compositions. Their patience in endurance of ill, their passion for the good and the beautiful, and even their recklessness of mind, are an evidence that the same spirit is ever living, and ever present, in the depth of their bosoms in the retirement of their homes, in the hopes and wishes that extend no farther than the little circle of their domestic sympathies, and in the love and | joy of which the world is intended to know nothing. When a biographer has a sufficient acquaintance with his subject, and feeling enough to show us the man as well as the author, his work has a merit and an interest far higher than could be attributed to it for its most important illustrations of literary history. reader, but for the scholar and the antiquary. There was also a fatal discord among the King's Of these eminent political rivals, the Lord-Keeper Archbishop of York, was the master genius. As a Williams-then Bishop of Lincoln, and afterwards scholar, he partook, in common with many of that learned age, of that prodigal erudition which delights in inexhaustible quotations from writers whom we now deem obscure-but whose aptitude or felicity startles us, while we are reminded, that what lies forgotten may be as valuable as that which is remembered. But the native faculties of Williams excelled his acquired powers. His scintillant wit, his acute discrimination, his vigorous eloquence, come vitiated to our taste, by the quaintness or the pedantry of the prevalent style; his great powers seem encumbered by their worthless ornaments, but this ecclesiastical Lord-Keeper had far advanced beyond his age in the wide comprehension of his mind. His practised touch opened the hearts of men, and his commanding spirit appeared as much in the magnificence of his life, as in the might of his genius. 'When the Parliament met, the practices of the Lord-Keeper, with some of the leading men in the House of Commons, had insured him a strong party." This party was an awful engine, which his potent hand might wield at a secret touch. The Lord-Keeper, observing the rising faction which had threatened to call him to account, in the very presence of the King, on the first day he delivered his official speech,—soon turned round. He knew the lawyers were more particularly vehement against a churchman holding the seals, which they deemed to be the privilege of their brotherhood. Williams, unconscious that he himself was one of "the fatted calves" for sacrifice, directed luctant confession it appears that he had held a secret the storm from bursting on his own head. By his reintercourse with some of that party whom the courtiers called "the chief tribunes of the Parliament." He urged them to look about for nobler game, "fitter for such hunters than a silly priest." The suggestion was not whispered to the deaf or the dumb. The bunters soon chased the Duke; and, in the re-action, the Duke chased the Lord-Keeper. 6 Intriguers usually drink out of the same poisoned chalice. The betrayer of his patron, in his turn, was betrayed by him whom he had patronised. This person was the famous Laud; he for whom Williams had procured his first rochet, and who then declared that "his life would be too short to requite that goodness." This new Bishop, ere his linen robe had hardly fallen into its folds, within eighteen months of his gratitude, -so short is its terms in politics!-observing that his patron was incurring the anger of Buckingham, avoided the falling greatness; while in that fall be meditated, night and day, on his own rise. If the worldly passions of a mere laic can work among churchmen at the distant prospect of a peaceable mitre, they rise with redoubled violence when churchmen are ministers of state, and ascend to pre-eminence in power by the dislodging of a rival. In this particular instance these passions so strongly affected the busy brain of Laud, that they painted their scenes in his very dreams. These he has superstitiously chronicled; they were the terrors and the jealousies, the hopes and the pleasantness, of his political day *. "October 3, Friday. I was with my Lord-Keeper, to whom I found some had done me some very ill offices. And he was very jealous of L. B's. (Lord Bucking. ham's) favour. 'As a statesman, his quick apprehension acted like inspiration; his sagacity struck with the force of prediction; but his restless ambition, though capable of more noble designs, and even of more generous feelings, had systematised intrigue; and what he could not obtain by wisdom and integrity, he would circumvent by servility and cunning. A great politician, but as subtle a Machiavellian, he maintained a whole establishment of the "juggling fiends" of espionage, and a long line of secret communication made him the centre of every political movement. It was a maxim with him, that no one could be a statesinan without a great deal of money; and he once confessed that, from his studies of divinity, he had gleaned another principle, licet uti altero peccato, to make the sins of others useful. As he was not scrupulous in his means, ""December 14, Sunday night. I did dream that for a temporary purpose, he exercised a peculiar faamong other extraordinary methods of gaining men the Lord-Keeper was dead; that I passed by one of his men that was about a monument for him; that [ culty, which, if it deserve a name, we may call politi-heard him say, his lower lip was infinitely swelled and cal imagination. Clarendon tells us, that on any par- fallen, and he rotten already. This dream did trouble ticular occasion he could invent entire scenes, and lengthened conversations, perfectly appropriate to the persons, all which had never occurred. Such artful fictions had all the force of nature and truth. These apparent confidential disclosures made the stubborn, credulous; and the irresolute, firm. No period of history, either ancient or modern, has had so many commentators as the reign of Charles the First. Men of all parties have spoken on the subjects it involves, with more than ordinary political fierceness; and works written on every point of constitutional history, have referred, for their most powerful arguments and interesting illustrations, to the events it records. A judicious reader of history will receive important benefit from this superabundance of assistance in his reflections; but, to the generality of historical students, it has proved a dangerous snare, and it would be difficult to find a subject on which more common-place errors, or unphilosophical opinions, are repeatedly broached, than on the conduct of the unfortunate Charles or his opponents. On every great question of public interest, this must almost always be the case; but there are some in which its consequences are worse than others; some on which we should wish to see clear, just, and philosophical views, universally prevailing, and in the discussion of which we feel it is of importance that men in every condition of society should be able to revert to principles that are the same in all ages, and should be taken as rules in the examination of every subject. Such are the questions agitated on the momentous affairs that led to the temporary destruction of the English monarchy. The least important truth to which the right discussion of them brings us, is an establishment of some useful principle in political philosophy for the study of them, in their different relations, unfolds more of the mysteries of social action, than the survey of almost any other period. But the more important a subject is, the less likely are we to find men treating it with that strict attention to unalloyed truth, which can alone render the examination useful. Facts are made of less value than opinions, and truth is venerated only as it speaks in unison with passion. So conspicuously has this been the case with the historians of the reign of Charles and their commentators, that we know of no one which could be put into the hands of an inexperienced reader with safety, till pains had been taken to guard him against some strong party misrepresentation of the