SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

ISTOGRAPIIY.

Life and Literary Remains of L. E. L. By Lamau Blanchard. In 2 vols....Co/bens. "Tasvaxa,

Sketches of China ; partly during an Inland Journey of Four Months, between Peking, Nanking, and Canton : with Notices and Observations relative to the pre- sent War. By John Francis Davis, Esq., F.R.S., Re., late his Majesty's Chief

Superintendent in China Knight and Co.

MEDICINE.

On Gout : its Cause, Nature, and Treatment. By John Parkin, Member of the Royal

College of Surgeons, Re. Re Batchard and Sea. Poirnati. Ecosrour,

The Revenue; or What should the Chancellor Do ? By James Wilson, Esq., Author of •• Influences of the Corn-laws. Fluctuations of Currency," Re. Hooper.

Statements illustrative of the Policy and probable Consequences of the proposed Repeal of the existing Corn-laws and the Imposition in their stead of a moderate Fixed Duty on Foreign Corn when entered for consnmptiou..... Longman and Co. Extracts from the Report of the Commissioners appointed to Inquire into the Con- ditiou of the Hand-loom Weavers. Reprinted for the use of the Working-men of Northampton, by Raikes Currie T and IV. Boone.

BLANCHARD'S LIFE OF L. E. L.

THESE volumes have been looked for with curiosity in the literary world, from the circumstances attending the untimely death of their subject, and some intimation that she had constituted Lemax BLANCHARD her vindicator and biographer. Nor will they dis- appoint expectation. The general reader will find a pleasant and readable narrative of Miss LANDON'S life, agreeably varied with anecdotes, and many little self-exhibited traits in well- chosen extracts from her correspondence ; whilst the estimate both of her personal and literary character is more impartial than might be expected from an intimate friend. Those who had heard of the slanderous reports spread against Miss LANDON at various times— of the fact that one match had been broken off in consequence of them, and the surmise that she had from disappointment rushed

into another—and those whose imaginations had " supped full of horrors" respecting the mystery of her singular death, will have their longings fed, if not satiated. But the critical reader will pro- nounce the book deficient in closeness and matter ; and wanting, as a biography, in coherence and particularity, as if the writer were occasionally rather gliding over surfaces than fathoming depths. If the reader should also be accustomed to analysis and to the investigation of evidence, he may detect such a nervous anxiety to be fair to every party, as leads to favour towards the undeserving, and such an odd disposition to do justice to all, as hardly permits of plain justice to any. The events in the earlier life of LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON are not many, or, except in a literary point of view, distinguished from those of the generality of people. Her father at one time was a man of some property ; but injudicious speculations crippled his means, and induced him to retire from London during the childhood of his daughter. This daughter had given early indica- tions of a poetical genius—" She lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came" ; and though her school-education was not above the average of young ladies, the quickness of her mind supplied any deficiency of teaching, whilst a wide course of stolen desultory reading ex- tended her information and multiplied her images. During this period of childhood and early youth the poetical faculty was grow- ing up within her. She invented stories, travels, and Robinson- Crusoe-like adventures, which she related to her family, and espe- cially to her brother ; a bargain being struck between them, that one day should be devoted by her to his sports and another to his listening, though he was soon obliged to curtail the time that tasked his ears. Mr. BLANCHARD attributes perhaps more than enough to this youthful faculty of improvising : we suspect it exists in most young minds that are at once studious and imaginative—a part but not a proof of the future poet. In 1815, when LETITIA was about fourteen, Mr. LANDON went to reside at Brompton : Mr. JERDAN was a near neighbour, and to him an introduction was sought, apparently with the view of pro- curing a judgment on her poetical powers. His opinion having been favourable, and his recommendations followed, some of her productions appeared in the Literary Gazette ; and from that time forth her literary career was marked by successive and well-known publications.

Of her domestic life from this period the notices are not so full, at least not so satisfying, as those of her childhood. After her father's death, although her mother was living, she seems to have boarded by herself among strangers, without any other reason than some fancy for a particular locality. The details of her daily life, though not passed over, are sometimes huddled up without distinctness ; and of particular events we hear little, per- haps because there was little to tell ; but, strictly speaking, many parts of Mr. BLANCHARD'S book are rather a notice than a life. This remark does not apply to her childhood, marriage, and death; which are exhibited with fulness and distinctness.

