panion-picture to Tennyson's "Godiva," with the advantage of a finer subject? "The Bene- ! diction," "The Children in the Colosseum," "The Sky-lark," and other favourites here included, having already appeared in the "New Monthly Belle Assemblée," we need only recall them to our readers' minds, to claim for Charles Hitchings recognition as one of the band of living poets that make bright the galaxy of which Tennyson and the Brownings are the chief stars. What a mass of vital breathing poetry has been published within the last year -poetry which is slowly but surely making its way-any one selection of which would have made the town's talk thirty years ago! For instance, and writing from random recollection, the volume of poems by W. C. Bennett, whose versatile genius can one moment seize the spirit of an old Greek, and the next breathe out some simple ditty with quite womanly tenderness; those by the young Irish poet, William Allingham, full of vigour and fancy; and Mrs. D. Ogilvy's volume, of which not long since we spoke more fully. But it is with Mr. Hitchings we have now to do, though less as a critic than as a sincere admirer. On looking over this collection of his poems, we are struck with the rare union of vigorous imagination and graceful fancy which they display-two very different qualities, though often foolishly confounded-and by the artistlike mastery of his materials which he has acquired. As a writer of finished and melodious lyrics, he seems to us nearly unrivalled; sometimes displaying the grace and quaint fancy that one associates with Herrick and Lovelace, though generally conveying a deeper and truer meaning than those old writers (with a few exceptions) cared to embody. And yet the longer poems have their own special and rare marks of excellence, so that one is sometimes puzzled which to think the greater. Many of the poems, too, are so dramatic in their treatment or their suggestions that we cannot help thinking their author would succeed were he to plume his wing for a higher flight and try dramatic writing. He has sufficient invention and constructive power, we are pretty sure; while of the needful poetry, philosophy, and healthy tone of mind, this little volume is quite sufficient evidence. We must make room for another extract. "THE LAY OF ONE FORGOTTEN. And hushed from every wakeful sound; Where every fond illusion seems The world is very cold and bleak, Name never more my former nameYe could not breathe it and be gay, Remembering how the hand of Shame Tore from your love that one away. Happy, and good, and tearless beBut sometimes waste a thought on me! Think of me as ye think of those From you the unrestful wave dividesUpon whose distant fortunes close, In severance harsh, ungenial tidesDear to the memory's pensive hour For gentle words and pressures past— Dearer because a transient flower, Whose short-lived sweetness did not last. When in your hearts old times shall be, Sweet sisters, sometimes think on me! Or as the dead-(a tenderer thought, From out the mind ye leave to pass, Remembering but its earlier grace, And all the gentle thing it was. When in your hearts the dead shall be, O, sisters, sometimes think on me! No need to ask these alms of love, Could I but lay this bosom bare, Each aching memory cloistered there: The trustful hope-a ruin now- O, sisters of the stainless brow, Surely these stanzas tell the history of a heart-almost of a household. But our space closes in, and we must not dip again into these enticing pages. TO TENNYSON. (A Sonnet.) C. C. BY MRS. CHARLES ROWLAND DICKEN. Beneath thy magic music, beings start Into existence, which the painter's brush Could not more truly picture; for the gush Of melody surrounds thy pleasant art. The rich deep thought, and the diviner partThe sweet soft yearnings of a loving soulPervade thy songs; and to the witching whole Belongs the beauty of a poet's heart. Oh Tennyson! thy strains are true and pure, And breathe of harmonies from spheres above; When others die, thy lays will long endure, For their true character is holy love. Long may'st thou sing, nor e'er be quenched the fire Which trembles from thy silver-stringed lyre. CAROLINE WILHELMINA OF ANSPACH, CONSORT OF GEORGE THE SECOND. BY MRS. NEWTON CROSLAND. It is difficult to isolate an historical character; and if it were an easy thing to do, instead of being nearly impossible, I am inclined to think the picture so executed would be poor and incomplete-something like a profile cut in paper, without shadow or background, or artistic accessories! Thus the name of Caroline, consort of George the Second, conjures up to the mind's eye an attendant train and surrounding crowd of courtiers and savants, political intriguers, and mock patriots; fine ladies, with the manners of modern low life, and withering in a dense darkness of ignorance, such as would be shame to a housemaid of the nineteenth century. Athwart this darkness, it is true, spread gleams of bright intelligence and cultivated intellect: witness the large-souled Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, and that brave, beautiful, clear-minded, very charm-second year, and had no father living to exert ing virago, Sarah of Marlborough. Not to mention some lesser