We cannot ascribe to him the bright eyes of Lavoisier, of Davy, and of Liebig; for what he saw, however great, seemed to him so simple, so natural. The awe and majesty of Nature's laws first seen, did not affect him to rhapsody, and we may either call it greatness or weakness, as we feel inclined. Both qualities are respected by nature, both have their types in creation; the monotonous movement of the earth round its axis for the one, and the sudden glare of day on the dark night marks the other; the one a continuous, unexcited movement, pleasing but not joyful; the other a succession of rapid and great changes, in which the whole man is at one time deep in darkness and in sorrow, walking through the valley of the shadow of death; at another, scarcely able to support the excess of joy, for nature seems all gloriousness, and earth a constant round of thrilling joys. Some would prefer the quiet repose of the simple "Naturforscher,,' Dalton. From Frazer's Magazine. R. S. Wit and satire have done much to keep her down. Pope has placed her works in the library of his Dunciad hero: "Here swells the shelf with Ogilby the great, There, stamp'd with arms, Newcastle shines complete." And Horace Walpole, a far inferior poet to the duchess, endeavored to turn to ridicule, not the duchess only, but the duke-to do for the names of Cavendish and Lucas what he had attempted to do for Sydney and for Falkland. But Walpole, who affected a singularity of opinion, raised a laugh, and a laugh only; there is too much good sense in the duchess's writings, and too much to love about her character, to deprive her altogether of admirers. Charles Lamb delighted in her works; Sir Egerton Brydges showed his respect for her genius by reprinting, at his private press, her own little, delightful autobiography, to which he appended a selection of her poems. And Mr. Dyce, who has as much good taste as variety of knowledge, is too well acquainted with her writings to dislike them; and, fresh from "Greek and Latin stores," can yet return to her pages with renewed enjoyment, and lose nothing in a reperusal of the complete works of the Duchess of New MARGARET LUCAS, DUCHESS OF NEW-castle. CASTLE. As if certain that some day or other the curiosity of after-ages would be extended "The whole story of this lady is a romance, and to her own personal history, the duchess all she does is romantic."-PEPYS. drew up A True Relation of her Birth, Breeding, and Life-the too short but charming piece of autobiography we have already referred to. Her father was Sir Thomas Lucas, of St. John's, near Colchester, in Essex; her mother's maidenname was Elizabeth Leighton. Margaret was born about the year 1626. WHEN Waller was shewn some verses by the Duchess of Newcastle, On the Death of a Stag, he declared that he would give all his own compositions to have written them; and being charged with the exorbitance of his adulation, answered, "That nothing was too much to be given that a lady might be saved from the disgrace of such a vile performance." This was said by the courtly Waller of the thrice noble, illustrious, and excellent princess, as she calls herself, Margaret Lucas, the wife of the thrice-noble, high, and puissant prince, William Cavendish, duke, marquis, and earl of Newcastle. But the worth of all the poems by the Duchess of Newcastle is not to be tested by her poem on the death of a stag; nor should her abilities be look-ways deformed; neither were they dwarfish, ed meanly upon through the contemptuous smartness of a happy remark.* By the way, Waller has a copy of verses O the Head of a Stag, far below even the middle level of the duchess's genius) "My father," she says, was a gentleman, which title is grounded and given by merit, not by princes. He had a large estate. He lived happily and died peaceably, leaving a wife and eight children, three sons and five daughters, I being the youngest he had, and an infant when he died."" Of her brothers she says: "There was not any one crooked or any or of a giant-like stature, but every ways proportionable, likewise well-featured, clear complexions, brown hairs, but some lighter than others; sound teeth, eweet breaths, plain speeches, tunable voices-I mean not so much to sing as in speaking, as not stuttering or wharling in the throat, or speaking through companied by her youthful attendant, left, the nose, or hoarsely (unless they had a cold). in 1643, the shores of England for the or squeakingly, which impediments many court of the French king. In April, 1645, "How they were bred," for she has herself recorded the period, have." she continues, she was too young to recollect; "but this I know, that they loved virtue, endeavored merit, practised justice, and spoke truth." "Their practice was, when they met together, to exercise themselves with fencing, wrestling, shooting, and such-like exercises, for I observed they did seldom hawk or hunt, and very seldom or never dance, or play on music, saying it was too effeminate for masculine spirits; neither had they skill, or did use to play, for aught I could hear, at cards or dice, or the like games, nor given to any vice, as I did know, unless to love a mistress were a crime; not that I knew any they had, but what report did say, and usually reports are false, at least exceed the truth." Of these brothers, one became the first Lord Lucas; the youngest was the Sir Charles Lucas, whose melancholy but heroic end is told so affectingly by Lord Clarendon. "He had," says his sister, "a superfluity of courage." Her own breeding, she says, was according to her birth and the nature of her sex. Her mother, of whom she speaks in the highest and most