principal supporters, turns to those of Venice and Lombardy. The others follow in succession.

tion. The present work is written on an extensive plan. It pretends not merely to judge of the chefs-d'œuvre of Italian art, but also of the circumstances out of which Such is the general plan of the work. It is similar to they sprung, or with which their existence is in some that of Lanzi, but indulges somewhat more in general measure connected. For this the Count is well pre-views. Count Orloff has tempered the sterility of detail pared, having resided ten years in Italy. He is rich in by interesting and agreeable dissertation. The whole is various kinds of knowledge, which he knows how to followed by a recapitulation at once ingenious, satisfacemploy to advantage. Perhaps the extent and variety tory, instructive, and just. The account of living arof his information have occasionally led him into dif-tists is extremely imperfect. But this may be excused, fuseness and digression. Still, no one can deny him as it scarcely pretends to any thing but a sketch of those the praise of having presented many very original who reside in Italy. England is left entirely out of the sketches, and many very ingenious observations. The estimate. Be it so; we can manage without the praises, work commences with some general considerations on and we do not much fear the censures of foreign critics. the origin and developement of art amongst the ancients. It then passes rapidly to the regeneration of art in Italy, introduces the reader into the different schools, Europe except our own. A skilful abridgment would be a most deand makes him acquainted with the artists who founded or gave distinction to them, and describes their most celebrated productions.

The author believes painting to have originated from hieroglyphic writing. This opinion has been frequently broached, and with great apparent truth. However, he does not dwell long on this obscure point, but proceeds at once to the more important subject of its developement. We cannot trace him in this part of his work, nor in his account of the decadence of painting. In his notice of its regeneration in Italy he takes Lanzi as his guide, and with more sincerity than some others we could mention, acknowledges his obligation to that laborious and accurate historian. His sketches of the different artists and their pictures are lively and forcible. The following is of Leonardo da Vinci :

"To great personal beauty he united that of the mind: his judgment was correct, and his imagination rich, so that he was no less fitted for distinction in science than for shining in art. Mathematics, music, poetry, the moral energy and the strong intellectual capacity which evinced themselves in his works, painting, and even sculpture, all prove the universality of his genius. There was a fascinating grace in his countenance, his gestures, and his voice, and like one of those enchanters which fairy history describes, he was equally delightful to strangers and his own countrymen, to the people, and to kings.”`

He thus compares da Vinci and Michael Angelo:"The first brilliant and graceful, presents, nevertheless, a marked contrast with the other, who, like Dante, struck out with his pencil and his chisel, whatever was lofty and manly in nature, or bold and sublime in art. Both announced even in their cradles the direction and character of their genius."

The character of Raphael and the description of his different works, are very animated and enthusiastic. He traces his progress from youth to maturity, and sums up his merits in a passage which almost rivals by its eloquence the genius of the painter. The details of the author are relieved by frequent considerations on the state of art, and the causes of its advance or decline. Their condition after the death of Raphael gives rise to some ingenious speculations. From the Roman school he proceeds to the Bolognese; and having described its

This work has been translated into almost every language in sirable present to our literature and art.

Memoirs of Goethe. Written by Himself. 2 vols, 800.
London: H. Colburn.

1824.

sents, we can hardly resist the temptation of writing a WITH Such an opportunity as the work before us predissertation on the literature of Germany, which has recollection of our limited space in a great measure denever been justly appreciated in this country. But the feats the temptation, and we must confine our notice to the biography of Goethe, the most eminent name in the history of German letters. When the original of this work first appeared, it was criticised in the "Edinburgh Review" with a cold and bitter severity which greatly disgraced that able periodical. Goethe, we are told, when he read the article, mildly observed "And this they call criticism!" The truth is, that though the article was discreditable, yet the volumes themselves afford a rich theme for ridicule. A reviewer cannot easily resist such an opportunity, and we can excuse the sarcastic levity of the criticism only by ascribing it to the professional weakness. It is our interest to say this, whatever we may really think.

Goethe is a person of uncommon talents. He at the same time possesses a versatility which is almost without parallel. Yet his taste is extremely defective. His passion is strained and unnatural, and there is an unpleasant affectation about his writings of knowing more than any one else of the heart and mind of man. This moral surgery is carried a great deal too far. But his opinions are strong and original-his contrasts skilful and dramatic-his power over our sympathies very considerable, and his poetry is deeply imbued with the romantic spirit of the chivalry and legends of the middle ages. Beyond all question, Germany has no name to compare with his in the various and splendid achievements of intellect and genius.

