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entrailles. Les mets les plus exquis le dégoûtent. Ses enfans, loin d'être son espérance, sont le sujet de sa terreur il en a fait ses plus dangereux ennemis. Il n'a eu toute sa vie aucun moment d'assuré : il ne se conserve qu'à force de repandre le sang de tous ceux qu'il craint. Insensé, qui ne voit pas que sa cru auté, à laquelle il se confie, le fera périr! Quelqu'un de ses domestiques, aussi défiant que lui, se hâtera de délivrer le monde de ce monstre."

The instructive, but appalling scene of this tyrant's sufferings, was at length closed by death, 30th August, 1485. The selection of this remarkable person as the principal character in the romance-for it will be easily comprehended, that the little love intrigue of Quentin is only employed as the means of bringing out the story-afforded considerable facilities to the author. The whole of Europe was, during the fifteenth century, convulsed with dissensions from such various causes, that it would have required almost a dissertation to have brought the English reader with a mind perfectly alive and prepared to admit the possibility of the strange scenes to which he was introduced.

tious men can afford him advantage. The example of Louis | gémissemens, il ne peut cacher les remords qui déchirent ses XI. raised disgust and suspicion rather than a desire of imitation among other nations in Europe, and the circumstance of his outwitting more than one of his contemporaries, operated to put others on their guard. Even the system of chivalry, though much less generally extended than heretofore, survived this profligate monarch's reign, who did so much to sully its lustre, and long after the death of Louis XI. it inspired the Knight without Fear and Reproach, and the gallant Francis I. Indeed, although the reign of Louis had been as successful in a political point of view as he himself could have desired, the spectacle of his deathbed might of itself be a warning-piece against the seduction of his example. Jealous of every one, but chiefly of his own son, he immured himself in his Castle of Plessis, intrusting his person exclusively to the doubtful faith of his Scottish mercenaries. He never stirred from his chamber; he admitted no one into it, and wearied Heaven and every saint with prayers, not for the forgiveness of his sins, but for the prolongation of his life. With a poverty of spirit totally inconsistent with his shrewd worldly sagacity, he importuned his physicians, until they insulted as well as plundered him. In his extreme desire of life, he sent to Italy for supposed relics, and the yet more extraordinary importation of an ignorant crack-brained peasant, who, from laziness probably, had shut himself up in a cave, and renounced flesh, fish, eggs, for the produce of the dairy. This man, who did not possess the slight est tincture of letters, Louis reverenced as if he had been the Pope himself, and to gain his good will founded two cloisters. It was not the least singular circumstance of this course of superstition, that bodily health and terrestrial felicity seemed to be his only objects. Making any mention of his sins when talking on the state of his health, was strictly prohibited; and when at his command a priest recited a prayer to Saint Eutropius, in which he recommended the King's welfare both in body and soul, Louis caused the two last words to be omitted, saying it was not prudent to importune the blessed saint by too many requests at once. Perhaps he thought by being silent on his crimes, he might suffer them to pass out of the recollection of the celestial patrons, whose aid he invoked for his body. So great were the well-merited tortures of this tyrant's deathbed, that Philip des Comines enters into a regular comparison between them and the numerous cruelties inflicted on others by his order; and, considering both, comes to express an opinion, that the worldly pangs and agony suffered by Louis were such as might compensate the crimes he had committed, and that, after a reasonable quarantine in purgatory, he might in mercy be found duly qualified for the superior regions. Fénelon also has left his testimony against this prince, whose mode of living and governing he has described in the following remarkable passage:

"Pygmalion, tourmenté par une soif insatiable des richesses, se rend de plus en plus misérable et odieux à ses sujets. C'est un crime a Tyr que d'avoir de grands biens; l'avarice le rend défiant, soupconneux, cruel; il persécute les riches, et il craint les pauvres.

"C'est un crime encore plus grand a Tyr d'avoir de la vertu ; car Pygmalion suppose que les bons ne peuvent souffrir ses injustices et ses infamies; la vertu le condamne, il s'aigrit et s'irrite contre elle. Tout l'agite, l'inquiète, le ronge; il a peur de son ombre; il ne dort ni nuit ni jour; les Dieux, pour le confondre, l'accablent de trésors dont il n'ose jouir. Ce qu'il cherche pour être heureux est précisément ce qui l'empêche de l'être. Il regrette tout ce qu'il donne, et craint toujours de perdre; il se tourmente pour gagner.

"On ne le voit presque jamais; il est seul, triste, abattu, au fond de son palais; ses amis mêmes n'osent l'aborder, de peur de lui devenir suspects. Une garde terrible tient toujours des épées nues et des piques levées autour de sa maison. Trente chambres qui communiquent les unes aux autres, et dont chacune a une porte de fer avec six gros verroux, sont le lieu où il se renferme; on ne sait jamais dans laquelle de ces chambres il couche; et on assure qu'il ne couche jamais deux nuits de suite dans la même, de peur d'y être égorgé. Il ne connoit ni les doux plaisirs, ni l'amitié encore plus douce. Si on lui parle de chercher la joie, il sent qu'elle fuit loin de lui, et qu'elle refuse d'entrer dans son cœur. Ses yeux creux sont pleins d'un feu apre et farouche; ils sont "ans cesse errans de tous cotés; il prête l'oreille au moindre bruit, et se sent tout ému; il est pâle, défait, et les noirs soucis sont peints sur son visage toujours ridé. Il se tait, il soupire, il tire de son cœur de profonds

