AINSWORTH'S LATIN DICTIONARY, Stereotyped, without abridgement, from the original folio Edition of By WILLIAM ELLIS, Esq. M.A. "Encouraged, we trust, by the deserved success of the edition of Johnson's Dictionary in one large 8vo volume, we have here its Latin counterpart -a publication on which we do not hesitate to bestow our most unqualified praise. Ainsworth's has always been, what it merited, a popular Thesaurus; and for ready reference to the student, none better could be constructed. There were, however, as there must be in all works of the kind, many errors, either original, or such as had crept in through careless reprinting; and we are glad to see a multitude of these rectified by the industry and judgment of the present editor. In other respects, also, great and notorious improvements have been effected-retrenchment of what was obsolete or unnecessary, and amplification where the nature of the explanations required it. Altogether (and we have looked carefully through many intricate examples to enable us to give this honest opinion)altogether we can most unreservedly recommend this volume as one of the best guides to early classical attainments, and also one of the completest Latin Dictionaries, that has ever courted public favour."-Literary Gazette. JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY, Complete in One Volume, price L.2, 2s. in Cloth. A DICTIONARY of the ENGLISH LANGUAGE, in which the Words are deduced from their originals, and illustrated in their different Significations by Examples from the best Writers: to which are prefixed, a History of the Language, and an English Gram mar. By SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. Stereotyped verbatim from the Last Edition corrected "This Edition of JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY, stereotyped verbatim from the last folio Edition corrected by the Doctor,' is eminently deserving of notice for its accuracy, the beauty of its Typography and the character of its Arrangements."-Literary Gazette. "As a specimen of Typographical art, the Work before us is a splendid contribution to our Libraries. It unites elegance, durabi lity, exquisite accuracy, and convenience of form, in a manner altogether unprecedented."-Monthly Review. HENRY'S BIBLE COMPLETE. In three handsome vols. imperial 8vo, price L.3, 15s. in Cloth, AN EXPOSITION of the OLD and NEW TESTAMENT. By MATTHEW HENRY, V.D.M. To which are prefixed, the Memoirs of the Life, Character, and Writings of the Author. By J. B. WILLIAMS, Esq. F.S.A. "It may almost seem presumptuous to venture upon any recommendation of the greatest English commentator on the Holy Scriptures; and having recently expressed a decided opinion as to the merits of Matthew Henry's Bible, it is quite unnecessary to repeat former commendations. This we will say, that every man ought to possess this great man's Commentary who can afford it. With this feeling strongly fixed on our minds, we are truly glad to introduce to our readers an edition of this extraordinary work, which, in compactness and economy, far surpasses every former attempt; and which demonstrates the ingenuity and taste of the enterprising printer who has supplied a desideratum so worthy of the age. The public are greatly indebted to the man who thus places a valuable and expensive work within the reach of persons of ordinary means. The Life prefixed to this edition is the one lately furnished by Mr Williams, a descendant of Matthew Henry's family, and a sincere lover of all nonconformist memorials. The printer and the publisher have our warmest thanks."-Evan. Mag. This Edition is also published in Parts, at 3s. each, and may be taken periodically, at the convenience of Purchasers; and for the further accommodation of the Public, this Work may be had in Weekly Numbers, at One Shilling each. Sold by all Booksellers in the United Kingdom. London: JOSEPH OGLE ROBINSON, 12, Poultry; sold by CONSTALLE & Co. Edinburgh. Edinburgh: CONSTABLE and Co. London: HURST, CHANCE, and Co. The Second Volume will appear on the 7th November, and, in addition to the usual Vignette, will contain a fine Portrait of Cromwell NAVAL SKETCHES. In a handsome 12mo Volume, price 4s. boards, LIFE on BOARD a MAN-OF-WAR; including a Full Account of The BATTLE of NAVARINO. This little work consists of a succinct Narrative of the personal adventures of a British Sailor in his Majesty's Service, from his first entering on board till the period of his discharge after the Battle of Navarino; and