From the first period we will take a few anecdotes or distinctive traits.

L. E. L. LEARNING TO READ.

She was taught to read by an invalid friend and neighboue; who amused her- self by scattering the letters of the alphabet over the carpet, and making her little pupil pick them up as they were named. The principle of rewards was adopted solely; and these rewards, as they were won, were as regularly brought to her brother. That living relative, who was her only playmate and companion, relates, in a letter from which we write, " If she came home with- out a reward, she went up stairs with her nurse, of whom she was particularly fond, to be comforted; but when she brought her reward with her, she never failed to display it in the drawing-room, and then share it with me. She must," he adds, "have been very quick at that early age, for she seldom came empty-handed; and I soon began to look for the hour of her return, for which I had such very good reasons."

YOUTHFUL MEMORY AND IMAGINATION.

When the young student was scarcely seven years old, the family removed to Trevor Park, East Barnet; where the care of her instruction was undertaken by her cousin, Miss Landon; whose zeal and guidance were repaid with the most constant acknowledgment of her worth. Some passages of a letter from

is lady, in which she recalls the hours long past that were beneficially de- vood to the interests of her charge, will happily exhibit the spirit of the modest and admiring teacher, while they strikingly exemplify the progress and cha- racter of the pupil. "In very many instances," says the writer, "in endea- vouring to teach, I have myself been taught ; the extraordinary memory and genius of the learner soon leaving the humble abilities of the teacher far behind. Any experienced person used to instruction would have smiled at hearing us. When I asked Letitia any question relating either to history, geography, gram- mar, to Plutarch's Lives, or to any book we had been reading, I was pretty certain her answers would be perfectly correct ; still, not exactly recollecting, and unwilling she should find out just then that I was less learned than her- self, I used thus to question her—' Are you quite certain ?" Oh yes, quite !' I You feel sure you are correct ? " Yes, very sure.' Well, then, to be per- fectly right, bring the book, and let us look over it again.' I never knew her s to be wrong. • * At so early an age as this, she would occupy an hour or two of the evening amusing her father and mother with accounts of the wonderful castles she had built in her imagination ; and when rambling in the garden in fair weather, she had taken with her, as a companion, a long stick., which she called her measuring-stick, she was asked, what that was for ? ' her answer would be, ' Oh, don't speak to me; I have such a delightful thought in my head ! ' And on she would go, talking to herself. There was a little world of happiness within her; and even then the genius afterwards developed was constantly struggling to break forth."

CAPACITY SAVE FOR MUSIC AND PENMANSHIP.

Her capacity for acquiring knowledge was remarkable. The two masters from whom she received French lessons found the task of instructing her a new kind of pleasure : not only were her exercises always ready and correct, but she seemed to meet her teachers half-way, and if told one word, knew another as though by intuition. Yet it must be admitted, that to the rule "whatever she attempted she thoroughly mastered," there were two exceptions : the fu- ture poetess excelled neither in music, of which she, nevertheless, understood the very soul, nor in an art which throughout her life she incessantly practised— penmanship. Her cousin states that, " Although Letitia's kind and accom- plished friend Miss Bissett spared no pains during several years to impart the same brilliant touch and execution she herself possessed, the attempt to make her proficient in music was vain. Yet," she adds, "music seemed to charm and inspire ter ; for hours she would sit writing upon her slate while any one played or sang." As for her proficiency in penmanship, her brother graphically pic- tures the fruitless effort. " Learning to write,' he says, " was a source of ex- treme trouble to her. A kind old gentleman who witnessed this distress, and who never believed that any fault whatever rested with her, undertook to teach her himself. And the copy-book was ruled, and his spectacles were rubbed, and his knife prepared to make the best pen possible ; but it would not do : a broad nib and a fine nib, a hard pen and a soft pen, all failed, for in each case it was still a pen. At last he gave the task up in despair : he shook his head mournfully, and said, ' No, your dear little fingers are too straight' • gave her a forgiving kiss, told her she was a dab at pothooks,' took up his hat, walked out, and never renewed his attempt."

Her industry, or rather perhaps her activity, was remarkable in youth, and continued throughout her life. She seems to have been always reading, writing, or pouring herself out in talk. Besides her poetry and avowed prose, and daily or hourly correspondence, she was an extensive reviewer.

