He says: "I knew, that, if her ear he nipped,
The darling prize could never be outstripped."




CHARLES LAMB AND SYDNEY SMITH.


There were in Great Britain, soon after the commencement of the present
century, three remarkable groups of young men. Distinct schools of
thought, like the philosophic schools of Greece, each of the groups was
marked by peculiar ideas, tastes, and sympathies. The French Revolution,
with its menace of fundamental changes, clashing with sentiments and
convictions which ages had rendered habitual and dear, called for an
inquiry into great principles and the grounds of things. The Napoleonic
age had the terrific formlessness of chaos. Did it premonish the passing
away of old things, and herald the birth of a new order and a new social
state? or did the trouble spring from innate madness in the "younger
strengths" which were trying to overthrow the world's kingdoms? Should
venerable Royalty, after howling in the wilderness and storm, be again
enthroned? or should men attempt to realize the fair ideals which
the word Republic suggested? Should religion be supplanted? should
Protestantism be confirmed? or should, perchance, the crosier of the Old
Church be again waved over Europe? These were the questions that were
mooted, and they aroused unwonted activity and vigor of thought as well
in literature as in politics.

The old century left in England few celebrated names to take part in the