grand. The whole passes in rapid and varied action: character here is altogether subordinate to this:-it is the "pomp and circumstance" that rivet our attention; and the importance of the incidents, the vivacity and glitter of the accompaniments, the associations of the names and places, keep up a powerful and constant effect. The author (as we have said) has not here gone so deeply into the human heart, or illustrated individual habits so richly as in some of his former compositions, but he has seized upon, and arranged, the treasures and ornaments of a remarkable period of history, and reflected them back on observation from the clear mirror of his chivalrous mind. We have the names of Raleigh, and Spenser, and Sidney, and Shakspeare, freely introduced; and the known incidents of their lives are woven into the story, and made the topic of the conversation of the characters, in a very skilful manner,-advantage being taken of the knowledge of the reader to contrast or enliven their sentiments and situations in the romance, with reference to what afterwards occurred to them in the onward current of their fortunes. But although the author was obviously led to avail himself of these celebrated names, and has employed them with his usual dexterity, we much doubt whether, on the whole, the effect of such introductions can be considered as pleasing. The interest of the reality is, in such cases, above that of the fiction; and the latter, therefore, seems to profane the former. The imagination of every reader does more for Shakspeare than the description of any poet can do, even if he were possessed of Shakspeare's genius. The attempt to make him act, and speak, and look as a common mortal, is destructive of his throned majesty in our minds. It is so with all famous authors, and artists, and philosophers: their existence is above the sphere of usual actions; and they ought not, therefore, to be brought corporeally on the scene. There is bad taste, therefore, we think, in the French custom, which has lately spread to Germany, of making their great poets and painters the heroes of their dramas. We remember at Paris seeing Boileau, and Lully, and Racine, on the stage,-and

we thought the actors ought to have been contented with representing kings, ministers, and generals. These latter are the proper classes for the painted show and the story-telling page. They can bear to be wrought upon, and turned to account in this way. They are not made of too refined materials to bear the workman's hand: they do not seem degraded by this usage: their acts and histories suggest nothing so ideal or elevated to the fancy, that a clever author need despair of even over-topping their memories.

Anthony Foster is the keeper, or rather jailer, of the unfortunate lady at Cumnor-place. This fellow, before the accession of the "Occidental Star," had been a fierce papist, and nicknamed Tony Fire-the-faggot, “because he brought a light, to kindle the pile round Latimer and Ridley, when the wind blew out Jack Thong's torch, and no man else would give him light, for love or money.' With the change of the established religion, Anthony fell into the "pure precision" doctrines, and was now "as good a protestant as the best."

"And looks grave, and holds his head high, and scorns his old companions," said

the mercer.

cer.

"That I have, old boy," said the mer

"Look you, I was riding hither from Abingdon I passed under the east oriel window of the old mansion, where all the old saints and histories and such like are painted-It was not the common path I took, but one through the park; for the postern-door was upon the latch, and I thought I might take the privilege of an old comrade to ride across through the trees, both for shading, as the day was somewhat hot, and for avoiding of dust, because I had on my peach-coloured doublet, pinked out with cloth of gold."

"Which garment," said Michael Lambourne, "thou would'st willingly make twinkle in the eyes of a fair dame. Ah! villain, thou wilt never leave thy old tricks."

"Not so not so," said the mercer, with a smirking laugh; "not altogether so but curiosity,th ou knowest, and a strain of compassion withal,-for the poor young lady sees nothing from morn to even but Tony Foster, with his scowling black brows, his bull's head, and his bandy legs."

"And thou would'st willingly shew her a dapper body, in a silken jerkin-a limb like a short-legged hen's, in a cordovan boot, and a round, simpering, what d'ye lack, sort of a countenance, set off with a velvet bonnet, a Turkey feather, and a gilded brooch. Ah! jolly mercer, they who have good wares are fond to shew them.-Come, gentles, let not the cup stand here's to long spurs, short boots, full bonnets, and empty skulls ! "

66

Nay, now, you are jealous of me, Mike," said Goldthred; and yet my luck was but what might have happened to thee, or any man."

desert," answered Master Goldthred ; "but since I give you pleasure, worthy Master Tressilian, I shall proceed, maugre all the jibes and quips of this valiant soldier, who, peradventure, hath had more cuffs than crowns in the Low Countries.-And so, sir, as I passed under the great painted window, leaving my rein loose on my ambling palfrey's neck, partly for mine ease and partly that I might have the more leisure to peer about, I hears me the lattice open; and never credit me, sir, if there did not stand there the person of as fair a woman as ever crossed mine eyes, and I think 1 have looked on as many pretty wenches, and with as much judgment, as other folks."