" The volumes published in her name formed but an inconsiderable portion of what she actually wrote. To the Literary Gazette she still continued a frequent contributor of poetical fragments; but her writings were far from being confined to those columns in which the initials of the poet were regularly sought. In the lighter departments of criticism, she was, week by week, a de- voted labourer ; and many are the authors, young and old, poets, novelists, dramatists, travellers, and reminiscence-mongers, who owe the first generous words of encouragement, or the cordial renewal of former welcomes, to her glowing and versatile pen. Written generally to suit the occasion merely, it is not thought worth while to make reference to these criticisms in detail; but it is due to L. E. L. to say, that were her opinions upon books and authors, whe- ther expressed in this or any other publication, impartially extracted and col- lected in volumes, there would be seen in them the results of great miscella- neous reading, research in more than one foreign language, acuteness and bril- liancy of remark ; with, it is true, much hastiness of judgment, many preju- diced and inconclusive views, frequent wildness of assertion, but without one un- generous or vindictive sentiment, one trace of an unkindly or interested feeling."

This fatal facility explains much of the sameness and want of reality that distinguished the majority of the works of L. E. L. Writing of any kind is only valuable and permanent as it repre- sents the real—something material or mental, something which exists or has existed actually or in belief.* But a person who began so very early to pour forth unpremeditated verse, without op- portunity for observation or time for thought, could do little more than embody fancids, as airy but as unsubstantial as our dreams.

Questions relating to Miss LANDON'S studies, or the cha- racter of her genius, will not, however, be the most popular part of this biography ; but the slander that was connected with her name, or the still more exciting mystery of her death. Upon these points Mr. BLANCHARD exhibits no absurd squeamishness or delicacy ; but there is a want of directness, as if he avoided grappling with the subject. We will present as succinct an account of the matter as we can : and first let this be said for the world, that the manner of Miss LANDON, whether natural or affected, was one to give countenance to any report when once afoot, if not to cause it, seen, as she must often have been by total strangers when lionizing in blue assemblies.

"Unfortunately," says Mr. BLANCHARD, " the very unguardedness of her in- nocence served to arm even the feeblest malice with powerful stings ; the openness of her nature and the frankness of her manners furnished the silly or the ill-natured with abundant materials for gossip. She was always as careless as a child of set forms and rules for conduct. She had no thought, no concern • If this should be deemed heterodox criticism, as excluding supernatural creations, let the reader look to Macbeth, where he will find every thing de- scribed in exact accordance with the popular belief in the power of witches. A very striking example of it may be read in the incantation-scene, in which the conjuration of Macbeth limits the hags to the general power, and that only, which they were supposed to have over the elements. A. similar remark may be extended to the ancient mythology : it is tedious to modern readers, not merely because it has ceased to be a belief, but because we cannot fully un- derstand the life or reality of that belief. about the interpretation that was likely to be put upon her words by at least one out of a score of listeners; it was enough for her that she meant no harm, and that the friends she most valued knew this: perhaps she found a wilful and most dangerous pleasure, sometimes, in making the starers stare yet more widely. She defied suspicion. But to induce her to condescend to be on her guard, to put the slightest restraint upon her speech, correspondence, or actions, simply be- cause self-interest demanded it to save her conduct from misrepresentation, was a task which, so far from any one being able to accomplish, few would, without deliberation, venture to attempt ; so quick were her feelings, so lofty her woman's pride, and so keen and all-sufficing her consciousness of right."

