LADY DENMAN is the eldest daughter of the Rev. Richard Vevers, and wife of THOMAS, Lord DENMAN, Lord Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench. The family of Denman was seated, at a remote period, in the county of Nottingham. THOMAS DENMAN, Esq., of Bevercoats, in the parish of West Markham, in the county of Nottingham, left a son, JOHN DENMAN, Esq., of Bakewell, in the county of Derby, who married Miss Elizabeth Buxton, and died in 1762, leaving issue, Joseph, M.D. of Bakewell, for many The second son, THOMAS DENMAN, was one of the most celebrated physicians of his time. His life, VOL. IX.-NO. IV.-OCTOBER 1836. like that of his still more conspicuous son, affords a fine example of the success that attends genius combined with patience and perseverance. He was born at Bakewell, in Derbyshire, in 1733, where his father was engaged in the medical profession. After his father's death, in 1752, he was for some time assistant to his elder brother, who was also a physician. When about twenty-one years of age, he went to London, and attended lectures at St. George's Hospital. He then entered the Navy as surgeon's mate, and in 1757 was made surgeon of a ship. In 1763 he quitted the Navy, after having served in the expedition against Belleisle, and obtained much professional experience. On his return to London he commenced business, and published an essay on puerperal fever, which procured him some reputation. His prospects, however, were so little flattering, that he made an effort to resume his situaation in the Navy, but without success. At length he had interest sufficient to obtain U the place of surgeon to one of the royal yachts, which brought him in a salary of seventy pounds a year, without materially interrupting his private practice. About this time (1770) he commenced giving lectures on midwifery, in conjunction with Dr. Osborne, having previously devoted himself chiefly to that branch of his profession. He was now also chosen joint physician and man-midwife to the Middlesex Hospital. With these advantages, he slowly but surely emerged from obscurity to the very extensive practice and great professional celebrity which he so long enjoyed. He was appointed licenciate in midwifery to the College of Physicians in 1783, and six years afterwards was elected an honorary Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. His fame now rapidly increased, and from the death of Dr. William Hunter, he was considered the most eminent of his profession. Several useful tracts proceeded from his pen, most of which have been incorporated in his great work, "The Introduction to the Practice of Midwifery,” which, with his "Aphorisms for the use of junior Practitioners," deserves a place in every medical library. Towards the decline of his life, Dr. Denman relinquished gradually the more laborious part of his practice to his son-in-law, Sir Richard Croft, and became a consulting physician. His death took place suddenly, 26th Nov. 1815. In private life Dr. Denman was much esteemed; his temper and manners were pleasing, and his general knowledge of literature and science highly creditable to his industry, his early education being but limited. He had married, in 1770, Elizabeth, daughter of Alexander Brodie, Esq., and sister of the eminent surgeon, Sir Benjamin Brodie, Bart., by whom (who died 19th Jan. 1833,) he left issue : Thomas. Margaret, married to Sir Richard Sophia, married to Matthew Baillie, Dr. Denman's only son, THOMAS, the present Lord Denman, was born 23rd Feb. 1779. This distinguished advocate and judge being early called to the bar, soon rose to eminence in his profession, and for many years enjoyed considerable practice and reputation in the Courts of Law. He first made his appearance in Parliament as member for the borough of Nottingham, for which place he was returned after one of the severest contests ever known. The affair of Queen Caroline, however, which took place soon after, raised him to the highest degree of popularity. In 1820, her Majesty appointed Mr. Denman her Solicitor-General, and in that capacity he exerted himself throughout the investigation in the House of Lords, with an intelligence and eloquence that at once stamped him one of the first lawyers in the kingdom. In 1822 he was appointed Common Serjeant; and on the accession of the Grey Administration, in 1830, AttorneyGeneral, and was knighted the 1st Dec. in the same year. In Nov. 1832, he succeeded Lord Tenterden as Lord Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench; and on the 23rd March, 1834, was created Baron DenMAN, of Dovedale, in the county of Derby. Lord Denman married, 18th Oct. 1804, THEODOSIA ANNE, eldest daughter of the Rev. Richard Vevers, the lady whose portrait forms this month's illustration, by whom he has issue: Thomas, born 30th July 1805, who Lewis William, born 23rd March, Theodosia, married to Charles Wright, Elizabeth. Caroline Amelia. MARTHA VINCENT. A LEGEND OF LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. Ir is sixty years since the public balls of the now thriving and magnificent town of were held in the upper story of the old gaol. But that assembly-room-once a chapel-must have displayed much gayer scenes than do the prouder saloons of modern times: for those were the brave days of hoops, and powdered heads, and swords, and brocades flowered with the likeness of every shape and colour of the parterre. One ball, in particular, given on the new year's day of the year 17-, is yet held in remembrance, on account of the number of the company, the beauty of the ladies, and the richness of their attire. Our county has been long famed for female loveliness; and our town, in those days, was the residence of many families of note. The happy chance of a regiment being quartered there, gave the liveliness of red coats and gold epaulettes to the party; and the gay country-dance and cotillon were kept up till a late hour, with a spirit which rarely deigns to visit the insipid square of a