THE REV. JOHN RUSSELL. 323 



of youth, and bring back, at least for one night, 

 that "freshness of morning" which, with *' her 

 clouds and her tears," the poet tells us is 



"Worth evening^'s best light." 



That would certainly have been his first 

 wish had he foreseen the honour that awaited 

 him at the forthcoming ball. On that night, a 

 little before the clock struck twelve, and a few 

 minutes before the old year had passed away 

 for ever, Russell received an intimation that the 

 Princess was about to favour him with her hand, 

 and welcome the incoming year by taking him 

 for her partner. 



It would be trespassing beyond the clue 

 limits of this memoir to take more than a 

 passing glance at the mysteries of that festive 

 scene, the success of which, had the Muses 

 been present, Terpsichore herself would have 

 been charmed to witness. Russell, inspirited 

 by his happy lot, and forgetting all time, except 

 that of the music, stepped out like a four-year- 

 old ; and if, in the course of that brief enjoyment, 

 he had not been the object of many longing, 

 not to say envious, eyes, there must have been 

 Anchorites in that assembly with whom he 

 certainly would have had no sympathy. 



It was whispered about by that little bird, 

 to which, from our earliest years, we have all 

 been indebted for so much authentic informa- 

 tion, that Russell on hearing the tow^er clock 



