"If Much ado about Nothing had been published in those days, the tow clerk's declaration, that receiving a thousand ducats for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully, was flat burglary, might be supposed to be a satire upon this decree; yet Shakspeare, well as he knew human nature, not only as to its general course, but in all its eccentric deviations, could never dream, that, in the persons of Dogberry, Verges, and their followers, he was representing the vice-chancellors and doctors of our learned university." P. 52.

The shameful expulsion of Locke from Christ Church College, Oxford, as it is characteristic of the spirit of the times, is well introduced, and ably commented on. In later times also, we have but too much neglected this immortal Locke, one of the greatest philosophers, and best of men that this or any other age or country ever produced. No monument has yet been raised to his memory. At length, however, the time is come, and we are happy to hear that subscriptions are at the present moment received at the Literary Fund Office, for this just and honourable purpose.

"

The death of Charles II. took place on 6th Feb. 1685, when it was by many supposed to have been the effect of poison; but although there is reason to believe that this suspicion was harboured by persons very near to him, and among others, as I have heard, by the Duchess of Portsmouth, it appears, upon the whole, to rest upon very slender foundations.

"Mr. Fox had this report from the family of his mother, great grand daughter to the Duchess of Portsmouth.-The Duchess of Portsmouth lived to a very advanced age, and retained her faculties to the period of her death, which happened in 1734, at Aubigny. Mr. Fox's mother, when very young, saw her at that place; and many of the Lenox family, with whom Mr. Fox was subsequently acquainted, had, no doubt, frequently conversed with her." P. 61.

The Appendix, amongst many curious documents relating to the correspondence of Louis XIV. and Barillon on English affairs, contains one letter concerning the death of Charles II. which, from its interesting nature, we are tempted in part to translate for the satisfaction of our country friends.

Barillon writes from England to his master, giving him an exact account of the previous circumstances and death of Charles. "Being informed about noon on the 15th of Feb. 1684, that the physicians thought he could not outlive the night, I went soon after

to Whitehall.The Duke of York (afterwards James II.) had gi ven orders that I should be admitted at all times. He was almost constantly in his brother's chamber. When I arrived, the duke said to me -The physicians believe that the king is in extreme danger-I beg you to assure your master that he will always find in me a faithful and grateful servant.

6

"I was in the king's chamber till five o'clock; the Duke of York called me into the chamber several times, and talked to me of what was passing without, and of the assurance given to him from all quarters that every thing was tranquil in the town, and that he should be proclaimed king the moment his brother died. I went to the apartment of the Duchess of Portsmouth, and found her in deep affliction. The physicians had left her without hope; however, instead of speaking to me of her grief, and of the loss she was about to sustain, she passed into a little closet, and said to me, ' Monsieur l'Ambassadeur, sir, I am going to tell you the great est secret in the world, and I shall lose my head if it's made public.-The King of England is at heart a Catholic, but he is sur rounded by Protestant bishops, and no one tells him the state he is in, or speaks to him of God. propriety enter his chamber; besides the queen is almost always there. The Duke of York is thinking of his own affairs, and is too much occupied to take the care he ought of the conscience of the king. Go to him and say that I have conjured you to en treat him to think of what he may be able to do to save the king's soul-he is master in the chamber-he can make those he pleases depart-lose no time, for if it be deferred an instant, it will be too late.

I can no longer with

Barillon readily obeyed. The duke, as if roused from a pro found lethargy, said, You are right-there's no time to lose I will hazard every thing rather than not do my duty on this oc

casion.'

Much stratagem was necessary to remove the Protestant bishops-the room, however, being cleared, except some twenty. people at the door, the duke, pretending to consult him on his will after his death, whispered for some time in the king's ear, who replied often in a loud voice, Yes, with all my heart. A dif ficulty still remained, how to smuggle a Roman Catholic priest into the chamber.-Those of the duchess were too well-known. At length they fixed on a Scotch priest, called Hudelston, who had

VOL. IV.

once saved the king's life-him they disguised and brought in. The room was cleared of all persons, except two Protestant lords, who were permitted to stay for the sake of appearances, when the Duke of York presenting Hudelston said, 'Sire, here is a man who has saved your life, and comes now to save your soul. With great devotion, his majesty then confessed himself, promised, if health returned, openly to declare himself a Catholic, received absolution, the sacrament, and even, says Barillon, extreme unction."

This is the substance of the account more circumstantially related by the French minister. After this ceremony, Barillon adds-The king was a little better-we hoped that God was about to perform a miracle in his cure, but the physicians said he was as bad

as ever.

We shall translate only one other remark. The Bishop of Bath and Wells prayed by him afterwards, but did not propose any profession of faith-He was afraid of a refusal, and still more, as I believe, of displeasing the Duke of York.

The character of Charles is well delineated. In p. 62, we have a black catalogue of his vices, and in p. 64, what appear his virtues are considered, " rather as a proof that he was not a monster." Now the reader shall hear what Mr. Fox thinks the best part of his character, and he may smile or not as he pleases. "The best part of this prince's character, seems to have been his kindness towards his mistresses."

