ing that astonishing memory. t may be he was not ill-pleased that you should recognize it; but to those prodigious intellectual feats, which were so easy to him, who would grudge his tribute of homage? His talk was, in a word, admirable, and we admired it. Of the notices which have appeared regarding Lord Macaulay, up to the day when the present lines are written (the 9th of January), the reader should not deny himself the pleasure of looking especially at two. It is a good sign of the times when such articles as these (I mean the articles in The Times and Saturday Review) appear in our public prints about our public men. They educate us, as it were, to admire rightly. An uninstructed person in a museum or at a concert may pass by without recognizing a picture or at a passage of music, which the connoisseur by his side may show him is a masterpiece of harmony, or a wonder of artistic skill. After reading these papers you like and respect more the others, and wins all the prizes to which he has a mind. A place in the senate is straightway offered to the young man. He takes his seat there; he speaks, when so minded, without party anger or intrigue, but not without party faith and a sort of heroic enthusiasm for his cause. Still he is poet and philosopher even more than orator. That he may have leisure and means to pursue his darling studies, he absents himself for a while, and accepts a richly remunerated post in the East. As learned a man may live in a cottage or a college common-room; but it always seemed to me that ample means and recognized rank were Macaulay's as of right. Years ago there was a wretched outcry raised because Mr. Macaulay dated a letter from Windsor Castle, where he was staying. Immortal gods! Was this man not a fit guest for any palace in the world? or a fit companion for any man or woman in it? I dare say, after Austerlitz, the old K. K. court officials and footmen sneered at Napoleon for dating from Schön-person you have admired so much already. brunn. But that miserable" Windsor Castle" outcry is an echo out of fast-retreating old-world remembrances. The place of such a natural chief was amongst the first of the land; and that country is best, according to our British notion, at least, where the man of eminence has the best chance of investing his genius and intellect. And so with regard to Macaulay's style there may be faults, of course-what critic can't point them out? But for the nonce we are not talking about faults: we want to say nil nisi bonum. Well-take at hazard any three pages of the Essays or History ;—and, glimmering below the stream of the narrative, as it were, you, an average reader, see one, two, three, a half-score of allusions to other historic facts, characters, literature, poetry, with which you are acquainted. Why is this epithet used? Whence is that simile drawn? How does he manage, in two or three words, to paint an individual, or to indicate a landscape? Your neighbor, who has his reading, and his little stock of literature stowed away in his mind, shall detect more points, allusions, happy touches, indicating not only the prodigious memory and vast learning of this master, but the wonderful industry, the honest, humble previous toil of this great scholar. He reads twenty books to write a sentence; he travels a hundred miles to make a line of description. If a company of giants were got together, very likely one or two of the mere six-feet-six people might be angry at the incontestable superiority of the very tallest of the party: and so I have heard some London wits, rather peevish at Macaulay's superiority, complain that he occupied too much of the talk, and so forth. Now that wonderful tongue is to speak no more, will not many a man grieve that he no longer has the chance to listen? To remember the talk is to wonder: to think not only of the treasures he had in his memory, but of the trifles he had stored there, and could produce with equal readiness. Almost on the last day I had the fortune to see him, a conversation happened suddenly to spring up about senior wranglers, and what Many Londoners-not all-have seen the they had done in after life. To the almost British Museum Library. I speak à cœur terror of the persons present, Macaulay be-ouvert, and pray the kindly reader to bear gan with the senior wrangler of 1801-2-3-4, with me. I have seen all sorts of domes of and so on, giving the name of each, and re- Peters and Pauls, Sophia, Pantheon,—what lating his subsequent career and rise. Every not?