A tuneful mandoline, and then a voice, Cla. Oh father! father! Rie. Well! Do'st love him, Claudia? Cla. Father! Rie. Do'st thou love Young Angelo? Yes? Said'st thou yes? That heart To Rome; he left thee on mine errand, dear one; Cla. Oh father! father! Rie. Now, Back to thy maidens, with a lighten'd heart, Cla. Alas! alas! I tremble at the height. Whene'er I think Rie. Tremble! Let them tremble. I am their master, Claudia, whom they scorn'd, RIENZI'S INFLEXIBILITY. If Rie. Lords, ye could range before me all the peers, Prelates, and potentates of Christendom,― The holy pontiff kneeling at my knee, And emperors crouching at my feet, to sue For this great robber, still I should be blind As Justice. But this very day a wife, Of nature! And, when I at last said no- And those poor innocent babes between the stones POPULAR APPLAUSE. Cosmo. (Shouts without.) Hark! thou art called. The citizens demand their general. Go! The last drop in my veins for them and freedom; Of Fame's young blossoms-Oh, I hate them all! That woo's her beauty. Cos. Come. From Foscari. 458 LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON. THE talented woman of whom the world has been so lately and prematurely deprived, was born in Hans Place, Chelsea. She is supposed to have delineated the history of her own early life and studies in her work entitled Traits and Trials, which was published in 1837. Having lost her father at an early period, and feeling within her youthful mind those aspirations of genius which could not be repressed, she began to write even while still in the age of girlhood, and devoted the proceeds of her labours to the comfort of the family. Having commenced a career of authorship thus prematurely, she unfortunately acquired those habits of intellectual independence, which made her indifferent to the conventional forms of society, but against which no female can rebel with impunity. From this cause, her natural cheerfulness of spirit, and fearlessness in the expression of her feelings were exhibited with a frankness, which the censorious blamed as unbecoming, and by which they were enabled to wound most injuriously her peace and good name during her subsequent career. After Miss Landon had commenced authorship under the anonymous signature of L. E. L., her works succeeded with great rapidity. The titles of these were The Improvisatrice, The Troubadour, The Golden Violet, The Golden Bracelet, and The Vow of the Peacock. Such indeed was the rapidity of her pen in verse, that she wrote poetry faster than prose. In the latter she often was obliged to hesitate in the choice of a word; but in the former, expressions flowed spontaneously, so that she experienced no impediment. Besides these works, she wrote three novels, which were entitled Romance and Reality, Francesca Carrara, and Ethel Churchill, productions distinguished by the same vividness of fancy and depth of feeling that had characterised her poetical productions, and which attained a deserved celebrity. After having acquired a high poetical reputation, the permanent happiness of Miss Landon seemed to be secured by her marriage in 1838, with Mr. Maclean, the Governor of Cape Coast Castle. Immediately after the marriage she set sail with her husband to Africa, and on their arrival at the settlement, she wrote several playful letters to her London correspondents, describing the scenery of the country and the manners of the people. But these cheerful missives were almost immediately succeeded by tidings of her death. Having been subject to spasms and hysterical affections, hydrocianic acid was prescribed to mitigate their attacks, but probably in consequence of injudiciously taking too large a dose she was found dead in her bedroom, on the morning of the 15th of October, 1838. As Mrs. Maclean published poetry at a very early period, and continued to produce her works in rapid succession, her versification exhibits the consequent defects, being somewhat loose and irregular in its structure, while her several poems bear a resemblance to each other that subjects them to the charge of mannerism. But even these serious defects are almost lost sight of in the lively and sparkling imagination and deep tone of feeling with which they everywhere abound. It must also be added to her praise, that notwithstanding this continual strain upon her powers, she was indefatigable in the cultivation of her mind, and the acquirement of new stores of knowledge, so that in her latest poetry there are the obvious indications of very considerable improvement. It had been her purpose also during her sojourn in Africa to maintain her literary connexion with England, and she trusted to produce works superior to those she had already written—a hope which she would probably have realized had her life been continued. But the sweet songstress died-died with a suddenness, and under circumstances, that produced a shudder in the literary world. Even calumny could not spare her memory after that mournful close, and surmises as malignant as they were ridiculous, were circulated, that she had committed suicide. But to this, the evidence furnished upon the coroner's inquest was a sufficient refutation, even if the whole tenor of her life, and the cheerful letter which she wrote on the morning of her death, had not been deemed enough. At length I made myself a task- I drew her on a rocky shore: Her black hair loose, and sprinkled o'er White lips, as parch'd by their hot sighs; Just such a statue as should be Placed ever, Love, beside thy shrine; Warning thy victims of what ills— What burning tears, false god! are thine. Before her was the darkling sea; Behind, the barren mountains roseA fit home for the broken heart To weep away life, wrongs, and woes. I had now but one hope;-that when The hand that traced these tints was cold- From The Improvisatrice. SONG. Farewell!-we shall not meet again, Be free, be careless, cold, as thou! It must be mine to bear? One wish my soul still dwells upon— |