And again-

" It must be owned that her own injudiciousness still exposed her to attacks; and that to persons of an irritable or over-credulous temper she might easily become an object of suspicion and aversion, especially to her own sex. Her warmth of heart, her exuberance of gratitude even on trivial occasions of ser- vice, her buoyant spirits, her recklessness as to consequences, and her stubborn indifference to opinion, were still, as before, her great enemies that created ene- mies; and when writing to authors whom she had known and confided in for years, and in whom differences of age and the long-worn honours of the married lot might have sufficed to guard her from all misapprehension, she was some- times apt to lay aside the formalities of respect due to middle-aged has- bands and the reverence that belongs to the father of a numerous family." The consequence of this manner, or, as her friends assert, envy of her success and the rage of disappointed authorship, was the circulation of a very derogatory report, which was current all over London, and formed a topic of common discourse in 1826 ; as some of our readers doubtless remember. Mrs. Tnomson, the wife of Dr. ANTONY TODD THOMSON, undertook the unpleasant task of writing to Miss LANDON upon the subject, and advising greater caution : to whom she addressed this autobiographical reply- " As to the report you named, I know not which is greatest, the absurdity or the malice. Circumstances have made me very much indebted to the gen- tleman [whose name was coupled with hers] for much kindness. I have not bad a friend in the world but himself to manage any thing of business whether literary or pecuniary. Your own literary pursuits must have taught you how little, in them, a young woman can do without assistance. Place yourself in my situation. Could you have hunted London for a publisher, endured all the alternate hot and cold water thrown on your exertions; bargained for what sum they might be pleased to give ; and, after all, canvassed, examined, nay quarrelled over accounts the most intricate in the world ? And again, after suc- cess bad procured money, what was I do with it ? Though ignorant of business, I must know I could not lock it up in a box. Then, for literary assistance, my proof-sheets could not go through the press without revision. Who was to un- dertake this—I can only call it drudgery—but some one to whom my literiuy exertions could in return be as valuable as theirs to me ? But it is not on this ground that I express my surprise at so cruel a calumny, but actually on that of our slight intercourse. He is in the habit of frequently calling on his way into town; and unless it is on a Sunday afternoon, which is almost his only leisure time for looking over letters, manuscripts, &c. five or ten minutes is the usual time of his visit. We visit in such different circles, that if I except the evening he took Agnes and myself to Miss B —'s, I cannot recall our ever meeting in any one of the round of winter-parties. The more I think of my past life and of my future prospects, the more dreary do they seem. I have known little else than privation, disappointment, unkindness, and harassment : from the time I was fifteen, my life has been one continual struggle in some shape or another against absolute poverty; and I must say, not a tithe of my profits have I ever expended on myself. And here I cannot but allude to the remarks on my dress. It is easy for those whose only trouble on that head is change, to find fault with one who never in her life knew what it was to have two new dresses at a time. No one knows but myself what I have to contend with—but this is what I have no right to trouble you with."

Upon this Mr. BLANCHARD comments thus- " These were her real feelings expressed to a real friend. Her acquaintances knew nothing of them-' the world saw no change in her ; for in no one respect could she be persuaded to put a curb upon her high spirit, to substitute reflec- tion for impulse, or to set a guard over the free expression of her thoughts and opinions. She could not, however, at this time, surmise the whole baseness of the scandal. The knowledge of it was reserved for after years ; when, her life and manners continuing what they had ever been, but the evil report never utterly silenced, it was discovered that a silent disdain of calumny is not always the best wisdom in the slandered, nor a reliance upon time and innocence for justice the truest delicacy in an adviser. It was L. E. L.'s fate to suffer deeply during many after years of her life, from her own high-minded indifference to false reports, and her resolution to wear no false manner at any time. How pitiful and base, if a shadow were to be cast on the name she has left, or her character were still exposed to the slightest misconception, by any false delicacy to the living, or any flinching from the truth, however painful, on the part of one whom she had in solemn terms charged with the task of recording the successes and sorrows of her life. It is therefore that the writer feels it to be a duty thus to advert to the slander, and thus to record the reply. "How deep was the shock her feelings sustained, her own words show. It would be in vain, perhaps, to speculate upon the duration of that bitterness and gloom which pervade the above transcript of her feelings; but the evil effect was certainly not of brief continuance ; and perhaps from this time her real sentiments towards society, and her philosophical speculations on life, whether expressed in her correspondence or conversation, partook far more of the mor- bid, despairing, and desolate tone of her poetry, than before."

The manifest untruth of the tale, and its contemptuous disregard by the object of it, caused the story to die away, and all belief in it as regards the public to cease ; at least such is our impression. Time wore on : Miss LANDON became acquainted with a " gentleman," whom Mr. BLANCHARD does not name ; and an engagement took place between them,—for though Mr. BLANCHARD talks of "rumours," and " guesses," and" conjectures" of friends, it is quite clear that there was an express betrothal. This part of the life is rather slurred over ; but it seems the scandal was again revived, though it was much less general, we think, than in 1826: an investi- gation was deemed necessary ; but as there was nothing tangible to fix upon, it ended in nothing tangible, except a perfect conviction in the minds of the inquirers " that the falsehood was as vile as its fabrication was obscure." An interesting letter of the lady herself, and some comments of her biographer, characterized by a feeling of justifiable indignation, we pass over ; but here is the denouement of the affair.

