with his own hand, in order to render the style of that great man familiar to him.
Adrian Turnebus, a French critic, was so indefatigable in his study, that it was said of him, as it was of Budaeus, that he spent some hours in study even on the day he was married.
Frederick Morel had so strong an attachment to study, that when he was informed of his wife's being at the point of death, he would not lay down his pen, till he had finished what he was upon, and when she was dead, as she was before they could prevail on him to stir, he was only heard to reply coldly, "I am very sorry, she was a good woman."
Sir Isaac Newton, when he had any mathematical problems or solutions in his mind, would never quit the subject on any account; dinner was often known to be three hours ready for him before he could be brought to table. His man often said, when he was getting up in the morning, and began to dress, he would, with one leg in his breeches, sit down again on the bed, and remain there for hours before he got his clothes on.
Mr. Abraham Sharp, the astronomer, through his love of study, was very irregular as to his meals, which he frequently took in the following manner: a little square hole, something like a window, made a communication between the room where he usually studied, and another chamber in the house, where a servant could enter, and before this hole he had contrived a sliding board, the servant always placing his victuals in the hole, without speaking a word or making the least noise, and when he had leisure he visited it to see what it contained, and to satisfy his hunger or thirst. But it often happened that the breakfast, the dinner, and the supper remained untouched by him, so deeply was he engaged in his calculations and solemn musings. At one time after his provisions had been neglected for a long season, his family became uneasy, and resolved to break in upon his retirement; he complained, but with great mildness, that they had disconcerted his thoughts in a chain of calculations which had cost him intense application for three days successively. On an old oak table, where for a long course of years he used to write, cavities might easily be perceived, worn by the perpetual rubbing of his arms and elbows.8
SWAINE.
THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS
THE CONTRAST
The title of Lord Mulgrave's clever novel is sufficiently explained by the hero, Lord Castleton, a man of high refinement, marrying an unsophisticated, uneducated peasant girl. The scenes and incidents of her introduction into the fashionable world are replete with humour, yet true to the life. Thus, how naturally are her new Ladyship's embarrassments told:—
"There were some points on which she would even have endeavoured to extract knowledge from the servants; but dreading, from her former habits, nothing so much as too great a familiarity in this respect, Castleton had made it one of his first desires to her, that she would confine her communications with them, to asking for what she wanted. To this, as to every other desire of his, she yielded, as far as she could, implicit obedience; but it was often a great exertion on her part to do so. Of her own maid she had felt from the first a considerable awe; and to such a degree did this continue, that she could not conceive any fatigue from labour equal to the burthen of her assistance. Being naturally of a disposition both active and obliging, it was quite new to her to have any thing done for her which she could do for herself. For some time she had as great a horror of touching a bell-rope, as others have in touching the string of a shower-bath; and when services were obtruded on her by the domestics as a matter of course, she had much difficulty in checking the exuberance of her gratitude.
"At home, Big Betsey, mentioned before as the maid of all work, never considered as any part of her multitudinous duties the waiting on Miss Lucy, who she not only said 'mought moind herself,' but sometimes called to her, almost authoritatively, 'to lend a hauping haund.' It was, probably, in consequence of the habit thus engendered, that Lady Castleton was one day caught 'lending a helping hand' to an over-loaded under laundry-maid, who had been sent by her superior with a wicker-bound snowy freight of her Ladyship's own superfine linen. But of all the irksome feelings caused by Lucy's new position, there was none from which she suffered more, than waiting to be waited on. And it was hinted in the hall, that when my Lord was not in the room, my Lady got up to help herself to what she wanted from the sideboard!! And it was whispered in the female conclave of the housekeeper's room, that her Lady-ship seemed even to like to—lace her own stays!!"
Again, after Lady Castleton receiving a visit from a ton-ish family, his Lordship asks:—
And did they make many inquiries of you? ask many questions?"
"Oh, such a many!"
"So many, dearest love, you mean to say."
"Well, so I do, thank you; and then the mamma asked me, as she had never seen me before, if I had not been much abroad; and I said, never at all till I married; and then she said, 'What! had I been to Paris since?' and I find she meant foreign parts by abroad. And she told me that we ought to go to London soon; that the season was advanced, and that the Pasta would come out soon this spring. What is the Pasta—a plant?"
"A plant! no, love. Pasta is a singer's name, you could not be expected to know that; but I hope you didn't say any thing to show them your ignorance?"
"Oh, no; you told me, whenever I was completely puzzled, that silence was best; so I said nothing. Pasta's the name of a singer, then! Oh, that accounts, for a moment after she the mamma said, that her daughter Arabella sang delightfully, and asked me if I would sing with her; so I said no, I'd much rather listen. That was right, warn't it? You see I knew you'd ask me all about it, so I recollected it for you. Arabella then asked me if I would accompany her? so I said, Wherever she liked,—where did she want to go? But, I suppose, she altered her mind, for she sat down to the grand instrument you had brought here for me to begin my lessons upon; and then she sang such an extraordinary song—all coming from her throat. And the sister asked me if I understood German? and I answered, No, nor French neither."
"That was an unnecessary addition, my love."
"Well, so it was. Then the youngest sister explained to me, that it was a song a Swiss peasant girl sang whilst she was milking her cow; and I said that must be very difficult, to sing while milking a cow. And then the mamma asked how I knew; and I said I had tried very often."
"How could you, dear Lucy, volunteer such an avowal?"
"I thought you would be afraid of that; but it all did very well, for the mother said I was so amusing, had so much natural wit, and they all tried to persuade me I had said something clever."
"Well, go on—and what then?"
"And then the lady took me aside, and began saying so much in praise of you; and when she once got me on that subject, I was ready and glib enough, I warrant you. But somehow, though I then found it so much easier to speak, I find it more difficult to recollect exactly what I said. Is not that strange? And then she said that my happiness would excite so much envy in the great world; that you had been admired, courted, nay, even loved by rich, noble, clever ladies. Why was all this? and how could you ever think to leave all these, to seek out from her quiet home your poor little Lucy?"
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Mr. Colton used to say that he wrote his treasurable, "Lacon: or, many things in a few words," upon a small, rickety deal table. We perceive from Galignani's
