visions have fled like the morning cloud: I have entered the crowded ball-room; mingled with the train of orators and statesmen; and returned fevered with disappointment, to search again for repose in the bosom of the forest, where alone it could be found. In this situation I now am. After having once given the reins to poetical fancy, it is difficult indeed to stop its career; and I remain at present - in doubt whether to struggle against its influence, by mingling again with the world, or to follow, without further hesitation, the precepts contained in an epigram of Martial, elegantly translated in a late number of your essays.

It was my intention to wind up this letter with a very juvenile effusion in verse, which seemed not inapplicable to the present subject; but recollecting that a copy of these verses may exist in the possession of a friend, I dread the risk, (notwithstanding my insignificance) of becoming in any degree known, until I find what reception you may give to this feeble and hurried transcript of my feelings.

May 9, 1809.

Yours,

MUSARUM AMATOR.

N° LXXIV.

On the Love of Retirement expressed by great men→→ and on some Traits in the Character of Algernon Sydney.

ALGERNON SYDNEY writes to his father from Frascati in Italy, in June 1661: "Here are walks and fountains in the greatest perfection; and though my natural delight in solitude is very much increased this last year, I cannot desire to be more alone than I am, and hope to continue. My conversation is with birds, trees, and books. In these last months that I have had no business at all, I have applied myself to study a little more than I have done formerly; and though one who begins at my age, cannot hope to make any considerable progress that way, I find so much satisfaction in it, that for the future I shall very unwillingly (though I had the opportunity) put myself into any way of living that shall deprive me of that entertainment. Whatsoever hath been formerly the object of my thoughts and desires, I have now intention of seeking very little more than quietness and retirement." How much alike does nature speak at all times

in the bosoms of great men. The late Mr. Windham writes from his retirement at Felbrigg in Norfolk, Sept. 16, 1809, in answer to a report of changes in the administration, which might bring him into office:

"I am living a most wholesome life here, and in many respects a most pleasant and useful onepleasant, as I can recur to pursuits long laid aside, but very ill calculated to prepare me for a return to public life; and useful, as I am getting things into order, both within doors and without."

Again, Sept. 20. "The habits of life here, are not a good preparation for a return to office, though the health is."

Again, Dec. 18. "I shall come to London very reluctantly, having during this recess indulged myself so much in other pursuits, and contracted, by one means or another, so strong a dislike to the politics of the times, that I am by no means in a frame of mind favourable for the commencement of a parliamentary session. The air of the country however will do something, if not to dispose me more to business, at least to render me more capable of it." g

No mind of keen feelings and high attainments probably ever existed without this occasional desire

Memoir prefixed to Windham's Speeches by Amyot.

and zest for retirement. Disgust at the numerous follies, treacheries, and crimes of the world; a wish to ruminate on the intellectual treasures which have been collected; and even the simple love of quiet, and silence, have generated this passion. To Algernon Sydney, to whose severe and haughty spirit the intrigues and forms of courts must always have been odious, when added to it danger and persecution followed every public step he trod, how inexpressibly grateful must have been such a retreatgrateful at least for a time, till it had lost the charm of novelty, and he felt his strength revived for new enterprizes.

It seems indeed apparent that incontrolable ambition, the fault of glorious minds, was his! A melancholy and indignation, which almost always are produced by the disappointments attendant on such tempers, marked his character. Powerful both in intellect and spirit; of deep reflection, unbending virtue, and persevering labour, he seems to have been born for a pre-eminence in the conduct of worldly affairs, which he never attained.

His fate in life was peculiarly hard. Many years in poverty and in exile, he bore not only the neglect of the world, but even of his own family. He writes to his father from Brussels, in Dec. 1663; "The first favour that I ever did ask, and the least that I ever can ask, (I mean assurance of being

permitted to live quietly for a few months at Penshurst) not having been granted, I am likely to make few requests for the future."

At length, his father, Robert second earl of Leicester, being desirous to see him before he died, leave was procured for his return to England, in 1677. In 1683 he was tried for high treason, on pretence of being concerned in the Rye-House Plot; and on the 21st of Nov. was found guilty, by the most infamous sentence that disgraces the annals of his country. He suffered death with the most heroic fortitude, Dec. 7, 1683, aged about 61. The veneration of posterity has embalmed his memory, and consecrated his blood.

When I walked the other day along the galleries of Penshurst, and his stern countenance met me in almost every room, I looked with awe and trembling on the expression of those virtues, which are so little likely to appear again! Twice did his fearful image seem to cross me, half frowning, half smiling, as I sauntered along the solitary hall; and twice did I see it gliding along the garden terrace, through the little gateway in the wall to the adjoining church where his bones repose!

"In death," methought I heard him say, 66 my mangled remains, you see, are permitted to rest in this dear native soil, whence I was excluded for so many years of my unfortunate life. These deep