Bride" was nowhere to be found, having, in fact, been left behind in town. Exceedingly annoyed by this circumstance, which there was no time to remedy, the dramatist took a pondering stroll through the rural environs of B- A sudden shower obliged him to take refuge within a huckster's shop, where the usual curtained half-glass door in the rear opened to an adjoining apartment; from this room he heard two voices in earnest conversation, and in one of them recognised that of his theatrical petitioner at the morning, apparently replying to the feebler tones of age and infirmity. There, now, mother, always that old story-when I've just brought such good news too-after I've had the face to call on Mr. Monk Lewis, and found him so different to what I expected; so good-humoured, so affable, and willing to assist me. I did not say a word about you, mother; for though in some respects it might have done good, thought it would seem so like a begging affair; so I merely represented my late ill-success, and he promised to give me an original drama, which he had with him, for my benefit. I hope he did not think me too bold!" "I hope not, Jane," replied the feeble voice; "only don't do these things again without consulting me; for you don't know the world, and it may be thought' The sun just then gave a broad hint that the shower had ceased, and the sympatbising author returned to his inn, and having penned the following letter, ordered post-horses, and despatched a porter to the young actress with the epistle: 666 MADAM-I am truly sorry to acquaint you that my Hindoo Bride has behaved most improperly-in fact, whether the lady has eloped or not, it seems she does not choose to make her appearance, either for your benefit or mine: and to say the truth, I don't at this moment know where to find her. I take the liberty to jest upon the subject, because I really do not think you will have any cause to regret her non-appearance; having had an opportunity of witnessing your very admirable performance of a far superior character, in a style true to nature, and which reflects upon you the highest credit. I allude to a most interesting scene in which you lately sustained the character of "The Daughter!' Brides of all denominations but too often prove their empire delusive; but the character you have chosen will improve upon every representation, both in the estimation of the public and the satisfaction of your own excellent heart. For the infinite gratification I have received, I must long consider myself in your debt. Trusting you will permit the inclosed (fifty pounds) in some measure to discharge the same I remain, madam-with sentiments of respect and admiration-your sincere well-wisher-M. G. LEWIS." Scott met Lewis in Edinburgh in 1798, and so humble were then his own aspirations, and so brilliant the reputation of the Monk,' that he declared, thirty years afterwards, he never felt such elation as when Lewis asked him to dine with him at his hotel! Lewis schooled the great poet on his incorrect rhyme, and proved himself, as Scott says, 'a martinet in the accuracy of rhymes and numbers.' Sir Walter has recorded that Lewis was fonder of great people than he ought to have been, cither as a man of talent or as a man of fashion. He had always,' he says, 'dukes and duchesses in his mouth, and was pathetically fond of any one that had a title: you would have sworn he had been a parvenu of yesterday; yet he had lived all his life in good society.* Yet Scott regarded Lewis with no small affection. He was,' added he, 'one of the kindest and best creatures that ever lived. His father and mother lived separately. Mr. Lewis allowed his son a handsome income, but reduced it by more than one-half when he found that he paid his mother a moiety of it. Mat. restricted himself in all his expenses, and shared the diminished income with her as before. He did much good by stealth, and was a most generous creature.' The sterling worth of his character has been illustrated by the publication of his correspondence, which, slumbering twenty years after his death, first disclosed to the public the calm good sense, discretion, and right feeling which were concealed by the exaggerated romance of his writings, and his gay and frivolous appearance and manners. The death of Lewis's father made the poet a man of independent fortune. He succeeded to considerable plantations in the West Indies, besides a large sum of money; and in order to ascertain personally the condition of the slaves on his estate, he sailed for the West Indies in 1815. Of this voyage he wrote a narrative, and kept journals, forming the most interesting and valuable production of his pen. The manner in which the negroes received him on his arrival amongst them he thus describes: 'As soon as the carriage entered my gates, the uproar and confusion which ensued sets all description at defiance. The works were instantly all abandoned; everything that had life came flocking to the house from all quarters; and not only the men, and the women, and the children, but " by a bland assimilation," the hogs, and the dogs, and the geese and the fowls, and the turkeys, all came hurrying along by instinct, to see what could possibly be the matter, and seemed to be afraid of arriving too late. Whether the pleasure of the *Of this weakness Byron records an amusing instance: Lewis, at Oatlands, was ob served one morning to have his eyes red and his air sentimental: being asked why, ho replied, that when people said anything kind to him it affected him deeply. and just now the Duchess (of York) has said something so kind to me, that' Here