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Duchess of Kent, thought himself justified in placing his own name first. Sir H. Halford considering, from the position which he had held for so long a time in the medical profession, as well as from the circumstance of his being President of the College of Physicians, that he was fully entitled to be nominated as the queen's principal physician, had an interview with Lord Melbourne on the subject, who promised to mention the matter to her majesty, as well as to Sir James Clark. He accordingly did so, and Sir J. Clark's reply was, that he had no personal feeling in the matter-that he had a high respect for Sir H. Halford's eminent professional talents, and he had no objection to his name being placed at the head of the list, and if that was agreed to, his name should stand at the bottom. The subject was brought under the notice of her majesty, both by the prime minister and by Sir J. Clark; and the queen expressed her resolute determination to have her wishes complied with. She observed, As I am now queen, I expect that my views and private feelings should be consulted. Sir J. Clark has always been my physician, and shall remain so, in spite of every opposition, from whatever quarter it may origi



Finding that it was useless further to oppose the queen, Sir H. Halford withdrew his claim-Lord Melbourne bowed submission to the royal mandate -and Sir J. Clark was officially gazetted as the principal physician to the court.

"The late painful transaction connected with Lady Flora Hastings, has brought Sir James Clark's name prominently be fore the public, he having been much censured for the part which he has been represented to have taken in that delicate business. It is not our intention to vindicate the course which her majesty, and those connected with her, thought proper to adopt with reference to the lady in question; but we do think that the public, and particularly the press, has been a little too precipitate in passing judgment on the Queen's physician. The statement already published, it must be remembered, is but of an ex parte nature, and should consequently be viewed with suspicion. That Lady Flora has clearly and nobly vindicated her character cannot for one moment be questioned. The breath of calumny cannot affect her in the estimation of her family, her friends, or the public, whatever painful emotions the circumstance alluded to may excite in her own mind.

"Suspicions of a singular nature were afloat in the palace for some time before any communication was made to Sir J.

Clark. When he was requested to notice the circumstance, he properly cautioned the parties to be guarded in what they said, as there were many diseases productive of such appearances, which were calculated to mislead those unacquainted with medical matters. When the subject was mentioned to her majesty, she considered that it was incumbent on her to notice it; and accordingly_commanded Sir James Clark to communicate to Lady Flora her majesty's suspicion that she had been to use the Queen's own language privately married.' Lady Flora indignantly repelled the insinuation she at once saw was conveyed in such courtly phraseology; and the result of the indelicate investigation that ensued, proved the utter groundlessness of the report which gave rise to her majesty's surmise. The particulars of this unpleasant affair have acquired a publicity which, for the sake of all parties, it would have been more discreet to have suppressed; and to which we should not here allude, were it not to express our opinion that no blame can be justly imputed to Sir J. Clark for the part he took in the transaction; and, had it not been his anxious wish to avoid doing any thing to compromise the queen, he would, long ere this, have vindicated himself from the aspersions levelled against his character."

Had the writer of these volumes confined himself to a strictly biographical notice of the Court Physician, we should certainly have passed him by as we have done other and better men, in this chapter, but having, as he has done, ventured upon something like a defence of Sir James Clarke's conduct in the "late disgraceful affair," we with silence, to appear to concur in cannot permit ourselves, by treating it any of the observations made upon this business. "Save me from my friends," might well be Sir James' exclamation nate attempt at exculpation included, on reading it, for, even his own unfortua more miserable defence could scarcely be conceived. In his zeal for his friend, he has unfortunately proved too much; far more indeed than poor Sir James

himself could ever have dreamed of. "When he was requested to notice the circumstance"-that of Lady Flora's increased size-" he very properly cautioned the parties to be guarded in what they said, as there were many diseases productive of such appearances which were calculated to mislead those unacquainted with medical matters."Now this is the very thing Sir James

Clarke did not do. Not only did he omit this very plain and palpable line of duty, but he absolutely adopted its opposite, assuming all the suppositions of the "ladies" as true, and totally forgetting that "there were many diseases productive of such appearances as are calculated to mislead those unacquainted with medical matters," he took, most philosophically, the very least probable view of his patient's case; the one least supported by symptoms, the most repugnant to the well known character of Lady Flora, and finally, that which to a man of honour and character would only occur when every other possible supposition had been carefully canvassed and rejected.

