his repartees, that had a play of words as well as
of thought; as, when speaking of the difference
between laying out money upon land, or purchasing
into the funds, he said One was principal without
interest, and the other interest without principal.'
Certain it is he had a brevity of expression, that
never hung upon the ear, and you felt the point in
the very moment that he made the push.'
pp. 247-249.


Of Goldsmith he says,

"That he was fantastically and whimsically vain, all the world knows; but there was no malice in his heart. He was tenacious to a ridiculous extreme of certain pretensions that did not, and by nature could not, belong to him, and at the same time he was inexcusably careless of the fame which he had powers to command. What foibles he had he took no pains to conceal; and the good qualities of his heart were too frequently obscured by the carelessness of his conduct, and the frivolity of his mauners. Sir Joshua Reynolds was very good to him, and would have drilled him into better trimi and order for society, if he would have been amenable; for Reynolds was a perfect gentleman, had good sense, great propriety, with all the social attributes, and all the graces of hospitality, equal to

any man.

Distress drove Goldsmith upon undertakings neither congenial with his studies nor worthy of his talents. I remember him, when in his chambers in the Temple, he showed me the beginning of his Animated Nature; it was with a sigh, such as genius draws, when hard necessity diverts it from its bent to drudge for bread, and talk of birds and beasts and creeping things, which Pidcock's showman would have done as well. Poor fellow, he hardly knew an ass from a mule, nor a turkey from a goose, but when he saw it on the table.' pp. 257-259. "I have heard Dr. Johnson relate with infinite humour the circumstance of his rescuing Goldsmith from a ridiculous dilemma, by the purchase-money of his Vicar of Wakefield, which he sold on his behalf to Dodsley, and, as I think, for the sum of ten pounds only. He had run up a debt with his landlady, for board and lodging, of some few pounds, and was at his wits end how to wipe off the score, and keep a roof over his head, except by closing with a very staggering proposal on her part, and taking his creditor to wife, whose charms were very far from alluring, whilst her demands were extremely urgent. In this crisis of his fate he was

found by Johnson, in the act of meditating on the
melancholy alternative before him. He showed
Johnson his manuscript of the Vicar of Wakefield,
but seemed to be without any plan, or even hope,
of raising money upon the disposal of it; when
Jolinson cast his eye upon it, he discovered some-
thing that gave him hope, and immediately took it
to Dodsley, who paid down the price above-men-
tioned in ready money, and added an eventual con-
dition upon its future sale. Johnson described the
precautions he took in concealing the amount of the
sum he had in hand, which he prudently adminis
In the event
tered to him by a guinea at a time.
he paid off the landlady's score, and redeemed the
person of his friend from her embraces."'-p. 273.

THESE Volumes are so very entertaining that we ran them all through immediately upon their coming into our possession; and at the same time contain so little that is either difficult or profound, that we may venture to give some account of them to our readers without farther deliberation.

We will pronounce no general judgment on the literary merits of Mr. Cumberland; but our opinion of them certainly has not been raised by the perusal of these memoirs. There is no depth of thought, nor dignity of sentiment about him;-he is too frisky for an old man, and too gossipping for an historian. His style is too negligent even for the most familiar composition; and though he has proved himself, upon other occasions, to be a great master of good English, he has admitted a number of phrases into this work, which, we are inclined to think, would scarcely pass current even in conversation. "I declare to truth"-" with the greatest pleasure in life" "she would lead off in her best manner," &c. are expressions which we should not expect to hear in the society to which Mr. Cumberland belongs;-"laid," for lay, is still more insufferable from the antagonist of Lowth and the descendant of Bentley ;-"querulential" strikes our ear as exotic;" locate, location, and locality," for situation simply, seem also to be bad; and "intuition" for observation sounds very pedantic, to say the least of it. Upon the whole, however, this volume is not the work of an ordinary writer; and we should probably have been more indulgent to its faults, if the excellence of some of the author's former productions had not sent us to its perusal with expectations perhaps somewhat extravagant.

(July, 1803.)

The Works of the Right Honourable Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Including her Correspondence, Poems, and Essays. Published by permission, from her Original Papers. 5 vols.

