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the expense of his honor. He certainly cannot have credit both ways. He either approved of the perfidies he subscribed, or acted upon them in opposition to his conscience. So far as his earnest desire for peace was engaged in these transactions, he might have felt that he had already done enough, in the hope of bringing round a reconciliation, by assenting to a course of treacheries which he must have abhorred; and when that failed, and war had become inevitable, he should have vindicated his principles by withdrawing from the stage. The most curious contradiction of all was, that, being foremost amongst those who labored for peace, he was equally prominent in his exposure of himself in the field, assigning as a reason for so conspicuous a display of heroism, the necessity of showing to the world that his love of peace did not proceed from any fear of war.

These contradictions and inconsistencies evince a weakness of will strangely opposed to the received notions of Falkland's character, and above all to his undaunted bravery in the hour of danger. The qualities of moral and physical courage were not mingled in bim in equal proportions; and his nature appears to have been too sensitive and impressionable for the stratagems in which he became entangled in the service of the king. It must be felt that he comes out of them like a man who was always placed in dilemmas, for which, of all men, he was the least qualified by taste, habit, or capacity. Yet in spite of the shadows that fell upon his path from the moment he renounced his political connections with Pym and Hampden, it is difficult to resist the charm which attaches to him in his personal relations, and the melancholy interest which is inseparable from the incidents of his life. A scholar and a poet, a munificent patron of letters, distinguished in his house by the genial grace of his hospitalities, and in the field of battle by a spirit of gallantry sans peur et sans reproche, he will always be regarded as one who, notwithstanding many errors of judgment, reflected lustre upon the cause in which he was sacrificed at the early age of four-andthirty.

The biography of Lord Capell is more stirring, and will probably be found more attractive on that account, than the memoir of Falkland. He, too, commenced his parliamentary career on the side of the patriots, was raised to the peerage, and all at once went over to the king. Joining his majesty at York, he was afterwards present at the

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raising of the standard at Nottingham, and thenceforth became one of the most active and enterprising adherents of hunted royalty throughout the calamitous incidents of the war and the dispersion of the king's family. His life is a sort of microcosm of the flying camp and the vicissitudes of the court, in which he personally participated. It is related with vigor and skill, and displays to much advantage the versatility and literary power of the writer.

We need not trace Lord Capell through the struggles of sequestration, the escapes and wanderings in Jersey and on the Continent, and the subsequent return to England

circumstantial details which form a part of the general history, and for a minute and vivid account of which the reader may be referred to the narrative before us. Passing over these incidents, we come to that memorable closing scene of his life which, as it forms the most striking passage in his career, has received the largest share of attention from his biographer.

Having obtained a pass to return to England, and being permitted by the House of Lords to reside at his own house, he appears to have occupied himself ostensibly in making a composition for delinquency. But his zeal on behalf of the king was not to be extinguished by any terrors the Parliament could inspire. His majesty was at Hampton Court, in the hands of the army, and thither Lord Capell repaired to pay his duty. This led to a renewal of his secret correspondence with Clarendon and others, having for its object the rekindling of the flame of loyalty and the collecting of resources to resuscitate the hopeless contest. The next move was in Essex, where the royalists made a bold demonstration under Goring and Norwich; and where they were joined by Capell, Lucas, Lisle, and Gascoigne, who, hearing of the approach of Fairfax, shut themselves up in Colchester. The issue is well known. After a protracted siege, Colchester, starved and riddled, was compelled to surrender to mercy; Lucas and Lisle were executed on the spot, Gascoigne was spared on the ground of his being a foreigner, and Capell was reserved for trial by the Parliament, who, finding him guilty of high treason, sentenced him to death.

