perhaps the worst possible post, Fernando Po; when he did at last get a situation to his heart, the consulship at Damascus, after a while he was abruptly cashiered, though his conduct was subsequently approved and he was sent to Trieste where he was left from 1873 till his death in 1890. ... This is a sad record for a man of such great and varied abilities, of such energy and industry, who knew twenty-nine languages, who understood the East as few Europeans ever have, who was one of the pioneers of modern African exploration, and who wrote, on widely different subjects, works that will always have value. In spite of Lady Burton's protestations, we can see that, to a certain extent, he had himself to blame for his woes; but we will not undertake to say how much.-COOL IDGE, A. C., 1893, Life of Sir Richard Burton, The Nation, vol. 57, p. 178.

Truly, the story of this good knight and "Isabel his wife" should be writ in other languages than our nineteenth century work-a-day tongue. It should be sung, as a "romaunt" of heroic emprise, of battle with savage foes, of wanderings through the magic lands and mysterious cities of the sun: of glory and mishap, and much persecution; above all, of true love that never failed or wavered, through life or in death. Such a story we might have received as a legend of early medieval times, and treasured, like the acts of a St. George, or a knightly Quest originated at the "Round Table" of King Arthur. It is difficult to look upon it in the light of modern day, as a tale of marvels enacted concurrently with our own lives. The potent spell of it all lies in the man's ill-rewarded courage and endurance for honour and country's sake; in his lady's love and loyal service at his side, "surpassing woman's power."-GowING, EMILIA AYLMER, 1894, Sir Richard Burton, Belgravia, vol. 84, p. 146.

His intellectual gifts, his power of assuming any character he pleased, his facility in acquiring languages, his love of adventure and contempt for danger-all singled him out as a remarkable man. He was very dark, of an almost gypsy aspect. In fact, although he had no known Oriental blood, Lady Burton always thought it strange that he had so many characteristics of the race. He possessed the same power to read the hand at a glance, the same restlessness and inability to stay long in one place, the

same philosophic endurance of any evil, and the same horror of a corpse, that distinguish the highest gypsy races. While in the East he could disguise himself so well as to pass for a dervish in the mosques, or as a merchant in the bazars. He undertook a pilgrimage to Mecca, disguised as a pilgrim, and accomplished it in safety, his real identity and nationality never being suspected. It is a proof of the power of the man that he carried the assumed character through to the end-for one mistake or slip would have caused him to pay the forfeit with his life.CURTIS, GEORGINA P., 1900, Isabel, Lady Burton, Catholic World, vol. 72, p. 93.

GENERAL

His cast of mind was so original that not only did he never borrow from any one else, but he was disposed to resent another's trespassing upon such subjects as he considered his own. But no man could be more cordial in his admiration of honest work done in bordering fields of learning. He was ever ready to assist, from the stores of his experience, young explorers and young scholars; but here, as in all else, he lism. His virility stamped everything he was intolerant of pretentiousness and sciosaid or wrote. His style was as characteristic as his hand-writing.-COTTON, J. S., 1890, Sir Richard Burton, The Academy, vol. 38, p. 365.

A living soul that had strength to quell Hope the spectre and fear the spell,

Clear-eyed, content with a scorn sublime And a faith superb, can it fare not well?

While England sees not her old praise dim, While still her stars through the world's night swim,

A fame outshining her Raleigh's fame, A light that lightens her loud sea's rim, Shall shine and sound as her sons proclaim The pride that kindles at Burton's name.

And joy shall exalt their pride to be The same in birth if in soul the same. -SWINBURNE, ALGERNON CHARLES, 1891, Verses on the Death of Richard Burton, New Review, vol. 4, p. 99.

No man of modern times lived a life so full of Romance as Burton. To find his parallel we must turn to the careers of the Elizabethan heroes, notably Sir Walter Raleigh. For Burton was something more than a "gentleman adventurer." He was at once a poet-as the Kasidah, wisely quoted by Lady Burton in full, shows beyond cavil-historian, traveller, profound

oriental scholar, and soldier. Even his faults, often virtues in uncongenial sursoundings, were those of the Elizabethan age; and his failures were due almost entirely to the fact that he had to live, not under the personage of Gloriana, but in our nineteenth century. . . . That such a man as Burton should have been reduced to his last £15 is a burning scandal to the country whose interests he strove so gallantly to serve. His entire fitness for an Eastern post is demonstrated by the respect the natives of all classes and divisions felt for him, and the fear and love he awakened in his subordinates.-ADDLESHAW, PERCY, 1893, Life of Sir Richard Burton, The Academy, vol. 44, pp. 333, 334.