The "Memoirs" are intended to form a commentary on his works, and to make known his modes of thinking; they are the reminiscences of the internal and external influences which have produced his different works, and constitute a sort of poetical view of his life. They

are full of egotism and vanity, yet it is the egotism and acquaintance, was sufficient to immortalize any one. vanity of a great man. We have read them in the ori-His vanity exceeds all that we ever read of. It extends ginal with the highest delight, and with scarcely less to things as well as persons; and embalms the most indelight in the very able translation before us. significant of both. His poetical efforts at the University were severely handled by his friends. Gellert was one of these:

The consequence of this was, the committal of all his productions in prose, poetry, and drawing to the kitchen flames. A prudent determination.

The seventh chapter contains an ingenious and accurate sketch of the state of German literature at that

time. Many of the living authors he became acquainted with, and amongst others with Gottsched. The account of their first interview is exceedingly characteris

tic

Goethe was born at Frankfort in the year 1749. His birth, as he himself observes, was a benefit to his native city; for owing to the unskilfulness of the midwife, he "I had no better success with Gellert. He was eternally was nearly strangled in coming into the world, which preaching against poetry. In his private lessons he coninduced his maternal grandfather, who was president of stantly endeavoured to dissuade us from it. He wished all the senate, to institute a course of lectures on midwifery. dull addition. But what was worse, my prose itself selcompositions to be in prose. Verse appeared to him a very It is impossible for us to follow Goethe throughout the dom met with his approbation. Faithful to my old style, I history of his boyish life, and the anecdotes of his early always gave my subject the form of an epistolary romance. associates. It is entertaining to those who are personal- I rose in these compositions to a passionate tone, and the ly connected with him, and to those who have a nastyle was elevated above common prose. Although the ideas certainly indicated no great knowledge of mankind, tional interest in his fame, but to us it appears very still my productions were no worse than those of others. strongly marked with the spirit of trifling. The diffuse-But I met with very little indulgence from Gellert. He ness of the original has been considerably remedied by examined them carefully, corrected them with red ink, and wrote a few moral reflections here and there in the margin. the judgment of the translator, and we are spared much of the absurd detail which marks the German publica- in his hand-writing, but they have at last disappeared I long preserved these sheets, with corrections and notes tion. His architectural taste was early formed by the from amongst my papers." contemplation of some engravings of Piranesi, which hung in the family parlour, and his love for Italian literature and music was excited by the attention of his father, who was partial to both. The gothic buildings and antiquities of Frankfort, pregnant with antique associations, awakened an early attachment to the fabulous legends and romantic recollections of the middle ages. Goethe in describing the earlier stages of his education, dwells with a grateful enthusiasm on the kindness and assistance of his father, who seems from the description to have been an able and accomplished scholar. His boyish politics are related with great glee, but they do not strike us as being very important, except so far as they awakened his poetical powers. His dramatic propensities were first excited by attending the French theatre at Frankfort, and he attempted to write a "We were announced. The servant told us his master would be with us immediately, and shewed us into a spamythological play, which was crushed in the birth by cious room. Perhaps we did not comprehend a sign he the harsh criticisms of a conceited actor. In one re- made us. We thought he was directing us into an adjoinspect this was favourable, for it put him upon studying ing chamber, on entering which we witnessed a whimsical the theory of dramatic composition. One of his earliest scene. Gottsched appeared at the same instant, at an opposite door. He was enormously corpulent. He wore a daproductions was a poetical history of Joseph. He enmask robe de chambre lined with red taflety. His monstrous tered upon the studies of music, Hebrew, and English,|| bald head was bare, contrary to his intention, for his serand made considerable proficiency in all. We must vant rushed in at the same instant by a side door, with a pass over the account of his acquaintances, the Olen-long wig in his hand, the curls of which descended below the shoulders. He presented it to his master with a tremschlagers, Reinecks, Huisgens, &c. &c. as well as the bling hand. Gottsched, with the greatest apparent serenity, spirited account of the coronation of the Emperor Jo- took the wig with his left hand, with which he dexterously seph. Some of his young companions had been accus- fitted it to his head, whilst with the right he gave the poor ed and imprisoned for forgery and swindling, and poor the door in a pirouette, like a valet in a play; after which devil a most vigorous box on the ear, which sent him to Goethe was in a slight degree implicated with them. the old pedagogue, turning to us with an air of dignity, reAmongst the party was a beautiful girl to whom he wasquested us to be seated, and conversed with us very pogreatly attached, and the idea of her imprisonment and litely for a considerable time." possible guilt, threw him into a severe illness. How- But literature and poetry all gave way to love. Once ever they were all at last pardoned, Margaret was ban- more he loses his heart to the daughter of his host; but ished, and Goethe sent to the University at Leipsic.after a good deal of passion and caprice, he entirely Here, as before, we are presented with a gallery of por-alienates her affections by his jealousies and despotism. traits of all the persons he met with at the University. The consequence of this was, the sitting down and writ Nothing can be more insipid than this garrulity.ing a drama on his own folly and wickedness. It is Goethe seemed to think that the mere fact of being his thus he sentimentalizes over his conduct :

