dogs" and
"land-critics," that our Resolute lexicographer prefixed to the
Enlarged Edition of his Dictionary and to his translation of
Montaigne, his portrait or effigies, engraved by Hole. This portrait
would, to a person unapprised of any peculiarity in the original,
present apparently little or nothing to justify the remark of
Cornwallis. But making due allowance for the address, if not the
flattery, of a skilful painter, it were hardly possible for the
observer, aware of the blemish, not to detect in the short and
close-curled fell of hair, the wild, staring eyes, the contour of
the visage,--which, expanding from the narrow and wrinkled forehead
into cheek-bones of more than Scottish amplitude, suddenly contracts
to a pointed chin, rendered still more acute by a short, peaked beard,
--not to detect in this lozenge-shaped visnomy and its air, at once
haggard and grotesque, traits that not only bear out the remark of
his pupil, but the raillery also of the court wits in Shakespeare's
dramatic satire.

Whatever happiness Rose Daniel may have had in the domestic virtues
of her lord, his relations with the world, his temper, eccentricities,
and personal appearance could have given her little. That he was an
attached and affectionate husband his last will and testament gives
touching _post-mortem_ evidence.

Let us return to the fortunes of the faithless Rosalinde. It appears
she married Menalcas,--the treacherous friend and rival of the
"passionate shepherd." Who, then, was Menalcas? or why was this name
specially selected by our poet to designate the man he disliked?

The pastoral name Menalcas is obviously and pointedly enough adopted
from the Eclogues of Virgil; in which, by comparing the fifteenth
line of the second with the sixty-sixth of the third, we shall find
he was the rival who (to use the expression of Spenser) "by treachery
did underfong" the affections of the beautiful Alexis from his
enamored master. In this respect the name would well fit Florio, who,
from his intimacy with the Daniels and their friends, could not but
have known the passion of the poet, and the encouragement at one
time given him by his fickle mistress.

Again, there was at this time prevalent a French conceit,--"imported,"
as Camden tells us, "from Calais, and so well liked by the English,
although most ridiculous, that, learned or unlearned, he was nobody
that could not hammer out of his name an invention by this wit-craft,
and _p