with the most out-of-the-way articles the eccentric hostess could procure; while the inventor of this novel kind of plaisanterie was silently enjoying the joke of their distress. Gentlemen were seen in every direction, running about with teapots in their hands, or trays under their arms, endeavouring to find some sly corner, in which to deposit their prizes; while young ladies were sinking beneath the weight, or the shame, of carrying a coal-scuttle or a flat-iron. Guinea-pigs, birds in cages, punchbowls, watchmen's rattles, and Dutch-ovens, were perplexing their fortunate, or, as perhaps they considered themselves, unfortunate proprietors ; and Lady Cork's raffle was long remembered by those who were present as a scene of laughter and confusion." Had Lord Brougham been apprized of the following anecdote, we think he would have made use of it in his dialogue with Lord Althorp, concerning the instincts and intelligence of the brute creation. The Highlands of Scotland is the locality alluded to : "About ten days ago, one of the farm-keepers' wives was going homewards through the woods when she saw a roebuck running towards her with great speed. Thinking that it was going to attack her with its horns, she was considerably alarmed; but, at the distance of a few paces, the animal stopped and disappeared among the bushes. The woman recovered herself, and was proceeding on her way, when the roebuck appeared again, ran towards her as before, and again retreated without doing her any harm. On this being done a third time, the woman was induced to follow it till it led her to the side of a deep ditch, in which she discovered a young roebuck unable to extricate itself, and on the point of being smothered in the water. The woman immediately endeavoured to rescue it, during which the other roebuck stood by quietly, and as soon as her exertions were successful, the two animals galloped away together. Now, this is really a matter of fact; and if all matters of fact were as pretty, I should think it quite superfluous to read romances, and much more to write them." Before leaving the Highlands, we may as well take a glimpse of another visitor as drawn by a master hand : "Mrs. T. Sheridan is also here at present, very pretty, very sensible, amiable, and gentle: indeed, so gentle, that Tom insists upon it that her extreme quietness and tranquillity is a defect in her character. Above all, he accuses her of such an extreme apprehension of giving trouble (he says), it amounts to absolute affectation. He affirms that, when the cook has forgotten her duty, and no dinner is prepared, Mrs. Sheridan says, Oh! pray don't get dinner on purpose for me; I'll take a dish of tea instead: and he declares himself certain, that if she were to set her clothes on fire, she would step to the bell very quietly, and say to the servant, with great gentleness and composure, Pray, William, is there any water in the house?' No madam; but I can soon get some.' Oh! dear no; it does not signify; I dare say the fire will go out of itself!'" We have not thought it necessary to trace chronologically, or even to mention the titles of the works written by Lewis ; much less to quote any specimens of the pieces that now appear for the first time in print. In connection with his productions and temporary popularity, we rather present an anecdote. "The Castle Spectre" is the piece alluded to: "The terrors inspired by the spectre were not confined to Drury Lane; but, as the following anecdote shows, on one occasion they even extended considerably beyond it. Mrs. Powell, who played Evelinahaving become, from the number of representations, heartily tired and wearied with the character-one evening, on returning from the theatre, walked listlessly into a drawing-room, and throwing herself into a seat, exclaimed, Oh, this ghost! this ghost! Heavens! how the ghost torments me!' 'Ma'am' uttered a tremulous voice, from the other side of the table. Mrs. Powell looked up hastily. Sir!' she reiterated in nearly the same tone, as she encountered the pale countenance of a very sober-looking gentleman opposite. What-what was it you said, madam?' Really, sir,' replied the astonished actress, I have not the pleasure of Why, good heavens, what have they been about in the room?' Madam!' continued the gentleman, the room is mine, and I will thank you to explain-' Yours!' screamed Mrs. Powell; surely, sir, this is Number 1.' No, indeed, madam,' he replied: this is Number 2 and, really, your language is so very extraordinary, that Mrs. Powell, amidst her confusion, could scarcely refrain from laughter. • Ten thousand pardons!' she said. The coachman must have mistaken the house. I am Mrs. Powell, of Drury Lane, and have just come from performing the Castle Spectre.' Fatigue and absence of mind have made me an unconscious intruder. I lodge next door, and I hope you will excuse the unintentional alarm I have occasioned you.' It is almost needless to add, that the gentleman was much relieved by this rational explanation, and participated in the mirth of his nocturnal visiter, as he politely escorted her to the street-door. 