ingenious book published last year, called, A Treatise on the Sublime and the Beautiful.'

I must farther say of him, that his chief application has been to the knowledge of public business, and our commercial interests; that he seems to have a most extensive knowledge, with extraordinary talent for business, and to want nothing but ground to stand upon to do his country very important services. Mr. Wood, the under secretary, has some knowledge of him, and will, I am persuaded, do ample justice to his abilities and character. As for myself, as far as my testimony may serve him, I shall freely venture it on all occasions; as I value him not only for his learning and talents, but as being, in all points of character, a most amiable and most respectable man.

I hope your Grace will forgive my taking up so much of your time. I am really so earnest in this gentleman's behalf, that if I can be instrumental in helping him, I shall think it one of the most fortunate events of my life. I beg leave to trouble you with my compliments to the Duke and am, with a fresh remembrance of your many kindnesses, Your Grace's most obliged and most faithful servant,

66

"W. MARKHAM.”

;

The writer of this last quoted letter was after certain promotions appointed preceptor to the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, and latterly translated to the Archbishopric of York, where he died in 1807, in his eighty-ninth year. The Duchess of Queensbury was the famous beauty celebrated by Prior in the poem beginning," Thus Kitty, beautiful and young;" and described by Gay, as "the cheerful Duchess,"" for friendship, zeal, and blithsome humours known," &c. But the name of the unknown aspirant for the Madrid consulship will outlive the titles of both.

Before dismissing this volume, we shall quote two different testimonies to the transcendant qualities of the hero of the Correspondence. The first is found in a note taken from Horace Walpole's report, and refers to November 3rd, 1759, and to the King's speech on opening the session of parliament.

"Beckford, by a high-flown encomium on Mr. Pitt, paved the way for that minister to open on his own and our situation; which he did with great address, seeming to waive any merit, but stating our success in a manner that excluded all others from a share in it. He disclaimed particular praise, and professed his determination of keeping united with the rest of the ministers. Fidelity and diligence was all he could boast, though his bad health perhaps had caused him to relax somewhat of his application. Not a week, he said, had passed in the summer but had been a crisis, in which he had not known whether he should be torn in pieces, or commended, as he was now, by Mr. Beckford; that the more a man was versed in business, the more he found the hand of Providence everywhere; that success had given us unanimity, not unanimity success; that for himself, however, he could not have dared as he had done, but in these times.

Other ministers had hoped as well, but had not been circumstanced to dare as much. He thought the stone almost rolled to the top of the hill; but it might roll back with dreadful supercussion. A weak moment in the field. or in council, might overturn all; for there was no such thing as chance; it was the unaccountable name of Nothing. All was Providence, whose favour was to be merited by virtue. Our allies must be supported: if one wheel stopped, all might. He had unlearned his juvenile errors, and thought no longer that England could do all by itself. He ended with a mention of peace. Any body, he said, could advise him in war: who could draw such a peace as would please every body? He would snatch at the first moment of peace, though he wished he could leave off at the war. This conclusion seemed to come from his heart, and perhaps escaped him without design. Though no man knew so well how to say what he pleased, no man ever knew so little what he was going to say.'

Beckford was the celebrated Mayor of London of that name. A higher witness may now be adduced. The reporter in this case was a British representative at the Prussian court.

66 SIR, Torgau, October 22, 1759. "After returning you my most hearty thanks for your kind letter of the 12th of June last, permit me to congratulate you on the glorious success of his Majesty's arms, by sea and by land; which we here on the continent ascribe to your manly counsels, and expect to feel the farther effects of them, where it is much wanted.

"I must not conceal from you, that I think the Prussian affairs are still in a very doubtful and dangerous situation; but I cannot despair whilst the Hero lives. What he has done with a handful of men since the unhappy 12th of August last, is equally as incredible as what his enemies, at the head of numerous armies, have left undone since that period.

"A few days before his Prussian Majesty left the camp of Schmotseiffen, in order to fight the Russians, talking at table of England, he said: Il faut avouer que l'Angleterre a été long-tems en travail, et qu'elle a beaucoup soufferte pour produire Monsieur Pitt; mais enfin elle est acouchée d'un homme.' Such a testimony, from such a prince, crowns you with honour, and fills me with pleasure.