In Louis XIth's time, extraordinary commotions existed throughout all Europe. England's civil wars were ended rather in appearance than reality, by the short-lived ascendency of the House of York. Switzerland was asserting that freedom which was afterwards so bravely defended. In the Empire, and in France, the great vassals of the crown were endeavouring to emancipate themselves from its control, while Charles of Burgundy by main force, and Louis more artfully by indirect means, laboured to subject them to subservience to their respective sovereignties. Louis, while with one hand he circunivented and subdued his own rebellious vassals, laboured secretly with the other to aid and encourage the large trading towns of Flanders to rebel against the Duke of Burgundy, to which their wealth and irritability naturally disposed them. In the more woodland districts of Flanders, the Duke of Gueldres, and William de la Marck, called from his ferocity the Wild Boar of Ar dennes, were throwing off the habits of knights and gentlemen, to practise the violences and brutalities of common handits. A hundred secret combinations existed in the different provinces of France and Flanders; numerous private emissaries of the restless Louis, Bohemians, pilgrims, beggars, or agents dis guised as such, were every where spreading the discontent which it was his policy to maintain in the dominions of Burgundy. Amidst so great an abundance of materials, it was difficult to select such as should be most intelligible and interesting to the reader; and the author had to regret, that though he made liberal use of the power of departing from the reality of history, he felt by no means confident of having brought his story into a pleasing, compact, and sufficiently intelligible form. The mainspring of the plot is that which all who know the least of the feudal system can easily understand, though the facts are absolutely fictitious. The right of a feudal superior was in nothing more universally acknowledged than in his power to interfere in the marriage of a female vassal. This may appear to exist as a contradiction both of the civil and canon law, which declare that marriage shall be free, while the feudal or munici pal jurisprudence, in case of a fief passing to a female, acknow ledges an interest in the superior of the fief to dictate the choice of her companion in marriage. This is accounted for on the principle that the superior was, by his bounty, the original grantor of the fief, and is still interested that the marriage of the vassal shall place no one there who may be inimical to his liege lord. On the other hand, it might be reasonably pleaded that this right of dictating to the vassal to a certain extent in the choice of a husband, is only competent to the superior, from whom the fief is originally derived. There is therefore no violent improbability in a vassal of Burgundy flying to the protee tion of the King of France, to whom the Duke of Burgundy himself was vassal; nor is it a great stretch of probability to affirm, that Louis, unscrupulous as he was, should have formed the design of betraying the fugitive into some alliance which might prove inconvenient, if not dangerous, to his formidable kinsman and vassal of Burgundy.

I may add, that the romance of QUENTIN DURWARD, which acquired a popularity at home more extensive than some of its predecessors, found also unusual success on the continent, where the historical allusions awakened more familiar ideas. ABBOTSFORD, 1st December, 1831.

INTRODUCTION."

WHEN honest Dogberry sums up and recites all the claims which he had to respectability, and which, as he opined, ought to have exempted him from the injurious appellation conferred on him by Master Gentleman Conrade, it is remarkable that he lays no more emphasis even upon his double gown, (a matter of some importance in a certain ci-devant capital which I wot of,) or upon his being "a pretty piece of flesh as any in Messina," or even upon the conclusive argument of his being "a rich fellow enough," than upon his being one that hath had losses. Indeed, I have always observed your children of prosperity, whether by way of hiding their full glow of splendour from those whom fortune has treated more harshly, or whether that to have risen in spite of calamity is as honourable to their for tune as it is to a fortress to have undergone a siege, however this be, I have observed that such persons never fail to entertain you with an account of the damage they sustain by the hardness of the times. You seldom dine at a well-supplied table, but the intervals between the Champagne, the Burgundy, and the Hock, are filled, if your entertainer be a moneyed man, with the fall of interest and the difficulty of finding invest ments for cash, which is therefore lying idle on his hands; or, if he be a landed proprietor, with a woful detail of arrears and diminished rents. This hath its effects. The guests sigh and shake their heads in cadence with their landlord, look on the sideboard loaded with plate, sip once more the rich wines which flow around them in quick circulation, and think of the genuine benevolence, which, thus stinted of its means, still lavishes all that it yet possesses on hospitality; and, what is yet more flattering, on the wealth, which, undiminished by these losses, still continues, like the inexhaustible hoard of the generous Aboulcasem, to sustain, without impoverishment, such copious drains. This querulous humour, however, hath its limits, like to the conning of grievances, which all valetudinarians know is a most fascinating pastime, so long as there is nothing to complain of but chronic complaints. But I never heard a man whose credit was actually verging to decay talk of the diminution of his funds; and my kind and intelligent physician assures me, that it is a rare thing with those afflicted with a good rousing fever, or any such active disorder, which

reign substitutes which caprice and love of change had rendered
fashionable. I cannot but confess with shame, that my home-
bred stomach longs for the genuine steak, after the fashion of
Dolly's, hot from the gridiron, brown without, and scarlet when
the knife is applied; and that all the delicacies of Very's carte,
with his thousand various orthographies of Bifticks de Mouton,
do not supply the vacancy. Then my mother's son cannot
learn to delight in thin potations; and, in these days when
malt is had for nothing, I am convinced that a double straick
of John Barleycorn must have converted "the poor domestic
creature, small-beer," into a liquor twenty times more generous
than the acid unsubstantial tipple, which here bears the ho-
noured name of wine, though, in substance and qualities, much
similar to your Seine water. Their higher wines, indeed, are
well enough-there is nothing to except against in their Cha-
teau Margout, or Sillery; yet I cannot but remember the gene-
con and his poodle, though they are both amusing animals, and
rous qualities of my sound old Oporto. Nay, down to the gar-
play ten thousand monkey-tricks which are diverting enough,
yet there was more sound humour in the wink with which our
village Packwood used to communicate the news of the morn-
ing, than all Antoine's gambols could have expressed in a week,
and more of human and dog-like sympathy in the wag of old
Trusty's tail, than if his rival, Touton, had stood on his hind-
legs for a twelvemonth.

