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' fering, so as to turn the earlier regard of Lockhart's work in the Quarterly, behis austere parishioners into reverence. ginning with the assumption of the editor

Of the delightful“ Life of Burns we i ship in 1826, marks, of course, the matushall say littie, and less still of the “Life rity of his literary experience. Yet we of Scott." It is difficult to define the qual- may be forgiven for expressing the opinities of a good biographer; but it is cer-ion, that in independence of thought, as tain that Lockhart's biographical abilities in inimitable vigor and freshness of style, were altogether hors de ligne, although, the early papers in “ Maga,” such as those undoubtedly, he was exceptionally fortu- on “Greek Tragedy" and "Pulpit Elonate in his subjects. He had the memory quence,” will compare with it by no means and the minute observation of a Boswell, unfavorably. Necessarily, what strikes with a nature altogether antipathetical to us first is the feature we have already that of the lexicographer's obsequious adverted to the extraordinary range of shadow. He was never dazzled by the most incongruous subjects which he hanbrilliant sparkle of genius, and he was dles with all the knowledge of an expert; keenly alive to defects. He could arrange while they are remarkable enough as his materials as happily as he selected mere proofs of the industry of a man who them. He could grasp characters as he mixed much in the world, and bad always grouped facts and incidents picturesquely many irons in the fire. Next, since the round his central figure; his knowledge of knowledge is never ostentatiously pacharacter and of human nature quickened raded, we only gradually awaken to the his intuitive gifts of perception; and, sat- extent of his literary attainments, and in irist as he was, he had the kindly sympa. that respect the advance is very visible. thies which showed the objects of his His political information is become accuaffections in their most engaging lights, rate and practical; he writes in an intiwhile passing judgment on their faults and mate acquaintance with public men and foibles with the tolerance of a man of the their probable lines of conduct in particworld. The essayists and biographers ular circumstances; he makes the most who have followed him with fuller mate. of exceptional sources of information; rials at their disposal, have subjected while he judges political opponents with Burns's moral conduct to searching scru. almost cynical tolerance, and his impres. tiny; and Mr. Stevenson, the last of them, sions have ripened with experience into while prosessing to write a vindication, convictions. That he was an admirable seems to us to be the most austere of all. editor we cannot doubt. From his private It strikes us that Lockhart, taking broader letters to Mr. Blackwood, we know his views from a more commanding stand- promptitude in matters of business; and point, is not only more genial than most, we can well believe in the honesty of the but as just as any. Admitting the poet's tribute paid him by the writer of the artisaults, he shows that not a few of his can cle in the Quarterly : – did critics had taken him as an inviting It is impossible to say too much of his text for moral homilies; and that much of punctuality in all things concerning contribthe evidence on which his character had utors. The post was not more sure to bring been blackened, came less of his own un. the immediate letter of acknowledgment and guarded admissions, than of his romantic courteous encouragement and coinmendation,

He was indulgence in: poetical license; while than Lockhart was to write it. Lockhart's admiration of Burns's tran- an admirable man of business, and he was so scendent and redeeming genius is based simply because he knew what men of genius upon a delicate analysis of the beauties of are apt to forget, that this is one of the most works that were flashed off in raptures of

sure and effective ways of showing kindness. inspiration, and crowded into some of the Again, the writer speaks of his editorial months of the poet's prime. · As only a tact, in matters of which no outsider has Scotchman and a poet could have written the means of judging: that “ Life of Burns," so nobody but a Every one who had an opportunity of knowScotchman, a man of literary genius, and ing how Lockhart treated the essays which it a confidential friend, could have done jus. was his function to introduce to the public, tice to the biography of Scott. We say he could by a few touches add grace and point

will remember the exquisite skill with which no more of the “ Life," than that it is no unworthy memorial of the illustrious to the best-written papers – how he could writer whose career has been depicted expressed thought, disentangle a complicated

throw off superfluous matter, develop a halfsympathetically and admiringly, yet with sentence, and give life and spirit to the solid an absolute sincerity that does equal sense of a heavy article, as the sculptor anihonor to Sir Walter and his son-in-law. mates the shapeless stone.