lights, from the débris of whose correspondence, which alone has drifted down to us, we have glimmerings of good sense and natural acuteness, that make themselves known through a mass of flippant vulgarity, very curious orthography, and most discordant syntax. of her day; and though by no means devoid of ambition, and rigorous very frequently even on points of etiquette, she did not consider that obtaining the world's high places was the end or aim of existence. Her rejection of the hand of Charles, son of Leopold the First, was honourable to her principles, whether it proceeded from personal indifference, or was, as it was considered, a striking proof of her adherence to the Protestant faith. Caroline Wilhelmina was the daughter of the Margrave of Anspach, and born in 1683. She lost her father when very young; and her mother, a princess of the house of Saxe Eysenach, marrying afterwards the Elector of Saxony, the young Caroline was confided to the guardianship of Frederick of Brandenburg, subsequently King of Prussia, and thus derived the inestimable advantage of receiving her education under the superintendence of her aunt, his wife, the accomplished Sophia Charlotte, sister of George the First. No less amiable than intellectually gifted, the Queen of Prussia was honoured and beloved for her patronage of literature, science, and art; and her death, when only thirty-seven, was universally lamented. This melancholy event occurred in 1705, the same year in which her niece gave her hand to George, then Electoral Prince of Hanover. It would be difficult to overrate the advantages Caroline must have derived from her early residence at the court of Berlin; or to say how much of her subsequent patronage and apparent appreciation of men of learning may have arisen from the happy bias and strong impressions her mind received in youth. However much biographers may differ on the minor points of her character, there seems little reason to doubt that Caroline was distinguished by an earnest integrity of purpose, above and beyond the standard On reviewing the aspect of Europe at the commencement of the last century, it does not appear that the Electoral Prince of Hanover could have been thought a sufficiently "great match" to present any plausible temptations for forcing Caroline's inclinations; and taking into account that she had completed her twenty parental authority over her, it is fair to assume that the marriage was quite as much one of mutual regard as princes are, or more especially were, permitted to know. It is true that his grandmother, the Electress Sophia, became, on the accession of Anne, the next Protestant heir to the throne of England; but the petty courts of Germany, spectators of the English revolution, had seen too many sudden changes and seeming inconsistences, to entertain, one would think, any very certain expectations on the subject of the succession. However sturdily the People, ultimately a Nation's sure legislators, might have determined to exclude that branch which had rooted itself in the errors of popery, and borne the fruit by which it might be known, there was a counter influence which must have weighed down the other scale to nearly an even balance. Great kings and petty potentates alike yielded their sympathies to the exiled Stuarts; nor were partisans of the fallen family altogether wanting round the Elector's own hearth. A loyalty which was almost a religious sentiment glowed, and was well known to glow, in the hearts of thousands whose swords for a time perforce were sheathed, whose lips perforce were silenced. And the calmest of judges, or most clear-sighted of statesmen, could scarcely have predicted, with certainty, the happy issue. There is no doubt the Electoral Prince was as truly and warmly attached to his bride as it was possible for a nature essentially phlegmatic to be; and abundant evidence also proves that his affection increased with years, as did her influence over his mind and actions. Caroline must have been eminently discreet in her conduct, or she could not have steered her difficult course as she did through the different cabals which began early in her married life. Long before the accession of George the First, the misunderstanding between him and his son took place, originating probably from several causes, not the least being that the Electoral Prince doted on his mother, the unfortunate, and, there is every reason to believe, cruelly maligned Sophia of Zell. The discovery of the assassination of Count Koningsinark was made in after years; and to Caroline only it is believed were the details of the murder, and of the finding of the body, made known by her husband. There was thought to be involved a dreadful secret, which the most unloving son might well desire to keep. By his mother, too, George the First seemed to be scarcely more warmly regarded than by his son; while the evident partiality of the Electress Sophia for her grandson, was another cause of jealousy and estrangement between him and his father. The prince was put under arrest, and though that was soon taken off, he and the princess were ordered to leave the palace, and retired to the house of her chamberlain, the Earl of Grantham, in Albemarle