court.

Cowley, or exchanged opinions upon Thu- in the evening, and even nonsense was recydides; and such and so similar became ceived with leniency. That which, accordtheir tastes, that their associates soon be- ing to Pythagoras, is the mark of a good came the same. Mrs. Carter, it is true, education, the power of bearing with the did not particularly affect the society of unlettered,-was there possessed in perfecmen of letters; she made character one of tion. the indispensable requisites to her acquaint- Among the many lettered and elegant ance; and although Mrs. Montagu was, in this persons who lounged about the spacious respect, less rigid, the general atmosphere saloons, one is received with peculiar attenin which both breathed freely was that of tion, and with an homage from Mrs. Carter virtue and indeed, the lax practice which almost reverential. But, whilst he bows has prevailed during late years, of permit- low to her, addressing to her all the respects ting genius to atone for vice, was unknown that the old school could so well express, equally in the choice regions of Portman his eyes and ears are absorbed in listening Square, and in the small drawing room in to, looking at, Mrs. Montagu, whom he Clarges Street, where Mrs. Carter held her addresses as the "Madonna." It is Lord Lyttleton. At the period when the BlueAmong the lettered crew,-with Lord stocking Society was in its prime, he was Lyttleton on one side, Beattie on the other, an unhappy, enthralled man. He had been Horace Walpole occasionally, and, almost unwise enough to seek a successor to his always, the accomplished Mrs. Vesey, "Lucy ;" and had married Elizabeth, the whose husband had been the friend of daughter of Sir Robert Rich. The union Swift; whilst Mrs. Montagu was delight- was infelicitous,; and the world thought ing the circle with her wit, greater, ac- that, had not its bonds prevented, Lord cording to Dr. Beattie, than he had ever Lyttleton would have sought the hand of known in woman; whilst Mrs. Carter strove the widow of Portman Square. Mrs. Monto introduce into the discourse subjects of tagu seems to have been virtually the moimprovement, and Mrs. Vesey lent the ther of his children, the children of charm of a good listener to the whole,- Lucy," for the second wife left none. behold! there steps in an absent scholar" Your boy, and his governor," writes his in grey stockings, Mr. Stillingfleet, an lordship, referring to his son, the afterauthor now long forgotten, or only remem- wards infamous Thomas, lord Lyttleton, bered by the frequenters of old book-stalls," are perfectly well." "Your lordship's where the student, greedy of their con commendations on Mr. Lyttleton," reciprotents, turns over Dodsley's Collection. cates Mrs. Montagu, "not only make me There he may find some original pieces by happy, but make me vain. He is every day Benjamin Stillingfleet. Old Admiral Bos- going on to complete all I have wished and cawen looked on and laughed, and, in his predicted on this subject." Her letters to sailor-like way, gave the animated circle the young man are filled with excellent the name of the Blue-stocking Society; advice, and characterized a kindness truly declaring, that when they met, "it was maternal. What was the result of so much evidently not for the purpose of a dressed counsel and of such fond expectations, is assembly." A foreigner of distinction, well known in the career of the "bad Lord taking the joke literally, the epithet bas Lyttleton." bleu became proverbial, and it is one of the The first Lord Lyttleton was seven years few traces of that agreeable and refined so- Mrs. Montagu's senior. His life was deciety which has descended to our own times. voted to his chief work, The Reign of HenFor the circles of Portman Square had the ry II., and on that he built his claims to requisites of ease, simplicity,-above all, fame. The friend of Bolingbroke, Lord of early hours. Mrs. Montagu, indeed, Lyttleton had known the perils of religious entertained her friends with splendid hos- doubt; he had escaped them, and his hispitality when they met at dinner; but it torical work teems with proofs that revelawas understood that there was, on the tion was, in the matured period of his life blue-stocking evenings, to be no supper. no source of idle speculation to him. His The assembly broke up into little groups; great accuracy, both in the materials and there was no display either of dress, or, the style of his history, caused it to be the what is far more offensive, of intellectual labor of many years, and the corrections of superiority. Authors were not called upon his work are said to have cost a thousand to read their works. Fashion had her share pounds. The work, one of standard value,

