oke made." Had his intellect been
more luxurious, his resolution might have been less hardy; and his
hardiness made his greatness. He was one of those who shine but in
action,--chimneys (to adapt the simile of Sir Thomas More) that seem
useless till you light your fire. So in calm moments you dreamed not
of his utility, and only on the road you were struck dumb with the
outbreaking of his genius. Whatever situation he was called to, you
found in hire what you looked for in vain in others; for his strong
sense gave to Attie what long experience ought, but often fails, to
give to its possessors. His energy triumphed over the sense of novel
circumstance, and he broke in a moment through the cobwebs which
entangled lesser natures for years. His eye saw a final result, and
disregarded the detail. He robbed his man without chicanery; and took
his purse by applying for it rather than scheming. If his enemies
wish to detract from his merit,--a merit great, dazzling, and yet
solid,--they may, perhaps, say that his genius fitted him better to
continue exploits than to devise them; and thus that, besides the renown
which he may justly claim, he often wholly engrossed that fame which
should have been shared by others: he took up the enterprise where it
ceased at Labour, and carried it onwards, where it was rewarded with
Glory. Even this charge proves a new merit of address, and lessens not
the merit less complicated the have allowed him before. The fame he
has acquired may excite our emulation; the envy he has not appeased may
console us for obscurity.

A stanza of Greek poetry--Thus, not too vigorously, translated by Mr.
West,--

"But wrapped in error is the human mind, And human bliss is ever
insecure--Know we what fortune shall remain behind? Know we how long the
present shall endure?"

GENTLEMAN GEORGE.

For thee, Gentleman George, for thee, what conclusive valediction
remains? Alas! since we began the strange and mumming scene wherein
first thou went introduced, the grim foe hath knocked thrice at thy
gates; and now, as we write,--[In 1830]--thou art departed thence,--thou
art no more! A new lord presides to thine easy-chair, a new voice rings
from thy merry board,--thou art forgotten! thou art already, like these
pages, a tale that is told to a memory that retaineth not! Where are
thy quips and cranks; where thy stately coxcombries and thy regal
gauds? Thine house and thy pagoda, thy Gothic ch