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my lord, thy effrontery passes the bounds of belief, as well as patience! But it shall avail thee nothing.-What, ho! my lords, come all and hear the news-My Lord of Leicester's stolen marriage has cost me a husband, and England a king. His lordship is patriarchal in his tastes one wife at a time was insufficient, and he designed us the honour of his left hand. Now, is not this too insolent,-that I could not grace him with a few marks of courtfavour, but he must presume to think my hand and crown at his disposal?--You, however, think better of me; and I can pity this ambitious man, as I could a child, whose bubble of soap has burst between his hands. We go to the presencechamber--My lord of Leicester, we command your close attendance on us."

All was eager expectation in the hall, and what was the universal astonishment, when the Queen said to those next her, "The revels of Kenilworth are not yet exhausted, my lords and ladies-we are to solemnize the noble owner's marriage."

There was an universal expression of surprise.

Anthony himself, as if anxious to see that Tressilian and Raleigh arrived;
the countess suffered no want of accom- when Varney seemed to take a fiend-
modation, visited her place of confine-ish pleasure in pointing out to them the
ment. He was so much staggered at the remains of the murdered countess,
mildness and patience with which she
seemed to endure her confinement, that while he, at the same time, defied them
he could not help earnestly recommend- to shew that he had had any share in her
ing to her not to cross the threshold of death." Varney took poison, and Fos-
her room on any account whatsoever, un- ter betaking him to a place of conceal-
til Lord Leicester should come, "Which," ment in his own house, locked the door
he added, "I trust in God, will be very on himself, and, being unable to es-
soon." Amy patiently promised that she cape, miserably perished. Sir Hugh
would resign herself to her fate, and Fos- Robsart died very soon after his daugh-
ter returned to his hardened companion ter, having left his estate to Tressilian,
with his conscience half-eased of the pe- who embarked with Raleigh for Virgi-
rilous load that weighed on it. "I have
warned her," he said; "surely in vain is
the snare set in the sight of any bird."

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nia, and young in years but old in griefs, died, before his day, in that foreign land.'

We have entered so fully into the story of Kenilworth, and given such copious extracts, that we might commit the work to our readers without a sin

He left, therefore, the countess's door unsecured on the outside, and under the eye of Varney, withdrew the supports which sustained the falling trap, which, therefore, kept its level position merely by a slight adhesion. They withdrew to We cannot, however, wait the issue on the ground-floor adjoin-gle comment. ing, but they waited long in vain. At but observe, that, notwithstanding its length Varney, after walking long to and many beauties, it falls short of the forfro, with his face muffled in his cloak, mer productions of the same author, "It is true, on our royal word," said threw it suddenly back, and said, "Sure- and is even inferior to Ivanhoe. The the Queen; "he hath kept this a secretly never was a woman fool enough to ne- character of Raleigh is feebly drawn, even from us, that he might surprise us glect so fair an opportunity of escape!" and Shakespeare has had less attention with it at this very place and time. I see Perhaps she is resolved," said Fos-devoted to him than we could have you are dying of curiosity to know the ter, "to await her husband's return." happy bride-It is Amy Robsart, the same who, to make up the May-game yesterday, figured in the pageant as the wife of his servant Varney.'

"For God's sake, madam," said the earl, approaching her with a mixture of humility, vexation, and shame in his countenance, and speaking so low as to be heard by no one else, "take my head, as you threatened in your anger, and spare me these taunts! Urge not a falling man -tread not on a crushed worm."

"A worm, my lord?" said the Queen, in the same tone; "nay, a snake is the nobler reptile, and the more exact similitude-the frozen snake you wot of, which was warmed in a certain bosom"

"For your own sake-for mine, ma'dam," said the earl-" while there is yet some reason left in me"

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True!-most true," said Varney, rushing out, "I had not thought of that before."

wished. Although there is no scandal about Queen Elizabeth,' yet her

character is not delineated with that skill we had expected. The catastrophe is excessively abrupt, and the death of the heroine, whose name has been prominent in three volumes, is dismissed in a single sentence. But, worth is a delightful romance. Many notwithstanding these defects, Keuilof the characters are drawn with a mas

In less than two minutes, Foster, who remained behind, heard the tread of a horse in the court-yard, and then a whistle similar to that which was the earl's usual signal; the instant after, the door of the countess's chamber opened, and, in the same moment the trap-door gave way; There was a rushing sound-a heavy fall -a faint groan-and all was over. At the same instant, Varney called inter hand, particularly that of Varney, at the window, in an accent and tone which is second only to the Iago of our which was an indescribable mixture be- immortal bard. twixt horror and raillery, "Is the bird caught? Is the deed done?"