Street. Notice was also given that no persons who paid their respects to the Prince and Princess of Wales should be received at court; and they were deprived of their guard, and all other marks of distinction. One could almost fancy that family quarrels were but the development of some hereditary tendency among the earlier Georges; for, twenty years afterwards, we find a very similar drama performed, George the Second sustaining now the role of the enraged father. The same house even, in Leicester Square, which had been occupied by himself when exiled from St. James's, found a tenant in Frederick Prince of Wales, under precisely the same circumstances; and his indignation at the apparently necessitated arrangements connected with the birth of George the Third, was to the full as vexatious and tyrannical as that he had experienced on his quarrel with the Duke of Newcastle; who, by the way, was by this time restored to favour, and holding offices of trust under the govern ment. We must return, however, to earlier days, before Caroline was queen and among her household were two ladies who require an especial introduction - Mrs. Clayton, afterwards Viscountess Sundon; and Mrs. Howard, afterwards Countess of Suffolk. On the accession of the latter to the throne of England, they came over together in apparent harmony; but the fire of their old feuds was by no means extinguished, and burst out again more violently than ever. The flame was fanned by the partizan spirit to which it gave birth; one party voting a separate revenue of a hundred thousand a-year to be settled on the Prince of Wales, and the other negativing it with equal fervour. While absent in Hanover, the king was in a measure compelled to cede the reins of government to the heir apparent, but he did it with ungracious reluctance; and instead of bestowing on him the expected and customary Charlotte Clayton-whose maiden name was title of Regent, appointed him" Guardian of Dyves-must have sprung from an obscure, or the Realm and Lieutenant." During all this perhaps humble family, since little or nothing is stormy weather," the Princess of Wales seems known of her until after her marriage with Mr. to have maintained the respect, if she never won Clayton, a clerk in the Treasury. From the the regard, of her very unloveable father-in-letters of several of her relations, of whose forlaw. Indeed, he seems to have hated her rather more than he hated his son; and the manner in which he used to speak of her as cette diablesse Madame la Princesse, was characteristic of the man and of his feelings. Horace Walpole describes a scene worth recording, as he heard it from an eye-witness, which is curiously illustrative of the open warfare which was maintained, and the pertinacity on both sides about affairs not apparently of the greatest moment. The Princess of Wales had given birth to her second son, and it was the wish of the prince that his uncle the Duke of York, and the king, should be godfathers. His majesty, however, insisted that the Duke of Newcastle should be sponsor, and the christening took place accordingly. The ceremony was performed in the princess's chamber; but no sooner had the bishop concluded, than the prince crossed the room in a rage, stepped up to the Duke of Newcastle, and holding up his hand and forefinger in a menacing attitude, said, 'You are a rascal, but I shall find you!' meaning, in his broken English, I shall find a time to be revenged!" The consequence of this outbreak was renewed persecution from his father, who chose to understand his threat to the duke as a challenge. tunes she never lost sight during the days of her own power and prosperity, it is evident they were in narrow if not indigent circumstances. Yet in some sort she was a protegee of the Duchess of Marlborough-who, with the example of Abigail Hill's insolence and ingratitude before her, was ever ready to rail at a low-born adventuress-for it was through the intercession of her Grace that Mrs. Clayton was appointed bedchamber-woman to Caroline, Princess of Wales! Caroline was far too sagacious and self-sustained a woman to be what is vulgarly understood as governed by a favourite; and in accounting for the prominent position Mrs. Clayton speedily assumed, the most rational conclusion is, that the princess and she were bound by a tie of friendship much more honest and sincere than might be supposed to exist from their relative positions. It is impossible to study the correspondence of Lady Sundon without being struck by her evident congeniality of mind and character with those of her royal It is only justice to acknowledge obligation to Mrs. Thomson's "Memoirs of the Viscountess Sun don." Two charming volumes, which throw great light on the court life of the time. mistress; and assuming by quick degrees the office of confidential secretary to the queen, it is easy to understand how petitioners must have felt aware that to address Mrs. Clayton was the surest means of reaching the royal ear. She must have been a kind-hearted woman, tolerant of persevering petitioners, aud willing to help them when she could. Even through the mists of nauseous adulation by which she was assailed, it is easy to discover that many honest disinterested