affectionate terms,— Margaret Lucas had the good fortune to see the Marquis of Newcastle for the first time. This nobleman, whose name for loyalty deserves to be proverbial, had come to Paris to tender his humble duty to the queen. The fight at Marston Moor, that ill-fated field to King Charles, had been fought some ten months before; and Newcastle, seeing the utter hopelessness of the king's cause and the complete exhaustion of his own finances, had resigned his command, and retired to the Continent. "And after," says the duchess, "he had stayed at Paris some time, he was pleased to take some particular notice of me, and express more than an ordinary affection for me; insomuch that he resolved to choose me for his second wife; and though I did dread marriage, and shun men's companies as much as I could, yet I could not, nor had I the power to refuse him, by reason my affections were fixed on him, and he was the only person I ever was in love with. Neither was I ashamed to own it, but gloried therein, for it was not amorous love; I never was infected there with; it is a disease, or a passion, or both I only know by "Never suffered the vulgar serving-men to relation, not by experience: neither could tibe in the nursery amongst the nurse-maids, lest tle, wealth, power, or person entice me to love; their rude love-making might do unseemly ac- but my love was honest and honorable, being tions, or speak unhandsome words in the pre-placed upon merit, which affection joyed at sence of her children. As for the pastimes of my sisters," she says, and their pastimes were her own, when they were in the country, it was to read, work, walk, and discourse with each other. Commonly, they lived half the year in London. Their customs were, in winter time, to go sometimes to plays, or to ride in their coaches about the streets, to see the concourse and recourse of people; and, in the spring-time, to visit the Spring Garden, Hyde Park, and the like places; and sometimes they would have music, and sup in barges upon the water; these harmless recreations they would pass their time away with; for, I observed, they did seldom make visits, nor ever went abroad with strangers in their company, but only themselves in a flock together; agreeing so well that there seemed but one mind amongst them." the fame of his worth, pleased with delight in The widower of fifty-two prevailed with the fearful maiden of twenty-one,-they were married. "A poct am I neither born nor bred, Margaret was a mere girl in her teens when she went to Oxford to become one of the maids of honor to Henrietta Maria; an office, she tells us, she had a great desire to she was wont to say in after life, and cerfill, and to which she "wooed and won "tainly the Marquis of Newcastle was not her mother's consent to her seeking and without pretensions to literature; his comaccepting. But in the then disturbed state edies are bustling pieces of intrigue and of the three countries, Oxford was not long wit, characteristic of his age, and very a place for Henrietta; and the queen, ac-readable; at least we have found them so. did." It was at this time that the duchess went His lyrical attempts are sad failures. He was forced at one time to tell him, 'That he was the munificent patron and friend of was not able to provide a dinner for him, for Ben Jonson and Sir William Davenant, and his creditors were resolved to trust him no lonlived long enough to succor Shadwell and ger.' Turning to his wife, he said, that I must befriend Dryden. of necessity pawn my clothes to make so much money as would procure a dinner. I answered that my clothes would be but of small val"He was," says Clarendon, "a very fine gen-ne, and therefore desired my waiting-maid, tleman, active, and full of courage, and most Miss Chaplain, to pawn some small toys, which accomplished in those qualities of horseman-I had formerly given her, which she willingly ship, dancing, and fencing, which accompany a good breeding, in which his delight was. Besides that he was amorous in poetry and music, to which he indulged the greatest part to England with her husband's only brother, of his time; and nothing could have tempted him out of those paths of pleasure, which he Sir Charles Cavendish, to try and extract enjoyed in a full and ample fortune, but honor some money from the implacable Indepenand ambition to serve the king when he saw dents. The confiscated estates were at him in distress, and abandoned by most of those auction to any that would buy them, free, who were in the highest degree obliged to him it was said, of any incumbrance, but the and by him." "He liked," Clarendon claims, and they were either few or rejected, adds, "the pomp and absolute authority of a of the wives and children of the old posgeneral well, and preserved the dignity of it to the full; and for the discharge of the out-sessors. ward state and circumstances of it, in acts of courtesy, affability, bounty, and generosity, he abounded; which, in the infancy of a war, became him, and made him, for some time, very acceptable to men of all conditions. But the substantial part and fatigue of a general he did not, in any degree, understand (being utterly unacquainted with war), nor could submit to, but referred all matters of that nature to the discretion of his lieutenant-general King, a Scotchman. In all actions of the field he was still present, and never absent in any battle; in Even royalty itself was in a more reall which he gave instances of an invincible duced condition; and the duchess relates courage and fearlessness in danger; in which a saying of Charles the Second's to her, the exposing himself notoriously did