ing if it was published in Rome, then if sold in Rome. He caught eagerly at the word sold, and, without much ado, told me the price-five scudi; that is, about twenty-five shillings. I saw at once it was enormous, and thought of the caution; and, remarking that it was a little soiled, said I ought to have it for three. He took three, and off I went with my print. Within an hour I passed a Stamperia, where I saw at the window a clean impression of the very print, and a printed list of the prices, and, would you believe it, Eusebius, it was under one scudo; and, for a damaged copy, I had been asked by this white-haired piece of antiquity, and inquitous antiquity, five, and had actually given three! Oh, Eusebius, you would not have been contented with blowing him up, you would have taken fire throughout, and gunpowdered the whole edifice, regardless of the literati and dilettanti, all the while gravely discussing the probabilities of the tombs of the Horatii and Curiatii; but, as you were not there, those discussions are still going on, and still will go on. But what did I do? I quietly walked back to the grand library, and as quietly told the old gentleman that he was a thief, a rascal, and that I would expose him to all the English. The last words did the business; he looked dreadfully alarmed, and looked behind him to see who might be within hearing; and, making significant nods, and putting one hand to my mouth, to prevent my doing mischief, in great haste put the other hand into his pocket and handed me back all my money.

This was pretty well, for I came off with "flying colours," that is with the colour of my money, which was sure to fly upon some other occasion; for the Italians were too much for me. And so it happened; for in my love of the antique I forgot my prudence; and, being desirous of having some plaster casts, was recommended to an honest tradesman, who was to take them for me from some sculpture at the Vatican, the subjects of which much pleased me. They were a pastoral figure, and a freize, the search of Ceres. I made my bargain, and like a fool paid my money, and paid for the packing and the shipping. But the unplastered shepherd is still piping; and all I can hope is that Ceres has sent the plaster-cast maker to Hades instead of going there herself, and that, having some interest with Proserpine, he will be flogged daily, for my money has been cast upon the worthless. I bequeath the debt a legacy to the Pope.

I have written enough, though I have matter more, and abundant, but there is a time for all things. Whatever effect this account may have upon your young friend, I am sure you, who know me, will be satisfied that I understate things. You know I have no talent at exaggeration. Probably your friend will read Eustace, and, if he be very young, believe him. Perhaps he will read Rogers' "Italy," and tell you that it is not mine, and you will add that I have not Rogers's Pleasures of Memory."

Vive valeque.

Z.

ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE is a descendant of one of the ancient noble provincial families of France, whose members were always actively employed in the service of their country. In the 15th century one of his ancestors is mentioned as "Capitaine de la Ville de Cluny," and his female ancestors continued to receive a "redevance' from the monastery of Cluny, until the first French Revolution, which abolished all such dues. In the Memorial des Etats de Bourgogne the family is registered. Several seignories belonged to it, such as those of D'Hurigny, D'Urcy, De Monceaux, &c., &c., and the chateau and estate of Monceaux still in his possession, by inheritance, have been for centuries in the family.

ALPHONSE MARIA LOUIS DE LAMARTINE was born on 21st October, 1791. His father was Captain of Cavalry in the Dauphiny regiment, and Chevalier of St Louis. He was one of those who remained faithful to the unfortunate and forsaken Louis XVI.; and, together with his grandfather, uncles, aunts, &c., was imprisoned for his political opinions at Macon. The mother of Alphonse took a house looking on the prison gate, that she might show her infant daily to his father through the bars of the jail. Had it not been for the timely death of Robespierre they would all have ascended the scaffold; but, in consequence of that event, they escaped, and retired to a small residence on a wine estate called Milly, which he has since celebrated in one of his Harmonies, entitled "La Terre Natale." Is it not extraordinary that he, who was in his infancy the son of a political prisoner at Macon, should now be the political representative of that town, his birth-place, in parliament? At Milly he passed his infancy in rustic liberty, and his fond. est affections gratefully attach him to this spot. There he first acquired his taste for nature. Birds, butterflies, flowers, and vineyards, were his companions, and the scenes of his early wanderings; and there the sunsets and sunrises, storms and tempests of the year, made an indelible impression on his young mind. At the college of Bellay, in the Department