tears began to flow. Never mind, Lewis," said Colonel Armstrong to him- never minddon't cry-she could not mean it." Lewis was of extremely diminutive stature. I remember a picture of him,' says Scott, by Saunders, being handed round at Dalkeith House. The artist had ingeniously flung a dark folding mantle around the form, under which was halfhid a dagger, a dark lantern, or some such cut-throat appurtenance. With all this, the features were preserved and ennobled. It passed from hand to hand Into that of Henry, Duke of Buccleuch, who, hearing the general voice affirm that it was very like said aloud Like Mat. Lewis! Why that picture's like a MAN!" He looked, and lo! Mat. Lewis's head was at his elbow. This boyishness went through life with him. He was a child, and a spoiled child-but a child of high imagination, and so he wasted himself on ghost stories and German romances. He had the finest ear for the rhythm of yerse I ever met with-finer than Byron's.? negroes was sincere, may be doubted; but, certainly, it was the loudest that I ever witnessed; they all talked together, sang, danced, shouted, and, in the violence of their gesticulations, tumbled over each other, and rolled about upon the ground. Twenty voices at once inquired after uncles and aunts, and grandfathers and great-grandmothers of mine, who had been buried long before I was in existence, and whom, I verily believe, most of them only knew by tradition. One woman held up her little naked black child to me, grinning from ear to ear-"Look massa, look here! him nice lilly neger for massa!" Another complained—“ So long since none come see we, massa; good massa come at last." As for the old people, they were all in one and the same story: now they had lived once to see massa, they were ready for dying to-morrow" them no care. The shouts, the gaiety, the wild laughter, their strange and sudden bursts of singing and dancing, and several old women, wrapped up in large cloaks, their heads bound round with differentcoloured handkerchiefs, leaning on a staff, and standing motionless in the middle of the hubbub, with their eyes fixed upon the portico which I occupied, formed an exact counterpart of the festivity of the witches in Macbeth. Nothing could be more odd or more novel than the whole scene; and yet there was something in it by which I could not help being affected. Perhaps it was the consciousness that all these human beings were my slaves.' Lewis returned to England in 1816, but went back to Jamaica the following year. He found that his attorney had grossly mismanaged his property, being generally absent on business of his own, and intrusting the whole to an overseer, who was of a tyrannical disposition. Having adjusted his affairs, the Monk' embarked on his return home. The climate, however, had impaired his health, and he died of fever while the ship was passing through the Gulf of Florida in July 1818. Lewis may thus be said to have fallen a martyr to his love of justice and humanity, and the circumstance sheds a lustre on his memory far surpassing mere literary fame. Durandarte and Belerma Sad and fearful is the story There fell Durandarte; never 'Oh, Belerma! oh, my dear one, 'And when now thy heart, replying Ah! though young I fall, believe me, 'Oh! my cousin, Montesinos, 'Montesinos, now the hour 'Eyes, which forth beheld me going, Thy kind hand my eyelids closing, So shall Jesus, still attending, Pleased accept my ghost ascending, Thus spoke gallant Durandarte; Bitter weeping, Montesinos To perform his promise made, he Sad was Montesinos' heart, he Oh! my cousin, Durandarte, 'Sweet in manners, fair in favour, 'Cousin, lo! my tears bedew thee. Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogine. A warrior so bold, and a virgin so bright, They gazed on each other with tender delight: 'And, oh!' said the youth, since to-morrow I go Your tears for my absence soon ceasing to flow, 'Oh! hush these suspicions,' Fair Imogine said, For, if you be living, or if you be dead, I swear by the Virgin that none in your stead If e'er I, by lust or by wealth led aside, God grant that, to punish my falsehood and pride, To Palestine hastened the hero so bold But scarce had a twelvemonth elapsed, when, behold! His treasures, his presents, his spacious domain, He dazzled her eyes, he bewildered her brain; And now had the marriage been blest by the priest; The tables they groaned with the weight of the feast, Then first with amazement Fair Imogine found A stranger was placed by her side: His air was terrific; he uttered no sound He spake not, he moved not, he looked not around His visor was closed, and gigantic his height, His armour was sable to view; All pleasure and laughter were hushed at his sight; His presence all bosoms appeared to dismay; The guests sat in silence and fear; At length spake the bride-while she trembled: 'I pray The lady is silent; the stranger complies- O God! what a sight met Fair Imogine's eyes! All present then uttered a terrified shout, All turned with disgust from the scene; The worms they crept in, and the worms they crept out, And sported his eyes and his temples about, While the spectre addressed Imogine: 'Behold me, thon false one, behold me!' ne cried; God grants that, to punish thy falsehood and pride, Thus saying, his arms round the lady he wound, Then sunk with his prey through the wide-yawning growẩ Or the spectre that bore her away. Not long lived the baron; and none, since that time, To inhabit the castle presume; For chronicles tell that, by order sublime, There Imogine suffers the pain of her crime, And mourns her deplorable doom. |