illustrates, by a series of sketches, the char eter, manners, and habits of British Tars, who form so peculiar and interesting a class of the community. It also embraces Sketches of the Maltese, Portuguese, &c. As the Narrator served in the Genoa, ate the Battle of Navarino, a full account is given of all that came under his own observation during that sanguinary conflict, and much new light is thrown on the conduct of that Vessel and its Commander, regarding which so great an interest has been excited in the publie mind by the recent Court-Martial at Portsmouth. BLACKIE, FULLARTON, & Co. Glasgow; A. FULLARTON & Co. Edinburgh; W. F. WAKEMAN, Dublin; and JAMES DUNCAN London. Art. I. Phrenology.-II. Letters on Germany, by a German -III. Modern French Drama.-IV. Müller; the Dorians.-V. Bourriente; Napoleon Buonaparte.-VI. Political Economy-VII. Goldoni, Gozzi, Nota, Giraud; Modern Italian Comedy.-VIII. The Cid.IX. General Jackson; The United States of America.-X.—XV. SHORT REVIEWS OF THE NEWEST CLASSICAL, ITALIAN, FRENCH, SPANISH, GERMAN, AND DANISH PUBLICATIONS -XVI. Conti nental Literary Intelligence.-XVII. Important Foreign Publications of the last Three Months. London: BLACK, YOUNG, & YOUNG; BOSSANGE & Co.; and WHITTAKER & Co.; T. CLARK, Edinburgh; HODGES & SMITE, Dublin. NO. IX. WILL BE PUBLISHED IN DECEMBER. LITERARY CRITICISM. The Keepsake, for 1830. Edited by Frederick Mansel THIS is the most costly of all the Annuals. PRICE 6d. the piece is sent as a contribution to the Keepsake, where its demerits may be hidden amid the beauties of more valuable articles." The plot of this tragedy, which is entitled "The House of Aspen," may be stated in a few words. Rudiger, Baron of Aspen, an old German warrior, is married to Isabella, and by her has two sons, George and Henry. Isabella, when very young, had been married against her will to Arnolf of Ebersdorf, and it was not till his death that she was able to espouse her first love, Rudiger. At the commencement of the drama, we find the old Baron confined, by a recent accident, to his castle, while his sons, George and Henry, are in the field against their neighbour, Roderic, Count of Maltingen, the hereditary enemy of the House of Aspen. They give him battle, and return victorious, to the great joy of their father, and the no less joy of his niece, Gertrude, who is betrothed to Henry, the younger of the brothers. George, however, notwithstanding his success, brings back with him a hea It sells for a guinea, and the others for twelve shillings. It ought, therefore, to be superior to any of them, and this year we think it is. The embellishments, of which there are eighteen, including the presentation plate, are truly beautiful; and the literary contents, especially in so far as regards the prose, are highly interesting, and of much in- | trinsic merit. The illustrations we shall not at present stop to describe, being well aware that any description could but feebly convey to the reader the pleasure to be derived from the actual contemplation of works of art so splendid and select. Wilkie's picture, however, of the "Princess Doria washing the feet of the Pilgrims," we must barely mention; as also "The Bride," by Leslie,vy heart, for his attendant, Martin, having been severely the " Widow of Ems," by Deveria, and the "Prophet of St Paul's," by Chalon, chefs-d'œuvre which would reflect credit on any age or country. With the last, in particular, we are charmed to an extraordinary degree. Much as we have admired some of Chalon's works, we did not think he was able to produce any thing so fine as this. The female figure is almost perfect in its loveliness, and contrasts with the Black Page and the old Astrologer, both exquisitely conceived, in a manner too delightful ever to be forgotten after being once seen. Charles Heath has bestowed all his labour upon the engraving, and every one knows, that when Charles Heath labours, it is with almost unequalled delicacy of touch, and invariably with an effect and a success correspondent. The first article in the volume is a Tragedy in prose, by Sir Walter Scott, which is of itself enough to secure the success of the work. In a short prefatory notice, Sir Walter informs us, that this tragedy was written nearly thirty years ago, and was modelled upon the German school of dramatic writing, which at that time had become fashionable, in consequence of the impression which the productions of Goethe and Schiller had made upon the British public. The story was partly taken