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interference; and the bitterness of the past would often inflame me into what my friends, unconscious of the real occasion, thought an unaccountable and frenzied degree of heat and asperity. I once more, however, resolved to make an attempt; and not daring to trust my own powers of tongue, I resolved to calm and moderate my passion into the form of a very gentle and neatly expressed letter. Confusion !--- I then wanted passion; nothing could excuse my frigid indifference. I talked of love like a merchant: my beart, really warm and sincere, found no adequate representative: I was treated with scorn---rejected.

Now of all these methods, which was the best, where were the real grounds of failure and mortification? I was favored by all, perhaps beloved by all; yet I retired, discomfited and defeated, self-abased and unhappy. I have but a brief remark to offer, concerning that race, who, like my aunt, by the dignity and extent of their practice, are entitled to the appellation of match-makers. I do not refer to that petty and inconsiderable love of meddling, which is at once the disgrace and curse of idleness and ignorance, of vulgarity and common-place; but that fixed and settled passion of interference, sufficient to be extensively destructive, and to bestow a character on its owner. How, in the name of impudence, and Joseph Hume, dare any one to meddle upon such occasions, in such matters? What fiend prompts them to urge their own weakness, to the sorrow and destruction of others ? Let them consider; first, the awful, the eternal responsibility attending all such dealings; secondly, the certainty of being the standard mark, at which all parties will certainly direct the bolts of their occasional indignation and spleen; Jastly, they are never thanked, as they are never entitled to thanks in any case. Their trade is unnatural and useless, a violation of friendship, the occupation of fools, the thankless drudgery of busy idleness and vacuity.

But the plain point to come at, after all, is this--being in love, which is the wisest course of declaring your passion? There is the rub, that is truly germain to the matter. Answer that point satisfactorily, and you confer more benefit on society, contribute more to the universal content avd happiness of your fellow men, than if you were the inventor of the philosopher's stone, or the most admirable and mollifying species of shaving soap; I would sooner bave the merit of settling this question, than that of discovering the longitude. What the devil

, I ask, is navigation, or poetry, or the corn laws, compared with it? I have given the matter every consideration, and pronounce at once for oral traditione No other method, I venture to assert, is deserving the attention of a rational and immortal being, of a being whose greatest distinction from brutes is the possession of the power verbally to communicate and declare his true and honorable love. You will hear boys and simpletons talk of the eye-the language of the eye-love has eyes, is the hereditary delight of Noodledom. The sigh---the gentle pressure, all very well in their places---preludios. I do not mean to gainsay them, but will all or any of these ever bring

the matter to issue, or set the mind at rest; will they ever bring up the question---ring or no ring ? This is the theme for men, leave eyes and sighs, squints and squeezes, to the callow brood, the imberbes pueri, which being translated, means bread and butter boys.

It must be admitted, prima facie, that all men have not equal possessions of impudence or eloquence: some possess a happy union of both. There are many who are resolute in turning their natural and primitive vein of assurance to good account, to transmute their brass into gold, think no more of making an offer and being rejected, than of attending a horse fair; I put these out of the argument, but supposing a man to hold but a mean share of rhetoric, still, I say, speak to the question; ten words spoken, is better than ten quires written. You may falter, but you tell the truth, if not the whole of the truth, your meaning is not mistaken, you are not absolutely undone by a wrong punctuation, not positively ruined by a misplaced metonymy: you may feel abased you can say so little; better that, than be condemned for ever for having written too much; your very silence is sometimes eloquence. Get over the first two sentences, and you are happy; your triumph is certain, such a moment can never be forgotten, it is irretractable, it is sealed on the spot !