These signs of repentance come perhaps a little late, and I
own, (for I must be entirely candid with my dear friend the
Public,) that they have been somewhat matured by the perver-
tain whacking priest in our neighbourhood, and the marriage
sion of my niece Christy to the ancient Popish faith by a cer-
of my aunt Dorothy to a demi-solde captain of horse, a ci-devant
us, have been a Field-Marshal by this time, had our old friend
member of the Legion of Honour, and who would, he assures
of Christy, I must own her head had been so fairly turned at
Bonaparte continued to live and to triumph. For the matter
distrusted the means and medium of her conversation, I was at
Edinburgh with five routs a-night, that, though I somewhat
the same time glad to see that she took a serious thought of
Convent took her off my hands for a very reasonable pension.
any kind ;-besides, there was little loss in the matter, for the
But aunt Dorothy's marriage on earth was a very different mat-
were two thousand three-per-cents as much lost to my family
ter from Christian's celestial espousals. In the first place, there
as if the sponge had been drawn over the national slate-for
who the deuce could have thought aunt Dorothy would have
married? Above all, who would have thought a woman of fifty
lower branch of limbs corresponding with the upper branch, as
years' experience would have married a French anatomy, his
if one pair of half-extended compasses had been placed perpen-
dicularly upon the top of another, while the space on which
the hinges revolved, quite sufficed to represent the body? All
the rest was mustache, pelisse, and calico trowser. She might
have commanded a polk of real Cossacks in 1815, for half the
wealth which she surrendered to this military scarecrow. How-
ever, there is no more to be said upon the matter, especially as
she had come the length of quoting Rousseau for sentiment-
and so let that pass.

Having thus expectorated my bile against a land, which is, notwithstanding, a very merry land, and which I cannot blame, because I sought it, and it did not seek me, I come to the more est Public, if I do not reckon too much on the continuance of immediate purpose of this Introduction, and which, my dearyour favours, (though, to say truth, consistency and uniformity of taste are scarce to be reckoned upon by those who court your good graces,) may perhaps go far to make me amends for the loss and damage I have sustained by bringing aunt Dorothy L said, a complete giblet-pie, all legs and wings,) and fine to the country of thick calves, slender ankles, black mustaches, bodiless limbs, (I assure you the fellow is, as my friend Lord Highlandman, ay, or a dashing son of Erin, I would never have sentiments. If she had taken from the half-pay list, a ranting mentioned the subject; but as the affair has happened, it is scarce possible not to resent such a gratuitous plundering of her own lawful heirs and executors. But "be hushed my dark spirit!" and let us invite our dear Public to a more pleasing theme to us, a more interesting one to others.

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With the same generous spirit of emulation, I have had lately recourse to the universal remedy for the brief impecuniosity of which I complain-a brief residence in a southern climate, by which I have not only saved many cart-loads of coals, but have also had the pleasure to excite general sympathy for my decayed circumstances among those, who, if my revenue had continued to be spent among them, would have cared little if I had been hanged. Thus, while I drink my vin erdinaire, my brewer finds the sale of his small-beer diminished-while I discuss my flask of cinq francs, my modicum of port hangs on my winemerchant's hands while my cotelette a-la-Maintenon is smoking on my plate, the mighty sirloin hangs on its peg in the shop of my blue aproned friend in the village. Whatever, in short, I spend here, is missed at home; and the few sous gained by the garcon perruquier, nay, the very crust I give to his little barebottomed, red-eyed poodle, are autant de perdu to my old friend the barber, and honest Trusty, the mastiff-dog in the yard. So that I have the happiness of knowing at every turn, that my absence is both missed and moaned by those, who would care little were I in my coffin, were they sure of the custom of my executors. From this charge of self-seeking and indifference, however, I solemnly except Trusty, the yard dog, whose courresies towards me, I have reason to think, were of a more dis-other are voluntarily rendered. interested character than those of any other person who assisted me to consume the bounty of the Public.

Alas! the advantage of exciting such general sympathies at home cannot be secured without incurring considerable personal inconvenience. "If thou wishest me to weep, thou must first shed tears thyself," says Horace; and, truly, I could some times cry myself at the exchange I have made of the domestic comforts which custom had rendered necessaries, for the foIt is scarcely necessary to say, that all that follows is imaginary. VOL. IV. 2 P

By dint of drinking acid tiff, as above mentioned, and smotain degree of acquaintance with un homme comme il faut, one of king cigars, in which I am no novice, my Public are to be informed, that I gradually sipp'd and smoked myself into a certhe few fine old specimens of nobility who are still to be found in France; who, like mutilated statues of an antiquated and obsolete worship, still command a certain portion of awe and estimation in the eyes even of those by whom neither one nor

On visiting the coffee-house of the village, I was, at first, struck with the singular dignity and gravity of this gentleman's manners, his sedulous attachment to shoes and stockings, in his old-fashioned schakos. There was something interesting in contempt of half-boots and pantaloons, the croix de Saint Louis at his button-hole, and a small white cockade in the loop of his whole appearance; and besides, his gravity among the lively group around him, seemed, like the shade of a tree in the glare of a sunny landscape, more interesting from its rarity. I made such advances towards acquaintance as the circum

stances of the place, and the manners of the country, autho-1 rized-that is to say, I drew near him, smoked my cigar by calm and intermitted puffs, which were scarcely visible, and asked him those few questions which good-breeding every where, but more especially in France, permits strangers to put, without hazarding the imputation of impertinence. The Mar quis de Hautlieu, for such was his rank, was as short and sententious as French politeness permitted-he answered every question, but proposed nothing, and encouraged no farther inquiry.

The truth was, that, not very accessible to foreigners of any nation, or even to strangers among his own countrymen, the Marquis was peculiarly shy towards the English. A remnant of ancient national prejudice might dictate this feeling; or it might arise from his idea that they are a haughty, purse-proud people, to whom rank, united with straitened circumstances, affords as much subject for scom as for pity; or, finally, when he reflected on certain recent events, he might perhaps feel mortified as a Frenchman, even for those successes, which had restored his master to the throne, and himself to a diminished property and dilapidated chateau. His dislike, howeyer, never assumed a more active form than that of alienation from English society. When the affairs of strangers required the interposition of his influence in their behalf, it was uniformly granted with the courtesy of a French gentleman, who knew what is due to himself and to national hospitality.

companiments of grass and gravel. A highly romantic situa tion may be degraded, perhaps, by an attempt at such artificial ornaments; but then, in by far the greater number of sites, the intervention of more architectural decoration than is now in use, seems necessary to redeem the naked tameness of a large house, placed by itself in the midst of a lawn, where it looks as much unconnected with all around, as if it had walked out of town upon an airing.

