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Why, madam, it may do to lock up your even cook and scullion. Such perseverance bread and cheese in, and that's all it's fit in one particular linc did not ensure success for," was the reply.
in another, and the treasury accounts soon
partook of that confusion which generally “We are tempted to give one more anecdote of reigned where Hook was concerned. Upon this extraordinary being, especially as the subject this unfortunate subject his biographer has of our memoir was himself one of the parties added little to what has already appeared in therein concerned. They both had been dining the pages of the Quarterly, (vol. Ixxiii,) and with the late Mr. Stephen Price, the manager of from which it has been now long and geneDrury Lane Theatre, and as the host showed unequivocal symptoms of indisposition--he was suf rally understood, that whatever errors there fering severely from sout in the hand—the party
were upon the part of Theodore, they were broke up early; and all but Cannon and Hook not of a venial character, being simply ertook their leave by about eleven o'clock. Upon rors of omission, of oversight, and neglect. them every possible hint short of absolute rude. Hook, it may be observed, without being ness was expended in vain; a small table had of a remarkably superstitious turn of mind, been wheeled up close to the fire, amply furnish
was yet not prepared to discredit spiritual, ed with potations, such as they loved, and they
or, as some foolishly call them, supernatural were not to be wiled away. At length, unable
existences. to endure the increasing pain, Price quietly summoned up an inexhaustible supply of • black
“Philosophers,” he says, in a preface to spirits and white,' and, leaving his guests to min “Martha the Gypsey," "may prove, and, gle as they might, stole off unobserved to bed. in the might of their ignorance, develop and Next morning, about nine, his servant entered his disclose, argue and discuss, but when the
sage who sneers at the possibility of ghosts, "Well, sir," said Price, on awaking, “pray will explain to me the doctrine of attraction at what time did those two gentlemen go last night?'
and gravitation, or tell me why the wind ** Go, sir ?' repeated the man.
blows, why the tides ebb and flow, or why "" I asked ye, sir, at what time did Mr. Hook the light shines —effects perceptible by all and Mr. Cannon go?'
men-then will I admit the justice of his “Oh, they are not gone yet, sir,' replied John; | incredulity—then will I join the ranks of 'they've just rung for coffee !" ".
A case is related as having fallen more There were redeeming traits in Cannon's immediately under Hook's observation, which character, lively generosity and pre-eminent appears to be the counterpart of that redisinterestedness, which it is to be hoped will lated in Leigh Hunt's "Town,” as connectsurvive his errors.
ed with Lord Craven's house. Hook was, Spite of his talents and conversational however, decidedly superstitious upon some powers, Hook was unfortunate in his affaires points. He always gravely maintained, that de cæur, the first of which his biographer his miseries, consequent upon the Mauritius places on record as having occurred during deficit, were foreshadowed to him in the a brief sojourn at Sunbury. While at this course of his voyage homeward, by a visitaplace, the name of the inn, " The Flower tion from the original “Flying Dutchman.” Pot,” suggested to Hook one of his practical He had also a marked dislike to being the jokes ; the termination of which not being thirteenth in company. One of his friends, upon record, leaves it questionable if it was who was himself suspected of a leaning the of a character to redound to the credit of same way, notes in the following words an the chief actor therein.
instance of this weakness : In 1812 Hook was, his biographer hints,
“ Dined at
; we were seated twelve in through the influence of “the fair of May Fair,” presented with the appointment of number, when Hook arrived. He looked at first accountant-general and treasurer at the Mau- being told that Y—, the actor
, was expected,
very black on finding himself the thirteenth, but ritius, worth about £2,000 a year. Neither, immediately took his seat, and the evening passed however, the heat of the climate nor the du- off merrily enough. An anecdote was given in ties and responsibilities of his situation could the course of conversation singularly corroboracalm the characteristic exuberance of his tive of the superstition by which Hook was clear. spirits. On the occasion of a public dinner, ly at first affected. A party of twelve had just
sat down, and one of the guests having observed the new accountant-general amused himself, and frightened the island out of its propri- hardly like to be the person destined to occupy
a vacant chair, was remarking that he should ety, by firing salutes to the honor of every that seat, when a tremendous double rap was person present, soldier or civilian, including heard—the door was thrown open, and Mr.
