gro 66 Meeting revels and Yearly Meeting inanities spread | The two men who called on me, for the purpose of out by our authoress outdo in verisimilitude or collecting the disputed impost, were exceedingly gentle quintessential humor the proceedings of Dorcas and polite. They saw at a glance that I was an ignoFyshe and Sister Rumble, more succinctly recorded ramus, and kindly volunteered to inform me how in Hood's "Quakers' Conversazione." The other Quakers managed, for I had told them that my tesque examples of pulpit oratory, again, here profession would not allow me to pay tithes; and that if they insisted on forcibly taking away my property, gathered are not so grotesque as others which we could add. Yet this very form of appeal and though I would not resist, still I would look upon it as actual robbery.-" Did you ever pay tithes, "improvement" presented itself to Charles Lamb ma'am?" said one of the men.- "" Never," I replied. in no exclusively ridiculous point of view ;-and if 'Well, then," said he, " you are a stranger here, I he, a stranger, could feel toleration for a mode of see, and I'll just tell you how the Bristol Quakers address so whimsical and peculiar, our self-eman-manage, for I am going about among them for twenty cipated Quakeress might have pointed out the years past, and I am always glad to accommodate sound kernel as well as the rotten husk. The them, and meet their scruples. The sum you must following general remark, however, merits em- pay is one guinea; so I will call here to-morrow, at phatic extracteleven o'clock in the morning, and you just leave on the sideboard there some articles of plate-your teapot will do very well, or spoons, or whatever you likethen I will come and take it away. You don't give it, and so your conscience is clear. You will then return to your Meeting-people, that your tea-pot, worth ten guineas, was distrained for tithe and as soon after as you like, you can go to Mr. Jones, the silversmith, and tell him how you lost your tea-pot, and are obliged to buy a new one. He will condole with you; and after showing you a variety of new ones to select from, he will hand you your own identical article, and say he can sell you that cheap-say one guinea. You pay your guinea, and get your own safe back again, cleaner and brighter than ever; and, if you like, you can purchase some other little trifling article; for Mr. Jones is a very accommodating man." I was really shocked at the cool proposal of so nefarious and unprincipled a transaction, and indignantly rejected it; declaring, at the same time, my firm belief that no Quaker would be guilty of so undignified and false an act. The man smiled, and said, "Aye, that is the It is really a very difficult thing for a Quaker to be consistent with his own principles; and even the most rigid are often found swallowing them wholesale. For instance, the vain adorning of the person with dress, jewellery, and gold. He considers it a sin to indulge in those things, and yet in his shop he sells them. He makes his money by providing for the sins of his fellow-Christians. He deems it a right thing to wear a broad brim to his hat, but he has no scruple about making and selling hats of fashionable form for his fellow-Christians to wear. He would not be so wicked as to dress his servant up in livery, with a gold band, &c., but in the way of business he will do it for another. If the " peculiarities" are essential to the salvation of a Quaker, are they not also essential for all Christians? Can it be that "Friends" sell and deal in those forbidden things, because they think "the people of the world" have no chance of salvation at all, and that, therefore, it signifies but little what they indulge in, so that Friends profit by it? In the above passage is stated the cardinal diffi-way they all go on at first; but ma'am, it is a great deal the easiest and best plan in the end ;" and then culty of the Society, wherein lie the seeds of its he gave me the names of very many, my own acdecay. Such nonconformity as its statutes of dis-quaintances, who regularly, once a year, as he joencipline profess is not merely at variance with every larly said, "allowed Mr. Jones to clean their plate.' rule of nature and common sense, but, if honestly" There is old Mr. R.," said he, "has a fine massive carried out, is totally incompatible with the simplest silver tea-pot. It is always laid out ready for me; I transactions of life. The really consistent Quaker always give notice before I go; and now, twenty times who declines wearing primary colors because there I have carried it off, and got it brightened for him. is a snare in scarlet, is the elder (there was such a He values it at twenty pounds, and his tithe is only man) "who was made uneasy in his mind by the one pound ten. And there is young Mr. R. He likes sight of red clover." He can