INTERVIEW OF MR. FOX WITH

BONAPARTE.

THE insertion of Mr. Fox's letter to Lord Grey in our first number, appears to have given so much pleasure, that we have gladly looked out for something more respecting this interesting statesman, to lay before our readers.

Changes of time give a new interest to the scenes of the moral world, as changes of place do to those of a landscape. The following passage in the memoirs of Mr. Fox's latter years, written by his private secretary Mr. Trotter, has appeared, no doubt, often enough in older publications, and may be familiar (at least in general recollection) to many of our readers. But even they will look at it with a new interest, when they consider that not only is Mr. Fox dead, and all that splendid military court scene vanished, and Napoleon himself gone after it, but how he is gone, and what has happened since his ruin, and what new hopes have opened their prospects to the world, such as Mr. Fox loved through all the clouds of party, rank, and office, and such (we suspect) as Napoleon never loved at all, nor believed in.

It is for this reason that we always loved the memory of Fox, however we might venture to think otherwise than he did respecting the means of bringing about the happiness of mankind. That is not the question in these unpolitical pages. But party, &c., were the accidents of his position in society, as they are, more or less, of us all. His heart was a fine, open, manly, unaffected human heart, of the truest order, sensitive to all genial impulses, but not to be moved out of its testimony to what it thought best and truest, by flattery any more than fear; and if Whigs, Tories and Radicals, were all made up of such people as he, they would soon come to an understanding, and find out which was best for the world. But it is the progress of his beloved books and humanities that must make him so.

What we would most direct the reader's attention to in the following extract, however interesting in other points of view, is the agitation of Bonaparte's nerves, when he found himself standing in the presence of Fox. We have little doubt that it was owing to a consciousness of the sinister views with which he ultimately ruined his own greatness, and the comparative vice and puerility of them, compared with those of the man who stood before him in the simplicity of truth.

As we visited the Museum, (says Mr. Trotter) as often as time could be spared, I recollect one day that all the company were attracted to the windows of the Louvre, by a parade in the Place de Carousel. The guards, and some other French troops, were exercising. Mr. Fox, with the others, went to the window, but he instantly turned away on seeing the soldiers. This occurred some time before the levee; and on that day, as there was a grand parade, we remained in a private apartment of the Tuilleries till it was over. Buonaparte, mounted on a white charger, and accompanied by some general officer, reviewed his troops, amounting to about six thousand, with great rapidity. The consular troops made a fine appearance, and the whole was a brilliant and animating spectacle. Mr Fox paid little or no attention to it, conversing chiefly, while it lasted with Count Markoff, the Russian ambassador. I observed Mr. Fox was disinclined not only to military, but to any pompous display of the power of the French government. An enemy to all ostentation, he disliked it everywhere, but the parade of military troops in the heart of the metropolis, carrying with it more than vain pomp, must naturally have shocked, rather than entertained, such principles as those of Mr. Fox.

On the day of the great levee, which was to collect so many representatives of nations and noble strangers of every country to pay their respects to the First Consul of France, now established as the sole head of government for life, several apartments, having the general name of the Salle des Ambassadeurs, were appropriated for the crowd of visitors at the levee, previous to their being admitted to the First Consul's presence. Lord Holland, Lord Robert Spencer, Lord St. John, Mr. Adair, and myself, accompanied Mr. Fox there. I must acknowledge that the novel and interesting scene amused and interested me to the highest degree. This grand masquerade of life was inconceivably striking-the occasion of assembling,-the old palace of the Bourbons, the astonishing attitude that France had assumed affected the imagination, and almost overpowered the judgment. A latent smile was often to be caught on the countenances of different intelligent and enlightened men; it said, very significantly, can this be reality? can so wonderful a fabric be

permanent?

His toils were now approaching; there was a much greater number of English presented than of any other nation. Mr. Merry, the English Ambassador, appeared on the part of the British government, to sanction and recognize the rank and government of the First Consul! Mr. Merry, whose nation had, under the blind auspices of an intemperate minister, fatally interfered with the internal concerns of a great people, and had vainly attempted to counteract the success of their efforts. What a subject had he for a letter, in the style of Barillon, for the perusal of Mr. Pitt, or his friend Mr. Addington, then acting as Pitt's deputy, or locum tenens, in the government! Mr. Merry-then acting under Lord Hawkesbury, the Quixotic marcher to Paris, which same lord was now receiving a magnificent present of a service of China of unrivalled beauty and elegance, from

this same new government and Buonaparte. It would
have been an instructive lesson for Mr. Pitt himself,
could he invisibly, with Minerva by his side, have con-
templated the scene; he might then have studied his-
tory, and discovered that such interference and conduct
in foreign powers, as that of his and the allied poten-
tates, he had made Cromwell a king, or an emperor,
and fixed the succession of his family.

