ough the other up to the tent
of the Pretender to the throne of Spain, bearing her petition for
her brother's release; which was granted, in acknowledgement of her
'renowned humanity to both conflicting armies,' as the words translated
by Dr. Glossop run. Certain it is she brought her wounded brother safe
home to England, and prisoners in that war usually had short shrift. For
three years longer she was the Countess of Fleetwood, 'widow of a living
suicide,' Mr. Rose Mackrell describes the state of the Marriage at that
period. No whisper of divorce did she tolerate.

Six months after it was proved that Brother Russett had perished of his
austerities, or his heart, we learn she said to the beseeching applicant
for her hand, Mr. Owain Wythan, with the gift of it, in compassion:
'Rebecca could foretell events.' Carinthia Jane had ever been ashamed
of second marriages, and the union with her friend Rebecca's faithful
simpleton gave it, one supposes, a natural air, for he as little as she
had previously known the wedded state. She married him, Henrietta has
written, because of his wooing her with dog's eyes instead of words. The
once famous beauty carried a wrinkled spot on her cheek to her grave;
a saving disfigurement, and the mark of changes in the story told you
enough to make us think it a providential intervention for such ends as
were in view.

So much I can say: the facts related, with some regretted omissions,
by which my story has so skeleton a look, are those that led to the
lamentable conclusion. But the melancholy, the pathos of it, the heart
of all England stirred by it, have been--and the panting excitement it
was to every listener--sacrificed in the vain effort to render events
as consequent to your understanding as a piece of logic, through an
exposure of character! Character must ever be a mystery, only to be
explained in some degree by conduct; and that is very dependent upon
accident: and unless we have a perpetual whipping of the tender part of
the reader's mind, interest in invisible persons must needs flag. For it
is an infant we address, and the storyteller whose art excites an infant
to serious attention succeeds best; with English people assuredly, I
rejoice to think, though I have to pray their patience here while that
philosophy and exposure of character block the course along a road
inviting to traffic of the most animated kind.

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