Sir Richard Burton has left behind him an enormous mass of published and unpublished writings, consisting of accounts of countries which he visited, reports to the Royal Geographical Society, treatises on various subjects connected with his expeditions, a translation of Camoëns, and numerous grammars, vocabularies, and other linguistic works. As an Oriental scholar it is possible that his much-discussed edition of the "Arabian Nights" is his most valuable production; and it is therefore probable that the destruction of his manuscript "The Scented Garden," was, at all events, a loss to Eastern scholarship. Generally speaking, his books, although graphic and vivacious, suffer from the want of a more complete digestion, and greater care in compilation, are too impetuous, and have the air of being written au courant de plume, without much arrangement or revision. Such volumes, however, as the famous "Pilgrimage to Mecca;" "Scinde; or, the Unhappy Valley;" or the Account of his Mission to the King of Dahomé, would alone be a sufficient monument even of an extraordinary man; but Sir Richard lets them fall by the way as chronicles of his amusements and records of the more picturesque episodes of his career. -NEWTON, MRS. ROBINSON, 1893, The Life of Mr. Richard Burton," Westminster Review, vol. 140, p. 482.

Whether or no Lady Burton was, all in all, justified in burning the "Scented Garden" is at least an open question; but the charge that in so doing she showed "the bigotry of a Torquemada and the vandalism of a John Knox" is overstrained. Miss Stisted's characterization of the act as

"theatrical" is unfair.-JOHNSON, E. G., 1897, Lady Isabel Burton, The Dial, vol. 22, p. 355.

Burton was attracted to Camoens as the

mouthpiece of the romantic period of discovery in the Indian Ocean. The voyages, the misfortunes, the chivalry, the patriotism of the poet were to him those of a brother adventurer. In his spirited sketch of the life and character of Camoens it is not

presumptuous to read between the lines breathes through his translation of the allusions to his own career. This sympathy lar success, won the enthusiastic approval of Portuguese epic, which, though not a poputhe few competent critics. . . . Of Burton's translations of "The Arabian Nights" it is difficult to speak freely. While the "Camoens" was only a succes d'estime, and "The Book of the Sword" little short of a failure, the private circulation of "The Book of a Thousand Nights and a Night" (1885-6, 10 vols.), brought to the author a profit of about 10,000/ which enabled him to spend his declining years in comparative luxury. This much at least may be said in justification of some of the baits that he held out to the purchasers. For it would be absurd to ignore the fact that the attraction lay not so much in the translation as in the notes and the terminal essay, where certain subjects of curiosity are discussed with naked freedom. Burton was but following the example of many classical scholars of high repute and indulging a taste which is more widespread than modern prudery will allow. In his case something more may be urged. The whole of his life was a protest against social conventions. Much of it was spent in the East, where the intercourse between men and women is more according to nature, and things are called by plain names. Add to this Burton's insatiable curiosity, which had impelled him to investigate all that concerns humanity in four continents. Of the merits of Burton's translation no two opinions have been expressed. The quaintness of expression that some have found fault with in the "Lusiads" are here not out of place, since they reproduce the topsy-turvy world of the original. If an eastern story-teller could have written in English he would write very much as Burton has done. A translator can expect no higher praise.COTTON, J. S., 1901, Dictionary of National Biography, Supplement, vol. 1, pp. 354, 355.

PERSONAL

The greatest preacher by far, and perhaps the greatest genius (though he retired a good deal from action), in the English Church is taken from us. You knew him much better than I did, but I have known him well since 1846, and almost from the first anticipated his greatness.-LAKE, WILLIAM CHARLES, 1890, Letter to Lord Halifax, Sept. 10; Memorials, ed. his Widow, p. 305.