8vo. London: 1803.

the facts are narrated. As the letters themselves, however, are arranged in a chronological order, and commonly contain very distinct notices of the writer's situation at their dates, we shall be enabled, by our extracts from them, to give a pretty clear idea of her Ladyship's life and adventures, with very little assistance from the meagre narrative of Mr. Dallaway.

The only thing that disappointed us was the memoir of the writer's life, prefixed by the editor to her correspondence. În point of composition it is very tame and inelegant; and rather excites than gratifies the curiosity of

Lady Mary Pierrepoint, eldest daughter of the Duke of Kingston, was born in 1690; and gave, in her early youth, such indications of a

the reader, by the imperfect manner in which I studious disposition, that she was initiated into

the rudiments of the learned languages along | acter in a different light, and was at any rate with her brother. Her first years appear to biassed by her inclinations, appears to have have been spent in retirement; and yet the addressed a great number of letters to him very first series of letters with which we are upon this occasion; and to have been at conpresented, indicates a great deal of that talent siderable pains to relieve him of his scruples, for ridicule, and power of observation, by and restore his confidence in the substantial which she afterwards became so famous, and excellences of her character. These letters, so formidable. These letters (about a dozen which are written with a great deal of female in number) are addressed to Mrs. Wortley, the spirit and masculine sense, impress us with a mother of her future husband; and, along with very favourable notion of the talents and disa good deal of girlish flattery and affectation, positions of the writer; and as they exhibit display such a degree of easy humour and her in a point of view altogether different from sound penetration, as is not often to be met any in which she has hitherto been presented with in a damsel of nineteen, even in this age to the public, we shall venture upon a pretty of precocity. The following letter, in 1709, long extract. is written upon the misbehaviour of one of her female favourites.


'My knighterrantry is at an end; and I believe I shall henceforward think freeing of galley-slaves and knocking down windmills, more laudable undertakings than the defence of any woman's repu-I tation whatever. To say truth, have never had any great esteem for the generality of the fair sex; and my only consolation for being of that gender, has been the assurance it gave me of never being married to any one among them! But I own, at present, I am so much out of humour with the actions of Lady H **, that I never was so heartily ashamed of my petticoats before. My only refuge is, the sincere hope that she is out of her senses; and taking herself for the Queen of Sheba, and Mr. Mildmay for King Solomon, I do not think it quite so ridiculous: But the men, you may well imagine, are not so charitable; and they agree in the kind reflection, that nothing hinders women from playing the fool, but not having it in their power."

"I will state the case to you as plainly as I can, and then ask yourself if you use me well. I have showed, in every action of my life, an esteem for you, that at least challenges a grateful regard. I have even trusted my reputation in your hands; for have made no scruple of giving you, under my own hand, an assurance of my friendship. After all this, I exact nothing from you: If you find it inconvenient for your affairs to take so small a fortune, I desire you to sacrifice nothing to me: I pretend no tie upon your honour; but, in recompense for so clear and so disinterested a proceeding, must I ever receive injuries and ill usage?

"Perhaps I have been indiscreet: I came young into the hurry of the world; a great innocence, and an undesigning gaiety, may possibly have been construed coquetry, and a desire of being followed, though never meant by me. I cannot answer for the observations that may be made on me. All who are malicious attack the careless and defenceless: I own myself to be both. I know not any thing I can say more to show my perfect desire of pleasing you, and making you easy, than to proffer to be confined with you in what manner you please. Would any woman but me renounce all the world for one? or would any man but you be insensible of such a proof of sincerity ?"-Vol. i. pp. 208-210.