O God, forgive us !" replied Anthony Foster.

"Why, thou fool," said Varney, "thy toil is ended, and thy reward secure. Look down into the vault-what seest thou ?"

I see only a heap of white clothes, like a snow-drift," said Foster. "O God, she moves her arm!"

By Ber-
Wood-

A Day in Autumn; a Poem, nard Barton. 4to. pp. 31. bridge, 1820. WE have already expressed so favourable an opinion of Mr. Barton's poetical talents,* that we need only to add that the Day in Autumn' is inarked by the same beauties, fine toned poetic fancy and love of the same moral feeling, and the saine nature which we observed in his first volume of Poems, while we think it displays more genius. The InvocaSo pass our troubles," said Varney, tion to Autumn' is a very pleasing poentering the room; "I dreamed not fetical description of that season of the could have mimicked the earl's call so

Hurl something down on her.-Thy chest, Tony-it is an heavy one." Varney, thou art an incarnate fiend!" replied Foster;"There needs nothing more-she is gone!"

The Queen refuses, and orders Tres-gold silian, accompanied by Raleigh, to be despatched to Cumnor. On their way they find Lambourne, who had been shot by Varney, lest he should no longer conceal his villainies. Varney reaches Cumnor with the countess :

On the next day, when evening approached, Varney summoned Foster to the execution of their plan. Tider and Foster's old man-servant were sent on a feigned errand down to the village, and

well."'

Oh, if there be judgment in heaven, thou hast deserved it," said Foster, "and wilt meet it!-Thou hast destroyed her by means of her best affections-It is a seething of the kid in the mother's milk."

year :

Autumn! soul soothing season, thou who spreadest

Thy lavish feast for every living thing,Around whose leaf-strew'd path, as on thou treadest,

* See Literary Chronicle for 1820, p. 371.

The year its dying odours loves to fling, Their last faint fragrance sweetly scattering:--O let thy influence, meek, majestic, holy, So consciously around my spirit cling,

That its fix'd frame may be remote from folly, Of sober thought combin'd with gentle melancholy.

If, in the morning of my life, to Spring

I paid my homage with a heart elate; And with each flutt'ring insect on the wing, Or small bird singing to his happy mate, And Flora's festival then held in state :

If joyous sympathy with these was mine, O! still allow me now to dedicate

To thee a loftier song ;-that tone assign Unto my murm'ring lyre, which Nature gives to thine.

A tone of thrilling softness, now as caught

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O poesy! thou dear delightful art!

Of sciences by far the most sublime;
Who acting rightly thy immortal part,

Art virtue's handmaid,-censor stern of
crime,-

Nature's high priest, and chronicler of time;
The nurse of feeling, the interpreter

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The heroine of the novel is a Miss Isabella Templeton, the daughter of Lord Murray, by Miss Etheridge, the daughter of a clergyman. Lord Murray is the only son of the Earl of Annandale, and did not happen to be

From light winds sweeping o'er a stubble of purest passion;—who, in manhood's prime, born until an elder sister, Lady Mar

field:-
And now and then be with those breezes brought
A murmur musical, of winds conceal'd
In coy recesses, by escape reveal'd :-

And ever and anon, still deeper tone
Of winter's gath'ring dirge, at distance peal'd,
By harps and hands unseeu; and only known

In age or infancy alike can'st stir
The heart's most secret thoughts.'

The strong religious feeling which
breathes throughout the whole poem, is
very fervidly expressed in the following
stanza:-

To some enthusiast's ear when worshippingOne topic more:-still Night will yet intrude

alone.