sometimes when dining privately at the table of her change the fortune of the day, when his troops lord, when his funds were at their lowest, begun to give ground. Such articles of action were no sooner over than he retired to his "That he perceived my lord's credit could delightful company, music; or his sofier plea-procure better meat than his own." sures, to all which he was so indulgent; and to his ease, that he would not be interrupted upon what occasion soever; insomuch as he sometimes denied admission to the chiefest officers of the army, even to General King himself, for two days together, from whence many inconveniences fell out." The times pressed hard upon the marquis and his lady, as they did indeed upon every loyalist abroad. "The people would have pulled," she says, "God out of heaven, had they had the power, as they pulled royalty out of his throne." Of the large rental of his estate, not one farthing could the marquis get for his own use, and he lived on his credit abroad, which was large, till even it was exhausted. His wife was once left, she tells us, at Antwerp, as a pawn for his debts. "He lived on credit," says the duchess, "and outlived his trust, so that his steward But the marchioness solicited in vain; Newcastle had been too steady a loyalist to receive any mark of favor or of justice from the Independent party, so that she had to return to her husband abroad with but a trifling produce from her mission, "On my return," she writes, "his creditors came clamorous round me, supposing I had brought a great store of money along with me." When in London, she says,— "I gave some half-a-score of visits, and went with my lord's brother to hear music in one Mr. Lawes his house, three or four times [the Lawes that called Milton friend], as also some three or four times to Hyde Park with my sisters to take the air, else I never stirred and sisters; nor seldom did I dress myself, as out of my lodgings, unless to see my brothers taking no delight to adorn myself, since he I only desired to please was absent." But his lordship was not idle abroad. He lived at Antwerp, and in great state, in the house "which belonged to the widow of Van Ruben, a famous picture-drawer."* His horses were of the finest breed. He was attended by all skilled in a knowledge of the stable, of the noble art of horseman *Rubens' house, still stown at Antwerp. ship, and the science of fencing.* It was about Welbeck and its neighborhood reNewcastle who taught the profligate Villiers joiced again at the return of the princely the cunning of the sword. Nor was his time proprietor. But from the court and the misemployed in writing his noble book on general intoxication which followed the rehorsemanship, a work, as Horace Wal-storation of the king, the duke and duchess pole observes, " read by those who scarce absented themselves as much as possible. know any other author." The duchess, too, For this they were made the laughing-stock learnt much from his tuition; "for I being of the Villierses and Wilmots, the Ethereyoung," she says, "when your lordship ges and the Sedleys,, that frequented the married me, could not have much know- courts of St. James's and Whitehall. Even ledge of the world. But it pleased God to the king joined in the general ridicule of command his servant Nature to indue me his satellites, and Sir Walter Scott, in his with a poetical and philosophical genius, Peveril of the Peak, has entered into this even from my very birth; for I did write feeling with his usual exactness, with his some books in that kind before I was twelve wonted vivacity and vigor. years of age, which, for want of good method and order, I would never divulge." The year of the Restoration was the sixteenth of the exile of the loyal marquis, and the year, too of his return. His lordship was among the first of the exiled loyalists to land, and so eager was he, though then sixty-six, to set his foot once more on English ground, that he left his wife to follow him at her own leisure, and crossed the Channel in a leaky vessel. How interesting is the duchess's picture of her lord's re turn: Now and then the duchess made her appearance in public. One of her visits was to the Royal Society, and Birch, in his History, has recorded the visit, and the day on which it took place. Evelyn was there, and in his Diary has commemorated the occurrence : "May 30, 1667.-To London, to wait on the Duchess of Newcastle (who was a mighty prehad in both published divers books), to the tender to learning, poetry, and philosophy, and Royal Society, whither she came in great pomp, and being received by our Lord president at the door of our meeting-room-the mace, &c., carried before him-had several experiments showed to her. I coducted her grace to her coach, and returned home.” But Pepys has the superiority over Evelyn: "My lord (who was so transported with the joy of returning into his native country, that he regarded not the vessel), having set sail from Rotterdam, was so becalmed, that he was six days and six nights upon the water, during which time he pleased himself with mirth, and passed his time away as well as he could; provisions he wanted none, having them "30th May, 1667.