human heart, while his own was yearning for an | characteristic of the man, I shall have occasion opportunity of sacrificing his feelings and interest to allude in detail hereafter) had, after twelve or to those of the few who were still dear to him. thirteen years of unbroken intimacy, caused a It has always been my belief that Mathews's whole separation between Mathews and myself for more intellectual life, the life, I mean, of his own secret han four years;-a separation which on my part, bosom, was one continued struggle and contra- had been (I confess) studiously maintained, from diction between the two incompatible theories of a feeling (I must also confess) that I was the party human nature, involved in the feelings I have just to whom by far the greater portion of the blame was referred to; and the result of that struggle was, in lue, in the circumstances which caused our sepathe latter years of his life especially, a morbid ration. But when I learned that he was going to melancholy, that hung upon his life like a blight, America, and that his wife was to accompany and preyed upon and subverted all the sources of him, the presentiment which (as I have said,) his intellectual enjoyment, save only that para rose out of this information, pressed upon me in mount one of seeing and hearing himself greeted a manner not to be resisted; and, after much by assembled thousands, as the purveyor of their hesitation with myself, I wrote a note to Mrs. enjoyment, and feeling, at every burst of mingled Mathews, saying that I should call at their house merriment and applause, which his wonderful on such or such a day, (for I resided in the counperformances occasioned, that he deserved the try,) in the belief that, notwithstanding what had greeting. From a long and careful, because a passed, I should not be refused the gratification of deeply interested observation of this part of taking leave of her at least before they left EngMathews's intellectual character, I am satisfied land. On the last of the days named, I called in that his premature death was greatly hastened, if Great Russell street, having in the interim renot altogether brought about, by his perpetual ceived such a reply to my letter as, knowing the fears and misgivings as to this latter source of party to whom it was addressed, I had looked for intellectual excitement and gratification suddenly the rather that I knew I had no right to expect it. and prematurely failing him; not from any failure I went on the last of the days named by me, and in his own powers, of which he had no fear, but found that Mathews had waited at home to see from a change in the public taste, or a deficiency me till a late hour on that and each of the two or in the materials of his entertainments, or the ad- three preceding days; that he was very anxious vent of some fortunate rival or competitor; from for the meeting; and that there was but one day any cause in short but the only one which could, to intervene between that and their departure. I and ultimately did occasion the failure-namely, of course went to town the next day to see him; a too strong and intense desire for the continu- equally "of course" (for it is my insurmountable ance, and if possible, the increase of the supply, and unpardonable foible,) I was two hours after and the corresponding fear of its cessation. It the time I had been expected; he had left the was this fear and desire united which caused house a few minutes before I reached it, to make the lengthened paroxysm of nervous irritability, the last arrangements for their departure, and I amounting to a condition of mental as well as never saw him again! bodily disease, which invariably preceded the bringing forward of each of his new entertainments. These, by inducing a constant state of nervous excitement, and making it a habit rather than an accident of his bodily and mental condition, gradually undermined his constitution. Finally, they induced his last unhappy voyage to America, and thus became the actual cause of his premature death, the proximate causes of which undoubtedly were, first, the shattering effects of a dreadful voyage out; then the redoubled anxiety as to his reception and success under the temporarily impaired state of his powers and resources at the moment when that success was to be achieved; thirdly, the frightful certainty which soon presented itself, that his constitution had really received a serious blow by this unhappy adventure; and, lastly, after several vain and exhausting attempts to perform with his accustomed vigour and success, his abandonment of the undertaking in despair, and his troublesome and unfavourable passage home. As I have touched on this (to me) most painful portion of my topic, somewhat out of its place, I will (so to speak) relieve my mind of this part of my Recollections of Mathews at once, by alluding to the circumstances attending a sort of presentiment I felt, that his second visit to America would end fatally. I must here state that circumstances (to which, as they are extremely I shall never cease to feel regret at this circumstance; for, in a pretty extensive intercourse with all classes of men, I do not call to mind one whose personal character has excited in me a stronger union of interest and regard than that of the late