How the taste came to change so suddenly and absolutely, is rather a singular circumstance, unless we explain it on the same principle on which the three friends of the Father in Molière's comedy recommend a cure for the melancholy of his daughter -that he should furnish her apartments, viz. with paintings— with tapestry-or with china, according to the different com modities in which each of them was a dealer. Tried by this scale, we may perhaps discover, that, of old, the architect laid out the garden and the pleasure-grounds in the neighbourhood of the mansion, and, naturally enough, displayed his own art there in statues and vases, and paved terraces and flights of steps, with ornamented balustrades; while the gardener, subordinate in rank, endeavoured to make the vegetable kingdom correspond to the prevailing taste, and cut his evergreens into verdant walls, with towers and battlements, and his detached trees into a resemblance of statuary. But the wheel has since revolved, so as to place the landscape-gardener, as he is called, almost upon a level with the architect; and hence a liberal and somewhat violent use is made of spade and pick-axe, and a conversion of the ostentatious labours of the architect into a ferme ornee, as little different from the simplicity of Nature, as displayed in the surrounding country, as the comforts of conve nient and cleanly walks, imperiously demanded in the vicinage of a gentleman's residence, can possibly admit.

To return from this digression, which has given the Marquis's cabriolet (its activity greatly retarded by the downward propensities of Jean Roast beef, which I suppose the Norman horse cursed as heartily as his countrymen of old time execrated the stolid obesity of a Saxon slave) time to ascend the hill by a winding causeway, now much broken, we came in sight of a long range of roofless buildings, connected with the western extremity of the castle, which was totally ruinous. "I should apologize," he said, to you, as an Englishman, for the taste of my ancestors, in connecting that row of stables with the architecture of the château. I know in your country it is usual to remove them to some distance; but my family had an hereditary pride in horses, and were fond of visiting them more frequently than would have been convenient if they had been kept at a greater distance. Before the Revolution, I had thirty fine horses in that ruinous line of buildings."

At length, by some chance, the Marquis made the discovery, that the new frequenter of his ordinary was a native of Scotland, a circumstance which told mightily in my favour. Some of his own ancestors, he informed me, had been of Scottish origin, and he believed his house had still some relations in what he was pleased to call the province of Hanguisse, in that coun try. The connexion had been acknowledged early in the last eentury on both sides, and he had once almost determined, du ring his exile, (for it may be supposed that the Marquis had joined the ranks of Condé, and shared all the misfortunes and distresses of emigration,) to claim the acquaintance and protection of his Scottish friends. But, after all, he said, he cared not to present himself before them in circumstances which could do them but small credit, and which they might think entailed some little burden, perhaps even some little disgrace; so that he thought it best to trust in Providence, and do the best he could for his own support. What that was I never could learn; but I am sure it inferred nothing which could be discreditable to the excellent old man, who held fast his opinions and his loyalty, through good and bad repute, till time restored him, aged, indigent, and broken-spirited, to the country which he had left in the prime of youth and health, and sobered by age into patience, instead of that tone of high resent- This recollection of past magnificence escaped from him aement, which promised speedy vengeance upon those who ex-cidentally, for he was generally sparing in alluding to his forpelled him. I might have laughed at some points of the Marmer opulence. It was quietly said, without any affectation either quis's character, at his prejudices, particularly, both of birth of the importance attached to early wealth, or as demanding and politics, if I had known him under more prosperous cir sympathy for its having past away. It awakened unpleas cumstances; but, situated as he was, even if they had not been ing reflections, however, and we were both silent, till, from a fair and honest prejudices, turning on no base or interested mo- partially repaired corner of what had been a porter's lodge, a tive, one must have respected him as we respect the confessor lively French paysanne, with eyes as black as jet, and as bril or the martyr of a religion which is not entirely our own. liant as diamonds, came out with a smile, which showed a set of teeth that duchesses might have envied, and took the reins of the little carriage.

By degrees we became good friends, drank our coffee, smoked our cigar, and took our bavaroise together, for more than six weeks, with little interruption from avocations on either side. Having, with some difficulty, got the key note of his inquiries concerning Scotland, by a fortunate conjecture that the province d'Hanguisse could only be our shire of Angus, I was enabled to answer the most of his queries concerning his allies there in a manner more or less satisfactory, and was much surprised to find the Marquis much better acquainted with the genealogy of some of the distinguished families in that country, than I could possibly have expected.

On his part, his satisfaction at our intercourse was so great, that he at length wound himself to such a pitch of resolution, as to invite me to dine at the Château de Hautlieu, well desery ing the name, as occupying a commanding eminence on the banks of the Loire. This building lay about three miles from the town at which I had settled my temporary establishment; and when I first beheld it, I could easily forgive the mortified feelings which the owner testified, at receiving a guest in the asylum which he had formed out of the ruins of the palace of his fathers. He gradually, with much gayety, which yet evidently covered a deeper feeling, prepared me for the sort of place I was about to visit; and for this he had full opportunity whilst he drove me in his little cabriolet, drawn by a large heavy Norman horse, towards the ancient building.

Its remains run along a beautiful terrace overhanging the river Loire, which had been formerly laid out with a succession of flights of steps, highly ornamented with statues, rock-work, and other artificial embellishments, descending from one terrace to another, until the very verge of the river was attained. All this architectural decoration, with its accompanying parterres of rich flowers and exotic shrubs, had, many years since, given place to the more profitable scene of the vine-dresser's labours; yet the remains, too massive to be destroyed, are still visible, and, with the various artificial slopes and levels of the high bank, bear perfect evidence how actively Art had been here employed to decorate Nature.