Vol. i. pp. 180, 181. In the course of this correspondence with the mother, Lady Mary appears to have conceived a very favourable opinion of the son; and the next series of letters contains her antenuptial correspondence with that gentleman, t' other so bad, as you fancy it. Should we ever live One part of my character is not so good, nor from 1710 to 1712. Though this correspond-together, you would be disappointed both ways; ence has interested and entertained us as you would find an easy equality of temper you do much at least as any thing in the book, we are not expect, and a thousand faults you do not imaafraid that it will afford but little gratification gine. You think, if you married me, I should be to the common admirers of love letters. Her passionately fond of you one month, and of someLadyship, though endowed with a very lively esteem, I can be a friend; but I don't know whebody else the next. Neither would Den. I can imagination, seems not to have been very sus- ther I can love. Expect all that is complaisant and ceptible of violent or tender emotions, and to easy, but never what is fond, in me. have imbibed a very decided contempt for sentimental and romantic nonsense, at an age which is commonly more indulgent. There are no raptures nor ecstasies, therefore, in these letters; no flights of fondness, nor vows of constancy, nor upbraidings of capricious affection. To say the truth, her Ladyship acts a part in the correspondence that is not often allotted to a female performer. Mr. Wortley, though captivated by her beauty and her vivacity, seems evidently to have been a little alarmed at her love of distinction, her propen-ness. sity to satire, and the apparent inconstancy of her attachments. Such a woman, he was afraid, and not very unreasonably, would make rather an uneasy and extravagant companion to a man of plain understanding and moderate fortune; and he had sense enough to foresee, and generosity enough to explain to her, the risk to which their mutual happiness might be exposed by a rash and indissoluble union. Lady Mary, who probably saw her own char

If you can resolve to live with a companion that will have all the deference due to your superiority of good sense, and that your proposals can be agreeable to those on whom I depend, I have nothing to say against them.

"As to travelling, 'tis what I should do with great pleasure, and could easily quit London upon your account; but a retirement in the country is not so disagreeable to me, as I know a few months would for life, 'tis their mutual interest not to grow weary make it tiresome to you. Where people are tied of one another. If I had the personal charms that I want, a face is too slight a foundation for happiYou would be soon tired with seeing every day the same thing. Where you saw nothing else, you would have leisure to remark all the defects; lessened, which is always a great charm. I should which would increase in proportion as the novelty have the displeasure of seeing a coldness, which, though I could not reasonably blame you for, being involuntary, yet it would render me uneasy; and the more, because I know a love may be revived, which absence, inconstancy, or even infidelity, has extinguished: But there is no returning from a dégoût given by satiety."-Vol. i. pp. 212-214.


I begin to be tired of my humility; I have car

ried my complaisances to you farther than I ought. You make new scruples: you have a great deal of fancy! and your distrusts, being all of your own making, are more immovable than if there were some real ground for them. Our aunts and grandmothers always tell us, that men are a sort of animals, that if ever they are constant, 'tis only where they are ill-used. 'Twas a kind of paradox I could never believe; but experience has taught me the truth of it. You are the first I ever had a correspondence with; and I thank God, I have done with it for all my life. You needed not to have told me you are not what you have been; one must be stupid not to find a difference in your letters. You seem, in one part of your last, to excuse yourself from having done me any injury in point of fortune. Do I accuse you of any? "I have not spirits to dispute any longer withness, of the narrative and the description which you. You say you are not yet determined. Let me determine for you, and save you the trouble of

The second volume, and a part of the third, are occupied with those charming letters, written during Mr. Wortley's embassy to Constantinople, upon which the literary reputation of Lady Mary has hitherto been exclusively founded. It would not become us to say any thing of productions which have so long engaged the admiration of the public. The grace and vivacity, the ease and concise

writing again. Adieu for ever; make no answer. I wish, among the variety of acquaintance, you may find some one to please you: and can't help the vanity of thinking, should you try them all, you wont find one that will be so sincere in their treatment, though a thousand more deserving, and every one happier."-Vol. i. pp. 219-221.

they contain, still remain unrivalled, we think, by any epistolary compositions in our language; and are but slightly shaded by a sprinkling of obsolete tittle-tattle, or womanish vanity and affectation. The authenticity of these letters, though at one time disputed, has not lately been called in question; but the secret history of their first publication has never, we believe, been laid before the public. The editor of this collection, from the original papers, gives the following account of it.