author. It is, however, only from a multitude of witnesses, when a subject is debated with much virulence, that we stand a chance of arriving at any safe conclusion: we do not mean of witnesses who come to plead the cause of either side, but of such as bring additional facts to explain the occurrence of known incidents, and who have come before the public with the professed intention of assisting its judgment, instead of dictating to it. Among such writers Mr. D'Israeli ranks himself. Although his pre-of one who pursues his certain end by uncertain means. sent production takes a higher rank than many of his former publications, it has, in a great measure, the same purpose in view. In bringing considerable good taste, as well as a persevering dili'But these subterranean workers are frequently coungence, to the task of exploring the buried curi-ple toget er in darkness. The mysterious conduct of termined, and are often taken by surprise as they grap osities of knowledge, this author has performed the Lord-Keeper could not entirely hide itself from the a useful service, not merely for the general jealous eyes of the Duke, who once avowed to Lord Lord-Keeper had practised on the fears, and perhaps Master of himself on all occasions, he would show him- me. "December 15. On Monday morning I went about business to my Lord Duke of Buckingham. We had speech in the shield gallery at Whitehall. There I found that the Lord-Keeper had strangely forgotten himself to him; and I think was dead in his affections. Lord of B ckingham. I found that all went not right "December 27, St. John's Day. I was with my with the Lord-Keeper, &c. "January 25. It was Sunday. I was alone, and languishing with I know not what sadness. I was much concerned at the envy and undeserved hatred borne to me by the Lord-Keeper. "February 18, Wednesday. My Lord Duke of Buckingham told me of the reconciliation and submission of my Lord-Keeper; and that it was confessed unto him that his favour unto me was a chief cause. Invidia, quo tendis? &c. At ille de novo færtus pepigit. "March 17. Lord Keeper, his complimenting with "January 13, Sunday. The Bishop of Lincoln desired reconciliation with the Duke of Buckingham, &c. January 14, Sunday. Towards morning I dreamed that the Bishop of Lincoln came, I know not whither, with iron chains. But, returning, loosed from them, leaped on horseback; went away; neither could I overtake him." However, Laud did overtake Williams some years after, and kept him in the Tower for three long years. "March 27. A certain person appeared to him who was dead, and whispering in my ear, told me that I was the cause why the Bishop of London was not again admitted into favour and to court." 'I have sometimes thought that some of these strange dreams were an allegorical representation of his own state of mind and circumstances, which he wished to conceal by this cryptical mode of writing.' 'At the accession of the new Sovereign, the LordKeeper, ere he sunk on the arena, would wrestle with his mightier rival, the Duke. The young King was unhappily placed amidst the struggle, and had to choose between the cold policy of an artful statesman, whom his Father's wisdom had sanctioned, and the warmer influence of affection for the companion of his youth, and one on whom his hope now rested, as the hero and administrator of his glory. When Charles found that the inexorable Parliament would offer but scanty supplies, and that the contagion at London was spreading, he was at a loss how to act. To dissolve them was to leave himself amidst his utmost wants. Buckingham proposed to adjourn to Oxford, but was immediately opposed by the LordKeeper, who advised the prorogation. "It was not," he said, "a change of place, but a change of time, to which the King might look for a favourable change; six months hence might alter the spirit of the Commons.' The Duke, casting an angry look on his opponent, impatiently cried out, that" public necessity must guide us more than one man's jealousy!" On this, the Lord-Keeper prayed the King for a private audience, which was granted. In this interview, Williams informed his Majesty that the Lord-Duke had enemies in the House of Commons, who had no other aim but to bring the Duke on the stage. "Let this malady, or malice, call it which you will, sleep till after Christmas. There is no time lost in whetting the scythe well. At that time I hope to give such an account, by managing the chief sticklers, that they shall abate their bitterness against your great servant, and your Councils shall be peaceable." The King was startled. This was probably the first moment, that he learnt that a faction was formed against his minister and his friend. “Why,” he asked, "do you conceal all this from Buckingham?" "Good Lord, Sir!" was the reply, "fain would I begin at that end, but he will not treat me with moderation." It was obvious that the Lord-Keeper was now staking all his winnings on a single card, in a desperate game of political intrigue. He had succeeded in alarming the Father, and now he hoped to catch the son into an early tutelage. He failed with Charles, whose affections were too real to be shaken, and whose fears were not less genuine of trusting himself in the hands of a powerful intriguer. The Parliament, there. fore, according to the advice of Buckingham, assembled at Oxford. 'Charles now expressed his disappointment at their ineffectual grant. Still no echo of sympathy responded in the House! And now they asserted, in a vague and quibbling manner, that “this Parliament was not bound by another Parliament," and, with a cruel mockery, suggested that "the King should help the cause of the Palatinate with his own money." The King in vain pressed for despatch of business, lest the season should be lost for the navy; observing that "it was the first request that he had ever made to them." The words 66 first request" had an instant effect on some few; but his poor Commons" offer their dear and dread Sovereign" only protestations of duty, alarms of Popery, and petitions on grievances; a term which Coke acknowledged to be premature at so early a period of this reign. There were a few whose hearts had still a pulse to vibrate for a young Prince perplexed by a war which themselves bad instigated, and which, by having placed him at the head of a confederacy in Europe, had involved his own and the national honour in the awful issue. But "the chief sticklers," as the Lord-keeper had called the rising opposition, and which be afterwards designated by a variety of denominations, as "the stirring men," and "the dangerous persons of the House of Commons," and "those disaffected persons who appeared so opposite to the royal ends"these chief sticklers, when the pressing necessity of the times was urged, rejected Necessity as a dangerous counsellor, who would be always furnishing arguments for supplies. "If the King were in danger and necessity, let them answer for it who have put both King and kingdom into this peril." This oblique stroke, which aimed at the Favourite, Charles resented, declaring his ignorance of the cause by which the Duke had incurred their dislike,-he whom, not long since, they had spoken of with the language of idolatry. The King, in despair, dissolved this uncompliant Parliament.'-Vol. i., pp. 247–259. Among the many monarchs who have owed their ruin, or, at least, a great part of their troubles, and those of their kingdom, to the intrigues and cabals of their Courts, Charles holds a conspicuous station. In this he was most unfortunate, as it could be attributed neither to his own vices, nor to those of his consort. They were both under the guidance of evil counsellors, and neither their love nor domestic virtues were able to avert the consequences. Our author has given an interesting notice of the character of the Queen's courtiers: Charles the First, at this early period of his reign, had not only to encounter the troubles of his Parliament, the disaffection of the people excited by his financial difficulties, and the anxieties attendant on his military expeditions; but even his own household opened for him a long scene of mortification, such as has rarely been exhibited under the roofs of the palace of the sovereign. 