Few of these scenes are now left in perfection; for the fickleness of fashion has accomplished in England the total change which devastation and popular fury have produced in the French pleasure-grounds. For my part, I am contented to subscribe to the opinion of the best qualified judge of our time, who thinks we have carried to an extreme our taste for simplicity, and that the neighbourhood of a stately mansion requires some more oruate embellishments than can be derived from the meagre ac• See Price's Essay on the Picturesque, in many passages; but I would particularize the beautiful and highly poetical account which he gives of his own feelings on destroying, at the dictate of an improver, an ancient sequestrated garden, with its yew hedges, ornamented iron gates, and secluded wilderness

"Madelon must be groom to-day," said the Marquis, after graciously nodding in return for her deep reverence to Monsieur, "for her husband is gone to market; and for La Jeunesse, he is almost distracted with his various occupations.-Madelon," he continued, as we walked forward under the entrance-arch, crowned with the mutilated armorial bearings of former lords, now half obscured by moss and ryegrass, not to mention the vagrant branches of some unpruned shrubs,-" Madelon was my wife's god daughter, and was educated to be fille-de-chambre to my daughter."

This passing intimation, that he was a widowed husband and childless father, increased my respect for the unfortunate nobleman, to whom every particular attached to his present situ ation brought doubtless its own share of food for melancholy reflection. He proceeded, after the pause of an instant, with something of a gayer tone-"You will be entertained with my poor La Jeunesse," he said, "who, by the way, is ten years older than I am"-(the Marquis is above sixty)-"he remiude me of the player in the Roman Comique, who acted a whole play in his own proper person-he insists on being maitred'hotel, maitre de cuisine, valet-de-chambre, a whole suite of attendants in his own poor individuality. He sometimes reminds me of a character in the Bridle of Lammermoor, which you must have read, as it is the work of one of your gens de lettres, qu'on appelle, je crois, le Chevalier Scott."* "I presume you mean Sir Walter ?"

"Yes-the same-the same," answered the Marquis.

We were now led away from more painful recollections; for I had to put my French friend right in two particulars. In the first I prevailed with difficulty; for the Marquis, though he disliked the English, yet, having been three months in Londor, piqued himself on understanding the most intricate difficulties of our language, and appealed to every dictionary, from Florio downwards, that la Bride must mean the Bridle. Nay, so scep tical was he on this point of philology, that, when I ventured to hint that there was nothing about a bridle in the whole story. he with great composure, and little knowing to whom he spoke, laid the whole blame of that inconsistency on the unfortunate author. I had next the common candour to inform my friend, upon grounds which no one could know so well as myself, that my distinguished literary countryman, of whom I shall always speak with the respect his talents deserve, was not responsible for the slight works which the humour of the public had too generously, as well as too rashly, ascribed to him. Surprised by the impulse of the moment, I might even have gone farther, ↑ It is scarce necessary to remind the reader that this passage was pub. lished during the author's incognito; and, as Lucio expresses it, spoken "according to the trick."

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and clenched the negative by positive evidence, owning to my entertainer that no one else could possibly have written these works, since I myself was the author, when I was saved from eo rash a commitment of myself by the calm reply of the Marquis, that he was glad to hear these sort of trifles were not written by a person of condition. "We read them," he said, "as we listen to the pleasantries of a comedian, or as our ancestors did to those of a professed family-jester, with a good deal of amusement, which, however, we should be sorry to derive from the mouth of one who has better claims to our society."

I was completely recalled to my constitutional caution by this declaration; and became so much afraid of committing myself, that I did not even venture to explain to my aristocratic friend, that the gentleman whom he had named owed his advancement, for aught I had ever heard, to certain works of his, which may, without injury, be compared to romances in rhyme. The truth is, that, amongst some other unjust prejudices, at which I have already hinted, the Marquis had contracted a horPor, mingled with contempt, for almost every species of author eraft, slighter than that which compounds a folio volume of law or of divinity, and looked upon the author of a romance, novel, fugitive poem, or periodical piece of criticism, as men do on a venomous reptile, with fear at once and with loathing. The abuse of the press, he contended, especially in its lighter departments, had poisoned the whole morality of Europe, and was once more gradually regaining an influence which had been silenced amidst the voice of war. All writers, except those of the largest and heaviest calibre, he conceived to be devoted to this evil cause, from Rousseau and Voltaire down to Pigault le Brun and the author of the Scotch Novels; and although he admitted he read them pour passer le temps, yet, like Pistol eating his leek, it was not without execrating the tendency, as he devoured the story, of the work with which he was engaged. Observing this peculiarity, I backed out of the candid confession which my vanity had meditated, and engaged the Marquis in farther remarks on the mansion of his ancestors. "There," he said, "was the theatre where my father used to procure an order for the special attendance of some of the principal actors of the Comedie Francoise, when the King and Madame Pompadour more than once visited him at this place;-yonder, more to the centre, was the Baron's hall, where his feudal jurisdiction was exercised when criminals were to be tried by the Seigneur or his bailiff; for we had, like your old Scottish nobles, the right of pit and gallows, or fossa cum furca, as the civilians term it;-beneath that lies the Question-chamber, or apartment for torture; and truly, I am sorry a right so liable to abuse should have been lodged in the hands of any living creature. But," he added, with a feeling of dignity derived even from the atrocities which his ancestors had committed beneath the grated windows to which he pointed, "such is the effect of superstition, that, to this day, the peasants dare not approach the dungeons, in which, it is said, the wrath of my ancestors had perpetrated, in former times, much cruelty."

