EDITOR'S PERPLEXITIES.

463

the work comes to another edition, we would recommend it to him to add a few dates on the margin, to break his pages into more paragraphs, and to revise his punctuation. He would make the book infinitely more saleable, too, if, without making the slightest variation in what is retained, he would omit about 200 pages of the siege of Nottingham, and other parish business; especially as the whole is now put beyond the reach of loss or corruption by the present full publication.

Memoirs of LADY FANSHAWE, Wife of the Right Honourable Sir Richard Fanshawe, Baronet, Ambassador from Charles the Second to the Court of Madrid in 1665. Written by Herself. To which are added, Extracts from the Correspondence of Sir Richard Fanshawe. 8vo. pp. 360. London: 1829.

THERE is not much in this book, either of individual character, or public story. It is, indeed, but a small affair-any way; but yet pleasing, and not altogether without interest or instruction. Though it presents us with no traits of historical importance, and but few of personal passion or adventure, it still gives us a peep at a scene of surpassing interest from a new quarter; and at all events adds one other item to the great and growing store of those contemporary notices which are every day familiarizing us more and more with the living character of by-gone ages; and without which we begin, at last, to be sensible, that we can neither enter into their spirit, nor even understand their public transactions. Writings not meant for publication, nor prepared for purposes of vanity or contention, are the only memorials in which the true "form and pressure" of the ages which produce them are ever completely preserved; and, indeed, the only documents from which the great events which are blazoned on their records can ever be satisfactorily explained. It is in such writings alone,— confidential letters-private diaries-family anecdotes -and personal remonstrances, apologies, or explanations, that the true springs of actions are disclosedas well as the obstructions and impediments, whether in the scruples of individuals or the general temper of society, by which their operation is so capriciously, and, but for these revelations, so unaccountably controlled. They are the true key to the cipher in which public annals are almost necessarily written; and their disclo

COMPARED WITH MRS. HUTCHINSON.

465

sure, after long intervals of time, is almost as good as the revocation of their writers from the dead to abide our interrogatories, and to act over again, before us, in the very dress and accents of the time, a portion of the scenes which they once guided or adorned. It is not a very striking portion, perhaps, that is thus recalled by the publication before us; but whatever interest it possesses is mainly of this character. It belongs to an era, to which, of all others in our history, curiosity will always be most eagerly directed; and it constantly rivets our attention, by exciting expectations which it ought, in truth, to have fulfilled; and suggesting how much more interesting and instructive it might so easily have been made.

Lady Fanshawe was, as is generally known, the wife of a distinguished cavalier, in the Heroic Age of the civil wars and the Protectorate; and survived till long after the Restoration. Her husband was a person of no mean figure in those great transactions; and she, who adhered to him with the most devoted attachment, and participated not unworthily in all his fortunes and designs, was, consequently, in continual contact with the movements which then agitated society; and had her full share of the troubles and triumphs which belonged to such an existence. Her memoirs ought, therefore, to have formed an interesting counterpart to those of Mrs. Hutchinson; and to have recalled to us, with equal force and vivacity, the aspect under which those great events presented themselves to a female spectatress and sufferer, of the opposite faction. But, though the title of the book, and the announcements of the editor, hold out this promise, we must say that the body of it falls far short of performance: and, whether it be that her side of the question did not admit of the same force of delineation or loftiness of sentiment; or, that the individual chronicler has been less fortunately selected, it is certain that, in point both of interest and instruction, in traits of character, warmth of colouring, or exaltation of feeling, there is no sort of comparison between these gossiping, and, though affectionate, yet relatively cold

466

LADY FANSHAWE-NOT NATURALLY A POLITICIAN.

and feeble memoranda, and the earnest, eloquent, and graphic representations of the puritan heroine. Nor should it be forgotten, even in hinting at such a parallel, that, in one important respect, the royalist cause also must be allowed to have been singularly happy in its female representative. Since, if it may be said with some show of reason, that Lucy Hutchinson and her husband had too many elegant tastes and accomplishments to be taken as fair specimens of the austere and godly republicans; it certainly may be retorted, with at least equal justice, that the chaste and decorous Lady Fanshawe, and her sober diplomatic lord, shadow out rather too favourably the general manners and morals of the cavaliers.

After all, perhaps, the true secret of her inferiority, in all at least that relates to political interest, may be found in the fact, that the fair writer, though born and bred a royalist, and faithfully adhering to her husband in his efforts and sufferings in the cause, was not naturally, or of herself, particularly studious of such matters; or disposed to occupy herself more than was necessary with any public concern. She seems to have followed, like a good wife and daughter, where her parents or her husband led her; and to have adopted their opinions with a dutiful and implicit confidence, but without being very deeply moved by the principles or passions which actuated those from whom they were derived; while Lucy Hutchinson not only threw her whole heart and soul into the cause of her party, but, like Lady Macbeth or Madame Roland, imparted her own fire to her more phlegmatic helpmate,-"chastised him," when necessary, "with the valour of her tongue," and cheered him on, by the encouragement of her high example, to all the ventures and sacrifices, the triumphs or the martyrdoms, that lay visibly across her daring and lofty course. The Lady Fanshawe, we take it, was of a less passionate temperament; and her book, accordingly, is more like that of an ordinary woman, though living in extraor dinary times.. She begins, no doubt, with a good deal of love and domestic devotion, and even echoes, from

MARVELS IN HER FAMILY.

467

that sanctuary, certain notes of loyalty; but, in very truth, is chiefly occupied, for the best part of her life, with the sage and serious business of some nineteen or twenty accouchemens, which are happily accomplished in different parts of Europe; and seems, at last, to be wholly engrossed in the ceremonial of diplomatic presentations, -the description of court dresses, state coaches, liveries, and jewellery, the solemnity of processions, and receptions by sovereign princes, and the due interchange of presents and compliments with persons of worship and dignity. Fully one third of her book is taken up with such goodly matter; and nearly as much with the genealogy of her kindred, and a faithful record of their marriages, deaths, and burials. From the remainder, however, some curious things may be gathered; and we shall try to extract what strikes us as most characteristic. We may begin with something that preceded her own recollection. The following singular legend relates to her mother; and is given, it will be observed, on very venerable authority:

"Dr. Howlsworth preached her funeral sermon, in which, upon his own knowledge, he told, before many hundreds of people, this accident following: That my mother, being sick to death of a fever three months after I was born, which was the occasion she gave me suck no longer, her friends and servants thought, to all outward appearance, that she was dead, and so lay almost two days and a night; but Dr. Winston, coming to comfort my father, went into my mother's room, and looking earnestly on her face, said she was so handsome, and now looks so lovely, I cannot think she is dead; and suddenly took a lancet out of his pocket, and with it cut the sole of her foot, which bled. Upon this, he immediately caused her to be laid upon the bed again and to be rubbed, and such means, as she came to life, and opening her eyes, saw two of her kinswomen stand by her, my Lady Knollys and my Lady Russell, both with great wide sleeves, as the fashion then was, and said, Did you not promise me fifteen years, and are you come again already? which they not understanding, persuaded her to keep her spirits quiet in that great weakness wherein she then was; but, some hours after, she desired my father and Dr. Howlsworth might be left alone with her, to whom she said, I will acquaint you, that, during the time of my trance, I was in great quiet, but in a place I could neither distinguish nor describe; but the sense of leaving my girl, who is dearer to me than all my children, remained a trouble upon my spirits. Suddenly I saw two by me, cloathed in long white garments, and methought I fell down with my face in the dust; and they asked me why I was troubled in so great happiness. I replied,