—and have been struck by none of them man who has known him has his story regard- so much as by that catholic dome in Blooms backs and applauds freedom struggling for its own; how he hates scoundrels, ever so victorious and successful; how he recognizes genius, though selfish villains possess it! The critic who says Macaulay had no heart, might say that Johnson had none: and two men more generous, and more loving, and more hating, and more partial, and more noble, do not ive in our history. bury, under which our million volumes are housed. What peace, what love, what truth, what beauty, what happiness for all, what generous kindness for you and me, are here spread out! It seems to me one cannot sit down in that place without a heart full of grateful reverence. I own to have said my grace at the table, and to have thanked Heaven for this my English birthright, freely to partake of these bountiful books, and to The writer who said that Lord Macaulay speak the truth I find there. Under the had no heart could not know him. Press dome which held Macaulay's brain, and from writers should read a man well, and all over, which his solemn eyes looked out on the and again; and hesitate, at least, before they world but a fortnight since, what a vast, bril-speak of those aidoia. Those who knew Lord liant, and wonderful store of learning was Macaulay knew how admirably tender, and ranged! what strange lore would he not fetch generous, and affectionate he was. It was for you at your bidding! A volume of law, not his business to bring his family before the or history, a book of poetry familiar or for- theatre footlights, and call for bouquets from gotten (except by himself who forgot noth- the gallery as he wept over them. ing), a novel ever so old, and he had it at If any young man of letters reads this little hand. I spoke to him once about Clarissa. sermon-and to him, indeed, it is addressed "Not read Clarissa!" he cried out. "If I would say to him, "Bear Scott's words in you have once thoroughly entered on Clarissa, your mind, and be good, my dear."" Here and are infected by it, you can't leave it. are two literary men gone to their account, When I was in India, I passed one hot season and, laus Deo, as far as we know, t is fair, at the hills, and there were the governor-gen- and open, and clean. Here is no need of eral, and the secretary of government, and apologies for shortcomings, or explanations the commander-in-chief, and their wives. I of vices which would have been virtues but had Clarissa with me: and, as soon as they for unavoidable etc. Here are two examples began to read, the whole station was in a of men most differently gifted: each pursuing passion of excitement about Miss Harlowe his calling; each speaking his truth as God and her misfortunes, and her scoundrelly bade him; each honest in his life; just and Lovelace! The governor's wife seized the irreproachable in his dealings; dear to his book, and the secretary waited for it, and the chief justice could not read it for tears!" He acted the whole scene: he paced up and down the Athenæum library: I dare say he could have spoken pages of the book-of that book, and of what countless piles of others! In this little paper let us keep to the text of nil nisi bonum. One paper I have read regarding Lord Macaulay says "he had no heart." Why, a man's books may not always speak the truth, but they speak his mind in spite of himself: and it seems to me this man's heart is beating through every page he penned. He is always in a storm of revolt and indignation against wrong, craft, tyranny. How he cheers heroic resistance; how he friends; honored by his country; beloved at his fireside. It has been the fortunate lot of both to give uncountable happiness and delight to the world, which thanks them in return with an immense kindliness, respect, affection. It may not be our chance, brother scribe, to be endowed with such merit, or rewarded with such fame. But the rewards of these men are rewards paid to our service. We may not win the baton or epaulettes; but God give us strength to guard the honor of the flag! Since the above was written, I have been in formed that it has been found, on examining Lord Macaulay's papers, that he was in the habit of giving away more than a fourth part of his annual income. From The Home Journal. sorbed by an intense love of art, that she will never be satisfied with any stopping-place on the ladder of excellence. YOUR entertaining journal seldom fails in The statue of Zenobia is larger than life cordial recognition of whatever indicates pro- size. The head is covered with a helmet, gressive tendencies in the education and char-fashioned like a tiara in front, suggested by a acter of women. Therefore, you cannot be medal of the Palmyrean Queen in the British otherwise than deeply interested in Harriet Museum. Under this, in keeping with the Hosmer, spiritually the twin-sister of Rosa Bonheur, of whom one of your correspondents lately gave such a graphic and lively sketch. royal costumes of the East, is a gemmed fillet, the ends of which fall among her curls, and meet in a pleasing line, the ornamented cinte crossed upon the breast. The left hand When I parted from Miss Hosmer, on her clutches the chain fastened to her wrist by return to Rome, in 1857, her mind was com- manacles in the shape of bracelets. On th pletely occupied with planning a statue of right arm, which falls naturally and easily by Zenobia in chains, as she appeared in the her side, is visible a thin sleeve looped up in triumphal procession of Aurelian. The per- the Amazonian fashion. Over this first dress sonal beauty and proud bearing of that great is a shorter robe of thicker material. The Queen of the East rendered her an admira- ample folds of a rich mantle, fastened on the ble subject for sculpture; and the costume shoulders with gems, breaks up the monotoof the place and period