not unchequered with fears, difficulties, twenty-four hours, under the key which has been in your own custody. The hours of darkness I have spent in gazing on the

and dangers."

"My lot were more than mortal were it otherwise," said the earl; "proceed fa-heavenly bodies with these dim eyes, and ther, and believe you speak with one ready during those of light I have toiled this to undergo his destiny in action and in pas- aged brain to complete the calculation sion, as may beseem a noble of England." arising from their combinations. Earthly Thy courage to do and to suffer, food I have not tasted-earthly voice must be wound up yet a strain higher," have not heard -You are yourself aware said the old man. "The stars intimate I had no means of doing so-and yet I yet a prouder title, yet a higher rank, tell you who have been thus shut up It is for thee to guess their meaning, not in solitude and study-that within these for me to name it." predominant in the horizon, and either the twenty-four hours your star has become bright book of heaven speaks false, or there must have been a proportionate revolution in your fortunes upon earth. If nothing has happened within that space to secure your power, or advance favour, then am I indeed a cheat, and the divine art, which was first devised in the plains of Chaldæa, is a foul imposture."

"Name it, I conjure you-name it, I command you," said the earl, his eyes brightening as he spoke.

6.66

may not, and I will not," replied the old man. "The ire of princes is as the wrath of the lion. But mark, and judge for thyself. Here Venus, ascendant in the House of Life, and conjoined with Sol, showers down that flood of silver light, blent with gold, which promises power, wealth, dignity, all that the proud heart of man desires, and in such abundance, that never the future Augustus of that old and mighty Rome heard from his Haruspices such a tale of glory, as from this rich text my lore might read to my favourite son."

"Thou doest but jest with me, father," said the earl, astonished at the strain of enthusiasm in which the astrologer delivered his prediction.

Is it for him to jest who hath his eye on heaven, who hath his foot on the grave?" returned the old man, solemnly. The Earl made two or three strides through the apartment, with his hand out stretched, as one who follows the beckon ing signal of some phantom, waving him on to deeds of high import. As he turned, however, he caught the eye of the astrologer fixed on him, while an observing glance of the most shrewd penetration shot from under the penthouse of his shaggy white eye-brows. Leicester's haughty and suspicious soul at once caught fire; he darted towards the old man from the further end of the lofty apartment, only standing still when his extended hand was within a foot of the astrologer's body.

"Wretch !" he said, "if you dare to palter with me, I will have your skin stripped from your living flesh-Confess thou hast been hired to deceive and to betray me-that thou art a cheat, and I thy silly prey and booty!"

The old man exhibited some symptoms of emotion, but not more than the furious deportment of his patron might have extorted from innocence itself.

What means this violence, my lord?" he answered, "or in what can I have deserved it at your hand?" "Give me proof," said the Earl, vehemently, "that you have not tampered

with mine enemies."

66

with dignity,
My lord," replied the old man,
you can have no better
proof than that which you yourself elect-
ed. In that turret I have spent the last

666

your

"It is true," said Leicester, after a moment's reflection, "thou wert closely immured-and it is also true that the change has taken place in my situation which thou sayest the horoscope indicates.'

"Wherefore this distrust, then, my son," said the astrologer, assuming a tone of admonition; "the celestial intelligences brook not diffidence, even in their favourites."

Peace, father," answered Leicester, I erred. Not to mortal man, nor to celestial intelligence-under that which is Supreme-will Dudley's lips say more in condescension or apology. Speak rather to the present purpose-Amid these bright promises thou hast said there was a threatening aspect-Can thy skill tell whence, or by whose means, such danger seems to impend?"

The Life of Voltaire, with interesting
Particulars respecting his Death, and
Anecdotes and Characters of his
Contemporaries. By Frank Hall
Standish, Esq. 8vo. pp. 393. Lon-
don, 1821.