"What think you of all this?" said the chevalier
d'Azara, ambassador from Spain, addressing himself to
Mr. Fox. The other gave an expressive smile :-"It is
an astonishing time," continued he,-" pictures, statues
I hear the Venus de Medicis is on her way-what
shall we see next?" A pleasant dialogue ensued; these
enlightened statesmen diverting themselves, when scold-
ing and anger could avail nothing. The Turkish am-
bassador graced the splendid scene; a diminutive
figure, accompanied by a suite of fine and handsome
men;-he reposed on a sofa ;-the heat was excessive,
and his cross-legged attitude but little relieved him;
his companion spoke French with great ease; and some
of them were fine Grecian figures.

Count Markkoff! covered with diamonds, of a most forbidding aspect-of sound sense, however,-malgre, a face no lady would fall in love with, and an ungraceful air. The Marquis Lucchesini! the King of Prussia's Ambassador, who, from an obscure situation, by having become the reader to a minister, was elevated to the corps diplomatique-gaudily dressed-always with several conspicuous colours,-one thought of a foreign bird on seeing him; and his physiognomy corroborated the idea-agreeable, however; pleasing in manners; easy in his temper; and enjoying rationally the amusing scenes around him.

The Marquis de Gallo! the Neapolitan Ambassadoran unmeaning nobleman of the old school,-florid in manner, but not calculated to produce effect in politics or conversation. Have I forgotten the Count Cobengel! that sage and venerable negociator was there. A small, emaciated figure,-pale, and worn out with the intrigues of courts, he seemed to have been reserved to witness the scene before us, as a refutation of all his axioms and systems. With excellent good sense, he took all in good part-he was too wise to betray disatisfaction, and too polite not to bend with the gale. The American Ambassador, Mr. Livingston, plain and simple in manners and dress,-representing his republic with propriety and dignity. Of these, I believe M. D'Azare, held the first rank for intellect; he had all the appearance of a man of genius-he seemed very much to enjoy the society of Mr. Fox,-he, and the Count Cobenzel, are both since dead, as, no doubt, are many others of the actors in the grand drama of that day.

The illustrious statesman of England, who that day attracted every eye, is himself withdrawn also from mortal scenes!

A number of English noblemen and gentlemen, many Russians-Swedish officers, with the white scarf on their arm, also crowded the room. The Cardinal Caprara! representing His Holiness, the Pope, with his scarlet stockings and cap, was to me a novel sight,he was a polite and dignified ecclesiastic, and, but that I was imbued a little with the prejudice of English historians and other authors, I should have found nothing extraordinary in the respectable cardinal. I am now ashamed that I did.

This grand assemblage was detained a considerable time in the Salle des Ambassadeurs, during which, several servants in splendid laced liveries handed round coffee, chocolate, the richest and finest wines, and cake, upon china, bearing the initial B. without any armorial, royal, or established marks of power. The heat was excessive, and expectation, wearied with the pause, when the door opened, and the Prefet du Palais anounced to the Cardinal Caprara, that the first consul was ready, he afterwards called upon M. D'Azara, upon which every one followed without regular order or distinction of rank. As we ascended the great stair-case of the Thuilleries, between files of musketeers, what a sentiment was excited!

As the assumption of the consulship for life was a decided step, tending not only to exclude every branch of the old dynasty, but to erect a new one, every sensible man considered this day as the epoch of a new and regular government. Buonaparte was virtually king henceforth. As we passed through the lofty state rooms of the former kings of France, still hung with the ancient tapestry, very little, if at all, altered, the instability of human grandeur was recalled to the mind more forcibly than it had yet been. The long line of the Bourbons started to the view! I breathed with difficulty! Volumes of history were reviewed in a glance. Monarchs! risen from the mouldering tomb, where is your royal race? The last who held the sceptre dyed the scaffold with his blood, and sleeps, forgotten and unknown, without tomb or memorial of his name! Rapid was the transition succeeding! We reached the interior apartment, where Buonaparte, First Consul, surrounded by his generals, ministers, senators, and officers, stood between the second and third consuls, Le Brun and Cambaceres, in the centre of a semicircle, at the head of a room! The numerous assemblage from the Salle des Ambassadeurs, formed into another semi-circle, joined themselves to that, at the head of which stood the First Consul.

Buonaparte, of a small, and by no means commanding figure, dressed plainly, though richly, in the embroidered consular coat, without powder in his hair, looked at the first view, like a private gentleman, indifferent as to dress, and devoid of all haughtiness in

his air. The two consuls, large and heavy men, seemed pillars too cumbrous to support themselves, and during the levee, were sadly at a loss what to dowhether the snuff-box or pocket handkerchief was to be appealed to, or the left leg exchanged for the right.