from a German romance, but the scenes and incidents were much altered. It was at one time on the point of being produced at Drury Lane, when John Kemble and his sister, Mrs Siddons, would have supported the principal parts; but some doubts whether the plot was such as to secure its success with an English audience ultimately prevented its representation, and it has lain in neglect and obscurity ever since. "Very lately," says Sir Walter, "the writer chanced to look over the scenes of this work, with feelings very different from those of the adventurous period of his literary life during which they had been written, and yet with such as perhaps a reformed libertine might regard the illegitimate production of an early amour. There is something to be ashamed of certainly; but, after all, paternal vanity whispers that the child has a resemblance to the father." "Being of too small a size or consequence,” he modestly adds, “for a separate publication, wounded in the fight, and imagining himself at the point of death, had informed him that Arnolf, his mother's first husband, had not died in the common course of na- : ture, but had been carried off by poison administered to him by Isabella herself through the agency of Martin. Laden with this terrible secret, and scarcely knowing whether to believe it or not, especially when he considered the character for sanctity and good deeds which his mother had acquired, George seeks an interview with her, and, after an interesting and well-wrought scene, becomes convinced of his mother's guilt. Meantime, Martin had been taken prisoner by Roderic, the hostile chief, who also, through this means, becomes acquainted with Isabella's crime. The knowledge at once points out to him a method by which he might be effectually revenged upon the House of Aspen for its late successes. Roderic is an influential member of the Invisible Tribunal—a secret association of a very dangerous kind, which then existed in Germany, and of which George of Aspen was likewise a member. One of the rules of this association was, that its members bound themselves by most solemn oaths to conceal from the Tribunal no crime whatever which might come to their knowledge, though perpetrated by those who were nearest and dearest to them. The penalty of concealment was death; and where there was no concealment, the person accused was dragged before those secret avengers, tried, and, if found guilty, executed on the spot. Roderic, therefore, loses no time in summoning a meeting of the Tribunal, imagining that he would thus have both George in his power, who could scarcely be expected to denounce his mother, and Isabella also, who, through the evidence of Martin, could easily be convicted. As soon as George received the summons to attend the meeting, he perceived its object, and that his only chance of saving his mother depended on his being previously able to get the witness' Martin out of the hands of Roderic. With this view he dispatches a minstrel, who had lately come to the castle, of Aspen, and who, by changing his dress with Martin, and remaining himself in his stead, succeeds in enabling the former to effect his escape. Roderic is, of course, much exasperated when he discovers the stratagem, and, in his rage, he explains to the minstrel the reason why Martin's rescue was so much wished for by the house of Aspen. The minstrel is thunderstruck, and declares himself to be Bertram of Ebersdorf, brother to Isabella's first husband, and that he had assumed the disguise of a minstrel, in consequence of his having incurred the displeasure of the Government. He now announces his intention to Roderic to attend the approaching meeting of the Invisible Tribunal, and do all in his power to aid in revenging the murder of his brother. It is here that the fourth act closes, and the catastrophe is wound up in the fifth, at the meeting of the Tribunal. We shall extract a part of this ably-executed scene: ACT V.