Charles Mathews. P. From the New Monthly Magazine. WILLIAM COBBETT. BY THE AUTHOR OF "CORN LAW RHYMES." Oh, bear him where the rain can fall, As to the grave ye go! That bees may murmur near, For Britons honour Cobbett's name, See o'er his prostrate branches, see, Improbus labor, which hath my spirit broke : "Deus nobis hæc otia fecit," he adds, after he had retired from his labours in the India-house. Now let the reader, curious in the characteristics of oddity and genius, turn to the essay "On the Superannuated Man" in the second Elia. Hear a little of the old clerk's account of himself shortly after his liberation ;— church-street? mills? Take me that lumber of a desk there, and bowl it down "As low as to the fiends." I am no longer * * ***, clerk to the firm of &c. I am Retired Leisure. I am to be met with in trim gar. dens. I am already come to be known by my vacant face and careless gesture, perambulating at no fixed pace, nor with any settled purpose. I walk about; not to and from. They tell me, a certain cum dignitate air, that has been buried so long with my other good parts, has begun to shoot forth in my person. I grow into gentility perceptibly. When I take up a newspaper, it is to read the state of the Opera. Opus operatum est. I have done all that I came into this world to do. I have worked task-work, and have the rest of the day to myself." Last Essays, p. 101. before you come to the end of the essay, the entire creation stands up alive before you, true in every trick to the life, the life of the fancy. You may not have met exactly such a personage in society, but you see no reason why you should not meet him. You cannot doubt Lamb's own intimate acquaintance with him. Indeed, you Poor Elliston was another of Elia's happiest subjects. Elliston was of the true blood of the humorous, and Lamb has him in enamel, alive and dead. "A fortnight has passed since the date of my first communication. At that period I was approaching to Lamb excelled in drawing what he himself tranquillity, but had not reached it. I boasted of a calm delighted in contemplating-and indeed partly in indeed, but it was comparative only. Something of the being-a veritable Ben Jonsonian humour. The first flutter was left; an unsettling sense of novelty; the extreme delicacy of his touch in such sketches is dazzle to weak eyes of unaccustomed light. I missed my particularly admirable; he very seldom, indeed, old chains, forsooth, as if they had been some necessary part of my apparel. I was a poor Carthusian, from strict slips into caricature; it is rather by bringing out cellular discipline suddenly, by some revolution, returned the otherwise evanescent lines of the character upon the world. I am now, as if I had never been other than by charging the strong ones, that he conthan my own master. It is natural to me to go where I trives to present such beautifully quaint excerpts please, to do what I please. I find myself at eleven from the common mass of humanity. His "Capo'clock in the day in Bond-street, and it seems to me tain Jackson," in the second Elia, is a masterthat I have been sauntering there at that very hour for piece; you have no sense or suspicion of any years past. I digress into Soho, to explore a book-stall. exaggeration; the touches are so slight in themMethinks I have been thirty years a collector. There selves, and each laid on so quietly and unconis nothing strange nor new in it. I find myself before cernedly, that you are scarcely conscious, as you a fine picture in a morning. Was it ever otherwise? What is become of Fish-street Hill? Where is Fen-go on, how the result is growing upon you. Just Stones of old Mincing-lane, which I have worn with my daily pilgrimage for six and thirty years, to the footsteps of what toil-worn clerk are your everlasting flints now vocal? I indent the gayer flags of Pall-Mall. It is 'Change time, and I am strangely among the Elgin marbles. It was no hyperbole when I ventured to compare the change in my condition to a passing into another world. Time stands still in a man-perceive he was a relation. ner to me. I have lost all distinction of season. I do not know the day of the week, or of the month. Each day used to be individually felt by me in its reference to the foreign post-days; in its distance from or propinquity to the next Sunday. I had my Wednesday feelings, my Saturday night's sensations. The genius of each day was upon me distinctly during the whole of it, affecting my appetite, spirits, &c. The phantom of the next day, with the dreary five to follow, sat as a load upon my poor Sabbath recreations. What charm has washed that Ethiop white? What is gone of Black Monday? All days are the same. Sunday itself, that unfortunate failure of a holiday as it too often proved, what with my sense of fugitiveness, and over care to get the greatest quantity out of it, is melted down into a week day. I can spare to go to church now, without grudging the huge cantle which it used to seem to cut out of the holiday. I have time for every thing. I can visit a sick friend. I can interrupt the man of much occupation when he is busied. I can insult over him with an in-censorial severity which would have crushed the convitation to take a day's pleasure with me to Windsor this fidence of a Vestris, and disarmed that