received its meed of praise at its publica-" Well, madam, what's become of your fine tion. Dr. Warton.commended the disqui- new house? I hear no more of it." Mrs. sitions on laws, manners, arts, learning; Montagu was obliged to answer him, and Horace Walpole declared that it was a book soon grew frightened, and "became as civil to learn by heart, and termed it "the his- as ever." Dr. Johnson afterwards expresstory of our constitution," which he predicted ed his feelings towards Mrs. Montagu on would last much longer than the constitu- this occasion to a mutual friend, by saying, tion itself; Lord Chesterfield begged the "I never did her any serious harm, nor author to finish his third volume, which would I, though I could give her a bite; "he hungered after;" and Bishop War- though she must provoke me much first." burton styled it "a noble morsel." But The fact was, that Johnson could not tolerate the highest compliment to it is, perhaps, Mrs. Montagu's wit. "Mrs. Montagu," the disinterested tribute of Mr. Hallam, said Dr. Beattie, "was very kind to him; who, in his chapter on the "Constitution but Mrs. Montagu had more wit than any of England" in his own work on the Middle lady, and Johnson could not bear that any Ages, refers frequently to Lyttleton's Hen- one should be thought to have wit but himry II.

self."

The Monody to Lucy had won this accom- At the tea-table of the "Queen of the plished and excellent man a place in all Blues" there sat one who coolly, sneeringly, female hearts. With Mrs. Carter he be- without the heat of Johnson, but with inficame acquainted at Lambeth Palace, where nitely a deeper taint of malevolence, regardArchbishop Secker threw open his doors to ed Lord Lyttleton with envy or contemptall men of character and letters; and, in it is difficult to say which. This was Hotheir literary undertakings, Mrs. Carter race Walpole, who, in spite of his praise of and Lord Lyttleton were frequently con- Lyttleton's history, called his lordship's joined; and Mrs. Carter lamented his Dialogues on the Dead his "Dead Diadeath and honored his memory more than logues ;" and deemed them paltry enough, that of any of her lordly friends. the style a mixture of bombast, poetry, and Mrs. Montagu was still more zealous. vulgarism; nothing new, except making Upon the publication of Johnson's malig- people talk so out of character is so." And, nant life of Lyttleton after his death, she in honest truth, the judgment of posterity took a very decided part against the for- has rather confirmed this opinion, whilst it midable doctor, and publicly declared that has passed a high tribute on Lord Lyttleshe would never speak to him again. John- ton's historical work. Another truth must son called her "the Queen of the Blues," be acknowledged, that the way to make a and designated Mr. Pepys her "prime man unpopular with his compeers is for the minister." Party-spirit ran high. At women to adore him.

Streatham, Johnson called out before a Among the best of Lyttleton's qualities large company, to Mr. Pepys, "Come was his patronage of merit, that office forth, man! What have you to say against my life of Lord Lyttleton? Come forth, man, when I call you!" And then, to use the terms employed by Mrs. Vesey, according to Miss Burney's testimony, "he bullied him into a quarrel" on the subject.

which seems peculiarly to belong to the British nobleman. His first act, on being elevated to the peerage, was to offer to the learned Joseph Warton his chaplaincy. "I shall think it an honor to my scarf if you will wear it." Thus he wrote. His seekOne morning, it was Mrs. Montagu's lot ing the acquaintance of Lardner, the celeto encounter the lettered savage at Streat- brated author of the work on The Crediham; but Dr. Johnson had then made ability of Gospel History, proceeded from promise to Mrs. Thrale to have no more his admiration of his talents; and, as quarrels in her house. He acknowledged Lardner was stone deaf, their conversation that he had been wrong; and the candor of was carried on in writing. The friendship his fierce, but not petty nature, prevailed between Lyttleton and Thomson did honor over his passions. The scene that ensued to both, and the kindness shown to Beattie was truly diverting. Mrs. Montagu was was equally creditable to Lyttleton. very stately; she turned away from John- It was in the brilliant sphere of the son, and would scarcely speak to him; 'Queen of the Blues' that Lord Lyttleton whilst Johnson surveyed her like a setter, first encountered the then pale and thoughtlonging for the attack. At length he made poet, whose native elegance of mind gave up to her, with the pacifying address, to a person not graceful, to a "slouching