IT is a trite observation, that the life of an author is to be found in his works; but, if the biographer adopts such a maxim, he will only make an article of many, who, falling into the opposite bibliography: this has been felt by extreme, have merely compiled a series of anecdotes. Both these systems are, in our opinion, equally remote from the real nature of biography, which should contain a faithful portrait of its subject in his public and private capacity, as a scholar and as a man. He should be pointed out as an example to follow or avoid; for, if biography have not a moral lesson in view, it is worse than useless. If such be the real character of biography, we are compelled to avow that our author has not come

up to the idea. His work is a mass of materials, collected from various sources, which he has neither been at the pains to connect nor harmonize. occasion does he identify himself with his subject; he is, by turns, a weak adOn no vocate and a feeble adversary: his admiration is tame, and his censure spiritless; the same equivocal character reigns as to his religious opinions; he is a professor of Deism and Christianity by turns ;-indeed, he seems to have loger, "does my art enable me to an find him begin a digression in one prinThus far only," answered the astro-religion, and it is not uncommon to no fixed principles in either politics or swer your query. The infortune is threatened by the malignant and adverse aspect, ciple and write himself into another bethrough means of a youth,-and, as ifore its close: if we add to these, the think, a rival; but whether in love or in frequency of bad grammar and the reprince's favour, I know not; nor can I dundancy of false images, with, here give farther indication respecting him, save and there, real beauties of a superior that he comes from the western quarter." order, but which lose their merit by ter, "it is enough-the tempest does in- correct idea of the life of Voltaire by The western-ha!" replied Leices-being misplaced, we have a pretty deed brew in that quarter!-Cornwall and Devon-Raleigh and Tressilian-one of Frank Hall Standish, Esq. Yet, with them is indicated-I must beware of both. all these faults, our author has conFather, if I have done thy skill injus- trived to make an amusing anecdotic pense." tice, I will make thee a lordly recom-work, but which is any thing but a biography of Voltaire.

Mr. Standish commences with an in

strong casket which stood before him-
He took a purse of gold from the
"Have thou double the recompense troductory chapter on the state of
which Varney promised.-Be faithful-be France during the 16th and 17th cen-
secret-obey the directions thou shalt re-turies, to enable the readers more com-
ceive from my master of the horse, and pletely to appreciate the miseries under
grudge not a little seclusion or restraint which that nation laboured previous to
in my cause-it shall be richly consider the appearance of Voltaire.' Such an
ed. Here, Varney-conduct this venera-
ble man to thine own lodging-tend him essay, if properly written, would be a
heedfully in all things, but see that he valuable document and a proper vesti-
holds communication with no one."'
bule to the monument he proposed to
erect to the memory of Voltaire; but,

(To be concluded in our next.)

alas, our author has merely selected a few isolated facts, which are far from displaying the state and progress of opinion in France during that period. The head lines of some of the pages shall supply the place of criticism:Reformation, Invention of Print ing,'-'Sale of Indulgences,'- Birth of Luther,Order of the Augustins,' Calvin,'-Progress of Superstition,' -- Profession of Magic,'--'Laws against Duelling,' &c. &c. We will only

they envy him; and the lips that flatter pel, like the waters from a high moun-
his foibles, proclaim to the world the fol-tain whose head is concealed by clouds,
lies of his unguarded confidence. Emi- becomes disturbed and contaminated in
of bitterness; history relates that the head rather singular, that, among those men,
nence of every description has this cup its course through the human heart. It is
of Jesus was crowned with thorns. Yet, the practice of moderation should fall so
while we bow to the rod of fate, we must far short of the precept, and that they
hesitate to what divinity to ascribe the at- should be so desirous of mingling together
tributes of our existence. The fire of divine and human things,-a practice
youth, like the freedom of an impetuous from which every good Christian ought
horse, may spring indignant from the spur to abstain.'
of injustice; even that is less felt the
longer we live, and the more it is used;
and, at last, we fall into a quiet and indif-
feel, or think. The clergy may boast
that insensibility is the precious fruit of
piety and devotion,-the unprotected can
tell envy, malice, and persecution, to be
evils incident to humanity.'