be neither a haber- me to get his spoons done for him. He gives so many dasher, nor an upholsterer, nor a toy-maker, nor a dinners, he likes to have them bright and new-lookseller of fancy goods-hardly an innkeeper or a ing." Seeing me still very incredulous, he said, "Well, ma'am, I won't call on you for a week, to give chaise proprietor. His rule is stricter than that of the strictest monastic asceticism, without the mon- week I went to old Mr. R.'s, and told his daughter you time to think about the matter." During that astery walls to shut him away from the vain world, that tithes had been demanded of me, but that I had and the religious ceremonies to supply that want not paid them, and was expecting another visit from which "knocks loud" at the heart of every human the collector." Oh! yes," said she, "this is just creature who has been born with an iota of imagi- the time they go about. They seized a valuable silver nation. The Quaker's rule is untenable; whence tea-pot from us last week. My father values it at subterfuge, compromise, evasion, unsettlement of twenty guineas, and the demand in money is only mind-pushed to its extremity. We will quote an about thirty shillings; but it is a noble testimony we instance, which is amusing in itself and amusingly are called on to bear; and I trust our faithfulness will related. The "Lady" had married-and removed yet be the means of opening the eyes of professing to Bristol.Christians to the nature of a pure, free, gospel ministry. I trust, my young Friend, thou wilt be faithful." She spoke so seriously, that I hesitated to say what I intended about Jones' shop, lest the idea that I for a moment could think her or her father capable of such a deed might offend. I then called on young Mrs. R., and mentioned the same thing to her. Soon after becoming a housekeeper, I was called on by the tithe collector. Friends annually sum up the amount of all they have lost by this suffering, as they call it; and I was then under the idea, that "our noble testimony against an hireling ministry" was an essential part of all true Christianity, and that our refusal to pay the unholy tax was an acceptable martyrdom, in a small way. I had heard much preaching on the subject, and very much self-laudation on the faithfulness of the Society generally, indeed, universally, to this our testimony, which so widely separated us from the hirelings of all other creeds. They did, indeed," said she, " take our spoons; but my William has some way or other to get them back. I can't tell how he manages; but I suppose they are ashamed of taking so much over their demand, and so return them. At any rate, they are sent back beautifully polished; and not only that, but a handsome sugar-spoon, with our crest engraved on it, was also amongst them. I suppose they were sorry, and put | Rachel seriously informed her father and mother that she had a concern' to attend the Norwich Quarterly Meeting. They had no acquaintances they cared for there, and were disinclined to take so long a journey; but Rachel became so silent and sad, and so often told them she was burdened with the weight of her concern to go, that they at length yielded to her wishes; and father and mother, Rachel and her sister Susanna, and one of the brothers, all went to NorAs the father and mother are acknowledged ministers, of course they were taken much notice of, and invited to all the Friends' houses; amongst others, to Friend Otway's and Rachel soon had the pleasure of being introduced to Sylvanus. She was delighted to find him a fine, handsome, intelligentlooking young man, and to perceive that he was decidedly fascinated with his new acquaintances; and when, at parting, he whispered to her sister, loud enough for Rachel to hear, I hope soon to be in your city, and to have the pleasure of calling at your house,' her cheek flushed with triumph, and her heart palpitated with joy at the success of her scheme. Sylvanus soon followed them, as he had promised, and proposed for Susanna. He was promptly accepted; and they were married as speedily as the rules of our Society would permit. Rachel was exceedingly vexed and disappointed; but she is not a person to be discomfited by one failure, so she resolved to try again; but she has never been friendly with Susanna since. The next on her list was Josiah Gumble, of York, and his income was six thousand. Again she informed her father, that she felt that it was required of her to attend the York Quarterly Meeting, and, she added, There is no denying the cleverness of these sketches and we are tempted to take another example-but merely for the amusement of our readers. The species of intrigue which it records is well known beyond the bounds of Quakerism-it had been borne in on her mind that the ministry only it takes here pleasant colors from the quaint and peculiar modes of life