"Eh? Is Mr. Hurst here? God bless you, sir, for comin'! I'm a great sinner!-a great sinner!' She closed her eyes, and, muttering to herself in a weak and wandering way, fell off again into a doze.

Gabrielle felt the tears start to her eyes. She drew near the sick woman's pillow, and bending over her, said:

"It is I, Mrs. Broddick,—you remember Miss Gabrielle, don't you? And Mr. Gilbert, you have not forgotten him? He will be home in a few days.'

'Master Gilbert? Then he isn't come back yet?' The woman had opened her eyes, and was looking at Gabrielle with a new attention. 'Remember you, my dear? Ay, ay, to be sure I do. But your cousin, miss, aint he got back yet?' The question was put in a weak but anxious voice.

'No, but we expect him daily. I am sure he will come and see you, if you wish.'

'I must see him, miss, I must, said the sick woman, emphatically. 'Since I've been lyin' here, I seem to have lost all count of time; but I reckoned it was near the time for him comin' home. I must live to see him again!-I must live to see him again!'

'I hope you will; but ill as you are, I fear it would be wrong to speak too confidently.'

'You reckon, then, I'm not long for this world?' inquired the poor woman, looking anxiously at Gabrielle. "You think I'll never get about again?'

Gabrielle made no answer, but only gently shook her head.

'Oh, miss, what shall I do? There's the little locket, and the letter!-the letter-Miss Adelaide's letter !'

The sick woman's face suddenly wore an air of intense anxiety. Weak and sinking as she was, she tried to raise herself on the pillows.

'The letter?' repeated Gabrielle, thinking she was wandering. 'Don't trouble about it now, Mrs. Broddick.' She strove to calm her with soothing words.

'Ay, but I promised her I'd give it to him. I promised Miss Ade

laide I would!' She stopped a moment to gain breath, then added, 'She says to me-says my dear young lady, now going on one-andtwenty years ago-" Mary Wing, I'm a dyin' woman; and I'll never live to see my babe grow up; but I've wrote these words for him, which you'll keep till he's a man grown, and give him when he's come of age, with my dear love." But you know, miss, he's been away in foreign parts these three years past; and I'm no scholar, and couldn't write to him, you see, and-and-the letter's still lyin' yonder in the—'

She tried to point, it seemed, to the old chest of drawers in the corner, but her strength failed her, and her hand dropped by her side.

'Where did ye say it was, luvey?' asked the old woman, hobbling up to the bed with a look of eager curiosity.

Ere

But there was no response. Mrs. Broddick's eyes had closed again; her breathing was almost imperceptible. She had relapsed into the lethargic state in which Gabrielle had found her on entering. long she opened her eyes again; but there was a film gathering over them, and she did not seem conscious whom she was addressing. Looking at Gabrielle she murmured,

"The Master's here, is he? That's well-that's well. He didn't often use to pray to us; but if he'll pray now to me I'll die easier, I think. Kneel down, John. I can hear you, sir, though I can't see well.'

The pang Gabrielle felt at that moment was very keen. It was never forgotten afterwards. With trembling lips she explained to the dying woman that Mr. Hurst was not there, and then gently whispered the only words of comfort she could give. How her heart reproached her that they were so few and feeble-these solemn words whispered into dying ears. How a sense of her own incapacity weighed upon her and fettered her lips! But Gabrielle's voice soon grew unheeded by the dying woman. was fast receding to those bounds where no voice can penetrate. Gabrielle ceased, and there was silence in the cottage for some minutes.

She

COWPER'S is

no

valuable contribution to the political and social history of her times. It is understood to be edited by the Honourable Spencer Cowper, one of her descendants; and it is remarkably well edited, especially as concerns the elucidation of the text. The notes contain the precise amount of information needed, and more; they exhibit a rare degree of assiduity and self-restraint; but the Introduction, good also as far as it goes, is unluckily limited to a slight notice of the diarist, and an explanation of the circumstances connected with the preservation and imperfect character of her papers. Fully appreciating the motives which prevented Mr. Cowper from assuming a more prominent part, we cannot help regretting that, qualified as he obviously is to supply a sketch of the principal personages and events of the period, he shrank from the task; for some preliminary acquaintance with them is essential to the enjoyment, if not to the proper understanding, of the book. will endeavour to supply the deficiency in part, by recapitulating the rise and position of Lord Cowper, his own and his wife's hopes, fears and prospects, and their respective relations to the party leaders and court favourites, at the accession of George I.