-After dinner I walked to in great store and plenty; at last, being come so far that he was able to discern the smoke of find very much company, in expectation of the Arundel House, the way very dusty, where I London, which he had not seen for a long time, Duchess of Newcastle, who had desired to be he merrily was pleased to desire one that was invited to the Society, and was after much denear him to jog and awake him out of his bate pro and con, it seems many being against dream, for surely,' said he, 'I have been six-it; and we do believe the town will be full of teen years asleep, and am not thoroughly awake yet. My lord lay that night at Green wich, where his supper seemed more savory to him than any meal he had hitherto tasted, and the noise of some scraping fiddlers he thought the pleasantest harmony that ever he had heard.' Her ladyship soon followed her lord, and in the general joy, the marquis, whose services for the king had been unsurpassed throughout the war, was elevated by Charles, whose governor he had been, to a dukedom. The house at Clarkenwell received once more its rightful owner, and the people * Ben Jonson has two commendatory epigrams to the duke, on his horsemanship and on his fencing.-GIFFORD's Jonson, viii. 444; ix. 17. ballads of it. Anon comes the duchess, with by several lords that were there; among others, Lord George Barkeley and Earl of Carlisle, and a very pretty young man, the Duke of Somerset." The excellent Evelyn has recorded some of his visits to this extraordinary woman :"18th April, 1667.-I went to make court to the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle at their house at Clerkenwell, being newly come out of the North. They received me with great kindness, and I was much pleased with the extraordinary fanciful habit, garb, and discourse of the duchess.". dress, as they say; and was the other day at her own play, The Humorous Lovers; the most ridiculous thing that ever was wrote, but yet she and her lord mightily pleased with it: and she at the end made her respects to the players from her box, and did give them thanks. There is as much expectation of her coming to court, that so people may come to see her as if it were the Queen of Sweden; but I lost my labor, for she did not come this night." On the 26th of the same month and the same year (April, 1667,) Pepys saw his romantic duchess for the first time. His entry is in his usual short picturesque style: "25th April.-Visited again the Duke of Newcastle, with whom I had been acquainted "Met my Lady Newcastle going with her long before in France, where the duchess had coaches and footmen all in velvet; herself obligation to my wive's mother for her mar-(whom I never saw before), as I have heard riage there; she was sister to Lord Lucas, her often described (for all the town-talk is nowand maid of honor then to the queen-mother; a-days of her extravagancies), with her velvet married in our chapel at Paris. My wife cap, her hair about her ears; many black being with me, the duke and duchess would patches, because of pimples about her mouth; both needs bring her to the very court.". . . . naked necked, without any thing about it, and "27th April.-In the afternoon I went again a black just-au-corps. She seemed to me a with my wife to the Duchess of Newcastle, very comely woman; but I hope to see more who received her in a kind of transport, suita- of her on May-day." ble to her extravagant humor and dress, which was very singular." Well, May-day came, and Pepys and his friend Sir William Penn went by "conch, "When young," says the duchess, "I took Tiburne way, into the Park, where a horrid great delight in attiring, fine dressing, and dust, and number of coaches, without pleafashions, especially such fashions as I did in- sure or order. That which we, and almost vent myself, not taking that pleasure in such all went for, was to see my Lady Newcasfashions as were invented by others: also Itle; which we could not, she being followdid dislike any should follow my fashions, for ed and crowded upon by coaches all the I always took delight in a singularity, even in way she went, that nobody could come near accoutrements of habits." her; only I could see she was in a large black coach adorned with silver instead of Candid enough! "At Welbeck," says Walpole, "there is a whole-length of the duchess in a theatric habit, which, tradition says, she generally wore." gold, and so white curtains, and every thing black and white, and herself in her cap.' "On the 10th," says Pepys, "I drove hard towards Clerkenwell, thinking to have overPepys, the most entertaining of journal-fore us in her coach, with a hundred boys taken my Lady Newcastle, whom I saw beists, has spoken of the duchess and her doings in several places throughout his inter-and girls running looking upon her; but I csting Diary:could not; and so she got home before I could come up to her. But I will get a time to see her." If this time ever came, Mr. Pepys overlooked its entry. His last notice of the duchess refers to the biography of her husband : "30th March, 1667.-To see the silly play of my Lady Newcastle's, called The Humorous Lovers: the most silly thing that ever came upon a stage. I was sick to see it, but yet would not have but seen it, that I might the better understand her."* "18th March, 1663.-Home, and, in favor to 11th April.-To Whitehall, thinking there to have seen the Duchess of Newcastle's com- of my Lord Newcastle, wrote by his wife; my eyes, stayed reading the ridiculous history ing this night to court to make a visit to the which shows her to be a mad, conceited, ridicqueen, the king having been with her yester-ulous woman, and he an ass to suffer her to day, to make her a visit since her coming to write what she writes to and of him." town. The whole story of this lady is a romance, and all she does is romantic. Her foot men in velvet coats, and herself in an antique *The Humorous Lovers is the work of the duke, not of the duchess. losophical fancies of the duchess fill some The plays, poems, letters, essays, and phitwelve folio volumes; all are scarce and all are interesting. |