in which it is acted. of her beloved father, at that solemn assembly, would be blessed to some waiting minds.' There is nothing pleases our ministers more than flattery of their I was one evening, at a large tea party, introduced to preaching gifts. Rachel is an adept at it. I have a very beautiful young bride. She had a large figure, often found it difficult to keep my features in sober well and most gracefully formed; the roseate hue decorum when I have heard her speaking of the of her cheek, and the soft brilliancy of her downcast inward peace she had felt from the acceptable service eyes, were only equalled in beauty by the exquisitely of her much valued Friends. And then she presses fair neck, and the rich dark brown hair, banded in the hand of the minister she is flattering, with so much the smoothest Madonna style on her lofty brow. Her feeling, as she says; but they like it, and Rachel has dress was of the richest dove-colored satin; and her her own ends in view. She went to York, and soon Quaker cap, and neck-handkerchief folded in neat obtained the desired introduction to Josiah Gumble; plaits across her bosom, were of India's most costly he, too, was young, and passably well-looking; muslin. The handkerchief was attached to the dress Rachel contrived to be very much in his company; by a gold pin, with a pearl head; and the belt of her but she saw clearly that he could not be caught. She dress was fastened in front by two more gold pins, told me she had never met any man who was so coldly each with a diamond head. The bridegroom was a insensible to beauty, and so stupidly indifferent to very small, thin, awkward, ill-made man; his face flattery. However, Rachel was not disheartened; for from which every morsel of whisker had been shaved it soon came out that Josiah was the victim of an off-was white, flat, and meaningless; and his dress, unrighteous attachment to the daughter of a clergythough quite new, was badly made, and badly put man; for love of whom he deserted our Israel, and on; it was, however, a strictly Quaker costume. In is now-alas! that it should be so with his six the course of the evening I said to the lady who had thousand a year, gone over to the camp of the alien introduced me, "How ever did that mean-looking little The third on Rachel's list was John Jones, of London, man manage to get such a very lovely bride?" She her bridegroom now; he is worth about two thousand smiled, and answered, "Strange as it may seem, I a year; and, as thou must see, no beauty. When assure thee, it was Rachel who courted him, not he Rachel first saw him, she was half inclined to leave her. I will tell thee the story. About four years him for somebody else; but the next on her list is only ago, Rachel's younger sister was married; and she six hundred a year. The sacrifice was too great, and was somewhat annoyed, that she the elder, and so besides, James Lewis might be as mean-looking, so much the handsomer, should have been passed by; she resolved on the conquest of John Jones. It was so she resolved to provide herself with a husband; and very easily accomplished, he made no resistance, he thou knowest when a woman makes up her mind to do at once became the worshipper of her beauty; and a thing, she triumphs over every obstacle. Rachel's now that they are married, I think it will be her own first step was to draw out a list of the names of the eli- fault if she is not happy. He is not very wise, but gible young men ; opposite to each name she placed the he is good-humored and good-natured."—" How didst amount of his annual income, as correctly as she could thou become acquainted with this amusing story?" ascertain it. The most wealthy was placed at the top said I. "Is it not a breach of confidence to tell it?" of the list, and so on in regular gradation. She had-" No, indeed," she replied, "there were more than twelve names down. They lived in all parts of England; one in London, one in York, one in Bristol, and so on. Sylvanus Otway was at the head of the list. She had never seen him, and he lived near Norwich. He was down for seven thousand a year. a dozen of us in the room when she told it herself, and showed us the list; she said she did not want it now, so she gave it to Martha Elton, and bade her give a copy of it to any of the girls who would like to try the same plan of getting settled in life." Here is an anecdote of the regency, which will compared with the Frank, the Teuton, and the be new to many of our readers : I was shown, in the Women's Meeting-room, the seat on which his Majesty, King George IV., when Prince Regent, had for a moment placed himself, when, led by the spirit of adventure, and, as my informant stated, a most unbecoming curiosity, he had, disguised as a woman Friend, made his way into the secret conclave. His dress was all right; a gray silk gown, a brown