thus sketched indelibly in the corpse. My brother went to see his pages, and in his alone, of all the him there, and the scene so shocked extant authors of antiquity.
him he could hardly bear it; he said E. B.C. it was so like Romeo and Juliet. He
was much pleased with my brother, WE have been requested by a Cor as he talked both Latin and French, respondent to insert ihe following nar and (to his great surprise) told him rative, derived from The General Eve- who the lady was, which proving to ning Post, and we presume published be a person he knew, he could not at the time it was written.
help uncovering the face. In short, the “ An extract of a letter from Col- gentleman confessed he was the Earl chester, dated Aug. 18, 1752. Perhaps of Rosebary's son (the name is Primyou have heard that a chest was seized rose), and his title Lord Delamere ; † by the custom-house officers which was that he was born and educated in landed near this place about a fort- Italy, and never was in England till night ago. They took it for smuggled two or three years ago, when he came goods, though the person with it pro- to London, and was in company with duced the King of France's signature this lady, with whom he fell passionto Mr. Williams, as a Hamburgh mer- ately in love, and prevailed on her to chant. Our people, not satisfied with quit the kingdom and marry him ; the account Mr. Williams gave, opened that, having bad health, he had trathe chest, and one of them was going velled with her all over Europe, and to run his hanger in, when the person when she was dying she asked for a to whom it belonged clapped his hand pen and paper, and wrote I am the upon his sword, and desired him to wife of the Rev. Mr. G- , Rector desist (in French), for it was the corpse of Thin Essex; my maiden name of his dear wife. Not contented with was C. Cannon, and my last rethis, the officers plucked off the em- quest is, to be buried at Th- The balining, and found it as he had said. poor gentleman who last married her The man, who appeared to be a person protests he never knew till this conof consequence, was in the utmost fession on her death-bed she was anoagonies while they made a spectacle ther's wife ; but, in compliance with of the lady. They set her in the her desire, he brought her over, and high church,* where any body might should have buried her at Th-(if the come and look on her, and would not corpse had not been stopped) without suffer him to bury her till he gave a making any stír about it. After the further account of himself. There nobleman had made this confession, were other chests of fine clothes, they sent to Mr. G., who put himself jewels, &c. belonging to the deceased. at first in a passion, and threatened to He acknowledged at last that he was run her last husband through the a person of quality; that his name was body. However, he was prevailed on
to be calm : it was represented to him * St. Mary's, Colchester. “This church that this gentleman had been at great stands pleasantly in the highest part of the town." Morant, p. 108.
expense and trouble to fulfil her de. Horace's ode, Quis desiderio sit pudor sire; and Mr. G. consented to see him. aut modus tain chari capitis ? appeared (They say the meeting was very move in a periodical publication addressed ing, and that they addressed each other to his sister Lady Dorothea: civilly.) The stranger protested his Why strive we, Primrose, to conceal affection to the lady was so strong The swelling tear, tbe sigh represt, that it was his earnest wish not only The pangs our bleeding bosoms feel to attend ber to the grave, but to be For thy lord brother, suok to rest ? shut up for ever with her there. No The remainder is not given us by thing in romance ever came up to the the genealogist. passion of this man. He had a very
On Lord Dalmeny's death, his brother fine coffin made for her, with six large Neil became heir to the peerage, to silver plates over it ; and at last was
which he shortly after succeeded, and
which he shortly after sne very loth to part with her to bave her lived to a great age. Mr. Wood re. buried. He put himself in the most marking that at the time of his writing solemn mourning, and on Sunday last in 1812 he was - the only person alive, in a coach attended the corpse to Th-, who was a peer of Scotland, of lewhere Mr. G. met it in solemn mourn.
gitimate age, at the accession of his preing likewise. The Florentine is a gen. sent Majesty King George III." His teel person of a man, seems about
Lordship died in 1814, in his 85th year, twenty-five years of age, and, they say, when he was succeeded by his son the a sensible man; but there never was
present Earl of Rosebery, who is thereanything like his behaviour to his dear
fore no further removed than nephero dear wife, for so he would call her to
from this subject of a tale a century
from this subiect of the last. Mr. G. attended him to Lon.
old. dor: yesterday, and they were very
The other party must have been the civil to each other ; but my lord is in- Rev. James Alexander Gough, for the consolable. He says, he must fly Eng: initials of his name and benefice agree, land), which he never can see more. I
only the latter was a vicarage not a have had this account from many
rectory. This gentleman was vicar of hands, and can assure you it is fact.
