create any alarm, and had apparently recovered. In the first days of September they left town for their usual autumnal excursion:the sad sequel-we cannot trust our own feelings to narrate it— must be told in the few last lines ever traced by his own hand,a note subjoined by the editors, which leaves in pious ambiguity the precise nature of the misfortune,-and the affecting narrative of the amiable Dumont* on the Coroner's Inquest:

* Sept. 3rd.-Arrived at Cowes.

12th.-Anne went into the sea-bath.

13th. Taken ill.....

19th.-Roget [his nephew] and William [his eldest son] arrived. Oct. 9th.-Slept for the first time after many sleepless nights. < 10th.-Relapse of Anne.

'Lady Romilly died on the 29th of October, 1818. Her husband survived but for three days the wife whom he had loved with a devotion to which her virtues, and her happy influence on the usefulness of his life, gave her so just a claim. His anxiety during her illness preyed upon his mind and affected his health; and the shock occasioned by her death led to that event which brought his life to a close, on the 2nd of November, 1818, in the sixty-second year of his age.'-Note by the Editor, vol. iii. p. 368.

'Mr. Stephen Dumont, of Geneva, then stated that he was one of the Representatives of the Council at Geneva, but had been in England previous to the restoration. I have (he said) been connected with Sir Samuel Romilly a great many years; my intention was to have spent the summer with my best friend, Sir Samuel, and his lady; but the state of Lady Romilly's health was such that she was removed to Cowes, in the Isle of Wight.

"[Here the witness, in great anguish, said it would be better that he should read the letters he had then received from Sir Samuel. A letter was then read from Sir Samuel, dated from Cowes, 27th Sept., inviting Dr. Dumont to visit him there; saying, that he could not promise him any pleasure, as he considered Lady Romilly in a very perilous state, as the physicians did not say she was out of danger; and concluded thus:"She is considered by her medical attendants in some danger. She is for the present a little better, and I take care neither to let her nor the poor children see the anxiety I feel, but it costs me a great deal; with all this, do not suppose I have not resolution to undergo everything to preserve my health for my children's sake."

* Our readers will feel some curiosity to know what became of Dumont. On the restoration of the Republic of Geneva, in 1814, he returned to his country, whence he made occasional visits to England, in one of which he was a witness to the catastrophe of his dear friend Romilly. In 1829 he set out for a tour of pleasure into the north of Italy, but was taken ill at Milan, and died suddenly on the 29th September in that year.

This letter was followed by two others, informing Mr. Dumont of the state of Lady Romilly's health. And he then resumed his evidence as follows:-I arrived in the Isle of Wight on the 3rd of October, and Lady Romilly was well enough to spend a few hours in company; but Sir Samuel seemed to have no confidence, and notwithstanding that recovery he was in the same state of anxiety. Lady Romilly had a relapse, and was for some days in a great state of suffering. During that time nothing could equal the excruciating pains of Sir Samuel but his fortitude and resignation. He was almost entirely deprived of sleep, and I saw he began to entertain the greatest apprehensious from that circumstance. Twice or three times he has expressed to me his fears of mental derangement. Once he sent for me in the middle of the night, at least at two o'clock in the morning, and spoke to me of a dream he had had full of horrors, and said that an impression had remained upon his mind as if the dream had been a reality. He asked me if I did not consider that as a proof that his mind was broken, and his faculties impaired. Conversations about his children generally restored a certain degree of peace to his mind, and sometimes he proposed plans for their education and future establishment. On Thursday, the 29th of October, about ten o'clock, while at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, he was informed by his nephew, Dr. Roget, for whom he always showed the same attachment as for one of his sons, that his lady was no more. I have omitted to say that the two sisters of Lady Romilly came on the Tuesday previous, and he said he could shed no tears when he saw them. He told me his brains were burning hot. He left Cowes with great reluctance the next day (Friday), but he declared that he would be governed entirely by Dr. Roget and his friends. I accompanied him, and on Friday we slept at Winchester. He felt extremely exhausted. Dr. Roget slept in the same room, and Sir Samuel's night was extremely restless. The next morning I observed marks of great agitation, which he tried to subdue; he was constantly tearing his gloves, or the palm of his hand, scratching his fingers and his nose, and some blood came from his nose. When we arrived at an inn on the road he was so weak that he could proceed no further. We slept there, and Dr. Roget still slept in the same room with him. I had proposed to him not to come to Russell-square, but to take some other house for the present. He answered, that he was likely to be laid up for some time, and he was desirous of getting home, and he proceeded; but I observed more violent signs of agitation still, more tearing of his hands and of his nose. In a moment that he was shutting his eyes and wringing his hands, I took the hand of his daughter and placed it in his hand; upon which, opening his eyes, and having perceived what I had done, he cast upon me an unutterable look of gratitude, and embraced his daughter. When we arrived in Russell-square he made great efforts to compose himself, and went to his library, and threw himself upon a sofa, quite in a manner that was alarming to me: then for some moments he was joining his hands, as in a state of delirium, but he spoke nothing. A moment after he got up, took my aim, went round