of Ain, seated near the Rhone, he received his education, and early showed a great aptitude for learning, bearing away all the prizes and crowns yearly distributed. A French provincial education is at best, however, a sorry affair; and, when De Lamartine received his, there was certainly not more, but less attention paid than at present, to the formation of the mind of the student. This was, however, partially compensated for by the superior moral and religious education he then obtained. But De Lamartine was a genius and a poet. He had, in his earliest years, a passion for all that was beautiful, harmonious, and tasteful. He loved the quiet landscape, the domestic and family hearth, the grouping of virtue and cheerfulness, the melody of the birds, the humming of the bee, the active perseverance of the ant, the gay wings of the butterfly, the variegated foliage of the forest, the murmuring of the rill-the homestead, the barn, the thatched roof-the knell of the curfew, the ivy of the church, the village cemetery, the vigorous peasant, the harmony of nature, and the works of God. As he grew up, he found the moral world replete also with good. Noble and generous sentiments, a disinterested love of his fellow-creatures, and an elevated piety towards the Father of heaven and earth, took possession of his nature; and, as Aimé Martin says, in his Education des Maurs de Famille, "Voilà pourquoi les grands écrivains nous ravissent; voilà pourquoi les grands poètes nous enlèvent ! voilà pourquoi, d'un trait de leur génie, ils soufflent sur la foule vulgaire le dénouement des Grecques pour la patrie, ou les transports de Socrate pour la vertu."

On leaving college De Lamartine returned to his family, and often retired alone to the Chateau de St Point, which belonged to his father, but which was then uninhabited, and nearly in ruins. This solitary and romantic scene was admirably adapted to the character of his mind, and suited his imaginative and poetic tendencies. He continually studied nature whilst he read history, and examined, with the eye of Christian philosophy, the natu

ral, as well as the moral world which he inhabited.

As, during the reign of Napoleon, his family would not allow him to accept any public employment, remaining, as it did, faithful to the eldest branch of the House of Bourbon, the young De Lamartine resolved on foreign travel, and made a journey to Italy, and a long residence there, for the purpose of supplying his mind with those classical recollections which should improve his natural taste, and prepare him for his future career as a French poet. Want of occupation, to the young De Lamartine, neither suited his principles nor his tastes. He had no notion of a young man of talent, fortune, and family, having the right to eat, and drink, and laugh, and dance, and sleep, without making any attempt to mitigate the sorrows, improve the character, increase the knowledge, or ameliorate the taste of his fellow-mortals. As, then, he was interdicted by his family from accepting any civil or military employment under Napoleon, he determined on so actively occupying his time as to render himself, at least, prepared for future usefulness, when any change should take place in the destinies of France. Though not a soldier by profession, he yet received military preparation; and, when the Restoration arrived, he was permitted to become a member of the bodyguard of Louis XVIII.

The mother of De Lamartine was Mademoiselle Des Roys, a young lady of distinguished merit and beauty. Her mother was governess to the royal princes, and she was herself brought up with the present King of the French, Louis Philippe, and with Madame Adelaide, his sister. She lived to an advanced age, and died in 1828. The father of De Lamartine is still living, in his 87th year, in full possession of all his faculties, and not less venerable for his noble and consistent character, than for the number of years during which he has lived, beloved by his family, his friends, and his princes.

De Lamartine had five sisters, and on occasion of the marriage of one of them to the Count de Viguet, at Chamberry in Savoy, the poet became acquainted with his amiable and accomplished lady, the daughter of W. H. Birch, Esq., who was then travelling on the Continent with her mother. At the Marquise de la Pierre's, at

Chamberry, they first saw each other, and a deep-settled attachment was formed, which was, however, opposed by both the mother and family of Miss Birch. At length the consent of the former was obtained, on condition that De Lamartine should quit the military career, should enter on that of diplomacy, and should obtain the appointment of secretary to the French embassy in London. The father of Miss Birch was an officer of merit in the British army, and spent half his fortune in equipping a volunteer corps and battery to resist a threatened French descent on the coast of England. Little did he think at that time that his then infant child would become the wife of the greatest French poet of the age in which he lived. The maternal great-grandfather of Madame de Lamartine was the Governor Holwell, who survived the catastrophe of the Black Hole in Calcutta, and lived to the advanced age of 99. Her father and brothers all served in India in the civil department, and held very high situations. Thus the families of De Lamartine and Birch, with all their branches, have belonged to the aristocracy of the two countries.

