This is, perhaps, too severe. The man who could form and execute such great schemes with such small means, and at such great personal risk, is not to be termed a braggart. But the Duke of Guise must be allowed to have viewed with too sanguine hopes the few chances in his own favour, afforded by the desperate game he played. He should have had a more clear and distinct understanding with the French government, respecting the nature of the undertaking, and the amount of the stipulated succours. Whether it was politic in France to leave him to himself, is a different question. It would have been a masterstroke of Mazarin's policy, if he could have separated Naples from Spain, whether he could or not annex it to France; the first point being gained, the other might have been left to the chance of events, and would probably have taken place. But when the disappointment concerning the French troops was ascertained and indubitable, the edifice of Guise's power, being a mere temporary structure, showy indeed in appearance, but daubed with untempered mortar, was sure to fall into ruins on the slightest force being applied to it. The Duke himself gives us an extraordinary account of the warning he received of his impending fate. On the 2nd of April, as soon as he awoke, he was informed that Cucurullo, a celebrated Italian astrologer, desired to speak with him. Being instantly admitted, this man stated that his object was to obtain a passport and permission to leave Naples, as he had ascertained by consulting the stars, that fortune, which had been hitherto favourable to the Duke, had now turned to the side of the Spaniards; anticipating disturbances, therefore, and anxious to leave a place where he could no longer pursue his studies in tranquillity, he wished to depart forthwith. The astrologer, who had drawn the Duke's horoscope, informed him of the data on which his predictions were grounded; and the Duke very learnedly attempted to prove to him that the danger was passed, and that he had nothing more to fear. Cucurullo, however, confident in his art, assured him that within eight days he would be a prisoner, and offered to wager everything he possessed in proof of the certainty of his prediction. The Duke gave him the passport he demanded, and dismissed him. Naples never seemed more completely in the Duke's power than at the period he was about to lose it for ever. He had resolved to make an expedition against the little island of Nisita, opposite to Pausilippo, where the Spaniards had established themselves. In the midst of a sharp skirmish, a note reached him from Augustino Mollo: "Naples is worth more than a wretched shoal-Return. The city will be presently attacked." Notwithstanding this hint, the Duke, ever eagerly intent on the matter actually before him, continued the attack of Nisita, took one battery, and waited till dawn to get possession of the islet. But ere dawn rose. his kingdom had passed from him. The posts had been reviewed on the preceding evening, by the Duke's command, and the guards never seemed more numerous and vigilant. On the 6th of April, 1648, a general sally was made from all the castles, headed by Don Juan of Austria, and the new viceroy, the Conde d'Oñata. Landi, one of the bravest and, as was thought, most faithful of the Duke of Guise's officers, gave the Spaniards free admission; and hardly even the semblance of opposition was offered to them in the streets, from which they had been so often repulsed. The minds of men were prepared for the alteration of government, as in a theatre for a change of scenes. Nothing was heard from the citizens in the windows, and the populace in the streets, but the cry of "Long live Spain;" and, from the raptures with which Don Juan of Austria was received, he might have been inclined with Charles II. to say, that since everybody was so rejoiced to see him, it must certainly have been his own fault that he was so long absent. Public festivals were celebrated, public rejoicings made, Gennaro rendered up his stronghold Sic furor evanuit tenues populares in auras. After a vain attempt to enter the city, the Duke of Guise, rejecting the advice of such of his followers as recommended to him to fly to Rome by sea, resolved to throw himself into the mountains of Calabria, and renew the war. But his attendants dropped off from him, his movements were watched by the cavalry of the nobility, and many parties formed by his own banditti officers, whose cupidity was now tempted by the reward set on the Duke's head. At length he was made prisoner, but not before he had defended his personal liberty with the same gallantry he had shown in protecting his sovereignty. He was treated with respect by the Neapolitan nobles, to whom he surrendered; but when transferred to the Spaniards, was in some danger of being put to death, as acting under no established flag. Don Juan of Austria prevented this barbarity. The Duke was sent to Spain, where he remained till August 1652, more than four years, in expiation of about as many months of sovereignty. He obtained his freedom by the intercession of the Prince of Condé, then in Guienne, and in alliance with Spain, during the wars of the Fronde in France. Perhaps it was expected by the Spanish ministers, that so active and mercurial a genius might breed disturbances at Paris. Guise, however, to whom Mademoiselle de Pons had proved ungrateful and faithless, seemed more disposed to console himself for her loss by fresh gallantries, than to repair his ruined schemes of ambition by new adventures. He did make another attempt, however, upon Naples, as rash as that of Joachim Murat's last attempt on the same kingdom, but fortunately attended with less tragic consequences; this was in 1654. He made himself master of Castellamare, but was soon obliged to give it up again. After this, his leisure was spent in the “hot vanities” which distinguished Louis the XIV.'s court, where he held the office of grand chamberlain. In the celebrated Carousel of 1662, he distinguished himself particularly; and indeed his parts, perhaps, better fitted him for the dazzling and splendid, than the great and substantial affairs of life. As the Prince of Condé and the Duke of Guise caracoled together along the Place de Carousel-"There they go together," said Cardinal du Retz, “the heroes of history and romance." The Duke of Guise died in 1664, the last who bore that formidable name, the sound of which had so often shaken the throne of France. 