was also extremely nous outline of the more closely fitting garfavorable to artistic purposes. But the ear-ments. The whole costume is a charming nest young sculptor foresaw many obstacles combination of Grecian grace with orienta. in the way of success. The action of walk- magnificence. In the position of the feet and ing would obviously be very difficult to ren- limbs, the artist seems to me to have accomder gracefully and naturally in marble; and plished the exceedingly difficult task of makit required genius to conceive and embodying a just poise between action and repose. the expression suitable to the Majesty of It indicates precisely the slow, measured tread Palmyra under such painful circumstances. natural to a stately person walking in a proI said to myself, "If my enterprising and cession. The expression of the beautiful face energetic young friend accomplishes this task is admirably conceived. It is sad, but calm, well, she will assuredly deserve a place in the and very proud; the expression of a great world's history." soul, whose regal majesty no misfortune could dethrone. Miss Hosmer, in a letter accompanying the photograph, writes: “I have tried to make her too proud to exhibit passion or emotion of any kind; not subdued, though a prisoner; but calm, grand, and strong within herself." I think the public will agree that she has successfully embodied this high ideal of her supurb subject. She has accomplished it well. I am sure that would be your prompt verdict, if you could see a photograph of the completed statue, which I received from Rome last week. She has worked at this great statue with such intensity of purpose, and such untiring labor, that physicians sent her into Switzerand to save her life. The production is worth all the concentrated thought she has bestowed upon it. It far surpasses any thing she has hitherto done. Many women, if they had accomplished half as much, would think they had a right to put up at the Hotel de l'Univers, and do nothing during the remainder of their natural lives, but repose on their laurels, and be lionized by visitors. But Miss Hosmer is not one of that stamp. Her soul is so ab I Are you not glad a woman has done this? know you are; or I would not have written to you of my own delight in this great performance of our gifted countrywoman. This grand specimen of modern sculpture is now at Rome, in the Academia dei Quiriti. It will be exhibited a short time in London, and then brought to this country. L. MARIA CHILD. SHORT ARTICLES.-Natural Oyster Beds, 661. Pictures of the Chinese, by themselves, 661. Against Wind and Tide, 676. Note to Campbell's Visit to England in 1775, 692. Who's who, in 1860? 694. Death of William E. Burton, 699. Gentleness, 699. Portrait of Byron's Countess Guiccioli, 704. It is a pity that more has not been made of the fine subject, "The Silence of Scripture." The writer looks at Christmas from an extra-puritanical point of view. Still the reader will be sufficiently rewarded. The next number will contain good articles on "Erasmus," and on the "Acclimatization of Animals," and will conclude "Holmby House." This story is now published separately for 50 cents. NEW BOOK. AN ARCTIC BOAT JOURNEY, IN THE AUTUMN OF 1854. By Isaac L. Hayes, Surgeon of the PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY ' LITTELL, SON, & CO., BOSTON. For Six Dollars a year, in advance, remitted directly to the Publishers, the Living Age will be punctually for warded free of postage. Complete sets of the First Series, in thirty-six volumes, and of the Second Series. in twenty volumes. handsomely bound. packed in neat boxes, and delivered in all the principal cities, free of expense of freight, are for sale at two dollars a volume. ANY VOLUME may be had separately, at two dollars, bound, or a dollar and a half in numbers. ANY NUMBER may be had for 13 cents; and it is well worth while for subscribers or purchasers to complete any broken volumes they may have, and thus greatly enhance their value From The Cornhill Magazine. ABOVE the trailing mignonette And looks of carnest will · Thus ran her thoughts: "Oh, wretched day! If she were not their heir; I loathe the sunbeams as they play "Yet why? she is too good, too mild, And cease to haunt these wooded ways On to the conscious maiden pass'd The glist'ning curls that hung I tremble-not with fear: "My mother trusts to drag me down By pleasures of the clam'rous town, Then darker round the lady grew And stormy thoughts began to brew "What is my being if I lose My love's last stake? while she Has the fair future where to choose Free scope those means and powers to use, "Was it for this her baby arms About my neck were flung? "Oh, horrible! to wish my child- She cried, "O mother! love him not;— "You have had years of full delight, As bright as it could seem;- "Yet you were once what I am now,— "Ah! why not die? This cruel strife, Nor halted in its course, 'Till her hard pride was turn'd to shame, She spoke her words were very low, "Dear child! he comes. Nay, blush not so "Tis best, 'tis best, that I should go- Then, as his steps grew near and fast, Her heart by holy grace had cast And on the threshold calm she pass'd R. MONCKTON MILNES. |