"I shall never forget our introduction at Gottsched's; it first floor at the Golden Bear; old Breitkoft had given him was characteristic of the man. He lived in a handsome these apartments for life, in consideration of the benefits arising to his bookselling business from the translations and other works of his guest.

"This was the origin of the oldest of those of my drama- curled and dressed, a black coat, and a long silk cloak of tic works which have been preserved; the title of which is, the same colour, the end of which was tucked up into his The Caprices of a Lover. It is a faithful picture of the af-pocket. This costume, elegant on the whole, although a fliction caused to an innocent being by an ardent passion. little singular, I had heard described and hence I was But I was already acquainted with the miseries of social convinced that the celebrated individual whose arrival had life my adventure with Margaret, and the consequences been announced to us, now stood before me. The manner of that connexion, had opened my eyes to the strange ir- in which I accosted him was calculated to lead him to supregularities that are to be found in the bosom of civil society. pose that I knew him. He asked my name, which could Religion, morality, the laws, the influence of profession, be of no interest to him. My open manner, however, habitual relations, and custom-all these things rule its seemed to please him. He answered me with great civility, surface only. In a town, the streets embellished with fine and when we got up stairs our conversation soon grew anihouses are carefully kept clean: every one behaves in them mated. On leaving him I asked his permission to see him with tolerable decency. But penetrate into the interior, again, which he granted, apparently with pleasure. I and you will often find in them a disorder which seems the availed myself of this favour several times. I daily found more disgusting from the neatness that prevails without. myself more strongly attracted towards him. There was A dazzling stucco on the outside, scarcely conceals walls in his manners a kind of unaffected delicacy which became that are ready to fall in ruins. At length, some night, him wonderfully. His face was round, his forehead large down they come, with a crash which seems the more ter- and commanding, his nose somewhat short; and although rible, on account of the tranquil repose amidst which it his lips were rather too thick, he had, on the whole, a very suddenly happens. How many families, more or less con- agreeably formed mouth. The effect of his black eyes, nected with me, have I already seen either precipitated shaded by sable brows, was not destroyed by the redness into the abyss, or with difficulty preserving themselves on and inflammation to which one of them was subject. He the brink of the precipice, towards which they have been asked me many questions relative to my character and sihurried by bankruptcies, divorces, rapes, robberies, and tuation; and I, with my natural inclination to place confimurders! Young as I was, how often in such cases has my dence, kept nothing concealed from this new friend. But aid been resorted to: for my open manner already inspired it was not long before the repulsive features of his character confidence. My discretion had been tried. No sacrifice began to manifest themselves, and in some measure disconalarmed my zeal, and I was capable of rendering myself certed me. I talked to him of the occupations and tastes useful in the most perilous circumstances. I had often had of my youth, and amongst others of a collection of seals opportunities of appeasing or averting a storm, and of ren- which I had made by the assistance of a friend of our fadering all kinds of good offices. I had been exercised by mily, whose correspondence was very extensive. Herder numerous and painful trials, caused by events which inte- was sometimes good-natured and accessible, and sometimes rested others or myself. These events furnished me with governed by a wayward humour. All men are more or less subjects and plans for dramatic compositions: I sketched subject to similar changes; there are few who can really several of them; but I found it by far too painful a task to subdue their temper, and many who possess only the apcomplete them. As they all necessarily terminated in a pearance of this self-dominion. As to Herder, when bitgloomy and tragical manner, I abandoned them all one terness and the spirit of contradiction got possession of his after another. The Accomplices was the only one I finish-mind, it was to be attributed to his sufferings. The aced. The gay and burlesque colouring which mingles with tion of these causes constantly occurs in life; and many family scenes of a dark hue, enlivens a representation characters are very ill appreciated, because people always which, on the whole, leaves a sorrowful impression. Acts suppose others to be in good health, and expect men to be of violation of the laws, represented in their true charac- always masters of themselves. He was five years younger ter of rude violence, annihilate the sentiment of the beau- than me; a difference of age which is sensibly perceived tiful, and that of morality. It is this which generally ex- amongst young people. His acknowledged merit, and my cludes such productions from the theatre, although they esteem for such of his literary works as he had already pubhave sometimes been favourably received by the public,|| lished, gave him a great superiority over me: but this bewhere these circumstances have been softened. nevolent churl, whilst he subjugated my mind, effected in it a singular revolution. Such of my elders as I had hitherto associated with, had endeavoured to improve me by treating me with great indulgence. But as to Herder, his approbation was never to be reckoned upon, in whatever manner it might be sought. On one side, my strong attachment to and respect for him-and on the other, the self-dissatisfaction he excited in me, kept me in a state of internal contention and contradiction which I had never before experienced. His conversation, always highly interesting, his manner of interrogating and giving answers, suggested new reflections and ideas to my mind. I now found myself initiated on a sudden, by Herder, into all the new attempts and views of our literary men, in which he himself appeared to take a very active part. By his fragnation had to boast. It is impossible to form an adequate placed himself on a level with the most eminent men our idea of the workings of a mind of such strength, or of the reflections and studies that nourished the rich and fertile genius which has since revealed itself in all Herder's publications."

