HIS LAST YEARS AND DEATH. 4 assistance was thought so valuable that it was regularly retained by the Government ; whose books commanded a large and ready sale; who could dower his daughters at their marriage, could purchase land, and build for himself a “ handsome house ;’’"—such a man cannot surely be considered an example of the ill-fortune that sometimes assails the politician and the littérateur. Political opponents Joaded him with calumny and abuse; but De Foe lived in times when “ hard hitting’ was the rule, and not the excep- tion, when no such standard of courtesy was recognized by political writers as common consent of late years has established. We think, therefore, that the pity poured out upon De Foe by sentimental biographers is, to a great extent, unnecessary ; and we believe that his life affords a favourable ex- ample of the success which attends unflagging industry, indefatigable per- severance, and honourable consistency. One bitter sorrow, indeed, overclouded the later years of this great-hearted man, but that came from within, not from without—from his own family hearth, and not from his political foes. The misconduct of his second son was a thorn in his side which wounded deeply. His father had placed large confidence in him; he violated it; and by violating it temporarily deprived his mother and sisters of considerable resources. The evil was magnified by the timidity and apprehension natural to old age, and De Foe wrote of it in exaggerated language :—‘ 1 depended upon him, I trusted him, I gave up my two dear unprovided children into his hands: but he has no compassion, and suffers them and their poor dear dying mother [she out- lived her husband some eighteen months] to beg their bread at his door and to crave, as if it were an alms, what he is bound, under hand and seal, besides the most sacred promises, to supply them with; himself, at the same time, living in a profusion of plenty.” The money, however, was recovered, and De Foe's family left in comfortable circumstances. Our brief summary of a life of action must here conclude. We have traced the politician and the man of letters through the chief phases of his history, to that “ final limit” where all labour, and sorrow, and disappointment end. Towards the close of the year 1780 he removed from his house at Stoke New- ington, “ a commodious mansion in about four acres of ground,” to London, and took lodgings in what was then a pleasant and reputable locality, Rope- maker's Alley, Moorfields. ere he died of a lethargy, on the evening of Monday, ihe 26th of April 1781, in the seventy-first year of his age. He was buried in Bunhill Fields, where his tomb will ever be regarded with interest by all admirers of manly genius and incorruptible integrity. W.H. D. A.