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in 1778, it goes, to every one's satis- her sick bed composes and sends to faction, into a new edition.
Grimm, with a lock of her hair, the Before this time Madame d'Epinay's verses which begin: health, never robust, has begun to cause her friends great anxiety. She Les voilà, ces cheveux que le temps a would seem, like many delicate people, blanchis: to bear, and to have always borne, her D'une longue union ils sont pour nous physical sufferings very pluckily. The little Emilie is with her a great deal. Grimm, never impassioned, is yet al- She has friends and relatives about ways faithful. He has an extraordi- her to the end. Her last correspondnary attachment for the grandchild, ence is with that chief of all the Enwhich, perhaps, brings him the more cyclopædists, d'Alembert. And then often to see Louise. In 1777 she bears her "Conversations" attain the supreme of Francueil's marriage to a daughter honor of being crowned by the Acaof Marshal Saxe. (Of this marriage is démie Française. So that she dies smil. born a son, Maurice Dupin, who is the ing as she has lived. father of Madame George Sand.) In 1778 Louise sees in Paris Voltaire, now Her "Memoirs," which are chiefly near his death. Rousseau (whose "Con- known to English people through Sydfessions" have had so fatal an effect ney Smith's brilliant critique, owe their upon her good name) does not long great claim to fame in the vivid picsurvive him. It is Madame's part, tures they give of Rousseau, Duclos, though she is herself not an old woman, Voltaire, and many other minor celebto watch the going of almost all the rities. They are written in a style very acquaintances of her youth. Her situ- bright, easy and vivacious. They reation is very lonely. Her husband's cord not a few inimitable conversations death does not make it any lonelier, (as in the two scenes at Mademoiselle perhaps. Her son is wild-after such Quinault's), and here and there a meman upbringing and amid such examples orable axiom. They present strikingly how should he not be? Her daughter the life and manners of the day. Furhas her own life to lead. What must ther than this they are worth little. be the feelings of the woman with death These are the "Memoirs" of false in the near future and that wasted ex- names and suppressions. Madame inistence to look back at in the past? vents a tutor to tell the story of the
Is it repentance, agony, remorse, ter- charming Emilie, and only tells the ror, that she suffers in these lonely truth about her because she does not hours of sickness and solitude? It perceive how damning that truth is. would not seem to be so. After all, When, indeed, the conduct of
this "one can be but what one is.”
heroine has been too obviously shame. The dying woman faces the great less even for her to think it virtuous, mystery with, at least, something of she appeals very prettily from the readthat légèreté with which the coquette er's judgment and moral sense to that of La Chevrette faced life. A sinner? much more gullible thing, his feelings. Well, perhaps. But not half such a The whole book is full of very brightly great sinner as most of one's acquaint- written details of very dull intrigues; ance! If one lives self-deceived one of sordid details of bankruptcy and may well die so.
creditors; of minute details of old quarMadame is removed presently to a
rels; of loathesome details of sickness little house at Chaillot, and there from and sin. If one wants to keep intact a
faith in noble aims, in self-devotion, and in that spirit which has made some put honor first and pleasure a great way after, one will not read Madame d'Epinay. But if one is a pessimist about human nature and wants his pessimism confirmed, he can hardly do better than study this lively account of Longman's Magazine.
the littleness and meanness of great men and of a great age; while the historian will certainly find a niche in the temple of fame for the woman who depicts so vividly, because SO unconsciously, the crying need in her class and time of that cleansing by fire, the French Revolution.
8. G. Tallentyre.
THE LAZARUS OF EMPIRE.
The Celt, he is proud in his protest,
He knows no place in her councils,
How long, oh, how long, the dishonor,
W. Wilfred Campbell.
MR. BLACKMORE AND “THE MAID OF SKER.”