As we approached the window, while I expressed some curioaity to see this abode of terror, there arose from its subterranean abyss a shrill shout of laughter, which we easily detected as produced by a group of playful children, who had made the neglected vaults a theatre, for a joyous romp at Colin Maillard. The Marquis was somewhat disconcerted, and had recourse to his tabatiere; but, recovering in a moment, observed, these were Madelon's children, and familiar with the supposed terrors of the subterranean recesses. "Besides," he added, "to speak the truth, these poor children have been born after the period of supposed illumination, which dispelled our superstition and our religion at once; and this bids me to remind you, that this is a jour maigre. The Cure of the parish is my only guest, besides yourself, and I would not voluntarily offend his opinions. Besides," he continued, more manfully, and throwing off his restraint, "adversity has taught me other thoughts on these subjects than those which prosperity dictated; and I thank God I am not ashamed to avow, that I follow the observances of my church."

I hastened to answer, that, though they might differ from those of my own, I had every possible respect for the religious rules of every Christian community, sensible that we addressed the same Deity, on the same grand principle of salvation, though with different forms; which variety of worship, had it pleased the Almighty not to permit, our observances would have been as distinctly prescribed to us as they are laid down under the Mosaic law.

The Marquis was no shaker of hands, but upon the present occasion he grasped mine, and shook it kindly-the only mode of acquiescence in my sentiments which perhaps a zealous Catholic could, or ought consistently to have given upon such an occasion.

This circumstance of explanation and remark, with others which arose out of the view of the extensive ruins, occupied us during two or three turns upon the long terrace, and a seat of about a quarter of an hour's duration in a vaulted pavilion of freestone, decorated with the Marquis's armorial bearings, the roof of which, though disjointed in some of its groined arches, was still solid and entire. "Here," said he, resuming the tone of a former part of his conversation, "I love to sit, either at noon, when the alcove affords me shelter from the heat, or in the evening, when the sun's beams are dying on the broad face of the Loire-here, in the words of your great poet, whom, Frenchman as I am, I am more intimately acquainted with than most Englishmen, I love to rest myself,

'Showing the code of sweet and bitter fancy."" Against this various reading of a well-known passage in Shakspeare I took care to offer no protest; for I suspect Shakspeare would have suffered in the opinion of so delicate a judge as the Marquis, had I proved his having written "chewing the cud," according to all other authorities. Besides, I had had enough of our former dispute, having been long convinced, (though not

till ten years after I had left Edinburgh College,) that the pith of conversation does not consist in exhibiting your own superior knowledge on matters of small consequence, but in enlarging, improving, and correcting the information you possess, by the authority of others. I therefore let the Marquis show his code at his pleasure, and was rewarded by his entering into a learned and well-informed disquisition on the florid style of architecture introduced into France during the seventeenth century. He pointed out its merits and its defects with considerable taste; and having touched on topics similar to those upon which I have formerly digressed, he made an appeal of a different kind in their favour, founded on the associations with which they were combined. "Who," he said, "would willingly destroy the terraces of the Chateau of Sully, since we cannot tread them without recalling the image of that statesman, alike distinguished for severe integrity and for strong and unerring sagacity of mind? Were they an inch less broad, a ton's weight less massive, or were they deprived of their formality by the slightest inflections, could we suppose them to remain the scene of his patriotic musings? Would an ordinary root-house be a fit scene for the Duke occupying an arm-chair, and his Duchess a tabouret-teaching from thence lessons of courage and fidelity to his sons,-of modesty and submission to his daughters, of rigid morality to both; while the circle of young noblesse listened with ears attentive, and eyes modestly fixed on the ground, in a standing posture, neither replying nor sitting down, without the express command of their prince and parent?-No, Monsieur," he said, with enthusiasm; destroy the princely pavilion in which this edifying family-scene was represented, and you remove from the mind the vraisemblance, the veracity, ot the whole representation. Or can your mind suppose this distinguished peer and patriot walking in a jardin Anglois ? Why, you might as well fancy him dressed with a blue frock and white waistcoat, instead of his Henri Quatre coat and chapeau a plumes-Consider how he could have moved in the tortuous maze of what you have called a ferme ornee, with his usual attendants of two files of Swiss guards preceding, and the same number following him. To recall his figure, with his beardhaut-de-chausses a canon, united to his doublet by ten thousand aiguilettes and knots of riband, you could not, supposing him in a modern jardin Anglois, distinguish the picture in your imagination, from the sketch of some mad old man, who has adopted the humour of dressing like his great-great-grandfather, and whom a party of gens-d'armes were conducting to the Hopital des Fous. But look on the long and magnificent terrace, if it yet exists, which the loyal and exalted Sully was wont to make the scene of his solitary walk twice-a-day, while he pondered over the patriotic schemes which he nourished for advancing the glory of France; or, at a later, and more sorrowful period of life, brooded over the memory of his murdered master, and the fate of his distracted country:-throw in that noble back-ground of arcades, vases, images, urns, and whatever could express the vicinity of a ducal palace, and the landscape becomes consistent at once. The factionnaires, with their harquebusses ported, placed at the extremities of the long and level walk, intimate the presence of the feudal prince; while the same is more clearly shown by the guard of honour which precede and follow him, their halberds carried upright, their mien martial and stately, as if in the presence of an enemy, yet moved, as it were, with the same soul as their princely superiorteaching their steps to attend upon his, marching as he marches, halting as he halts, accommodating their pace even to the slight irregularities of pause and advance dictated by the fluctuations of his reverie, and wheeling with military precision before and behind him, who seems the centre and animating principle of their armed files, as the heart gives life and energy to the human body. Or, if you smile," added the Marquis, looking doubtfully on my countenance, "at a promenade so inconsistent with the light freedom of modern manners, could you bring your mind to demolish that other terrace trod by the fascinating Marchioness de Sevigné, with which are united so many recollections connected with passages in her enchanting letters ?"