'Good night,' said the still laughing actress; and I hope, sir, in future, I shall pay more attention to number one." · It has been noted that persons of the most cheerful temperament have written the most melancholy and pathetic stories, and that Cowper, for example, on the other hand, beguiled despair by sending his fancy upon the most laughter moving excursions. From passages in the volume before us, it is with pleasure that we see demonstrated, that although Lewis appears from his works to have gloated over horrors and revolting crimes, yet that virtue, poverty, and frail humanity attracted his active and real sympathies. There was here no licentiousness of fancy or extravagance of wordy zeal. Behold him on his way to a fashionable watering-place, and for a short time in a small country town, where a company of strolling players happened to be located for the time:: "Among them was a young actress, whose benefit was on the tapis, and who, on hearing of the arrival of a person so talked of as Monk Lewis, waited upon him at the inn, to request the very trifling favour of an original piece from his pen. The lady pleaded in terms that urged the spirit of benevolence to advocate her cause in a heart never closed to such appeal. Lewis had by him at that time an unpublished trifle, called The Hindoo Bride,' in which a widow was immolated on the funeral pile of her husband. The subject was one well suited to attract a country audience, and he determined thus to appropriate the drama. The delighted suppliant departed all joy and gratitude, at being requested to call for the MS. the next day. Lewis, however, soon discovered that he had been reckoning without his host, for on searching the travelling. desk which contained many of his papers, The Bride' was nowhere to be found, having, in fact, been left behind in town. Exceedingly annoyed by this circumstance, which there was no time to remedy, the dramatist took a pondering stroll through the rural environs of BA sudden shower obliged him to take refuge within a huckster's shop, where the usual curtained half-glass door in the rear opened to an adjoining apartment: from this room he heard two voices in earnest conversation, and in one of them recognised that of his theatrical petitioner of the morning, apparently replying to the feebler tones of age and infirmity: There now, mother, always that old story-When I've just brought such good news too;-after I've had the face to call on Mr. Monk Lewis, and found him so different to what I expected; so goodhumoured, so affable, and willing to assist me. I did not say a word about you, mother; for though in some respects it might have done good, I thought it would seem so like a begging affair; so I merely represented my late ill-success, and he promised to give me an original drama, which he had with him, for my benefit. I hope he did not think me too bold !' I hope not, Jane,' replied the feeble voice, only don't to these things again without consulting me; for you don't know the world, and it may be thought- The sun just then gave a broad hint that the shower had ceased, and the sympathizing author returned to his inn, and having penned the following letter, ordered post-horses and despatched a porter to the young actress, with the epistle. · "Madam,-I am truly sorry to acquaint you that my Hindoo Bride' has behaved most improperly-in fact, whether the lady has eloped or not, it seems she does not choose to make her appearance, either for your benefit or mine: and to say the truth, I don't at this moment know where to find her. I take the liberty to jest upon the subject, because I really do not think you will have any cause to regret her non-appearance; having had an opportunity of witnessing your very admirable performance of a far superior character, in a style true to nature, and which reflects upon you the highest credit. I allude to a most interesting scene, in which you lately sustained the character of The Daughter!' Brides, of all denominations, but too often prove their empire delusive; but the character you have chosen will improve upon every representation, both in the estimation of the public, and the satisfaction of your own excellent heart. For the infinite gratification I have received, I must long consider myself in your debt. Trusting you will permit the enclosed (fifty pounds) in some measure to discharge the same, "I remain, Madam, And now for the last scene of all in which the sensitive and amiable Lewis acted. The account is by a lady who was a passenger along with him, as he was returning homewards from the West Indies : "I last saw Mr. Lewis about nine on the same evening, before I retired for the night, and promised to call out, to those who were watching, in the outward cabin, the half-hours when he was to have a medicine given him. I did so. At two o'clock