No more of invocation! Bright the day
-Arose; as if the glorious sun were bent,

(Like some proud monarch, whose declining

sway

Is still majestic and magnificent,)
On once more filling his own firmament
With undiminish'd splendour.'

Mr. Barton is a member of the Society of Friends; and, although we are far from thinking that the members of that respectable body are now generally inimical to poetry, yet, perhaps, a consciousness that some are not very friendly to it, has induced the author to vindicate gentle poesy' in the following stanzas:

Upon my serious thoughts while hymning
thee:

Thou art the emblem, type, similitude,

Are loath the appreach of Death's dark night to
Of silence yet more awful! although we

see!

Father of mercies! thou whose goodness gave
Thy son belov'd, man's sacrifice to be,
Grant that in life's last hour my soul may

crave,

Nor crave in vain, His love to light me through
the grave.'

We will not borrow farther from a
poem of thirty pages, having quoted
sufficient to shew the poetical genius,
the amiable character, and the strong
religious feelings of the author.

garet, had attained sufficient age to entertain the hope of perpetuating in her own person, the title of the family. The enmity of this lady to her brother, on being thus put aside from the succession, was insatiable. Lord Murray dies suddenly, soon after the birth of our heroine. Lady Margaret administers opium to the child; and its moThe child, however, recovers, and is ther and all around believe it dead. sent by the lady to a Dr. Neville, in Wales, in a mysterious way, as Isabella Templeton. The doctor and his lady bring the child up with parental fondness, until she attains the of age eighteen or twenty, when she is seen by Lord Murray, the son of Lady Margaret, by a Mr. Irving. He loves her, but his mother, who, on the death of her father, assumed the title of Countess of Annandale, has Isabella kidnapped by some smugglers, and conveyed to London. Here she is first 12mo. pp. 946. London, 1821. placed with a former servant of the A PRETTY extensive field our author has countess, and afterwards as companion taken, when he attempts to shew us to lady Susan Violet. Isabella's charms what the world is. Its varieties, how-excite universal admiration. ever, are too great to be all developed even in a novel of three volumes. It is too much the character of modern productions of this class, that they are either tame in language, destitute of incident, or too romantic in the story. All these errors the author of Such is the World,' has avoided. His style is far above mediocrity: the incidents of his novel are highly interesting, and the story does not encroach too much on The cause we wish to serve by our unworthy lay. improbability. The characters in the

The Muses are not innately oppos'd

To pure religion-witness Cowper's lyre,
And those more awful visions once disclos'd
To him, the loftiest of our tuneful choir,
Seraphic Milton, whose lips felt the fire
Caught from the altar's live coal; prompted
whence,

Inverse which, although numerous, could not tire,
He sang of themes beyond our finite sense,
And pour'd his heavenly song with holy elo-

quence.

Not that a poet by his craft is bound

To be for ever harping heavenly themes;
Though palms unfading grow on holy ground,
And at their feet are everlasting streams,
And many a spot with holiest vision teems,
Replete with inspiration; still we may
Be more familiar with them than beseems
True reverence, and unguardedly betray

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Such is the World. A Novel. 3 vols.

novel, which embrace all ranks and de-
grees of men,' from a duke down to the
hostler of an inn, are drawn with a fi-
delity and correctness, which none but
a person who has mixed much in the
world could have sketched. Another
merit this novel possesses, in which we
should be happy to see every work
of the kind resemble it; we mean,

Lord Murray discovers her, and vows unalterable love; the countess, however, in order to thwart it, sends him abroad. Isabella attends the ladies to a masquerade, where an artful villain, Count le Grand, who paid her particular attentions, is seen with her by Lord Murray, who was also in mask. A deep laid plot, to ruin the young innocent, makes his lordship jealous of her affection, and he hastens back to Paris, and marries the daughter of the Duke of Weobly,-a match brought about by the artifices of her mother. Isabella escapes from her persecutors, and is met by Dr. Neville, and his friend Mr. Lindley; her true history is discovered, and she is declared, by incontestible evidence, the heir of the noble House of Annandale. Lord Murray's mother, on finding her plot discovered,

dies of grief and remorse; his lordship nearly frantic enters a monastery, but afterwards returns to the world and lives happily with his wife. Our heroine, Isabella, now Countess of Annandale, marries a worthy gentleman, a Mr. Sterling, and all the subordinate characters in the drama are disposed of according to their deserts.

suppressed emotion, "There, sir, lies Isabella Templeton, your future ward."

