bank, ran before his hunters like an antelope, and arrived safely at the European forts. He got in breathless, and lived; an English surgeon cured him... 1 Hitherto he had saved little money. He now entered the Nabob of Arcot's service, and became Prime Minister. The sixteen pages of " the Relative's" letter-press do not say how. They treat only of effects causes are out of their sphere. At length he took leave of India, and travelled over Persia and Turkey on foot (in search of a name it should seem, or, as he was wont to say, "in search of the Polarity of Moral Truth;") and after many adventures (why are not one or two of them related?) arrived in England. He brought home some money, and some "doctrines," as his biographer calls them but what these "doctrines' were, we are left to surmise. He commenced his London life in an Armenian dress, "to attract attention;" but finding the people not very hungry after his philosophy, he resolved on enlightening the Americans, who refused his mental gas as perversely. The Relative here drops the narrative, and tries his hand at the philo sophical-but we do not get a very clear notion of his meaning. Stewart, on his return from America, "made the tour of Scotland, Germany, Italy and France, on foot, and ultimately settled in Paris," where he made friends. He intended to live there; but, after invest ing his money in French property, he smelt the sulphur cloud of the Revolu tion, and retreated as fast as possible, losing considerable property in his flight. He returned to London,--and suddenly and unexpectedly received 10,000% from the India Company on the liquidation of the debts of the Nabob of Arcot. He bought annuities, and fattened his yearly income. The Relative, in speaking of these annuities, says, oddly enough, One of his annuities was purchased from the County Fire Office, at a rate, which, in the end, was proved to have been paid three, and nearly four times over. calculation of the life gentry was here completely at fault: every quarter brought Mr. Stewart regularly at the cashier's, whom he accosted with, "Well, man alive! I am come for my money." This Mr. Stewart now gave entertainments-had musical parties conversaziones-dinners. The writer is a little more distinct here. This sudden and large increase of wealth enabled Mr. Stewart to commence a series of entertainments, calculated to afford the highest treat to those friends and acquaintances by whom he was surrounded. Every evening a conversazione was held at his house, enlivened by music; and on Sundays, he gave dinners to a select few, who were likewise gratified, in addition, by a discourse from the philosopher; and in the evening, a concert of vocal music was added for the guests' pleasure. This generally consisted of sacred music selected from Handel's compositions, to which the philosopher was highly partial. He often turned to the person seated nearest him, and would descant on the wonderful merit of this great master, whose music combined melody with harmony, making the latter subservient, a rule in the present day totally neglected by professors, who sacrifice all for science, betraying little or no melody in their subjects. These concerts always concluded with the dead march in Saul, another favourite of the philosopher, who gave it the most serious attention. Stewart was attached to the King and lived peaceably, until the late Queen's arrival,-when the deputations of Operative Sawyers, and other mechanical movements, alarmed Stewart, and awakened his walking propensities again. His friends had great difficulty to prevent him from going to America. He smoked another revolution. He wrote a letter in the Sun, and became easier. "The Relative" says that "the declination of Mr. Stewart's health was apparent to his friends in 1821," He that is, he began to get ill. went to Margate-returned became worse-and, on the Ash Wednesday of that year, gave up the ghost. Perhaps he is Walking Stewart still! Stewart was, in youth, remarkably strong and handsome ;-indeed his name bespeaks the first, and his face vouched, even in its age, for the latter. To all entreaties from friends that he would write his travels, he replied, no-that his were the travels of the mind. He, however, wrote essays, and gave lectures on the phi losophy of the mind. It is very odd that men will not tell what they know, and will attempt to talk of what they do not know. He never married. "The Relative" ends his book with the following odd passage. He reasons in so original a style, that we sincerely hope the Edinburgh Reviewers will not strangle his sixteen little pages. Thus, gentle reader, I have, I trust, imparted every known occurrence connected with the life of so singular a man; and as I can assert with a safe conscience, no one possessed Mr. Stewart's confidence but myself, any future publication of his life, in whatever shape it may appear, I pronounce a forgery upon the public. As most probably whatever profit may accrue from the sale of this pamphlet will be devoted to some charitable purpose, and as my bookseller (vide the title page), who sells all English and foreign books remarkably cheap, which is owing to his import ing the French and Italian books from Paris direct, has generously volunteered to bring this work out free of remuneration, I am in hope it will not be construed into presumption to solicit the clemency of those merciless rogues the Edinburgh Re viewers, who with that acrimony so pecu liar to critics who have the false idea that their profession necessarily compels them, butcher-like, to cut up: however, they do at times some good to us poor authors, as my readers are aware the comparison well suits, viz. that sheep when cut up sell quicker than when left to themselves; but I think that my brother author (for all authors are brethren) Byron has pretty well dusted their jackets, and however they may receive this "gift horse," I certainly (whether they attack me or no) shall not cal lesson of the Polarity of the Glufatigue myself by giving to them any practifutation of their incongruous remarks on teis;" reserving for a future day my re"Brande's Inflammable Gases," vide Edin. Rev. vol. 34. "The Relative," considering his professed means, is no very eminent biographer. He is evidently attached to the House of Stewart, and is an amiable, eccentric man; but he overrates what he knows, or keeps his knowledge sadly to himself. We should advise him, if he really remembers much of his relation, to put the materials into the hands of a clever man, and suffer the Life and Adventures of Walking Stewart to be written by some one who will do him justice. The Early French Poets. MAURICE SCEVE AND GUILLAUME DES AUTELS. PASQUIER, in his Researches on France (Recherches de la France, 1. 