The Sun.
London, England, 1861-06-10 00:00:00

spection of the fort. Rosny demurred, as the uni-
form of the Marshal made them conspicuous.
Biron laughed, but spurred his horse close to the
principal battery, which was instantly silenced,
and the firing paused until he had left the vici-
nity of the fort. A few hours later, Rosny, with
one of hisofficers, went to the same spot, and as he
expected was received with a tremendous volley.
The acute minister retired with his previous sus-
picions confirmed. After such ;proceedings on the
part of one high in military authority in dangerous
times, the sentence of death on the king's old com-
panion in arms is less surprising than his pre-
vious leniency to a traitor. On the very day
of his arrest, Henry despatched Rosny to
make another effort. "If M. de Biron confides in
you.," said the King, "assure him that he may fear-
lessly seek my presence and avow all. If he dis-
guises nothing, I give you my royal word that I
will, with all my heart, accord him a free pardon."
Biron had previously had the honour of being
selected as ambassador extraordinary to our Queen
Elizabeth. Henry IV. was always the firm ally of
England, and Elizabeth frequently afforded him
substantial aid, although sometimes driving a hard
bargain. She was quite ready to take advantage
of " her dear brother's" difficulties, and on promis-
ing to assist Henry with troops and a fleet, to dis-
lodge the Spaniards from Calais, merely requested
that the town when evacuated should be ceded to
the English. Henry properly replied that he
would rather dispense with the proffered aid, since
the Spaniards would ere long be glad to cede their
conquest. His letter to Elizabeth on this question
is given in full by Miss Freer, and is a favourable
specimen of royal epistles. On another occasion
Rosny had a confidential interview with the Eng-
lish Queen, in which they discussed the scheme
which the allies entertained of remodelling Europe.
It was proposed to restore to Germany its ancient
privilege of electing an Emperor; to render the
Seven Provinces independent of Spain, and to erect
a powerful republic by the addition of certain pro-
vinces ; to construct a similar republic of Switzer-
land; to equalise the power of the chief European
states, by depriving Spain of the Indies, by adding
the Lombard provinces to Savoy and Piedmont, by
giving Sicily to the Venetians, and by making
Naples an independent kingdom. As Miss
Freer observes "The designs of Elizabeth
and her ally have most of them been
realised; it is, however, no slight homage to render
to the genii* of these great personages, that projects
which two centuries and a half ago were discussed
by them, have been, with various modifications,
adopted by the succeeding statesmen of Europe.
Elizabeth was then too old to see the first step taken
towards these projects, while the dagger of Ravaillac
cut short the days of the great Henry too soon for
his country and for Europe. The readjustment of
the finances was one of Henry's greatest benefits to
his people. In this, as in most of his other reforms,
Rosny took the lead. This famous Minister, bettor
known by his later name of Sully, was as remark-
able for his fidelity to the interests of his sovereign
as for his consummate ability. Devotion to Henry
was his one sentiment, and truly it compensated
the monarch for the ingratitude he too often en-
countered. Henry had discernment enough to per-
ceive Rosny's integrity and ability, and steadily
advanced him, notwithstanding the opposition and
coldness of the nobles. His appointment to the
management of the finances was expedited by
Gabrielle d'Estrees, partly from enmity to Sancy,
partly from a real desire to extricate the King from
his difficulties. The results were soon apparent. The
enormous peculations he discovered amazed the
king, who •saw him return from his first visit of
inspection with 500,000 crowns of arrears. This
was the more welcome as the king had been pre-
viously at a loss for 12,000 crowns to pay his Swiss
companies :
" Henry; accordingly the following day, desired Sane),
to send to M. de Remy for the money to discharge the
arrears. This mandate Saucy gladly obeyed. Believing
that Rosny, a civilian, was probably ignorant of the amount
needed, or willing
.perhaps to test the integrity and pliancy
of Henry's new minister elect, Sancy sent to desire Rosny
to give the sum of 90,000 crowns to the bearer of the war-
rant for ,the pay of his Majesty's Swiss. Rosny compla-
cently surveyed his well filled coffers, which ho had had
ranged round the apartment he occupied in the Abbey of
St. Ouen, and returned A, dry negative to the demand. I
do not know M. de Sancy, nor do I recognise his writing
nor his orders,' contemptuously observed Rosny. Re
Pardieu, we shall soon see whether this Rosny knows not
who I am,' exclaimed Sancy furiously, when this answer
was reported. He then went in search of the Bing, whom he
found walking in the gallery of the monastery, with several
lords of the Court. Well, M. de Sancy, what do you
here ? Are you not going to pay my Swiss to-day ?' asked
his Majesty. ' Ere,' retorted Sancy, 'I am not, for such
is not the pleasure of your M. de Rosny, who is playing the
Emperor in his chamber, sitting savagely upon his silver
tags like an ape upon a block. He says he knows nobody.
I doubt whether your Majesty will have more credit with
him than others.' The King retorted angrily, and then sent
for Rosny and commanded him to explain. Rosny obeyed
without reserve, to the astonishment of the persons pre-
sent, who all dreaded the wit and the supposed power of
Saucy. From this period Rosny was seldom molested by
his colleagues, while he studiously refrained from interfer-
ing with their respective departments."
On another occasion Miss Freer gives the following
portrait of this celebrated Minister :
" One of the grievances of the princes was that the realm
was governed by the coterie formed of Bellievre, Villeroy,
and Rosny—that the king listened indeed to the advice of
his peers, but never acted upon the counsel given, unless
approved by Rosny. The latter, from being a humble
member of the household, occasionally addressed
condescendingly by Mayenne or Montmorency, or made the
butt of Sancy's sarcasms, now beheld himself the patron of
the house of Lorraine-Guise; the minister whose nod Henry,
when in council, always waited; the recipient of the confi-
dential projects of the superb Epernon; and courted by the
chief of Rohan, who about this period proposed matri-
monial alliance between their children ! Rosny attained
this altitude by the devotion of every purpose, friendship,
and personal advantage to the attainment of one object—
his interest was that of the king—his friends were com