It is common report that “The Maid tion in the artist. A Welshman might of Sker,” and not "Lorna Doone,” was have understood Davy as well, but he of all his novels the late Mr. Black- would have been to him too familiar a more's favorite, and many have been type to deserve artistic treatment; puzzled by his preference. There was whereas an ordinary Englishman would much, however, to account for it in the have sketched Davy as an unredeemcircumstances under which the novel able villain. Blackmore, with rare inwas written, though perhaps it was sight, saw him exactly as
he was, more especially due to the pride which and recognized his possibilities. About Mr. Blackmore felt in the drawing of Newton Nottage people will tell you one of the chief characters. To me it that Davy Llewellyn was a well-known would seem that only those who are Newton poacher, and will point out well acquainted with South Wales and where his house, lately pulled down, its people can fully realize the genius once stood by the village-green and which inspires the book. I have lived facing the ancient church. They will for several years past just two miles show you the inns that he frequented, away from the "vast lonely house" of the Jolly Sailors, and the Welcome to Sker and in the very parish of Newton Town, next door to the chapel, which Nottage, where Davy Llewellyn are unaltered. But they see nothing schemed and poached; and my love wonderful in the portrait of Davy; for the book, which began in the old it is to them a mere transcript of fact, novel room of the Oxford Union some tricked out with some foolish emtwenty-five years ago, has of late been bellishments. Blackmore did not even ever deepened and widened, till it is change the name of his original; he no longer to me a subject of wonder only transferred him to an earlier genthat Mr. Blackmore set "The Maid of eration and introduced him to pictuSker" on the highest pinnacle of his resque adventures. But in taking an esteem.
ordinary and every day character from The Maid herself is a delightful char- the real life of a Welsh village, he has, acter, and as Mr. Blackmore drew the by the force of genius, invested it with infantile ways and prattle of Bardie a peculiar charm. “The humble but from a favorite niece, it was natural warm-hearted Cambrian," garrulous for him to regard her with a particular and conceited, proud of his ancestor, affection. But the masterpiece of the the bard, and of his Welsh nationality, book is Davy Llewellyn. To say that but ever ready to serve his own interest he is a typical Welshman, would be an and not overscrupulous as to the methinsult to Wales, which has far nobler ods of doing so; skilful in selling fish types of character to boast of; yet, no- with a gamesome odor; cautious and where else than in Wales could exactly crafty and subtle as any Boer; submissuch a character be found, for he is as sive to his betters, but, when provoked, truly Welsh as Sir Hugh Evans, with dangerous (take, for instance, “his whom he has several points in com- righteous action” of burning Parson mon. But, saving Shakespeare's rever- Chowne's ricks), an arrant poacher, and ence, Blackmore's picture is even better with a weakness for rum and water,than his, and such as needed the com- is yet withal brave, upright according bination of rare qualities of apprecia- to his standards, a good Church and
State man, popular generally with his descended. Colonel Lougher will be reneighbors (except Sandy Macraw), membered as the good squire of Cankind to his Polly, and above all is one dleston Court, whom Davy Llewellyn who loves little children and whom esteemed “one of the finest and noblest little children love. It was by no men” it was ever his hap to meet. The means easy to make so complex a name of Candleston is taken from an character attractive, yet while we old ruined castle not far away from shake our heads at Davy's weaknesses, Newton Church, and though there was we love him the more for them. We, no Colonel Lougher living at the time like Miss Carey, even rejoice at the of the battle of the Nile, there was a wild justice of his revenge on Chowne, somewhat notable descendant of the and chuckle with him over his forcible Lougher family then resident in the conquest of Brother Hezekiah Perkins; neighborhood, Colonel Knight of nay, so good-natured do we become to Tythegston Court. Tythegston Court his failings, that we not only believe is a fine mansion, still owned by relaat last that he out-manæuvred Chowne, tions of Blackmore, two miles from but are not offended by his hint that Newton on the other side of Danygralg his was the genius that won the battle Hill, or, as Davy Llewellyn calls it, of the Nile.