"Yet these dramatic pieces were composed under the influence of more elevated views, although I did not analyse those motives whilst engaged in their production. They tend to produce sentiments of tolerance in the moral account which men are destined to render. They illustrate in a forcible manner those truly Christian words,' Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.'"

He visits Dresden, where he improves his taste and enlarges his circle of acquaintance, and then returns to Frankfort. Here he devotes himself to the studies of Alchymy, Theosophy, and the Cabala. The vehemence with which he pursued them threw him into a severe illness, which rendered it necessary for him to go to Stras-ments, critical works, and other compositions, he had burg for his health and to take his degree. At Strasburg he became acquainted with the celebrated Herder, and regarded it as the most important event of that period of his life:

"On hearing of his arrival we all wished to see him. It was chance that procured me this good fortune. I had gone to pay a visit at the Hotel de l'Esprit. At the foot of the staircase I met a man who seemed to me to be a clergyman, and who was likewise going up stairs. He wore his hair

Goëthe had up to this time been much attached to the literature of France, and knew very little of that of England. He gives us a candid and ableesti mate of the

spirit of French literature, and then states the revolution which was operated in his taste by a new and powerful influence:

Sussex, where he resides for a long time in poverty and happiness. Ellen is educated and adopted by a wealthy lady who dwells near her father, and is introduced by her to fashionable society, where she breaks the hearts "Can it be necessary to add that I allude to Shakspeare? of all the women with envy, and all the men with pasDoes not this name alone render all further explanation needless? Shakspeare is better known in Germany than sion. Here she reigns for some time as beauty-paraany where else; even better, perhaps, than in his own mount, receiving and rejecting a hundred offers. But country. We render him all the justice, the homage he is whilst the hearts of others are wounded, she does not entitled to; we extend to him the indulgence which we refuse each other. Men of the most eminent talents have escape unscathed herself. There is a Lord Ashdale, (the made it their business to present all the qualities with which son of her father's patron,) who makes a deep impresthis great genius was endowed in the most favourable light; sion upon her affections, and the great interest of the and I have always heartily subscribed to all that has been story turns upon the probable issue of their mutual atsaid in honour of him, and to every defence of his admira-tachment. His Lordship is himself betrothed to a cerble talents. I have already described the impression which this extraordinary mind produced upon me, and the few remarks which I have hazarded on his works have been favourably received.