356 LIFE AND WORKS OF JOHN HOME. THE memory of Mr. Home, as an author, depends, in England, almost entirely upon his celebrated tragedy of Douglas, which not only retains the most indisputable possession of the stage, but produces a stronger effect on the feelings of the audience, when the parts of Douglas and Lady Randolph are well filled, than almost any tragedy since the days of Otway. There may be something of chance in having hit upon a plot of such general interest, and no author has been more fortunate in seeing the creatures of his imagination personified by the first performers which England could produce. But it is certain, that to be a favourite with those whose business it is to please the public, a tragedy must possess, in a peculiar degree, the means of displaying their powers to advantage; and it is equally clear, that the subject of Douglas, however felicitous in itself, was well suited to the talents of the writer, who treated it so as to enable them to accomplish a powerful effect on the feelings of successive generations of men. It must be interesting, therefore, to the public, to know the history and character of that rarest of all writers in the present age-a successful tragic author; by which we understand, one whose piece has not only received ephemeral success, but has established itself on the stage as one of the best acting plays in the language. There is also much of interest about Home himself, as his character is drawn, and his habits described, in the essay prefixed to these volumes, by the venerable author of the Man of Feeling, who, himself very far advanced in life,* still cherishes the love of letters, and condescends to please at once and instruct those of the present day, who are attached to such pursuits, by placing before them a lively picture of those predecessors at whose feet he was brought up. Neither is it only to Scotland that these annals are interesting. There were men of literature in Edinburgh before she was renowned for romances, reviews, and magazines— * Henry Mackenzie-he died, 1831 in his 86th year. The Life and Works of the Author of Douglas, edited by the venerable Henry Mackenzie, appeared in 3 vols. 8vo, in 1824; and this article in the Quarterly Review for June, 1827. "Vixerunt fortes ante Agamemnona; " and a single glance at the authors and men of science who dignified the last generation, will serve to show that, in those days, there were giants in the North. The names of Hume, Robertson, Fergusson, stand high in the list of British historians. Adam Smith was the father of the economical system in Britain, and his standard work will long continue the text-book of that science. Dr. Black, as a chemist, opened that path of discovery which has since been prosecuted with such success. Of metaphysicians, Scotland boasted, perhaps, but too many : to Hume and Fergusson we must add Reid, and, though younger, yet of the same school, Mr. Dugald Stewart. In natural philosophy, Scotland could present Professor Robison, James Watt, whose inventions have led the way to the triumphs of human skill over the elements, and Clerk, of Eldin, who taught the British seaman the road to assured conquest. Others we could mention; but these form a phalanx, whose reputation was neither confined to this narrow, poor, and rugged native country, nor to England and the British dominions, but known and respected wherever learning, philosophy, and science were honoured. It is to this distinguished circle, or, at least, to the greater part of its members, that Mr. Mackenzie introduces his readers; and they must indeed be void of curiosity who do not desire to know something more of such men than can be found in their works, and especially when the communication is made by a contemporary so well entitled to ask, and so well qualified to command, attention. We will endeavour, in the first place, to give some account of Mr. Home's life and times, as we find them detailed by their excellent biographer, and afterwards more briefly advert to his character as an author. Mr. John Home was the son of Mr. Alexander Home, town-clerk of Leith. His grandfather was a son of Mr. Home, of Floss, a lineal descendant of Sir James Home, of Coldingknowes, ancestor of the present Earl of Home. The poet, as is natural to a man of imagination, was tenacious of being descended from a family of rank, whose representatives were formerly possessed of power scarcely inferior to that of the great Douglasses, and well-nigh as fatal both to the crown and to themselves. We have seen a copy of verses addressed by Home to Lady Kinloch, of Gilmerton, in which he contrasts his actual situation with his ancient descent. They begin nearly thus,—for it must be noticed we quote from memory: "Sprung from the ancient nobles of the land, and the general tone and spirit are those of one who feels himself by birth and spirit placed above a situation of dependence to which for the time he was condemned. The same family pride glances out |