prised in the single person of the king—and his recreation
and sole pursuit, the business of the king. Austere and re-
served, J.tosny displayed no accessible foible ; he despised
women; he hated gambling; he wearied of banquets and
revels ; and grimly submitted to be present at these, and to
entertain others, as part and parcel of the burden of office.
He had no religious principle—he went to mass with the
the king, and was ever ready to stay away from le preehe at
Henry's desire. In his communications with the Pope, and
with the eminent divines of the day, he adopted without
scruple their priestly titles of honour, which rigid Hugue-
nots like Duplessis Mornay sternly rejected; and was as
ready to accommodate the acts of his syhods to the views of
dissentients, as du Perron was to smooth down the canons
of Holy Church."
Marie de Medici does not occupy a prominent place.
The concluding volumes of the work will probably
give us an account of her regency. As Miss Freer
remarks "The military successes and frank temper
of King Henry have gained for him a renown
which the domestic annals of his life certainly
do not sanction." A few weeks after the
sudden and mysterious death of his adored
Gabrielle, " the great Henry was cowering
at the feet of an ambitious woman; false to his
private and political engagements; and the credul-
ous dupe of a family renowned for its intrigue."
Mlle. d'Entragues is here referred to, who was
afterwars concerned in a formidable conspiracy.
The king's treatment of his sister, too, shows nei-
ther justice nor generosity and is unworthy the son
of Jeanne d'Albret. His love of pleasure at
first misled the courtiers, who however soon learned
to appreciate his declaration, " I may cover with
my royal robe the trusty armour worn at Contras,
Argues, and Ivry, but I never lay it aside." Henry's
straightforward logic anal plain speech often amazed
prosy dignitaries anxious for oratorical display.
On one occasion, as he entered a town, the munici-
pality met him with their oration,—" King, most
mighty, clement, benign !" " Stop!" cried the
Monarch, " those titles suffice; add only, ' and very
weary.' " Before his repast another body arrived
with a second harangue, beginning with, Age-
silaus, King of Lacedsemon," when the King im-
patiently stopped them, with the declaration that
Agesilaus had dined, but that he had not. Henry's
determination to register the edict of Nantes was
much to his credit, and many other of his
acts might have taught his successors wisdom.
We congratulate Miss Freer on having so
successfully continued her laborious undertaking,
which we trust she will bring to an equally satis-
factory conclusion. Important and eventful as the
reign of Henry IV. was, its details are little known
by general readers among us, and therefore in pre-
senting so complete and interesting a narrative
Miss Freer has done good service to the public,
besides enhancing her own well-earned reputation.

" Who Breaks—Pays." Pawn Proverb. By the
author of " Cousin Stella. 2 vols. Smith and

Elder.

This is a very interesting tale, that is equal to
the former production by this author. The charac-
ter of Lill is very well drawn, and furnishes a very
striking instance of what mistakes are made by
those who are really well-meaning, but are impetu-
ous and hasty. Lill Tufton led a sad life, indeed,
although at first sight she appeared to enjoy so
many advantages with her bright youth and her
great beauty. Giuliani is a fine disposition, and
all must sympathise with his sufferings, must ad-
mire his zeal in the cause of his injured cour,try, and
respect his strict adherence to principle, and his
resolution to make any sacrifices that were
demanded by duty. Lill would have been far
happier had she kept to her engagement with
Giuliani than she was in marrying Sir Frederic
Ponsonby. She would always have felt respect for
Giuliani, and he would never, under any provoca-
tion, have been so testyas was Sir Frederic. It was
most unwise to leave one so young and inexpe-
rienced as Lill in such society as Mrs. Townsend's
for a year ; and had not her health so rapidly sunk
more direful results might have taken place as re-
garded her reputation. Sir Mark is a delineation
of a thoroughly selfish old man, who
was
testy and inconsiderate to the last degree. Missalso
Crompton amuses na with her quaint sim-
plicity, which Was rendered the more