We may here take occasion to reprobate the author's propensity to

make one remark on this heterogene-ferent scepticism as to what others say, or gross and indelicate ideas clad in simi

ous mass of materials; it is, that our author has discovered that the art of printing was known to the Romans, and cites Cicero de Natura Deorum. We should have been more obliged to him had he cited the passage instead of the title of the work.

We now enter upon the life of Voltaire: the author's account of his youth is very fairly related, but he seems anxious, at every moment, to fly off at a tangent: at every proper naine he abandons his subject to tell you some particulars of the person named; thus, he cannot refrain from giving us the life of Moliere, his literary productions, &c. to his death;' next follows a digression upon the Jesuits, inserted, apparently, to inculcate the doctrines that, if even the deadliness of envy or malice entirely occupied the human breast, its excess has been found among the clergy-and priests, like women, are seldom satisfied but with the exter

lar expressions. We are not now in the age of Moliere and Dryden, and if our morals be not improved, at least, the sense of shame is more acute; and few but Mr. Standish would venture to We confess we do not see what the offend the ear of delicacy either in writpassion of our Saviour and the newing or conversation, which, to say the fact, that insensibility is the precious least of it, is bad taste. fruit of piety and devotion, have to do with either Voltaire or satire; but, perliaps, in the next edition, our author will tell us.

Our author now condescends to return to Voltaire; but, in an instant, he flies off to give us the lives of the Duke de Richelieu, Baron Goertz, and the Marquise de Villars: this would all be amusing enough if we were not anxiously expecting a life of Voltaire. We presume Mr. Standish has not been to court, as he would then have learnt that a superior is not presented to an inferior; but vice versa.

mination of the object of their hatred.'tle to Urania: the persecutions of
Mr. Standish is a bold man thus, in
one sacrificing clause, to declare war
against the representatives of the divi-
nity in heaven and our divinities on
earth; for our part, we had rather
quarrel with all the world beside than
with those two classes: but, as Rabe-
lais said to his lawyer, retournons à nos
moutons, where is Voltaire? be patient,
reader, our author has first to make
the following remarks on satire :—

We turn with pleasure to a passage which displays our author in a more advantageous point of view; it is on the feelings of a person returning from exile:—

'After a residence of three years in England, the voice of friendship, or perhaps of the minister, recalled Voltaire to Paris. He yielded to its entreaties, and more especially to that natural and spontaneous instinct which always recalls us with pleasure to the place of our birth, and which has its charms, in spite of whatever injustice or inconveniences we may have there experienced. The theorist may speculate in his closet, or the poliIn 1736, Voltaire published his Epis-tician may devise schemes for the more perfect government of the kingdom from the time endered subterfuge neces- father and the friend will overflow at the which he is an exile; but the heart of the sary; the author was obliged to disa- mention of the welfare of that land, in vow his work, and attribute it to the which he spent the earlier part of a life, Abbé de Chanlieu :' how does the bio- which may have been subsequently vagrapher vindicate this conduct of Vol-ried by good or evil; where he first estaire? Why, he tells us that this species timated the blessings of those to whom he of concealment (is this the right word? looked up with gratitude and with awe, may be allowed in literary composi- before he could comprehend the attritions, and that this work, of pure deist-butes of a superior Being, and to those early recollections which promised bright ical principles, could not have the days of future happiness with those who tendency of hurting the Abbé's charac- have been subsequently separated by dist A libel is the natural offspring of a ter as a Christian or a scholar.' We ance or by death.' weak head and corrupt heart, and is some-apprehend that neither of the parties times to be found still emanating even would feel flattered by this apology from a christian teacher, or protestant and explanation. A layman writes clergyman of the present century. against revealed religion and attributes High birth, unattended by riches or by talents much as it may adorn a draw-it to a priest, as it cannot hurt his chaing-room or add to the splendour of a racter! for, says he,— court, and conduce to the good reception of the possessor among persons of the same rank, attracts little notice and little envy from others but money or wit pays heavier tribute to censure, than the social qualities of the owner, whoever he may be, can redeem. He who occupies a situation independent of the world, is regarded with distrust both by his superiors and inferiors; they hate because