I heard him say, Thank you, thank you!' All that night his groans were dreadful; I could only lie in my berth and listen to them, for illness rendered me powerless. By degrees, his moanings subsided into low convulsive sobs; they grew fainter and fainter, and became calmed into a breathing, as though the sufferer slept. I was worn out, and lost all consciousness. From this state of stupor (for I can hardly call it sleep), I was roused by the steward, at a little past four on the morning of the 14th of May, calling me by my name. He came to inform me that Mr. Lewis was no more.' It seemed he had requested to be left undisturbed, and appeared inclined to sleep when the last dose of medicine was administered, and the watchers remained in the outward cabin, leaving the door of his berth ajar. All continued still for some time: at four o'clock the steward approached, and thought he slept; he described him as lying with his head a little thrown back on the pillow, his arms crossed upon his breast, as though attempting to suppress some internal convulsive feeling. The man approached his ear to the sleeper's lips to listen to his breathing, but that sleep was death; and, in a slumber, gentle as the rest of childhood, the worn-out spirit had passed away for ever!" 6 "We commit our brother to the deep," was soon after literally fulfilled, and the account proceeds thus : "Never shall I forget the sound of the splashing waters, as for an instant, the ingulfing wave closed over his remains! :: 'Oh! that sound did knock The coffin, encased in his shroudlike hammock, rose again almost immediately the end of the hammock having become unfastened, and the weights which had been enclosed escaping, the wind getting under the canvass acted as a sail, and the body was slowly borne down the current away from us, in the direction of Jamaica. I remained on deck straining my eyes to watch, as it floated on its course, the last narrow home of him who had, indeed, been my friend; till, nearly blinded by my tears, and the distance that was gradually placed between the vessel and the object of my gaze, it became as a speck upon the waters, and-I saw it no more." 61 ART. VIII.-Odious Comparisons; or, The Cosmopolite in England. By J. RICHARD BEST, ESQ. 2 vols. 12mo. London: Saunders and Otley. MR. BEST has spent a great part of his life on the continent. He is known as the author of "Transalpine Memoirs," and some other works, in which he proves himself skilled in foreign languages, and not an inattentive observer of men, manners, and scenery, which to homebred and untravelled Englishmen present novelty and matter for speculation. In the publication before us, we have many sketches of a similar kind, though the pervading purpose is to bring forward the parallelisms as they appear to him to exist in England and to compare them with the foreign; for though a native of England, so much of his training occurred abroad, and so much of his time was there passed, that on his return to our shores, he viewed all that came in his way, and everything that was done differently, as he supposes, from every one else, whether native or foreigner; the impressions, the changes to which his mode of judging were subject, and his later convictions being candidly described. We hardly think, however, that the title "Cosmopolite" can be legitimately adopted by our author. For the most part the sketches in these volumes are superficial and unoriginal. The tone, too, of satire that pervades the work, and something that frequently looks like an affectation of style and sentiment, scarcely accords with the appellation. Besides, Mr. Best displays a very strong and zealous adherence to certain creeds, political and religious, which are neither generally entertained among some of the most enlightened nations and classes, nor altogether tolerant, as the reader is obliged to discover rather from the spirit than the actual expression of the writer. His zeal as a Catholic, and his opinions about the ballot, might have been more agreeably indicated. Then there is a concomitant trait of egotism, while the occasions of its exhibition are not always of the most dignified order, as witness the details of eating and drinking belonging to different countries. In each and all of the respects now referred to, we find Mr. Best but half a cosmopolitan when compared with Dr. Cumming. He is neither such a discerning, considerate, nor liberal man of the world. His experience has been much more limited; his grounds of decision were much more shallow. The Scotchman is the more catholic of the two. Still there are striking points in these volumes, some of which Mr. Best has turned to good account; although, the reflecting and philosophic reader will more frequently find himself induced to pursue a train of speculation upon a bare or inadequately handled text, than be satisfied with the author's use of it. A few specimens may enable our readers to test our criticism. But first of all we are |