tain Lady Elizabeth, whom he does not love, and who does not love him. We cannot detail any of the perplexities and embarrassments which this game of cross"I shall, therefore, confine myself on this occasion to a more precise explanation of the manner in which I became purposes occasions, but they are certainly told with acquainted with Shakspeare. When I was at Leipsic, I great effect. Indeed, the machinery of the novel is read Dodd's collection, entitled The Beauties of Shak-managed with singular ability, and betrays if not a speare. Notwithstanding all that may be said against col-practised, at least a very skilful hand. The repose of lections of this kind, which only make an author known Ellen is essentially disturbed by the artful schemes of piece-meal. they produce, in my opinion, very good ef Lord Desborough, a passionate and profligate peer, fects. Our understanding is not always strong enough to comprehend the whole value of an entire work; nor do we whose offers of marriage she had rejected. However, always know how to distinguish the passages which have an the Lord Desborough is finally shot, and the Lord Ashimmediate relation to ourselves. Young people, in parti- dale narries Miss Ellen. But in arriving at this stage of cular, whose minds are not sufficiently cultivated to possess much penetration, may be discouraged if they have the novel, we are obliged to contend with no small porto choose for themselves; and they have a greater relish tion of romantic exaggeration. We are willing to allow for the brilliant extracts which are detached and laid before a great deal to the licentiousness of genius, and the inthem. For my part, the perusal of the fragments I met definite generalities of fictitious writing, but Miss Moore with in the collection above-mentioned is amongst my most agreeable recollections. Those noble strokes of origina- has trespassed a little too much on both of these indullity, those fine sentiments, those excellent descriptions, gencies. Bating these exceptions, we find no fault of those sallies of rich humour, so frequent in Shakspeare, importance in "Ellen Ramsay." The dialogue is exhad a powerful effect on me when presented in this insu-tremely neat, and often very pointed.. The sketches of

lated manner."

And here for the present must we leave the patriarch of German literature.

domestic and fashionable life are full of spirit, and some of the portraits of character shew great power of description. In the pathetic, the fair author is very successful; and two or three scenes might be referred to of Ellen Ramsay. By MISS HANNAH W. MOORE. 3 vols. an extremely touching interest. It is no extravagant

London: Longman and Co. 1824.

WE felt a good deal of alarm in taking up these volumes. There was something in the name of the writer

praise to say, that this novel is infinitely above the common run of this class of writing, and may take rank with the best productions of the day.

wood, 1824.

Edinburgh: Black

which struck a chill into our critical hearts. Miss Hannah Moore, author of a novel with so professional a title as "Ellen Ramsay!" It cannot be, we exclaimed The History of Matthew Wald. -it has not been, we are glad to say now. The fair author of the volumes before us, differs in many respects THIS is another of that class of works to which has from her namesake. She may be as pious, but happily been given, in the excessive fondness which critics she has subdued her piety into something like rational have for classification, the name of "the minor Scotch keeping. She has not overlaid the pages of a novel Novels." It is the work of Mr. Lockhart, the youngwith homilies and exhortations, which are excellent || est and perhaps the ablest of this tribe of imitators (or things in their proper places, and are never more out of rather followers) of "the Great Unknown." He is cerplace than when mixed up with fictitious narrative and tainly a writer of very considerable power and the imaginative description. "Ellen Ramsay" is a story most marvellous versatility. We scarcely know a livof what might have occurred in real life, but which ing author who has written in so many styles-and in probably never did occur. It is purely invention. El-all, so well as Mr. Lockhart. Without possessing any len, the heroine, is the daughter of a clergyman, who having offended his father, a haughty Scotch baronet, by an imprudent marriage, retires to a small living in

large portion of the creative faculty, he has still a vast quantity of acquired knowledge, and is extremely happy in his mode of conveying it to the public. His

knowledge of modern languages and literature is far formed figure; the rich luxury of those deep-set eyesbeyond that of most professed scholars, and to his pen hovered the lofty modesty of mien that sat in the place of those lips, on which a thousand new meanings vibrated and is the public indebted for some beautiful versions of blushing bashfulness-the unconscious reserve of conscious Spanish Ballads, and an extremely spirited translation beauty-the innocent instinctive majesty of young womanof "Frederick Schlegel's Lectures,” “Valerius,” “ Adam || hood-To think of that moment almost brings boyhood Blair," and "Reginald Dalton," are his productions in again into my brain and my blood. But I know, I see your the way of novel writing, and he is known amongst his wicked smile, and I would fain take the hint if I could. "In the midst of all this romance, I heard somebody friends to be one of the smartest and most considerable|| humming some outlandish tune in the parlour; and Mrs. hands in Blackwood's Magazine. Mather said hastily, Come, Katharine, my love, we are forgetting Mr. Lascelyne. You will be ready for your

66

breakfast, Matthew?'

