190 Monthly Review of Literature, 
of something else than Irish volunteers.” ‘The 
commander looked stern—Nelson frowned—the 
soldiers exchanged significant glances—and his 
lordship proceeded to the next apartment. 
In this were lodged two characters of in- 
estimable worth, the Rey. Sinclair Kilburn, and 
the celebrated physician Dr. Crawford—good and 
benevolent men, but of a warmth of disposition 
which a vexatious imprisonment had rather in- 
creased than diminished. They were unacquaint- 
ed with the person of the gallant commander-in- 
chief, but perfectly familiar with the notoriety of 
his exploits. ‘ What! gentlemen, up so early?” 
“* Up, replied his reverence, wp captain, is the 
order of the day.” (Up wasa popular expression 
well understood, and synonymous with the word 
united). Then, Sir, [recommend youto be down,” 
said his lordship, with a stern countenance, and 
pointing toa chair, “I cannot think of sitting 
down, Sir, while you are standing; allow me, 
captain, to hand youa chair.” “ No!” exclaimed 
his lordship, with the utmost scorn, and apparent 
contempt ; “‘ No, Sir, I shall never sit in company 
with traitors.” ‘“ Honi soit qui mal y pense,” 
whispered the worthy divine; but roused by the 
word traitor, and unable to restrain the honest 
indignation of his soul, ‘* Traitor,’ he exclaimed, 
and bending his dark brow on the pallid counte- 
nance of the commander-in-chief, he pronounced 
in a solemn and emphatic tone, ‘ No, on the sin- 
cerity of an Irishman, and the faith of a Christian, 
there is not a Luttrell within our walls.”’—In has- 
tening to retire, his lordship’s attention was ar- 
rested by a small volume, which he perceived in 
the worthy doctor’s hand—* What has been the 
subject of your study, Sir?” ‘“ Locke on Govern- 
ment,” was the reply. “ A bad book for a prison,” 
rejoined his lordship. “ Then carry it to head- 
quarters, Sir,’ said the doctor, presenting the 
book with a sarcastic smile. 
For about a twelvemonth, or something 
more, Teeling bore the confinement without 
injury to his health; but at the end of that 
period, it gave way, and interest was made 
for his removal to a friend’s house on proper 
security. The first moment he was able to 
relieve his bail, he again placed himself at 
the disposal of the government, and was 
allowed in consideration, apparently, of his 
evident ill-health and extreme youth, to be 
at large on his own responsibility—forbidden 
only to visit the north, the seat of his rela- 
tions, and most intimate connections. Of 
any thing like personal narrative strictly, we 
find little more. In the heat of the insur- 
rections, it was necessary for him, he says, 
to have an interview with his brother, and in 
attempting it, he came within the lines of 
the rebels, and on explaining, was allowed 
to proceed. In returning he narrowly 
escaped the royal troops, but crossing the 
Boyne, reached a cabin occupied by “ Pa- 
trick Sarsfield, Earl of Lucan, who kept a 
house of entertainment, sold good liquor, 
and had good call.”” His noble host, not 
too lofty for his occupation, took the bridle 
of his horse, but Teeling, filled with vener- 
ation for the glories of his country, and the 
renown of her defenders, and respect for their 
descendants, exclaimed, “* Pardon me—the 
[ Aveust, 
descendant of Sarsfield shall never be my 
groom,”’ &c. Mine ‘ host of the garter’ re- 
fused his money even—with this magnifi- 
cent sentiment— Sarsfield’s cabin is too 
humble to entertain an Irish gentleman, 
but a true Irish heart would not refuse the 
only cheer it could offer—take this back, if 
Sarsfield’s friendship is worth your keeping.”’ 
Commentaries on the Life and Reign of 
Charles the First, by J. D’Israeli. 2 vols; 
1828.—Notwithstanding his propensity to 
prattle and overrate minute matters—not- 
withstanding the very bad taste of his com- 
position—notwithstanding the comfortable 
complacency, the undoubted assurance of 
unequalled sagacity visible and invisible in 
all he says—notwithstanding the decided 
bias he shews in the teeth of professions of 
imperturbable impartiality, D’Israeli has 
produced a not unamusing, nor uninstructive 
book for idle or leisurely people. His ob- 
ject has been to write neither history nor 
memoirs, but both—to couple secret history 
with public, as the surest means of fully 
estimating the characters of agents, and 
fairly judging of the effect and bearing of 
events. The two volumes before us em- 
brace about four years of Charles’s life, and 
those of course very far from being the 
busiest part of it; and his intention is to 
pursue it to a conclusion, on the same scale 
we suppose, which with the writer’s insa~ 
tiable passion for inquiry, and paraphrastic 
style of discussion and digression, will ex- 
tend to at least twenty tomes—may the good 
man live to complete, and we to review 
them. But the simplicity with which he 
deals out his truisms is really admirable— 
in the extreme naiveté of his feelings he 
evidently thinks himself in possession of a 
new and most invaluable test, detected by 
himself, and known to himself alone, and 
likely to remain so—a clue to thread the 
labyrinths of “ state secrecy, state policy, 
and state craft’-—“ in the humours of in- 
fluential persons, in the projects of the mo- 
ment, in divided interests, the strength and 
weakness of parties.’? An open avowal is 
never, it seems, to be looked for among 
Statesmen, and consequently the ostensible 
motives are never the real ones, and the 
very signs and symptoms of the passions 
must be construed as tokens of any thing 
but what they have been wont to indicate. 
Though whigs, as he says, have called him 
tory, and tories called him whig, his lean- 
ing is manifestly on the side of power; but 
altogether the book presents the strangest 
medley of liberal and illiberal sentiments 
that ever were mixed together in any man’s 
brains. When he speaks radicalism, it is 
like the prophet, blessing where he would 
willingly curse. We question strongly if he 
felt the full force of what is well said by 
himself, in speaking of the boasted perfec- 
tion of the judicature of our forefathers— 
“ For ancient laws to retain their perfec- 
tion, every thing must remain in the same 
ee a 