Great credit must be given to Lady Theresa Lewis for the careful and dispassionate spirit in which she sifts the evidence and traces the whole course of the proceedings in the case of Lord Capell: and however opinions may differ in reference to the justice or

humanity of the verdict which doomed him to the scaffold, there cannot be any hesitation in awarding to his biographer the highest praise for the ability and impartiality with which she has treated a question often discussed before, but never with so much fulness and clearness of statement. The cases of Capell, Lucas, and Lisle were not in all as pects similar. They were special points upon which they presented special differences; but they all came within the same interpretation of treason to the state. Capell himself had the courage to assert to Ireton, that as they were all equally concerned (alluding to Lucas and Lisle,) they should have all shared the same fate; and if he had been condemned with his companions, the verdict would at least have fallen within the operation of those military tribunals whose decisions, however their severity might be lamented, could not be arraigned on the ground of illegality or injustice. But the quarter which was given to him at that moment justified to some extent the belief that his life would be spared, although in handing him over to be dealt with by the civil power, no such expectation was or could be implied. In the course subsequently adopted by the two houses of Parliament there are traces of vacillation which still further encouraged the reliance of Lord Capell's friends upon the mercy of his judges; but the crisis that was coming-the great catastrophe that was now looming over the deliberations of the legislature--appears to have led the Commons to the ultimate conviction that it would have been dangerous to the peace of the kingdom and derogatory to its justice to extend to a peer a measure of forbearance that had been withheld from men of lesser rank and influence. We cannot agree with his able biographer that he was "tried for his life and condemned to death, in spite of assurance of fair quarter." We find no such assurance given in

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MONUMENT TO THE AUTHOR OF HUDIBRAS. -The churchwardens of St. Paul's church, Covent Garden, have resolved to erect memorial tablets for two well-known poets, whose remains rest within their precincts, Butler, the author of "Hudibras,' and Dr. Walcott, the noted Peter Pindar. St. Paul's, Covent Garden, is a church rich not only in sepulchral memorials, but in historical and literary associations. It was designed by the celebrated architect, Inigo Jones, and consecrated by Juxon, Bishop of London, in the time of Charles 1. There is a tradition

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any formal or authoritative shape; but the question is nevertheless fairly argued and exhausted in the luminous investigation to which it is submitted by Lady Theresa.

We have not left ourselves room to enter upon the life of the Marquis of Hertford, one of the most distinguished and enlightened of the king's supporters, who, like Falkland and Capell, began his public career in the ranks of the reformers and ended it in the service of the king, but who, more fortunate than they, lived to hail the era of the Restoration, and to be rewarded for his fidelity and reinstated in his honors. The biography is crowded with valuable matter, and carries us into scenes which develop sources of interest of a different character from those which constitute the attraction of the preceding narratives; so, that, upon the whole, by a judicious choice of subjects, the writer has been enabled to avoid the tediousness of repeating the same incidents, although dealing with the same general subject, and to impart freshness and individuality to each of her memoirs.

If in our notice of this work we have given more space to the biography of Falkland than to that of the others, it is because his name is more familiar in the mouths of men in relation to the chivalry of the cavaliers ; but the general reader will probably discover more interest of a dramatic and exciting kind, and closer views of the eventful life of the period, in the biographies of Capell and Hertford. Taken altogether, they form an excellent pendant to the History of the Rebellion, and combine, with the responsible earnestness of the political memoir, some of the most fascinating characteristics of the romantic chronicle. The work is written throughout in the best taste, and displays a capacity of research and original observation not often found in such happy combination.

al story, resting, however, on no better authority than that of gossiping Harry Walpole, that the Earl of Bedford of those days, on sending for Inigo Jones, said he wanted a chapel for the parishioners of Covent Garden, but that he wished not to go to any considerable expense. "In short," he added, "I would not have it much better than a

barn." " Well," was the architect's reply, "you shall have the handsomest barn in England.". The portico has always been admired for its chasteness and simplicity.