Immediately after the marriage of De Lamartine with Miss Birch, they set off to Naples, he having been ap. pointed secretary to the embassy there. They then proceeded to Rome, to another diplomatic nomination; thence, for a short time, to London; and finally, to Florence, where he acted in the capacity of chargé d'affaires. In 1829 he left Florence to be appointed Minister in Greece, and then arrived those events of 1830, which once more changed the whole tenor of his life, since, from principle, he gave in his resignation, and has never since accepted any post under Government.

Apprehensive of a long and sanguinary revolution-disapproving, on the one hand, the ordinances of Charles X., and, on the other hand, the exclusion of the Duke de Bourdeaux from the throne of France-resolved on separating himself from political party agitation-convinced that his country had need of order and repose, and not of agitation and discussion-and above and before all things, anxious to visit the Holy Land, and to impregnate his very soul on the spot with those emotions which he wished to feel, and which he desired to cultivate - De

Lamartine determined on carrying into effect his long-devised plan, and on quitting the shores of his country for several years. To that voyage we shall hereafter more specially refer. It was one of the great events of his life but the loss of his darling and beloved daughter there has thrown a melancholy over his spirit, which it is not very probable will ever wholly forsake it.

Whilst absent on this poetical and religious journey to the Holy Land, the electors of a small electoral college named Bergues, a fortified town in France, in the Department of the North, a few miles from Dunkirk, thought fit to appoint him their deputy. On first receiving the news of this wholly unexpected honour, De Lamartine hesitated as to its acceptance, but he finally determined on returning to France to fulfil the new duties imposed upon him. At the ensuing general elections he was renamed at Bergues, and, at the same time, appointed deputy by his native town, Macon; but, as he had promised the electors of the former place to remain their deputy in case they should again appoint him, he declined becoming the representative of his birthplace. At the last general election, however, having been returned by the electors of both the college Intra Muros, and that of Extra Muros at Macon, he felt it his duty to accept one of these nominations, to the great regret of the electors of Bergues, who had returned him without a dissentient voice. This rapid sketch of the outline of De Lamartine's life will materially assist in the consideration of his character and labours as a poet and as a politician. We have much to add, and much to fill up-but the sketch is before our readers.

DE LAMARTINE is at once a poet, a moralist, and a politician. It is not our intention to depict him in only one of these characters, but to present the whole man. His poetry is the charm of his life, his morals the ornament of his life, his social political system the end of his life. There was a time when it was truly said of him,

"Aimer, prier, et chanter-voila toute sa vie!"

This can be said no longer? There is another verb which must now be added, and that verb is " agir." He

is now the active man, the daily benefactor of his species, the suppressor of gaming houses, the abolisher of lotteries, the protector of foundlings, the gradual emancipator of slaves, the Christian instructor of the people, the visitor of the prisons and lunatic asylums, and the CHIEF of that SOCIAL PARTY in France whose efforts are little known in England, and whose exertions it is our design to communicate, as we feel it our duty to applaud.

This happy combination of grace and imagination with moral and Christian principle-of blandness of manner and gentleness of character with decision of mind and practical philanthropy, is not often to be met with in this world of ours; and when it is so, it is to be hailed with delight, and held up to imitation and praise. A Christian poet, a Christian gentleman, a Christian man of education and genius, and a Christian politician, who will not allow his political system to be based on any thing but morals and religion, is a man as rare as he is valuable; it is therefore that we have determined on presenting a sketch of his character.

De Lamartine is now the poet, the moralist, and the politician, and we will examine what he has done, and what he is doing, in these three capacities.

