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are here, also by the author's wish, printed in closer sequence and connection than formerly with the Dialogues, to which, however differing in form, they essentially belong. Take from them only such beauties, and you do not bring with you from the Pentameron the rich Italian colour, or from Pericles and Aspasia the faultless Greek simplicity, or from Shakespeare's Examination what makes the book unique. In the last there is a charm which consists in the fact that its hero, not yet the author of the wonderful plays, is merely the lad who is to grow into that greatest of men; but this is in the nature of a secret known to the reader only, and, everybody else in the book being whimsically unconscious of it, including the youth himself, it is not to be enjoyed but by reading the whole.

For these and other reasons the intended Selections from Landor's Writings have been abandoned, and the Edition which accompanies this revised Life will under every head comprise the completed work, with the author's last revision. There will be omission only of such parts of the poetical writings as he had himself deliberately rejected. It will open with the Dialogues of Greeks and Romans; and Shakespeare's Examination for Deer-Stealing will complete that volume. Then will follow the Conversations of Sovereigns and Statesmen, which Landor had himself so brought together; and with them the five Dialogues of Boccaccio and Petrarca, first published as the Pentameron. The next volume will contain the First Series of Conversations of Literary Men; and its successor, the Second Series; together with

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two subjects having always such close connection in Landor's thoughts that he intended at one time to have issued them apart from the rest, the Dialogues of Famous Women, and the Letters of Pericles and Aspasia. A volume of Miscellaneous Conversations will finish this collection of his important prose writings. But there will be a volume of Imaginary Scenes and Conversations in Verse, so entitled by himself, which will include his tragedies as well as his minor dramatic pieces; and into another and final volume, under the name he gave to it of Earliest and Latest Leaves from the Old Tree, will fall all his minor pieces in verse and prose, and the whole of his poems not in the dramatic form. That will complete the Edition, and to the prose portion there will be a careful Index.

Of the form in which the Biography of Landor accompanies this new Edition of his Works, I crave permission to state that the pains and care bestowed upon its revision have not been less than were given to the composition of it. While every objection to the form in which it originally appeared that seemed to be reasonable has been considered and as far as possible remedied, nothing material has been omitted. The condensation has been effected by leaving out letters and extracts from Landor's writings, but everything characteristic in the matter thus put aside has been retained in substance or narrative; and with some confidence I now dismiss the book as an honest and faithful picture of a man who took distinguished rank among

the greatest of his contemporaries, and is as likely as the best to hold his place with many future generations of Englishmen.

Palace-Gate House, Kensington.

The date of the very interesting communication which follows, from my friend Mr. Charles Reade, reveals how long this work has been waiting the result of my attempted substitution of Selections for the Completed Works, in the Edition that was to accompany it. Mr. Reade's anecdotes of his father did not reach me until the Biography had been printed in its present shape; but happily they corroborate in all respects its account of Landor's school days, and their vivacity and worth make them a valuable addition to the volume.

J. F.

2 Albert-terrace, Knightsbridge, October 5th, 1872.

This is the little gossip I promised you. Valeat quantum.

My late father told these and many other Rugby stories with a great deal of gusto and point. I wish I had listened more seriously. However, in these few I have recollected the very phrases of Doctor James and of Landor, whose youthful genius made a great impression on my father, himself a man above the common. Yours very sincerely,

CHARLES READE.

My father, John Reade of Ipsden, Oxon, was sent to Rugby at eight years of age.

Next day, in the afternoon, a much bigger boy espied him, and said, 'Hy, you new boy, I want you.'

It was to carry a casting-net. Little Reade found it rather heavy.

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Master Landor cast the net several times in a certain water, and caught nothing. Thereupon he blamed his attendant. You are the cause of this,' said he. 'I begin to fear you are a boy of ill omen' (sic).

He cast again, and drew a blank.

'Decidedly,' said Master Landor, 'you are a boy of ill omen. 'However,' says he, 'we won't lay it on the Fates till we have ' tried all mortal means. Sapiens dominabitur astris. We must 'poach a little.'

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Accordingly he proceeded to a forbidden preserve. At the gate stood a butcher, contemplating heifers at feed.

'I say, butcher, let me fish the brook there.' 'Well, sir, 't ain't mine.'

'Then what objection can you possibly have?'

'Why, master, I ha'n't no objection; but you see~'

'Much obliged,' says this smart boy, and entered the field directly, cast in the brook, but caught nothing.

'Reade,' said he, 'this is not to be borne. You are a boy • of too ill omen. Now here is a favourite hole: if I catch nothing in it, I shall yield to your evil Destiny; but I warn you 'I shall make you carry the net home, and I shall flick you all

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my handkerchief.'

way with my

Little Reade looked very rueful at that. The net, even when dry, had seemed mortal heavy to him, and he began to calculate. how much more it would weigh when wet and dirty.

The net was cast-a good circle-drawn steadily to land, and lo! struggling in its meshes a pike of really unusual size.

Master Landor raised a shout of triumph, then instantly remembering his partner, he turned to Master Reade. • Welcome 'to Rugby, sir, welcome! You are a boy of excellent omen. I'll carry the net home, and you shall sup off this fish; it is 'the joint production of my skill and your favourable Star.'

Next day there was a complaint against him for fishing out of bounds.

'Mr. X. (the butcher) gave me leave,' said he, quietly.

There were seven boys in the school of the name of Hill. The boys wanted a half-holiday, and came to Landor. 'Write 'to old James for one,' said they. Landor consented, and wrote a copy of verses, wherein he compared Rugby to Rome, because it was built on Seven Hills.

'Ah,' said the Doctor, 'I don't ask you who wrote this, for

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'there is only one of you with the brains to do it. Half-holi'day? Yes.'

One day in full school Master Landor had an apple of singular size and beauty. He had his Livy in one hand and this apple in the other, and read and read, and munched and munched, till the sound struck the Doctor. He espied the delinquent, and ordered him to bring that apple to him. He put it on his desk coram populo; and then, half relenting, said, There, sir. Now, if you want that again, you had better go

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' and sit down and make me a short line on the occasion.'

'O, I can do that and stand here,' says Master Landor.
'Do it, then.'

The boy thought a minute, and soon obliged him with a pentameter:

'Esuriens doctor dulcia poma rapit.'

'Hum?' says Doctor James.

'And pray, sir, what do you

mean by E-su-riens doctor?'

'The gor-man-dising doctor.'

'Take it, sir: you are too hard for me; you are too hard for me,' said the Doctor, delighted with his pupil.

This Doctor James was an enthusiast. My father told me he heard a class construing a fine passage of Lucretius to him, and no doubt making mincemeat of the author; for presently the Doctor roared out, 'Ye don't taste him, sir; ye don't taste him!' and instantly construed the passage finely, and, in his ardour, went on beyond the limits of the lesson. Observing which too late, he turned the whole school out into the playground. Get along,' said he; 'I have rescued one Poet out of your jaws.'

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