beautiful rebel fine May morning. It is Lucretian pleasure to behold herself of her professional caprices; I verily believe he the poor drudges whom I have left behind in the world, thought her standing before him: "how dare you, carking and caring; like horses in a mill, drudging on madam, withdraw yourself without a notice from your in the same eternal round: and what is it all for? A theatrical duties ?" "I was hissed, sir." "And you man can never have too much time to himself, nor too have the presumption to decide upon the taste of the little to do. Had I a little son, I would christen him town?" "I don't know that, sir, but I will never stand Nothing-to-do; he should do nothing. Man, I verily bc- to be hissed;" was the subjoinder of young confidence: ieve, is out of his element as long as he is operative. I when, gathering up his features into one significant mass m altogether for the life contemplative. Will no kindly of wonder, pity, and expostulatory indignation, (în a rthquake come and swallow up those accursed cotton-lesson never to have been lost upon a creature less for "Oh, it was a rich scene that I was witness to, in the tarnished room (that had once been green) of that same little Olympic. There, after his deposition from Imperial Drury, he substituted a throne. The Olympic Hill was " his highest heaven;" himself "Jove in his chair." There he sat in state, while before him, on complaint of prompter, was brought for judgment: how shall I describe her? one of those little tawdry things that flirt at the tails of choruses: a probationer for the town, in either of its senses, the pertest little drab, a dirty fringe and appendage of the lamps' smoke; who, it seems, on some disapprobation expressed by a "highly respectable" audience, had precipitately quitted her station on the boards, and withdrawn her small talents in disgust. "And how dare you," said her manager, assuming a ward than she who stood before him; his words were these, "They have hissed ME." "Quite an Opera pit,' he said to me, as he was courteously conducting me over the benches of his Surry Theatre, the last retreat and recess of his every-day waning grandeur. .... a smile, or recognised but as the usher of mirth; that looked cut so formally flat in Foppington, so frothily pert in Tattle, so impotently busy in Backbite, so blankly divested of all meaning, or resolutely expressive of none, in Acres, in Fribble, and a thousand agreeable impertinences? Was this the face, full of thought and careful. "In green rooms, impervious to mortal eye, the museness, that had so often divested itself at ill of every trace beholds thee wielding posthumous empire. "Thin ghosts of figurantes (never plump on earth) circle thee endlessly, and still their song is Fye on silent phantasy. "Magnificent were thy capriccios on this globe of earth, ROBERT WILLIAM ELLISTON! for as yet we know not thy new name in heaven. "It irks me to think that, stript of thy regalities, thou shouldst ferry over, a poor forked shade, in crazy Stygian wherry. Methinks I hear the old boatman, paddling by the weedy wharf, with raucid voice, bawling "SCULLS! SCULLS!'-to which, with waving hand and majestic action, thou deignest no reply, other than two curt monosyllables, 'No; OARS!' remainder. of either, to give me diversion, to clear my cloudy face Let us conclude with a few just and graceful words about an actor of a very different order :"No man could deliver brilliant dialogue, the dialogue of Congreve or of Wycherley, because none understood it, half so well as John Kemble. His Valentine, in Love for Love, was, to my recollection, faultless. He flagged sometimes in the intervals of tragic passion. He would slumber over the level parts of an heroic character. His Macbeth has been known to nod. But he always seemed to me to be particularly alive to pointed and witty dialogue. The relaxing levities of tragedy have not been in which he condescended to the players in Hamlet, the touched by any since him, the playful court-bred spirit "In expressing slowness of apprehension, Dodd surpassed all others. You could see the first dawn of an idea stealing slowly over his countenance, climbing up by little and little, with a painful process, till it cleared up at last to the fulness of a twilight conception-its highest meridian. He seemed to keep back his intellect, as some have had the power to retard their pulsation. The balloon takes less time in filling than it took to cover the expansion of his broad moony face over all its quarters with expression. A glimmer of understanding would appear in a corner of his eye, and for lack of fuel go out again. A part of his forehead would catch a little intelligence, and be a long time in communicating it to the “I am ill at dates, but I think it is now better than five and twenty years ago that, walking in the gardens of Gray's Inn-they were then far finer than they are now the accursed Verulam Buildings had not encroach-sportive relief which he threw into the darker shades of ed upon all the east side of them, cutting out delicate moods, his torpors; but they were the halting-stones and Richard, disappeared with him. He had his sluggish green crankles, and shouldering away one or two of the resting-place of his tragedy; politic savings, and fetches stately alcoves