-SCENE I. The subterranean chapel of the Castle of Griefenhaus. It seems deserted, and in decay. There are four entrances, each defended by an iron portal. At each door stands a warder, clothed in black, and masked, armed with a naked sword. During the whole scene they remain motionless on their posts. In the centre of the chapel is the ruinous altar, half sunk in the ground, on which lie a large book, a dagger and a coil of ropes, beside two lighted tapers. Antique stone benches of different heights around the chapel. In the back scene is seen a dilapidated entrance into the Sacristy, which is quite dark. he Various members of the Invisible Tribunal enter by the four different doors of the chapel. Each whispers something as passes the Warder, which is answered by an inclination of the head. The costume of the members is a long black robe capable of muffling the face: some wear it in this manner; others have their faces uncovered, unless on the entrance of a stranger: they place themselves in profound silence upon the stone benches. Enter COUNT RODERIC dressed in a scarlet cloak of the same form with those of the other members. He takes his place on the most elevated bench. Rod. Warders, secure the doors! (The doors are barred with great care.) Rod. Herald, do thy duty! (Members all rise-Herald stands by the altar.) Herald. Members of the Invisible Tribunal, who judge in secret and avenge in secret, like the Deity, are your hearts free from malice, and your hands from blood-guiltiness? (All the Members incline their heads.) Rod. God pardon our sins of ignorance, and preserve us from those of presumption! (Again the Members solemnly incline their heads.) Her. To the east, and to the west, and to the north, and to the south, I raise my voice; wherever there is treason, wherever there is blood-guiltiness, wherever there is sacrilege, sorcery, robbery, or perjury, there let this curse alight, and pierce the marrow and the bone. Raise, then, your voices, and say with me, Woe! woe! unto offenders! All. Woe! woe! (Members sit down.) Her. He who knoweth of an unpunished crime, let him stand forth, as bound by his oath when his hand was laid upon the dagger and upon the cord, and call to the assembly for vengeance. Member. (Rises, his face covered.) Vengeance! Vengeance! Vengeance! Rod. Upon whom dost thou invoke vengeance? Accuser. Upon a brother of this order, who is forsworn and perjured to its laws. Rod. Relate his crime. Accuser. This perjured brother was sworn, upon the steel and upon the cord, to denounce malefactors to the judgment-seat from the four quarters of heaven, though it were the spouse of his heart, or the son whom he loved as the apple of his eye; yet did he conceal the guilt of one who was dear unto him; he folded up the crime from the knowledge of the Tribunal; he removed the evidence of guilt, and withdrew the criminal from justice. What does his perjury deserve? Rod. Accuser, come before the altar; lay thy hand upon the dagger and the cord, and swear to the truth of thy ac cusation. Accuser. (His hand on the altar.) I swear! Eldest Mem. Our voice is, that the perjured brother merits death. Rod. Accuser, thou hast heard the voice of the assembly; name the criminal. Accuser. George, Baron of Aspen. (A murmur in the assembly.) A Member (suddenly rising.) I am ready, according to our holy laws, to swear, by the steel and the cord, that George of Aspen merits not this accusation, and that it is a foul calumny. Accuser. Rash man! gagest thou an oath so lightly? Member. I gage innocence and virtue. it not lightly. I proffer it in the cause Accuser. What if George of Aspen should not himself deny the charge? of Member. Then would I never trust man again. Accuser. Hear him, then, bear witness against himself. (Throws back his mantle.) Kod. Baron George of Aspen! Geo. The same-prepared to do penance for the crime of which he stands self-accused. Rod. Still, canst thou disclose the name of the criminal whom thou hast rescued from justice: on that condition alone, thy brethren may save thy life. Geo. Thinkest thou I would betray, for the safety of my life, a secret I have preserved at the breach of my word?— No! I have weighed the value of my obligation-I will not discharge it but most willingly will I pay the penalty! Rod. Retire, George of Aspen, till the assembly pronounce judgment. Gco. Welcome be your sentence-I am weary of your yoke of iron. A light beams on my soul. Woe to those who seek Justice in the dark haunts of mystery and cruel. ty! She dwells in the broad blaze of the sun, and Mercy is ever by her side. Woe to those who would advance the general weal by trampling upon the social affections! they aspire to be more than men-they shall become worse than tigers. I go: better for me your altars should be stained with my blood, than my soul blackened with your crimes. (Exit George by the ruinous door in the back scene, into the Sacristy.) Rod. Brethren, sworn upon the steel, and upon the cord, to judge and to avenge in secret, without favour and without pity, what is your judgment upon