As a preacher, his influence has been unique in our time-more powerful, as I be lieve, even than that of the present Bishop of Peterborough or the late Bishop Wilberforce, notwithstanding the close logic of the former and the persuasive rhetoric of the latter; for Liddon combined the two. Profound and ever-increasing stores of learning, careful study and preparation, great power of language, a clear, distinct intonation, and withal that great force which earnest personal conviction brings with it (the 0íkn íστis of Aristotle) these seem to me to have been some of the elements of his strength. It has been said that his style was formed upon French rather than English models. . . . Of his charm in private life, of the value of his personal friendship, of the brilliancy of his conversation, of his quiet humour and power of sarcasm-ever kept within due bounds of these things I do not trust myself to speak. Much that I might say seems too private and too sacred for these pages. It is rather of his public life and his work for the Church that I write.-POTT, ALFRED, 1890, Canon Liddon, New Review, vol. 3, pp. 306, 307.

I never heard Liddon preach. But I have

The personal factor, by which the claim of St. Paul's to become once more a wide spiritual home for London could make itself heard and felt over the hearts of large multitudes, was to be found in the preaching of Dr. Liddon. That voice reached far and wide. It fixed the attention of the whole city on what was going forward in its midst. It kindled the imagination, so that the big world outside was prepared for great things. It compelled men to treat seriously what was done. No one could suppose that the changes in the services and ritual of St. Paul's were superficial or formal or of small account, so long as that voice rang on, like a trumpet, telling of righteousness and temperance and judgment, preaching ever and always, with personal passion of belief, Jesus Christ and Him crucified.-HOLLAND, HENRY SCOTT, 1894, Life and Letters of Dean Church, ed. his Daughter, p. 260.

A twofold memorial will keep his fame before the minds of future generations. First the beautiful monument in the great Cathedral, and next the scholarships at Oxford, founded in his name, for the training of candidates for Holy Orders in the careful and scientific study of theology. But his character and life will never be forgotten so

long as English Churchmen gratefully recall the debt they owe to him in the noble band of Oxford theologians and preachers. Single-hearted, perfectly free from all vulgar craving for honour or preferment, courageous in proclaiming truth, the friend of the oppressed, generous in giving almost to lavishness, considerate and tender to lowly men and women, his example as well as his splendid gifts will be for ever linked with the great revival of the Church of England in which he played so noble a part.-DONALDSON, AUG. B., 1900, Five Great Oxford Leaders, p. 308.

GENERAL

In all Liddon's discourses we can mark an apologetical aim, but his method is best seen in the volume called "University Sermons," originally published under the title "Some Words for God," and in the "Elements of Religion," a course of lectures delivered during Lent, 1870, in St. James's Church, Piccadilly. These discourses show that he possesses, in a high degree, many of the qualities needed in a modern apologist of Christianity. No apologist in our time, writing from the strict Church standpoint, has done his special work so well. He may be compared without disadvantage with Lacordaire, whom, indeed, he greatly excels in learning and range of thought.GIBB, JOHN, 1880, Theologians of the Day, Catholic Presbyterian, vol. 3, p. 3.

His intellect, as such, would never stir. You could anticipate, exactly, the position from which he would start. It never varied. He had won clear hold on the dogmatic expressions by which the Church of the Councils secured the Catholic belief in the Incarnation; and there he stood with unalterable tenacity. Abstract ideas did not apAbstract ideas did not ap

peal to him: for philosophy he had no liking, though, naturally, he could not fail in handling it to show himself a man of cultivated ability. But it did not affect him at all: he never felt drawn to get inside it. He did not work in that region. His mental tone was intensely practical; it was Latin, it was French, in sympathy and type. For Teutonic speculation he had a most amusing repugnance. Its misty magniloquence, its grotesque bulk, its immense clumsiness, its laborious pedantry, which its best friends admit, brought out everything in him that was alert, rapid, compact, practical, effective, humorous. There was nothing against which his entire armoury came into more vivid play-his brilliant readiness, his penetrating irony, his quick sense of proportion, his admirable and scholarly restraint, his delicate grace, his fastidious felicity of utterance. He had the double gift of the preacher. He impressed, he overawed, he mastered, by the sense of unshaken solidity which his mental characteristics assured to him. Men felt the force of a position which was as a rock amid the surging seas. Here was the fixity, the security, the eternal reassurance most needed by those who wondered sadly whether the sands under their feet were shifty or no. And yet, at the service of this unmoving creed was a brain, a heart, alive with infinite motion, abounding in rich variety, fertile, resourceful, quickening, expansive, vital. And, if we add to this a strong will, possessed of unswerving courage, and utterly fearless of the world, we shall see that there was in him all the elements that constitute a great Director of Souls. HOLLAND, HENRY SCOTT, 1890, H. P. Liddon, Contemporary Review, vol. 58, pp. 476, 477.