quadrille. Many a match might be dated from that evening. Many a young beauty had been for months hoarded up, that she might make her first public appearance on that occasion. And not the least strange of the remembrances of the very few who survive to tell of "that happy ball," is the circumstance, that the person universally allowed to be the most beautiful woman in the room, was only a pawnbroker's daughter. Formerly, it may be remembered, that the business of money-lending was mixed up with many other lucrative pursuits, and those who followed it were held even in less esteem than the Jews and usurers of the present day. It was considered by many, therefore, a very audacious thing, that old Vincent's orphan daughter, "should presume to thrust herself among the first people in the town and its neighbourhood;" and many accounted to themselves for the envy which the sight of her beauty excited, by declaring that "they disapproved of her boldness, but that, to be sure, she had been brought up in it." She was, indeed, an exquisitely beautiful creature-tall, well made, with a round luxurious figure, lovely features, a swan-like neck, rich large black eyes, richer carnation lips, and silky black hair, so long, that if it had been let down, it would have veiled her to her knees. One only drawback from the perfection of her loveliness must be mentioned-her hands were extraordinarily long, thin, and large boned; and this exaggeration of form had been so remarkable from her childhood, that her school-fellows had bestowed upon her the agreeable nickname of “Rat-Fingers.” She was dressed, on that evening, in a style which now-a-days would make the fortune of any young lady at a fancy ball. Her robe was of a rich purple damask, embroidered with white silk and gold, in a pattern of large Indian flowers on cane-reed stalks. Over her shoulders was thrown a scarf of that rich lace, which, at a little distance, so closely resembles cut ivory. Her hair was combed back from her forehead in the style of Marie Antoinette, and crossed in front by a chain of small pearls, corresponding in fashion with her necklace; and, except one thick ringlet which escaped in waves over her shoulders, it was covered by a precious cap of Mechlin manufacture. Beneath frills of the same, which terminated her short sleeves, her small round elbow peered daintily out. Her feet were displayed to their utmost advantage, in a pair of highheeled white satin shoes, with ruby buckles. Many an earl's daughter would have abstained from sleeping in a bed for weeks, could she have appeared that night in the costly and becoming costume of Martha Vincent. Criticised and envied as she was, it cannot be supposed that she could have passed a very pleasant evening. Yet, when having deposited the old lady whom she had prevailed upon to escort her, at her lodgings, she had reached home, her attendant (and frequently her confidant) remarked an unusual expression of satisfaction upon her face. This attendant, or, as she herself, inured from childhood to the use of strange thoughts and strange phrases, called him—her familiar, a relation, as some whispered, a natural son of old Vincent's, came in for a full "How do you know that?" said she, turning upon him sharply; "you have not heard." He smiled ambiguously. "I need not have asked, if I had known how you are staring at me," continued she, listlessly. "Yes, I have enjoyed myself!" share of the disapprobation and remark wherewith Martha's establishment was visited. He was one of those unpleasing figures, whom, once having seen, you never wish to look upon again. He was apparently some years older than his pupil, (for he had taught Martha many things,)-a man exceedingly short in stature, and with--and her lips were wreathed with scorn as out a waist. His head, hands, and feet were of unusual size, the two first covered with a coarse brown, parchment-looking skin-his hair was thin, black, and soft-his eyes were set wide asunder from each other -the end of his nose was flattened so much as almost to be wider than the length of his mouth, which lay close under its shadow, the upper lip being uncommonly short and concave. No one could exactly comprehend the terms upon which Antony Barrett and the young heiress, or, as some called them, the Beauty and the Beast, lived together. He did not sit with her in the parlour, except on state occasions, but he performed no menial office of any kind in the household; and it was generally understood that he enjoyed a large share of her confidence. She herself declared, "that he knew so much of her poor dear father's concerns, that she should be lost without him to advise with ;" and, in one or two domestic ars, took his part so decidedly, that her servants very soon found that it was their interest to please him as well as her. On the present occasion, though awaiting her return in the little warm parlour, under pretence of preparing a night-draught for her lest she should catch cold, he made no attempt to talk to her, but stood stirring the mixture over the fire, with an air that seemed to expect, but not to ask for, some communication. 