mission, to compose a set of violin quartetts, was sent him by Prince Nicholas Galitzin, from Russia, couched in the most flattering terms. The work was undertaken, and pursued with the utmost care. To fulfil the commission, Beethoven laid aside some projected works of the highest classamongst which was the composition of Goethe's Faust; and the quartetts were, at last, completed and despatched. The prince admired them-wrote for explanations of various passages, and at length declared himself perfectly informed, and satisfied. But the stipulated reward was in vain applied for; and the composer remained a loser of his precious time and of the cost of the copyist's labours, and of the expensive correspondence with this pattern of Russian ostentation and meanness. It is proper that such acts should be recorded, for the abiding disgrace of the offender; and the lovers of art will never forgive the author of a deceit which deprived the world of compositions that no one after Beethoven might dare to undertake. This was almost the last mortification which he was destined to experience; for the last fruitless application to the prince was in December 1826, when sickness had rendered him necessitous and unable to continue his labours, never afterwards resumed.

deathbed. The dropsical symptoms resisted all attempts to relieve him; and he encountered the approach of death with cheerful and religious composure. After deliberately making his will, he received the sacraments of the Church on the 24th. On the same day the last struggle, which was terrible and obstinate, began; nor was he finally released until the 26th of March, when he expired amidst the tumult of an unusually fierce storm, which was rolling over the town as his troubled spirit departed-a close not inaptly resembling his destiny in life. A stranger, or at least a mere acquaintance from Gratz, who had hastened to visit Beethoven before he died, was the only person present in his last moments; his friends Von Breuning and Schindler, who had been in attendance during his sickness, having left the house on some mission concerning the arrangements for his funeral. When they returned, his troubles were at an end! Surely it is no exaggeration to say, that there is a deep tragedy exhibited in this solitary death scene: untended by kindred, unwept by household love, and darkened by ingratitude and neglect: the miserable farewell which the world afforded to one of its noblest ornaments, more cold and blank than it gives to many whose career has only been marked by mischief and disgrace!

Beethoven died at the age of fifty-six years and

of the village of Währing, at a short distance from Vienna, in the Alster district of the suburbs. The funeral ceremony was attended by more than twenty thousand persons; and in the respect paid to his remains, the citizens of Vienna testified a regret that was general throughout Europe. With him the list of great German composers was closed -nor is it likely that any successor to his place will appear in our day.

He languished throughout the winter months with no improvement; all his resources were ex-three months; and now rests in the burial-ground hausted, excepting the small investment already named; he was too proud to ask for aid at the hands of his neighbours, who had neglected him; and yet his want of money was pressing. In this strait, he bethought him of the former offers of the London Philharmonic Society; and addressed to them, through Moscheles, a request that they would fulfil the design of a concert for his benefit, promising to write a new symphony, in return for this favour, as soon as his state permitted it. The conduct of the English musicians, on this occasion, was both liberal and delicate. They at once requested his acceptance of £100, offering to send more, if required; with expressions which bespoke their respect and sympathy for the great composer.* The reply arrived in time only to soothe the last moments of Beethoven, who was now rapidly sinking. On the 18th of March, 1827, he dictated an acknowledgment, literally from his

The length to which the present notice has run, forbids any further attempt to complete, by general observations, the picture of which the scattered traits only have been hitherto exhibited. We must, therefore, reluctantly conclude, yet not without hope that the imperfect sketch will be sufficient to interest all those who are capable of reverence for the memory of genius, and of sympathy for the afflictions which are too often its portion on this earth.

V.

* Some German writers have complained of the ver- diate difficulties; and, with the fear of long sickness sion current respecting this gift; the facts, however, are before him, rather turned for help to foreigners, who as above stated. They say that Beethoven did not want had already evinced their respect for him, than to those alms, or, had he needed them, his own countrymen by whom he felt himself unduly neglected. They canwould have been proud to afford them. It is, neverthe- not deprive England of the just credit of this becoming less, true, that although not penniless, he was in imme-act, which Beethoven fully appreciated.