Matthew Wald" will not diminish the reputation of Mr. Lockhart. It is not equal as a whole to "Vale"I was the last that entered the room, and my aunt imrius" or even to "Adam Blair;" but it has passages mediately honoured me with a formal introduction to a superior to any that we remember in either. It is some- very fine gentleman, who, arrayed in a morning-gown of the most delicate chintz, and morocco slippers, was loungwhat disjointed in its narrative, and occasionally careing listlessly over a cup of chocolate and an ethereal wafer less in its sketches of character. Now and then too, a of toast, and who acknowledged his new acquaintance with little of the book-making spirit shews itself. This is, a smile and a bow, both redolent of the most condescending perhaps, one of the evils of early reputation. It fre- indifference. My spirits were rather in a flurry, but that occasional wandering of mind neither prevented my doing quently makes the clever, negligent, whilst it rarely ample justice to my breakfast, nor remarking, with surmakes the careless, diligent. "Adam Blair" and "Va-prise at first, and afterwards with a very different sort of lerius" were written with great pains, and one of the feeling, the complete ease of familiarity with which our objections to them was their excessive elaborateness. honourable youth treated my cousin. While I had barely This will never be "thrown in the face" of Matthew courage to say Katharine, behold Kate was the most respectful address his noble lips vouchsafed; and, what was Wald, who is very dégagé in his literary gait. worse, both the mother and the daughter seemed to be quite delighted with this free-and-easy-system. His very way of picking his teeth, had all the quiet loftiness of precratic in his hollow laugh. But the same proud security was visible in things that interested me far more than these. In a word, for why should I expatiate on my own humiliations, I could not help two rising suspicions from knawing my heart within me. The first of them was, that the young lord despised me; and the second, that he loved my

counsin."

Matthew Wald is the son of a cadet of a respectable Scotch family, left at an early age to the guardianship of his aunt, and the perilous companion-sumption in it. There was the quintessence of the aristoship of his young and beautiful cousin, Katharine. For some unknown cause, his father bequeaths him no larger a legacy than £1000, and leaves the whole of his estate to Katharine. His aunt marries a tall fortunehunter in the shape of a Scotch parson. Like too many of this class of persons, as they are described in modern novels, he is obsequious and hypocritical in his poverty, insolent and tyrannical in his prosperity. He treats Matthew with great cruelty, and gives a passionate and vindictive cast to his character. Matthew plays his uncle some tricks in return, and is at last sent to St. Andrew's, where he is kept during the vacations, and is treated with much neglect by his family. All this part of the story is very neatly told, though the matter itself is not of much interest.

At length, tired of his situation, and recollecting his dear cousin, he runs away from the university, and returns to his paternal residence. Here he finds his place usurped by the Hon. Mr. George Lascelyne His meeting with the family is thus described :

"Katharine had heard my voice in the lobby, and she ran out inmediately. There was such a flush on her face, and such a sweet confused flash of joy in the first glance I met, that I saw nothing but my own old Kate, and felt all my soul kindle and melt at once as I embraced her. But the moment that was over-the moment my eyes rested upon my cousin, I perceived so great a change, that I could not help wondering that had not been the first thing I did see. After gazing at her three seconds, I durst no more have offered to kiss her again, as I had just done, than to fly. From thirteen to sixteen-from a child to a woman-what a leap was here!-And such a creature, John!--I was awed into very dumbness when I contemplated the glorious, the gorgeous flower, into which my dear, quiet, little bud had expanded-the elastic, bounding, loveliness of the

"I heard voices under my window at this moment, and, peeping out, saw Mr. Lascelyne and my cousin standing together in conversation beside the dial-stone. He had aside his robe-de-chambre, and was dressed for riding. A short green frock, and tight buckskin breeches, descending, without a crease, to the middle of the leg, exhibited the perfect symmetry of his tall and graceful person. His profile was purely Greek,-nothing could surpass the bright bloom of his complexion. But it was the' easy degagé air of the coxcomb-the faultless grace of every attitude and action, that cut me deepest. I saw it all.-Fain would I have not seen it;-I tried to deceive myself;-but I could not be blind.-I saw Katharine's eye beaming upon him as he chattered to her. I watched his airy glances-I devoured their smiles. He took her gaily by the hand, and they disappeared round the corner of the house."

He is induced to believe that Katharine is attached to young Lascelyne, and in a fit of passion, resolves to go abroad. For this purpose his uncle tranfers to him his little fortune. His departure is fixed for an early hour in the morning, and is described in the following passage :—

"Never having once closed my eyes the whole night, I found when I rose, (about five o'clock,) that they were shockingly red and swollen; and the more I bathed them in my basin, the worse I thought did they look. Nay. nay,' I said to my proud self, this will never do. This part of the thing, at least, shall not be seen.'

"I put on my clothes, and crept down stairs as quietly as was possible, and found my way into the sitting-room, that