The moment the circle was formed, Buonaparte began with the Spanish ambassador, then went to the American, with whom he spoke some time, and so on, performing his part with ease, and very agreeablyuntil he came to the English ambassador, who, after the presentation of some English noblemen, announced to him, Mr. Fox! He was a good deal flurried, and after indicating considerable emotion, very rapidly said— "Ah! Mr. Fox!-I have heard with pleasure of your arrival. I have desired much to see you. I have long admired in you the orator and friend of his country, who, in constantly raising his voice for peace, consulted that country's best interests-those of Europe,—and of the human race. The two great nations of Europe require peace ;-they have nothing to fear; they ought to understand and value one another. In you, Mr. Fox, I see, with great satisfaction, that great statesman, who recommended peace, because there was no just object of war; who saw Europe desolated to no purpose, and who struggled for its relief." Mr. Fox said little, or rather nothing in reply,-to a complimentary address to himself he always found invincible repugnance to answer; nor did he bestow one word of admiration or applause upon the extraordinary and elevated character who addressed him. A few questions and answers relative to Mr. Fox's tour, terminated the entertainment.

$0.

MRS. GORE'S NEW NOVEL. "THE HAMILTONS."

We had busied ourselves with preparing this novel for our week's abstract, before we became thoroughly aware of its being a political treatise in disguise-an Abstract, itself, of the mistakes that preceded, and the astonishment that followed, the downfall of Toryism. We found it impossible, however, to give it up, first, because it was Mrs. Gore's; and second, because so good a book was not to be found in the time we had before us; and we reconciled ourselves to our inclinations, imprimis, because they were such, and last, not least, because in professing to sympathize with all," as most truly we do, we here had an opportunity of proving that we do In avowing, therefore, that we agree in almost all the opinions of Mrs. Gore's book, and that she is not at all bound to make our admissions in extenuation of the faults of those whom she blames, (especially seeing that all reflective writers like herself really point to the same conclusions, though by another road,) it becomes us, in this Journal, to observe, that Tories, though their system is the most victimising of all, are themselves victims, in common with every body else of circumstances and education, and partake deeply of those secret cares and disappointments, which all mankind seem destined to share, till all shall feel for all, and contrive to work out the common good. Who, indeed, that reads this sharp and interesting work, or only our abstract of it, can fail to see that it is the system and not the fellowcreatures which the authoress holds up to reprobation; and that these fellow-creatures, like the most uneducated of the classes to whom they think themselves superior, are spoilt each by the other, generation after generation, son by father, father by his father, till "mistake! mistake! only," is the cry of the relieved human heart.

Upon the talents of the fair author we have not time to say what we could wish; but it is impossible to speak of her at all, and not give her our cordial, however poor and brief thanks, for her generous superiority to the conventionalities in which she must have been brought up, (knowing them so well,) and for the evidences she is incessantly manifesting of an universality of reading and thinking, of public and private sympathy, of seriousness and gaity, of wit, style, womanly grace, and sentiment, which present altogether the most remarkable instance of what is called a masculine under

standing in a feminine shape, that we remember to have met with. The present age, has been an age of women as well as of men, in the sense most honourable to both sexes; and the brilliant woman before us has an honourable niche in it to herself.

Scarcely a town in England but possesses its "righ of vantage." Brighton prides itself on its royal marine residence; Oxford upon its University, Birmingham upon its factories of buttons; Chester upon its cellars of cheese; every place upon its something! Laxington, a neat obscure borough, some ten miles Ñ.N.E. of Northampton, had long been accustomed to prize itself upon its gentility. The gentility of Laxington consists in a tory exclusiveness; the whole village is Tory; the Whig interest being represented by the highly respectable Lady Berkeley, the widow of a gallant baronet, who died

A

for his country, and her two daughters. The first germ of the more dreadful intruder, Reform, springs up in the manor-house itself, in the undutiful radical principles of the only son of Mr. Forbes, lord of the manor. hiatus in the circle of village grandees, made obvious in the emptiness of the long tenantless estate of Weald, is at length supplied, to the great delight of the village at large, in the person of a stirring Tory.

"Weald Park to be let!"-It was something of a degradation to the gentility of the neighbourhood; and the vicar expressed himself severely against the immorality of young Lord Lancashire, on learning that the loss of thirty thousand pounds on the turf was the immediate cause of this declension of dignity. But he spoke with due hesitation; for it was the first time, during a long life, that Dr. Mangles had ventured to find fault with a lord; and he was duly aware that the turf is a vice, of ali but right divine, to majesties, royal highnesses, and peers of the realm. Nay, he almost forgave the noble delinquent, on finding that the new tenant of Weald was not only one of his Majesty's ministers, but no less a person than the intimate friend of his honourable patron, the Right Honourable the Earl of Tottenham. The fact was clearly ascertained. Mr. Smith had been written

to-Mr. Smith's opinion of the manor ascertained; the lease,

for fourteen years, was already in progress of engrossment.