round the two rooms, and appeared to me to be in the state of a man dying of an internal wound. One or two days after, he desired to see Dr. Marcet, saying his nephew, Dr. Roget, suffered too much, and that he would give him the comfort of some medical friend's assistance. He wanted to consult him, particularly about a shower-bath, thinking that would relieve the heat of his head; still he declared he had no headache. I have nothing more to say upon that subject. After Dr. Marcet (it was Sunday when we arrived in town, about five o'clock) arrived, he would not quit him the whole night, but slept in the room; I slept in a room above him. About seven in the morning (Monday) Dr. Roget came to me in a state of extreme anxiety, telling me that his uncle was much worse, with a violent fever, uttering some expressions in a state of perturbation, and complaining that he was distracted. Dr. Roget immediately called Dr. Marcet, who came instantly and they sent for Dr. Babington to join in a consultation. I asked Dr. Marcet and Dr. Roget if I could go and see my friend, and they desired me not to do it, saying the greatest quiet was necessary for him, and that he was only to have one person to attend him in the room. I went then to Holland-house, at Kensington, to see his three youngest children, whom Lord Holland had taken from school to his house, and to make some arrangements with respect to them. When I returned to Russell-square, about half-past three, I found one of the servants in tears, and Dr. Roget in a state approaching to despair. My first feeling was stupor and astonishment, for I had never, during the whole month that I had passed with Sir Samuel, and dining most constantly with him. and his son-and during the time the ladies were employed in business (during which time we had intimate conversations)-I never had any apprehension of the act by which he had lost his life. The intimate knowledge that I had of his high principles of duty-of his moral and religious fortitude-of his love for his country-and of his-(much affected) of his parental affection-totally excluded from my mind every suspicion or idea of the catastrophe that has happened.'-Annual Register for 1818, pp. 149-151.

The verdict was, and could be no other than, temporary mental derangement.'

In order that we might not, when we should arrive at this deplorable catastrophe, feel ourselves obliged to make observations likely to disturb, in any degree, the sympathy which so deep a tragedy must excite, we have alluded, in the course of our narrative, to those circumstances which might in our opinion have, on the one hand, predisposed this fine and sensitive intellect to derangement, from extreme anxiety and want of rest ; and, on the other, deprived it, as we fear, of the best source of fortitude and consolation.

It therefore now only remains for us to say that this publication-indiscreet as we think it, and unfortunate, as, if it were to give rise to hostile controversy, it would certainly prove-contains

little or nothing to impair our general respect for Sir Samuel
Romilly's abilities and virtues; and it affords (unconsciously,
as it seems to us, on the part of the editors) some degree of
apology, or at least palliation, for the two great defects of his other-
wise blameless and valuable life,-namely, his political bitterness,
which we believe to have been more a constitutional than a moral
infirmity; and his Genevese philosophy,-the error, we think,
rather of education and accident than of his naturally pious heart.
In all other respects we willingly offer our testimony-valeat
quantum-to his great talents, large acquirements, and deserved
success to his social and domestic virtues-to his integrity,
benevolence, and honour-and, in short, to the most essential
qualities that constitute the character of a virtuous man.

INDEX

TO THE

SIXTY-SIXTH VOLUME OF THE QUARTERLY REVIEW.