We

William, the first Lord Cowper, was the eldest son of Sir William Cowper, a baronet of ancient family and large possessions, lying principally in Hertfordshire. So little is known of the early life of the future Chancellor, that his chief biographers (Lord Campbell and Mr. Welsby) have doubted whether he was educated at a private or public school, or was ever a member of a University. Swift, however, calls him 'a piece of a scholar;' and his career certainly began with every advantage that birth, fortune, connexion, and personal endowments could bestow. His voice, manners,

and appearance are praised even by the most envious of his contemporaries; perhaps the less grudgingly, because they exposed him to temptations, and were thus indirectly the means of compromising him. When very young, he formed an irregular connexion with a lady, a Miss Culling, of Hertingfordbury Park, near Hertford, by whom he had two children. There was no dissimilarity of rank or fortune to make a marriage improbable; and although they never were married, it afterwards became a favourite topic with the satirists to assert that they had been; and the nickname of 'Will Bigamy,' fastened on Lord Cowper by Swift, was based on the assertion. This gentleman,' wrote the Dean, in the Examiner in 1810, 'knowing that marriage fees were a considerable perquisite to the clergy, found out a way of improving them cent. per cent. for the benefit of the Church. His invention was to marry a second wife whilst the first was alive, convincing her of the lawfulness by such arguments as he did not doubt would make others follow the same example. These he had drawn up in writing, with intention to publish for the general good, and it is hoped he may now have leisure to finish them.'

So loose was the morality of the age, that neither the liaison nor the imputation founded on it stood in the way of his preferment at any period; nor did the far more formidable charge against his brother Spencer, who was tried for the murder of a young Quakeress, and was very generally, although most unjustly, thought guilty, prevent him also from eventually ascending the judgment-seat. The rise of William was singularly rapid. In 1693,

when he was of not more than five years' standing at the bar, and probably under twenty-eight years of age-the date of his birth is unknown-he was made Solicitor

General to the Queen and King's Counsel. In 1795 he was returned, jointly with his father, one of the representatives for the town of Hertford, and he lost no time in aspiring to parliamentary distinc tion. He is reported to have spoken three times on the day when he took his seat; and his sustained activity corresponded with his debut. He took an eager part on the Whig side in most measures of consequence which came before the House, until 1705; when, as a reward for his energy and consistency, he was forced upon a reluctant Queen and an equally reluctant Premier (Godolphin) by his party, who made his nomination as Lord Keeper a condition of their support; the immediate instrument of his elevation being the arrogant and then all-powerful favourite, the Duchess of Marlborough.

The year following, 1706, having adroitly employed the interval in conciliating the royal favour, he was made Lord Chancellor, and raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Cowper. He had a difficult part to play in the composite ministry of which he now formed so important a part; and as he too kept an occasional diary, we learn from himself the causes of disunion which eventually led to the break-up of 1710. Thus, in describing a dinner given by Harley, at which the Whig leaders were present, he says:-'On the departure of Lord Godolphin, Harley took a glass, and drank to love and friendship, and everlasting union, and wished he had more Tokay to drink it in. We had drank two bottles, good, but thick. I replied his white Lisbon was best to drink it in, being very clear. I suppose he apprehended it (as most of the company did) to relate to that humour of his, which was never to deal clearly or openly, but always with reserve, if not with dissimulation, or rather simulation; and to love tricks when not necessary, but from an inward satisfaction in applauding his own cunning.'

When, in consequence of the successful machinations of Harley and Bolingbroke, a complete clearance of the Whig members of the Govern

VOL. LXIX. NO. CCCCXIII.

He

ment took place, the intriguers were anxious to retain Lord Cowper; and when he attended to resign the Great Seal, the Queen insisted on his retaining it, saying, 'I beg it as a favour, if I may use that expression.' He yielded for the moment, but, the day after, the resignation was repeated and accepted. gained much credit by his conduct in this crisis, and further added to his influence and reputation by his celebrated letter to Isaac Bickerstaff, in answer to Bolingbroke's letter to the Examiner,-a truculent attack on the Duchess of Marlborough and the Whigs.