cloth shawl, a little white silk handkerchief, with hemmed edge, round his neck, and a very wellpoked Friend's bonnet, with the neatly crimped border of his clear muslin cap tied under the chin, completed the disguise, in which he might have escaped detection very well, were it not for the tell-tale boots, and the unfeminine position in which the arms and legs bestowed themselves. The young woman who sat behind him, and saw the heel protruding from its silken robe, slipt quietly out of meeting, and gave the alarm. Two men Friends were speedily summoned, and the royal intruder felt himself gently tapped on the shoulder, and requested to walk into another He made no resistance, but quietly went away; and receiving the usual notice, that the rules of the Society would not allow any but members to be present, he retired, and, calling a hackney coach, drove off, perhaps flattering himself that his incognito had not been penetrated; for although his countenance had been instantly recognized, still nothing was room. said to intimate that it had been so. Resolute that none but the initiated should be present, they were yet careful to treat with courtesy their most unexpected visitant, and even deferentially to respect his assumed character. THE ANGLO-SAXON RACE. FIFTY-THREE millions! Two centuries ago there were not quite three millions of this race on the face of the earth. There are a million more persons of Magyar descent, speaking the Magyar language, at the present moment in Europe, than there were in Europe and America of this conquering and colonizing people in the time of Cromwell. How vain, then, for men to talk of the political necessity for absorbing small races! Sixty years ago the Anglo-Saxon race did not exceed 17,000,000 in Europe and America. At that time it was not numerically stronger than the Poles. Thirty years ago it counted only thirty-four millions; being altogether only three millions and a fraction more than the population of France at that timeand considerably less than the Teutonic population of Central Europe. In 1851 it is ahead of every civilized race in the world. Of races lying within the zones of civilization, the Sclaves alone are more numerous, counted by heads; but comparatively few of this plastic and submissive stock have yet escaped from the barbarism of the dark ages. In wealth, energy, and cultivation, they are not to be *In copying the extracts here given, we must take occasion to say that we have had much knowledge of the Society of Friends, and can testify that we never knew of such doings in this country.-Liv. Age. Anglo-Saxon. Number is almost their only element of strength. Of all the races which are now striving for the mastery of the world-to impress on the future of society and civilization the stamp of its own character and genius-to make its law, idiom, religion, manners, government, and opinion prevail-the Anglo-Saxon is now unquestionably the most numerous, powerful, and active. The day when it might possibly have been crushed, absorbed, or trampled out, like Hungary and Poland, by stronger hordes, is gone by forever. That it was possible at one time for this people to be subdued by violence or to fall a prey to the slower agonies of decline, there can be little doubt. In 1650, the United Provinces seemed more likely to make a grand figure in the world's future history than England. Their wealth, activity, and maritime power were the most imposing in Europe. They had all the carrying trade of the west in their hands. Their language was spoken in every port. In the great Orient their empire was fixed and their influence paramount. England was then hardly known abroad. Her difficult idiom grated on foreign ears, and her stormy coasts repelled the curiosity of more cultivated travellers. Had the thought of a day arriving when any single European language would be spoken by millions of persons, scattered over the great continents of the earth from New Zealand to the Hebrides and from the Cape of Storms to the Arctic ocean, occurred to any speculative mind-Dutch, not English, would probably have been the tongue to which he would have assigned the marvellous mission. Yet Holland has fallen nearly as much as the Saxon has risen in the scale of nations. Her idiom is now acquired by few. Her merchants conduct their correspondence and transact their business in French or in English. Even her writers have many of them clothed their genius in a foreign garb. On the other hand, our literature and language have passed entirely out of this phase of danger. Dutch, like Welsh, Flemish, Erse, Basque, and other idioms, is doomed to perish as an intellectual medium; but whatever may be the future changes of the world, the tongue of Shakspeare and of Bacon is now too firmly rooted ever to be torn away. No longer content with mere preservation, it aims at universal