George of Aspen, self-accused of perjury, and resistance to the laws of our fraternity? (Long and earnest murmurs in the assembly.) Rod. Speak your doom. Eldest Mem. George of Aspen has declared himself perjured-the penalty of perjury is death! Rod. Father of the Secret Judges-eldest among those who avenge in secret-take to thee the steel and the cord; let the guilty no longer cumber the land. Eldest Mem. I am fourscore and eight years old. My eyes are dim, and my hand is feeble; soon shall I be called to the throne of my Creator. How shall I stand there, stained with the blood of such a man? Rod. How wilt thou stand before that throne, loaded with the guilt of a broken oath? The blood of the criminal be upon us and ours! Eldest Mem. So be it, in the name of God! (He takes the dagger from the altar, goes slowly towards Rod. Hast thou done thy duty? Rod. Judges of evil, dooming in secret, and avenging in secret, like the Deity, God keep your thoughts from evil, and your hands from guilt!" Isabella is afterwards brought in and accused by Bertram. Finding that there is no hope of escape, she stabs herself and dies. Further cruelties, about to be perpetra Rod. Wilt thou take upon thyself the penalty of perjury ted by the Tribunal on the old Baron Rudiger, are inter should it be found false? Accuser. I will rupted by the arrival of the Duke of Bavaria, who ba Rod. Brethren, what is your sentence? (The Membersnishes Roderic and Bertram from the empire; and the confer a moment in whispers—a silence.) reader being allowed to suppose that Henry will ulti mately be married to Gertrude, both of whom are subordinate characters, the play concludes. more. But to return. I am determined to have all the mo-' neys I can, whether by my own funds, or succession, or lawsuit, or MSS., or any lawful means whatever. I will pay (though with the sincerest reluctance) my remaining creditors, and every man of law, by instalments, from the in Mr Hanson's letter, on the demand of moneys for the awards of my arbitrators. I recommend to you the notice Rochdale tolls. Above all, I recommend my interests to your honourable worship. Recollect, too, that I expect some moneys for the various MSS., (no matter what ;) and, in short, Rem, quocunque modo, Rem!' The noble feeling of cupidity grows upon us with our years. "Yours ever and truly, | Athenian world. The circulars are arrived, and circulating like the vortices (or vortex's) of Descartes. Still I have As to the merits of this composition, it will be evident, a due care of the needful, and keep a look-out a-head. As my even from the brief sketch we have now given, that it is with all men's who have lived to see that every guinea is a notions upon the score of moneys coincide with yours, and entirely German, both in its conception and execution. philosopher's stone, or at least his touchstone, you will By this we mean that the truth and simplicity of nature doubt me the less when I pronounce my firm belief that are rendered subordinate to strong effect and strange situ- cash is virtue. I cannot reproach myself with much expendation, and that, for the sake of presenting a sort of meta-iture, my only extra expense (and it is more than I have physical puzzle in the character of Isabella, whom we spent upon myself) being a loan of two hundred and fifty cannot help liking, though she is a murderess, all probabi- pounds to, and fifty pounds' worth of furniture which I have bought him, and a boat which I am building for lity is disregarded. There is a morbid gloom cast over the whole production, which is disagreeable, because it is myself at Genoa, which will cost about a hundred pounds not like human life. At the same time, we readily grant that this is the fault of the school from which Sir Walter Scott borrowed, and it was a fault which, under the circumstances, he could not avoid. In other respects, the play is well conceived, and the individual scenes are spiritedly filled up. It would act well, and we are quite sure that, considering the present reputation of its author, any manager who brings it upon the stage, will find the speculation a highly profitable one. We believe it was stated, in the case of Lord Byron's tragedies, that no injunction could be granted against the performance of any published play; and why, therefore, might not the manager of the Theatre Royal here commence his winter campaign in November with this tragedy? He may depend upon it, it would have a run. There is abundance of melo-dramatic interest, and the