CONYERS MIDDLETON.

Conyers Middleton, a Rationalist theologian, a biographer of Cicero, and one of the chief opponents of Bentley at Trinity College, was born at Richmond (Yorkshire) in 1683, and died in 1750 at Hildersham. His honesty has been perhaps justly attacked; the general merit and accomplishment of his style is, despite De Quincey's attempt to depreciate it, undeniable.

CICE

CICERO CONSUL.

ICERO was now arrived through the usual gradation of honours, at the highest which the people could regularly give, or an honest citizen desire. The offices which he had already borne had but a partial jurisdiction, confined to particular branches of the government; but the consuls held the reins, and directed the whole machine with an authority as extensive as the empire itself. The subordinate magistracies, therefore, being the steps only to this sovereign dignity, were not valued so much for their own sake, as for bringing the candidates still nearer to the principal objects of their hopes, who, through this course of their ambition, were forced to practise all the arts of popularity: to court the little as well as the great, to espouse the principles and politics in vogue, and to apply their talents to conciliate friends, rather than to serve the public. But the consulship put an end to this subjection, and with the command of the state gave them the command of themselves: so that the only care left was, how to execute this high office with credit and dignity, and employ the power entrusted to them for the benefit and service of their country.

We are now therefore to look upon Cicero in a different light, in order to form a just idea of his character: to consider him, not as an ambitious courtier, applying all his thoughts and pains to his own advancement; but as a great magistrate and statesman, administering the affairs and directing the councils of a mighty empire. And, according to the accounts of all the ancient writers, Rome never stood in greater need of the skill and vigilance of an able consul than in this very year. For besides the traitorous cabals and conspiracies of those who were attempting to subvert the whole Republic, the new tribunes were also labouring to disturb the present quiet of it: some of them were publishing laws to abolish everything that remained of Sylla's establishment, and to restore the sons of the proscribed to their estates and honours; others to reverse the punishment of P. Sylla and Autronius, condemned for bribery, and replace them in the senate some were for expunging all debts, and others for dividing the lands of the public to the poorer citizens: so that, as Cicero declared, both to the senate and the people, the Republic was delivered into his hands full of terrors and alarms; distracted by pestilent laws and seditious haranguers; endangered, not by foreign wars, but intestine evils, and the traitorous designs of profligate citizens; and that there was no mischief incident to a state which the honest had not cause to apprehend, the wicked to expect.

What gave the greater spirit to the authors of these attempts, was Antonius's advancement to the consulship: they knew him to be of the same principles, and embarked in the same designs with themselves, which, by his authority, they now hoped to carry into effect. Cicero was aware of this; and foresaw the mischief of a colleague equal to him in power, yet opposite in views, and prepared to frustrate all his endeavours for the public service; so that his first care, after their election, was to gain the confidence of Antonius, and to draw him from his old engagements to the interests of the Republic; being convinced that all the success of his administration depended upon it. He began therefore to tempt him by a kind of argument, which seldom fails of its effect with men of his character, the offer of power to his ambition, and of money to his pleasures: with these baits he

horseback to pass into the Venetian territories; and generously gave me a purse of gold to pay the surgeons; desiring me to make a present to the footman; and to accept of the remainder, as a mark of his satisfaction in my conduct, and in my care and tenderness of my master.

The surgeons told him that my chevalier could not live over the day.

When the Colonel took leave of him, Mr. Lovelace said, You have well revenged the dear creature.

I have, sir, said Mr. Morden; and perhaps shall be sorry that you called upon me to this work, while I was balancing whether to obey, or disobey, the dear angel.

There is a fate in it! replied my chevalier—a cursed fate!—or this could not have been !-But be ye all witnesses, that I have provoked my destiny, and acknowledge that I fall by a man of honour.

Sir, said the Colonel, with the piety of a confessor, wringing Mr. Lovelace's hand, snatch these few fleeting moments, and commend yourself to God.

And so he rode off.

The voiture proceeded slowly with my chevalier; yet the motion set both his wounds bleeding afresh; and it was with difficulty they again stopped the blood.

We brought him alive to the nearest cottage; and he gave orders to me to dispatch to you the packet I herewith send sealed up; and bid me write to you the particulars of this most unhappy affair; and to give you thanks, in his name, for all your favours and friendship to him.

Contrary to all expectation, he lived over the night; but suffered much, as well from his impatience and disappointment, as from his wounds; for he seemed very unwilling to die.

He was delirious at times, in the two last hours; and then several times cried out, as if he had seen some frightful spectre, Take her away! Take her away! but named nobody. And sometimes praised some lady, that Clarissa, I suppose, whom he had invoked when he received his death's wound, calling her Sweet Excellence! Divine Creature! Fair Sufferer !-And once he said, Look down, Blessed Spirit, look down And there stopt; his lips, however, moving.

At nine in the morning, he was seized with convulsions, and fainted away; and it was a quarter of an hour before he came out of them.

His few last words I must not omit, as they shew an ultimate composure; which may administer some consolation to his honourable friends.

Blessed-said he, addressing himself no doubt to Heaven; for his dying eyes were lifted up—a strong convulsion prevented him for a few moments saying more-but recovering, he again, with great fervour, lifting up his eyes and his spread hands, pronounced the word blessed! Then, in a seeming ejaculation, he spoke inwardly, so as not to be understood; at last, he distinctly pronounced these three words,—

LET THIS EXPIATE!

And then, his head sinking on his pillow, he expired, at about half an hour after ten.

Clarissa Harlowe.

P. 170, 1. 12. The writer is Lovelace's valet. Colonel Morden, Clarissa's cousin, challenges Lovelace, to revenge her seduction and death.

I

LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU.

Lady Mary Pierrepont, eldest daughter of the first Duke of Kingston, was born about 1690, married Edward Wortley Montagu in 1712, accompanied her husband when he went as ambassador to Constantinople, lived much in literary society at home and abroad, and died in 1762. Her rank as the best letter-writer of her sex in English is undisputed.

LOUVERE.

HAVE already described to you this extraordinary spot of land, which is almost unknown to the rest of the world, and indeed does not seem to be destined by nature to be inhabited by human creatures, and I believe would never have been so, without the cruel civil war between the Guelps and Gibellines. Before that time here were only the huts of a few fishermen, who came at certain seasons on account of the fine fish with which this lake abounds, particularly trouts, as large and red as salmon. The lake itself is different from any other I ever saw or read of, being the colour of the sea, rather deeper tinged with green, which convinced me that the surrounding mountains are full of minerals, and it may be rich in mines yet undiscovered, as well as quarries of marble, from whence the churches and houses are ornamented, and even the streets paved, which, if polished and laid with art, would look like the finest mosaic work, being a variety of beautiful colours. I ought to retract the honourable title of street, none of them being broader than an alley, and impassable for any wheel carriage except a wheelbarrow. This town, which is the largest of twenty-five that are