mastery. Gradually it is taking possession of all the ports and coasts of the world; isolating all rival idioms-shutting them up from intercourse with each other-making itself the channel of every communication. hundred points at once it plays the aggressor. It contends with Spanish on the frontiers of Mexicodrives French and Russian before it in Canada and in the northern Archipelago-supersedes Dutch at the Cape and Natal-elbows Greek and Italian at Malta and in the Ionian islands-usurps the right of Arabic at Suez and Alexandria-maintains itself supreme at Liberia, Hong Kong, Jamaica, and St. Helena-fights its way against multitudinous and various dialects in the Rocky Mountains, in Central America, on the Gold Coast, in the interior of Australia, and among the countless islands of the eastern seas. No other language is spreading in this way. French and German find students among cultivated men; but English permanently destroys and supersedes the idioms with which it comes in contact. At a The relative growth of the two great AngloSaxon States is noteworthy. In 1801, the population of Great Britain was 10,942,646; in 1800. that of the United States was 5,319,762-or not quite half. In 1850, the population of the United | upon the last occasion. The lecturer has improved States is two millions and a third more than that his position, and instead of standing at the side of of Great Britain in 1851-at this moment it prob- the room, his tribune is placed at the further exably excee is it by three millions. The rate of tremity, so that he faces the whole of his audience. decenuial increase in this country is less than 15 The subject of yesterday's lecture was Richard per cent.-while in America it is about 35 per Steele. Mr. Thackeray artfully bespoke a preparacent. In the great continental States the rate is tion to look indulgently on the faults and follies of considerably lower than in England. According Steele, by an elaborated introduction, in which he to the progress of the last fifty years in France and dwelt with much ingenious minuteness upon the in America, the United States will have the larger intolerability of perfection, even could it be found population in 1870-in 1900, they will exceed those to exist in man. Showing that nature had intended of England, France, Spain, Portugal, Denmark, that we should all have our faults, and that some Sweden, and Switzerland combined. Prudent of them were positive advantages-selfishness, for statesmen should bear these facts in mind. Many example, which actually made us good fathers, persons now alive may see the time when America husbands, lovers, and friends-he proceeded to deal will be of more importance to us, socially, commer- with the character of a writer who certainly "had cially, and politically, than all Europe put together. his faults." Old diplomatic traditions will go for little in the face of a transatlantic power numbering 100,000,000 of free and energetic men of our own race and blood. The American returns exhibit to us another extremely interesting feature-the process by which nature herself is gradually, working out the vexed question of slavery. Every one is aware that in the United States political power is based on population. With them the taking of a census is a political event of serious importance; as according to the return of living souls in each State, its congressional rank is regulated. Every ten years some changes are made in the distribution of power. Votes are taken from one State and transferred to another. Power instantly passes to the most prosperous. In looking to the future, it is therefore necessary to observe which States are growing fastest-which slowest. The present number of slave States is fifteen-of free States sixteen. These numbers are fixed; but the number of representatives which they are severally entitled to send to Washington is continually varying. The arrangements following on the return of the new census cause a difference of six votes on the slave question-three votes having been transferred from the almost stationary slave States to their more wealthy and thriving rivals. And in twenty years from this time, the slave-holders promise to be in a considerable minority in the House of Representatives by the laws of their own constitution. Before then the ballot-box-if no revolution should intervene-will have quietly settled the peculiar institution, even if no change of opinion should occur in the south itself. There is another hopeful view of the question. As the total number of representatives is limited, votes are continually passing from the old States on the Atlantic to the new States which arise every decade on the western border. The latter are mostly free States. By these transfers the anti-slavery cause will have gained eleven votes in five sessions. While the law of progress remains in