ter that came the English.

It was only a few hours after the termination of our first lesson that
Landor's little maid entered the room laden with old folios, which she
deposited with the following pleasant note:--"As my young friend is
willing to become a grammarian, an old fellow sends her for her gracious
acceptance these books tending to that purpose." I was made rich,
indeed, by this generous donation, for there were a ponderous Latin
Dictionary in Landor's handwriting, a curious old Italian and French
Dictionary of 1692,--published at Paris, "per uso del Serenissimo
Delfino,"--a Greek Grammar, and a delightfully rare and musty old Latin
Grammar by Emmanuel Alvarus, the Jesuit, carefully annotated by Landor.
Then, too, there was a valuable edition, in two volumes, of Annibal
Caro's Italian translation of the AEneid, published at Paris in 1760, by
permission of "Louis, par le grace de Dieu Roi de France et de Navarre,"
and very copiously illustrated by Zocchi. Two noble coats-of-arms adorn
its fly-leaves, those of the Right Honorable Lady Mary Louther and of
George, Earl of Macartney, Knight of the Order of the White Eagle and of
the Bath.

The lessons, as pleasant as they were profitable, were given several
times a week for many weeks, and would have been continued still longer
had not a change of residence on our part rendered frequent meetings
impossible. On each appointed day Landor entered the room with a bouquet
of camellias or roses,--the products of his little garden, in which he
took great pride,--and, after presenting it with a graceful speech,
turned to the Latin books with infinite gusto, as though they reflected
upon him the light of other days. No voice could be better adapted to
the reading of Latin than that of Landor, who uttered the words with a
certain majestic flow, and sounding, cataract-like falls and plunges of
music. Occasionally he would touch upon the subject of Greek. "I wonder
whether I've forgotten all my Greek," he said one day. "It is so long
since I have written a word of it that I doubt if I can remember the
alphabet. Let me see." He took up pen and paper, and from Alpha to Omega
traced every letter with far more distinctness than he would have
written the English alphabet. "Why, Landor," he exclaimed, looking with
no little satisfaction on the work before him, "you have not grown as
foolish as I thought. You know your letters,--which proves that you are
in your second childhood, d