The good man turned towards the bed, and stood wrapped in meditation as he him. A pearly tear bedewed its rosy gazed upon the sleeping infant before cheek, while an occasional short sob further betrayed that the babe had been hushed to sleep after a violent fit of crying.

'Just as the doctor pronounced these words, the servant-maid entered the breakfast parlour, to say, that a sick parishioner begged his presence immediateto the bed of sickness, where he passed ly. The good man accordingly hastened some time administering those consolations with which religion soothes the last hours of the dying Christian. The doctor did not return home till dinner-time; Such is a very hasty sketch of the and, when the cloth was drawn, the ex- "Poor babe!" exclaimed the doctor; plot, which possesses considerable in- pected child became again the subject of poor little forsaken child! if I at the terest, and is throughout very well ma- conversation. Mrs. Neville was not to first sight of thee feel thus, what must thy naged. There are several scenes, both be convinced; and her husband's argu- mother have felt at parting with thee! of a serious and comic cast, which give into commands, when the servant came address the unknown female, madam, ments were on the point of being changed Madam," continued he, turning round to a favourable opinion of the author, but in, saying that Jenkins was come with a you may rest" He stopped short, we select one at the commencement message, that a lady had arrived at the for the woman was gone! "This is very which contains both. Dr. Neville has Llewellyn's Head, and desired Doctor strange," resumed he; "but she is no just received the mysterious letter, an-Neville would attend her as soon as pos- doubt below." Thither the doctor bent nouncing the infant charge consigned sible. The doctor rose hastily, and quit- his steps; but just as he reached the botto his care. ted the room without uttering one word. tom of the stairs, a post-chaise and four "What sort of a woman, Betty?" in- drove rapidly from the inn door, conquired Mrs. Neville, as her husband clos-taining, as he was informed by Jenkins, the "veiled lady." ed the door after him.

'As soon as Mrs. Neville had read this

singular epistle, she exclaimed, "I hope, doctor, you do not intend to take in this child belonging to nobody knows who.You may do as you please-but I shall never consent to it-I dare say, it is

the "

«Ma'am, a lady,' Jenkins said :-he didn't say what sort of lady; but he said, La! Betty, what a sweet baby she has with her !i

seemed breathless at the disappointment "And," said the landlady, who to which the sudden departure of her guest subjected her, "and the lady, sir, "What can I do?" interrupted her desired I would tell you this trunk con"Baby!" exclaimed Mrs. Neville, tained the baby's wardrobe; but she did husband. "The child is already on the colouring deeply. "Fetch me my bon-not mention this small bundle, which, I road, and surely, Mary, you will not shut net and cloak directly, Betty, and make think, she left by mistake. I took hold your door against helpless, friendless, in-haste. Sweet baby, indeed!" rejoined of it while she was fumbling for her purse she. "Bless me, how long Betty is to pay us; and she hurried into the chaise Betty-Betty, I say, make haste!” so fast, and was off so soon —

nocence?"

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"Coming, ma'am; but I can't find your gloves."

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"Give it me, ma'am," said Jenkins, who had by this time put the trunk on his shoulder; "it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good."

"Poor baby!" continued Mrs. Ap shenkins, "it cried sadly when 'twas unsecond call obliged her to descend with-dressed, and the lady cried too. Shall I out them. open the bundle, sir?"

