work. Nothing can be conceived more tame and spiritless than the whole performance, crowded with allegorical monsters in the worst style of tasteless affectation. As the man says in Moliere,-" Nous avons changé tout cela," what should we say now if the President of the Royal Academy were to exhibit a picture of the Duke of Wellington in a full suit of tight regimentals, surrounded by a host of Virtues, and Victories, and Valours, and Temperances, and fat little Geniuses with light-blue wings, flying and sprawling about in all directions?

The portrait of Mary is in better taste; it is very lady-like and unaffected the neck and bosom perhaps rather too much exposed, considering that Mary introduced a decorum in dress unknown in the last two reigns. The face is a complete Stuart face, and has a striking resemblance to all the pictures of the young Pretender. With considerable beauty, sweetness, and dignity, we find those indications of weakness and obstinacy round the mouth, and in the lower part of the countenance, common to all the portraits of the Stuart line.

THE COUNTESS OF PETERBOROUGH.-Carey Fraser, daughter of Sir Alexander Fraser, and first wife of Charles Mordaunt, Earl of Peterborough and Monmouth.

Neither the charms nor the virtues of this amiable and beautiful woman, had power to fix the heart of her inconstant and eccentric husband. He spent very little of his time with her, his restless and volatile spirit leading him constantly abroad. It was his boast, "that he had seen more kings and more postilions than any man in Europe." Walpole calls him "as gallant as Amadis, and as brave;" and Pope said of him," that he was never born to die like other men, any more than to live like them."* Lord Peterborough's rivalship of the Duke of Marlborough, and his exploits while he was Commander-in-chief of the British forces in Spain, may be found in every History of England.

Married to such a man, the Countess of Peterborough must have derived what portion of happiness fell to her share from the glory rather than the tenderness of her husband, and the noble qualities of her sons, who were both of them distinguished by their gallantry and good conduct. She died in 1709, leaving also a daughter, afterwards Duchess of Gordon. The second wife of the Earl of Peterborough was the celebrated singer Anastasia Robinson, of whom Dr. Burney has given us such an interesting memoir in his History of Music.

In this portrait of the first Countess of Peterborough, the face has great beauty and a dignified expression, mingled, however, with an air of pensiveness, such as the wife of Lord Peterborough may be supposed to have worn habitually. She is leaning on the pedestal of a statue of Pallas: the attitude is easy, unaffected, and lady-like. The drapery, however, is a failure, being carelessly painted, and composed of deep shades of red and blue violently contrasted, which have a most injudicious effect; the folds have the stiffness and heaviness of castiron all the beauty and effect of the picture are confined, as usual, to the head, which is extremely well painted and full of interest.

:

THE DUCHESS OF GRAFTON.-This beautiful woman, who appears to have been the favourite object of adoration and celebration among the wits of her time, was the Lady Isabella Bennet, only daughter and

* See a most interesting letter in the supplementary volume of Pope's Works, describing his visit to Lord Peterborough a short time before the death of the latter.

66

heiress of Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington, one of that cabal of profligate ministers, who are answerable for the political disgraces of Charles's reign. As she inherited in her own right her father's title, as well as the immense fortune he had accumulated at court, there were many competitors for so rich a prize, even while she was yet a child; but the King speedily silenced all the aspirants, by bestowing her on Henry Fitzroy, his son by the Duchess of Cleveland. At the time of his marriage, the young Duke of Grafton was only eleven years old; but he afterwards proved himself worthy of his good fortune. He distinguished himself greatly as a naval officer, and was, says Burnet, a gallant though a rough man: he had more spirit than any one of the king's sons." After the accession of James the Second, he was one of those who openly showed their discontent at the innovations in Church and State introduced by the King. His answer to James on this occasion was much talked of. The King reproached him with "factious behaviour," and said "he was sure he could not pretend to act upon principles of conscience, for he had been so ill-bred, that as he knew little of religion, so he regarded it less." The Duke replied bluntly, "that though he might have little conscience himself, he was of a party that had a great deal." He was one of the first who went over to the party of the Prince of Orange, who placed great confidence in him. In 1690, the Duke of Grafton attended the Duke (then Earl) of Marlborough, to the siege of Cork, and while leading on the grenadiers to the attack, he received a shot from the walls, and fell, gallantly encouraging his men. He was in his twenty-ninth year, and much regretted by all parties. His young Duchess remained for some time inconsolable for his loss, but afterwards married Sir Thomas Hanmer, and died in 1722. We find this lovely Duchess of Grafton frequently alluded to by the poets of that age; and until the four matchless daughters of Marlborough appeared at Court to eclipse all their contemporaries, she seems to have reigned supreme "Lady of Hearts." Lord Lansdown, in his "Progress of Beauty," places her first among the fair ones of Britain—

"Love in a shining galaxy appears

Triumphant still, and Grafton leads the stars.

