resting upon the rights, or contemplating the happiness of mankind, and discriminated from the claims of an existing dynasty, be it democratical or monarchical, he was utterly incapable. _Carpe diem_ was his motto, and he was faithful to it; but however proper that Epicurean maxim might have been in the mouth of a Roman poet, or however truly it might depict the philosophy of a Roman courtesan, it is the deadly antagonist of greatness, which it blights in the bud. Out of such a nature as this--a nature unequal to the slightest sacrifice for the benefit of others, conservative of itself, and indifferent to all the world besides, it is impossible to make a great, though it may be easy enough to make a celebrated man--and such we take M. de Talleyrand, Prince de Benevento, to have been. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 17: _Revelations of the Life of Prince Talleyrand_. Edited from the Papers of the late M. Colmache, Private Secretary to the Prince. Second Edition. One Volume. London, 1850. H. Colburn.] [Footnote 18: Suetonius, in Vita, cap. 92.] [Footnote 19: [Greek: Onar ek Dios estin].] [Footnote 20: _Voice from St. Helena_.] [Footnote 21: The reader will perceive that this was written before the death of Louis Philippe, which took place at Claremont on the 26th day of August last.] [Footnote 22: The italics are not ours.] [Footnote 23: See Caulincourt's _Recollections_, &c. vol. ii. Appendix.] [Footnote 24: Caulincourt, vol. ii. p. 274, 5.] [Footnote 25: The particulars have been gleaned from a few scanty notices contained in an unpublished volume by the late George Macintosh, Esq., the nephew of the Mr. Wm. Macintosh spoken of above, entitled, _Biographical Memoir of the late Charles Macintosh, Esq., F.R.S. &c. &c._ Glasgow, 1847.] [Footnote 26: P. 210. The italics are in the original.] THE DANGERS OF DOING WRONG. A TALE OF THE SEA-SIDE. BY AGNES STRICKLAND. "And so you will not join our party to Dunwich fair to-morrow, Elizabeth?" said Margaret Blackbourne to the pretty daughter of the Vicar of Southwold, with whom she was returning from a long ramble along the broken cliffs toward Eastern Bavent, one lovely July evening in the year 1616.