How any young lady can give countenance to a mean-spirited rascal, who is so lost to nature as to sit at his writing-desk and declare, what he infamously miscalls his passion, is to me a mystery. An animal who can coolly make a rough and interlined copy of his ardent emotions, as a butcher writes off his bill, and then inscribe the same on hot-pressed post, sign, seal, and send such a document, is altogether undeserving of love---of love did I say?---undeserving of any thing but a parade at a cart's tail. Depend upon it, that selfsame copy has been served on half the neighbourhood, and been returned for future use. It is a barefaced insult to his race. For what has he tongue? for what the distinguishing gifts of speech and language? I have now lived long, solitary, and watchful, in quiet contemplation of life and manners, and this opinion is the result. Would I had always reasoned thus; I should have declared earlier to my first love; I might not then have lost her, nor left her a prey to the heartless, the unimpassioned, the unseeling S

Having adopted my plan, said your speech with approbation, but unhappily see reason to repent, at what point can you retract with honor? Take the advice of an observant old man, never marry, even if you are at the church doors, if you have ground to doubt you shall be happy. Heaven and earth! what is it to be held the test of honor and integrity, to make shipwreck of the happiness of two immortal souls, until death, long desired, shall loose the bonds? The criterion of rectitude to confirm engagements certain of producing sorrow and despair? Marry for honor, and hate to destruction ? Frantic lawyers may lay down crude and impossible notions of life : old women, of both sexes, may affirm it to be wiser to marry first and part afterwards; I say that both parties have, in reason and nature, a clear and intelligible right to withdraw their consent at any time. Are we to talk of injured feelings? what injury so deadly as

that of an union with a heart indifferent or averse ? what wound so poignant as that inflicted by the icy coldness of the offered hand ? * Hath honor skill in surgery?” will the notion of honor thus applied yield any medicament to the bleeding and broken heart? Viewed in relation to society, the uneasiness produced by such separations is as nothing compared with the tortures of one unhappy being, forced by these ill-considered notions to enter into an irrevocable and enduring contract with one for whom he can feel no esteem. Here are misery and anguish ; this is sorrow, hopeless and immitigable. But I had not intended to have gone thus far; I fear that in introducing the matter at all, it may seem more an evidence of the garrulity of age, than the proofs of confirmed wisdom and experience.

I remain, Mr. Inspector, a very humble admirer,

Bring not the bowl to me,

With sunny wreath:
Bright though the goblet be,

Its draught is death ;
Let not for me the ruby face

Glow to its brim;
Who would life and sorrow chase,

Bear it to him.
Bring me not yellow gold-

A miser's store :
Blood for that wealth is sold,

For worthless ore-
There's blood upon its shine,

Bright though it be.
Such gold shall ne'er be mine,-

Nor heap'd for me!
Bring me not battle brand,

Pennon to wave,
Above the warrior band,

Who dare the grave.
There's no joy in warrior's toil,

No bliss in fame,
Won by a nation's spoil,

For one bright name.
Bring me not beauty's smile--

Beauty's blue eye.
For woman's tear and guile,

Nations may sigh.
I could pray for her weal,

Weep for her woe:
Love, my heart cannot feel,

My spirit know!
I ask not back again

My childhood's hours,
When life's path was not pain,

O’ergrown with flowers.

I know my heart too well

To dream of this ;
Feel its slow beatings tell

Not of such bliss.
No, this may never be ;

Yet would I crave
One magic gift of thee,

This side the grave.
All of the cloud shall fly-

My spirit bears ;
Wet but my burning eye-

Bring me but-tears.


Feb. 1827.