Fauntleroy* announced-he was hanged within of the New Monthly, was in deprecation of the year!
the plan, as not only wearisome to the reader, Hook returned to England, harassed by but positively fatal to anything like fair dedifficulties and pecuniary embarrassments. velopment of plot. “Jack Brag” followed, After a short residence at Somer's-Town,
a sequel to “ Gilbert Gurney," and the porwhere he formed that connection which, trait of a vulgar, vain, and impudent cross with his warm heart and honorable feelings between a tallow-chandler and a sporting he could never dissolve, although he had gentleman, met with great success. Lastly, never sufficient courage to render it sacred
Births, Marriages, and Deaths,” published and indissoluble, and many months of du- . in 1839, was followed, in 1840, by “Prerance vile, he took up his abode at Putney, cepts and Practice,” a collection of short and started, with the assistance of his old papers and tales, which he had contributed friend Daniel Terry, a small periodical, called to the New Monthly during his editorship. “The Arcadian,” but which had little either Two other works, " Fathers and Sons,” and pastoral in its name, or durable in its com
"Peregrine Bunce," were never finished by position. A more important event in Hook's their original author. life was the establishment of the John Bull
The success of his novels enabled Theonewspaper at the close of 1820. It is to the dore Hook to start once more in the world, permanent preservation of the best things He rented an expensive house, furnished it contributed to this paper that the second extravagantly, sought the most fashionable volume of the “Life and Remains” is de
and dissipated society, kept open table and voted. Four years after bis connection with late hours, and had very soon to beat a the John Bull, Hook published the first se
retreat once more to the friendly banks of ries of that collection of tales which, under the Thames, where, in a pretty villa near the title of " Sayings and Doings,” placed Fulham Bridge, he ultimately breathed his him at once in the highest rank of novelists. I last; his end, hastened by a career which This was followed, in 1830, by “ Maxwell,” sical or mental resources, but on the con
had never spared or husbanded either phygenerally considered as the most perfect of his productions ; but of all his works, the trary treated them as gifts only to be valued most mirth-provoking was “ Gilbert Gur- for their brilliancy, and the strain they may ney,” of which his own personal adventures be capable of enduring, entailing thereby the form the groundwork, and which was pub- consequent and inevitable result of a premalished by monthly instalments in the New
ture extinction. Monthly Magazine, upon his undertaking the within sixteen years—the author being all
The production of thirty-eight volumes editorship of that long-established favorite the while editor, and almost sole writer
, of in 1836. Hook deprecated the practice, now all but universal among popular novel
a newspaper, and for several years the effiists, of delivering his tale by monthly instal- cient conductor of a magazine-certainly ments . One of his last letters
, addressed to sufficient proof that he never sank into idle
affords, as the Quarterly Review remarks, Mr. Poole, a fellow-contributor to the pages
In all his works, Hook paid little * Another story was at the same time told in regard to consecutiveness, or regularity, or connection with this unfortunate gentleman.
even to style. He aimed at delineation of Mr. R-, a wine-merchant, was very intimate character-at striking and ludicrous scenes with Fauntleroy, and with a few friends was in and situations--at reflecting the language the habit of dining with bim frequently. On these and habits of actual life-and all this he occasions, when the party was not too large, the host would produce some very choice old Lünelle accomplished, in some of his works, with a wine, of which R was exceedingly fond, but success that produced many rivals, but few Fauntleroy could never be prevailed upon to say superiors. Yet with all these successes, and where he got it, or how it could be obtained. although in receipt of a large income--proWhen the latter was under sentence of death, bis bably not less than £3,000 a year by his old associates visited him repeatedly, and at their last interview, the night before his execution, R
writings--passages in those parts of his diary after having bid him farewell with the rest, on a which have been published disclose frequent sudden paused in the prison passage, returned to struggles, ever-deepening distresses and difthe cell, and said in a low voice to the criminal - ficulties wlrich, while they are often inexpres“You'll pardon my pressing the subject, but now, at all events, my dear friend, you can have no ob sibly touching, ought not to be without their jection to tell me where I can get some of that
From Fraser's Magazine.