Ten thousand loves, ten thousand several ways,
Invade adoring crowds, who die to gaze,”—&c.

It must be confessed that "Love triumphant in a shining galaxy," is at most "exceeding good sense-less;" but such was the affected style of the day. In another poem, Lord Lansdown celebrates" The hearing in the House of Lords of a cause between the Duchess of Grafton and the Lord Chief Justice," relative to a disputed grant made by Charles the Second to the first Duke of Grafton. The Duchess pleaded in behalf of her infant son.

What need of words with such commanding eyes?

"Must I then speak, O heavens !" the charmer cries-
“Oh barbarous clime! where Beauty borrows aid
From Eloquence, to charm, or to persuade !"

Of course the "ill-mannered monsters of the Bar," as his Lordship most irreverently terms them, are put to silence, and "tyrant Law" defeated by the "omnipotence" of Beauty.

Conquest can never fail in radiant Grafton's eyes."

She is also alluded to in Codrington's happy and beautiful compliment to Garth.

"The nymph has Grafton's, Cecil's,* Churchill's + charms,

If with resistless fires my soul she warms," &c.

It may easily be supposed that in that age of gallantry and satire, her Grace could not escape unnoticed by more licentious and ill-natured wits. There is a lampoon extant, which insinuates that her maid having unexpectedly discovered Charles Mordaunt hid in her closet, screamed out, on which

—“The Duchess flew to his relief,

And saved his being murder'd for a thief."

The picture before us scarcely does justice to the beautiful original, either as a painting or a resemblance. She is standing near a fountain, and is catching in a shell the stream which a young Triton is pouring from his writhed horn; but as she is studiously turning her face the other way, no wonder the water runs over. The features are fine, with an expression of more hauteur than sweetness, and the turn of the head and the whole figure have more dignity than grace. The drapery is heavily painted; the colours, brown and blue, harmonise ill. In spite of these faults, the picture pleases as a fine composition, and strikes yet more as an engraving than as a painting. In the mezzotinto a soft, light, satiny effect is given to drapery which is not in the original, and the faults of colouring are not apparent.

The Fitzroys of Grafton and Southampton, with all their collateral branches, are descended from this lady, and the Dukes of Grafton inherit from her the titles of Earl of Arlington and Baron Thetford, which she possessed in her own right.

(To be continued.)

LONDON LYRICS.

Next-door Neighbours.

My wife and I live, comme il faut,
At number Six in Crosby Row:
So few our household labours,
We quickly turn from joints and pies,
To use two tongues and twice two eyes
To meliorate our neighbours.
My eye-glass, thanks to Dollond's skill,
Sweeps up the lane to Mears's Mill,
While, latticed in her chamber,
My wife peeps through her window-pane,
To note who ramble round the lane,
And who the foot-stile clamber.

This morn the zig-zag man of meat
Trotted, tray-balanced, up the street-
We saw him halt at Sydney's:
My wife asserts he left lamb there;
But I myself can all but swear
'Twas mutton-chops and kidneys.

Afterwards Lady Ranelagh.

+ Henrietta, daughter of the Duke of Marlborough.

Probably Lord Peterborough.

The man who goes about with urns
Is beckon❜d in by Betty Burns:
The poor girl knows no better:

But Mrs. Burns should have more sense;
That broken tray is mere pretence—
He brings the girl a letter.

Whether she goes up street for milk,
Or brings home sugar, pins, or silk,
That silly wench for ever
Draws up, pretending at the stile
To rest herself, while all the while
She waits for Captain Trevor.
The Captain, when he sees me, turns,
Seems not to notice Betty Burns,

And round the pond betakes him,
Behind the stables of the Bear,
To get the back way in; but there
My wife's back window rakes him.
There go the Freaks again-but hark!
I hear the gate-bell ring-'tis Bark,
The glib apothecary,

Who in his mortar pounds the fame
Of every rumour-wounded dame,

"

From Moll to Lady Mary.