DIARY OF AN M.P. February 5. Why should my wealthy and respected friend, the Member for Callington, feel angry at my censure of his mincing, awaw-ing, lisping utterance, and his other affectations of un-mercantile gentility-the more offensive from the contrast of his masculine understanding, manly form, bold forehead, and intelligent countenance? why not rather endeavour to be in deportment as well as station—the Parliamentary head of the British Merchants, and Parliamentary leader of the commercial interest ? Alexander Baring is more than a well-informed man, he is an able man; indeed, an authority on those questions of commerce and currency which he usually discusses. He, to be sure, is not a Ricardo; against whom, by the way, he continually exhibited despicable feelings of captious jealousy; but he is, when he gives himself fair play, a clear judging, sensible man. He is never off the back of some particular hobby; and when there, never dismounts till its neck is broken or his own endangered. His hobby for 1827 is, fortifying the line of the St. Lawrence (only some 2500 miles), to protect Canada against the Yankees! His last and greatest favorite was the double standard, about the absurdest proposition ever maintained by a Political Economist, and that is, in all conscience, going far enough; as that model of gentlemen and senators, that union of all that is amiable in the English and Irish character, that unostentatiously well-informed and intrepid debater, Sir H. Parnell, demonstrated. Nothing can be clearer than the absurdity of making silver, as well as gold, a legal tender. If both be made a legal tender, it must be in a fixed ratio (twenty shillings, for example, for one sovereign); and, to be of practical use, their relative value should be invariable. Now their relative value is hy no means invariable; on the contrary, is, like Dick Martin, for ever shifting. What is the consequence? all borrowers pay, or endeavour to pay, their debt in the fallen metal; and then all holders of that fallen metal melt it as fast as they can. For, let us suppose, that, from a diminution in the supply of silver, the gold sovereign becomes worth twenty-one shillings in silver, or the quantity of silver in twenty shillings becomes worth only nineteen shillings in gold. In the first case, a speculator procures a sovereign with twenty shillings,

melts it, and sells it for twenty-one shillings; in the other, he buys silver bullion with his nineteen shillings in gold, has it coined into twenty shillings at the Mint; and, by the addition to the currency, raises the price of gold bullion to twenty-one shillings, when he procures a sovereign for twenty shillings, melts it, and sells it for twentyone shillings. Here, then, are double fluctuations; and whenever, by a change in the relative value of the metals, one of them becomes the standard of the other, the loss of the expense of the coinage, and half the metallic currency in circulation-necessarily spring from the wise proposition of the theory-abusing and “practical ” Mr. Alexander Baring. Even betting at Brookes's that the Corn Laws are not brought forward for one month, though fixed for the 19th; 3 to 2 but little alteration in the proposed measure; 5 to 1 taken that Ministers will be beaten in the Lords.

6. So Lady Georgiana Walpole has got a pearl for her other eye-a Rev. Jew Missionary, not unhappily named Wolff, a rival of Mr. and Lord

in the beauty and attraction of his face and person, and of the learned Attorney-General in his devotion to the toilet. He certainly is an out-and-out saint; for his odour and sanctity are so orthodox, thật sinners, like me, cannot stay within three yards of “ the sweet breath” of his reverend body. Í pity the Orford family sincerely; 'tis a poor joke to say, that the convert of the innocent and unselfish “ nation,” got the blind side of a pious (and wealthy) spinster one side of forty, and quoted such divers texts to her becoming bone of his bone, and Aesh of his flesh, and devoting her life and fortune to the temporal and eternal happiness of the chosen people. I am particularly sorry on John Walpole's account. Mr. ***** declared years ago, before time had a Diana-ing effect on the temperament of Lady G., that she would be carried off by a Methodist parson. I wish there was a Joint Stock Matrimony Methodist Company formed; I'd take one hundred shares in it, and make more than Ricardo did by“ the turn of the “ market.” What would Horace Walpole say?- Amor vincit omnia.

9. House pretty full yesterday evening; shameful neglect of mourning attire. Lord P. J. Stuart, the cut of a coachman, with his buttoned-up big coat, and red table-cloth cravat, and knowing broadbrimmed “ tile.” Nothing but Corn Laws and Catholic Emancipation. Was glad to see Sir Francis Burdett so well; a nobleminded fellow-heart in the right place, head intended to be so. At fault what course to pursue, on account of Canning's I am sorry to hear serious illness. My fat friend, Lord Nugent, in spirits; his pamphlet on Catholic Emancipation clever and gentlemanly ; intends to make a great speech this time. Give the odds he's blown first heat, and does not save his distance. Philosopher Torrens sets up to be the Corn Law oracle, to be what my Staffordshire friend Littleton is on private committee legislation—the Delphie Apollo. No petition to be laid on the table till it has received the censure or approbation of the “ External Corn Trade” Solon ! Better for him to mind his Ipswich election; hear the long odds given readily at

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