fact of its being by Sir Walter Scott would fill the house for many nights. The parts, too, could be exceedingly well cast with his present company. Murray himself should play the old Baron, Rudiger; Miss Jarman or Mrs H. Siddons, Isabella; Vandenhoff or Barton, George of Aspen; Denham, Roderic; Montague Stanley, Henry, and the other inferior parts could be well filled up. This is worth thinking of either here or in London; but to get the start is the great thing. The article next in interest in the Keepsake, consists of nine unpublished Letters of Lord Byron, the three last of which are from Greece. We shall select the two we like most, which were written from Italy, and are principally upon literary topics: TWO LETTERS BY LORD BYRON. "Pisa, Feb. 6, 1822. "My Dear -- Try back the deep lane,' till we find a publisher for the Vision;' and if none such is to be found, print fifty copies at my expense, distribute them amongst my acquaintance, and you will soon see that the booksellers will publish them even if we opposed them. That they are now afraid is natural; but I do not see that I ought to give way on that account. I know nothing of Rivington's Remonstrance,' by the Eminent Churchman;' but I suppose he wants a living. I once heard of a preacher at Kentish Town against Cain.' The same outcry was raised against Priestley, Hume, Gibbon, Voltaire, and all the men who dared to put tithes to the question. "NOEL BYRON." "Genoa, November, 1822. "My Dear--I have finished the twelfth canto of Don Juan, which I will forward when copied. With the sixth, seventh, and eighth in one volume, and the ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth in another, the whole may form two volumes, of about the same size as the two former. There are some good things in them, as perhaps may be allowed. Perhaps one volume had better be published with one publisher, and the other with another; it would be a new experiment: or one in one month, and another in the What thinkest thou? Murray, next, or both at once. (guineas) a-canto for as many as I might choose to write. long after the 'piracies,' offered me a thousand pounds He has since departed from this proposal, for it was too much, and I would not take advantage of it. You must, however, use your own judgment with regard to the MSS., and let me know what you propose; presuming alwayswhat may at least be but a presumption-that the seven new cantos are, on the whole, equal to the five former. Suppose Hunt, or somebody else, were to publish one canto aweek, upon the same size and paper, to correspond with the various former editions? but this is merely as a vision, and may be very foolish, for aught I know. I have read the defence of Cain, which is very good; who can be the author? As to myself, I shall not be deterred by any outery; your present public hate me, but they shall not interrupt the march of my mind, nor prevent me from telling those who are attempting to trample on all thought, that their thrones shall yet be rocked to their foundations. It is Madame de Stael who says, 'that all talent has a propensity to attack the strong.' I have never flattered—whether it be or be not a proof of talent. "I have just seen the illustrious, who came to visi"I have got's pretended reply, to which I am sur- tate me here. I had not seen him these ten years. He had prised that you do not allude. What remains to be done, is a black wig, and has been made a knight for writing against to call him out. The question is, would he come? For, if the Queen. He wants a diplomatic situation, and seems he would not, the whole thing would appear ridiculous, if likely to want it. He found ine thinner even than in 1813; I were to take a long and expensive journey to no purpose. for since my late illness at Lerici, in my way here, I have You must be my second, and, as such, I wish to consult subsided into my more meagre outline, and am obliged to you. I apply to you as one well versed in the duello or Mo-be very abstinent, by medical advice, on account of liver nomachie. Of course, I shall come to England as privately as possible, and leave it (supposing that I was the survivor) in the same manner, having no other object which could bring me to that country except to settle quarrels accumulated during my absence. "By the last post I transmitted to you a letter upon some Rochdale toll business, from which there are moneys in prospect. My agent says two thousand pounds, but supposing it to be only one, or even one hundred, still they be