gait," a certain refinement. A schoolmaster At Fordoun, Beattie enjoyed the society from the obscure hamlet of Laurencekirk in of the singular Lord Monboddo, author of Kincardine, the son of a small retail shop- the forgotten work entitled Ancient Metakeeper, Beattie was not only Nature's poet, physics. From that retired village Beattie but Nature's gentleman; no vices, no im- was eventually transplanted to Aberdeen, prudences, disfigured his beautiful but in- and raised from his occupation as a school felicitous career. In the ivy-covered cottage master to the Professorship of Moral Phiin which his youth was reared, he had im-losophy, a rare transition, but one which bibed early lessons of a piety which strength- the result proved to have been justified by ened with his years; and of a courtesy which the great merits of the humble poet and at once gladdened his humble home, and schoolmaster. accorded well with the refined society of the It was owing to the introduction of a starry hemisphere of "the Blues." By the friend, whose acquaintance he formed at banks of the rivulet, or burn, fringed with Aberdeen, that Beattie first knew Mrs. wild roses, which dashed by his humble Montagu. One can hardly picture her to home, was matured that poetic temperament one's mind in the cultivated but frigid atwhich was singularly rewarded by admiring mosphere of an Edinburgh coterie, surroundcontemporaries. In the parish-school of ed by philosophers speaking broad Scotch, Laurencekirk was his first love for the clas--discoursing with Presbyterian ministers; sics awakened; and here he acquired, among but so it was, for the name of Gregory stood his young companions, the name of "the high in the list of her honored friends, and Poet." But his storehouse lay in that love- in his delightful 'society she first learned to ly scenery of his fatherland,-there, writes estimate the modest worth of Beattie. No his friend and biographer, Sir William personal acquaintance took place, however, Forbes," he had a never-failing resource;" until the poet visited the metropolis, He and in the seclusion of a deeply wooded was in his thirty-seventh year in 1771, and, glen were his first essays in poetry conceiv- it seems, strange to say, was, even at that ed and written.

mature age, wholly ignorant of those charms It is not easy to imagine the violence of and splendors which our capital affords. He the transition to the polished circles of Lon- was soon initiated into some of its most don; Beattie had, indeed, when he first agreeable resources, passed several days entered these tabooed precincts, attained with Johnson, visited Garrick and Armsomething like a position in society. He strong, and formed with Lyttleton a friendbegan life as a village schoolmaster in the ship that only ceased with their lives. obscure village of Fordoun, at the foot of Beattie must have been, at this period of the Grampians; and here he also fulfilled his life, a most interesting, not to say capthe office of precentor, or parish-clerk. tivating, personage. We have talked of his Around him there was no society, excepting'slouching gait," and we may conceive, with that of an honest, and, in Scotland, not little difficulty, the effect of his Scottish illiterate peasantry; and of the parish cler- accent and idiom. But let us remember gyman, where he found a more congenial those features as depicted by the pencil of converse but he communed there with na- Reynolds,-sharp and expressive, and im. ture, and was happy. In after-times his parting that undefinable idea of refinement heart revealed those simple scenes and haunts :

Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down,
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
With here and there a violet bestrown,
Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave.

which many handsomer faces want! Let us recall his black and piercing eyes, "with an expression of sensibility bordering on melancholy" when in repose, but brightening into animation when he addressed those whom he loved. He afterwards--I grieve to say it of any poet-grew corpulent; but By an accident, however, he was drawn at this time he carried with him to those from his obscurity. One day, Mr. Garden, levées of talent a spare person, and the rare afterwards Lord Ganestoun, who happened qualities of a mind which I shall briefly to be living in that, neighborhood, discover- characterize. ed the poet in his favorite glen, writing.