The fatal dilemma that presses upon Sir James has no outlet of escape: Either that, as a medical man, he betrayed gross ignorance of his art, in rashly assuming as certain, a most dubious and difficult case, or what we suspect he would be very far from preferring, that knowing the real state of mat

ters he pandered to the base and unmanly scandals that were propagated in the palace to gratify the lovers of mischief and court intrigue,and now that the matter is over, attempts a lame and miserable defence-it being "his anxious wish"-we quote the words of the volume before us-" to avoid doing anything to compromise the Queen, or he would, long ere this, have vindicated himself from the aspersions levelled against his character."

Call you this backing your friends? Of ourselves we can only say, that we should prefer any neglect, any indif ference, any lukewarmness, almost any enmity itself, to the cruel infliction of such friendship.

We have done-"Physic and Phy sicians" so attractive to us from its title, has sadly disappointed our expectations; and we can only say, that however thankful for the intention of the author, we have much to regret in the manner of his volumes.




IT was late upon the following day ere I awoke from the long deep sleep that closed my labours in Strasbourg. In the confusion of my waking thoughts, I imagined myself still before a crowded and enthusiastic audience-the glare of the foot-lights-the crash of the orchestra the shouts of "l'Auteur," "l'Auteur," were all before me, and so completely possessed me, that, as the waiter entered with hot water, I could not resist the impulse to pull off my night-cap with one haud, and press the other to my heart in the usual theatrical style of acknowledgments for a most flattering reception. The startled look of the poor fellow, as he neared the door to escape, roused me from my hallucination, and awakened me to the conviction that the suspicion of lunacy might be a still heavier infliction than the personation of Monsieur Meerberger.

With thoughts of this nature, I assumed my steadiest demeanour. ordered my breakfast in the most orthodox fashion-eat it like a man in his senses; and when I threw myself back in the wicker conveniency they called a caleche, and bade adieu

to Kebl, the whole fraternity of the inn would have given me a certificate of sanity before any court in Europe.

"Now for Munich," said I, as we rattled along down the steep street of the little. town. Now for Munich, with all the speed that first of post masters and slowest of men, the Prince of Tour and Taxes, will afford us."

The future engrossed all my thoughts and puzzling as my late adventures had been to account for, I never for a moment reverted to the past. "Is she to be mine?" was the ever-rising question in my mind. The thousand difficulties that had crossed my path might long since have terminated a pursuit where there was so little of promise, did I not cherish the idea in my heart that I was fated to succeed. Sheridan answered the ribald sneers of his first auditory, by saying, "Laugh on; but I have it in me, and by it shall come out." So I whispered to myself-Go on, Harry. Luck has been hitherto against you, it is true; but you have yet one throw of the dice, and something seems to say, a fortu nate one in store; and, if so-but I cannot trust myself with such antici

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pations. I am well aware how little the world sympathises with the man whose fortunes are the sport of his temperament that April-day frame of mind is ever the jest and scoff of those hardier and sterner natures, who, if never overjoyed by success, are never much depressed by failure. That I have been cast in the former mould, these Confessions have, alas! plainly proyed; but that I regret it, I fear also, for my character for sound judgment, I must answer "No."

"Better far to be

In utter darkness lying,
Than be blest with light, and see

That light for ever flying,"

is, doubtless, very pretty poetry, but very poor philosophy. For myself and some glimpses of sunshine this fair world has afforded me, fleeting and passing enough, in all conscience and yet I am not so ungrateful as to repine at my happiness, because it was not permanent-as I am thankful for those bright hours of " Love's young dream," which, if nothing more, are at least delightful souvenirs. They form the golden thread in the tangled web of our existence, ever appearing amid the darker surface around, and throwing a fair halo of brilliancy on what, without it, were cold, bleak, and barren. No, no

"The light that lies

In woman's eyes,"

were it twice as fleeting-as it is ten times more brilliant-than the forked lightning, irradiates the dark gloom within us for many a long day after it has ceased to shine upon us. As in boyhood it is the humanizing influence that tempers the fierce and unruly passions of our nature, so in manhood it forms the goal to which all our better and higher aspirations tend, telling us there is something more worthy than gold, and a more lofty pinnacle of ambition than the praise and envy of our fellow-men; and we may rest assured, that when this feeling dies within us, that all the ideal of life dies with it, and nothing remains save the dull reality of our daily cares and occupations. "I have lived and have loved," saith Schiller; and if it were not that there seems some tautology in the phrase, I should say, such is my own motto. If Lady Jane but prove true-if I have really succeeded-if in a word But why speculate upon such chances? VOL. XIV.