MACAULAY'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
“ I PURPOSE to write,” says Mr. Macaulay, | not so much of England, as of English par“the history of England from the accession ties, * which, though they be actuated by of James the Second, down to the time principles which are common to all mankind, which is within the memory of men still liv- and which at all times of man's history have ing"-a task often undertaken and performed been in active operation, still have received before, and even which Mr. Macaulay's la- among us peculiar modifications, and manibors will not prevent others in times to come fest themselves, in cor.sequence of our instifrom attempting. The epoch chosen is tutions, in a manner peculiar to ourselves. among the most important of the many To understand these peculiarities, and apcrises of our political fortunes. The results preciate their value properly, requires, on of the Revolution of 1688 are still felt by the part of the historian, knowledge and us; and the conflict of opinions which habits which can only be acquired by a party brought about that great change still goes man. Parliamentary struggles cannot be so on, though it be in å mitigated form, and well described and so thoroughly undersubject to les which that very Revolution stood as by one who himself has borne a made a part of the great charter of our lib- share in the contests of Parliament; and no erties. To one who can, in these, our times one so well as he who has had some insight of tierce political strife, forcibly and com into the practical working of our law, can pletely withdraw himself for a moment from solve the many legal problems which arise the whirl, and confusion, and passion, which in our constitutional history. But a mere is all around and about him ; who can, with party man will take a party view; will be a a calm philosophy, peruse and think upon partial witness, a biased judge; and a lawthe brilliant work now before us, it must yer, whose mind has been warped by habits prove a subject of curious and deeply inte-acquired and fixed by a life spent in the resting speculation. The author, the sub-courts, can hardly so extend his view, as to ject, the times in which we live, and the take in the range
of empire.” Mr. Macauprinciples which now govern our statesmen, lay's fortunes have, fortunately, given him when viewed in juxtaposition, inculcate of an opportunity of acquiring the knowledge themselves a lesson of wisdom which we necessary, without contracting the babits of should all do well to accept.
thought and feeling which so often render The author—and when we speak of him, that knowledge useless; and his very want we find ourselves unable to attain wholly to of success as a party politician has contributhat calm pbilosophy we have so strongly ted mainly to endow him so strikingly with recommended, feelings of personal regard the qualities of an impartial and sagacious making us partial judges in all that relates historian. From his earliest youth Mr. to him—the author brings to the task he Macaulay was destined to be a politician. has undertaken qualities, which, though ne He was educated in the Wbig camp, in the cessary for its due fulfillment, are yet so rare hope that one day he would prove a useful, as to be almost peculiar to himself. Gibbon gravely describes the advantages he had * We must guard ourselves and Mr. Macaulay derived from his service in the militia, say
from the mistaken
assertion. His history is, in our opinion, pre-emining, grandiloquently—" The discipline and
ently a history of parties; but it is also something erolutions of a modern battalion, gave me a And the author's multifarious reading has clearer notion of the phalanx and the legion; enabled him to draw an interesting comparison beand the captain of the Hampshire Grena tween the present material condition of England,
and that which existed in the times of James II. diers [the reader may smile] has not been
See chap. iii. See also Mr. Macaulay's description useless to the historian of the Roman Em
of what he conceives to be the duties of an historian, pire." Mr. Macaulay's work is the history, | vol. i. p. 3.