This passage is not devoid of the general faults of the author, but were his general sentiments as unexceptionable, our task would be less painful; and we cannot but deprecate the idea, taken as a general thesis, that the death of a The clergy were, and always have father is the most secret and sincere been, more eager for the temporal pu- wish of an expectant son :' and placed, nishment of a heretic than his eternal as it is, in relation with that event hapdamnation. Those who discussed the pening to Voltaire's father, it implies a opinions which they maintained, and were slander on Voltaire which we know to alone supposed able to defend them, were be unfounded; but this is the mischief persecuted with all the bitterness of insatiable malice and perverted zeal; and of our author's constant effort at moralthus the pure stream of unity and bro-izing, and giving 'opinions exclusively therly love, which springs from the Gos- his own,' and some of them are whim

"here is the innocent

sical enough: when a prosecuted man had, under the title of Le Docteur Aka- the disposal of your Majesty. I have alforgets his injuries, the state ought to kia, written a most severe satire against ways been too much devoted to your Maremit the cause of complaint,' p. 136; Maupertuis, which he was about to send jesty, not to sacrifice, to the assurance of 'this Debose, whose name has since to the press, the author was invited, in your kindness, that little revenge which a very polite note, to the palace; and the had appeared to me just, moderate, and ended as it began,' p. 137; there is, moment he arrived, his Majesty told him, consequently innocent. I should cerdoubtless, some wit intended here, if we in a very friendly manner,-"They say tainly make greater sacrifices, if they had wit enough to find it out. The you have written a satire against Mauper- were required from me by your wishes." representations of the stage form a tuis, which is as witty as it is malicious: I "Lose no time," said the King, "I means of coinmunication between men am going to speak to you on that subject shall wait for you; such noble designs who labour after the acquirement of with freedom, and as I think I ought to must not be postponed." Voltaire went knowledge, or are engaged in the pur-speak to a friend. It is not my intention out, and came back immediately with his suit of pleasure,' p. 145; the feelings to argue, that Maupertuis has not done you manuscript in his hand. "Sire," he exof affection die away with those of in-him any. I agree, on the contrary, that going to perish for the people! I put it any injury, or that you have not caused claimed smiling, difference,' p. 145; a rod may be pre- you both have a right to complain; and, into your hands, order its condemnation." pared for the back of fools, even by an in short, I feel and acquiesce in the opi- "Ah, my friend, what fate is mine! to inferior pen,' p. 151; cum multis aliis.nion, that you are in the right to complain, order a punishment for that which deVoltaire's disgust for the world and and I should deliver him up to you with- serves to be crowned with glory. Well! the consequent change of his conduct out difficulty, if I were to take his case let us submit to fate with dignity; let us forms an admirable contrast with the only into consideration; but I beg you be as just as possible; let us revenge the silly nonsense we have just quoted; man into my service; that I have placed save what I can, and it will be a precious will observe, that I have called that victim by its sacrifice. Read; I shall we give it with pleasure:him at the head of my academy; that I remainder, which my memory will keep 'Wearied with the persecutions which have granted to him the same treatment with care; read, and may the pages dehis works excited; disgusted with the in- as to my ministers of state; that I have ad-voured by the flames claim my just admisolence and vanity of other writers; dis-mitted him into my most familiar society; ration. O Vulcan! never was a more appointed, perhaps, in his intercourse with and that I have permitted him to marry memorable thing done, or a greater trithe great; and smarting under the critione of the ladies of honour of the Queen, bute paid to your honour." Voltaire cism of his contemporaries; he thought it the daughter of one of my ministers, a read the whole satire; he was every monecessary to change his mode of life. Lady de Bredow, belonging to one of the ment interrupted by the applauses of the The fortune which descended to him most ancient and most considerable fami- monarch, who found all the attacks as from his father, and which had been sub- lies of my kingdom. I have done so lively as they were well applied; they sequently increased, was ample. Thus, much for him, to the knowledge of all were bursting into roars of laughter, and to the advantages of possessing wealth, he Europe, that I cannot consent to his being as they were going to throw it into the added that of being indebted for it to him-held up to ridicule without being compro- fire, the lamentations again burst forth: self, and its use, although it could not de-mised myself. If you cover him with dis- "Come, my friend, cheer up, since it is feat envy, secured him the means of grace, I shall certainly be ridiculed; and, necessary, O Vulcan, cruel and devouring. escaping from unjust oppression. An- if I suffer that, I cause a real scandal: I god, receive thy prey!" and while the cieat philosophers praised poverty, be- shall be blamed for it, and all the nobility book was burning, they performed fancause they made a merit of necessity, or of this country will experience a mortifi-tastic dances round the fire. It was in because riches led to confiscation; and cation, which will be imputed to my for- this way that Doctor Akakia was read to their limited intercourse with foreign bearance. I beg you will consider these the end, and burnt.' countries rendered the secret conveyance circumstances, and see what I can expect of property dangerous and uncertain. from your friendship, and what you owe From the selections we have already Their dealings were mostly confined toto mine, and to reason. I know what it made, it is evident that the work betheir own cities and their own country-costs an author to sacrifice one of his fore us is not entitled to the character men; and the transfer of money was at works, above all, when it is filled with of a biography of Voltaire. The autended with trouble and inconvenience. happy ideas, and when the details are as thor, indeed, seems be acquainted with Their climate also subjected them to fewer agreeable as they are ingenious; but who little more of Voltaire's works than the real wants, and the luxury of the wealthy ought to care less than yourself for a sa-title-pages; for out of seventy volumes, approached more to riot and debauchery, crifice of this sort? A thing which would he cannot find one page worth quoting, than to convenience and comfort.' be irreparable for any other person, is nothing to Voltaire, a man who, above to give us an idea either of the excellenall others in the world, has the most fruit-cies or the faults of his author; there is ful and the finest genius. You are so rich, both in ideas and talents. Your glory is established by so many more important sides, but the wish to make as many more productions! And what do you want beworthy of yourself? doubt, nevertheless, that, in sacrificing the You must not work in question, you will give nie a proof of friendship, which, according to the circumstances, I shall so much the more appreciate. I do not hesitate in of the greatest services. Depend upon it, I telling you, that you will render me one shall never forget it. You may, on your side, expect every thing from my friendship."-"Well," answered Voltaire, " "I will bring the manuscript of my Doctor Akakia, and place it in the hands and at