recommendations were given; and that she possessed the rare tact which enabled her to refuse a request graciously. Certainly, from the appointment of the humblest menial, to the promotion of a church dignitary, her good word was sought, and her influence had weight; even a bishop submitted his sermons to Mrs. Clayton before he delivered them, and altered them according to her suggestions. George the Second no doubt fancied himself a despot, but the Queen and Mrs. Clayton really ruled the Court. The deportment of Caroline, however, towards her husband was that of the most marked respect; and later in life, when afflicted with the gout, she was accustomed to take long walks with him as she had formerly done, although obliged to plunge her foot into cold water previously, as the only means of gaining the power of temporary activity! Whether one thinks of a man who could for his own gratification permit such risk and suffering to be incurred by a wife of whom he said, "I never yet saw the woman who was worthy to buckle her shoe," or the resolution with which she concealed the sacrifice she was making, the alternative is equally amazing. Mrs. Howard, afterwards Countess of Suffolk, was the daughter of Sir Henry Hobart, and married early in life the Honourable Charles Howard, the third son of the Earl of Suffolk. The marriage was an unhappy one; the young couple soon found themselves in straitened circumstances, and probably the annoyances which ensued added greatly to their disagreements. Mr. Howard was afflicted with a violent temper, and had a weak mind-a very common association; and as his wife is mentioned even by those little likely to extenuate her faults as amiable and of "unimpeachable veracity," it is fair to return some other verdict than that too commonly pronounced-"faults on both sides." To quote from the Memoirs of Lady Sundon, already named, "Towards the close of Queen Anne's reign the young couple saw no better prospect of advancement than to repair to the court of Hanover, there to ingratiate themselves with the future sovereigns of England. So small was their income, that Mr. Howard being desirous of giving the Hanoverian ministers a dinner, his wife was obliged to cut off her luxuriant hair to pay for the expense of the entertainment. This happened at a time when full-bottomed wigs were worn, and twenty or thirty guineas were often paid for those articles. "The Princess Sophia, mother of George the First, distinguished Mrs. Howard with her favour; but the attractions of the young Englishwoman had no effect upon the dull perceptions of George the Second until his father's accession, when Mrs. Howard was appointed one of the bedchamber-women to Caroline, then Princess of Wales. "The Whig party being in vogue, such of the younger nobility as belonged to it naturally formed the court of Caroline; and the apartment of the bedchamber-woman in waiting became the place of assembly for all the wits and beauties of that faction. * * "In the chamber of Mrs. Howard all was gaiety and thoughtless flirtation at that period. Whilst the Princess Caroline and Mrs. Clayton were discussing theological tenets with a freedom which drew upon them from Swift the odium of being free-thinkers,' Mrs. Howard was perfecting her manners and character to become the complete courtier; and as Swift, perhaps too truly (?) remarked, was succeeding so well in that career that her private virtues, for want of room to operate, might be folded up, and laid up clean, like clothes in a chest, never to be put on till satiety or some reverse of fortune should dispose her to retirement. In the meantime, it will be her prudence to take care that they be not tarnished and moth-eaten, for want of opening, and airing, and turning, at least once a year.' ووو With all due deference, there may be some reasons to demur at this judgment. The simile, though not very witty, may be still less truthful. In the first place, the venomous Dean had a secret and bitter grudge against Mrs. Howard. He had made the mistake of worshipping her as a rising sun; and when too late had discovered that she had not the power to serve him. Certainly, if she were in the relation to George the Second which her enemies insinuate, no "king's favourite," was ever before or since so completely shorn of the influence which usually abides with such an individual. She literally appears to have had the very least power of any lady about the court. Neither is it easy to reconcile Caroline's behaviour towards her; for though the morality and manners of those days are scarcely to be measured by any standard we can raise or imagine, it is not consistent with the queen's character or general behaviour to suppose she would have pertinaciously kept Lady Suffolk about her for years, had she suspected her for a rival in the affection of her faithless husband. Instead of arguing, as some writers have done, that she tolerated the lady, to avoid making way for some younger and more captivating beauty, why not adopt the simpler reading of the storythat she had good reason to know there was no cause for hate, jealousy, or dread, of a woman who seems to have been infinitely too refined and charming to have been in the smallest degree comprehended