The value of such an accession to the great talkers and little doers of Laxington, may readily be conceived. Their neighbourly smypathies had, in fact, long required extension. Lady Ashley, the fair widow of Stoke, was almost always resident on the continent. The Cadogans of Everleigh were fonder of London or Brighton than of their hereditary oaks. Old Forbes was getting into his dotage; his only son, a rising lawyer, was rarely seen in Northamptonshire; and, although Lady Berkeley, of Green-oak, and her two handsome daughters were of inestimable value, as the heroines of their romance, not a single man of fortune was to be found in the county worth the attention of either. When it appeared, therefore that Mr. Hamilton, the new tenant of Weald, had a son and daughter of an age to form alliance in the neighbourhood, Lord Lancashire was fairly acqitted. They rejoiced to hear of their new neighbour's man-cook, and were proud of his groom of the chambers; but the prospect of a match for Maria Berkeley, and-who knows? -perhaps a wife for Bernard Forbes, was fairly worth them both; Fen. Smith walked over to Green-oak under an um brella the following morning, during a heavy shower to acquaint Lady Berkeley with the news.

But her ladyship was not the woman to be startled into a confession of satisfaction.

"These Hamiltons will not be here till September," she ob served with ostentatious equanimity. "I trust we shall then be at Worthing: if not, I shall have no objection to visit them. Although brought up a staunch Whig, I never allow family politics to interfere with neighbourly sociability. Mr. Hamilton, Tory as he is, may be a very worthy man."

Her pretty daughters, Maria ard Susan, well aware that this tirade was intended only to mark their mother's sense of superiority to the Smiths, and the patron of the Smiths, Lord Tottenham,-smiled over their embroidery. The Berkeley girls were almost as sensible as the coterie of Laxington to the ad.. vantage of having young and cheerful neighbours at Weald Park.

Mr. Hamilton, the new proprietor of Weald, was essentially an official man;-had been born in place, bred in place, nurtured in place. His father had lived and died in Scotland-yard, with the word 'Salary' on his lips; and young George, at five-andtwenty, the private Secretary of a public minister, trusting to be at five-and-fifty a minister with secretaries of his own, looked upon the treasury as his patrimony,-upon the duties of office as the virtues of his vocation, and upon the stability of Tory ascendancy as upon the immutability of the universe!-The very soul within him was steeped in office!

"From the moment a man of ordinary faculties is thrown into the vortex of official life, all trace of his individual nature is lost for ever!-Thenceforward, he exists but as a cypher of the national debt, a fraction of administration,-a leaf upon the mighty oak we claim as the emblem of Britain. There is no mistaking an official man. All trades and professions have their slang and charlatanism; and that of Privy Councillor, although of a higher tone, is a no less inveterate jargon than that of a horse-dealer. Long practice had rendered this dialect a mothertongue to Mr. Hamilton!-His arguments abounded in ministerial inysticism;-his jokes were parliamentary;-his notes of invitation, formal as official documents. His anecdotes were authenticated by dates; he spoke as if before a committee, or acting under the influence of a whipper in. He scarcely knew how to leave a room without the ceremony of pairing off, or to hazard an opinion, lest he should be required to justify it to his party.

To such a man, the incidents of private life were of trivial account. His friends might die when it suited them. Mr. Hamilton was too much accustomed to see places filled up, to fancy any loss irreparable; and, as to births and marriages, they were but drawbacks on the velocity of the great vehicle of public bu siness. All was activity with him and about him.

"Mr. Hamilton's two children alluded to, are a son and daughter, Augustus and Julia; the latter of whom marries a younger son of Lord Tottenham, an empty headed, egotistical young placeman. An attachment arises between Augustus Hainilton and Susan Berkeley, deeper and sincerer on the part of the girl: for Augustus is absent for a long time, to her great dismay and grief. At length however he returns, and succeeds in reassuring her with lame excuses, and equivocal assurances of regard. In fact he is a beartless libertine, who is struck by her beauty, while the purity of her conduct, so much greater than what he is accustomed to encounter, is partly a source of admiration to him, partly of trouble, and ultimately of contempt. The father disapproves of the match. He hastens down to his seat at Laxington to expostulate, viva voce, with his son.

The explanation was a strong one.-Thirty years of public life had, however, imposed such a restraint on Mr. Hamilton's naturally impetuous temper, that he did not follow the custom of English fathers, on the English stage, by rating his son and heir, as his footinan might have rated the butler after a drunken honday. But the bitter cutting sarcasms of a worldly tongue re more difficnit to bear, than an out-burst of vulgar indignation. Augustus listened in furious silence, while his father coolly recapitulated all his follies and enormities,-his debts,-his galJantries, his gambling-his selfishness, his uselessness,-his ingratitude -It was a fearful moment. The father insulting his worthless son;-the son secretly despising the scornful father. One reply, however, was uttered audibly enough.-The more Mr. Hamilton reviled him, the more obstinately was Augustus determined to persist in his engagement to Susan Berkeley. "I have pledged my word,' was his sullen and reiterated

answer.

You have pledged it on other occasions, when it proved no very effectual bond,' observed his father with equal sangfroid, "Congratulate me then on the amendment of my morals!' said Augustus, sneeringly. For once, I am about to perform an honourable action.'

