The season was too far advanced to encourage the expectation of a numerous audience; but it was thought advisable to make the experiment, in order that the public, by a knowledge of what was to be expected from such a course, might be better prepared for the renewal of it in the next year.

An undertaking of this kind, supported by such acknowledged powers of execution, was a novelty in the metropolis, of a pleasing and promising nature. From the literary taste and character of our countrymen, it might reasonably be expected, that a considerable interest would be gradually excited by a public lecture, undertaken in illustration of the most celebrated writers of antiquity by a scholar and critic so equal to the office. To many descriptions of persons such instructions must prove highly acceptable and useful; and all by whom they were attended in the present instance, notwithstanding the supposed triteness of the subject, will readily acknowledge the high degree of satisfaction they expe

ledge in classic literature. It is presumed also, that the Lecturer's long and diligent attention to such subjects may render his performance not wholly uninstructive to scholars of superior proficiency, who may be induced to give their attendance from an opinion, on the importance of classical information, congenial with his own.

rienced. For a public instructor, Mr. Wakefield was eminently qualified. The variety of his information, his correct and lively taste, with the assistance of his retentive memory, supplied a copious store of materials for the ready illustration of every beauty, and every difficulty.

The delivery of these lectures occupied his attention till the beginning of July. He then finished the first course, designing to resume them in the ensuing spring. But, in the midst of the congratulations of his friends on his recovered liberty, and his own plans for futurity, he began to feel the symptoms of a disorder, which quickly put an end to his valuable life.

How far his constitution, though apparently still firm, had sustained any serious injury by a confinement of two years, it is, perhaps, impossible to state with any degree of confidence. Certain it is, however, that, after his liberation, he was by no means equal to those exertions of body, which he had previously sustained without any inconvenience.

As his lectures were delivered in London, the fatigue of this employment was materially increased by his walks from Hackney, during a season unusually warm. He was likewise unfortunately much occupied during the inter

val of his lectures in going about in search of a permanent residence for his family.

Though he felt himself occasionally indisposed by the fatigue which he underwent, he was not at all aware of any serious consequences from this sudden change in his habits of life, till the latter end of August.

About the middle of that month one of the present writers visited him at Hackney, and was highly gratified by his appearance of health and spirits. On the 21st, he received a letter from him, which indicated nothing of the sad change which was approaching. On the 27th of August, however, in a letter addressed to both his daughters, then on a visit at Richmond, (a letter peculiarly valued by them, as the last he ever wrote) he says, "I was more indisposed last night, than I have been for some years, in a burning fever and excessive heat of the head; and so I continued through the greater part of this day, but am better tonight."

Two or three days passed before he thought himself so seriously indisposed as to require medical aid. Mr. Toulmin of Hackney now attended him. His friend Dr. Pett, with unremitting anxiety, watched the progress of his disorder. Dr. Lister and Dr. Wm. Hamilton

very generously exerted their skill in his behalf. But every effort of art or attention was found to be in vain. His disorder, which was a typhus fever, after a very few days made rapid advances. His head was soon affected, though, even through this cloud over his intellects, his language occasionally discovered the taste of the scholar and the piety of the Christian. At length, disabled by his disorder from gratifying his friends with his conversation, he still appeared to know them, and but a very few hours before he expired, he expressed to one of the present writers his recollection of their friendship, in a manner which he cannot easily forget, "while memory holds her place."

Of the commencement and early progress of our friend's indisposition, we are not able to speak from our personal knowledge, as we were absent in the country, and knew not of his danger till three days before his death, when we hastened to offer him our assistance, but could do little more than mingle our unavailing regrets with those of his family and friends.

One of the medical gentlemen, whom we have just mentioned, and who we are persuaded never regretted the imperfection of his art more

deeply than on this occasion, has favoured one of the present writers with some particulars relative to Mr. Wakefield's disorder. We trust that we shall be kindly excused the liberty we take of inserting a letter designed only for private use, as it affords the most satisfactory account which can be given of this affecting eyent.

DEAR SIR,

I FEEL myself extremely at a loss in what way to comply with your wishes. Even in circumstances the most favourable to distinct recollection, I should shrink from the attempt to draw up a connected and detailed account of the last illness of our eminently excellent and lamented friend: but at this distance of time, it is utterly impossible for me to communicate to you any thing more than a few meagre and detailed hints. The circumstances which a faithless memory will enable me to put down, you will have the goodness to dispose of in any way your judgment may direct.

I perfectly recollect my walking from Hackney to town with him, and Mr. Kentish, on the Monday immediately preceding his illIt must have been on the 24th of August. I accompanied him to Mr. Artaud's, to see his portrait. I never saw him in higher

ness.