"May I ask her appearance, sir ?" said Tressilian.

"O sir,” replied Master Goldthred, “I promise you, she was in gentlewoman's attire a very quaint and pleasing dress, that might have served the Queen herself; for she had a forepart with body and sleeves, of ginger-coloured satin, which, in my judgment, must have cost by the yard some thirty shillings, lined with murrey taffeta, and laid down and guarded with two broad laces of gold and silver. And her hat, sir, was truly the best-fashioned thing that I have seen in these parts, being of tawney taffeta, embroidered with scorpions of Venice gold, and having a border garnished with gold fringe ;-I promise you, sir, an absolute and all surpassing device. Touching her skirts, they were in the old pass-devant fashion."

"I did not ask you of her attire, sir," said Tressilian, who had shewn some impatience during this conversation, "but of her complexion-the colour of her hair, her features."

"Touching her complexion," answered the mercer, "I am not so special certain; but I marked that her fan had an ivory handle, curiously inlaid ;—and then again, as to the colour of her hair, why, I can warrant, be its hue what it might, that she wore above it a net of green silk, parcel twisted with gold."

"A most mercer-like memory," said Lambourne; "the gentleman asks him of the lady's beauty, and he talks of her fine clothes!"

"I tell thee," said the mercer, somewhat disconcerted, "I had little time to look at her; for just as I was about to give her the good time of day, and for that purpose had puckered my features with a smile".

"Like those of a jackanape, simpering at a chesnut," said Michael Lambourne.

"-Upstarted of a sudden," continued Goldthred, without heeding the interruption, "Tony Foster himself, with a cudgel in his hand "

"And broke thy head acress, I hope,

"Now, out upon thee for a faint-spirited slave!" said Lambourne; "what adventurous knight ever thought of the lady's terror, when he went to thwack giant, dragon, or magician, in her presence, and for her deliverance? But why talk to thee of dragons, who would be driven back by a dragon-fly. There thou hast missed the rarest opportunity!"

"Take it thyself, then, bully Mike," answered Goldthred.-" Yonder is the enchanted manor, and the dragon and the lady all at thy service, if thou darest venture on them."

"Why, so I would for a quartern of sack," said the soldier-" Or stay-I am foully out of linen-wilt thou bet a piece of Hollands against these five angels, that I go not up to the Hall to-morrow, and force Tony Foster to introduce me to his fair guest?"

"I accept your wager," said the mercer;" and I think, though thou hadst even the impudence of the devil, I shall gain on thee this bout. Our landlord here shall hold stakes, and I will stake down gold till I send thee linen."

We have given this passage, as affording the reader an insight into the circumstances of the lady's imprisonment, but still more, because of its liveliness, as a specimen of our author's representations of the familiar life of the period. Mike Lambourne, who takes so principal a share in the above dialogue, is an admirably delineated bully and bravo, whose military habits have engendered a reckless courage, to give deadly effect to the vile and mercenary dispositions of the natural scoundrel. All that relates to this

man in the romance is done in our

author's best manner.

Tressilian, agentleman, formerly the suitor of the unfortunate Countess of Leicester, destined for her by her father, and accepted by the lady herself, but forsaken by her for the sake of Leicester, is brought into company with Mike Lambourne, and accompanies him, when the latter sets out

to adventure a visit to Cumnor-Place. Amy Robsart had secretly left her father's house, and her marriage with Leicester was unknown to all her friends, as well as her place of concealment. Their supposition was, that she had fallen a victim to Varney's arts of seduction ;-no one supposing her the wife of Leicester, then closely engaged in paying gallant court to Elizabeth, and spoken of openly in the nation, as not unlikely to receive the hand of the maiden queen.

Varney is the evil genius of the story. He is a personification of the worst qualities of Leicester's character, as history records them, of which our author has, with great skill, constructed a separate individual, for the purpose of leaving the hero of his work in a situation to excite the sympathy of the reader. The crimes that resulted from Leicester's fickleness, falsehood, and greediness, are thus, in the romance, traced to Varney's evil counsels, against which Leicester's amiable resolutions struggle in vain.-Varney's motive is a mixed one, composed of the hatred which the disappointment of a licentious passion has engendered, and the mercenary feeling which led him to endeavour to secure Leicester's favour with Elizabeth.