BEHOLD! the Sun, above yon rugged steep,
Bursts in its first red glory, like a bride
Leaving the pillow of her restless sleep

All bathed in blushes, in the wedded pride

Of bashfulness and beauty! Soft the air

SONNET.

The innocent doves, that infant cooings make
To hail the birth of day. Should sullen wo
At such a time sit on the selfish breast,
While Nature spreads o'er earth a loveful glow
To image and fortell the glorious rest

Comes breathing through these laurels, loath to wake Of AFTER-LIFE? Oh, for that scene in vain

The ripples of the sleepy rill, or scare

I pine! I would I were a thoughtless boy again!
CALDER CAMPBELL.

VIOLET HAMILTON; OR, THE TALENTED FAMILY.

(Continued from our October No.)

tion to the manager, for the information of self and friends, all warm patrons of the theatre, who Mr Henry Adolphus really was, that functionary was not prepared either to affirm or to deny, directly, that Fitzwagram was not Charles Kean; though he fancied the other conjecture of Mr Greenthwaite as probable; and that Fitzwagram was quite as likely to be a young man of family and fashion, an amateur, whom fondness for the stage had led to assume an alias and the character which he sustained with such éclat.

"It must be so, sir. Why he knows every thing and every body. The palace, the cabinet, the greenroom, the clubs, the hells, the turf, the ring; It-the three great worlds, of fashion, literature, and politics, are alike familiar to Fitzwagram," said Mr Greenthwaite,-" a wonderful fellow, sir!"

mysteriously, and replied, "How can I, sir, tell what I have no right to know, whatever my private suspicions may be? But of this much I am convinced, Fitzwagram's name will be yet heard of in histrionic, or else in some other annals."

"I thought so," returned the gratified young draper.

The town was furiously divided on the respective merits of Mr Fitzwagram and Mr Edward Belville, the old favourite of the circuit, who had, for seven years, done tragedy and genteel comedy to every body's content, until had appeared the transcendent genius, the star, who shone more brilliantly off than on the boards, as those, like the fortunate draper, admitted to his private society affirmed. Greenthwaite was the furious leader of the Fitzwagramites; and was that night to preside at the supper, which he was to do the choice spirits of the town the honour of accepting, provided it was very, very select,-no one present save those he named and approved.

the excessive over-crowding, Hannah had still a few secondary chambers to let for the night; and she continued

"Lady's maid?”

"Not a bit of one."

"Humph! No. 159 may do. Boots!-the luggage to 159," cried the lady of the keys. The want of a lady's maid having lowered her ideas of the guests several degrees, and mentally exalted their sleeping apartment two stories.

"No, it won't; won't, I tell ye;" said Jem. "They're the right sort: that's their servant coming along the passage. Letters-the Post-office-right opposite Sir will go. Fly, Tom! letters-Charles Herbert, Esquire-Mrs Charles Herbert-Boo--oots!"

but Tom

Boots did not fly: but he went at his own time; and found letters-a whole half-dozen of themaddressed, as if by men of business, simply to Charles Herbert, Esquire ; and one, in a lady's hand, to Mrs Charles Herbert, Post-office, &c., &c. Jem

carrying them to the gentleman-was somewhat disappointed to find neither "Honourable," nor any patrimonial title ;-not even the impress of a coronet, on any one scal; yet he persisted in his original belief, that the new-arrivals were "of the right sort"-and on their marriage tour; though he afterwards learned, from the servant, that that happy event had taken place some months since. The young people had been rambling about in Wales, in Derbyshire, and last, at the Westmore