66 Well, Antony," said the Beauty, changing her shoes for a more roomy pair of slippers, lined with ermine; "I suppose you are all curiosity to hear about this ball?" "Whatever you have to tell me, is always welcome." Martha laughed-there was a cold tone in her voice which spoiled its music, and when further disencumbered of her cap, the full blaze of the fire-light shone upon her entirely exposed face, it wore an expression of resolution and triumph. "I am glad to see," said Antony, after perusing her countenance more intently than she was aware of," that you have enjoyed yourself." she spoke. “The grandees abused me— admired me, and in their hearts envied me!" "And you danced with " "Thank you, nobody. I did not choose to be condescended to by sons and brothers, whose haughty mothers and sisters would have sneered at me, and expostulated with them. I refused every partner who asked me; and, in consequence of this, was entreated to change my resolution by all the best men in the room. At one time, I had as many as nine round me, while half-adozen other girls looked on, dying, I say, with envy." "Miss Vincent," said Antony, seriously, you are growing vain.” "I am only what my fortunes have made me. I can see what I am, and what others are, more clearly than the common butterflies of my sex and age. I would fain rule-I despise mankind. How, Sir, dare you laugh, because a pawnbroker's daughter uses such big words?" Antony hastened to explain that he never intended-he could not think...A few words sufficed, as Martha was apparently more busy with her own thoughts, than with his words. She had now taken off her long embroidered silk gloves, and her hands lay upon her knee in such a position as to exhibit most clearly their singular form. "I have seen," she said, in a steady tone, a gentleman, of whom I must see more." "An inhabitant, or a stranger?” "A stranger, certainly. No, none of your proud merchants' sons for me! This is the handsomest man I ever looked upon, with the finest figure, the brightest eye, the noblest tread-with only one, the least possible, tinge of Creole blood." "A yellow man!" said Antony, ventur ing a sneer. "Hold your tongue!" said Martha, rising angrily from her chair. "What is blood to me? What is it to you? You presume upon your footing here! I tell you I will see more of him-know him-love himmarry him, if I please." As she spoke, she swept across the parlour to a mirror, on each side of which were candles in girandoles, which threw a full light upon her majestic figure. She gazed for a moment in proud satisfaction, and repeated confidently-"Ay, marry him, if I please!" "You are positive, lady. Had you much conversation with him? Does he talk as fairly as he looks?" "I never exchanged a word with him. If he saw me, he did not think me worthy of his notice;—but, for all that,” and she clenched her long hands firmly together; "and because of all that, I will conquer him. So you must find him out to-morrow morning, and contrive some pretext for bringing him hither. His name is Winter, and he is at the King's Arms. You have done more difficult things than this; and I leave the way of managing it entirely to your own ingenuity. Only remember that I have set my mind upon it, cost what it will. And, now, give me that wine." She took the china basin from his hand, into which he had poured the richly spiced beverage, and saying firmly, "Success to my wishes!" she raised it to her lips, and drank. "Success has never failed you, hitherto," said her esquire, in a dubious tone. "Nor shall it now," replied she. "Light me yonder candle. Remember what you have to do ;-and good night." The man shrugged his shoulders and smiled as she left the room, and soon after, having carefully extinguished the lights, followed her example. The next morning found Matthew Winter standing alone in the public room of the King's Arms, looking dismayedly out upon a gloomy street, not improved as to liveliness by a steady shower of rain, which fell as though it knew it had the day before it. "After all," said he discontentedly, half aloud, “a ball is a dull thing in a strange town; and what to do with myself to daynever a book, or a man to talk to—and that soaking shower enough to deluge one before one has got to the end of the street. What am I to do with myself, I wonder!" and as he spoke, he took the miniature of a lady from his bosom, looked at it fondly, and kissed it. "Do with yourself!" echoed a voice very near him. "Will you take counsel of me?" "And who are you?" said the lighthearted young man, keeping up the same tone, and turning round suddenly. On seeing the very repulsive countenance of Antony, he recoiled from it, with an involuntary" God bless me!" "You are a stranger here, Sir, I think," said the new comer, "and at a loss how to dispose of your time;-I gathered as much from your soliloquy. Now, I am an idle man, who hates wet weather and solitude as much as you can do. Will you come home with me, and take your chance of such entertainment as you may find there?" "Ahem!" said Winter, drawing up a little. "Aristocratic, I see," remarked Antony to himself. "You must excuse me, Sir, if I have not expressed myself with sufficient courtesy. I say, you must excuse the liberty I have taken, and forget it:" and, assuming the air of a shy man, who feels that he has unwittingly gone too far, he shuffled backwards, as if to leave the room. "Stay, stay," said Winter, to whom the adventure seemed not unpromising, and who was moved by the discomposure of a person apparently so hospitable. "I meant to say that is-I shall be very happy to accept of your hospitality :" although, in the secret of his soul, he intended to be pressed once again, before he ultimately complied. Barrett's countenance brightened up immediately. "Let us go then at once," said he, "my house is not very far; and I think I have some curious books and rarities from foreign parts which may help out our morning; and for the evening, I could almost promise you a guitar, and some passable singing, if I can prevail upon my fair ward.” Winter stopped short in the midst of the floor. There was a tone of taking for granted in his new friend which puzzled him exceedingly, as if some scheme"Nonsense!" said he to himself, "how can I be so vain and suspicious." And, to atone for the vacillation of his manner, he assumed a more frank and cordial tone than he had hitherto used. A short walk under a capacious umbrella brought the two to their place of destination. The appearance of Barrett had not prepared Winter for any thing like the luxury on a small scale which greeted him upon entering old Vincent's house. Every passage and floor was covered with soft Turkey carpets, apparently woven to fit the places which they were designed to cover. Old India cabinets, exquisitely carved ebony chairs, rare stained glass, china of a pearly |