These are certainly very uncommon productions for a young lady of twenty; and indicate a strength and elevation of character, that does not always appear in her gayer and more ostentatious performances. Mr. Wortley was convinced and re-assured by them; and they were married in 1712. The concluding part of the first volume contains her letters to him for the two following years. There is not much tenderness in these letters; nor very much interest indeed of any kind. Mr. Wortley appears to have been rather indolent and unambitious; and Lady Mary takes it upon her, with all delicacy and judicious management however, to stir him up to some degree of activity and exertion. There is a good deal of election-news and small politics in these epistles. The best of them, we think, is the following exhortation to impudence.

an opinion of your merit, which, if it is a mistake, I would not be undeceived. It is my interest to believe (as I do) that you deserve every thing, and are capable of every thing; but nobody else will believe it, if they see you get nothing."--Vol. i. pp. 250-252.


"I am glad you think of serving your friends. hope it will put you in mind of serving yourself. I need not enlarge upon the advantages of money; every thing we see, and every thing we hear, puts us in remembrance of it. If it were possible to restore liberty to your country, or limit the encroachments of the prerogative, by reducing yourself to a garret, I should be pleased to share so glorious a poverty with you: But as the world is, and will be, 'tis a sort of duty to be rich, that it may be in one's power to do good; riches being another word for power; towards the obtaining of which, the first necessary qualification is Impudence, and (as Demosthenes said of pronunciation in oratory) the second is impudence, and the third, still, impudence! No modest man ever did, or ever will make his fortune. Your friend Lord Halifax, R. Walpole, and all other remarkable instances of quick advancement, have been remarkably impudent. The ministry, in short, is like a play at court: There's a little door to get in, and a great crowd without, shoving and thrusting who shall be foremost; people who knock others with their elbows, disregard a little kick of the shins, and still thrust heartily forwards, are sure of a good place. Your modest man stands behind in the crowd, is shoved about by every body, his clothes torn, almost squeezed to death, and sees a thousand get in before him, that don't make so good a figure as himself. "If this letter is impertinent, it is founded upon


"In the later periods of Lady Mary's life, she employed her leisure in collecting copies of the letters she had written during Mr. Wortley's embassy, and had transcribed them herself, in two small volumes in quarto. They were, without doubt, return to England for the last time, in 1761, she sometimes shown to her literary friends. Upon her gave these books to a Mr. Snowden, a clergyman of Rotterdam, and wrote the subjoined memorandum on the cover of them: These two volumes are given to the Reverend Benjamin Snowden, minister at Rotterdam, to be disposed of as he thinks proper. This is the will and design of M. Wortley Montagu, December 11, 1761.'

"After her death, the late Earl of Bute commissioned a gentleman to procure them, and to offer Mr. Snowden a considerable remuneration, which he accepted. Much to the surprise of that nobleman and Lady Bute, the manuscripts were scarcely safe in England, when three volumes of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's Letters were published by Beckett; and it has since appeared, that a Mr. Clehad negotiated before, was again despatched to land was the editor. The same gentleman, who Holland; and could gain no further intelligence from Mr. Snowden, than that a short time before called on him to see the Letters, and obtained their he parted with the MSS. two English gentlemen request. They had previously contrived that Mr. Snowden should be called away during their perusal; and he found on his return that they had disappeared with the books. Their residence was unknown to him; but on the next day they brought back the precious deposit, with many apologies. It may be fairly presumed, that the intervening night was consumed in copying these letters by several amanuenses."—Vol. i. pp. 29–32.

A fourth volume of Lady Mary's Letters, published in the same form in 1767, appears now to have been a fabrication of Cleland's; as no corresponding MSS. have been found among her Ladyship's papers, or in the hands of her correspondents.

To the accuracy of her local descriptions, and the justness of her representations of orimanners, Mr. Dallaway, who followed her footsteps the distance of eighty years, and resided for several months in the very


3 K 2

importance of the alterations which had been ef-
fected, immediately adopted the whole plan as a part
of the system of Newgate; empowered the ladies
to punish the refractory by short confinement, un-
dertook part of the expense of the matron, and
loaded the ladies with thanks and benedictions."
pp. 130, 131.

We can add nothing to this touching and elevating statement. The story of a glorious victory gives us a less powerful or proud emotion-and thanks and benedictions appear to us never to have been so richly deserved.