Dear me, Doctor Neville," resumed his wife, "I am not really equal to the fatigue of taking charge of so young a child: we must have an extra servant for it-a nurse-a girl at least we must have O, never mind the gloves!" replied —we cannot afford it-besides, what will Mrs. Neville. But the maid, though asthe villagers say of me-ay, of us both tonished at the impatience of her misIs not our parish reckoned the most order-tress, still lingered to look for them, till a ly of any for miles round? And has it not been my pride that it should contain Bone but honest women, and orderly young men? Will they not say, ah! Madam Neville can harbour a love child when it belongs to great folks; she will be well paid for it, no doubt.-I tell you, husband, I never can consent to such a thing."

"How can you not? Mrs. Neville, you are too warm; and your warmth leads you to suspect that for which you have no foundation. Now I should have thought, since it has pleased heaven to deprive you of your own cherubs, that this poor forsaken little one would, in some degree, have replaced those you loved so well. Think, Mary, if perchance your own child had laid claim to the protection of a stranger, how you would have felt, had that stranger shut his door against your offspring."

"Doctor," interrupted his wife," the case is quite different. Here is a child, of nobody knows who, absolutely forced upon us. We might have been asked whether or not an addition to our family would have been agreeable."

"I ask you to receive it," replied Dr. Neville. I ask you to take compassion on Isabella Templeton."

Hastily putting on her bonnet and The doctor, more amazed than ever, cloak, Mrs. Neville sallied forth from her eagerly seized the bundle, which the hostown house for the inn. Dr. Neville, in ess declined giving up to Jenkins. It had the mean time, had made the best of his occurred to the vicar, that it might conway thither, preceded by Jenkins, who, tain a clue to the mystery in which this though advanced in years, had all the whole day's work seemed enveloped; agility of youth, and more of its vivacity and, again ascending the stairs, he gently than remains when wit exercises its play-raised the sleeping infant. The doctor fulness under the guardianship of experi- had been a parent; and, pressing his lips ence. But with Jenkins there was softly upon the little innocent's cheek, he time to speak, and a time to keep si repeated, "I will be a father to thee, lence;" and at present the latter seemed thou poor deserted little one! Bring the dictated either by prudence, or the old portmanteau after me," said he to Jenman's desire to leave the doctor's mind kins." in its best state of preparation for an unexpected surprise.

66

a

The old man obeyed; and following the doctor, who was absorbed in the conAs soon as they arrived at the inn templation of his beautiful and innocent door, Dr. Neville was told by the hostess, charge, passed on unconscious of the nods that" a lady waited for him in the best and significant looks of the villagers, who bed-room." Thither the doctor proceed- had been drawn together at the novel ed: and, eagerly ascending the stair, he spectacle of a post-chaise in Oldenwood. was followed by the very significant. Neville had scarcely passed through smiles of the landlady and her attendants. Upon entering the room, the door of which Jenkins opened, Dr. Neville bowed to a tall and neatly dressed female, who wore a thick and long veil. She curtsied, and, pointing to the bed, said, in an under tone, which appeared tremulous from

the inn-yard, when he was met by his wife, who coloured up as she approached him. He was rocking the infant, for it appeared to be waking; indeed, at this mo ment it opened its soft blue eyes; and fixing them on the doctor, it put up its lip, but turning its head, it caught sight of

the softened features of Mrs. Neville, and stretched out its little arms to her, when the good woman, (she really was a good woman,) burst into tears as the doctor, holding the infant to her, said, "For my sake, Mary, be a mother to it."

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My own sweet Mary had blue eyes," said Mrs. Neville, as she pressed the baby to her breast. Oh, nature! thou powerful pleader! who can resist thee? One single look of thine has pierced the hardest hearts; no wonder, then, that Mrs. Neville's prejudices should be subdued at thy appeal.

Betty's surprise, as her master and mistress and old Jenkins entered the house, was beyond description. It is true that this country girl had had some intimation of the doctor's errand to the inn; but the babe Mrs. Neville carried in her arms was presented so suddenly, and so unexpectedly, to poor Betty's view, as to create the liveliest impression; and there was, besides, something of mystery in the appearance of the infant. In short, if Betty had studied the most learned disquisition on the passions, she could not have had a better incident to illustrate the law of excitement on which wonder is principally grounded.

Put down the portmanteau, Jenkins," said the doctor; and the old man did so and departed.

