e, or the
decapitation of Charles. Much less, if he would have selected those two
instances as the triumph of mind over matter."

"But," said Sir John, "you forget that Akenside professedly adopts the
language of Cicero in his second Philippic." He then read the note
beginning with, Caesare interfecto, etc.

"True," said I; "I am not arguing the matter as a point of fact, but as
a point of just application. I pass over the comparison of Brutus with
Jove, which by the way would have become Tully better than Akenside, but
which Tully would have perhaps thought too bold. Cicero adorns his
oration with this magnificent description. He relates it as an event,
the other uses it as an illustration of that to which I humbly conceive
it does not exactly apply. The orator paints the violent death of a
hero; the poet adopts the description of the violent death, or rather of
the stroke which caused it, to illustrate the perfection of intellectual
grandeur. After all, it is as much a party question as a poetical one. A
question on which the critic will be apt to be guided in his decision by
his politics rather than by his taste. The splendor of the passage,
however, will inevitably dazzle the feeling reader, till it produce the
common effect of excessive brightness, that of somewhat blinding the
beholder."

CHAPTER IX.

While we were thus pleasantly engaged, the servant announced Mrs.
Fentham; and a fashionable looking woman, about the middle of life,
rather youthfully dressed, and not far from handsome, made her
appearance. Instead of breaking forth into the usual modish jargon, she
politely entered into the subject in which she found us engaged; envied
Lady Belfield the happiness of elegant quiet, which she herself might
have been equally enjoying at her own house, and professed herself a
warm admirer of poetry. She would probably have professed an equal
fondness for metaphysics, geometry, military tactics, or the Arabic
language, if she had happened to have found us employed in the study of
either.

From poetry the transition to painting was easy and natural. Mrs.
Fentham possessed all the phraseology of connoisseurship, and asked me
if I was fond of pictures. I professed the delight I took in them in
strong, that is in true terms. She politely said that Mr. Fentham had a
very tolerable collection of the best masters, and particularly a
Titian, which she would be happy to have the honor of showing me next
morning.