"A year, says Mr. Buxton, has now elapsed since the operations in Newgate began; and those most competent to judge, the late Lord Mayor and the present, the late Sheriffs and the present, the late Governor and the present, various Grand Juries, the Chairman of the Police Committee, the Ordinary, and the officers of the prison, have all declared their satisfaction, mixed with astonishment, at the alteration which has taken place in the conduct of the females.

"It is true, and the Ladies' Committee are anx ious that it should not be concealed, that some of the rules have been occasionally broken. Spirits, they fear, have more than once been introduced; and it was discovered at one period, when many of the ladies were absent, that card-playing had been resumed. But, though truth compels them to acknowledge these deviations, they have been of a very limited extent. I could find but one lady who heard an oath, and there had not been above half a dozen instances of intoxication; and the ladies feel justified in stating, that the rules have generally been observed. The ladies themselves have been treated with uniform respect and gratitude." pp. 132, 133. At the close of a Session, many of the formed prisoners were dismissed, and many new ones were received-and, under their auspices, card-playing was again introduced. One of the ladies, however, went among them alone, and earnestly and affectionately explained to them the pernicious consequences of this practice; and represented to them how much she would be gratified, if, even from regard to her, they would agree to nounce it,

a Bible in her life, which was received with so much interest and satisfaction, or one, which she thinks more likely to do good. It is remarkable, that this girl, from her conduct in her preceding prison, and in court, came to Newgate with the worst of characters."-p. 134.

"Soon after she retired to the ladies' room, one of the prisoners came to her, and expressed, in a manner which indicated real feeling, her sorrow for having broken the rules of so kind a friend, and gave her a pack of cards: four others did the same. Having burnt the cards in their presence, she felt bound to remunerate them for their value, and to mark her sense of their ready obedience by some small present. A few days afterwards, she called the first to her, and telling her intention, produced a neat muslin handkerchief. To her surprise, the girl looked disappointed; and, on being asked the reason, confessed she had hoped that Mrs. would have given her a Bible with her own name written in it! which she should value beyond any

thing else, and always keep and read. Such a request, made in such a manner, could not be refused; and the lady assures me that she never gave

The change, indeed, pervaded every department of the female division. Those who were marched off for transportation, instead of breaking the windows and furniture, and going off, according to immemorial usage, with drunken songs and intolerable disorder, took a serious and tender leave of their companions, and expressed the utmost gratitude to their benefactors, from whom they parted with tears. Stealing has also been entirely suppressed; and, while upwards of twenty thousand articles of dress have been manufactured, not one has been lost or purloined within the precincts of the prison!

We have nothing more to say; and would not willingly weaken the effect of this impressive statement by any observations of ours. Let us hear no more of the difficulty of. regulating provincial prisons, when the prostitute felons of London have been thus easily reformed and converted. Let us never again be told of the impossibility of repressing drunkenness and profligacy, or introducing habits of industry in small establishments, when this great crater of vice and corruption has been thus stilled and purified. And, above all, let there be an end of the pitiful apology of the want of funds, or means, or agents, to re-effect those easier improvements, when women from the middle ranks of life - when quiet unassuming matrons, unaccustomed to business, or to any but domestic exertions, have, without funds, without agents, without aid or encouragement of any description, trusted themselves within the very centre of infection and despair; and, by opening their hearts only, and not their purses, have effectre-ed, by the mere force of kindness, gentleness, and compassion, a labour, the like to which has smoothed the way and insured success does not remain to be performed, and which to all similar labours. We cannot. Envy the happiness which Mrs. Fry must enjoy from the consciousness of her own great achievements;-but there is no happiness or honour of which we should be so proud to be par takers: And we seem to relieve our own hearts of their share of national gratitude, in thus placing on her simple and modest brow, that truly Civic Crown, which far outshines the laurels of conquest, or the coronals of power-and can only be outshone itself, by those wreaths of imperishable glory which await the champions of Faith and Charity in a higher state of existence.

(April, 1806.)