moneys, and I have lived long enough to have an exceeding respect for the smallest current coin of any realm, or the least sum, which, although I may not want it myself, may do something for others who may need it more than I. They say that knowledge is power,'-I used to think so; but I now know that they meant money:' and when Socrates declared, that all he knew was, that he knew nothing,' he merely intended to declare, that he had not a drachm in the and what not. But to the point, or, at least, my point, in mentioning this new chevalier. Ten years ago I lent him a thousand pounds, on condition that he would not go to the Jews. Now, as Mr is a purchaser of bonds, will he purchase this of me? or will any body else, at a discount? "I have been invited by the Americans on board of their squadron here, and received with the greatest kindness, and rather too much ceremony. They have asked me to sit for my picture to an American artist now in Florence. As I was preparing to depart, an American lady took a rose which I wore from me, and said that she wished to send something which I had about me to America. They showed me two American editions of my poems, and all kinds of attention and good-will. I also hear that, as an author, I am in high request in Germany. All this is some compensation for the desertion of the English. Would you write a German line to Goethe for me, explaining the omission Of the prose tales in this volume, the three by Mrs Shelley, the authoress of Frankenstein, appear to us the best. Theodore Hooke has contributed rather a dull and commonplace story, called "The Bride;" the author of "Granby" an amusing" Dialogue for the year 2130;" whilst Lord Normanby, the authors of the "O'Hara Tales,” “Anastasius," the "Hungarian Tales," and "Hajji Baba,” have all supplied respectable stories. We prefer selecting, as a specimen, one of Mrs Shelley's, which has the advantage of being at once short and prettily told: "On a fine July day, the fair Margaret, Queen of Navarre, then on a visit to her royal brother, had arranged a rural feast for the morning following, which Francis declined attending. He was melancholy; and the cause was said to be some lover's-quarrel with a favourite dame. The morrow came, and dark rain and murky clouds destroyed at once the schemes of the courtly throng. Margaret was angry, and she grew weary: her only hope for amusement was in Francis, and he had shut himself up-an excellent reason why she should the more desire to see him. She entered his apartment: he was standing at the casement, against which the noisy shower beat, writing with a diamond on the glass. Two beautiful dogs were his sole companions. As Queen Margaret entered, he hastily let down the silken curtain before the window, and looked a little confused. "What treason is this, my liege,' said the Queen,' which crimsons your cheek? I must see the same.' "It is treason,' replied the King; and, therefore, sweet sister, thou mayest not see it.' "This the more excited Margaret's curiosity, and a playful contest ensued: Francis at last yielded: he threw himself on a huge high-backed settee; and as the lady drew back the curtain with an arch smile, he grew grave and sentimental, as he reflected on the cause which had inspired his libel against all womankind. 666 What have we here?' cried Margaret: nay, this is lêse-majesté 'Souvent femme varie, Bien fou qui s'y fie!' Very little change would greatly amend your couplet :Would it not run better thus? 'Souvent homme varie, Bien folle qui s'y fie!' I could tell you twenty stories of man's inconstancy.' "I will be content with one true tale of woman's fideli. ty,' said Francis dryly; but do not provoke me. I would fain be at peace with the soft Mutabilities, for thy dear sake.' "I defy your grace,' replied Margaret rashly, to instance the falsehood of one noble and well-reputed dame.' "Not even Emilie de Lagny?' asked the King. "This was a sore subject for the Queen. Emilie had been brought up in her own household, the most beautiful and the most virtuous of her maids of honour. She had long loved the Sire de Lagny, and their nuptials were cele brated with rejoicings but little ominous of the result. De Lagny was accused but a year after of traitorously yielding to the Emperor a fortress under his command, and he was condemned to perpetual imprisonment. For some time Emilie seemed inconsolable, often visiting the miserable dungeon of her husband, and suffering, on her return from witnessing his wretchedness, such