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În 1826 appeared the “Plain Speaker,' of which I have made mention, and another edition of the “Table Talk. I may state here, that both at this time, and for some years previous, my father was a frequent contributor to the · Edinburgh Review, the
· New Monthly,' Monthly,' and · London,’ Magazines, and other periodicals, from which sources he derived a considerable portion of his income. His average receipts were somewhere about 6001. a-year, but his want of method, rather than any actual extravagance, prevented him from ever being better off at the end of the year than he was at the beginning of it. In 1829 was published his ‘Selections from the British Poets,' which has since gone through several editions; and in 1830 appeared his great work, the Life of Napoleon,' in four volumes. Upon this he had been long and arduously engaged, but the labour to him was light, for it was a labour of love. The Emperor was my father's great idol among men, the grand disturber of the doctrine of
Right divine of Kings,” and in this work he strove to raise a noble monument to his glory. The Life of Titian,' also published this year, bears the name of Mr Northcote on its title-page, but, in point of fact, all Mr Northcote's share in the work was a mass of extremely uncon
nected manuscript, of which it was almost impossible to find the beginning, middle, or end. When reduced into something like order, this portion of the material, with the addition of a great many notes, &c., by my father, extended but to a volume and a quarter of the work. The remainder consists of a translation of Ticozzi's celebrated life of the great Painter, by my father and myself. The very delightful book, • Northcote's Conversations,' was also brought out this year, and was the last work which my father ever published. His mind had been considerably harassed in the summer of this
year by pecuniary circumstances arising out of a bill which he had taken in place of money, and which had been dishonoured by the party indebted to him. This had involved him in considerable personal annoyance.
In August he was seized with a violent attack of a disorder -a species of cholera-which had often before assailed him, and which his debilitated frame was little capable of resisting. During his illness he was attended with the greatest assiduity by Dr Darling, to whom, as a physician celebrated for his treatment of this class of disorder, Mr Basil Montagu had mentioned my father's illness, and who at once proffered his friendly advice and assistance.
my father's other friends backward upon this mournful occasion. All his wants were carefully studied, and at the time of his death he was amply provided with every thing which could be required. My father died on the 18th of September, 1830.
His death was easy and resigned, and he had the gratification of seeing around him Charles Lamb and others of his oldest and most beloved friends.
He was buried a week after in the church-yard of St Anne's, Soho, and the following epitaph was inscribed on a tomb-stone raised over his grave by an old and warmly attached friend.
He lived to see his deepest wishes gratified,
That some friendly hand should consign him to the grave, was accomplished to a
limited, but profound extent; on these conditions he was ready to depart, and to have inscribed on his tomb,
“ Grateful and Contented."
The first (unanswered) Metaphysician of the age.
A despiser of the merely Rich and Great :
A man of true moral courage,
That could not answer him before men, And who may confront him before their Maker.
He lived and died
with him, in his grave.
: I cannot better conclude this paper than by extracting the following beautiful passage from a discourse preached upon the occasion of my father's death by Mr Johns, the amiable and talented Minister of the Unitarian chapel, Crediton.
“I should not, my brethren, have brought these recollections before you, had it not again become
my unwelcome duty to say a few words over another leaf, that has fallen from the human life-tree, and rested upon the grave. A distinguished individual, a stranger but not an alien, will henceforth exist only as a distinguished name. One who has always been an object of attachment to the few,--and who by a strange involution of hostilities has been battling with the many, while he was contending for mankind,-has been laid at length in the peaceful resting-place, where they shall not learn war any more.' Brief and sincere may the requiem be, which a stranger breathes over a stranger's grave :-He is gone to his rest, and let it not be broken.-In an age, when the general diffusion of knowledge has made it no easy matter for one man to rise greatly above the educated thousands around him, he has been one of those who have achieved the difficult undertaking, and whose thoughts have