"At the suggestion of Sir Edward Berkeley's expected return to England, rejoined Mr. Hamilton, hoping to irritate the young man out of his self possession.

"At the suggestion of my own inclination,' replied Augus tus, with a kindling eye, but in a phlegmatic tone:' which, as you must be tolerably aware, I am accustomed to treat with the greatest respect. Let us understand each other! my dear father! I WILL marry Miss Berkeley, say or do what you lease. I may have behaved like a vilain elsewhere; here,

allow me to retrieve myself. Your influence with government
has, luckily, provided me with competence; and you have,
therefore, to choose between provoking a family rupture and
the exposure of your affairs for the amusement of the world, or
such a compromise as will enable me to afford to your daughter-
in-law a place in society worthy of her and of yourself.'

Augustus paused; and, instead of a rejoinder, Mr. Hamilton
fixed his eyes contemplatively on the opposite wall. He had
assumed the pacific attitude of Chateau qui parle et femme
qui ecoute. A surrender was no longer hopeless.

"You will admit,' proceeded Augustus, 'that your peerage is too safe to require a reinforcement of your interest by any measure of mine: and as to fortune, although Miss Berkeley's is almost too trifling for mention to you, whose income counts more than double the principal, yon must not forget that she is prudent, economical, unexacting.'

"A country girl, without tact, without address!'

"Ask any of the people who were staying here last Autumn, except that venomous gnat Varden, and they will tell you, that Lord Shetland and your friend Lord Baldock thought her prettier and more elegant than Julia. The Marquis was always by her side.'

“A new light seemed to break in upon the official man. His
stony face grew more complacent as he listened!

like your's. My sister's marriage would have deprived it of its
chief attraction in the eyes of whom you are fond of conciliating.
Even this new peerage, of which you think so much, what is it
in the throng of London society, unless made prominent by the
wealth, wit, or beauty of its representatives?

"The presence of female society is indispensable to a house

"I see how it is," said Hamilton, affecting to cede to the force of destiny. I, who have sacrificed myself, my whole life long, to the interests of my children, shall be compelled to sanction a measure I totally disapprove. Such prospects as you and Julia have thrown away!-My daughter refusing Clancastace, to marry a good looking fool with his maintenance at the minister's mercy: my son neglecting a woman of Lady Ashley's property to marry."

"A beautiful girl,-the daughter of a man whose monument the nation have placed in St. Paul's.-"

"And whose widow, in the pension list?""

"Their descent and connections being every way superior to our own.""

Having once determined upon permitting the marriage, Hamilton, for the sake of his own dignity, makes liberal allowances to the young couple. "And these gratuities, which, between any other father and son, would have been accorded with grace, and received with gratitude, were announced by the arid-minded Hamilton, in the tone of a Chancellor of the Exchequer, giving out the items of a budget; and accepted with a misgiving air by the supercilious son!

"I am unforunately engaged to the Berkeleys this evening,' said Augustus, looking at the clock, as if anxious to escape from a disagreeable family scene, And as I cannot venture to ask you to accompany me"

"And why not?' interrupted Mr. Hamilton, do you sup pose that, having once given my consent to this imprudent match, I am not prepared to go through the ceremonies usual on such occasions? Do you imagine that I would lend occasion to those cackling idiots at Laxington to send a whisper into the world, through the Tottenhams, that I had been deficient in courtesy to the family of my daughter-in-law?-No, no! Pray do not allow such people as the Smiths' and Mangles' to despise us for ill. breeding; whatever other bad quality they may have discovered in the family."

And, in pursuance of his system of conciliation, Mr. Hamilton was shortly afterwards seated on Lady Berkeley's sofa, in all the respectability of his white hair and suit of sables-charming her with his high-bred bow, his mild suavity of accent, his treasury smile, his deference to herself, his paternal tenderness to her daughter. But the hypocrite was taken in his own snare: -he became really pleased with Susan;-he was struck, for the first time, with the singular grace of her manners;-he felt that he should be proud of her-that she would embellish his circle, and do honour to his name. There was nothing to be ashamed of in the connexion. Lady Berkeley, although a bore, was a woman of a distinguished appearance; Marcia was majesty itself. Altogether, for a bad match, it had its extenuations.

"The young couple are married, much to the delight of Lady Berkeley and the distress of Marcia, who imagines her sister would be happier with her plainer, bnt sincerer, and wiser suitor, Bernard Forbes a rising young barrister.

"The tears on Mrs. Hamilton's Brussels lace veil were soon
dry; and, after a month's tour among the Westmoreland lakes,
which, the chilliness of the season considered, the bridegroom
would not have been sorry to reduce to a fortnight, he assured
his wife they should make themselves a laughing-stock to their
acquaintance, by prolonging their excursion. Honeymoons, like
family mournings, have been abridged by anthority of the Lord
Chamberlain,' and it was only in deference to Susan's charming
prejudices, that Augustus had been tempted to respect the old-
fashioned custom of a month's seclusion.