A little tired of this disquisition, which the Marquis certainly dwelt upon to exalt the natural beauties of his own terrace, which, dilapidated as it was, required no such formal recommendation, I informed my companion, that I had just received from England a journal of a tour made in the south of France by a young Oxonian friend of mine, a poet, a draughtsman, and a scholar,-in which he gives such an animated and interesting description of the Château-Grignan, the dwelling of Madame de Sevigne's beloved daughter, and frequently the place of her own residence, that no one who ever read the book would be within forty miles of the same, without going a pilgrimage to the spot. The Marquis smiled, seemed very much pleased, and asked the title at length of the work in question; and writing down to my dictation, "An Itinerary of Provence and the Rhone, made during the year 1819; by John Hughes, A. M., of Oriel College, Oxford,"-observed, he could now purchase no books for the château, but would recommend that the Itineraire should be commissiond for the library to which he was abonne in the neighbouring town. "And here," he said, "comes the Cure, to save us farther disquisition; and I see La Jeunesse gliding round the old portico on the terrace, with the purpose of ringing the dinner-bell-a most unnecessary ceremony for assembling three persons, but which it would break the old man's heart to forego. Take no notice of him at present, as he wishes to perform the duties of the inferior departments incognito; when the bell has ceased to sound, he will blaze forth on us in the character of major-domo."

As the Marquis spoke, we had advanced towards the eastern extremity of the Château, which was the only part of the edi fice that remained still habitable.

"The Bande Noire," said the Marquis, "when they pulled the rest of the house to pieces, for the sake of the lead, timber, and other materials, have, in their ravages, done me the unde signed favour to reduce it to dimensions better fitting the cir

I readily promised to accept an invitation offered with such grace, as to make the guest appear the person conferring the obligation. The conversation then changed to the history of the Château and its vicinity-a subject which was strong ground to the Marquis, though he was no great antiquary, and even no very profound historian, when other topics were discussed. The Cure, however, chanced to be both, and withal a very conversable pleasing man, with an air of provenance, and ready civility of communication, which I have found a leading characteristic of the Catholic clergy, whether they are well-informed or otherwise. It was from him that I learned there still existed the remnant of a fine library in the Chateau de Hautlieu. The Marquis shrugged his shoulders as the Curé gave me this intimation, looked to the one side and the other, and displayed the same sort of petty embarrassment which he had been unable to suppress when La Jeunesse blabbed something of his interference with the arrangements of the cuisine. "I should be happy to show the books," he said, "but they are in such a wild condition, so dismantled, that I am ashamed to exhibit them to any one."

"Forgive me, my dear sir," said the Curé, "you know you permitted the great English Bibliomaniac, Dr. Dibdin, to consult your curious relics, and you know how highly he spoke of them."

"What could I do, my dear friend ?" said the Marquis; "the good Doctor had heard some exaggerated account of these remnants of what was once a library-he had stationed himself in the auberge below, determined to carry his point or die under the walls. I even heard of his taking the altitude of the turret, in order to provide scaling-ladders. You would not have had me reduce a respectable divine, though of another church, to such an act of desperation? I could not have answered it in conscience."

"But you know, besides, Monsieur le Marquis," continued the Cure, "that Dr. Dibdin was so much grieved at the dilapidation your library had sustained, that he avowedly envied the powers of our church, so much did he long to launch an anathema at the heads of the perpetrators."

"His resentment was in proportion to his disappointment, I suppose," said our entertainer.

cumstances of the owner. There is enough of the leaf left for the caterpillar to coil up his chrysalis in, and what needs he care though reptiles have devoured the rest of the bush ?" As he spoke thus, we reached the door, at which La Jeunesse appeared, with an air at once of prompt service and deep reEpect, and a countenance, which, though puckered by a thousand wrinkles, was ready to answer the first good-natured word of his master with a smile, which showed his white set of teeth firm and fair, in despite of age and suffering. His clean silk stockings, washed till their tint had become yellowish-his cue tied with a rosette-the thin gray curl on either side of his lank heek-the pearl-coloured coat, without a collar-the solitaire, the jabot, the ruffles at the wrist, and the chapeau-bras-all announced that La Jeunesse considered the arrival of a guest at the Château as an unusual event, which was to be met with a corresponding display of magnificence and parade on his part. As I looked at the faithful though fantastic follower of his master, who doubtless inherited his prejudices as well as his cast-clothes, I could not but own, in my own mind, the resemblance pointed out by the Marquis betwixt him and my own Caleb, the trusty squire of the Master of Ravenswood. But a Frenchman, a Jack-of-all-trades by nature, can, with much more ease and suppleness, address himself to a variety of services, and suffice in his own person to discharge them all, than is possible for the formality and slowness of a Scottishman. Superior to Caleb in dexterity, though not in zeal, La Jeunesse seemed to multiply himself with the necessities of the occasion, and discharged his several tasks with such promptitude and assiduity, that farther attendance than his was neither missed nor wished for. The dinner, in particular, was exquisite. The soup, although bearing the term of maigre, which Englishmen use in scorn, was most delicately flavoured, and the matelot of pike and eels reconciled me, though a Scottishman, to the latter. There was even a petit plat of bouilli for the heretic, so exquisitely dressed as to retain all the juices, and, at the same time, rendered so thoroughly tender, that nothing could be more delicate. The potage, with another small dish or two, were equally well arranged. But what the old maitre d'hotel valued himself upon as something superb, smiling with self-satisfaction, and in enjoyment of my surprise, as he placed it on the table, was an immense assiettee of spinage, not smoothed into a uniform surface, as by our uninaugurated cooks upon your side of the water, but swelling into hills, and declining into vales, over which swept a gallant stag, pursued by a pack of hounds in full cry, and a noble field of horsemen with bugle-horns, and whips held upright, and brandished after the manner of broadswordshounds, huntsman, and stag, being all very artificially cut out of toasted bread. Enjoying the praises which I failed not to bestow on this chef d'œuvre, the old man acknowledged it had cost the best part of two days to bring it to perfection; and added, giving honour where honour was due, that an idea so brilliant was not entirely his own, but that Monsieur himself had taken the trouble to give him several valuable hints, and even condescended to assist in the execution of some of the most capital figures. The Marquis blushed a little at this eclaircissement, which he might probably have wished to suppress, but acknowledged he had wished to surprise me with a scene from the popular poem of my country, Miladi Lac. I answered, that so splendid a cortege much more resembled a grand chasse of Louis Quatorze than of a poor King of Scotland, and that the paysage was rather like Fontainbleau than the wilds of Callendar. He bowed graciously in answer to this compliment, and acknowledged that recollections of the costume of the old French Court, when in its splendour, might have misled his imagination-and so the conversation passed on to other matters. Our dessert was exquisite-the cheese, the fruits, the salad, the olives, the cerneaur, and the delicious white wine, each in their way were impayables; and the good Marquis, with an air of great satisfaction, observed, that his guest did sincere homage to their merits. "After all," he said. " and yet it is but confessing a foolish weakness-but, after all, I cannot but rejoice in feeling myself equal to offering a stranger a sort of hospitality which seems pleasing to him. Believe me, it is not entirely out of pride that we pauvres revenants live so very retired, and avoid the duties of hospitality. It is true, that too many of us wander about the halls of our fathers, rather like ghosts of their deceased proprietors, than like living men restored to their own possessions-yet it is rather on your account, than to spare our own feelings, that we do not cultivate the society of our foreign visiters. We have an idea that your opulent nation is particularly attached to faste, and to grande chere-to your ease and enjoyment of every kind; and the means of entertainment left to us are, in most cases, so limited, that we feel ourselves totally precluded from such expense and ostentation. No one wishes to offer his best where he has reason to think it will not give pleasure; and as many of you publish your journals, Monsieur le Marquis would not probably be much gratified, by seeing the poor dinner which he was able to present to Milord Anglois put upon permanent record."

