Charles Brandon, and the armor of John of Gaunt, all of which are adapted to the person and use of Lucy Hawkins, who sets forth, thus armed, to head the expedition for the rescue of Smithers, relying on a prophetic rhyme

"When a black man is in a tower white,

By a virgin, wielding the sword of a knight,
His enemies will be put to flight,

And Valor will link with Beauty bright."

Accompanied by Sam Hodges, Prince Esterhazy, and Lord Cochrane, and assisted by all the discontented in London-Irish, Jewish, Refugees, Americans, Germans, and Cockneys-the fair Amazon assaults the Tower, which is bravely defended by the Duke. Here there occurs a good parody on Coleridge's manner and style of talking

"She was right in all she said.

"The Jews, while the other armies were engaged, had been actively employing their jemmies in picking the lock of a low sally-port, and after some time, had succeeded. They emerged, jemmy in hand, shouting as we have already observed, and as Harriette remarked, their ancient war-cry of Clo, clo.' The part where they entered was slightly guarded, and they drove in the picquets before them. A parting shot, however, from a catapult, hastily erected by Mr. Galloway, who had just deserted from the Greeks, hit Coleridge in the forehead, and in a few moments he breathed his last. He died as he had lived.

"We are told,' slowly snuffled he, 'that the swan floating upon the beautiful bosom of the river Cayster, emits its musical note once only, and that once, when seized upon by the icy and inevitable hand of death. It is a magnificent and sublime fiction, if it be a fiction, which I doubt; for the marvellous of nature hath always appeared to me much more probable than what the prosaic men of an unpoetic age have looked upon to be the common and every-day workings of human life- - as if they, prosaic as they are, and regarding things merely as they are in detail, without referring to the original impulses, the holy radiances, the metaphysical naturalities, from which all things flow, could tell whether any thing in detail, even that which they saw before them existing, existed or not; much less were the every-day workings of that incomprehensible thing, called life or not—I say, waving further discussion on this parenthetical point, I mean parenthetical in form, though thematic in substance, and taking it for granted, protesting for ever, nevertheless, against the assumption, that it is merely a fiction-it is one of those sublime and magnificent fictions, which in their essence TRUTH, are by their adornment exalted into something not greater than truth; for truth is greatest; but into something which, by the strangeness of the garb, i. e. the imaginative clothings in which it is conveyed, is calculated to take a firmer hold upon the mind, than if that which it meant supposing it a mere alle

D

gorical fiction, an interpretation against which I have already protested - had been conveyed in its abstract form, viz., that pure souls, typified by white swans, never utter such words of hope and glory, typified by song, as at the moment of death. Therefore, as I shall explain hereafter-but, for God's sake, a glass of brandy and water- - therefore, when we consider the ramifications of idea, that idiosyn

"He died: Gillman, of Highgate, sorrowed at his death: and the grief descended the hill as far as the Castle, the hotel of the ingenious Carter, as thou enterest the slope of Kentish Town."

Lucy and her lover escape through the Thames Tunnel, safely reaching the Surrey side. The Meg Merrilies old woman is discovered to be the grandmother of Smithers, and then happily dies.. A prince of the blood-royal presides at the nuptials. Here follows the main dénouement a hyperbole of incident certainly as novel as ingenious :

"The bliss of our lovers may be more easily conceived than described, and we shall not therefore nndertake the task. They prepared to follow the Bishop, when the attention of all was turned away from every thing else, by a cry of unparalleled agony, which seemed to issue from the bottom of the river. So dire a cry never burst upon human ear. Every eye looked toward the stream, and there a scene of wonder was before them. It seemed as if a convulsion had taken place, for its bosom was heaving and swelling with unwonted throes. On the topmost eddy whirled, round and round, a cock-boat, containing two persons, who labored might and main to escape from the infuriated waters. In a moment all was smooth again, but the boat was gone. A hundred yachts were immediately launched, to endeavor to save the devoted passengers, when it suddenly submerged from the waters, and made toward the shore where the Ducal party was standing. As it neared the land, the cockswain was discovered to be Lord Goderich, and his companion the Duke of Wellington. Cæsar and his master intuitively hid themselves behind a tree. 'Aye'- said Lord Goderich, on landing-'Aye, choke the scoundrels, they are done, I fancy. Pretty considerably water-logged, the ruffians. Devil sweep 'em."