Lord Cowper remained in opposition till the accession of George I.; then he resumed the Great Seal, which he retained till 1718. The last entry in his diary relates to what passed at the audience, when it was delivered to him by the new sovereign. He performed his judicial duties tolerably well for those days; but his commendable and useful qualities appear more showy than solid, whether we regard him as a lawyer or an orator. He was an excellent illustration of Lord Chesterfield's pet maxims; and that fastidious critic says that 'his strength lay by no means in his reasonings, for he often hazarded very weak ones. But such was the purity and elegancy of his style, such the propriety and charm of his elocution, and such the gracefulness of his action, that he never spoke without universal applause; the ears and the eyes gave him up the hearts and the understandings of his audience.' The, popular impression may be collected from one of Pope's couplets, in which the two serjeants are represented bandying compliments:

'Twas, Sir, your wit,'-and Sir, your eloquence,'

Yours, Cowper's manner,' and 'yours,
Talbot's sense.'

He was married twice, without counting the affair with Miss Culling; to whom (to borrow Captain Macheath's distinction) he was married in all but the form. His first wife was Judith, daughter and heiress of Sir Robert Booth. She

РР

COWER'S is

valuable contribution to the political and social history of her times. It is understood to be edited by the Honourable Spencer Cowper, one of her descendants; and it is remarkably well edited, especially as concerns the elucidation of the text. The notes contain the precise amount of information needed, and no more; they exhibit a rare degree of assiduity and self-restraint; but the Introduction, good also as far as it goes, is unluckily limited to a slight notice of the diarist, and an explanation of the circumstances connected with the preservation and imperfect character of her papers. Fully appreciating the motives which prevented Mr. Cowper from assuming a more prominent part, we cannot help regretting that, qualified as he obviously is to supply a sketch of the principal personages and events of the period, he shrank from the task; for some preliminary acquaintance with them is essential to the enjoyment, if not to the proper understanding, of the book.

We

will endeavour to supply the deficiency in part, by recapitulating the rise and position of Lord Cowper, his own and his wife's hopes, fears and prospects, and their respective relations to the party leaders and court favourites, at the accession of George I.

William, the first Lord Cowper, was the eldest son of Sir William Cowper, a baronet of ancient family and large possessions, lying principally in Hertfordshire. So little is known of the early life of the future Chancellor, that his chief biographers (Lord Campbell and Mr. Welsby) have doubted whether he was educated at a private or public school, or was ever a member of a University. Swift, however, calls him 'a piece of a scholar;' and his career certainly began with every advantage that birth, fortune, connexion, and personal endowments could bestow. His voice, manners,

and appearance are praised even by the most envious of his contemporaries; perhaps the less grudgingly, because they exposed him to temptations, and were thus indirectly the means of compromising him. When very young, he formed an irregular connexion with a lady, a Miss Culling, of Hertingfordbury Park, near Hertford, by whom he had two children. There was no dissimilarity of rank or fortune to make a marriage improbable; and although they never were married, it afterwards became a favourite topic with the satirists to assert that they had been; and the nickname of 'Will Bigamy,' fastened on Lord Cowper by Swift, was based on the assertion. This gentleman,' wrote the Dean, in the Examiner in 1810, 'knowing that marriage fees were a considerable perquisite to the clergy, found out a way of improving them cent. per cent. for the benefit of the Church. His invention was to marry a second wife whilst the first was alive, convincing her of the lawfulness by such arguments as he did not doubt would make others follow the same example. These he had drawn up in writing, with intention to publish for the general good, and it is hoped he may now have leisure to finish them.'

So loose was the morality of the age, that neither the liaison nor the imputation founded on it stood in the way of his preferment at any period; nor did the far more formidable charge against his brother Spencer, who was tried for the murder of a young Quakeress, and was very generally, although most unjustly, thought guilty, prevent him also from eventually ascending the judgment-seat. The rise of William was singularly rapid. In 1693, when he was of not more than five years' standing at the bar, and probably under twenty-eight years of age-the date of his birth is unknown-he was made Solicitor