"It should be particularly marked, that the correspondence on this subject was not intended to bean inquiry into the truth of the accusation ; that, so far from being deemed necessary by the parties to it, by any of her friends—more especially by that friend to whom she was then matrimonially contracted— would have been deemed by them all degrading to the last degree. There was never for an instant a shadow of suspicion upon their minds. Nothing they did in doubt, but all in honour. The sole object was to trace the false accuser and drag him forward. This failing, the sense of falsehood remained as strong as before : stronger it could not be, or it would have been strengthened by the result of the steps that had been taken for the detection of the calumniator. " What should follow, then, but the fulfilment of the marriage-contract? As there was not the slightest scruple previously, on his own account, in the mind of the other party to that contract, so not the slightest scruple remained now as an impediment. The bare existence of such a scruple would, of course, have been fatal to her peace and happiness. There was none affecting her honour in the remotest degree. Yet the contract was broken off by her. However strong and deep the sentiment with which she had entered into it, she had the un- flinching resolution to resist its promptings ; and in the spirit of the communi- cation at this period between her and the gentleman to whom she was engaged, it is not difficult to perceive that the same high-minded feeling on both sides, the same nice sense of honour, and the same stubborn yet delicate pride (nei- ther, perhaps, discerning in the other the exact qualities that governed the conduct of both) so operated as to dictate a present sacrifice of affection, and the avoidance of a contract under the circumstances which had so controlled the parties to it.

" The severity of the shock she underwent, and the extent of the self-sacri- fice she deemed herself called upon by duty to make, may be inferred from the following letter addressed to him, with whom the contemplated union had now, she felt, become impossible. The handwriting gives painful evidence of the agitation of mind and weakness of body amidst which it was composed. Its insertion is permitted here, at the request of her surviving relative and of the writer to whom she confided the trust of doing justice to her memory. It must be received as the only explanation that can be offered of the feelings by which she was animated, and of the grounds on which she decided.

" ' I have already written to you two notes, which I fear you could scarcely read or understand. I am today sitting up for an hour ; and though strictly forbidden to write, it will be the least evil. I wish I could send you my inmost soul to read, for I feel at this moment the utter powerlessness of words. I have suffered for the last three days a degree of torture that made Dr. Thom- son say—" You have an idea of what the rack is now." It was nothing to what I suffered from my own feelings. I look back on my whole life; 1 can find nothing to justify my being the object of such pain—but this is not what I meant to say. Again I repeat, that I will not allow you to consider your- self bound to me by any possible tie. To any friend to whom you may have stated our engagement I cannot object to your stating the truth. Do every justice to your own kind and generous conduct. I am placed in a most cruel and difficult position. Give me the satisfaction of, as far as rests with myself, having nothing to reproach myself with. The more I think, the more I feel I ought not—I cannot—allow you to unite yourself with one accused of—I cannot write it. The mere suspicion is dreadful as death. Were it stated as a fact, that might be disproved ; were it a difficulty of any other kind, I might say, look back at every action of my life, ask every friend I have : but what answer can I give, or what security have I against the asser- tion of a man's vanity or the slander of a vulgar woman's tongue ? I feel that to give up all idea of a near and dear connexion, is as much my duty to myself as to you. Why should you be exposed to the annoyance, the mortification, of having the name of the woman you honour with your regard, coupled with insolent insinuation ?—you never would bear it.

"' I have just received your notes. God bless you—but-

" After Monday I shall, I hope, be visible ; at present it is impossible. My complaint is inflammation of the liver, and I am ordered complete repose—as if it were possible. Can you read this ? Under any circumstances, the " Most grateful and affectionate of your friends, L. E. LANDON.' " " The conduct of the gentleman to whom this letter was addressed was throughout, and in every respect, worthy of the honourable appreciation it ob- tained, and of her who could thus feel and act towards him."

Opinions may differ as to this conclusion : and that Mr. Mactmen's conduct would have been different, is beyond doubt, at least if we may judge from what his conduct actually was when shortly afterwards he made Miss LANDON an offer of his hand.