'Charles and Henrietta had met in youthful love; ardent and heartfelt had been their first embrace; but the design and results of a political marriage could not long be concealed, and their personal happiness was soon not in their own power to command. 'Henrietta, among her French household, forgot her endearing entreaty to Charles, which had so gracefully opened her lips on her arrival, that "he would ever himself, and by no third person, correct her faults of ignorance, youthful and a stranger as she was." In thanking her, the young Monarch desired that "she would use him as she had desired him to use her." 'But Henrietta had the whole French Cabinet invisibly operating on her conduct. Her mother, the Dowager of France, and her brother, t'e Monarch, flattered their hopes that a ductile princess of sixteen might serve as an instrument to maintain the predominance of the French interest in the English Court, nor does the English King appear to have been insensible to their attempt. It is only by entering into the domestic privacies of these royal personages, that we can do justice to Charles in a dilemma equally delicate and difficult. "Of this political marriage, as of so many others, we may detect the secret motives of an union of adverse interests. 'No one, I think, has noticed the character of the French ambassadors who were sent immediately after the marriage. Every ambassador sent by France was acting under the councils of the Louvre to influence the Queen. The Count de Tillières, who had first come over here as Chamberlain to Henrietta, and was afterwards appointed ambassador, was dismissed with the rest of the French; and Charles sent an express prohibition to Tillières, that he should not presume to to set foot on English shore to be near her Majesty, for that," he would no longer suffer his sworn servant to be checkmate with him." 'De Tillières was succeeded by the Marquis de Blainville, whom we find keeping up a secret intercourse with the Queen and her numerous establishment. His official capacity was favourable to this disguised espionage; and his conduct here was such as to have incurred the peremptory refusal of Charles to allow his admittance to the presence either of the Queen or himself. One of the objects of the mission of De Blainville was to remonstrate on the protection which the English Court afforded to Soubise. 'But De Blainville had other important objects, and Charles was aware of them. Our acute English commentator on Bassompierre's journal of his short embassy to the English Court, in alluding to Father Sancy's conduct, one of her Majesty's political attendants, observes, that "one is surprised to find the English Court so early and so well apprised of this man's mission, as it appears they were." The fact is, that Charles had no careless intelligencers at the French Court. Larkin was au active agent of the Duke's; and before De Blainville's arrival in England, his designs had been detected, and Larkin had anticipated his views. He had watched closely for them, and two dark speeches of the Queen-Mother and the Cardinal were for some time riddles hard to unriddle, but he succeeded by the open confession of the Duke de Chevreux. "De Blainville comes," says Larkin, "to: spy and discover what he can, and, according as he shall find cause, to frame cabals and factions, whereunto he is esteemed very proper, being characterised with the marks of a most subtle, prying, penetrating, and dangerous man." At that time, it was the usage for ambassadors to be maintained at the expense of the Court, who provided them with house, diet, and even post-horses; and the ambassadors, on their return home, left the marks of their liberality, or their parsimony, in gratuities to the Master of the Ceremonies, and other attendants. This absurd custom was productive of perpetual jealousies on the side of the ambassadors, and, at length, was found so inconvenient at the Exchequer, that Charles was compelled in his distresses to curtail, and, finally, to refuse this established mode of royal reception. De Blainville, from the moment of his arrival, insisted on being lodged in the King's Palace, and had reverted to some precedent as far back as the reign of Elizabeth; but Charles firmly objected to any foreign ambassador residing so close to him. De Blainville was ever on the watch to make what, in the style of the Master of the Ceremonies, is called an exception;" that is, an allegation of something irregular in etiquette; and this French ambassador proved the most troublesome of guests to the hapless Master of the Ceremonies. Vaunting his high rank at is own Court, as Monsieur le premier, the first Gentleman of the Chamber, and his own great means, he threatened to refuse his Majesty's diet, and live at his own cost. This seemed tantamount to a proclamation of war to the urbane Master of the Ceremonies, who, in his curious diary, has registered these stomachous speeches" with great indignation, and some trepidation. This wayward guest drove poor Sir John Finet to many a cruel shift to allow the ambassador, as a private person, what, if acknowledged to have been granted to him in his public capacity, might have become-that most serious of solemn affairs in the eyes of a Master of the Ceremonies-a precedent! How De Blainville occupied himself here, was, doubtless, not unobserved; but the best accounts of an ambassador's secret proceedings will usually come from the other side of the water. In a confidential despatch of the Earl of Holland at Paris, our Minister was informed of what he could not himself have so well discovered. "I must tell your Grace, that, by a friend whom I am tied not to name, I was showed the private letter that Blainville wrote to the King, in the which he sent him the whole proceedings of the Parliament, and concludes they will ruin you, naming great factions against you." 'De Blainville was evidently exerting an undue influence over the Queen, and sometimes outwitted the most correct arrangements of Sir John Finet. Once, on the removal of the Court, and the Queen staying behind, the Marquis's train of coaches and attendants having also set off, and all being prepared for the Marquis's stepping into his own carriage, at this instant he called for the Master of the Ceremonies, to confide to him the important secret, that he should stay behind-" pour se purger, as he professed,"-a stratagem for his greater freedom of access to the Queen! His mysterious intercourse became evident; and, one day, when the King was going to Parliament, a difference arising between Charles and the Queen about the place where she was to stand, De Blainville was discovered to have occasioned her Majesty's obstinacy. From that moment the ambassador was forbidden any further access to their Majesties. The Frenchman stormed, and required an audience; Charles replied, that, "If he demanded an au lience for any business of the King his master, it should be readily granted; but, if it was to expost late about his own grievances, his Majesty refused to see him." The ambassador replied, that he was here for the King his master, and not for himself; the audience, therefore, referred to the person' represented, and not to the representative. On the following day, despatching couriers, and refusing the King's diet, he prepared for his departure. His impe rious conduct had often excited the indignation of the mob: the ambassador was assaulted in his house; and the Master of the Ceremonies notes down, that "the Marquis de Blainville was reputed to be the main bontefeu of our war with France." He has made a lamentable entry in his diary: The Marquis, after all the vaunts of his own great means, seemed to prefer his ill-humour; for he left the King's officers and servants, (myself in particular, after my so long and painful attendance,) ill satisfied with his none at all, or most unworthy, acknowledgments." By the marriage contract, Henrietta was to be allowed a household establishment composed of her own people. As this arrangement was made during the life of James, it was limited to one hundred and twenty persons, in her state as a Princess of Wales. The French afterwards pleaded for an increased establishment for her rank as the Queen of England. Thus they gradually contrived to form nothing less than a small French colony, and, by a private account, it is said to have branched out, with their connexions, to about four hundred persons. This French party was forming a little republic within themselves; a political faction among them was furnishing intelligence to their own ambassadors, and spreading rumours in an intercourse with the English malcontents; while the French domestics, engaged in lower intrigues, were lending their names to hire houses in the suburbs, where, under their protection, the English Catholics found a secure retreat to hold their illegal assemblies, and where the youth of both sexes were educated and prepared to be sent abroad to Catholic seminaries. The Queen's palace was converted into a place of security for the persons and papers of every fugitive. 