"His lordship is just now in the best of humours,' said the
bridegroom; 'ever since he enclosed me the Gazette announcing
his elevation to the peerage, he has abounded in lordly courtesy.
Let us make the most of it! It disturbs all the habits of his
house that we should be absent, now the season has began. He
will not launch his new carriage till you are there to use it, nor
commence his official parties-nor do any thing he likes. I find
he has taken you an opera box, which is more than he did for
Julia; and asked the Dutchess of Ptarmighan to present you.'
"But must I be presented, and go to the opera immediately?
Can we not be quiet for a short time, till I get accustomed to
London?

"As quiet as you please. But, of course, there is but one
way of living for people who live in the world. What shall we
do with ourselves, if we neither go into society nor receive it at
home? And how will you amuse yourself when I am engaged
at my club, or some official dinner?

"I shall amuse myself by waiting till your return,' said Susan, smiling, 'it will be quite occupation enough; and I hope to see a great deal of Julia. Do you forget what a kind letter your sister wrote me on our marriage?"

"Julia will contrive to make you forget it if you attempt to wean her from society."

You are thinking of her as Miss Hamilton. But so at. tached as she is to Mr. Tottenham

"You are thinking of her as Miss Hamilton," cried Augustus, laughing. Julia is at heart a rake, and on that very account she and Tottenham suit each other precisely!'

*

"But you will be a great deal with me? inquired Susan, looking anxionsly at her husband.

"I shall be constantly with you: unless when I have enengagements in town, one has always some engagement or

other.'

But shall we not reside sometimes in the country?
"Of course, we shall pass our autumns at Weald. You will
then be near your mother and sister; and my father bas his
house full of company, so that we shall never be bored.'

"That will be delightful!' said Susan, in a dejected tone."
They go to town, and the bride is ushered into her newly and
splendidly furnished apartments in her father-in-law's honge.
Her indifference to the show surprises Lord Laxington. He
"did not perceive that while apparently gazing upon the Dres-
den frame of her glass, she was engrossed by the reflection it
served to convey to her eyes of her husband's remote figure;
Augustus having loitered behind in the ante room, to hurry
through the contents of a bandful of letters, which awaited his
arrival in town. What could constitute their pressing urgency?
-They could not be letters of business; for the whole of his
debts had been discharged by his father on his marriage. In-

stead of welcoming her to the room in which so much of their future life must pass together, he was, therefore, actually smiling over idle notes of congratulation or invitation!

"But the billets were soon finished and thrust into his pocket: and Augustus made his appearance, as full of gratitude and enthusiasm, as his father could desire; to enlarge upon Lord Laxington's generosities, and point out to his wife's admiration the care with which her favourite books and music had been collected, her conservatory furnished, and a door of communication opened between her dressing-room and that devoted to his own use. Poor Susan was, perhaps, of opinion, that she should have been more comfortable, more at her ease, surrounded by a degree of simplicity consonant with her early habits; but, as her husband seemed anxious to force upon her admiration the damask and gilding, bronze and ormoulu, mother-o'-pearl and mosaic, which adorned her boudoir, she was liberal in her applause. Lord Laxington quitted the room ere the thanks of Augustus and his wife were half exhausted.

And, so, Susy, my father is actually going to make a pet of yon? cried young Hamilton, throwing himself on the sofa, and bursting into laughter, so soon as the door was fairly closed on Lord Laxington. "Est il ridicule ce cher Papa"-When we men get into our second childhood, it is amazing what a vo cation we display for the toy-shop!'

"It is very kind in him to have taken so much pains for my accommodation,' said Susan, painfully startled by her husband's sudden change of tone, from the cordiality assumed during Lord Laxington's presence.'

"Kind? You will learn to know him better, one of these days! Not an ell of brocade, not an inch of rosewood,-was placed here on our account!"

"The furniture is new,' replied Mrs. Hamilton, looking round, somewhat bewildered.

"New as yourself, my little wife, who have much ground to go over before you discover that all my father's proceedings are directed to the approbation of that great wil de bœuf-the eye of the world! You and I have as little to thank him for, in these baubles, as the king his parliament for the paraphernalia of a coronation! But n'importe! It is something to find the Chancellor of our Exchequer in a good humour. *

"The following morning Augustus was looking over 'the collection of great names on the cards left in Spring Gardens, by way of recognition of the visitability of Lord Laxington's daughter-in-law. You must take care, love, that all these people's cards are returned; and it shall be my task to make you acquainted with those I really wish you to know. With my father's political associates and their families, you must, of course, be intimate; many of them, by the way, being the last women in the world I could present to your notice.' "Then why must I?'

"Because you will be constantly thrown into their society. Party influence is paramount even to the grand dogma of exclusivism. The tories are accustomed to stand shoulder to shoulder, and sink or swim together.'

"But surely you are no great politician? I have heard you speak so scornfully of parties and party-men?