•
conspicuous from her being surrounded by so many
crafty and subtle ones. Lady Ponsonby was very
kind, but wanted judgment in :difficulties, while
Alicia exemplifies how disagreeable a good per-
son can make herself by her harsh criticism of
others, and by her narrow notions in many things,
while in some she was too free and unguarded.
It is a sad sketch of life that we meet with in these
pages. The hero is so brave and enthusiastic, the
heroine so generous and sincere, that the reader
may, fancy, to begin with, that all will eventually
prove satisfactory in their careers. However, the
contrary is the case, and we learn of Lill's early
death, and of Giuliani's life-long sorrow and
regret for her deserting him, and sorrow for her
after disappointment. No better proof could be
given of his devotion to her than when he pleaded
the cause of his successful rival. There is no surer
test of uprightness than this, and he reaped his
reward inasmuch as the influence he obtained over
her induced her to make overtures of reconciliation
to Sir Frederic, and although they did not meet
again, she had the happiness of departing in peace;
The proverb which gives a name to the work is a
very expressive one, and the illustration is fully
carried out. They who, like Lill, rush on in reck-
less desperation will inevitably come on shoals and
quicksands, while those who attempt deceit like
Sir Frederic will as certainly find themselves in
very awkward situations, of which the most un-
pleasant result will be that they will not be able
to do themselves justice, or explain their motives
to their indignant judges. As a good representa-
tion of society in some troublous times, and an able
exposition of character in some of its most striking
phases, this novel may be confidently recommended
and there is no reason to doubt its success, consider-
ing its claims to attention. It is a brilliant work
in its peculiar style, and reflects great credit on its
author by its originality and'vigour.