"Allow me, Sir, to recommend to you my private pretensions, and concerns, when occasions offer. If, hitherto, I have never mentioned them to you, the reason will occur to yourself; for no man wishes more to deserve your friendship than I do, nor is with more sincerity and attachment, dear Sir, "Your most obliged and most obedient humble servant, "AND. MITCHELL."

We cannot conclude in terms more just and emphatic, than by converting his Prussian Majesty's opinion into English, and by repeating it must be confessed that though England has been long in labour and suffered much to produce Mr. Pitt, yet at last she has been delivered of a man."

The volume is well edited, the notes from various sources contemporary with Lord Chatham's career, and enlarged by his greatgrandsons, together with the fac-similes of a number of autographs adding to its value and attractions.

46

ART. VI.-Letters from Palmyra. By Lucius MANLIUS PISo, to his LUCIUS Friend Marcus Curtius, at Rome. Now first Translated and Published. In 2 vols. London: Bentley. 1838. THE great, and we should say, the extravagant encomiums which Miss Martineau, and after her, the London and Westminster Review, bestowed upon these fictitious Letters, which first appeared in a Periodical Publication in America, have, there is no doubt, operated upon the English Publisher, and served to induce him to venture upon a reprint. The work, as will readily be anticipated, belongs to a class, in which "Valerius," and Bulwer's "Pompeii,' stand eminent; and is an attempt to carry us by the power of fancy to the days of Aurelian, and especially to witness the scenes and have intercourse with the characters that figured during the downfall and destruction of Palmyra. We are accordingly led not only to that once splendid city, but to Rome, Egypt, Persia, and other regions of the East. The attempt is made also to make us familiar with the manners of the age, to introduce us to representatives of various sects and parties, as well as to historical characters; in short, by means of the licence allowed to the novelist, so to model the materials bequeathed us by historical and other ancient relics as to make us actual spectators and to interest us as real participators in all the scenes described and the events evolved.

The period belonging to that which is identified with the reign of Aurelian, and the overthrow of Palmyra, we naturally and necessarily have introduced to us, Zenobia, Longinus, and the names of other celebrated or imagined actors in the drama.

With a view to set the machinery in motion as well as to complete the minor parts and unite all the separate links, the Letterwriter sets out from Rome in search of a brother who had accompanied Valerian in his disastrous Persian expedition; for he is understood, after long confinement as a prisoner in the East, to be still alive. When Piso arrives at Palmyra he meets a Roman friend, who advises him to send forward a messenger on the great object of his expedition, who may more adroitly and speedily accomplish the purpose in view. During the absence of the envoy, Piso is introduced to Zenobia, and her court; he gets over head and ears in love with one of the daughters of the Queen of the East; listens to the speculations and witnesses the alarms which Aurelian's claims, threats, and measures create; remains a sort of neutral spectator during the siege; is witness to the military executions that follow ; and like a ready penman communicates the whole to his correspondent in Rome, Marcus Curtius. There are many characters beside these, Isaac and Probus appearing to be among those upon whom the author has bestowed greatest pains. The former is Piso's Messenger in search of his brother, who may very well be supposed to represent a Roman Jew, one, at any rate, of superior learning, and

better character than many of his race at the present day,-the latter is a lately converted Christian,-a man possessed of every virtue, and of far higher qualities and faith than mere human philosophy can yield. Both however are generalised conceptions, pure abstractions, rather than flesh and blood individualities. The other characters may, in a sentence be said, not unskilfully to group around, support, and relieve, the main figures, such as Zenobia, and Aurelian. As a whole, arising partly from the remoteness of the subject in relation to time, our habits, and modes of thinking; and still more we fear from the author's want of knowledge of the spirit of the age and people he endeavours to represent, and of dramatic skill in the disposal of his materials, this novel fails to engage our sympathies in the manner that many a tale descriptive of modern or feudal times, though by far inferior hands, has enchained us. There are indeed many tender passages, vivid pictures, and eloquent bursts in these Letters. The style is elegant and rhetorical, and as a story, though there be no mystery to be unravelled, no attempt to rest its merits and attractions upon any melo-dramatic footing, but rather by pains to work up a classically correct and finished picture of the scenes and events of antiquity, yet it irresistibly engages the reader's attention aad pleases him as a fairly detailed, while it often delights him as a splendidly set off narrative. We must also say in favour of the author, that although he evinces no close or sustained acquaintanceship with the interior of ancient society, (and who is there that can, unless it be when such dramatic powers and appreciation of human nature, in all its phases and conditions, is possessed, as Shakspeare did, who vivified and imbued with life, whatever he seized upon, whether dry or meagre ?) he seems to us to evince an extensive and ready knowledge of the philosophic sects and opinions of the age he delineates, and an enlightened spirit in the handling and application of them. Were we to enter into more particular criticism, we might without difficulty alight upon some anachronisms, some improbabilities, and some contradictions to ascertained facts; but the employment would be as unprofitable as it would be unpleasant, and therefore we eschew it.