If there be not a vast deal of method in our summary,—and if sometimes we appear not to be sufficiently attentive to the chronological order of our history, let it be remembered that after all, we are writing a sketch of a poet, and that to methodize too much, would infringe on our prerogatives of following him in his flights, and of attempting, at least, to give an idea of his fancy, as well as of his intellectual attainments. The 19th century in France has hitherto produced but two great poets and distinguished writers CHATEAUBRIAND and DE LAMARTINE. They are both royalists. They have both remained inflexibly attached to the fallen dynasty. They are both essentially monarchical. They have never hesitated to declare this, nor shrunk from rendering it apparent. What can the democratic school in France produce to compare with them? Notwithstanding all the vauntings, the proud and idle boastings of that school, what has it done-where are its names

what are its productions? Victor Hugo, though most unsettled in his

politics since his invitation by LouisPhilippe to the fêtes at Versailles, is yet far, very far from belonging to the George Sand and Alexander Dumas' class of writers. Chateaubriand and De Lamartine are in France at this day unrivalled.

The favourite writers of De Lamartine, when he was young, were Ma

dame de Staël and Chateaubriand. But more tender than this his literary mother, and more philosophical than M. de Chateaubriand, his literary father, retaining the royalist instincts of his birth and education, at the same time feeling a profound love of rational liberty, he has at once sympathized with the past and looked forward to the future. His ideas are calmly progressive. He is noble and great in his enthusiasm and never having reason to doubt the sincerity of his own heart, he places much confidence in the assurances and declarations of others. When young, he was so enthusiastic in favour of Madame de Staël, that he passed a whole day by the road-side merely to see her pass in her caleche. It was the only time he beheld her. For Chateaubriand, also, he had a profound affection;—and on one occasion, in order to see him, he climbed a wall, and remained there no inconsiderable period-and then, having satisfied his longing eyes, he descended and inscribed on the outer gate some verses to the genius he admired. This was the enthusiasm of youth. It is now moderated by years, and calmed by reflection.

That the young De Lamartine should search for great men, and great minds-for religion allied to literature, and poetry to morals,-can excite no surprise in those who remember, that, though born of Christian parents, and educated in the Christian faith, he lived in the epoch of the triumph of Bonaparte and Delille-and could no where find, though already a poet and philosoper himself either poetry or philosophy.

The education of De Lamartine being one of a strictly private and retired character, he had few opportunities afforded him of knowing the men of the day, or the writers of the age. He had a secret partiality for Jean Jacques Rousseau, not as the reasoner and the false philosopher of the "Social Contract," but as the poet of Heloise. With the works of

Ossian, Homer, Virgil, Tasso, Milton, Bernardin St Pierre, he became intimately acquainted; and many stanzas-nay, thousands of lines-have been written by him, which he afterwards destroyed, but which his friends and admirers now, indeed, wish had been preserved. At last he was prevailed on to read to a select party of friends, his "LAC;"-and the history of this first communication of his talent to the public is worth relating.

It was in a large saloon that a numerous audience was collected by the kindness and affection of a friend. He dreaded the moment. Timid and modest, he would gladly have adjourned the day when the hour drew near. He felt that he was a mere young country squire, a mere poet from Macon, the son of a faithful royalist and of a brave soldier-but that was all; and those who were collected to hear him were-CRITICS! When his harmonious poesy reached the at first inattentive ears of this Areopagus, he was ready to sink into the earth with apprehension; but soon he perceived that they became attentive-then that their eyes glistened with delight-then that they gave expression to their admiration and astonishment-and at last, when he concluded, he raised his eyes, and found that he was dignified with the title of POET. At that moment his auditory perceived that he was handsome as well as poetical, and that his black hair, fine ardent eyes, and noble open forehead, denoted him to be a youth of no ordinary nature. though he was successful in a saloon, why should he be in the press? Chateaubriand had been denounced as a pitiful writer-and so what chance had he? But necessity-yes, necessity— at last compelled him to publish his first volume," MEDITATIONS;" for he had spent all his money at Paris, had lived in the capital as a poet, was too good a son to apply to his mother for aid, and was obliged to address himself to M. De Genoude, now the chief proprietor of the Gazette de France, for advice and assistance. That gentleman placed in the hands of the poet a few hundred francs, bade him take courage, kindly disposed of his work for him, and thus brought before the public, ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE.The success of the Meditations was prodigious,-not greater than they deserved, but still prodigious; after

But