Tressilian, by accompanying Mike Lambourne to old Anthony Foster's abode, gains a sight of Amy Robsart; and, ignorant of her situation her to return to her father's house. as Countess of Leicester, conjures The lady, stung by pride, in consequence of being unable to explain the secret in which she exulted-vexed and ashamed to see her old and illused lover, and grieved to hear of her father's illness, treats Tressilian with severity; and he appears to have gained nothing by his interview, but a knowledge of her abode.

Amy Robsart is introduced to us, taking a girlish delight in the new and superb fitting-up of four apartments, in which her lord was stolen visits. about to pay her one of his few and In her seclusion he had ordered her to be surrounded with the most costly magnificence.

The sleeping chamber belonging to this splendid suite of apartments, was decorated in a taste less showy, but not less rich, than had been displayed in the others. Two

silver lamps, fed with perfumed oil, diffused at once a delicious odour and a trembling twilight-seeming shimmer through the quiet apartment. It was carpeted so thick, that the heaviest step could not have been heard, and the bed, richly heaped with down, was spread with an ample coverlet of silk and gold; from under which peeped forth cambric sheets, and blankets as white as the lambs which yielded the fleece that made them. The curtains were of blue velvet, lined with crimson silk, deeply festooned with gold, and embroidered with the loves of Cupid and Psyche. On the toilet was a beautiful Venetian mirror, in a frame of silver fillagree, and beside it stood a gold posset-dish to contain the night-draught, A pair of pistols and a dagger, mounted with gold, were displayed near the head of the bed, being the arms for the night, which were presented to honoured guests, rather, it may be supposed, in the way of ceremony, than from any apprehension of danger. We must not omit to mention,

what was more to the credit of the manners of the time, that in a small recess, illuminated by a taper, were disposed two has socks of velvet and gold, corresponding with the bed furniture, before a desk of carved ebony. This recess had formerly been the private oratory of the Abbot, but the crucifix was removed, and instead, there were placed on the desk two Books of Common Prayer, richly bound, and embossed with silver. With this enviable sleeping apartment, which was so far removed from every sound save that of the wind sighing among the oaks of the park, that Morpheus might have coveted it for his own proper repose, corresponded two wardrobes, or dressing-rooms as they are now termed, suitably furnished, and in a style of the same magnificence which we have already described. It ought to be added, that a part of the building in the adjoining wing was occupied by the kitchen and its offices, and served to accommodate the personal attendants of the great and wealthy nobleman, for whose use these magnificent preparations had been made.

Leicester's visit to his wife; the progress of the conspiracy against her, between Varney and Foster; and the admission of Mike Lambourne into the hateful compact, are traced by the author, so as to keep the reader's anxiety perpetually on the increase. Tressilian, in his efforts to have justice done to the daughter of his friend, and one whom he has never ceased to regard with the tenderest and purest love, leads the course of the romance amongst new and most interesting characters. We are thus introduced into Lord Sus

sex's mansion at Say's Court, where that nobleman lies dangerously ill, in consequence of a poison administered to him by an alchemist and potionbrewer, the creature of Varney, whom he employs to destroy his own and his master's enemies, and also to hold Leicester himself in subjugation to the designs of his tempter, by appeals to his horoscope, and making it a witness to the propriety of the conduct, into which the pusillanimous victim was to be betrayed. The whole apparatus and jargon of alchemy and astrology are displayed; and their strength on one side is met by the counteraction of specific drugs, formed of rare and costly ingredients, sought for mysteriously amongst hidden Jew venders,-pale and trembling old men, shaking under the weight of nature's mightiest secrets. -Our author has made as much, and as good, use of these cabala of the particular period, as he did, in a former novel, of the state of the Jewish part of the population. Such things constitute his bye-play,—and it is always excellent.

In Sussex's mansion we find young Raleigh--already looking upwards, like a young eagle from the eiriedallying with the wind, and fixing the sun! His first adventure with Queen Elizabeth is admirably got up; we live the scene, amongst the high foreheads, ruffs, and stateliness of the Elizabethan court. The description of the meeting, and forced reconciliation of the two great rivalsSussex and Leicester in the royal presence chamber,-and much more of similar description to be found in these volumes, stand perfectly alone, and unequalled in our literature,-as specimens of a style which belongs only to our author, and of a mode of com

position which is altogether of his founding, and sufficient of itself to ensure him immortality. The following is a dialogue preceding this scene,-it being too long for us to think of extracting it.

"I am ordered to attend court to-mor

row," said Leicester, speaking to Varney, Sussex. The Queen intends to take up "to meet, as they surmise, my Lord of

matters betwixt us.