"And Betty," said Mrs. Neville, "Betty, run to Sally Meadows, and say I want her eldest girl to come here immediately."

Betty, beckoning to Jenkins to stop, she soon joined him; and her curiosity instantly led her to inquire into this very extraordinary affair. As, however, Mrs. Neville was an exceedingly particular mistress, whose disposition Betty had well studied, the girl could tarry no time to question or argue with Jenkins. She was thence obliged to be content for the present with mere facts, so few and brief as to be very unsatisfactory to her mind. Onward she hastened to Sally Meadows's cottage, while Jenkins struck off in an opposite direction, to regain the inn.

The case was different at the porch of the Llewellyn's Head. There opinions were various. The appearance of a chaise and four, driving with rapidity into the village of Oldenwood, had roused from their hearths all the gossips of the place; and the dust, put in motion by the horses' feet and the wheels of the vehicle, was not more evanescent in its action than the ideas which now floated in the brains of Dr. Neville's female parishioners. As, however, a short space only elapsed ere the same machine glided again past their eyes, there occurred to some one's mind a vague idea, that more might be learned at the Llewellyn's Head, from the servants, than by conjecture. Accordingly, by the time Jenkins reached the inn gate, a motley group had assembled, to terminate their curiosity by the acquisition of knowledge. All were inquisitive, for the sight was strange to every one; each had

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her peculiar question, for it was rarely
such a sight was seen in Oldenwood; and
many were the significant and penetrating
suppositions as to the origin of Isabella
Templeton.

Mrs. Apshenkins, the landlady, was
in general the first to give her opinion on
all subjects; but, in the present instance,
she yielded to the torrent of speculative
guesses which were thrown out by the
gossips. Though habit had taught our
hostess to play the servant to her custo-
mers, when her judgment was appealed
to, in matters which concerned not her
immediate calling, no woman in Olden-
wood evinced more vanity than Mrs. Ap-
shenkins.

But it may not be out of place to ac-
count for this woman's self-love.
'Mrs. Apshenkins was a native of Lon-
don, with whom Mr. Apshenkins had be-
come enamoured while he put up at an
inn in West Smithfield, whither he had
driven some Welsh cattle for sale. At
that period, Mrs. Apshenkins was bar-
maid; and, Mr. Apshenkins having pre-
ferred his suit with much devotion, the
young woman smiled on it with approv-
ing condescension. She had put by a
few pounds while in this situation; and
with that sum, and what other pence
Mr. Apshenkins had hoarded while a
drover's man, they came to Oldenwood,
his native village, and bought the good
will of the Llewellyn's Head, the then
landlord having preferred the wilds of
Louisiana to the comforts of Wales.

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At this part of Mrs. Apshenkins's speech, an involuntary shudder seized the ignorant, but virtuous women, who had gathered around her. Thus, in one instant, the mere reference to an act of wanton cruelty, excited a passion the very opposite of what had tickled the fancy of these lowly Welsh women. Mrs. Apshenkins had put her apron to her eye; the rest followed her example. The mental agony of an allusion is but momentary-the description, in detail, of scenes from which our natures recoil, is durable. So it was at the porch of the Llewellyn's Head. The experienced landlady had been appealed to.

"I do believe," continued she, "this infant has been brought over to Madam Neville." And the conclave, whose mind possessed sufficient elasticity to revibrate to the tune it had been amused with but a few seconds back, stared with astonishment at the penetration Mrs. Apshenkins discovered by this speech.