This epitome, as we may call it, of near a century of our history, then concludes with some reflections on the probable conseqences of the reign of Charles II. Lord Holland has pronounced this introductory chapter, with the exception of the account of the Earl of Argyle, "unquestionably the most correct and finished part of the present publication." In this verdict we are perfectly agreed.

[To be concluded in our next.]

The Man of Sorrow, a Novel in 3 Vols. By Alfred Allendale, Esq. Tipper, 1808.

We rarely take up a novel without thinking of the following lines in our triend Bloomfield's "News from Worthing, in a letter from a beast of burden to her brother Jack :"*

No. IV. N. &.

Dear Jack, by the bye, I've long guest,
That 'tis we bring these books in request,

And that some of our family write 'em."

This idea perpetually haunts us, and it is seldom indeed that we have the happiness to find it falsified-The pleasure, however, of being deceived and disappointed sometimes happens, and the present is a singular instance of it. We opened the leaves of these little volumes under the usual impression, and, to our agreeable surprise, have found them the production of a man of wit and genius.

Edward Musgrave, the hero, makes out his title to the denomination of a Man of Sorrow, from the circumstance of having been born under one of the most malign, teazing, and vexatious planets in the whole catalogue of astrology. A short passage at p. 139, vol. 1, will elucidate this point.

"There is one thing observable in all Musgrave's adventures, which is this, that wherever he failed in any design, the destruction of his hopes was rendered more grievous by the flattering prospects which always preceded their downfall; he was unsuccessful, as it were, by mere accident, and met with sorrows from the most unexpected sources, just at the instant he was on the brink of happiness."

It is impossible for us to pursue him through all the varieties of woe to which he is exposed, but no man ever more perfectly exhibited himself in the light of an unlucky dog, or exemplified the proverb of the cup and the lip, in such numerous shapes. He reminds us of a gentleman, who, after failing in fifty pursuits, became the proprietor of Vauxhall Gardens, which he had no sooner opened, than it began to rain, and continued almost without interruption until he quitted the concern, which he did exclaiming with some bitterness-“ By - if I were to turn hatter, men would be made without heads." The interest of the plot to its melancholy catastrophe is well preserved, and the incidents vie in rapidity and number, with those which so delight us in the Gil Blas of Le Sage. He has circumnavigated the entire world of fashionable vice and folly, and under fictitious names, originals in real life are very plainly shadowed out.

The following character of FANNY, a dashing, animated girl, we give as a specimen of his style of delineation, and in his reflection on it, we heartily concur.

"She was what the world calls an animated girl :-she would pun, throw in a jest wherever she could, affect opinions different from all

the world, talk upon abstruse subjects, quote Homer to an officer of the guards, and talk of perpetual motion to an effeminate man of fashion,

"Self-opiniated, with complete self possession, a sarcastic sneer, and a bewitching smile, a good person, and many accomplishments, this young woman was known as a genius. She was a connoisseur in painting, an amateur in music, a perfect dancer, an exquisite performer on the piano, and a Billington in singing. She wrote tales and poems, published on wove paper and broad margins, in Bond-street, made. designs for furniture, dressed in the most outré costume to set fashions, and, in short, was a fine, dashing, animated girl-and a more horrible thing is there not upon earth. Modesty and diffidence are the attributes of woman: their silence is eloquence, and their timidity conquest.

"Miss Wilding did not think so, and rattled away most furiously; called one man a "horrid brute, another a vile monster," hurried over all topics but where she could raise the laugh, which she would do at any body's expense except her own.

"But with all this blaze of notoriety, did any body esteem her particularly? Was there any one man upon earth, who on his pillow could say "My God! what an angel is Fanny Wilding!" Had she ever refused an offer of marriage? No! for a palpable reason-nobody ever had made her one. She was like a fine firework, entertaining to look at, but dangerous to come too near to; her bouncing and cracking in the open air gave a lustre to surrounding objects, but there was not a human being who could be tempted to take the exhibition into his own house, and run the risk of burning his fingers with it." V, I. 230~2.

As we cannot meddle with the main business, which would be injured by any analysis or partial citation, we shall quote a little French story, for the entertainment of our readers from vol. 2, p.

108.

"A Monsieur Petrand,--walking through the Rue St. Honoré, Paris, (where the good pomatum is made)-saw a purse lying in the street, -and, as we should all do in a similar situation, picked it up; meeting some friends he told them of his good fortune and invited them to supper.

"Meanwhile the owner of the money having traced it to poor Petrand, flew to the officers of justice, who seized him with his companions, he confessed the fact, begged the purse-master to count the coin, assuring him that he had only spent one crown for claret.

"The prosecutor would have every denier restored, Petrand had no money. His friends had run away on the first alarm, and he determined to follow their example. The officers attempted to secure him, but he rushed out of the house and they at his heels,in crossing the