'They had not long resided here, ere the mutual jealousies between the two nations broke out. All the English who were not Catholics were soon dismissed from their attendance on the Queen, by herself; while Charles was impelled, by the popular cry, to forbid British Catholics serving the Queen, or even to be present at the celebration of her mass. Pursuivants would stand at the door of the Queen's chapel to seize on any of the English who entered, while, on these occasions, the French would draw their swords to defend the concealed Romanists. "The Queen and Hers" became an odious distinction with the people; and, what seems not improbable, the Papists, presuming on the protection which the late marriage seemed to afford them, frequently passed through the churches during divine service, hooting and hallooing." A Papist Lord, when the King was at chapel, is accused "of prating on purpose louder when the chaplain prayed," till the King sent his message, "Either let him come and do as we do, or else I will make him prate farther off." Such were the indecent scenes exhibited in public; in private, they were, of course, less reserved. Those who have pourtrayed the Queen as displaying an ascendancy over the political conduct of Charles the First, must at least acknowledge that she had not become a politician by any previous studies, or any disposition towards deep councils. Henrietta first conducted herself as might have been rather expected, than excused, in an inconsiderate Princess of sixteen, and exhausted her genius and her temper in the frivol. ous interests of her bed-chamber-ladies and her household appointments.'-Pp. 199-208. Our concluding extract gives a curious account of a celebrated character who flourished in the reign of Charles; and, as it has an interest different to that of the former passages, we prefer it to others of the same kind as those already inserted: Sir Fulke Greville, now become Lord Brooke, founded an Historical Lectu e at Cambridge, endowing it with no penurious salary for that day-one hundred pounds per annum. Why an Englishman was not found worthy of the professorship has not been told. The founder invited the learned Vossins of Leyden to fill this chair; but the States of Holland having at that moment augmented his pension, Vossius recommended to his Lordship, Dr. Dorislaus, an excellent scholar and a Doctor in civil law. 'The learned Hollander, so early as in 1628, was sent down to Cambridge by Lord Brooke, with the King's letters to the Vice-Chancellor, and the heads of colleges, who immediately complied with the design of the noble institutor of this new professorship. 'Dr. Dorislans delivered two or three lectures on Tacitus, but he had not yet gone beyond the first words, Urbem Romanam primo Reges habuere, when he discovered that he was addressing critical ears. He disserted on the change of government in Rome from Kings to Consuls, by the suggestion of Junius Brutus; he dwelt on the power of the people; and touching on the excesses of Tarquin, who had violated the popular freedom which the people had enjoyed under his predecessors, he launched out in vindication of his own country in wresting their liberties from the tyranny of the Spanish monarchs. "There was a tone of democracy in the lectures of the Dutchman, a spirit of republican fierceness to which the heads of houses had not yet been accustomed ; and though the Doctor had particularly excepted such monarchies as those of England, where he said "the people had surrendered their rights to the King, so that in truth there could be no just exception taken against the sovereign," yet the Master of Peter-house, quick at analogies, and critical at deductions, communicating with the Master of Christ College and the Vice-Chancellor, a murmur rose which reached London, and at length the King's ear, of the tendency of these republican doctrines. Dr. Dorislaus at first offered to clear himself before the heads of houses; he proposed to dispatch letters to his patron, and other eminent personages, to explain his opinions, but at length resolving to address himself personally to Lord Brooke, he suddenly suppressed these letters, observing, that "he would see an accuser, before he replied to an accusation." 'What occurred at Court is obscure. The Bishop of Winchester, in his Majesty's name, suspended our history-lecturer; but shortly after, the suspension was annulled, and the Doctor allowed to return to his chair. Fuller, who alludes to this transaction, tell us, that "Doristaus was accused to the King, troubled at Court, and after his submission hardly restored to his place. His first patron, however, who differed in his political sentiments from his successor, the republican Lord Brooke, in a letter to the Doctor requested that he would retire to his own country, assuring him, however, of his stipend during life. Lord Brooke, shortly after this generous offer, was assassinated by his servant. 'The Doctor, it is certain, never contemplated returning to his republic, and it is suspected that he had his reasons. This scholar and adventurer was a fair conditioned man," as indeed appears by his portrait. He married an Englishwoman, was established a Professor at Gresham College-and this foreigner, whom Fuller describes as "a Dutchman very anglicised in language and behaviour," became a very important personage in the great Revolution of the land of his adoption. "A history of this Dutch Doctor of Civil Laws, and Republican, would furnish a subject of considerable interest in our own political history. Although we have not hitherto been enabled to trace the private life of this remarkable character, for the long interval of twenty years, in which he was settled in this country; yet it is quite evident, that during this period he cultivated an intimate intercourse with the English Republicans of that day; for he became their chief counsellor, a participator in their usurpations, and acted in a high station in the Commonwealth. His death was not less political than his life. The first patron of Dr. Dorislaus, Fulke Greville, afterwards Lord Brooke, was succeeded in his title by his cousin, Robert Greville, whom he had adopted as his son. The young Lord was then scarcely of age, and the republican sentiments of the second Lord Brooke, imbibed by the generous temper of youth, were so opposite to the monarchical character of the first Lord, that we have no difficulty in discovering his tutor in his own historical lecturer of Cambridge. In the dreams of his soul, lofty views of human nature broke forth, and in a romantic passion of patriotism and misanthropy, he had planned, with another discontented noble Lord, Say and Sele, to fly to the forests of New England, to enjoy that delusive freedom which he conceived that he had lost in the Old. 