The portrait of the Marquise de Chatelet is one of our author's happiest sketches, but too long for quotation, and besides, it is not free from immorality; who that ever tasted the sweets of wedded love, will agree with the author, that secret and stolen pleasures are remembered with fervency and devotion,' when the others are obliterated and forgotten? We do not condemn but pity the man possessed of such depraved ideas. The account of Voltaire's connections with the royal poet of Pruss a, will be read with interest; the burning of Voltaire's satire against Maupertuis, is curious, and merits our selection, as being well told:

When Frederic was told, that Voltaire

not a single criticism on any of his nu-
merous productions. Voltaire has been
highly praised and severely censured,
where he found it. He neither tells us
and Mr. Standish leaves the question
of Voltaire, though they have had a
the object nor the results of the works
more powerful effect on public opinion
on the continent, than all the works
published in the 18th century.
Do his principles lead to the support or
Voltaire to be condemned or praised?
the dissolution of society? Were they
instrumental in producing the French
revolution, or is such an effect falsely
attributed to them? On all these

Is

WE have seldom approached the last page of a work with such a feeling of utter despair, as we experienced when we found our fingers playing with the last leaves of this (to us serious) traWe should not add a single remark gedy. In vain had we toiled through to what we have already said, but to exa tract flat and barren, in the hope of press our gratification, that neither the catching sight of something worth makconsciousness of his own talents, nor the ing a remark upon, and to find, that at public approbation, have tainted Mr. last we should have nothing to recomNeele with the poet's failing,-vanity; pense our readers for the time we had but that he is as modest and unassum-lost in the task (we say to recompense ing as when he first ventured his frail bark on the ocean of public opinion.