Thorpe near Colchester from the 8th Kitty Cannon is, I believe, the first Aug. 1745, to the 7th Oct. 1774, when woman in England that had two hus
his death is recorded in our Magazine bands attend her to the grave toge for that year. ther. You may remember her to be
Since the preceding remarks were sure ; her life would appear to be
written, we find that this sad narrative more romantic than a novel.'"
has been employed by the late Mrs.
Hofland, as the ground-work of the This extraordinary narrative ap- first of her " Tales of the Manor," pears to stand the test of examination. published in 1822. It was there inThe nobleman who bore the title of iroduced as “ a true story ;" and to its Dalmeny in 1752 was John, son of conclusion is appended a note, stating James second Earl of Rosebery, and that was born in the year 1724 or 1725.
“ The author received this story from His mother was Mary, eldest daughter
an old lady who was well acquainted with of the Hon. John Campbell of Ma
this gentleman [i. e. the first husband), more, and sister of John afterwards
whose name, as well as that of the noble(in 1761) fourth Duke of Argyll. His man, she bas a little altered from the ori. father and mother both survived him. gioals."
Lord Dalmeny is stated to have The nobleman's name Mrs. Hofland “ died unmarried at Edinburgh, on altered to Rosedew; the clergyman's the 11th of August, 1755 (about four to Collinson. The heroine she named months before his father), in the 31st Mercy Cecill. The minor incidents year of his age, and was buried at Dal
are varied; the nobleman is already a meny." He is characterised as “ a
peer, but a peer of Scotland. The young nobleman of superior worth and
lady dies just before coming to shore; merit, who early discovered great at
the coffin is opened in the church, an tention to business, and was remarkable for public spirit and generosity. * Douglas's Peerage of Scotland, by Soon after his death an imitation of Wood, vol. ii. p. 408.
act of violence which is accounted for came one of great forbearance of temper, by the political excitement of the day, humility of manners, and conscientious the time of the story being placed in deportment in every respect. His purse 1745. Mr. Collinson is the clergyman was that of every poor man, and his good accidentally engaged to perform the
offices at the service of all who needed service, which is at Colchester itself;
them; and my brothers, who knew him
better than myself, always spoke of him and he is struck to the earth by be
as of a man who had subdued the evil holding his own lost wife exposed to
and expaoded the good in his character view. Some weeks after, he is led to
far more than they ever witnessed in any the death-bed of Lord Rosedew, from other person. With him affliction had its whom he receives presentation to an proper effect; it chastened and purified excellent living: and the story con. his heart." cludes thus :
On the whole we think that Mrs. "He lived to enjoy his acquisition many
Hofland had not seen the same original years, for be visited me since your mother statement which is now brought forwas born ; but he was always a man subject ward ; and some of our readers may to great depression of spirits at times, and be able to point out some different which is now called nervous ; but be be source of the novelist's version.
A VISIT TO BROUGHAM HALL, In a letter addressed to James Dearden, Esq. of The Orchard and Handle Hall,
Lancashire. MY DEAR DEARDEN—You ask me venerable, and massive, it crowns the for some account of the old embattled summit of a precipitous bank, and mansion of Brougham Hall, the seat from its resemblance has been not of the ex-Chancellor Lord Brougham, inaptly termed the Windsor of the and which through the kindness of his North. lordship I visited last autumn.
The principal feature from this The domain is in Westmorland, point of view is a huge square tower, though upon the extreme border and embrasured and machicolated, rising nigh unto Cumberland, and is situated above and connecting itself with vaamid a succession of gradually dimi rious masses of embattled buildings, nishing woody hills and green head and grouping in the most pictorial lands, which connect the open country fashion with the aged trees which with the mighty mountainous chain feather the steep descent to the river. surrounding the lakes.