"Newton Down, where the glow-worms But there was probably another cause are most soft and sweet." for Blackmore's partiality, besides his Nottage Court is a veritable museum fondness for the characters of his fa- of curiosities, the most remarkable of vorite novel. The district of Newton which is some old tapestry brought Nottage was one in which he spent from Tewkesbury Abbey. But lovers some of his happiest days, when he of Blackmore would look with even saw his youth before him
greater interest upon an antique oak sessed the fullest and keenest capacity bedstead, finely carved with figures of of enjoyment afforded by a nature that Joseph and his brethren, on which the was always eminently sensitive to en. novelist himself often slept, and on joyment. At Nottage Court he often which his father died during sleep, spent his vacations when he was an un- and upon some chessmen which Black. dergraduate of Exeter College, Oxford, more himself turned, for chess was aland there he began to write “The Maid ways a great hobby of his. Nor would of Sker.” It was then owned by his they despise some relics of the old uncle, the Reverend Henry Hey Knight, Dissenting divine, hymn-writer and who was a scholar and antiquary of epigrammatist, Dr. Doddridge, whose considerable repute, and it is at this granddaughter was the grandmother of day in the occupation of Mr. Black- Richard Doddridge Blackmore. His more's cousins. It is an old Eliza- chair and a copy of Hickes's “Devobethan house with a chequered history, tions," with notes in his own handwritand at one time was owned by a cer- ing, are among these. The book betain Cradock Nowell, whose memorial longed to his daughter Mercy, and sug. tablet is still conspicuous on the wall gests curious reflections, for its conof Newton Church, and whose name, tents are of a much higher type of at least, must be familiar to lovers of churchmanship than would be usually the novelist and to readers of old vol. acceptable in a Dissenting household. umes of Macmillan's Magazine. An- Nottage Court stands at the eastern other name connected with the house extremity of the quaint hamlet of Notis that of Lougher, from a branch of tage, whose houses are huddled towhich family Blackmore himself was gether like a brood of little chickens
LIVING AGL. VOL. VIII. 413
crowding for protection beside their of golf-players, for there are excellent mother-hen. Nottage itself stands at links in its neighborhood. The name the apex of a triangle, and at the angles should be pronounced Scare. Blackof its base are the other two villages more took his title from a Welsh loveof Newton and Porthcawl, which, with song written in the last century by a Nottage, make up the parish of Newton harper of Newton concerning one of Nottage. Porthcawl boasts a harbor, the daughters of the tenant of Sker a railway station, a large hotel and House. When Delushy calls herself other modern improvements, and has Y Ferch o'r Scer in answer to Sir Philip more than a local reputation for its Bampfylde's inquiry, she
the exceedingly bracing air. But with all Welsh title of the song. these advantages it is deplorably mod- It is, however, with Newton, next ern, and Newton and Nottage look to Nottage, that Blackmore himself down upon it from the dizzy height of was more particularly connected, for their antiquity. Davy Llewellyn could one of his uncles was rector of the parnot have lived at Porthcawl; it would ish and ministered in its old church, not have suited a man of his ancient and in Newton churchyard his father lineage, though it was good enough for lies buried. The inscription on the Sandy Macraw, whom local tradition gravestone, written by Blackmore himidentifies with one McBride, whose re- self in that rhythmic, half metrical lations still live and flourish there. As prose, which is characteristic of much was in former times the difference be- of his work, is worth quoting. tween the Welsh bard and the envious
I. H. S. After three-score years and Scotchman, such is still the difference
four, spent, from infancy to age, in between the autochthonous aristocracy
labor, faith, and piety, the Reverend of Newton and the democratic aliens
John Blackmore, ot Ashford in the and immigrants of its upstart rival.
County of Devon, was borne in his But perhaps we are more tolerant now
sleep to that repose which awaiteth the than our predecessors. There was no children of God. September 24th or love lost between Davy Llewellyn and 25th, 1858. Sandy Macraw; Sandy would not have been disinclined to get rid of his rival. The grave stands in an exquisitely One day when he, that is McBride, was pretty spot; the old Norman churcb attending a cousin of Blackmore's, who with its massive tower looks over the was shooting on the sandhills, they churchyard with its graves planted chanced to catch Davy poaching, and often with fragrant flowers, and over McBride "half in fun and half in mal- the green outside, where the geese gabice," shouted to his companion to shoot ble and the children play, even as him. We do not now meditate shooting Bardie and Bunny played of old. The Newton people.
well of St. John the Baptist, famed I have mentioned Porthcawl, because from ancient time for its curious ebb it was the home of Sandy Macraw, and and flow, is hard by on the edge of the also, because apart from “The Maid of sandhills; but old Davy could not now Sker," its
is more generally sit there with his cronies and the chilknown than that of Newton Nottage. dren around him, nor can children go It lies on the Glamorganshire coast, down the steps to draw water, for the some thirty miles west of Cardiff and well is fastened up, and the water is twenty southeast of Swansea. Sker drawn from an ugly pump , outside. House is two miles westward, and Eastward and southward stifetch the its loneliness is now relieved by troops brown wastes of the sandbflls, grim