His imagination was, perhaps, subserviMr. Garden was a man of discernment and ent to his taste. The cultivation of his kindness; he took the young schoolmaster mind had been carried almost to what huunder his protection, and the subsequent man nature can conceive of perfection, his fate of Beattie was determined, chief acquirements being in moral science.

As a professor, he was revered; as a friend discharged a sacred duty in securing to them and companion, fondly cherished. In lite- the Harleian Manuscripts bequeathed to her rature he held an eminent place. The by her father and grandfather, and placing deepest piety, a true sensibility and gentle- them in the British Museum. Her temper ness, and a humility sincere as it was rare, was cheerful, her disposition liberal: let one softened and elevated all his mental attri- little anecdote, the best tribute to her mebutes. mory, be given. When Dr. Beattie visited As the poet joined in the chequered socie- her at Bulstrode, he was surprised, one day, ty of those gay saloons, all, but especially at being summoned to speak with the duchthe sympathetic fair, might remark that he ess in private: he obeyed. The duchess was not happy. A cankering care pursued then, with infinite delicacy, regretted the him. His wife erst Miss Mary Dun, whom great expense to which he must have been he had married for love-was deranged; put in visiting England, and requested that indeed, so wayward had been her temper, he would accept what she called a "trifle," that the open outbreak of her disorder was a note for a hundred pounds. Beattie almost a relief to her sorrowing husband. declined her proposal, but was gratified, and He had watched her in every stage of that not, as a weaker man would have been, harrowing malady, and then, finding all pained, by the well-meant and munificent remedies hopeless, he endeavored to procure offering. And few persons could, perhaps, her every alleviation. Their union was not have performed the delicate part of a benechildless, but two sons, perhaps mercifully, factress so well as the Duchess of Portland. died long before their father. Her countenance is described as being full Suffering under this silent sorrow, Beattie of sweetness and intelligence; her person, first visited London, where all home troubles of dignity. "I found her," says Miss Burseem, in the busy haunts of men, so imper-ney, very charming, high-bred, courteous, tinent, where few, perhaps, knew, fewer sensible, and spiritual; not merely free cared to know, that he had a wife, and from pride, but free from affability-its where any loss that does not affect the most mortifying deputy." maintenance of an establishment is talked Long lingered many of these famed guests of so lightly. At all events, people should put off their sorrows till the end of the season; grief is quite out of place while the opera lasts. So think people now, and so, in all probability, thought they then.

in the saloons of Montagu House, but, by degrees, death thinned their ranks. First, in 1773, we hear of Mrs. Montagu's "state of health being very indifferent; she complains of a feverish attack, which had But whilst the minstrel, courted and in- haunted her the greatest part of the sumvited, sits at Mrs. Montagu's dinner-table, mer." Is, then, the empress of all heartsor wanders amid the less exclusive evening the star of the west-the good, the erudite, meetings of "the Blues," there enters a lady, the still gay, still blessed one, hastening to before whom the doors are thrown wide her last home? No, she is only heart-sick open, and the lofty name resounds from for the death of her friend, Lord Lyttleton. mouth to mouth, and the hostess advances Next-it is true, many years afterwards, in even to the very vestibule to welcome her 1785-we find Dr. Beattie recording the guest, and the exclamation, "My dear ma- virtues of the great duchess. She, too, is dam, you do me much honor!" falls from gone. The splendors of Bulstrode are centhe lips even of the Queen of the Blues. tred in her funeral. Her cabinet of ouriThe flattered stranger is "the great Duchess osities beholds her no more. "I had flatof Portland," as she was called, the female tered myself," writes Beattie, "that great Mecænas of her day. Inheriting from her ornament of her sex would have lived for father, the son of the minister Harley, a many years;" but he was mistaken. He noble estate, that of Bulstrode in Bucking-lived to mourn over the death of Mrs. Monhamshire, from her mother, Lady Henri- tagu at a good old age-fourscore. For etta Cavendish, the only daughter and years before a failure in eyesight had made heiress of John Holles, duke of Newcastle, writing very painful to her, but her vivacity, a princely fortune,-married, in early life, to and a singular charm of manner, are said to the Duke of Portland, this lady devoted her have been retained to the last. Her long days to literature and virtù. Her house and one might suppose, happy life, ended was the resort of the really great: she spared with the century. The year 1800 saw her neither time nor money in forming her cele- not. She expired in 1799, having lived to brated collections; whilst to the public she see many flourishing and younger trees felled