of the terrace-the survivor stands gaping of the breath; husbandry of the lungs, where nature and relationless, as if it remembered its brother; they are still the best gardens of any of the Inns of Court, my be-pointed him to be an economist; rather, I think, than loved Temple not forgotten-have the gravest character, ful than the eternal tormenting unappeasable vigilance, errors of the judgment. They were, at worst, less paintheir aspect being altogether reverend and law-breathing; the lidless dragon eyes,' of present fashionable tragedy." Bacon has left the impress of his foot on their gravel-Elia, p. 336. walks. Taking my afternoon solace on a summer-day upon the aforesaid terrace, a comely sad personage came towards me, whom, from his grave air and deportment, 1 judged to be one of the benchers of the Inn. He had a serious, thoughtful forehead, and seemed to be in meditations of mortality. As I have an instinctive awe of old benchers, I was passing him with that sort of subindicative token of respect which one is apt to demonstrate towards a venerable stranger, and which rather denotes an inclination to greet him, than any positive motion of the body to that effect, a species of humility and will-worship which, I observe, nine times out of ten, rather puzzles than pleases the person it is offered to-when the face, turning full upon me, strangely identified itself with that of Dodd. Upon close inspection I was not mistaken. But could this sad, thoughtful countenance be the same vacant face of folly which I had hailed so often under circumstances of gaiety; which I had never seen without Many of Lamb's best essays were worked up from letters written by him to his friends. The Superannuated Man was a letter, if we mistake *" Dodd was a man of reading, and left at his death a choice collection of old English literature. I should judge him to have been a man of wit. I know one instance of an impromptu which no length of study could have bettered. My merry friend, Jem White, had seen him one evening in Aguecheek, and recognising Dodd the next day in Fleet street, was irresistibly impelled to take off his hat, and salute him as the identical knight of the preceding evening with a 'Save you, Sir Andrew Dodd, not at all disconcerted at this unusual address f a stranger, with a courteous half-rebuking wave of hand, put him off with an 'Away, fool!" not, to Mr. Wordsworth. The Two Races of Men, the Dissertation on Roast Pig, and one or two others, were letters. Sometimes he bettered From the London Metropolitan. DIARY OF A BLASE. the original thought-sometimes a little overlaid BY THE AUTHOR OF "PETER SIMPLE," "JACOB FAITHFUL,” it (as in the essay on Munden's acting)-and sometimes letters, not otherwise used by him, are as good as his printed efforts. We heartily hope that the enterprising publisher of his later works, and who has a peculiar interest in Lamb's fame, will give us as good a collection of these letters as can with propriety be made known to the world: they would constitute, at least, one charming additional volume to his friend's writings. One word more. We have no vocation to speak beyond an author's merits; but there are passages in Lamb's works which may cause surmises which would be most unjust as well as injurious to his memory. No man knew Lamb so thoroughly well as his schoolfellow and life-long friend, Coleridge; and it is of Lamb no question, that Mr. C. was speaking, when he said that "that gentle creature looked upon the degraded men and things around him like moonshine on a dunghill, which shines and takes no pollution." Elia himself confesses that some of his intimados were a ragged regiment. We can add, that, upon another occasion, when Mr. C. entered into an eloquent and affectionate analysis of Lamb's mind and character, he said,— "Believe me, no one is competent to judge of poor dear Charles, who has not known him long and well as I have done. His heart is as whole as his head. The wild words which sometimes come from him on religious subjects might startle you from the mouth of any other man; but in him they are mere flashes of firework. If an argument seems to him not fully true, he will burst out in that odd way; yet his will, the inward man, is, I well know, profoundly religious and devout. Catch him when alone, and the great odds are, you will find him with a bible or an old divine before him, or may be, and that is next door in excellence, an old English poet: in such is his pleasure." From Blackwood's Magazine. SABBATH SONNET. "THE ADVENTURES OF JAPHET," &c. (Continued from p. 312.) CHAPTER VII. Antwerp. Every one has heard of the cathedral at Antwerp and the fine pictures by Rubens-every one has heard of the siege of Antwerp and General Chassé, and how the French marched an army of non-intervention down to the citadel and took it from the Dutch-and every one has heard how Lord Palmerston protocol-ed while Marand bombast. The name of Lord Palmerston reminds me that conversing after dinner with some Belgians, the topic introduced was the great dearth of diplomatic talent in a country like England, where talent was in every other department so extremely prominent. It was not the first time that this subject had been canvassed in my presence by foreigners. Naturally envious of our general superiority, it