As Greenthwaite stood at the door of the-in taking a passing look of the envelopes, before Crown and Mitre, farther unfolding his ideas to Jem Winkin, as to the arrangements for the party, the proper distribution of the wax-lights ordered-for he had heard Fitzwagram pronounce gas-lamps "intensely vulgar”—and the icing of the champaigne, and the lobster salad-a handsome equipage from the south drew up, to add to the crowding and confusion of the caravansary; and a handsome young man, with an air of distinction, not lost on the experienced Jem, assisted a fair slight girl to alight, with care and tendernessland Lakes; and they expected to be here joined which at once told their history. Not for Gretna; by the gentleman's mother, on their way to Scotfor there was no haste nor perturbation as the lady land. The servant went to eat his dinner, while was conducted in; Jem, meanwhile, leaving Mr the luggage still lay about waiting the fiat of the Greenthwaite on the steps, and leading the way to his landlady, to whom James appealed. Boots was best parlour, in honour of the handsome couple and often distracted by a divided allegiance to the rival his own honeymoon ideas. A rapid glance at trunks, potentates of the bar; though he generally obeyed hat-boxes, and umbrellas, revealed nothing as to the sovereign de facto-which, at present, seemed the name and condition of the new arrivals; and James "the master" being away at Newcastle to to interrogate either the postilion or footman purchase horses. James was an old and faithful required some little time and address: so Jem, in servant of the establishment, who had perseveringly virtue of his unerring instinct, as a waiter of fought his way from ostler's aide, through all fifteen years' standing, while he summoned the gradations of public service, until he had reached principal chambermaid, whispered "Honeymoon his present responsible office. His word went far. jaunt-no doubt of it-lovely young creature; Although, in general, a very obliging person, and you may give 'em one of your best chambers, bound to universal civility by the threefold ties of Missus Hannah-pay handsomely at such times." natural disposition-the hope of immediate reThe sovereign princess of comfortable repose ward-and the expectation that old Jobson—rich, in the Crown and Mitre, under which hundreds and gouty-would retire, some time soon, and of her majesty's fatigued subjects nightly disposed leave him the goodwill-he had never been amicatheir wearied frames-the sole empress of sheets,ble with the head chambermaid-a late importatowels, and wash-hand basins, was equally experi- tion from the Bath Road-who now, tossing her enced, and less enthusiastic than Jem Winkin; head, repeatedand not to be as easily done out of a "best chamber," as he had out of his best parlour, without any thing like due cause shown.

"Own carriage?" inquired she coolly.

"Es-handsome landaulette-Long-acre builtstylish turn out: servants, harness, and every thing."

"Post-horses?" continued Miss Hannah. "Own cattle-pair well-matched beautiful bays -blood to the ear-point."

This was so far satisfactory; yet, in spite of

"A plain Mister, and no lady's maid! I say, 159: if I am to be interfered with in this way -dictated to in my own department-the sooner, ma'am, you look out for my successor in office. " said the indignant lady of the bedchamber. "The gentleman's mother is expected in her own carriage to-night," said James. "They inay stop some days with us, if made cumfutable. She is a widow lady of large jointure, with a handsome house at the West End; and keeps" (her crown

"I think they know the Bishop, and are perhaps to visit at Netherby," said James hesitatingly; and he muttered in an under voice, as if in atonement to his conscience, "At least the gentleman spoke of a bishop, and the lady inquired about the 'Netherby

clan,'

replied Herbert, thinking more of the langour visible in the beautiful face on which he tenderly gazed, than of the splendid and convenient dining accommodations of the Crown and Mitre.

"There will be catches, and glees, and toasts, and speeches, sir; and all that sort o' thing-Beg pardon, sir-for the freedom, sir-by the young gentleman; and, if it would be any amusement, sir, to the lady, sir :-beg pardon! When we have such parties, ladies are often spectators, sir,-just here, sir, where the pannel fits into the map of Yorkshire, sir-the Miss Lowthers, sir, and Lady Brampton, sir, and the Honourable Missus Faskarlie-I've seen 'em all having a peep!"

"Thank you," said Herbert. "If the lady should not be curious, perhaps I may. . . . . if the company are not private?”

"O Lord, sir!-most happy, I am sure, if you'd do 'em the honour to drink a glass of wine with them, when Fitzwagram gives 'em a benefit. It's "The Bishop, James!" cried his mistress, "send quite a thing, sir, in this town to-night.—Ten thoucook to me. .. Your best spare chamber sand pardons, sir !—But I know, gentlemen traveldirectly, Mrs Hannah; game, blackcock-fresh-ling like to see what is a-going on, sir. . . . . The I mean fresh dressed-patties-apricot tartlets- negus is just a-coming, sir,-Missus Jobson mixing jellies-stay-my own keys!" and the landlady, it herself." moving in quick time, repaired to those extraextra stores preserved in her own sacred keeping places, for grand and rare occasions, repeating "The bishop!" while the chamber-maid, darting glances of detection of a lie and fiery indignation at her triumphant foe, also moved off to obey.