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And we need scarcely observe, that such quate justice has never been done to him, a faculty must be rare indeed. It implies and the life of one of the most brilliant the bright adaptability of a keen and of biographers remains unwritten. The many-sided mind, which can throw itself | man who might best have perpetuated his at once into sympathy with some foreign uncle's memory was the valued contribusubject; striking instinctively into the tor whom we lost the other day, and to track of the writer's thoughts, and light- whom we bade farewell in the obituary ening them with impromptu flashes of its notice which appeared in the “ Maga" of genius.

last May. In proof of Lockhart's activity and versatility, we find repeatedly two or three articles in a single number; while the Quarterlies for the single year 1834 contain no fewer than thirteen contributions,

From Macmillan's Magazine. five of which appeared in No. CII. We THE MARQUIS JEANNE HYACINTH DE ST. have neither the space nor the presumption to enter upon any cursory criticism of articles of such varied and remarkable In one of the mountainous districts of excellence. We may observe, however, the south of France, which in the last that such subjects as the lives and writ-century were covered with forests, the ings of the poets, seem to be at once the highway ran up through the rocky valley most suggestive and to have the greatest by the side of a roaring torrent. On the permanent value. With refined apprecia. right hand and on the left the massive tion or warm sympathy, he applies sound foliage descended to the banks, and filled but elastic principles of criticism, which up the small and intervening ravines with he indicates rather than obtrudes. And a bosky shade. Here and there a lofty as a proof of the advantages of a critic crag broke out from the sea of green of genius being at the same time a man leaves, and now and then the pointed of the world, we may call attention to his roofs of a château or the spire of a village articles on the lives of Sheridan and church witnessed to the existence of man, Lord Byron by Thomas Moore. In the and gave an interest and a charm to the former, the brilliant biographer had done beautiful scene. some injustice both to the subject of the It was a day in the late autumn of the biography and to sundry other people. year 1760. The departing smile of naLockhart, with logical cogency of reason- ture, which in another hour would be lost ing and knowledge, vindicates the mem- in death, was upon every tree and leaf. ory of the dead and the reputations of The loveliest tints and shades, so delicate the living, explaining away misconcep- that at the moment of their perfection tions and exposing misrepresentations they trembled into nothingness, rested; very little, as we should imagine, to Mr. upon the woodlands on every side. A Moore's liking. Indeed the task is per- soft wind whispered through the rustling formed apparently so much con ainore, leaves laden with mellow odors and with that we maliciously prepare to enjoy our the pleasing sadness that comes with the selves over another case of masterly dis. falling leaf. The latest flowers of the comfiting when we take up the article on year with unconscious resignation wasted, the better-known work. But in that un. as it might seem, tints which would not kindly anticipation we are disappointed, have disgraced the warmest hues of sumalthough the article is full of a personal mer upon heaps of withered leaves, and interest, thanks to the distinguished sub-dry moss, and rotting wood. The loveliject and the reviewer's knowledge of him. est hour of the year was the last. Lockhart in bestowing generous praise on The highway crossed an ancient bridge a work where the author's talents had of great height with a cunningly pointed been stimulated by friendship for the il. arch. Just beyond the bridge a smaller lustrious dead, and by his consciousness path turned up on the left hand as you of the delicacy of the cause he was cham- ascended the valley. It wound its way pioning, amply vindicates his own impar- up the wooded valleys as though with no tiality.

definite end, yet it was smooth and well In conclusion, we must repeat that kept, more so indeed than the highway Lockhart's case is a proof the more of itself, and doubtless led to some château, the precariousness of the tenure of lit- by the orders of whose lord the peasantry erary reputations. His character as a kept the road in good repair. Let us fol. writer stands high, no doubt; but ade. I low this road on an evening at the end of

October in the year we have already men- or thirty years of age, of whom at first tioned, for we shall meet with a pretty sight there could be no question that he sight.

was one of the handsomest and most Some distance up the road on the left distinguished men of his day. He was was a small cottage, built to mark and carefully dressed in a style which only protect the path to a natural terrace men of exceptional figure can wear withformed, as far as art had had a hand out extravagance, but which in their case in the proceeding, by some former lord seems only fitting and right. He wore a of the domain to command a view of small walking-sword, so hung as not to the neighboring mountains and country. interfere in the least with the contour of Several of these terraces existed in the his form, with which his dress also evi. wood. At the point where the path en- dently harmonized. His features were tered the private road to the château the faultlessly cut, and the expression, though wood receded on every side, and left a weary and perhaps almost insolent, bore wide glade or savannab across which the slight marks of dissipation, and the glance sunshine lay in broad and flickering rays. of his eyes was serene and even kindly. Down this path there came a boy and He saw the pair before him and instantly girl, for they were little more, though stopped. It is probable that the incident their dress and the rank of life they held was equally embarrassing on both sides, gave an appearance of maturity greater but the visible effect was very different. than their years. The lady was of su. The two young people stood utterly silent preme beauty even for a heroine of ro and aghast. The lady was evidently mance, and was dressed with a magnifi- frightened and distressed, while her comcence which at any other period of the panion seemed prepared to strike the inworld would have been fantastic in a truder to the earth. On the other hand, wood. She was clinging to the arm of a the marquis, for such was his rank, handsome boy of some two-and-twenty showed no signs of embarrassment. years


age, whose dress by its scarf and Pardon, mademoiselle,” he said; “I some other slight peculiarities marked perceive that I have committed a gau. the officer of those days. His face was cherie. Growing tired of the hunt, I revery handsome, and the expression on turned to the château, and hearing from the wli was good, but there was some- the servants that mademoiselle had gone thing about the eyes and the curve of the down into the forest to visit her old nurse lips which spoke of violent passions as at the cottage by the terrace, I thought yet unsubdued.