"Amen!' responded the Duke; "but I am wet through and through. Whom have we here? Ah! Gloucester, my boy, give us the fist.'

"His Royal Highness, who had not heard, except vaguely, from Smithers, any thing of the attack, naturally inquired of the Duke an account of the strange sight he had seen, and his Grace detailed to him what he knew. We take up the story where we left it.

'When, by the manoeuvring of the Duke, the whole of the attacking army was hemmed up in the defile between the two ramparts, and had no way of escape victory was now hopeless but, laterally, to the right, to their great astonishment and joy, the gate which kept them in on that quarter was opened; it was a part of the Duke's stratagem. The devoted host rushed blindly through this pass, this whole Ducal army urging them in the rear,

through a winding defile, where many a life was lost in their hasty retreat. This passage led to the Tunnel, and into that deadly hollow the fugitives fled pell-mell. The Duke was prepared for this, and while Smithers was in conversation with his Royal Highness, Brunel and Beamish, with five hundred masons, had passed over, and in a few minutes built up an impenetrable wall at the further end. The silver gates were closed at the near end; and, by cutting off the pipes that conveyed the gaseous naphtha, the wretched invaders were in total darkness. The Tunnel was hermetically sealed, and escape was impossible.

"Many perished by the hands of their friends - others were trod to death; but the remainder was not destined long to continue alive.

"Five hundred pounds,' said the Duke, 'to any man, who will go in a boat and pull out the central plug of the Tunnel, and let in the water on these villains.'

"No one answered, for it was evident that the man who attempted it would do so at the hazard of his life. After a pause, the Duke said, 'he would go for one, but who will steer?'

"I,' said Lord Goderich, 'I. I do not think I was born to be drowned.' "Valiant man,' said the Duke, and embraced him in front of the army. A life-boat was instantly launched. Lord Goderich took the helm, and the Duke, pulling a pair of sculls, came to the spot where the existence of the plug was indicated by a buoy, surmounted by a flag. Why conceal the fact? Iron as were the nerves of the Lord High Constable, he hesitated for a moment; but at last, saying something about Curtius, he seized the ring of the plug, and, exerting all his strength, tore up the key-stone of the arch. A mighty gush of waters followed - -a cry of agony and despair rung from the wretched inmates of the Tunnel, and affrighted the very birds. In a minute the Tunnel was full, and, in another minute, Jew, German, and American, had ceased to exist. In a century afterward, their bones were gathered into a catacomb, with an inscription in heroic verse, from the classical pen of Professor Millman:

66

'Reader, you here behold the bones,

Of people gone to Davy Jones.

'Neath father Thames's whelming tide,

Poor rogues! like puppies blind, they died.

Out of the bore by Brunel dug,

Duke Wellington he pulled the plug,

And drowned the tottle of them snug."

Smithers' father had perished, it seemed, through the misconduct of a high official. He sought justice from the law :—

"And the Colonial Secretary was destined to die for the atrocious deed. Here, however, occurred a difficulty. What Colonial Secretary was to die? the man in office at the time the murder was committed, or the present functionary? And there was a vast contention among the lawyers thereupon. "At last Lord Lyndhurst pronounced judgment.

"It is plain," said that great lawyer, 'it must be the present Secretary. A man taking a house, of which the taxes have not been paid, is bound to pay up the arrears of his predecessor. An heir to an estate must answer the liens laid upon it by the former owner. If a person strike a man in the King's presence and evade for ten years, his hand is cut off at the end of the period, though it be altered in bone, muscle and sinew. So, if A. B. commit a murder, and escape for five-and-twenty years, he is hanged, though (see case of Sir John Cutler, in Term. Rep. Mart. Scrib.) he is a changed man in body, and perhaps in mind. But the principle is laid down distinctly by Lord Coke, in his Institutes, with the peculiar elegance of the Latin style of that great man. Qui capit," says his Lordship, "qui capit advantagios, sumit quoque disadvantagios:" that is, he who touches the cash on quarter-day, must submit to be badgered occasionally. The judgment of the Court is, that Lord Bathurst be dismissed from the bar, and that Mr. Huskisson be hanged. Fiat instanter. Look to him, jailor. Hoc pro warranto. Hanged by the neck.' "Huskisson was taken away in an agony of terror. He offered to do anything, to peach, to turn informer but this procured him nothing but an order from Lord Goderich to have him gagged. The anticolonial party, however, were too strong not to make a struggle. When they found it impossible to save their friend, they said it was only fair that they too should have a victim. Conciliation being the order of the day, it was resolved, on the usual principle of the then government, that neither party should have a triumph, and after some deliberation it was determined, that when Mr. Huskisson was hanged, Cæsar should suffer also for the sake of uniformity. To this arrangement, Cæsar made many objections, but his master convinced him of the absurdity of his scruples, and he submitted."