The supper ordered was hastened by the gentleman, with the addition of mulled wine and biscuits; for the young lady, on reading her letter, found that the expected friend, who was crossing the country from York, had been detained by an accident to her carriage, of no alarming nature to herself, but which would delay her for a day, till it could be repaired.

"Thank you,” said Herbert, as both attendants retired,-Mr Herbert's man utterly horrified at the assurance of the waiter, which he charitably attributed to vulgar north-country breeding.

The young strangers, who had caused such commotion in the house, were glad to find themselves alone.

"You are not well, Violet ;-either you are cold, or you have taken cold," said Herbert, now leading his wife to the sofa, which he had drawn close to the fire he had ordered. "This rambling and boating have been too much for you. . . . . My mother will scold me for not taking better care of you, dearest one, and I deserve it."

....

"Don't fancy I shall incur our mother's censure of spoiling you longer, Charles," said Violet, laugh"A little wholesome contradiction, called the assertion of independent judgment, will now be a pleasant variety for us both."

Meanwhile, the waiter having donned a white "I wish she were here to do so," replied Violet, neck-cloth, brushed out his whiskers, and, accord-in a languid tone, yet with eyes brightly smiling ing to the modern practice of fashionable English her grateful thanks. Then, you are tired of me gentlemen before entering a room, combed out his already ;-in one little three months, Violet, longhair with his fingers, in honour of the lady within ing for a third in our social parties." and his own charms, assisted Mr Herbert's servant to lay the cloth; placing himself at supper, directly behind that gentleman's chair, and, conse-ing. quently, opposite the imagined bride, in virtue of the ancient privilege which permits a cat to look at the king. Before quitting the room, but after snuffing the four wax lights, set in the best silver branches, and placing the decanters in parallelograms, James, looking at the lady, and respectfully addressing the gentleman, took the liberty to hope that "the lady would not be disturbed nor annoyed by the party assembling in the twin-parlour-all highly respectable young gentlemen of the town, who were that night to give a farewell supper to Mr Fitzwagram, the famous play-actor, who was a-going to America."

"Saucy rebel against legitimate authority! Don't you deserve to be well punished for this?" And the gay young husband proceeded to inflict the gentle punishment which, hitherto, had not been very violently resented.

"Herbert! dearest Charles! don't, pray-let me alone. I am so frightened, nay, I shall be affronted with you."

"Don't what, little fool?" said Herbert, laughing. "Are you offended?"

"Gentlemen coming into the next room . . . .

"I see there are only sliding-doors between us," Only an oak board!—and, I am sure there are said Mr Herbert,

"Yes, sir; sliding oak-pannels-our large diningroom when we have the county gentry at the races, or their honours, the judges."

"And a very commodious and handsome one,"

voices there that I know, too. Hark!"

"Nonsense!-So it is not kissing, but being caught, you fear?-Fie, Violet! Yet, the dews of heaven never fell softer on the rose-buds. Let us kiss and be friends, however!"

"Dear Charles, are you quite well?" cried his wife, who almost feared the champagne had taken speedy, if evanescent, effect on his brain.

“Perfectly well. But what is the matter?" And now indeed the alarmed Herbert had a delicate duty to perform, in kissing away the fast gathering tears. "Violet, my own love, have my spirits been too boisterous for you; you are surely ill,-nervous? I wish you would go to bed before the noise begin. I wish my mother were here to nurse you."

"I believe I am nervous; . . but I like no nurse half so well as yourself, Charles." And the flattering preference was repaid by a repetition of the original offence, not this time resented, though more gentlemen might be overheard coming into "the twin-parlour."

"Not my mother?" 66 No, indeed."

upon the unopened letters strewed upon the table, while her thoughts involuntarily glanced back to the last bright and fleeting period of her young life, and forward into a future, which already looked troubled and dark.