Nothing could be more picturesque The nearest town is Penrith, and than it was as I first saw it, sometimes from hence a pleasant walk of a mile for a moment reposing its darkened or so on the Shap road brings you to and shadowy mass of battlements and the gate, after passing through a suc- towers upon the white, driving, fleecy cession of inclosures sprinkled with clouds, and the next standing out in old gabled cottages and farm-houses, high relief upon a back-ground of deep clothed in a most luxuriant garb of blue sky or deeper cloud, with all its wild rose and honeysuckle, intermin- small irregular and diamond-paned gled with the darker ivy. The first casements sparkling and glittering in distinct view from the road is imme- the sun. Crossing Lowther Bridge, the diately after passing the old British visitor leaves the main road through remain “ King Arthur's round table," the park gate, and, passing for a short and before ascending the celebrated distance through the wood, finds him. and no less picturesque bridge of Low. self beneath the terrace immediately ther, so well known as the spot where in front of the great tower, which Cluny Macpherson engaged the adseems to have been constructed, from vanced guard of the Duke of Cumber- the situation and direction of the maland in 1745, and brought off the artil- chicolations, with the intention of de. lery belonging to the Higbland army. fending this part of the approach. From this place the old hall assumes The road now winds round the base a very imposing appearance. Grey, of the buildings, splayed down and butGent. MAG. VOL. XXIX.
tressed at intervals, and in some parts sage beneath a tower large enough for discovering portions of scarped rock, carriages leads into a second court, revealing the foundations of the edi- appertaining to the offices, stables, &c. fice. A parrow ribbed bridge over and having a clock tower, and another head at one point connects the terrace arched gatehouse leading into the park. with the chapel, beneath which the The principal suit of apartments oc. road advances, and thence through the cupies three sides of the large court upper part of an old avenue, between first entered, and in the centre a porch, the ruins of the castle and the hall, to embattled and with buttresses, admits the principal gateway, a low heavy through a most hospitable-looking tower, partially covered with ivy, archway into a sort of cloistered pas. through which peer out two or three sage running along the entire front of most significant loop holes, giving this range of the buildings, and assurance of and bearing witness to through it into the great hall, a magthe warın reception unwelcome visit. nificent apartment, and worthy to ors might have got in days of yore. banquet the best of all its noble and Beneath the arch swing an ancient learned owner's most distinguished and most formidable pair of iron-stud- friends. Its dimensions are from forty ded oak-plank gates, four inches thick, to fifty feet long by twenty wide and with a small wicket for foot pas- high, with an oaken roof resting on sengers. These gates are now so much spandrils, the whole illuminated with dilapidated that they are suffered to gold and brilliant colours, lately renorepose against each side, and a modern, vated. The walls are paneled with napfrail, barred gate usurps their ancient kin paneling some twelve feet high, occupation.
and above hang demi-suits of armour, The old oaks in the avenue are intermixed with weapons and stags' getting stag-headed, and seem fast antlers. At the upper end of the hall dying away, more's the pity, forming is the fireplace, richly carved in stone, as they do so desirable an accompani- and beneath its wide yawning arch is a ment, with their shattered and knarled reredos and andirons or dogs, bearing branches twisted in all manner of fan- the arms of Henry VII., for burning tastic forms, so delightful to the artist. wood. Above are two full suits of What a strange charm there is in these armour, one bright, and the other al. stunted, doddered old trees, and still lecret, and between them a beautiful more so in the feudal and embattled demi-suit of bright steel inlaid with balls of the ancient gentry, hoary with gold. Grouping with these military age and the war of elements and of man, accoutrements are pennoncels and with all their historie and romantic banners. In a recessed part of the wall, associations ; crisp with partially de- upon the court cupboard, stand various caying masonry, and tinted by lichen, old pieces of silver-gilt plate and other inosses, and all the small vegeta matters of antiquity, and upon the tion which so much delights in old paneling are suspended guns, old walls.
matchlocks, swords, and other weapons, Passing through the archway, the which, from their family associations antiquary is delighted with the large and interest, are hung low for greater venerable courtyard into which he convenience of examination; the most thus gains admittance, surrounded by particular of which is the old Saxon buildings of various ages, though none horn, a very interesting relic, by posto appearance later than the time of session of which some how or other Henry VII. and arranged in the most the lands were anciently held. At picturesque and irregular manner, the bottom of the hall is a screen of partly covered with ivy, and the walls richly-carved oak, perforated ; and here gray with the weather-stains of cen- stand other three full cap-à-pie suits turies. The edifice is in great part of bright armour; one a very fine suit, built of the limestone of the district, temp. Henry VI., another, a fluted which assumes a great variety of suit, time of Henry VIII., and the third tone and colour after long exposure to of Elizabeth's reign. The old flagged the atmosphere. The windows, door- stone floor has been recently replaced ways, &c. are of sandstone. From by encaustic tiles, having the armorial this court a stone-groined arched pas- devices of the family inlaid upon quar