I interrupted the Marquis, that were I to wish an account of my entertainment published, it would be only in order to preserve the memory of the very best dinner I ever had eaten in my life. He bowed in return, and presumed "that I either dif fered much from the national taste, or the accounts of it were greatly exaggerated. He was particularly obliged to me for showing the value of the possessions which remained to him. The useful," he said, "had no doubt survived the sumptuous at Hautlieu as elsewhere. Grottos, statues, curious conservatories of exotics, temple and tower, had gone to the ground; but the vineyard, the potager, the orchard, the etang, still existed; and once more he expressed himself happy to find, that their combined productions could make what even a Briton accepted as a tolerable meal. I only hope," he continued, "that you will convince me your compliments are sincere, by accepting the hospitality of the Château de Hautlieu as often as better engagements will permit during your stay in this neighbourhood."

Not so," said the Cure; for he was so enthusiastic on the value of what remains, that I am convinced nothing but your positive request to the contrary prevented the Château of Hautlieu occupying at least twenty pages in that splendid work of which he sent us a copy, and which will remain a lasting monument of his zeal and erudition."

Dr. Dibdin is extremely polite," said the Marquis; “and, When we have had our coffee-here it comes-we will go to the turret; and I hope, as Monsieur has not despised my poor fare, so he will pardon the state of my confused library, while I shall be equally happy if it can afford any thing which can give him amusement. Indeed," he added, "were it otherwise, you, my good father, have every right over books, which, without your intervention, would never have returned to the owner."

Although this additional act of courtesy was evidently wrested by the importunity of the Curé from his reluctant friend, whose desire to conceal the nakedness of the land, and the extent of his losses, seemed always to struggle with his disposition to be obliging, I could not help accepting an offer, which, in strict politeness, I ought perhaps to have refused. But then the remains of a collection of such curiosity as had given to our bibliomaniacal friend the desire of leading the forlorn hope in an escalade-it would have been a desperate act of self-denial to have declined an opportunity of seeing it. La Jeunesse brought coffee, such as we only taste on the continent, upon a salver, covered with a napkin, that it might be cense for silver; and chassi-caffe from Martinique on a small waiter, which was certainly so. Our repast thus finished, the Marquis led me, up an escalier derobe, into a very large and well-proportioned saloon, of nearly one hundred feet in length; but so waste and dilapidated, that I kept my eyes on the ground, lest my kind entertainer should feel himself called upon to apologize for tattered pictures and torn tapestry; and, worse than both, for casements that had yielded, in one or two instances, to the boisterous blast.

"We have contrived to make the turret something more habitable," said the Marquis, as he moved hastily through this chamber of desolation. "This," he said, "was the picture gallery in former times, and in the boudoir beyond, which we now occupy as a book-closet, were preserved some curious ca binet paintings, whose small size required that they should be viewed closely."

As he spoke, he held aside a portion of the tapestry I have mentioned, and we entered the room of which he spoke. It was octangular, corresponding to the external shape of the turret whose interior it occupied. Four of the sides had latticed windows, commanding each, from a different point, the most beautiful prospect over the majestic Loire, and the adjacent country through which it winded; and the casements were filled with stained glass, through two of which streamed the lustre of the setting sun, showing a brilliant assemblage of religious emblems and armorial bearings, which it was scarcely possible to look at with an undazzled eye; but the other two windows, from which the sunbeams had passed away, could be closely examined, and plainly showed that the lattices were glazed with stained glass, which did not belong to them originally, but, as I afterwards learned, to the profaned and dese crated chapel of the Castle. It had been the amusement of the Marquis, for several months, to accomplish this rifacimento, with the assistance of the Curate and the all-capable La Jeunesse; and though they had only patched together fragments, which were in many places very minute, yet the stained glass, till examined very closely, and with the eye of an antiquary, produced, on the whole, a very pleasing effect.

The sides of the apartment, not occupied by the lattices, were (except the space for the small door) fitted up with presses and

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