'Whether Dr. Dorislaus would have accompanied his pupil, and have forsaken the Academy of Gresham for an American savannah, may be doubted. The Doctor had abandoned his own Republic for a more comforting abode in a Monarchy. The founders of sects are often very different in their views and temperaments to their proselytes. A cool head has often inflamed hot ones, as water feeds fire. Lord Brooke's motives were the purest which human nature can experience, yet such a secession from our father-land may be condemned as betraying more sullenness than patriotism. 'It was this Lord Brooke who afterwards sided with the Parliament, and whose extraordinary prayer, on the day of his death, at the storming of the church-close at Litchfield, has been adduced by those who presume to explore into the secret ways of Providence, as a demonstration of what they are pleased to term particular providences, or judgments, while the opposite party, who do not object to these divine catastrophes whenever they happen to their enemies, never recognise one in the fate of their friends; thus it happens that the man whom one party considers as the object of divine vengeance, is exalted by the other into the beatitude of a saint. It would have been more reasonable to have remarked, that this very prayer, from the pure and noble mind of Lord Brooke, perhaps argued some painful doubts about the cause which he had expoused, and for which he was to die. 'If we consider the intimacy which this Lord Brooke must necessarily have cherished with the historical Professor placed on the foundation of his relative, and the whole tenor of his Lordship's actions, from his early days, it will be evident that this noble enthusiast was the political pupil of his republican Professor of Civil Law. 'When the rebellion of the revolution broke out, our speculative philosopher, Doctor Dorislaus, became a practical politician. The notions of government which he maintained well suited that base minority, who, in those unhappy days, triumphed over the monarchy and the aristocracy of England, and an indissoluble bond of political connection was formed between Dorislaus and the popular chiefs. The Dutch Doctor of Civil Law became their learned Counsellor, and their resolute agent, and the political adventurer received the gratitude of the co-partners and the profits of the copartnership. We discover Doctor Dorislaus as the Judge Advocate in Essex's army; we find Doctor Dorislaus presiding as one of the Judges of the Admiralty; we behold the republican foreigner standing between the Attorney and the Solicitor Generals at the trial of the King of England; and when his ability had served the English Commonwealth so zealously at home, we see him commissioned by his friends in power to return to his native land, as their representative-the ambassador of England! 'There, when scarcely arrived, and in a manner the most unexpected, the Doctor terminated his career. His character was too flagrant not to attract the notice and indignation of the English emigrants. Some Cavaliers, maddened by loyalty and passion, who knew how actively Dorislaus had occupied himself in forwarding the unparalleled catastrophe which the world had witnessed, avenged the murder of their sovereign by an unpardonable crime-the crime of assassination. Á party rushed into his apartment while he was at supper, and dispatched the ambassador of the new Common ealth. This foreigner must have obtained an ascendancy in the Government not yet entirely discovered, and had been most intimately consulted on the events of the times, and more particularly in the conduct of the most criminal of the acts of the men in power. "This appeared by the predominant party decreeing him a public funeral, attended by the Council of State, the Judges, and the whole Parliament. Eve.yn has chronicled this public funeral for " the villain who managed the trial against the King." It has been urged in favour of Dorislaus, that he did not speak at the trial of the King. It is probable that this foreigner might not have acquired all the fluency of forensic elocution, necessary to address those who were called the English people, on an occasion so tremendously solemn. Those, moreover, who had been forced up into supreme power, might also have still retained some slight remains of decorum, and scarcely have desired that a stranger, with a foreign accent, should plead for the English people against their Sovereign. But was Dorislaus less active because he was mute? As a civilian, he was most competent to draw up the indictment, such as it was; and he acted so important a part in the trial itself, that in the print we may observe this Dutch Doctor standing between the Commonwealth's Counsel, Cooke and Aske. Such is the story of Doctor Dorislaus, a foreigner, who was more busied in our history than appears by the pages of our historians. The concealed design of his historical lectures, when the professorship was first founded at Cambridge, seemed doubtful to many, but less so to discerning judgments. The whole tenor of the professor's life must now remove all doubts. Dr. Dorislaus was a political adventurer, a Republican by birth and principle, the native of a land where, in the youthhood of the Republic, a nation's independence had broke forth; there was no small town, scarcely an obscure spot, which did not commemorate some stratagem of war, some night assault, some voJuntary immolation, or which bore not the vestige of some glorious deed. There the siege had famished the city; there the dyke, broken by the patriot's hand, had inundated his own province. The whole face of the country was covered with associations of unconquered patriotism. 'Dorislaus had willingly deserted this popular freedom and poverty to endure the servitude of monarchy in ease and competence. The Dutch Republican consented to join the English people, to adopt his own expressions, in "surrendering their rights to their Sovereign." Perhaps he afterwards deemed that "the majesty of the people" retained the power of revoking their grant. His Roman intrepidity, if our lecturer on the seven Kings of Rome ever possessed it, was now lurking among intriguers, and his republican pride at length was sharing in the common spoil. 'Such is the picture of a Republican whose name appears in our history, and who acted a remarkable part in it, but who has not hitherto received the notice which he claims.'—Vol. ii., pp. 335-344. The two volumes now before the reader are only a part of Mr. D'Israeli's work, and terminate with the third Parliament. We trust the author will be able to conclude his undertaking as successfully as he has commenced it. BOTTA'S HISTORY OF ITALY. History of Italy during the Consulate and Empire of Napoleon Buonaparte; translated from the Italian of Carlo Botta. By the Author of The Life of Joanna, Queen of Naples.' 2 vols. 8vo. Baldwin and Cradock. London, 1828. THE Italian History of Carlo Botta is already well known on the Continent; and it is one which, through the medium of a translation, is likely to prove very acceptable to a large class of English readers. It is written in a style attractive for its ease and occasional elegance, is full of amusing incident and anecdote, and contains several descriptions of scenes characteristic of war, under the most terrible shapes it can as sume. With these attractions, however, for the general reader, it is not adapted to obtain the approbation of the more thoughtful class of students, or those who look at history as the associate of philosophy. The annalist of modern Italy wants both energy and boldness of comprehension; and, while the events he relates, seem to inspire him with an enthusiasm for description or narrative, he appears to trifle with the reasonings which properly belong to the subject. But, though this is the case, and the value of his writings is consequently much less than it would be, had they been composed by a deeper, and, perhaps we may say, correcter thinker, it is to be borne in mind, that an historian may be very superficial, or even mistaken, in his opinions or arguments with regard to the theoretical