"In the abstract! But are you such a little goose as to be ignorant that party is our rock of anchorage? that we live by office, and starve by defeat? that we exist only by a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether?'

"Susan heard only the first part of the sentence. There was something in the words live or starve,' which seemed to cast a gloom upon the gaudy trappings of the apartments. She looked round her with a glance that inferred, should we not be happier, poor and independent, than in splendid bondage such

as this?"

"But Augustus saw nothing of the glance or its inference. He was watching out of the window a fight between two ragged boys in Bird-cage walk. Had he even seen and comprehended it, his reply would have been unequivocally negative. He had never been either poor or independent. He had no experience in such matters. His political fetters were second nature to him. He was a fox without a tail; but the appendage had been missing since his birth; he had been bred in the trammels of official life, just as the coachman's son is brought up a stable boy. He looked upon parties and politics as a mode or ceremonial of civilized life; and upon office as a thing devised by potentates to enjoy their services of plate and opera.boxes.

"I am going to the Travellers' for an hour or two,' said he, -(the fight having ended in one of the sturdy little vagabond's being carried senseless and bleeding from the field of action!) Will you drive with me by and by? I will order the phaeton at five, and we can take a turn in the park.'

"But although poor Susan thankfully accepted the proposal, it struck her (new as he called her!) when Angustus had quitted the room, that, between the hours of twelve and five, there was leisure for something more than a lounge at the Tra vellers'.

*

*

"Unfortunately Mrs. Hamilton was not in the habit of being alone. She misses the society of her affectionate and intellectual sister; and now she had no longer Marcia to talk to,-no ! not even by letter, with the unreserve which alone makes correspondence a substitute for nearer intercourse. For want of better amusement during their tour, Augustus had contracted a habit of reading all her sister's letters; and Susan was checked in commenting upon her new house or dwelling upon reminiscences of her old, lest Marcia's reply should contain observations offensive to the jealousy or provocative of the ridicule of her husband. Hamilton was apt to laugh at what he considered the flightiness and romance of Miss Berkeley's character, and to express his amazement at the épanchemens de caur exchanged between two sisters loving each other with a degree of affection, such as his lukewarm feelings towards Mrs. Tottenham, and those of Julia in return, afforded him no precedent to comprehend. He regarded every thing as exaggerated and ridiculous which exceeded the barriers of ice, erected by the exclusives as a safe guard to their arctic circle.

"There were many things in her new mode of life, which an uncorrupted nature pointed out as inconsistent and objectionable. So little was Mrs. Hamilton habituated to the details of public service, that she could not help attaching a degree of meanness to the prodigality with which public money and public agents were rendered subservient to the rise and convenience of those who are themselves the servants of the public, in a higher capacity. Her father indeed, had eaten the bread of the country, and her mother was still its pensioner. But the fate of the gallant Sir Clement sanctified the grant.

"It was not so with the Hamiltons and Tottenhams, and twenty families of their party. Some were paid for doing nothing; many, for doing very little; yet, certain of her new friends who were in the habit of proceeding from a late breakfast to their varions offices, and quitting them at three o'clock, to take a turn in St. James's-street, or to lounge in the purlien's of the house, on the chance of a division, were everlastingly complaining of the severity of the duties, and grumbling for the arrival of the recess. The most over-tasked weaver of Spital-fields, could not sigh more repiningly over his loom, for change of air, and relaxation of labour ! William Tottenham and Augustus, commissioners of a lottery which had ceased to exist, and clerks to an office which had never existed, were liberally remunerated as deputies in a sinecure place, the local habitation of which was a mystery even to their principal, yet they threw away the proceeds with as much pride and ostentation, as if they had been honestly earned; and very often did Susan shudder, on hearing them in the wantonness of their prosperity, curse the people-the damned people,-the besotted blackguard people,'-by the sweat of whose brows, their own leisure was secured.

"Another circumstance which appeared unaccountable, wa

"See, ma'am !' cried the old lady, approaching Mrs. Hamil ton, without regard to the prohibitions of her mistress. 'See what a beautiful pair of hazel eyes!-Just the very moral of his papa-pretty dear!-Lord bless you, ma'am, I nursed Mr. Cadogan himself, ma'am, when he was'nt no bigger than this pretty darling; and he was as like this baby, he was, as two drops of water.'

"But another resemblance was sickening in the very heart of Susan her own lost child seemed to rise before her eyes.

"Ah! Caroline said she, seizing the cold hand of Mrs. Cadogan, and motioning to the nurse to take away the little boy. You were right! Forgive me! I shall love your boy very much some day or other, I have long intended to ask you to let it be my god-child.'

"My dear Mrs. Hamilton, you do us too much honour! exclaimed Cadogan, who had entered unperceived, the door opened by the departing nurse. 'Nothing will give greater pleasure to Mrs. Cadogan and myself. You must persuade my friend Hamilton to take his share in your duties. Give my kind regards to him, and

"No!' said Mrs. Cadogan, faintly. I wish-I rather intend She stopped short.