"Not for us," was her secret reflection, as she recalled the contents of Mrs Herbert's late confidential letters to herself," but for her, born and nursed in the bosom of affluence and refinement, to whom luxury has become absolute necessity :loving, united, together we can brave any fortune, and extract purest happiness, dearest pleasure, from our affections, and the exercise of our faculties. But for her!"

In this depressed mood, arising from a cause which she was not yet permitted to reveal to her husband, Violet now allowed herself to regret every thing, save only her marriage. That alone, the source of her pride and happiness, was never to be

"How proud you make me;-not old Marion?" repented by her; and Heaven avert that another

Nay, you love to tease."

66 Then you do prefer her nursing to mine?" "Oh no, no. . . . What a fool you make of me. ... But, Charles, there is one thing "Well, love? But tell me, and never mind those gorgon-Gryphon letters, which seem basilisks to you.”

When our mother comes to-morrow, Charles

"What then, love? Why hesitate, why blush?" "We must be sage, you know,—not giddy and indiscreet; remember we are old married people, now almost three months, and these raptures

might ever repent! As she mused, Herbert, having silently watched her for some minutes, approached, and, unchidden, sate down and drew her towards him, kindly trying to cheer her depressed spirits, which he now again affected to impute to fatigue, as his former hint had disturbed her.

"Can I leave you alone to vex yourself reading over all those ugly letters-Gryphon's, and that one from Lord Tarbert's agent, and that from Mr Cryppes' solicitor. What a dowry of trouble and vexation I have brought you, Charles."

"Hush, Violet, lest I be angry with you. I must begin to try if I can chide, if you will be unjust to yourself-unkind to us both. I am lec-going to smoke a cigar; and-Hark, the bonny Christ-church bells! The gentlemen in the next room' do reasonable justice to what the Cryppeses did so masterly, you remember."

"Almost three! fled like a bright short day. And these raptures,' must they give place to tures? and is this your first attempt in that line? Must I then try to seem to love you less?"

"I won't humour you by chiding. And there, I declare, is the man with his negus already." And Violet, like a guilty thing, started from her husband's clasping arm, and planted herself demurely, leaning on the mantel-piece, on the other side of the fire. The waiter,-it was not Jem Winkin,quietly placed the rummer on the table, and went away. "Sit down, pray Mrs Charles, opposite me, to a quiet conjugal tête-à-tête. But first pledge me in this hot spicy liquor, to the waning of our honey-prudence. It was but talk, I fear.” moon, since you warn me that it disappears tonight, with my mother's appearance."

Violet could not attend to the singing. She was wrapped in her own agitating thoughts; and, pressing the hand that fondly clasped hers, she at length found utterance :

"And another long era of happiness begins." "So I fervently hope and believe; and not less bright, dear love."

“Not less sweet and serene; the sober certainty ... But do keep your own side of the house, pray, or I shall certainly run away,-and, to spoil my quotation—fie! . . . And the gentlemen in the next room! There!"

"Hang the gentlemen in the next room!" said Herbert, laughing. "But you must sit down, and any where you please, at least till you have sipped your negus, my mother's old-fashioned remedy for chills taken on the water; or, Violet," and he looked earnestly in her eyes, "has your cold not come by post?"

"Do you remember one lovely evening, Charles, long, long since now, in Mrs Herbert's gardenalcove, in Regent's Park, that we were alone, talking of our marriage, and that I tried to talk

"And I, perhaps, was singing, or rather feeling what I durst not say

'Ah, wha could prudence think upon,
And sic a lassie by him?'

"But you were so often talking of prudence and
delay, and I was so unwilling to listen, that I can-
not precisely remember ;—and, ah! these evenings
they were all so lovely!"

"This was one in particular," faltered Violet, looking fondly in his eyes; "when you said

66

"

Oh, tell me what, then?" urged he more ear

nestly.

"It was I could live upon your breath!"" Herbert's face brightened. He well remembered the moment when he had first inhaled rapturous There was some reason for the question, as, ever life from the sweet breath on which he hung. anon, her eyes wandered, and pensively fixed]"Yes, dearest, I well remember-and I am not NO. LXXXV,—VOL, VIII,

and

D