views of his narrative, and yet be a very useful, as well as interesting, writer. In this manner ought the present work of Carlo Botta to be considered. In the inferences he draws from, and in the sentiments he grafts upon, his details, he is not often to be regarded as a safe guide, or as writing with the dignity of an historian: but his Memoirs afford, in the main, a good view of the period to which they relate; and, as the author was personally engaged in several of the events he describes, the information they contain has an additional claim to attention. Botta's original work contains twenty-seven He again became a member of the Piedmontese Government, when the success of the French enabled him to return to Italy; but he appears to have been pursued, by all the wits of the country, with the most biting sarcasmns and abuse. In 1802, when Piedmont was annexed to France, he was made a member of the Legislative Council, and, subsequently, the Vice-president. During his enjoyment of this post, he wrote a History of America. No change of sovereigns appears to have much affected him; for, in 1814, he went to France, and was patronised by Louis XVIII. When Buonaparte again appeared, for a short time, on the stage, Botta also again became his partisan. The consequence of this was a loss of the office which Louis had conferred upon him; but, whether his vacillation and want of firmness rendered him insignificant, or his eloquence was sufficient to justify his conduct, he was suffered to continue in Paris unmolested. He is there still, and is at present employed in writing a continuation of Guicciardini. The slightest notice we think of such a life as this is sufficient to take away any confidence in the opinions of the man; not so, however, with regard to his narrative: and we shall, therefore, select our extracts more with respect to their amusing and descriptive character than any other. We take our first from the account of the siege of Genoa, at the period just after the last unsuccessful sortie of Massena: those of noble birth, who were alike seen to feed on what was most loathsome in the morning, ate of the most delicate confections in the evening. That the sight of extreme misery does not correct iniquity in the evil-disposed, Genoa, in her utmost distress, afforded an example but too horrible; for some, devoid of every of gain, used chalk in the eatables they sold, instead of feeling of humanity, and actuated only by the vile spirit flour, of which not a few of the consumers died, suffering under the agonies caused at once by hunger and by the deleterious compound. 'During the siege, yet before the last extremities arrived, a pound of rice was sold for seven lire; a pound of veal for four; a pound of horse flesh for thirty-two soldi; a pound of flour for ten or twelve lire; eggs at fourteen lire the dozen; bran at thirty soldi the pound. Before all was over, a bean was sold for two soldi, and a biscuit of three ounces weight for twelve francs, and none were at last to be had. Neither Massena, nor the other generals, would allow themsel es greater indulgences than private individuals; they fared like the plebeians;—a laudable instance of self-denial, and highly efficacious in enabling others to bear up against their privations. A little cheese and a few vegetables was the only nourishment given to the sick and wounded in the hospitals. Men and women, in the last agonies of starvation and despair, filled the air with their groans and shrieks. Sometimes, while uttering these dreadful cries, they strove with furious dead in the streets. No one relieved them, for no one hands to tear out their agonised intestines, and fell thought but of himself; no one heeded them, for the frequency of the circumstance had made it cease to seem horrible. Some in spasms and convulsions and contorsions groaned out their last amidst crowds of the populace. Children, left by the death or despair of their parents in utter destitution, with mournful gestures, and tears, and heart-broken accents, implored the pity of the passing stranger; but none either pitied them, or aided them; the excess of his own sufferings extinguishing in each man's breast compassion for the misery of others. These innocent deserted beings eagerly searched in the gutters of the streets, in the common sewers, in the drainings of the 'When this deficiency was first dreaded, food was dealt out in scanty portions; it was then adulterated; and, finally, every thing most disgusting was devoured-washing-houses, for a chance morsel of some dead not only horses and dogs, but even cats, mice, bats, and worms; and happy was he who could obtain these. The Austrians had taken the mills of Bisagno, Voltri, and Pegli, and none were left to prepare the corn. This was remedied, for a time, by using hand-mills, chiefly coffee-mills. The Academy was employed to devise better ones; and they invented springs, and wheels, and mills of novel construction, with some of the largest of which, one man could grind a bushel a day. In every street, in every shop, these machines were seen continually at work; in private houses-in familiar parties, every one was grinding: the ladies made it their pastime; but within a short time there was no more corn left to grind. When grain failed, other seeds were sought to supply its place: flax-seed, millet, cocoa, and almonds, were first put in requisition, for of rice or barley there was none; and these substitutes were roasted, mixed with honey, and baked, and were considered a delicacy. Parents and friends rejoiced with him who could, for an additional day, support himself and his family with flax-seed, millet, or a few grains of ment, was also ground, and, when baked with honey, cocoa; even bran, a substance affording no nourishwas eaten, not to satisfy, but to deaden hunger; beans were most precious. Happy were now, not those who lived, but those who died! The day was sad from hunger, and the lamentations of the famishing; the night was sadder still from hunger, accompanied by delirious fancies. When every kind of seed had been exhausted, recourse was next had to horbs; monk's rhubarb, sorrel, animal, or any remains of the food of beasts, which, when found, was greedily devoured. Many who lay down alive in the evening, were found dead in their beds in the morning, and children more frequently than adults: fathers accused the tardiness of death, and some hastened its approach by the violence of their own hands-citizens and soldiers alike. Some of the French, preferring death to the anguish of hunger, destroyed themselves; others disdainfully flung down those arms which they had no longer strength to carry; and others, abandoning a habitation of despair, sought, in the camp of the enemy, English or Austrian, that food and that pity which were no longer to be found amidst the French and Genoese. But cruel and horrible beyond all description was the spectacle presented by the German prisoners of war, confined in certain old barges anchored in the port; for such was the dire necessity at last, that for some days they were left without nutriment of any description. They eat their shoes, they devoured the leather of their pouches, and, scowling darkly on each other, their sinister glances betrayed the horrid fear of being at last reduced to a more fearful resource. In the end, their French guards were removed, under the apprehension that they might be made the sacrifice of ravening hunger: so great, at last, was their desperation, that they endeavoured to pierce holes in the barges in order to sink them, preferring to perish thus, rather than any longer endure the tortures of hunger. As commonly happens, a mortal pestilence was added to the horrors of famine: books, and commences with the reign of Leopold mallows, wild succory, rampions, were diligently sought the worst kinds of fevers carried off crowds from the in Tuscany, and is carried on through the different periods of the French Revolution, the translation now before us comprehending the history of Italy only from 1799 to 1814. Before