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Ir will be a welcome intimation to a very, large public of readers that a collected edition of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton's poetical and dramatic writings has been commenced, of which the first very handsome volume, with a well engraved portrait and vignette title, is now before us. It will include a selection of his youthful and all his more mature poems, "some not before printed, some entirely re-written from the more imperfect productions of earlier years," all subjected to careful revision. It is to contain also the comedies and plays, and will range when completed with the library edition of that brilliant series of novels and romances with which the same writer has enriched our language.

To those who are curious in tracing a most fruitful, active, and original mind through its earlier to its more mature development, this collection of Sir E. B. Lytton's poems presents the same kind of interest as may be found in his collected novels and tales. No man has been a more resolute, a more unwearied student. Perhaps no popular writer has had greater temptations to encourage, in the growth and application of his genius, what certainly no man has more steadily chastened and subdued. As the brilliance of success never gave him overweening confidence, neither has occasional non-success damped his energy or betrayed his just confidence in the power which has at last won general and earnest recognition. "If it was na weel bobbit, we'll bobbit again." We have the results in the collected edition now begun, and in the claim it establishes, no longer disputable, to the title of dramatist and poet.

Turning to see the, changes which "revision" has made in some of the poems with which we were familiar, we have been struck

*The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. Vol. I. Narrative Poems, "The New Timon," &c. Chapman and Hall.

The Poems and Ballads of Schiller. Translated by Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. Second Edition. Blackwood and Sons.

by the improvement in the early and very beautiful one of "Milton." The idea of this fragment (for it is a succession of scenes rather than a connected romance) is to depict the great poet in the three periods of his life, beginning from that youthful one of Italian trav el with which tradition has coupled the anecdote of the Italian lady, attracted by his beauty when asleep, who dropped Guarini's epigram by his side, and making of this incident a thread to connect the youth, manhood, and age of Milton. Let the reader familiar with the original poem observe the simpler and more beautiful structure of one of its most admired passages in this edition--that in which the poet is exhibited at the close of his life, as Marvel nobly designated him, "blind but bold."

The old man felt the fresh air o'er him blowing,
Waving thin locks from musing temples pale;
Felt the quick sun thro' cloud and azure going,
And the light dance of leaves upon the gale,
In that mysterious symbol-change of earth
Which looks like death, tho' but restoring birth.
Seasons return; for him shall not return
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn.
Whatever garb the Mighty Mother wore,
Nature to him was changeless evermore.-
List, not a sigh !-tho' fall'n on evil days,
With darkness compass'd round-those sightless

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Either the thraldom of the passive herd
Stall'd for the shambles at the master's word,
Or the dread overleap of walls that close,
And spears that bristle :-And the last they
chose.

Calm from the hills their children gaze to-day,
And breathe the airs to which they forced the
way.

Glancing through the lighter narrative poems we find in many new touches an easier hand, ampler and richer illustrations, and the frequent infusion of a deeper sentiment. Much of this is apparent, for example, in these masterly lines:

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"Was ever Lord, so newly wed, so cold?—
Poor thing?-forsaken ere a year be told!
Doubtless some wanton-whom we know not,
true,

But those proud sinners are so wary too!
Oh! for the good old days-one never heard
Of men so shocking under George the Third"
So ran the gossip. With the gossip came
The brood it hatch'd-consolers to the dame.
The soft and wily wooers, who begin
Through sliding pity, the smooth ways to sin.
My lord is absent at the great debate,
Go, soothe his lady's unprotected state—
Go, gallant,-go, and wish the cruel Heaven
To thee such virtue, now so wrong'd, had giv-

en!

In the same poem (now called "Constance," formerly the "Ill-omen'd Marriage") we find a character more fully drawn out, of which some leading points are subtly expressed in the subjoined admirable verses.

No, the calm master of the Histrio's art
Keeps his head coolest while he storms your
heart;

Thus, our true mime no boundary overstept,
Charm'd when he smiled, and conquer'd when
he wept.