by death before her. In March, Dr. Beattie closed her cloudless career. Her intellects sorrowed for her;, in April, a stroke of palsy remained unimpaired, and deafness seemed took away his speech for eight days. Death the sole inconvenience which old age hovered over his couch long, but forbore to brought to her. There are those who restrike the final blow until the month of June, member still chatting with her in her room 1803; for a year previously he had been in Clarges, Street, all around her in much altogether deprived of the use of his limbs. disorder, and even dirt; but the old, deThis was not all: that sensitive and delicate eaying trunk still firm, seemingly. She mind had been broken down by domestic was not, however, immortal, and the year sorrow and it is believed, not being denied 1805 closed her career. And, perhaps, by Sir William Forbes, that the pious, the whilst the ink with which we record that gentle, the heaven-aspiring minstrel, solac-event is not dry, it may be remarked that it ed, or strove to solace, those inward cares with wine: "I never," says his biographer, saw him so much affected by it as to be unfitted for business or conversation,"-a sad admission.

Mrs. Carter still existed: most of her contemporaries were gone. Mrs. Montagu, during her own decline, had touchingly written to her old friend that "her sight was now almost entirely gone, but that one of its latest uses would be to write to her." But now this communication was silent, that hand was cold. Surrounded, however, by friends who loved her, Elizabeth Carter

is not very probable that we shall see in our days such women again. They were beings of a high stamp, indeed, coined with no alloy of littleness or envy. They had none of the perversity nor daringness of the esprits forts; and whilst their minds were masculine, their manners were gentle. Long, long will it be before the "Blues" can look for another such a queen; and could she, and would she, arise, where could she look for such subjects as those who thronged at the bidding of Mrs. Montagu to Portman Square?

From the Edinburgh Review.

LAMARTINE'S HISTORY OF THE GIRONDINS.

Histoire des Girondins. Par M. A. DE LAMARTINE: Paris, 1847. 8 vols. 8vo.

PUBLIC expectation could not fail to be writings, together with the personal associgreatly raised, when it was announced that ations which belong to religious and liteM. de Lamartine was employed in writing rary sympathies, have throughout the vicisthe history of some of the most remarkable situdes of politics enabled him to continue men, by whom one of the most remarkable in friendly relations with the party most periods and parties of the French Revolu- opposed to the Revolution and its results. tion was most distinguished. Little doubt The Faubourg St. Germain regarded him could exist that the labors of such a writer as a man whose conclusions and votes would produce a striking and attractive work. But there were some who expected that M. de Lamartine's history would still more interest, and possibly instruct his countrymen, by offering a view of the Revolution very different in its political bearing from that, in which it has been the tendency of recent writers to represent, and of the French public in general to regard it. Though an adherent of the existing dynasty and institutions, though in fact at present a member of a liberal opposition, yet M. de Lamartine's attachment to the Church of Rome and the romantic character of his

were mischievous: but whose writings and speeches were calculated to serve their cause, by fostering a spirit opposed to the democratic tendencies of modern France. They trusted that, even if he did not venture openly to assail the principles of the Revolution, and defend the ancien régime, a sentimental and imaginative writer could not tell the tale of those times without exciting sympathy in behalf of those who had fallen victims to their devotion to the altar and the throne, and arousing indignation against the cause that was soiled by the irreligion and atrocities of the Commune