We begin with a passage which, although not so gorgeous as many in Bulwer's "Pompeii," exhibits a redundant yet chastened fancy, and a true Roman garb and manner. It is the style, the minuteness, and the reflections rather than the individuality or accuracy of the picture, to which we direct notice. Piso describes his run down the Tiber.

and

"As soon as I had lost sight of you weeping on the quay, holding in your hand the little Gallus, and the dear Lucilia leaning on your arm, could no longer, even by mounting upon the highest part of the vessel, discern the waving of your hands, nor cause you to see the fervour with which I returned the sign of friendship, I at once left off thinking of you, as far as I could, and, to divert my thoughts, began to examine, as if I

had never seen them before, the banks of the yellow Tiber. At first the crowds of shipping of every form, and from every part of the world, distracted the sight, and compelled me to observe what was immediately around me. The cries of the sailors, as they were engaged in managing different parts of their vessels, or as they called out in violent and abusive terms to those who passed them, or as their several gallies struck against each other in their attempts to go up or down the river, together with the frequent roarings and bellowings of whole cargoes, of wild beasts from the deserts of Asia and Africa, destined to the amphitheatre, intermingled with jargon of an hundred different barbarian languages, from the thousands who thronged the decks of this fleet of all nations,-these sights and sounds at first wholly absorbed me, and for a moment shut all the world beside, even you, out of my mind. It was a strange yet inspiring scene, and gave me greater thoughts than ever of the power and majesty of Rome. Here were men and ships that had traversed oceans and continents to bring the offerings of their toil and lay them at the feet of the mistress of the world. And over all this bustle, created by the busy spirit of commerce, a splendour and gaiety were thrown by numerous triremes and boats of pleasure, which, glittering under the light of a summer's morning sun, were just setting out upon some excursion of pleasure, with streamers floating from the slender masts, music swelling up from innumerable performers, and shouts of merry laughter from crowds of the rich and noble youths of the city, who reclined upon the decks beneath canopies of the richest dyes. As these Cleopatra barges floated along with their soft burden, torrents of vituperative epithet were poured upon them by the rough children of Neptune; which was received with an easy indifference, or returned with no lack of ability in that sort of warfare, according to the temper or breeding of the parties."

We have spoken particularly of the author's extent and familiarity of knowledge in regard to some of the philosophic sects of antiquity; and his account of the last moments of Longinus, the Platonist, who is understood also to have been acquainted with portions not only of the Old Testament, but to have had his attention turned to the tenets of the New, enables us to gratify our readers with some beautiful specimens. After having informed Curtius, that Emesa, a Syrian town of some consequenee, is full of the Roman army, and that its prisons are crowded with the great, the noble, and the good of Palmyra, and with whom he had for the last several months constantly associated, Piso proceeds to say,

"In the morning, with a spirit heavy and sad, burdened, indeed, with a grief such as I never before had experienced, I turned to seek the apartment of Longinus. It was not far from that of Gracchus. The keeper of the prison readily admitted me, saying, that free intercourse was allowed the prisoners with all whom it was their desire to see, and that there were several friends of Longinus already with him.' With 'these words he let fall a heavy bar, and the door of the cell creaked upon its hinges. The room into which I passed seemed a dungeon, rather than any thing else or better, for the only light it had came from a small barred window, far above