is with them a favourite mode of attack; and they are right, as it certainly is our weakest point: they cannot disparage our army, or our navy, or our constitution; but they can our climate, which is not our fault fault, and has too often proved our misfortune also. but our misfortune; and our diplomacy, which is our shal Gerard bombard-ed-and how it was all bombard very inferior, and this can arise but from one cause; the It certainly is the fact, that our diplomatic corps are emoluments which have been attached to it having rendered admission into it an advantage eagerly sought by the higher classes as a provision for the junior branches of their families. Of course, this provision has been granted to those to whom government have felt most indebted for support, without the least regard to the im portant point as to whether those who were admitted were qualified or not; so that the mere providing for a younger son of an adherent to the government may have proved in the end to have cost the country millions from his incompetence when placed in a situation requiring tact and discrimination. This evil is increased by the system of filling up the vacant appointinents according to seniority-the exploded and absurd custom of " each second being true unto the first." Should any man have proved, upon an emergency, that he was possessed of the highest talent of diplomacy, it will avail him nothinghe never, under the present system, will be employedhe cannot be admitted into the corps without having entered as a private secretary or attaché. It would be monstrous, unheard of; and the very idea would throw Lord Aberdeen on the one side, or Lord Palmerston on COMPOSED BY MRS. HEMANS A FEW DAYS BEFORE HER DEATH, the other, into convulsions. Is it therefore to be won AND DEDICATED TO HIER BROTHER. How many blessed groups this hour are bending Pour their fair children forth; and hamlets low, * Table Talk. dered at our being so disgraced by the majority of our diplomatic corps? Surely if any point more than another requires revision and reform it is this-and the nation has a right to insist upon it. Ambassadors, and, were it possible, the whole of the corps diplomatique, should be under the control and the choice of the parliament. It may be asked, what are the most peculiar qualities necessary in a diplomatist, taking it for granted that he has talents, education, and a thorough knowledge of the routine of business? The only term which we can give to this desideratum is presence of mind-not the presence of mind required in danger, but that presence of MIND which enables him, when a proposition is made, at once to seize all its bearings, the direction to which it tends, and the ultimate object (for that will always be concealed at first) which the proposer may have in view. Diplomatists, when they enter the field, are much in the situation of two parties, one defending and the other attacking a stronghold. Admissions are highly dangerous, Moreover, there is still endless variety, endless amusement, and food for study and contemplation, in human nature. In all countries still the same, yet ever varying. "The proper study of mankind is man." as they enable the adversary to throw up his first paral- | sons, and the comparison drawn between the object belels; and too often, when you imagine that the enemy is fore my eyes, and that in my mind's eye, is unfortunately not one jot advanced, you find that he has worked through usually in favour of the latter. He who hath visited so a covered way, and you are summoned to surrender. It many climes, mingled with so many nations, attempted is strange that, at the very time that they assert that it so many languages, and who has hardly any thing left would be impossible to employ those as diplomatists who but the North Pole or the crater of Vesuvius to choose have not been regularly trained to the service, captains between; if he still longs for something new, may well in the navy are continually so employed, and often under cavil at the pleasures of memory as a mere song. In circumstances of vital importance. Now it would be proportion as the memory is retentive, so is decreased supposed that of all people they must be the most unfit; one of the greatest charms of existence-novelty. To as, generally speaking, they are sent to sea, as unfit for him who hath seen much, there is little left but comany thing else. But it appears that once commanding a parison, and are not comparisons universally odious? Not frigate, they are supposed to be fit for every thing. A that I complain, for I have a resource--I can fly to vessel is ordered for “particular service," why so called imagination-quit this every-day world, and in the reI know not, except that there may be an elision, and it gion of fiction create new scenes and changes, and peomeans "particularly disagreeable service." The captain ple these with new beings. is directed by the admiralty to consider himself under the orders of the foreign office, and he receives a huge pile of documents, numbered, scheduled, and red-taped, (as Bulwer says in his pamphlet,) the contents of which he is informed are to serve as a guide for his proceedings. He reads them over with all their verbiage and technicalities, sighs for Cobbett's pure Saxon, and when he has finished, feels