" At this time as well as afterwards—indeed, from the commencement of his acquaintance with her to the hour of her death—Mr. Maclean entertained but one feeling in relation to reports circulated to her prejudice. That feeling was contempt, contempt that never once wavered. However the report might have va- ried, or wherever it might be whispered, or whatever name might be associated with hers to her injury, he equally despised the tale. Not only had every thing been related to him, but all had been put to him in the worst light : again and again he was reminded, only to feel the more sympathy for the object of the calumny and the more confidence in that innocence, of which indeed society— if that word must be used—felt equally assured by its unquestioning. reception of her. From first to last, he desired nothing more than an opportunity of vin- dicating her ; and took every occasion to show how impossible it was to shake his steady faith in her truth and honour." Into the details attendant upon the marriage we have not space to enter, or into the particulars of Mrs. MACLEAN'S death. The reader Who is interested in the subject will find them at length in this work, accompanied by every letter of the ill-fated lady which reached England, as well as by the official documents relative to the inquest, and some papers from the families both of husband and wife. Mr. BLANCHARD also enters into an elaborate argument to show the great probability that Mrs. MACLEAN'S death was natural, from the bursting of an abscess in her ear or head. This medical argument is merely conjectural, and that by an unprofessional man. His inference that the bottle discovered in her hand contained no prussic acid at all, is ingenious : his argument is probable, that prussic acid could not have caused the death of Mrs. MACLEAN, from the length of time she lived even after being discovered in the fit, and from the total absence of the distinguishing smell of that poison. The comments upon the conduct of the surgeon in not instituting a post mortem examination are warranted. The other remarks upon the inquest seem to be made without a due consideration of the- climate and social circumstances of a colony like Cape Coast Castle. We in England, looking at the interest inspired by the deceased, and the slow, elaborate, and solemn proceedings that would have followed such an occurrence here, forget that many, perhaps most of the few European residents, had but a vague notion of L. E. L., if any notion at all; that sudden death is too common an occurrence on that pestiferous coast to excite much. horror; and that had the inquest and funeral been delayed accord- ing to British notions of decorum, the dead could not have been buried or approached without the greatest danger' o the living. This want of considering the difference between England and Cape Coast Castle seems, indeed, to have been the remote cause of much of the vague suspicion that agitated the public mind in England. Apparently unacquainted with the details of domestic life, and habi- tuated to the customs of Cape Coast Castle as things perfectly fit in themselves, Mr. MACLEAN never thought of informing his wife as to the duties requisite in supervising the Governor's household ; and he seems to have been averse to her taking out an English female servant,—for which, if a single woman, he might probably have sufficient reasons. Mrs. MACLEAN, like many other British ladies, seemed to fancy that an English colony must resemble England in 411 the means and appliances of daily life. Having excited herself with notions of the natives and the climate, she found her reel troubles to consist in overseeing a household of barbarous Blacks—if those can strictly be called troubles which served her in her correspondence as a topic of jest. Her letters, even to the last, are full of spirits and hope : her chief complaint, if it can be called one, is not having brought out an English servant or two, to bear her household duties ; and Mr. MACLEAN deposed upon the inquest, that " an unkind word had never passed " between them. The idea of the jealousy of some black Roxana having caused her death, was a still greater proof of ignorance : the castes even of Hindostan have no jealousy of Europeans ; and Mrs. MACLEAN herself remarks, in a letter—" I can scarcely make even you understand how perfectly ludicrous the idea of jealousy of a native woman is. Sentiment, affection, are never thought of: it is a temporary bargain." As to the real cause of her death we offer no judgment; but the only points of a questionable nature are these. 1. Two letters were written by Mrs. MACLEAN the night before her death, and given to the woman who attended her upon the voyage out, with directions that they should be delivered immediately : these letters were taken to Mr. MACLEAN, and never reached their destination. 2. This woman and her husband were to have sailed for England the next day : but they remained or were detained in the colony a twelve- month. For this delay Mr. MACLEAN has given an explanation, (Vol. L pp. 245, 246,) but scarcely a satisfactory one ; and no ex- planation can justify the detention of the letters. The biography is contained in the first volume of the publica- tion. The second volume contains some fugitive remains, the admirable poetical mottoes from Ethel Churchill, and the posthu- mous works of L. E. L. These consist of a series of prose papers on Scorn's "Female Characters "—rather general and dreamy, though graceful and occasionally acute ; together with Castruccio Castrucani, a tragedy—which seems to verge upon melodrama; but the fag-end of a long paper is not the place for a dramatic criticism.