has been in working on this collection of his Prose. He felt almost
awed as he handled the great and good man's MSS., and found himself
behind the screen (as it were), seeing what he had seen, touching what
he had touched, knowing what he had known, feeling what he had felt.
Reverence, even veneration is an empty word to utter the emotion excited
in such communion; these certainly, but something tenderer and more
human were in head and heart. It was a grand, high-thoughted,
pure-lived, unique course that was run in those sequestered vales. The
closer one gets to the man, the greater he proves, the truer, the
simpler; and it is a benediction to the race, amid so many fragmentary
and jagged and imperfect lives, to have one so rounded and completed, so
august and so genuine:

'Summon Detraction to object the worst
That may be told, and utter all it can;
It cannot find a blemish to be enforced
Against him, other than he was a man,
And built of flesh and blood, and did live here,
Within the region of infirmity;
Where all perfections never did appear
To meet in any one so really,
But that his frailty ever did bewray
Unto the world that he was set in clay.'

(Funeral Panegyric on the Earl of Devonshire, by Samuel Daniel.)

ALEXANDER B. GROSART.

_Park View, Blackburn, Lancashire_.