how pleasant it would be to go to meet The girl came down the path clinging her and accompany her home. I had to his arm, her lovely face upraised to even presumed to think,” he continued, him, and the dark and reckless expres- smiling, and as he spoke he turned to the sion of his face was soothed and chas- young man with a gesture of perfect courtened into a look of intense fondness as tesy, “I even presumed to think that my he looked down upon it. Rarely could a presence might be some small protection lovely autumn afternoon receive its fin. to mademoiselle in the wilds of the forest. ishing touch from the passing of so lovely I was unaware, of course, that she was a pair.

guarded with such loyal and efficient The valley was perfectly solitary: not care.” He paused for a moment, and a single sound was heard, nor living crea. then continued with greater dignity and ture seemed astir. It was as if nature kindliness of expression, “I need not understood, and held her breath to further add, mademoiselle, as a gentleman whose the purposes of their lonely walk. Only name hitherto, I believe, has been free for a moment however. At the instant from taint, I need not add that made. they left the path and entered upon the moiselle need fear no embarrassment grassy verge that bordered the way to the in the future from this chance encounchâteau, they both started, and the girl ter.” gazed before her with an expression of It was perhaps strange, but it seemed wild alarm, while the young man's face that the politeness and even friendliness grew darker, and a fierce and cruel look of the marquis, so far from soothing, came into his eyes. But what they saw irritated the young man. He remained would seem at first sight to give little silent, but kept his black and angry glance cause for such emotion. A few yards fixed upon the other. before them, walking leisurely across the But the girl seemed differently affected. grass from the direction of the road, ap- She hesitated for a moment, and then peared a gentleman of some twenty-eight | took a step forward, speaking with her

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clasped bands before her, with a winning ness; that is not necessary. It is true and beseeching gesture.

that the espousals must take place at "You see before you, Monsieur le Mar- once. The interests of your father requis,” she said, “ two as miserable young quire this. But there is no need that creatures as, I hope, exist upon the earth. mademoiselle's feelings should not be Let me present to you Monsieur le Che consulted with regard to the final con. valier de Grissolles, of the regiment of summation of the nuptials. Tbese need Flanders."

not be hurried. Monsieur le Chevalier The gentlemen bowed.

may have other opportunities of making “Who has known me all my life," con- his adieux. And I hope that my influtinued the girl, speaking rapidly; "who ence, which, in after years, may be greater has loved me — whom I love. We meet than it is at present, will enable me to to-day for the last time. We should not further any views he may have with re. have told you — I should not have men. gard to higher commands in the service tioned this to you:

because I know of his Majesty.” we know — that it is useless to contend The words were those of ordinary comagainst what is fixed for us – what is de pliment, yet the manner of the marquis creed. We meet to-day for the last time; was so winning that had it been possible the fleeting moments are running past it would have affected even the chevalier ah! how quickly — in another moment himself; but if a highwayman is threatthey will be gone.”

ening your life it is not much consolation Here the emotion that overpowered her that he offers to return you a franc piece. choked her utterance. She stopped, and The chevalier remained cold and to prevent herself from falling, she clung gloomy. to the chevalier's arm.

The marquis looked at him for a moThe marquis looked at her in silence, ment; then be continued, addressing and his face became perfectly beautiful himself to the girl, with its expression of pity. A marble “But I am intruding myself on madestatue, indeed, might alınost have been moiselle. I will continue my walk to the expected to show emotion at the sight of terrace, the afternoon is delightfully fine. such beauty in such distress. There was As you are aware, Monsieur le Comte is a pause. Then the marquis spoke. hunting in the valleys to the west. All

"I am most honored,” he said, “to be the piqueurs are withdrawn to that side permitted to make the acquaintance of of the forest. I should hope that madeMonsieur le Chevalier, whose name, if I moiselle will not again be interrupted in mistake not, is already, though that of so her walk.” young an officer, mentioned with distinc. Then without another word he courtetion in the despatches of Monsieur de ously saluted the young people, and conBroglie. For what you have said to me, tinued his walk up the path. He never mademoiselle - and what you have con. turned his head, indeed he would have descended to confide to me has torn my allowed himself to be broken on the spirit — I fear I can offer you but little wheel rather than have done anything of consolation. Your good sense has al- the kind, but the others were not so reti. ready assured you that these things are cent; several times they stopped and settled for us. They are inevitable. And looked back at the marquis as he paused in the present case there are circum- every now and then as if to admire the stances which make it absolutely essen- beauties of the scene. At last he reached tial to the interests of Monsieur le Comte, the corner of the cottage and disappeared your father, that these espousals, at any from their view. rate, should take place at once. Even The beauties of the scene, however, were l” – here he turned to the cheva- did not entirely occupy the mind of the