that is, an expert and unscrupulous, partisan. I their party to be derived from the splendor The hard-working men of party are with us and power of his eloquence, from his learnalmost always men of comparatively humble ing, his varied acquirements, his brilliant and fortunes, whose mental powers have raised dazzling style. Every fresh effort on his them to eminence. In the long array of part, whether as a poet or as an essayist, modern English statesmen, few can be found was hailed as a triumph; and the hour was who have not in youth been stimulated to impatiently expected when he might, in the exertion by the comparative narrowness of House of Commons, verify the predictions of their means, or by the desire to raise them- his ardent friends, and justify the eulogies of selves from an obscure position. Of these his many admirers. Some there were, youths, accident placed some in the Tory, however, who had studied carefully the some in the Whig ranks. The magnates of character of his mind, and who knew accueach party, with true worldly wisdom, have rately the nature of the assembly in which fostered and encouraged aspirants of this he was expected to render his party service, description; and hailed with satisfaction, and they even then whispered doubts as to and rewarded with applause, and, when able, the fulfillment of all those prophecies of sucwith place, the gradual manifestation of cess in which his sanguine friends had so capacity which party struggles have called boldly indulged. The brilliant essayist is forth. The Whig party, being in reality not always—in fact, is seldom-a ready and excluded from power for more than a quar- powerful debater. To be a great orator, an ter of a century, could not offer, as a means orator of the highest class, a man must, inof allurement to their ranks, the advantages deed, be a great writer; but it is not given of office; but these seductions were well to every great writer to be a great orator supplied by the social blandishments which, likewise. In addition to mental peculiariin their place, were lavishly employed. The ties, there were others, belonging to the great Whig houses were always open, the temper and nature of the man himself, which smiles of the leaders, men and women, were stood in the way of his success as a politialways ready, their warm and well-sustained cian. The fastidious and delicate tastes of applause was always given, when any young a scholar, unless attended by a passionate man gave promise of the power and the will ambition and an iron will, are so offended, to join their ranks and fight their battles. so shocked, by the coarseness, the littleness, The expectations with which young aspirants the baseness, the hideous immorality, the have been thus trained and fostered have surpassing selfishness, and the marvellous oftentimes been deceived; and many a repu- ignorance, which are inevitably encountered tation has by party applause been built up, by all who mingle in political contention, and for a few years maintained, but when that he feels himself debased by contact left at last to support itself by its own in- with things so degrading, and eagerly seeks trinsic strength, (as in all cases must inevita- for an excuse to withdraw from a scene so bly happen,) has broken down and disap- full of loathsome and contaminating influenpeared. Some, which would have well Some there are who see all this, and repaid all the care and interest shown toward seeing, abhor it, but who are willing to enthem, have been snatched away by death, counter all the abominations as evils incident leaving behind unavailing regrets, and the to humanity, which good men must face if visions of a hope now for ever disappointed.* they desire to see them controlled and di. In the days of our youth, among the various minished. But these are men of ardent, names bruited in society as of men from active courage, sanguine temper, and inflexi. whom political prophets expected much, ble perseverance. To this hardihood and none stood higher than the name of the courage may be, and sometimes is, united a gifted author of this History. Even in his taste as refined as that of the most sensitive boyish years, his future renown was confi- and retiring scholar. But a powerful will, a dently predicted, and the great leaders of strong passion, enables its possessor to face the Whigs already counted on the benefit to withoui shrinking those loathsome scenes
which overpower, because they disgust, the * Read, as an illustration of this remark, the let- pure-minded man, who is not thus proof political patronage, and give a pleasing picture The result justified the predictions of those of the kindness and care of the patrons; but Horner who had thus more narrowly scanned the was to be their great card, and was immeasurably superior to all the young-ay, and old Whigs of mental and moral character of the young his day. His loss was a serious blow to the party. Whig partisan. It is needless to mince the