"In a word, my dear, have you formed any engagements on the subject, and with whom. "Not exactly-but-'

"My dear Caroline, pray allow me to arrange these matters without your interference!' cried Cadogan, settling his chin in his cravat. These are points I decide for myself. Supposing we call the little fellow Augustus, my dear Mrs. Hamilton,' he persisted, too full of his heir to notice the agitation of his wife; and knowing that, as the Hamiltons' child had been christened 'Clement,' the name would produce no painful associations.

"As you please!' replied Susan, overcome by the triumphant joyousness of his voice and manner, "We will settle it

"Good! I will write a line to my friend Hamilton. It will be better, perhaps, that the compliment of the request should come from me. Are you going, Mrs. Hamilton ?—Allow me to take you to your carriage.'

"Good bye, Caroline,' said Susan, in a tremulous voice, as she quitted the room. I shall see you again very shortly."

"I trust not-I devoutly trust not ejaculated the conscience-struck Mrs. Cadogan, when they were gone, and she found herself alone. Such struggles, often repeated, would destroy me.'

At length the Tories go out of office. This is a destructive

the number of drawings first agreed for, Mr. C. cannot, I think, B

have any just cause for complaint. It is a somewhat singular
circumstance that Mr. Cruikshank called at my house on the
morning of the very day on which he dates his letter to you, and
appeared on such friendly terms, that I readily obliged him with
a trifling loan that he required! I am, therefore, the more sur-
priseu at the nature of his communication to you, and but for
his signature, can hardly believe that the sentiments expressed
are his own. I beg to apologize for thus troubling you, and am,
Sir,
Your Obedient Servant,

LONDON JOURNAL.

TO ASSIST THE ENQUIRING, ANIMATE THE STRUGGLING, AND SYMPATHIZE WITH ALL.

is surely worth twice, thrice, and four times looking at
and considering,*—worth thinking what we can do for
him, and he for us, and all for each other. Our general
impressions of things (as the reader knows) are cheer-
ful and ready to receive abundance of pleasure. Our
greatest sorrow, when we look abroad, is to think that
mankind do not extract a millionth part of the pleasure
they might, from the exceeding riches of Nature; and it
is speedily swallowed up by a conviction, that Nature
being so rich, and inciting them to find it out, find it out
they will. But meanwhile, we look upon the careful
faces we meet-upon the human phenomenon and his
perplexities, and as long as our sorrow lasts, an in-
describable emotion seizes us, of pity and respect.

We feel a tenderness for every man when we con-
sider that he has been an infant, and a respect for him
when we see that he has had cares. And, if such be
the natural feelings of reflection towards individual
faces, how much more so towards a multitude of them,
-towards an assemblage-a serious and anxious crowd?
We believe, that without any reference to politics
whatsoever, no man of reflection or sensibility looked
upon the great moving mass and succession of human
beings which assembled the other day in London, with-
out being consciously or unconsciously moved with emo-
tions of this kind. How could they help it? A crowd
is but the reduplication of ourselves,-of our own faces,
fears, hopes, wants, and relations, our own connexions
of wives and children,-our own strengths, weaknesses,
formidable power, pitiable tears. We may differ with
it, we may be angry with it, fear it, think we scorn it;
but we must scorn ourselves first, or have no feeling
and imagination. All the hearts beating in those bo-
soms are palpitations of our own.
We feel them some-
how or other, and glow, or turn pale. We cannot
behold ourselves in that shape of power or mighty
want, and not feel that we are men.

We have only to fancy ourselves born in any parti-
lar class, and to have lived, loved, and suffered in it, in
order to feel for the mistakes and circumstances of those
who belong to it, even when they appear to sympathize
least with ourselves: for that also is a part of what is
to be pitied in them. The less they feel for us, the less
is the taste of their own pleasures, and the less their
security against a fall. Who that has any fancy of this
kind, can help feeling for all those aristocrats, especially
the young and innocent among them, that were brought
to the scaffold during the French revolution? Who,
for all those democrats, not excepting the fiercest, that
were brought there also-some of whom surprised the
bye-standers with the tenderness of their domestic re-
collections, and the faltering ejaculations they made
towards the wives and children they left behind them?
Who does not feel for the mistaken popish conspirators,
the appalling story of whose execution is told in our
this day's Romance of Real Life, with that godlike
woman in it, who is never to be passed over when it is
mentioned? Who does not feel for the massacres of
St. Bartholomew, of Ireland, of Sicily, of any place;
and the more because they are perpetrated by men upon
their fellow-creatures, the victims and victim-makers
of pitiable mistake? The world are finding out that
mistake; and not again in a hurry, we trust, will
any thing like it be repeated among civilized people.
All are learning to make allowance for one another:
but we must not forget, among our lessons, that the
greatest allowances are to be made for those who suffer
the most. Also, the greatest number of reflections