not a little puzzled. Document No. 4 contradicting document No. 12, and document No. 1 opposed to No. 56; that is, as he reads and understands English. Determined to understand them if possible, he takes a dose of protocol every morning, until he has nearly learnt them by heart, and then acts to the best of his knowledge and belief. And it is undeniable that, with very few exceptions, the navy have invariably given satisfaction to the foreign office when they have been so employed, and often under circumstances of peculiar difficulty. I have heard, from the best authority, that military men have been equally successful, although they have not so often been called into "particular service." By the by, particular service is all done at the same price as general service in his majesty's navy, which is rather unfair, as we are obliged to find our own red tape, pens, ink, and stationery. As I was walking on the glacis with a friend, he pointed out to me at a window an enormous fat man smoking his pipe, and told me that he had been in the Dutch service under William of Orange; but not being a very good hand at a forced march, he had been reduced with others to half pay. He had not been many months in retirement when he went to the palace and requested an audience of his majesty, and, when admitted, stated that he had come to request that his majesty would be pleased to put him again upon full pay. His majesty raised many objections, and stated his inability to comply with the request; upon which the corpulent officer exclaimed, embracing with his arms as far as he could his enormous paunch, "My God! your majesty, how can you imagine that I can fill this big belly of mine with only my half pay?" This argumentum ad ventrem so tickled King William, that he was put on full pay unattached, and has continued so ever since. The first instance I ever heard of a man successfully pleading his belly. The chef-d'œuvres of Rubens I had seen before; I was, however, very much pleased with the works of a modern painter, a Mr. Wappers. The first picture which established his reputation was the Burgomaster of Leydenit is certainly a fine piece of colouring; but it is far eclipsed by the one he has nearly finished-the 30th of August at Brussels. It is an enormous piece of canvass, I think twenty-six feet by eighteen ; and it is, in my opinion, the very finest historical painting which has been produced in modern times. Had I seen nothing else I should have been quite satisfied with my journey to Antwerp. It is so hard for a Blasé like me to find out any thing new or interesting. I have travelled too much and have seen too much-Ỉ seldom now admire. I draw compari From which, I presume, we are to infer that it is time thrown away to attempt to study woman. At the same party in which the conversation was raised relative to diplomacy, a person with whom I was, until that day, wholly unacquainted, was sitting by me, and as it happened, the name of one with whom I had long been on terms of intimacy was mentioned. "Do you know him?" said my neighbour, with a very peculiar expression. I replied that I had occasionally met him, for I thought there was something coming forward. "Well, all I can say is, that he is rather a strange person." 66 Indeed," replied I; "how do you mean?" "Why, they say, that he is of a very uncertain temper." "Indeed," continued I with the same look of enquiry, as if demanding more information. "Yes, yes, rather a dangerous man." "Do you know him?" enquired I, in return. Yes; that is to say-not very intimately-the fact is, that I have avoided it. I grant that he is a very clever man—but I hear that he quarrels with every body." "Who told you so?" replied I. O! he was not authorised to give the name of the person. Indeed, if he did name, it must― "Then," replied I, "allow me to say that you have been misinformed. I have been on intimate terms with that person for nearly twenty years, during which he never quarreled with me or any one that I know of; although, I grant, he is not over civil to those whom he may despise. The only part of your communication which is correct is, that he is a very clever man, and our government are of the same opinion." My neighbour was discomfited, and said no more, and I joined the general conversation. What may have been his cause of dislike I know not-but I have frequently remarked, that if a man has made himself enemies either from neglect of that sophistry and humbug so necessary to enable him to roll down the stream of time with his fellows without attrition, if they can find no point in his character to assail, their last resort is, to assert that he is an uncertain tempered man, and not to be trusted. This is the last, and although not the most empoisoned, still the surest shaft in the whole quiver of calumny. It does not exactly injure the character, but it induces others to avoid the acquaintance of the party so misrepresented. It is rather singular, and perhaps I may have been fortunate, but in more than half a dozen instances I have found the very parties to whom this character has been given, although high-minded and high-spirited, the very antithesis to the character which has been assigned them. That some do deserve the character is undoubted-but there is no species of calumny to be received with su |