I lier with a smile — “even were I to pick marquis. At the most enchanting point, a quarrel with your friend, and a few sec. where opening valley and streain and onds sooner than in the natural course of mountain and distant tower burst upon events it probably would, allow his sword his view, he paused, and murmured to to pass through my heart, I fear the re- himself, “Some men, now, might have sult would be simply to substitute another made mischief out of this. Let us wait in my place, another who, I, with perhaps and see.” a natural vanity, may fancy, would not place matters in a happier light. But let us not look at things too gloomily.. You The Chateau de Frontenac was built say that this is your last hour of happi- | upon a natural terrace half-way up the


slope of the forest with the craggy ra- | attachments and associations from which vines clothed with foliage surrounding it they sprang; but the De Frontenacs were on every side. It consisted of two courts, a fierce and haughty race, and never en. the oldest of which had been built in the tirely lost the characteristics of their foreearliest days of French domestic archi- fathers. Now and again, at some distaste tecture, when the detached buildings of of court life, or some fancied slight on the mediæval castle were first brought the part of the monarch, they would retogether into a compact block. In ac- tire to their forest home, and resume for cordance with the singular notion of those a time at least the life and habits of a days that the south and west were un nobler and a prouder day. healthy aspects, the principal rooms of In the largest of these old saloons, the this portion of the château faced the day after the meeting in the forest, the north and east. They consisted of vast whole household of the château was as. halls and saloons succeeding each other sembled. At a long table were seated with apparently purposeless extension, several gentlemen well known in Paris as and above them a suite of bed-chambers among the highest of the noblesse de lu of solemn and funereal aspect. These robe, and rolls of parchment and masses saloons and bed-chambers bad been left of writing, with great seals banging from unaltered for centuries, and the furniture their corners, covered the table. The must have been antique in the reign of walls of the saloon were hung with por. Henri Quatre. The other court had been traits of several epochs of art, including built much more recently, and, in accord the works of artists then alive; for it was ance with more modern notions, the chief a peculiarity of the De Frontenacs that apartments faced the south and west. venerating, as they did, the antique porFrom its windows, terraced gardens de- tion of their château, they invariably hung scended into the ravine, and spread them the portraits of the family as they were selves along the side of the hill. The painted in these old and faded rooms, rearchitecture had probably, when first the serving for the modern apartments the court had been added to the château, landscapes and fancy pictures which from contrasted unpleasantly with the sombre time to time they purchased. pile beyond; but the lapse of centuries When the moment had arrived at which with their softening hand had blended the contracts were to be signed, there was the whole into a unity of form and color, a movement in the room, and Mademoiand adventurous plants creeping silently selle de Frontenac, accompanied by her over the carved stone-work of the strag. mother, entered and advanced towards gling fronts wrought a soft veil of nature's the table. She was perfectly collected, handiwork over the artificial efforts of and bowed to the marquis with an unem

barrassed grace. No one ignorant of the The saloons in this part of the château circumstances of the case would have were furnished more or less in the mod- supposed that anything approaching to a ern taste with cabinets of ebony and ivory tragedy was being enacted in that room. of the days of Louis Quatorze, and buhl The marquis signed more than one work of the eighteenth century; but as document, and as he stepped back from the modern articles were added sparingly, the table he ran his eyes carelessly over the effect on the whole was quiet and the room, with which he was unacquaintpleasing: The De Frontênacs, while en. ed. Fronting him, above a massive sidejoying the more convenient portion of board with the full light of the opposite their abode, prided themselves upon the window upon it, was the portrait of a antique apartments, and kept them in young man in the cuirass of an officer of scrupulous repair. In these vast and cavalry of a previous century, whose eyes mysterious halls all the solemn meetings were fixed upon the marquis with a stern and ceremonies of the family had place. and threatening glance. "It seemed that, Here when death had touched his own, stepping from the canvas, there conthe De Frontênacs lay in state; here the fronted him, as a few hours before he had infant heir was baptized; here the impor- met him in the forest, the Chevalier de tant compacts of marriage were signed; Grissolles, whom he had found with Mahere the feast of Noël was held. It is demoiselle de Frontenac. true that for the last century or so these Nothing probably could have made the ideas had been growing weaker, and the marquis start, but he gazed upon the porusages of modern life and the fascina- trait with interest not unmixed with sur. tions of the capital, had broken in upon prise, and as soon as mademoiselle had these ancient habits, and weakened the retired, which she did when her signa:


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