The Life of Richard Porson, M.A. By the Rev.
J. Selby Watson, M.A.,
.R.S.L. Longman.
It is somewhat surprising, as the writer before us
observes, that the life of so eminent a scholar and
critic as Richard Porson should have remained un-
written. The attention which the precocity of his
talents drew upon him procured him influential
friends who afforded him the means of prosecuting
his studies, and thus, through his own abilities, he
was raised from a very humble origin to a position
which commanded the respect of the world of let-
ters. The name of Porson was held in honour by
every scholar in Europe, and at the present day the
Porson Prize and Porson Scholarship still commemo-
rate his abilities in the University of which he was
a member. It is mournful to reflect that such
great powers should have achieved so little, that
with the exception of some excellent emendations
of ancient Greek, the world should be so little
the richer for such stores of knowledge, such keen
perception, and such wonderful force of memory.
It is painful to consider that the individual so great
as a scholar was not equally great as'aman, that the
tyranny of a degrading habit clouded the vigorous
mind, and enslaved the independent spirit. The
biographer has acquitted himself of his difficult
task with kindness and discrimination. He openly
states that he is fully sensible of the delicacy of
his undertaking ; but while frankly confessing the
errors of his hero, he has not dwelt upon them
more than necessary, and has obeyed Othello's
famous injunction, by neither palliating what
deserved censure, nor bringing into unnecessary
prominence the failings of a great and gifted man.
Porson was the son of a weaver in East Ruston,
Norfolk, who was also the parish clerk; his mother
was the daughter of a shoemaker. Neither of his
parents, says Mr. Watson, had any education beyond
valet might be gained at the village school; but
they appear to have been above the rustic level. His
father was a man of good sense and great powers of
memory, possessed also of a correct knowledge of
arithmetic, for he taught his son before he was nine
years old to extract the cube root by mental calcu-
lation. His mother had a taste for poetry, and was
familiar with the plays of Shakspeare, which she
had obtained access to in the library of the vicar,
where she had been at service. Porson was sent at
an early age to a neighbouring school, where his
abilities soon attracted attention. " On his daily re-
turnlto school," said his master, "it was evident that
he had been thinking, when he was not asleep, of
his studies, for he generally came armed with some
algebraic or mathematical problem solved in his
own way," a process which he adapted wit h the 47th
proposition of Euclid's first book. The curate of
the parish, hearing of the boy's precocity, offered
to educate him gratuitously with his own
sons, an offer which was of course gladly accepted.
From this time his progress was rapid. Mr.
Hewitt, the clergyman, being anxious to advance
his pupil, spoke of him to Mr. Norris, a wealthy
gentleman of the neighbourhood, who afterwards
founded the Norrisian PrOfessorship of Divinity at
Cambridge. He was consequently sent for exami-
nation to the head tutors of Trinity College and
the Greek Professor at Cambridge, not thinking
perhaps that he himself should subsequently hold
that :distinguished post. Their report was
unanimous and most favourable. Mr. Norris there-
fore exerted himself to raise a fund for educating
him at a first-rate school, and subsequently main-
taining him at the University. Eton and Cam-
bridge only confirmed his reputation. In 1781 he
gained the Craven scholarship, took his degree in
1872, and soon afterwards obtained the first Chan-
cellor's medal and was elected to a fellowship,
contrary to the rule of that time, while still a
junior bachelor, exception being made in favour
of his eminent abilities. This fellowship he resigned
ten years later in conseqUence of his refusal to take
orders. This is one of the instances which prove
Porson's honesty of purpose. " I found, said he,
" that I should require about fifty years reading to
make myself thoroughly acquainted with divinity,
to satisfy my mind on all points, arid therefore I
gave it up. There are fellows who go into a pulpit
assuming everything and knowing nothing; but I
would not do so." He soon after became engaged in
the Travisian controversy respecting a disputed
text in St. John's first
lseeepistle.edtisac
and
time,
dTsahivnoei
discussion
uionrhg
irowcafhph hiocechr
pcg
ovpr eis seo oc-
cupied nit
sfc uht lul attentiontae ncceos us n
of
fo afi
nt tt
het
ex-
pression is better displayed than his courtesy or
kindness to opponents.
had resigned his fellowshlinp;Tuanned Ih7i9s2,prPosoprescotns
were in consequence most doubtful and dis-
heartening. Fortunately, but a few months
elapsed before he was elected to the Greek Profes-
sorship at Cambridge, which he held until his
death in 1808. Many years previously he had
offered to the Syndics of the University Press to
edit a reprint of Stanley's edition of /Eschylus, but
as he was told he must preserve Stanley's text and
Pauw's annotations untouched, he declined the
conditions. A curious specimen of collegiate
scholarship was given on this occasion. Porson
urged upon the Syndics the necessity of obtaining
the various readings of the Medicean manuscript of
Florence, and offered to journey thither for the pur-
pose of collating it at a trifling expense to the
University. The offer was rejected, and one of the
Syndics, speaking strongly against it, asked why
Mr. Porson could not collect his manuscripts at
home. Porson referred to this display of ignorance
long after. It is said that this repulse so dispirited
him as to check his whole critical career. Had he
then, in early life, undertaken so great a work, he
might have proceeded to others, and have accom-
plished all that was expected of him, instead of
frittering away his powers on trivial tasks, and
sinking into desultory and indolent habits. With
all his familiarity with the ancient Greek writers,
and the special qualifications which he possessed
for editing them, he never achieved a complete
edition of any writer. The isolated plays
which he published fully maintained his
reputation as a critic and editor of the highest order,
but his love of study and the satisfaction of accom-
plishing a really great work were not sufficient to
induce him to make the continuous effort. About
the time when the last edition of the Hecuba was
published, which terminated the public labours of
Porson on Euripides, he was solicited by the London
booksellers to edit an edition of Aristophanes, for
which they offered him £4,000. In Dr. Raine's
opinion Porson might, with his knowledge of the
author, have completed his task in six months, but
he'refused to undertake it. He was, in truth, gra-
dually falling more and more under the influence of
his evil habits. In 1806 he was appointed librarian
of the London Institution, with a salary of £2OO a-
year and a suite of rooms. But the great scholar
proved miserably unworthy of his post. Many re-
sorted to his rooms to confer with him on literary
matters, and when his faculties were clear he was
always ready to impart whatever he knew. But
his general:conduct:gave little satisfaction. " His
attendance was irregular; he made no efforts such
as had been expected from him to augment the
library ; and he was often brought home in a state
of insensibility long after midnight. Had hi 3 life
been prolonged, it is hardly to be supposed that he
would have been suffered to continue in his office."
tThheeodbisreercvtaotrison, "
sent him a severe letter containing
attachedknow to
youarteheourrecleibiprat;
libra-
rian by
for :your salary." After he had held it but two
seeing
your name
o nly
years his health, which had long been failing, gave
way suddenly, and he died September
in the 49th year of his age. Ot his power of 25th, 1808,
.
me-
mory many astonishing feats are recorded, from the
days when at Eton, going up to say a lesson in
Horace, he took a volume of Ovid by
mistake, but went on boldly, and construed the
passage with perfect accuracy, the master not dis-
c Overing the difference till he took the book to ex-
amine
it. "Nothing," says one writer, "came
amiss to his memory; he would set a child right in
his twopenny fable-book, repeat the whole of the