or appreciated by George the Second? We are all apt at times to reject the truth, because it appears too simple and evident, to have place in an entangled argument. But there is one thing to be remarked, which with different readers may have different degrees of weight. The letters of Lady Suffolk are uplifted from the vulgarity and coarseness of her day immeasurably above those of her contemporaries, and are distinguished by a playful satire, and many marks of good sense and kindness of heart. They go far to make the modern reader feel that probably her true position was that of a woman who had seen and suffered early in life, and who, glad of the certain income and not very arduous duties of her office, was content with freedom from care and their regular routine. Soon after her withdrawal from court, after many years' separation from her husband, and two years' widowhood, she married in 1735, at the age of forty-seven, Mr. George Berkeley, the youngest son of Earl Berkeley, and appears to have enjoyed a happiness in this second union which was something like a compensation for the miseries of her first ill-assorted marriage. The limits of these pages will but admit of a rapid sketch, though the life of Caroline Wilhelmina would supply materials for an interesting, and, in many respects, instructive volume. On the accession of George the Second to the throne, it was her influence which retained Sir Robert Walpole in office. The king had inclined towards Sir Spencer Compton," who, so far from meditating to supplant the premier, had recourse to Sir Robert, and besought him to prepare the draught of the king's speech. The new queen, a better judge than her husband of the capacities of the two candidates, and who had silently watched for a moment proper for overturning the new designations, did not lose a moment in observing to the king how prejudicial it would be to his affairs to prefer to the minister in possession a man in whose own judgment his predecessor was the fittest person to execute his office."" was maintained. Sir Robert did not sit down to table with his royal guest, but " stood behind her chair, and gave her the first plate, and then retired himself to a separate table." Lady Walpole took her seat at table in company with the lady in waiting; but when we call to mind that in those days it was esteemed the indispensable duty of a hostess to carve, the exception in her favour may perhaps be explained! Caroline had been esteemed handsome in her youth; but her beauty was subsequently marred by that pitiless scourge the small-pox, and later in life an exceeding stoutness destroyed the symmetry of her figure. Her hand and arm were greatly admired for their whiteness and beauty of form, and her countenance is reported to have had that best beauty—the beauty of expression. A poet has lauded her smile as celestial." She must have been a good conver sationist, possessing the rare and delicate tact of adapting her discourse to the character and acquirements of those she addressed. At her toi lette "learned men and divines were intermixed with courtiers and ladies of the household, and the conversation turned on metaphysical subjects, blended with repartees, sallies of mirth, and the tittle-tattle of a drawing-room." She corresponded with Leibnitz, and delighted in abstract science, about which and theology she and Mrs. Clayton, it is said, "puzzled" themselves. Caroline was the friend and patroness of many celebrated divines and men of learning. Her intercession saved the life of the unfortu nate Richard Savage, when condemned to death for the life he took in a tavern brawl; and she settled an annuity of fifty pounds upon him, which, however, was withdrawn after her death. This closing scene took place on the 20th of The queen also took another early oppor-November, 1737. The queen had suffered for tunity of declaring her sentiments. Horace Walpole says:-"Their Majesties had removed from Richmond to their temporary residence in Leicester Fields on the very evening of their receiving notice of their accession to the crown; and the next day all the nobility and gentry in town crowded to kiss their hands, my mother among the rest, who, Sir Spencer Compton's designation, and not its evaporation being known, could not make her way between the scornful backs and elbows of her late devotees, nor could approach nearer to the queen than the third or fourth row; but no sooner was she descried by her Majesty, than the queen said aloud, "There I am sure I see a friend! The torrent divided, and shrunk to either side; and as I came away, said my mother, I might have walked over their heads if I had pleased.' It may be that the penetration of Walpole early discovered that influence really lay with the queen, and that he paid his court accordingly; or some more honourable feeling may have originated the cordiality between them. Caroline appears to have taken great pleasure in the society of Sir Robert and Lady Walpole, and frequently dined at their house at Chelsea. On these occasions, however, the rigour of etiquette years from a painful and dangerous disease, un- * See the careful instructions in this accomplishment which were bestowed upon the Lady Mary Wortley Montague. |