Well, Mr. Bark,"-" I've found her out."

"Who is she?"-" Not his wife."-" No doubt."

""Twas told me by his brother."

"Which brother? Archibald ?"-" No, Fred.

An old connection."-" So I said."

The woman's"-" What?"-" His mother."

"Who are the comers next to Blake's?

"At number Four?"-" Yes."

-"No great shakes

Sad junketings and wastings.
I've seen them play in Days of Yore,'
He acted Hastings in Jane Shore,

And she Jane Shore in Hastings."
Pray, Mr. Bark, what party drove
That dark-brown chariot to the Grove ?”
"The Perry's, Ma'am, wet Quakers.
He married Mrs. Hartley Grant,
Whose father's uncle's mother's aunt
Lived cook at Lady Dacre's."

But Sunday is the time, of course,
When Gossip's congregated force

Pours from our central Chapel :
Then hints and anecdotes increase,
And in the Mansion-house of Peace,
Dark Discord drops her apple.
Ope but a casement, turn a lock,
The whole row feels th' electric shock,
Springs tilt, their blinds up-throwing.

And every ear and every eye
Darts to one centre, to descry
Who's coming or who's going.

Thus occupied, in Crosby-row,
We covet not the Grange or Stowe ;
Pent in by walls and palings,

Their lordly tenants can't, like us,

Drop in at tea-time to discuss

Their neighbours' faults and failings.

SPECIMENS OF A DICTIONARY OF LOVE AND BEAUTY.

NO. III.

ACCOMPLISHMENTS.-In this country, of late years, chiefly owing to the increase of wealth, and partly to the equalizing spirit of the French Revolution, there has been a rage, now becoming a little mitigated, for what are called accomplishments. By these are generally meant drawing, speaking French, and playing on the piano-forte. Drawing, French, and Music are the three Graces of a boarding-school Venus. An accomplished young lady is supposed to be mistress of them all; but any one of them confers on her the dignity of possessing an accomplishment. The piano-forte is indispensable. Speaking French is taken for granted, and not too much inquired into. The addition of drawing creates an admiring surprise; and if Italian be thrown in, that is to say, if the young lady understands the words of her favourite Mozart and Rossini, or is not very wide of the mark, admiration, as Johnson might phrase it, retreats into humility. The gentleman has nothing further to be astonished at.

One

We know not whether it be to the disgrace or renown of the other sex, that an accomplished man is not so easily heard of. Whether it be that Greek and Latin are too common in some quarters, and too little expected in others, or that it is thought nothing wonderful for one of the male sex to be able to play on an instrument and take part in a duett, or that a man's life has been so busy a thing of late years between politics and money-getting, certain it is, that the idea of an accomplished young gentleman is not so distinct a thing now-a-days as it used to be. We suspect it will become more so, in proportion as those excellent gymnastic institutions increase, which have lately risen among us. real accomplishment leads to another. The sense of acquirement is ambitious, and is for making conquests among the neighbouring territories. Besides, a man has something in him to adorn, when he has the ground of a sure manhood to go upon,-when he has stuff and substance in him to shape and illustrate. His accomplishments, in that case, are not taken for evidences of effeminacy; tendencies to pleasure which he cannot help. They are attainments of his will, and ornaments of his victory. The hand, that can grapple well with a bar, has double grace in dancing over the flute. The conqueror from the wrestlingground goes with a new zest to read about the Greeks and their palæstra. We could lay a wager, that numbers of the pupils of Professor Voelker will be for inquiring into what is to be learnt and added to their stock in very different quarters. They will find with pleasure, that Milton, himself a gymnast, as far as fencing went, recommends the recreation of music after exercise. Socrates, strong in body as well as mind, disdained none of the favours of those three deified Graces, which he knew how to sculpture. Epaminondas, the greatest of the Greek warriors, and one of the most amiable of men, was a dancer and a fluteplayer. The German students, from whom the introducer of our gymnastics has come among us, and whom it shall be no unbearable anticlimax to mention after these great names, seeing that they had a hand in pulling down Napoleon, are the same persons that figure in the war-songs of Kleist, and the tender novels of Augustus La Fontaine.

These are the ways to become accomplished. Body and mind must go hand in hand; not one be left in lurch by the other; not a specula