GENERAL

That despicable mass of inanity. ["London Assurance."]-POE, EDGAR ALLAN, 1846, The Literati, Works, ed. Stedman and Woodbury, vol. VIII, p. 31.

We have already noticed Mr. Dion Boucicault's share in "Foul Play." This collaboration gratified Charles Reade more thoroughly than any during his lifetime; and although he could chaff Mr. Boucicault as "a sly fox," esteemed both his society and friendship very highly. On one occasion, when a remark was hazarded in disparagement of a drama by this gentleman, he turned contemptuously on the speaker with the query, "Will you find me another man in England who could write such a comedy?" Nor was his belief in Mr. Boucicault ever shaken-indeed, he envied his capacity for commanding both the tears and laughter, the astonishment and delight, of the Gallery.-READE, CHARLES L., AND REV. COMPTON, 1887, Memoir of Charles Reade, p. 398.

I remember that when Mr. Dion Boucicault originally produced the "Shaughraun"-it was at Wallack's Theatre in New York ten or twelve years ago-there was an attempt to prove that he had taken his plot from an earlier Irish drama by Mr. Wybert Reeve. At first sight the similarity between the two plays was really striking, and parallel columns were erected with ease. But a closer investigation revealed that all that was common to these two plays was common to fifty other Irish plays, and that all that gave value to the 'Shaughraun"—the humor, the humanity, the touches of pathos, the quick sense of character-was absent from the other play. There is a formula for the mixing of an Irish drama, and Mr. Reeve and Mr. Boucicault had each prepared his piece according to this formula, making due admixture of the Maiden-in-Distress, the Patriot-in-danger-of-his- Life, and the cowardly Informer, who have furnished forth many score plays since first the RedCoats were seen in the Green Isle. Both dramatists had drawn from the common stock of types and incidents, and there was really no reason to believe that Mr. Boucicault was indebted to Mr. Reeve for anything, because Mr. Reeve had little in his play which had not been in twenty plays before, and which Mr. Boucicault could not have put together out of his recollec

tions of these without any knowledge of that.-MATTHEWS, BRANDER, 1888, Pen and Ink, p. 42.

Dion Boucicault brought the stage romanticism of Victor Hugo and Dumas down to our day. But the transit was not made in Victor Hugo's vehicle. That which was a conviction with the Master, became an expedient with the imitator. To fix the status of this indefatigable worker, who was always felicitous without being fecund, is not an easy matter. His repertoire affects the student of stage literature now, like a long twilight which gets glory from what has departed. And yet it is in Dumas and Klopstock that we must find the prototypes of this inspired activity, rather than in Lope de Vega. If he was not endowed with that reflex of the Infinite, which creates by an inbreathing, he was at least gifted with the wonderful finite craft which can fashion by an onlaying. This is always the playwright's function, in contradistinction to the dramatist's. But Dion Boucicault had something more than the playwright's craft. He possessed the swift instinct which apprehends the aberrations of the public pulse, and can seize and use for its own purposes those vague emotions which sweep over a community, and are at once irresistible and evanescent. . . The Dion Boucicault of "London Assurance" is an unknown quantity. The Dion Boucicault of "The Colleen Bawn" is within the measurement of most of us. And here it should be said at once that "The Colleen Bawn" is probably the most romantic, as it was certainly the most successful, Irish play that had been written, up to the time of its production. The success was Dion Boucicault's. The romance belonged to another.

He had produced "The Shaughraun." Greater and nobler plays lie like wrecks all along the record. A more phenomenal public triumph cannot be mentioned. . . . It is a matter of approximate verification that Dion Boucicault received as his share of the profits of the "Shaughraun over eight hundred thousand dollars. -WHEELER, A. C., 1890, Dion Boucicault, The Arena, vol. 3, pp. 47, 52, 59.

His dramas show little originality, being almost without exception built on some work, play, or romance previously existing. -KNIGHT, JOSEPH, 1901, Dictionary of National Biography, Supplement, vol. I, p. 237.