The execution, which is described fully, closes the story, of which the extracts here given are average specimens. For my own part, I consider it rather one of the curiosities of literature than a favorable, or indeed a fair sample of Dr. Maginn's ability. As the volume is so remarkably rare as to be very seldom met, even in England, I have quoted more in extenso than I should otherwise have done.

That Dr. Maginn was the veritable Ensign and Adjutant Morgan O'Doherty of Blackwood's Magazine was generally known among the reading public. Known to publishers and newspaper-proprietors was the fact also, so that Maginn had as much to do as he desired. The fun and frolic of the erudite and facetious Standard-Bearer had become concentrated by this time, as far as the distinct individuality of O'Doherty was concerned, in the splendid series of imaginary dialogues, at once wise and witty, which, under the name of NOCTES AMBROSIANE, graced the pages of Blackwood's Magazine, from March, 1822, to February, 1835.

John Abernethy, the surgeon, was wont to economize time and trouble by referring his patients to such and such pages of his Book. I may

be pardoned, I trust, if— at a very long-removed distance—I refer to my own edition of the NOCTES, for a particular account* of the origin and history of that celebrated series. Here, it is only necessary to glance at it, in connexion with Maginn's share in the authorship.

In Blackwood, for August and September, 1819, appeared a very extended article,† entitled "Christopher in the Tent," principally written by Wilson and Lockhart. A variety of real and imaginary characters were introduced, as interlocutors, including Christopher North, Morgan O'Doherty, the Ettrick Shepherd, Dr. Morris (Lockhart's nom de plume as author of "Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk”), Timothy Tickler, Buller of Brazenose, Seward of Christchurch, Kemperferhausen (R. P. Gillies), and others—all of whom were subsequently introduced at the Round-Table in The Noctes. I believe that the late Major Hamilton (“Cyril Thornton") wrote up the characteristic sayings and doings of O'Doherty, for "The Tent,” but that the Chant-The Powldoodies of Burran"- was written by Maginn himself. In subsequent numbers of Blackwood, the far-famed gathering in "The Tent" was often referred to, but no attempt to follow it up was made until nearly three years after. Maginn is entitled to the credit of having commenced, if he did not actually originate, THE NOCTES AMBROSIANÆ proper.

In the summer of 1821, as has already been stated, Dr. Maginn visited Edinburgh, where he became intimately acquainted, not only with Mr. Blackwood (whose guest he was) but also with Wilson, Lockhart, Hogg, Gillies, Hamilton, and other principal writers in the Magazine. With them, as a matter of course, he had many a merry afternoon and jovial evening, at their obscure, but since world-renowned hostelrie in Gabriel's Road,§ kept by Mr. Ambrose. Some months later, he paid a flying visit to London. On his return to Cork he composed the first Number of The NOCTES, which was published in MAGA, for March, 1822, and combines his Edinburgh and London impressions.

In an account of a breakfast with Professor Wilson (somewhat graphically written by Mr. N. P. Willis), the veritable "Christopher North" is made to say that the first Number of the Noctes Ambrosiane was written

* Noctes Ambrosianæ, vol. i. pp. xi.-xv.; Vol. ii. pp. xxi. and the Notes passim.

† Noctes Ambrosianæ, vol. i. pp. 1-128.

Ibid. vol. i. pp. 98-100; Odoherty Papers, vol. i. pp. 84-89.

This street, or lane, which derived its name from a murder committed there by a tutor named Gabriel, is situated in the vicinity of West Register street, at the back of the east end of Prince's street, and close to the Regis ter Office, Edinburgh.