matter, or to pick our phrases, when the great noise—hurt some of the enemy, pershortest and simplest is at hand, and com- haps, and frightened some; but the action pletely explains what we wish to express, was always decided before the gun could be Mr. Macaulay failed in the House of Com- reloaded. Still he was a great gun, and, mons.* By this we do not mean to say that from his urbanity and perfectly unaffected he was not listened to. He was listened to, manners, a favorite with all parties. Returnand with pleasure; but as far as the debate ing from India, where he had acted the part was concerned, the speech he delivered might of a law-maker as well as an administrative as well have been printed as an article in the functionary, he was again sent to Parliament, Edinburgh Review, reserved as a pleasure and on his friends coming into office he befor the arm-chair and the study, with the came a member of the cabinet. To a mind lamp on the table, the door hermetically like his, fraught with the knowlege of past closed, dressing-gown and slippers on, and times, the being thus admitted behind the paper-knife in hand. The essay, in this way scenes of the great political threatre must enjoyed, would be delightful; the speech was have been of infinite use and interest. He a beautiful thing out of place-a marble could compare the reality with the relation statue exposed to London weather—Sir of it—the daily record of events with that Robert Peel's mahogany wheelbarrow em truer history which his position enabled him ployed for real work. We suspect that no
to learn. Read with such an experience, body more completely understands this esti- the history of the past became something mation of his House of Commons' career more than an old almanac, and the intrigues than Mr. Macaulay himself. He knows that of days gone by might be judged by and men a thousand times his inferiors exercise compared with those which he must have an influence in the House that he never pos seen carried on around him. But the active sessed-an influence which his very excel- life of a cabinet minister was bardly com. lence prevents his ever hoping to acquire. patible with the careful study of history and The bustling and the vulgar politician pushes the composition of a laborious work. "Forby him in the crowd, and takes a foremost tunately for us, and we sincerely believe forplace simply because he is bustling and is tunately for himself, the bigots of Edinburgh vulgar. The Esquimaux feeds with delight quarrelled with their gifted representative, upon garbage, the very sight of which turns and chose some obscure person, of a spirit the stomach of a civilized man.
more congenial with their own, to speak But the experience acquired as a member their vulgar sentiments and protect their inof Parliament, though not leading to great terests in the House of Commons. Mr. parliamentary success, was eminently of ser- Macaulay lost his election, and then was seen vice to the historian of the parties which still the Whig appreciation of great ability that carry on their contest for power within the was not directly useful to themselves politiwalls of Parliament. “The eight sessions cally. Had Mr. Macaulay proved himself that I sat in Parliament,” says Gibbon, “were an active and powerful debater, his loss a school of civil prudence, the first and most would have been felt by the ministry, and essential virtue of an historian." Mr. Mac means would have been found to put a vaaulay has, however, far transcended the hum cant seat at his command. But the brilliant ble position with which the great historian essayist and converser, the poet and the hiswas satisfied. The experience of Gibbon was torian, might, indeed, confer lustre upon his gained simply as “a mute,” to use his own colleagues by his association with them; but phrase ; and his official position was merely he was of no particular assistance to them in that of an obsequious lord of trade. But the daily conflicts which they had to wage in Mr. Macaulay, though speaking rarely, spoke the Commons. Seat after seat, as they bealways with a certain effect; he was, in fact, came vacant, found members, but nonc one of the great guns of debate-one which seemed fit for the excluded cabinet minister. it took a long time to load, and still more to Young and mute sprigs of great Whig houses bring into position: when fired it made a slid into seats that would joyfully have se
lected Mr. Macaulay, had not means been * What is failure for a man who aspires to the taken to make the constituencies' pass him highest position, and who is endowed with abilities by. The studied slight became an insult, of the highest order, would in an inferior person be which, though not complained of, must have considered success. But mediocrity is an advantage been felt. A high-minded man could not not permitted to men of Mr. Macaulay's stamn: brook the indignity, and Mr. Macaulay availThere is no medium. If they do not attain complete success, they fail.
ed himself of the plea which his forced ex