what pretensions have I?—what reasons to look for such a prize? Alas! and alas! were I to catechise myself too closely, I fear that my horse's heads would face towards Calais, and that I should turn my back upon the only prospect of happiness I can picture to myself in this world. In reflections such as these, the hours rolled over, and it was already late at night when we reached the little village of Merchem. While fresh horses were being got ready, I seized the occasion to partake of the table d'hote supper of the inn, at the door of which the dilligence was drawn up. Aroud the long, and not over-scrupulously clean table, sat the usual assemblage of a German "Eilwagen"-smoking, dressing salad, knitting, and occasionally picking their teeth with their forks, until the soup should make its appearance. Taking my place amid this motly assemblage of mustachioed shopkeepers and voluminously-petticoated frows, I sat calculating how long human patience could endure such aroused by hearing a person near me companionship, when my attention was narrate to his friend the circumstances of my debut at Strasbourg, with certain marginal notes of his own, that not a little surprised me.

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"And so it turned out not to be Meerberger, after all," said the listener. "Of course not," replied the other. Meerberger's passport was stolen from him in the dilligence by this English escroc, and the consequence was, that our poor countryman was arrested, the other passport being found upon him; while the Englishman, proceeding to Strasbourg, took his benefit at the opera, and walked away with above twelve thousand florins."

"Sappermint," said the other, tossing off his beer. "He must have been a clever fellow, though, to lead the orchestra in the Franc Macons."

"That is the most astonishing part of all; for they say in Strasbourg that his performance upon the violin was far finer than Paganini's; but there seems some secret in it after all; for Madame Baptiste swears that he is Meerberger; and in fact the matter is far from being cleared up-nor can it be till he is apprehended."

"Which shall not be for some time to come," said I to myself, as, slipping noiselessly from the room, I regained my "caleche,” and in ten minutes more was proceeding on my journey. So much for correct information, thought I. One thing, however, is certain-to

2 Y

the chance interchange of passports I owe my safety, with the additional satisfaction that my little German acquaintance is reaping a pleasant retribution for all his worry and annoyance of me in the coupé.

Only he who has toiled over the weary miles of a long journey-exclusively occupied with one thought-one overpowering feeling-can adequately commiserate my impatient anxiety as the days rolled slowly over on the long tiresome road that leads from the Rhine to the south of Germany.

The morning was breaking on the fourth day of my journey, as the tall spires of Munich rose to my view, amid the dull and arid desert of sand that city is placed in. At last! was my exclamation, as the postillion tapped at the window with his whip, and then pointed towards the city. At last! Oh! what would be the extacy of my feelings now, could I exchange the torturing anxieties of suspense for the glorious certainty my heart throbs for; now my journey is nearing its end, to see me claim as my own what I now barely aspire to, in the sanguine hope of a heart that will not despair. But cheer up, Harry-it is a noble stake you play for, and it is ever the bold gambler that wins. Scarcely was this reflection made half aloud, when a sudden shock threw me from my seat. I fell towards the door, which, bursting open, launched me out upon the road, at the same moment that the broken axle-tree of the caleche had up. set it on the opposite side, carrying one horse along with it, and leaving the other, with the postillion on his back, kicking and plunging with all his might. After assisting the frightened fellow to dismount, and having cut the traces of the restive animal, I then perceived that in the meleé I had not escaped scatheless. I could barely stand; and, on passing my hand upon my instep, perceived I had sprained my ancle in the fall. The day was only breaking-no one was in sight so that after a few minutes' consideration, the best thing to do, appeared to get the other horse upon his legs, and despatching the postillion to Munich, then about three leagues distant, for a carriage, wait patiently on the roadside for his return. No sooner was the resolve made than carried into execution; and in less than a quarter of an hour from the moment of the accident, I was seated upon the bank, watching the retiring figure of the postillion, as

he disappeared down a hill on his way to Munich.

When the momentary burst of impatience was over, I could not help congratulating myself that I was so far fortunate in reaching the end of my journey ere the mischance befell me. Had it occurred at Stuttgard, I really think that it would have half driven me distracted.