opening these volumes to our readers, we may mention that Botta is a native of Piedmont, and by profession a physician. During the troubles in Italy, he suffered a variety of fortunes, in his conduct under which he seems to have materially hazarded the respect and friendship of all his associates. Having taken refuge in Lombardy, in 1798, he was employed, by the French, as physician of the forces, and sent to Corfu. He afterwards returned to Italy, and was put into the Provisional Government by Joubert; but he was soon after obliged to take refuge in France from Suwarrow for, and as readily eaten as if they had been pleasing ladies of noble birth, as well as plebeians, were seen exto the palate. Long files of people, men of every rank, amining every verdant site, particularly the fertile orchards of Bisagno, and the delightful hills of Albano, to dig out of them those aliments which nature has destined solely for the ruminating beasts. For a time sugar was used: rose, violet, and candied sugar, and every kind of confection were in general use. The retailers, men and women, sold them in public, in elegant little baskets adorned with flowers and garlands-a strange sight in the midst of all these pallid, emaciated, and cadaverous faces; yet thus powerful is the imagina tion of man, pleasing itself in embellishing that which, in its own nature, is most lamentable and terrible-a merciful dispensation of Providence, who wills not man's despair. But enough :-women of plebeian, as well as public hospitals, the lowly hovels of the poor, and the superb palaces of the rich. Under the same roof, death might be seen in different shapes: one died maddened by hunger, another stupified by fever; some pallid from extenuation, others livid with febrile spots. Every thing brought grief-every thing fear; for he who was still living awaited either his own death, or that of his nearest friends. Such was the state of the once rich and joyous Genoa ; and the bitterest thought nothing to future good, either as to her liberty or her of all was, that her present sufferings could conduce independence. "The fortitude of all was exhausted. Massena alone retained his firmness, because his mind was bent on aiding the enterprise of the Consul, and on preserving intact his reputation as an unconquered commander but, at last, when honourable conditions were offered by Keith, he brought down his spirit to a composition, since even the loathsome and poisonous food Genoa was reduced to, cou'd not last for more than two days longer. Yet, still, his tone was rather that of a successful than of a defeated General; he insisted on the cession being called a convention, not a capitulation; which the allies were forced to grant. Massena and his troops, about eight thousand in number, were to leave Genoa, unrestricted by any conditions, either as to their persons or their allegiance. They were free to return to France by land; and those who could not accomplish this march, were to be carried by the English ships to Antibes, or the Gulf of Juan. The German prisoners were given up. No inquisition was to be made as to the past, and those who wished to abandon Genoa were at liberty so to do; the allies were to furnish provisions, and take care of the sick; and, on the 4th of June, the city was to be delivered up to the Austrian and English forces. On the appointed day, accordingly, the first took possession of the gate of the lantern; the second of the mouth of the port. Then Otto entered in triumph with his army, Keith with his fleet; but the prize thus obtained by a tedious war of detail, was speedily wrested from them by a brief and vigorous campaign. The most ardent democrats went away with the French; amongst others, Morandi, the Abbate Cuneo, the advocate Lombardi, and the brothers Boccardi. The bells were rung as for a festival, hymns were sung, and, if bonfires were lighted by the partisans of the Austrians from affection, more were lighted by their enemies from fear. Every thing seemed to be as usual: bread, meat, vegetables, and provisions of all kinds re-appeared in abundance, and those who abandoned themselves without restraint to the first impulse of appetite, died in consequence. Thus many, who had not been destroyed by long inanition, were killed by satiety. The retailers and venders, excited by the greediness of gain, strove to keep up the prices; but the infuriate populace fell on them in such a manner, as made them feel that hunger is a fierce counsellor. The peasants, under Azzerctto, endeavoured to sack the houses of the democrats, as they said, but, nevertheless, did not spare the aristocrats. But Hohenzollern, who had been left by Otto in command, restrained these excesses by military law. The Austrian commander created an imperial and royal regency, to which he called Pietro Paolo Celesia, Carlo Cambiaso, Agostino Spinola, Gian Bernardo Pallavicini, Girolamo Durazzo, Francisco Spinola di Gian Battista, and Luigi Lambruschini. The regency restrained the reaction of party vengeance ready to burst forth, by a laudable exertion of authority; but then came the opening of purses, an inevitable but cruel command in miserable Genoa. As for the rest, no sign was shown on the part of Hohenzolle n, or of Melas, of any inclination, either towards the restoration of her ancient government, or her independence. Notwithstanding this, the aristocrats shouted vivas for the Emperor, from hatred against the democrats, just as the democrats had sent forth vivas for France, from hatred to the aristocrats ;-blind slaves and madmen, both the one and the other; for they could not see, that from their private animosities sprang the ruin of their country, and the domination of foreigners.-Vol. i., pp. 51-61. Our next extract gives a lively description of Napoleon's coronation at Milan. It is so mixed up with several of Signor Botta's remarks on the event, that it is altogether an excellent specimen of his general style and observations : The solemn entry of Napoleon into Milan was magnificent: he entered the city by the gate of Ticino, which had been called the gate of Marengo. The Municipality presented him with the keys on a basin of goid. These," they said, were the keys of the faithful Milan; the hearts of its people he had long possessed." In reply, he requested them to retain the keys, saying, that "he confided in the affection of the Milanese, and that they might confide in the assurance of his." This ceremony over, an immense concourse of people, rending the air with shouts of joy, followed him to the cathedral, where Cardinal Caprara, the archbishop, met him on the threshold, and there vowed respect, fidelity, obedience, and submission; prayed for the preservation of so great a sovereign, and besought St. Ambrose and St. Charles, the glorious protectors of the superb city, to bestow on him and all his family perfect health and perennial joy. The ceremonies in the cathedral being ended, the Ducal palace, ornamented for a festival, and, proud of the honour bestowed on it, received the new king. As it was generally known that Napoleon had gone to Milan to assume the crown, deputations from the Italian cities and from foreign states were sent thither to meet him. Amongst others, Lucchesini, the bearer of Prussian orders and the agent of Prussian intrigues, brought to Napoleon, on the part of Frederick, the black and the red eagle, with which the new-made Emperor decked himself out, and showed himself to his soldiers. This was done to wound Austria; because at this time Frederick, in compliance with the advice of Lucchesini and Haugwitz, had resolved, with what prudence and success the appalled world has seen, to second in every thing, and for every purpose, the designs of Napoleon. Cetto was sent by Bavaria; Beust, by the arch-chancery of the German Empire; Alberg, by Baden; Benvenuti Bali, by the order of Malta; the Landemann Augusturi, by the mountainous Valais; the Prince of Masserano, by swarthy Spain; and by Lucca, Cotenna and Belluomini; while Tuscany sent a noble Corsini and a Vittorio Fossombroni. All came to honour and salute a potent and dreaded master. 