Jenkins bad, at this moment, reached the skirts of the group, and he was assailed by many voices communicating the discovery which had so lately and so wisely been made. The oddity of the assembly, and the absurdity of the conjecture, overbalanced the old man's gravity. He burst into " a horse laugh," as they say, who know how that quadruped displays its joy in violent convulsions of merriment. But Jenkins, one of those who have few wants, and still fewer cares, could be whirled into cheerfulness by any Mrs. Apshenkins' opinion was in ge- very trivial circumstances of a joyful kind, neral a fiat from which little or no appeal and when things facetious or ludicrous was ever made in the village. There augmented the social sympathy of the were, indeed, a few old women who old man's lively disposition, his gladness maintained that the comfortable looking became noisy and boisterous. In its zeal landlady had been occasionally mistaken to communicate itself to all who could in her decision; but the majority of the participate in its pleasures, it not unfrevillagers believed that "a Lunnun ladyquently broke out in that invincible ha! must be wiser in some matters than poor ha! ha! which the poet calls," laughter women who had never been twenty miles holding both his sides." from home." The smile which played round her saffron lips was, therefore, eagerly scrutinised; but it was not until all had decided upon the birth and parentage of Isabella Templeton, that Mrs. Apshenkins deigned to hazard an opinion upon the subject in discussion.

"You are all far from the point," said she; "for I do confidently believe that this child is of noble, nay, of royal parentage. You may well stare, that know no better; but has not she blue eyes? and has not she a long nose?—I mean one that will be long. And had not the Queen of France blue eyes, and a long nose?—Yes, she had; and I do verily believe," said Mrs. Apshenkins, when pressed for her opinion as to the baby's origin,-"I do verily believe, that it is the child of the Queen of France, born in the prison just before her death."

"Dead!" exclaimed twenty voices, at one and the same time.

"Yes," rejoined Mrs. Apshenkins; "wasn't I reading about the jacobins beheading her?"

"Queen of France, indeed!" cried he" Noa, noa; I knows better than all that. Didn't I carry the portmantle a'ter the doctor? And didn't I see him hug the little un, and kiss it? And didn't I hear him say to Madam Neville, be a mother to it, Mary, for my sake?' Now, who talks of the Queen of France? Noa, noa,-this here bantling is no sitch great things, depend on't. Why it's as clear as my name's Jenkins whose cub it is. Ay, ay, some folks should look at home a bit."

A lifting up of hands and eyes follow. ed this sagacious harangue.

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Well! who would have thought it?" said one.

"Why, you might have guessed as much," said another. In short, Mrs. Apshenkins herself was struck with this evidence of the doctor's frailty; and, after many wise observations upon people seeing the mote in their brother's eye, and being insensible to the beam in their own, the party separated, fully convinced, that the little stranger was the illegitimate off

who.

place of removal, as some report, to the
monks of Abingdon. There is, also,
in the said house, a chamber, called

spring of Dr. Neville and nobody knew The doctor's sermon, on the following Sunday, confirmed the suspicion of his parishioners, for he chose the follow-Dudley's Chamber, where the Earl of ing text: "Judge not, lest ye be judged." Leicester's wife was murdered, of which Nods and winks, and sarcastic simpers, this is the story following:accompanied his exit from the churchyard; but it was not until Madam Ne-a very goodly personage, and singu-ter, who had that day forcibly sent

Thus we have discovered among the poor people of Oldenwood, all the elements of painful suspicion-that comfortless state of doubt, which leaves the mind embarrassed concerning the conduct and character of another. But what was the accusation? The appearance of an infant babe, of whose parentage Dr. Neville himself was ignorant. What was the evidence to support the accusation the poor people preferred against their vicar? The friendly language, "be a mother to it, Mary, for my sake." Yet were these incidents sufficient to trouble the repose of confidence these poor people placed in Dr. Neville; and their esteem lowered towards the good man, as from Sally Meadow's eldest girl the gossips learned, that, with time, his attachment to Isabella Templeton augmented.'

Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester,

way taking no effect, she would not escape their violence, which afterwards happened thus:-For Richard Varney, above said, (the chief projector in this design), who, by the earl's order, remained that day of her death alone with her, with one man only, and Forsville's back was turned that these became larly well featured, being a great fa- away all her servants to Abingdon marevident. The buzz of many voices fol- vourite to Queen Elizabeth, it was ket, about three miles distant from this lowed the departure of the doctor and thought, and commonly reported, that place, they (I say, whether first stifling his wife; and amongst the idle and dis-had he been a batchelor or widower, her, or else strangling her) afterwards sipated, for such are to be found in most the queen would have made him her flung her down a pair of stairs, and places, the innocent and unconscious Isabella Templeton was the vehicle by means husband; to this end, to free himself broke her neck, using much violence of which scandal diffused the vague and of all obstacles, he commands, or per- upon her; but, however, though it was . thence more readily believed tale, of the haps with fair flattering intreaties de- vulgarly reported that she by chance guilt of one of the best of men. sires, his wife to repose herself here, at fell down stairs, (but yet without hurthis servant Anthony Forster's house, ing her hood that was upon her head,) who then lived in the aforesaid manor-yet the inhabitants will tell you there, house; and also prescribed to Sir Ri- that she was conveyed from her usual chard Varney, (a prompter to his de-chamber where she lay, to another sign) at his coming hither, that he where the bed's head of the chamber should first attempt to poison her, and stood close to a privy postern door, if that did not take effect, then by any where they in the night came and stiother way whatever to dispatch her. fled her in the bed, bruised her head This, it seems, was proved by the re- very much, broke her neck, and at port of Dr. Walter Bayly, sometime length flung her down stairs, thereby Fellow of New College, then living at believing the world would have thought Oxford, and professor of physic in that it a mischance, and so have blinded But behold the mercy university, who, because he would not their villainy. consent to take away her life by poi- and justice of God in revenging and son, the earl endeavoured to displace discovering this lady's murder; for one from the court. This man, it seems, of the persons that was a coadjutor in reported for most certain, that there this murder, was afterwards taken for was a practice in Cumnor among the a felony in the marshes of Wales, and conspirators to have poisoned this offering to publish the mauner of the young lady, a little before she was aforesaid murder, was privately made killed, which was attempted after this away in the prison by the earl's apmanner. They seeing the good lady pointment. And Sir Richard Varney, sad and heavy, (as one that well knew the other dying about the same time in by her other handling that her death London, cried miserably, and blaswas not far off,) began to persuade her phemed God, and said to a person of A Holiday Letter for a Young Lady, that the present disease was abun-note (who hath related the same to expressive of her Duties when absent dance of melancholy and other hu- others since) not long before his death, from School. By Mrs. J. A. Sar-mours, &c. and, therefore, would needs that all the devils in hell did tear gant. pp. 44. London, 1821. him to pieces. Forster, likewise, after THE motto multum in parvo has seldom this fact, being a man formerly adreceived a happier or more appropriate dicted to hospitality, company, mirth, application than in speaking of the and music, was afterwards observed to elegant bijou, the Holiday Letter.' forsake all this with much melancholy It breathes the pure spirit of Christiand pensiveness (some say with madanity, and inculcates the most excelness) pined and drooped away. The lent precepts for the guidance of those wife also of Bald Butter, kinsman to early blossoms of nature's fairest work, the earl, gave out the whole fact a litfor whose use it is intended. tle before his death. Neither are these following passages to be forgotten, that as soon as ever she was murdered, they made great haste to bury her, before the coroner had given in his inquest, (which the earl himself condemned as not done advisedly,) which her father or Sir John Robertsett, (as I suppose,) hearing of, came with all speed hither, caused her corpse to be taken up, the coroner to sit upon her, and for inquiry

We have devoted more room to this novel than we are accustomed to do in general, but we think our readers, on reading, will find it to justify our remarks, and will say Such is the World.'

counsel her to take some potion, which she absolutely refused to do, as still suspecting the worst; whereupon they sent a messenger on a day (unawares to her) for Dr. Bayly, and intreated him to persuade her to take some little potion by his direction, and they would fetch the same at Oxford, meaning to have added something of their own for her comfort, as the doctor upon just cause and consideration did suspect, seeing their great importunity, and the small need the lady had of a physician, and therefore, he peremptorily denied their request, misdoubting, (as he afterwards reported,) least if they had At the west end of the Church of poisoned her under the name of his Camnor, (says Ashmole, in his Anti- potion, he might have been hanged for quities of Berkshire) are the ruins of a a colour of their sin; and the doctor manor, anciently belonging as a cell or I remained still well assured, that this

ORIGINAL STORY

ON WHICH

THE ROMANCE OF KENILWORTH

IS FOUNDED.

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