6. ch. 7.) speaks of Maurice Sceve as the leader of that poetic troop, in the reign of Henry the Second, who, deserting the vulgar and beaten track, struck out into a more retired and lofty path." In his younger days," says Pasquier, "he had trod in the steps of the rest; but, when advanced in life, chose to enter on another course, proposing to himself for his object, in imitation of the Italians, a mistress whom he celebrated under the name of Delia, not in sonnets (for that form of composition had not yet been introduced), but in continued stanzas of ten (dixains), yet with such darkness of meaning, that in reading him I owned myself satisfied not to understand him, since he was not willing to be understood. Du Bellay, acknowledging his priority in his own style of writing, has addressed to him a sonnet, in which he says, Gentil esprit, ornement de la France, Qui, d'Apollon sainctement inspiré, O gentle spirit, Ornament of France, Who, by Apollo sacredly inspired, Hast from the people, first of all, retired, Far from the path mark'd out by ignorance. And in the fiftieth sonnet of his Olive, the same poet calls him new swan;' implying, that by a new mcthod he had banished ignorance from our poetry. The consequence has been, that his book has perished with him." Thus far Pasquier. It can scarcely be hoped, that a modern reader should pierce through Love lost the weapons that he aim'd at me, And sigh'd and wept till she put out her brand; Cease, goddess, cease thy mourning; and repair A l'embrunir des heures tenebreuses, Songe à moy vient, qui mon esprit desserre, Et tout aupres de celle là le serre, Qu'il reveroit pour son royal maintien. Mais par son doulx, et prive' entretien L'attrait tant sien, que puis sans craincte aulcune Il m'est advis, certes, que je la tien, '\- ??? Mais ainsi, comme Endimion la Lune.-(exxxv. p. 60.) When darksome hours the welkin have embrown'd, In another of these dixains, he refers to the death of Sir Thomas More, whose fate had then recently filled Europe with consternation. Soft sleep with silent waters had bedew'd 1 The torch of son and mother both subdued, h But morn stept forth; and with that morn the day Quand quelquesfoys d'elle a elle me plaings, Mais comme on voit le soleil apparoistre S'esgaye lors ses plumes arousant; Ainsi Amour aux larmes des ses yeulx Ses ailes baigne, a gré se reposant. (ccclii. p. 156,) But, as when sometimes we do see the sun Thus in the tears that drop from either eye La lune au plein par sa clarté puissante De celle ainsi, qui sur mon cœur preside, Me conduisant en son joyeux serain. (ccclxxv. p. 166.) The moon at full, by clearness of her light, Breaks through the thickness of the troublous shade, This poem, entitled Delie, Object de plus haulte Vertu, and printed at Lyons, chez Sulpice Sabon, pour Antoine Constantin, 1544, 8vo. consists of 458 dixains, reckoning by the number at the end; but of these, nine (between 90 and 100,) are omitted. Every second leaf is ornamented with some curious em blem; and the portrait of the author is prefixed. I am the more particular in describing this book, because I am doubtful whether it has ever been reprinted, and because, amidst much obscurity, there are really some fine things in it, somewhat in the way of our own Donne. Besides those which I have attempted to translate, I would direct the attention of my reader, if it should chance to come in his way, to dixains ciii. cxxv. cccxxxvii. cecev. and cecexxiii. In the two hundred and sixty second, and that following it, he celebrates Francis the First; and in the next two, Margaret, probably the daughter of that king, and Duchess of Savoy. After the quaint fashion of the times, his Delia is often accosted as the Moon. She appears to have been a married woman: GUILLAUME DES AUTELS. The only book which I have seen by Guillaume des Autels consists of but sixteen small leaves in the Gothic letter. It has no name of printer, nor date of time or place: its title, Le Moys de May, de Guilelme Deshaultelz de Montcenis en Bourgoignes Deus scit (with two rude figures of a man and woman conversing together). On the back of the title-page, the reason why it is so called is given in the following quatrain : Lecteur desprit dispos et gay, Si tu veux la raison comprendre De ce tiltre il te fault entendre Que ce jay faict au moys de May. Reader, light of heart and gay, Nearly all the next seven leaves are taken up with a dialogue between two personages, who are called Guilelme and Jeanne. The gentleman proposes questions, (demandes d'amour,) and the lady resolves them. The following will be enough to show in what manner this catechism proceeds. Guilelme-Icy me respondes doneques او Si vous scavez qui fust oncques} Jeanne.-Fust selon ma fantaisie William.-An if thou weetest, tell me this, And tell me sooth I pray ríð = Jane.-According to my fantasy, 976H Then follow some epigrams, in which, though he addresses the first of them to his sister and friend, the Damoiselle Jeanne de la Bruyere, and the second to his father, there is nevertheless a licentiousness in which I suppose the writer conceived that the "sprightly month" would war rant him. Sic Next comes Co plaincte sur la Mort de Clemet Marot p Calliope muse q' se peust charter sur Laisses la verde couleur faict p ledict Deshautelz.— Complaint on the Death of Clement Marot, by the Muse Calliope, which may be sung to the tune of Leave the Green Colour,' by the said Des Autels. |