'The deputies of the Ligurian republic had business of a more serious nature to transact. The Genoese senate had sent the Doge, Durazzo, Cardinal Spina, the archbishop Carbonara, and the senators, Roggieri, Maghella, Fravega, Balbi, Maglione, Delarue, and Scassi, to whom the greatest caresses and the highest honours were paid. The minister, Marescalchi, and Cardinal Caprara, did all they could to entertain them with banquets, and to honour them with audiences and compliments; nor was less courteousness displayed by the ministers of France. On every occasion, the Doge was called "His Serene Highness," and the senators "Their Excellencies." Their master himself always smiled graciously on them, and spoke much at large and in mellifluous words to them: in short, amidst the general festivity, the Ligurian deputies certainly had not the minor portion. Those who did not understand the disposition of Napoleon, arguing from the favour they were in, called the Ligurians the happiest of people, and anticipated the brightest destiny for the little republic; but those who knew him suspected some hidden design and anticipated some shameful deceit. The Ligurian deputies themselves, those at least who were not concerned in the intrigue, (for some of them were implicated in it,) marvelled at being so caressed and honoured, and their minds were, therefore, not entirely free from fear. Admitted to an audience with the sovereign, they saw him serene and cheerful, congratulated him on his imperial dignity, and besought him to restore the commerce of his beloved Liguria. To this he replied, courteously, that he was aware of the affection of the Ligurians, which had always succoured the armies of France in times of difficulty; nor were their distresses unnoticed or unheeded by him. He assured them that he would wield his sword in their defence; that he was certain of the good-will of the Doge; and that he saw both him and the senators with pleasure. He would go to Genoa, and proceed thither without guards, as amongst friends. After this audience, they were received and caressed by the Empress and the Princess Eliza, the sister of Napoleon, married to Bacciocchi, who had recently been created a Prince. Every one, in short, showed fair seeming to the Ligurian deputies at the Court of Napoleon. The iron crown having been brought to Milan with much solemnity and pomp, the preparations for the coronation were commenced; which ceremony was performed on Sunday, the 26th of May, a day on shone brilliantly, as if in honour of the new sovereign. which the weather was auspiciously fine, and the sun The Empress Josephine and the Princess Eliza preceded the Emperor, arrayed in gorgeous robes. Both were resplendent with diamonds-ornaments which, in Italy, they ought to have displayed less than in any other country. Napoleon followed, wearing the Imperial crown, and carrying the Regal crown, the sceptre, and the hand of justice. He was clad in the regal mantle, the train of which was supported by the two grand equeries; a pompous train of ushers, heralds, pages, aides-de-camp, masters of the ceremonies, ordinary and extraordinary, chamberlains and equerries, accompanied him, and seven ladies, splendidly dressed, carried the offerings. Immediately after them, followed the great officers of France and Italy, and the presidents of the three electoral colleges of the kingdom, bearing the regalia of Charlemagne, of Italy, and of the Empire; while ministers, councillors, and generals, increased the splendour of the assemblage, And now came Cardinal Caprara, accompanied by his clergy, with the canopy of state, who, with a countenance of deep respect, conducted the Sovereign to the sanctuary. I know not if any one remembered at this moment, that it was from this same temple that St. Ambrose had repulsed Theodosius, when stained with the blood of the Thessalonians. But modern prelates were not so particular in their scrutiny of Napoleon's life. The Emperor seated himself on the throne, and the Cardinal blessed the regal ornaments: the former then ascended to the altar, took the crown, and placed it on his head, uttering those words which excited the wonder of his flatterers-that is, of an entire generation: "God has given it to me; woe to him who touches it." At this instant, the sacred vaults resounded with universal shouts of joy. Thus crowned, he seated himself on a throne at the other end of the nave, while ministers, courtiers, magistrates, and generals, stood around him. But the most beautiful spectacle was formed by the ladies, who were seated in ornamented galleries. On a bench to the right sat Eugene, the Viceroy, Napoleon's adopted son. On him the smiles of the assembly were freely bestowed, knowing that he was to remain with them to exercise the supreme authority. To the Doge and the Genoese Senators was assigned a place of peculiar honour in the Imperial gallery, and with them were forty beautiful women, magnificently attired. A splendid gallery, too, was set apart for Josephine and Eliza: the arches, the walls, the pillars, were covered with the richest hangings, with festoons of silk and draperies, bordered with fringes of gold. The whole formed a grand, a magnificent, and wonderful scene, truly worthy of the superb Milan high mass was sung; Napoleon took the oaths, and the heralds loudly proclaimed his accession in these words, Napoleon the First, Emperor of the French, and King of Italy, is crowned, consecrated, and enthroned. Long live the Emperor and King!" The last words were repeated three times by the assembly, with the most lively acclamations. By these pomps, and those of which Paris had been the scene, Napoleon contaminated all the glory he had won in Italy; for whoever, whether it be in peace or in war, labours solely for himself and not for bis country, and ungenerously purposes to enslave her and bind her neck to the yoke, by means of the services he renders her, will not fail in the end to experience the retribution both of man and God. Such actions are iniquitous, not glorious; and, if they did please the age, the age itself was vile. When the coronation was over, the magnificent train proceeded to sing the Ambrosian hymn, in the Ambrosian church. In the evening, Milan was the scene of one great festival; immense bonfires were lighted, innumerable races were contested, and a balloon was sent up to the sky. On every side resounded songs and music; every where were balls and revels. All these pomps seemed to indicate security and durability, and already the authorities reposed to their satisfaction in their seats.'—Vol. i. 305-313. : GERMAN LYRIC POETS. Specimens of the German Lyric Poets. Post 8vo. pp. 110. 4s. 6d. Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green. London, 1828. THE author of these translations from the German poets, has made his selection with considerable taste, and his version is equally distinguished for ability and clearness. We have met with very few volumes of minor poems more deserving of praise, either for the intrinsic beauty of their contents, or the unassuming manner in which they are sent before the public. The German scholar of his most favourite pieces, and the mere Engwill recognise in the specimens it contains many lish reader cannot fail to be delighted with the originality of style belonging to the translation of these exquisite little poems. There is not one we would have left out of the selection, and we trust the author will meet with sufficient encouragement to enlarge it considerably on some fuWe select the following: The Ideal.-SCHILLER. And wilt thou faithless from me sever, With all thy sorrows, all thy joys! And piciless depart for ever, ture occasion. * With all thy holy phantasies! To stay life's golden spring for me? The legend of the Crown itself. It derives the name of the Iron Crown from a small ring of iro supposed to be made of a nail of the true Cross, being placed within the gold circlet, which is narrow, and studded with a few dim gems. |