Like those French trifles, elegant enough,
Which serve at once for music and for snuff,
Some minds there are which men you ask to
dine

Take out, wind up, and circle with the wine.
Two tunes they boast; this Flattery--Scandal
that;

The one A sharp-the other something flat,—
Such was the mind that for display and use
Cased in ricoco, Harcourt could produce-
Touch the one spring, an air that charmed the
town

Tripp'd out and jigg'd some absent virtue down;
Touch next the other, and the bauble plays
"Fly from the world" or "Once in happier
days.'

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For Flattery, when a Woman's heart its aim,
Writes itself Sentiment--a prettier name.
And to be just to Harcourt and his art,
Few Lauzuns better played a Werter's part;
He dressed it well, and Nature kindly gave
His brow the paleness and his locks the wave.
Mournful his smile, unconscious seem'd his
sigh;

You'd swear that Goethe had him in his eye.

"The new Timon" (which has also been strengthened and improved throughout), a new and charming little fanciful story from one of the fabliaux, and several spirited lyrics, complete the contents of the volume.

The translation of Schiller's Poems and Ballads forms a volume uniform with the series of Sir E. B. Lytton's collected poetry, sume) it has not been formally included. in which (for reasons of copyright we preWith the great and varied merits of this translation the public is familiar. Yet it may be advisable to point out that in that case, as in every case of the translation into English of a complete body of lyrics from another language, we must be content with but a portion of the impression out of which the

In truth, young Harcourt had the gifts that originals sprung, though we ought to be more

please,

Wit without effort, beauty worn with ease;
The courtier's mien to veil the miser's soul,
And that self-love which brings such self-con-

trol.

High-born, but poor, no Corydon was he
To dream of love and cots in Arcady;
His tastes were like the Argonauts of old,
And only pastoral if the fleece was gold.

than ordinary content to receive it from a volume so delightful as this. A whole play or a long poem may often be translated very fairly, but the peculiar genius of a nation exercises such despotic sway over its lyric forms of utterance, that it is only practicable here and there to find any short work of a really great poet which can be transferred

The less men feel, the better they can feign-without considerable change of feeling into

To act a Romeo, needs it Romeo's pain?

the language of another nation.

It

This may be called unsound doctrine. may be said that a great poet speaks not to his nation but to his race. Love, honor, religion, are themes for all mankind; and so they are. But subtle differences of complexion which exist between the minds of nations, distinctive habits of the intellect, find a most accurate exponent in the delicate expression of naïve emotion or of sentiment-we use the two words here in the sense which Schiller has applied to them. They become in fact distinctive crystals when run into the form of lyric. One substance crystallizes into prisms, one into squares, and it is scarcely more difficult to break up one of the prisms and reconstruct it into an artificial square, than to break up a true German song and reconstruct it into English. We call Goethe many-sided, but his songs are even more than usually ruddy with the national complexion. What is there, for example, that could give to an English mind the German appreciation of that delicate little gem with the refrain

Roslein, Roslein, Roslein roth,
Roslein auf der Heide.

Let us also say, however, that such change between the English and the German as the student of the original will find in Sir Edward Lytton's volume, was necessary and inevitable. If the true German light and shades of feeling and expression could even have been preserved, they very often would have looked absurd in English words, because they would have looked strange. And having said this we ought to add that for many reasons Schiller's lesser poems are, at least in a much greater degree than is usual with such a poet, adapted for translation. Their pure and lofty feeling rises high and grand above those shadows of the clouds, beautiful but unsubstantial, about which we have been speaking. The simplicity of Schiller's diction, and the prevalence of a narrative form, renders it easy at any rate to reproduce all his main outlines accurately; and thus a good English version of his lyrics, as we see by the example of Sir E. B. Lytton's, forms a very welcome and delightful volume.

We quoted largely from it when first published. We shall now borrow some epigrams from Votive Tablets, which appear to us for the most part extremely happy examples of close and easy translation.

The good and the Beautiful.. (Zweierlei Wirkungsarten.) Achieve the Good, and godlike plants, possest Already by mankind, thou nourishest;

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