favor of freedom these peaceful but certain encroachments will continue. If the United States hold together a score of years longer, slavery must in the natural course of things be abolished. The law itself provides a calm solution of the difficulty. The lecturer described Steele as a thick-set, square-faced, black-eyed Charterhouse boy, always kindly, good-natured and idle; when he could, getting other boys to do his exercises for him-when he could not, getting whipped because they were not done. And as Mr. Thackeray surmised, (but candidly admitted that he could not prove the fact,) Steele, on the principle that the boy is father of the man, must at this period have been in pecuniary embarrassment with the tart man, and deep in the lollipop vender's books. He went on to sketch Steele's further career, and alluded to his looking up to Addison, throughout life, as his "head boy. Steele was entered at college, but threw up cap and gown, and went into the Life Guards, with which regiment he must have been reviewed in Hyde Park by King William in November, 1699. He could have seen no service, however, or he would have described it, as he did every incident in his life. He was patronized by Lord Čutts, and sedulously supported the Hanoverian cause. He wrote the "Christian Hero," for which, or rather for the inconsistency of which with his own conduct, he was a good deal laughed at by his friends. In fact, he was always sinning and repenting, always crying over his sins till crying made him thirsty, and then drinking a great deal too much to drown his thirst. The lecturer drew an amusing picture of Steele whimpering over his writings, but, on receiving a drawer's message that some jovial friends were waiting him at the tavern, taking down his laced hat to join them, and telling his wife and family a lie about the important business that called him away. Mr. Thackeray suggested that the first meeting between Addison and Steele, after they had become men, and the former was a proud, needy student, and the latter a swaggering, kind-hearted captain of horse, would make a good subject for a painter. In 1703, Steele brought out his "Tender Husband;" and in the following year, his "Lying Lover," which latter was damnedSteele said, because it was too moral; the town said, because it was too stupid. He was knighted by George I., obtained a commissionership of taxes and other good things, but was too indolent to grasp at the golden opportunity offered him by the accession of the man whom he had served so well. His early papers in the "Tatler" might compare with Addison's; and in 1711, when the "SpectaMR. THACKERAY'S THIRD LECTURE. tor" appeared, he was its editor; after which he was connected with the "Englishman," the "LovMR. THACKERAY's third lecture (which had been er," the " Reader," and many other less famous postponed from the Thursday in the Ascot week, periodicals. Twice married, he outlived both his in accordance with the wishes of many of the sub-wives, and, nearly forgotten, he died on some small scribers) was delivered on Thursday afternoon. property he possessed in Wales, in 1729. The audience was as large and as distinguished as Mr. Thackeray, adverting to the character of the name of Aspasia. The two had become one in our recollection, which we failed to refresh by a reference to those valuable tables of contents prefixed to the British Essayists, in which we should have found the respective contributions of Steele and Congreve described with perfect accuracy. We may add that, in the expression of an admiration most earnest yet most respectful and delicate, Congreve's paper is not inferior to that of Steele-to whose character, let us also not omit to say, we think that Mr. Thackeray paid a most delightful and genial tribute by his lecture of Thursday.-Examiner. LOVE! BY THE AUTHOR OF 66 SILENT LOVE." poem was a remarkable one. The history of this The author, James and was born in the Steele's writings, declared that he ought to be a favorite with all women, for he was the first writer who admired and respected them. Congreve treated woman as a thing to be complimented and conquered; Swift deemed her a fool; and even Addison regarded her but as a pretty creature, to be humored and very gently tutored, as one would teach a child. But Steele did homage to her understanding, as well as to her tenderness and beauty. He cited the delicate and witty compliment paid by Steele to a lady whom Congreve had also admired "To have loved her was a liberal education." One of the most authoritative of Mr. Thackeray's critics-and one, by the way, who seldom makes a blunder-asked the lecturer why, in speaking of Congreve, he did not quote this as one of Congreve's mots? Mr. Thackeray quietly answered the question yesterday, by attributing the phrase to its right owner. He then remarked at some length upon