I was not long in my present situa tion till a number of peasants, with broad-brimmed hats, and many buttoned coats, passed on their way to work. They all saluted me respectfully; but although they saw the broken carriage, and might well guess at the nature of my accident, yet not one ever thought of proffering his services, or even in dulging curiosity, by way of inquiry. "How thoroughly German," thought I; "these people are the Turks of Europe, stupified with tobacco and 'starkes bier.' They have no thought for any thing but themselves and their own immediate occupations." Perceiving, at length, one whose better dress and more intelligent look bespoke a rank above the common, I made the effort with such "platt deutsch" as I could muster, to ask if there were any house near, where I could remain till the postillion's return? and learned, greatly to my gratification, that by taking the path which led through a grove of pine trees near me, should find a chateau; but who was the proprietor he knew not; indeed the people were only newly come, and he believed were foreigners-English he thought. Oh, how my heart jumped as I said, "can they be the Callonbys? are they many in family? are there ladies-young ladies among them? He knew not. Having hastily arranged with my new friend to watch the carriage till my return, I took the path he showed me, and, smarting with pain at every step, hurried along as best I could towards the chateau. not walked many minutes, when a break in the wood gave me a view of the old mansion, and at once dispelled the illusion that was momentarily gain. ing upon me. They could not be the Callonbys." The house was old; and though it had once been a fine and handsome structure, exhibited now abundant traces of decay; the rich cornices which supported the roof had fallen in many places, and lay in frag ments upon the terrace beneath; the portico of the door was half tumbling; and the architraves of the windows were broken and dismantled; the tall and


I had

once richly ornamented chimneys were bereft of all their tracery, and stood bolt upright in all their nakedness; above the high pitched roof. A straggling jet d'eau was vigorously fighting its way amid a mass of creeping shrubs and luxuriant lichens, that had grown around and above a richly carved fountain, and fell in a shower of sparkling dew upon the rank grass and tall weeds around. The gentle murmur was the only sound that broke the stillness of the morning.

A few deities in lead and stone, mutilated and broken, stood like the genii loci, guarding the desolation about them, where an old, superannuated peacock, with drooping, ragged tail, was the only living thing to be seen. All bespoke the wreck of what once was great and noble, and all plainly told me that such could not be the abode of the Callonbys.

Half doubting that the house were inhabited, and half scrupling, if so, to disturb its inmates from their rest, I sat down upon the terrace steps, and fell into a fit of musing on the objects about. That strange propensity of my countrymen to settle down in remote and unfrequented spots upon the Continent, had never struck me so forcibly; for although unquestionably there were evident traces of the former grandeur of the place, yet it was a long past greatness; and in the dilapidated walls, broken statues, weed-grown walls, and dark and tangled pine grove, there were more hints for sadness than I should willingly surround myself by in a residence. The harsh grating of a heavy door behind roused me; I turned and beheld an old man in a species of tarnished and worm-caten livery, who, holding the door, again gazed at me with a mingled expression of fear and curiosity. Having briefly explained the circumstances which had befallen me, and appealed to the broken caleche upon the road to corroborate a testimony that I perceived needed such aid, the old man invited me to enter, saying that his master and mistress were not risen, but that he would himself give me some breakfast, of which by this time I stood much in want. The room into which I was ushered, corresponded well with the exterior of the house. It was large, bleak, and ill-furnishedthe ample, uncurtained windows, the cold, white-panelled walls, the uncarpeted floor, all giving it an air of uninhabitable misery. A few chairs of the Louis-quatrize taste, with blue

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The old man soon re-appeared with a not despicable cup of " Cafe noir," and a piece of bread as large as a teaspoon, and used by the Germans pretty much in the same way. As the adage of the " 'gift horse" is of tolerably general acceptation, I eat and was thankful, mingling my acknowledgments from time to time with some questions about the owners of the mansion, concerning whom I could not help feeling curious. The ancient servitor, however, knew little or nothing of those he served; his master was the honourable baron; but of his name he was ignorant; his mistress was young; they had not been many months there; they knew no one-had no visitors he had heard they were English, but did not know it himself; they were "gute leute," "good people," and that was enough for him. How strange did all this seem, that two people, young, too, should separate themselves from all the attractions and pleasures of the world, and settle down in the dark and dreary solitude, where every association was of melancholy, every object a text for sad reflections. Lost in these thoughts I sat down beside the window, and heeded not the old man as he noiselessly left the room. My thoughts ran on over the strange phases in which life presents itself, and how little, after all, external influences have to do with that peace of mind whose origin is within. The Indian, whose wigwam is beside the cataract, heeds not its thunders, nor feels its sprays as they fall in everlasting dews upon him; the Arab of the desert sees no bleakness in those never-ending, plains, upon whose horizon his eye has rested from childhood to age. Who knows but he who inhabits this lonely dwelling may have once shone in the gay world, mixing in its follies, tasting of its fascination ; and to think that now-the low murmurs of the pine tops, the gentle rustle of the water through the rank grass, and my own thoughts com

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