This comes of her

visit to Say's Court, of which you must needs speak so lightly."

"I maintain it was nothing," said Varney; nay, I know from a sure intelli

66

gencer, who was within ear-shot of much that was said, that Sussex has lost rather than gained by that visit. The Queen said, when she stepped into the boat, that Say's Court looked like a guard-house, and smelt like an hospital. Like a cook's shop in Ram's Alley rather,' said the Countess of Rutland, who is ever your lordship's good friend. And then my Lord of Lincoln must needs put in his holy oar, and say, that my Lord of Sussex must be excused for his rude and old-world housekeeping, since he had as yet no wife."

And what said the Queen?" said Leicester, hastily.

"She took him up roundly," said Varney, "and asked what my Lord Sussex had to do with a wife, or my Lord Bishop to speak on such a subject. If marriage is permitted, she said, I no where read that it is enjoined."

"She likes not marriages, or speech of marriage, among churchmen," said Lei

cester.

"Not among courtiers neither," said Varney; but, observing that Leicester changed countenance, he instantly added, that all the ladies who were present had joined in ridiculing Lord Sussex's housekeeping, and in contrasting it with the reception her Grace would have assuredly received at my Lord of Leicester's.

"You have gathered much tidings," said Leicester, "but you have forgotten or omitted the most important of all. She hath added another to those dangling satel lites, whom it is her pleasure to keep revolving around her."

"Your lordship meaneth that Raleigh, the Devonshire youth," said Varney, "the Knight of the Cloak, as they call him at the court?"

"He may be Knight of the Garter one day, for aught I know," said Leicester, "for he advances rapidly-She hath cap'd verses with him, and such fooleries. I would gladly abandon, of my own free will, the part I have in her fickle favour, but I will not be elbowed out of it by the clown Sussex, or this new upstart. I hear Tressilian is with Sussex also, and high in his favour-I would spare him for considerations, but he will thrust himself on his fate-Sussex, too, is almost as well as ever in his health."

"My lord," replied Varney, "there will be rubs in the smoothest road, specially when it leads up hill. Sussex's illness was to us a god-send, from which I hoped much. He has recovered indeed, but he is not now more formidable than ere he fell ill, when he received more than one foil in wrestling with your lordship. Let not your heart fail you, my lord, and all shall be well."

66 My heart never failed me, Sir," replied Leicester.

"but it

He that

"No, my lord," said Varney; has betrayed you right often. would climb a tree, my lord, must grasp by the branches, not by the blossom."

"Well, well, well!" said Leicester, impatiently; "I understand thy meaningMy heart shall nether fail me nor seduce me. Have my retinue in order-see that their array be so splendid as to put down not only the rude eompanions of Ratcliffe, but the retainers of every other nobleman and courtier. Let them be well armed withal, but without any outward display of their weapons, wearing them as if more for fashion's sake than for use. Do thou thyself keep close to me, I may have business for you.'

The result of the meeting of the two rivals, in the royal presence, was supposed to be favourable to Leicester.

The whole court considered the issue of this day's audience, expected with so much doubt and anxiety, as a decisive triumph on the part of Leicester, and felt assured that the orb of his rival satellite, if not altogether obscured by his lustre, must revolve hereafter in a dimmer and wore distant sphere. So thought the court and courtiers, from high to low; and they acted accordingly.

On the other hand, never did Leicester return the general greeting with such ready and condescending courtesy, or endeavour more successfully to gather (in the words of one, who at that moment stood at no great distance from him) "golden opinions from all sorts of men."

For all the favourite Earl had a bow, a smile at least, and often a kind word. Most of these were addressed to courtiers, whose names have long gone down the tide of oblivion; but some, to such as sound strangely in our ears, when connected with the ordinary matters of human life, above which the gratitude of posterity has long elevated them. A few of Leicester's interlocutory sentences ran as follows:

"Poynings, good morrow, and how does your wife and fair daughter? Why come they not to court?-Adams, your suit is naught the Queen will grant no more monopolies but I may serve you in another matter. My good Alderman Aylford, the suit of the City, affecting Queenhithe, shall be forwarded as far as my poor interest can serve. Master Edmund Spencer, touching your Irish petition, I would willingly aid you, from my love to the Muses; but thou hast nettled the Lord Treasurer."

"My lord," said the poet, "were I permitted to explain."

"Come to my lodging, Edmund," answered the Earl" not to-morrow, or next day, but soon.-Ha, Will Shakespeare—