Steele's letters to his wife, which were carefully preserved by the latter, and disclosed the whole reckless, uncertain, uncomfortable tenor of his life-his royal roystering, surrounded by dirty sheriffs' officers, and his remarkable inaptitude for paying rent. But Mr. Thackeray dwelt with still more earnestness upon Steele's humanity, goodnature, and general sensibility, and described him year 1749; he was the only son of his parents, who as the first of the writers of that species of senti- were of the middle rank of life. He received a good ment of which Sterne and Dickens have made such education in his native town, and then went to Glasgood use. He liked him better than many men gow College, to study the profession of physic. There and better authors. Many things he said and did he remained until the death of his father, after which were irreconcilable with our habits; but then the he was withdrawn from college, and commenced busihabits of the age (when young beauties took snuffness as an apothecary, in which he succeeded, and and eat with their knives) were very shocking, and was enabled to realize a small independence, on which in proof of this Mr. Thackeray drew a very clever he retired, and lived with his mother until her death. picture-one of the best things in the lecture-of His nephew, in the short biographical memoir prethe way in which fashionable people of that period fixed to the poem of "Silent Love," goes on to state spent their time. He derived his information from that "he was long observed to look solitary; he Swift's inimitable "Polite Conversation," and the had scarcely a companion; and it was thought that details were admirably worked up. We may as well remark, however, that it had never before some disappointment in love was the cause; but, as occurred to us to take the description in this "art" he had no confidant, the matter was never revealed. quite sine grano, and that, as regards the vast ban- He was then in his thirty-fifth year, and betook himquet of the party, we think Swift would just as self to travelling, and after many years he returned, readily have dashed upon the table a dish of black-and stayed with my mother in Causewayside-street. puddings or a goose, if either would lead to a joke I was young at the time, and can only remember that from Tom Neveront or Lady Smart, as he intro- he was my companion-had a good disposition—could duced "a child running in screaming" in order to give "Miss" an opportunity of wishing to whip it till the blood came, and declaring, threateningly, that "if she were near it, she would n't be far off it." However, the general truth of the sketch is no doubt, undeniable; and Mr. Thackeray's fashionable audience were delighted with this insight. into the ways of their illustrious ancestors. He concluded with a recapitulation of the leading points in Steele's careless kindly life, and begged the audience (who, he suggested with a gentle irony, were never guilty of any irregularities or shortcomings at all) to think well of the memory of Dick Steele. The warmest applause greeted the lecturer throughout the address, and at its conclusion. Morning Chronicle. Mr. Thackeray is right in attributing to Steele the charming expression which we had claimed for Congreve. A few words will show the origin of our mistake, into which the last and best biographer of Congreve seems also to have fallen. The Tatler published within a few weeks two papers on the character of Lady Elizabeth Hastings, Lord Huntingdon's daughter. The "forty-second" was written by Congreve, the "forty-ninth" by Steele; and in both the enchanting subject was sketched under sing well, and read much. He also wrote occasionally, but we never knew what; and at last he grew so morose, particularly when among strangers, that no one could elicit the thoughts of his mind. In the autumn of 1806 he fell into a speedy decline, and died on the 7th of March, 1807, leaving still the history of his love a sealed letter; and the name of his fair one is now a secret forever.” It appears from the poem, which was brought to light long after his death, that he had, in the course of his life, entertained a secret passion for a young woman, which engrossed his whole being, and gave a color to his entire future life. It may have been a hopeless passion; it was a concealed one, for he does not seem ever to have revealed his love to the object herself. Strange the power of one thrilling glance from a human eye, that it should thus transfix another being, and enchain his thoughts for life! Yet such appears to have been the case here. This man loved tenderly, passionately, hopelessly-poured out his life in one long sigh-and went to the grave, taking his secret with him. The little poem, which his nephew has since given to the world, is an extremely graceful and touching production, and, though never |