Memoirs of Richard Cumberland: written by himself. Containing an Account of his Life and Writings, interspersed with Anecdotes and Characters of the most distinguished Persons of his Time with whom he had Intercourse or Connection. 4to. pp. 533. London: 1806.*

WE certainly have no wish for the death however, to let authors tell their own story, of Mr. Cumberland; on the contrary, we hope as an apology for telling that of all their ache will live long enough to make a large sup-quaintances; and can easily forgive them for plement to these memoirs: But he has em- grouping and assorting their anecdotes of their barrassed us a little by publishing this volume contemporaries, according to the chronology, in his lifetime. We are extremely unwilling and incidents of their own lives. This is but to say any thing that may hurt the feelings indulging the painter of a great gallery of

of a man of distinguished talents, who is draw-worthies with a panel for his own portrait; and though it will probably be the least like of the whole collection, it would be hard to grudge him this little gratification.

ing to the end of his career, and imagines that he has hitherto been ill used by the world: but he has shown, in this publication, such an appetite for praise, and such a jealousy of censure, that we are afraid we cannot do our duty conscientiously, without giving him of fence. The truth is, that the book has rather disappointed us. We expected it to be extremely amusing; and it is not. There is too much of the first part of the title in it, and too little of the last. Of the life and writings of Richard Cumberland, we hear more than enough; but of the distinguished persons with whom he lived, we have many fewer characters and anecdotes than we could have wished. We the more inclined to regret this, both because the general style of Mr. Cumberland's compositions has convinced us, that no one could have exhibited characters and anecdotes in a more engaging manner, and because, from what he has put into this book, we actually see that he had excellent opportunities for collecting, and still better talents for relating them. The anecdotes and characters which we have, are given in a very pleas-sociates; and natural to complain, if he tells ing and animated manner, and form the chief long stories of his schoolmasters and grandmerit of the publication: But they do not oc- mothers, while he passes over some of the cupy one tenth part of it; and the rest is filled most illustrious of his companions with a bare with details that do not often interest, and ob- mention of their names. servations that do not always amuse.

Life has often been compared to a journey; and the simile seems to hold better in nothing than in the identity of the rules by which those who write their travels, and those who write their lives, should be governed. When a man returns from visiting any celebrated region, we expect to hear much more of the remarkable things and persons he has seen, than of his own personal transactions; and are naturally disappointed if, after saying that he lived much with illustrious statesmen or heroes, he chooses rather to tell us of his own travelling equipage, or of his cookery and servants, than to give us any account of the character and conversation of those distinguished persons. In the same manner, when at the close of a long life, spent in circles of literary and political celebrity, an author sits down to give the world an account of his retrospections, it is reasonable to stipulate that he should talk less of himself than of his as

Authors, we think, should not, generally, be encouraged to write their own lives. The genius of Rousseau, his enthusiasm, and the novelty of his plan, have rendered‍ the Confessions, in some respects, the most interesting of books. But a writer, who is in full possession of his senses, who has lived in the world like the men and women who compose it, and whose vanity aims only at the praise of great talents and accomplishments, must not hope to write a book like the Confessions: and is scarcely to be trusted with the delineation of his own character or the narrative of his own adventures. We have no objection,

I reprint part of this paper-for the sake chiefly of the anecdotes of Bentley, Bubb Dodington, Soame Jenyns, and a few others, which I think remarkable and very much, also, for the lively and graphic account of the impression of Garrick's new style of acting, as compared with that of Quin and the old schools-which is as good and as curious as Colley Cibber's admirable sketches of Betterton and Booth.

Mr. Cumberland has offended a little in this way. He has also composed these memoirs, we think, in too diffuse, rambling, and careless a style. There is evidently no selection or method in his narrative and unweighed remarks, and fatiguing apologies and protestations, are tediously interwoven with it, in the genuine style of good-natured but irrepressible loquacity. The whole composition, indeed, has not only too much the air of conversation: It has sometimes an unfortunate resemblance to the conversation of a professed talker; and we meet with many passages in which the author appears to work himself up to an artificial vivacity, and to give a certain air of smartness to his expression, by the introduction of cant phrases, odd metaphors, and a sort of practised and theatrical originality. The work, however, is well worth looking over, and contains many more amusing passages than we can afford to extract on the

present occasion.

Mr. Cumberland was born in 1732; and he has a very natural pride in relating that his

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