paroxysms of grief as threatened her life. Suddenly, in the midst of her sorrow, she disappeared; and enquiry only divulged the disgraceful fact, that she had escaped from France, bearing her jewels with her, and accompanied by her page Robinet Leroux. It was whispered, that during their journey the lady and the stripling often occupied one chamber; and Margaret, enraged at these discoveries, commanded that no further quest should be made for her lost favourite. "Taunted now by her brother, she defended Emilie, declaring that she believed her to be guiltless; even going so far as to boast, that within a month she would bring proof of her innocence. "Robinet was a pretty boy,' said Francis, laughing. "Let us make a bet,' cried Margaret: If I lose, I will bear this vile rhyme of thine as a motto, to my shame, to my grave; if I win "I will break my window, and grant thee whatever boon thou askest.' "The result of this bet was long sung by troubadour and minstrel. The Queen employed a hundred emissaries— published rewards for any intelligence of Emilie-all in vain. The month was expiring, and Margaret would have given many bright jewels to redeem her word. On the eve of the fatal day, the jailor of the prison in which the Sire de Lagny was confined, sought an audience of the Queen; he brought her a message from the knight to say, that if the Lady Margaret would ask his pardon as her boon, and obtain from her royal brother that he might be brought before him, her bet was won. Fair Margaret was very joyful, and readily made the desired promise. Francis was unwilling to see his false servant, but he was in high goodhumour, for a cavalier had that morning brought intelligence of a victory over the Imperialists. The messenger himself was lauded in the dispatches, as the most fearless and bravest knight in France. The King loaded him with presents, only regretting that a vow prevented the soldier from raising his visor, or declaring his name. "That same evening, as the setting sun shone on the lattice on which the ungallant rhyme was traced, Francis reposed on the same settee; and the beautiful Queen of Navarre, with triumph in her bright eyes, sat beside him. Attended by guards, the prisoner was brought in; his frame was attenuated by privation, and he walked with tottering steps. He knelt at the feet of Francis, and uncovered his head; a quantity of rich golden hair, then escaping, fell over the sunken cheeks and pallid brow of the suppliant. We have treason here,' cried the King: Sir Jailor, where your prisoner?' is 666 Sire, blame him not,' said the soft, faltering voice of Emilie, wiser men than he have been deceived by woman. My dear lord was guiltless of the crime for which he suffered. There was but one mode to save him. I assumed his chains-he escaped with poor Robinet Leroux in my attire-he joined your army: the young and gallant cavalier who delivered the dispatches to your grace, whom you overwhelmed with honours and reward, is my own Enguerrard de Lagny. I waited but for his arrival with testimonials of his innocence, to declare myself to my lady, the queen. Has she not won her bet? And the boon she asks-' "Is De Lagny's pardon,' said Margaret, as she also knelt to the king: Spare your faithful vassal, sire, and reward this lady's truth.' "Francis first broke the false-speaking window, then he raised the ladies from their supplicatory posture. "In the tournament given to celebrate this Triumph of Ladies,' the Sire de Lagny bore off every prize; and surely there was more loveliness in Emilie's faded cheekmore grace in her emaciated form, type as they were of truest affection, than in the prouder bearing and fresher complexion of the most brilliant beauty in attendance on the courtly festival!" In the poetical department, the Keepsake for 1830 is not so good as that for 1829, and is decidedly inferior to the Souvenir. The editor, Mr Mansel Reynolds, has wisely excluded any of his own verses; but he seems moreover to be an indifferent judge of poetry, and he has, besides, been evidently anxious to have as many titled names as possible in his list of contributors, which was, of itself, enough to knock the poetry of his book on the head. Lords Porchester, Holland, Morpeth, and Nugent, and Messieurs the Honourable George Agar Ellis, Charles Phipps, and Henry Liddell, may keep, for aught we know to the contrary, excellent French cooks, and be the most desirable acquaintances in the world; but Mr Mansel Reynolds has committed a grievous fault in al i |