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was very slight, and only remarkable when he was conversing as he walked. It did not in the least detract from the imposing ensemble of his appearance. Genius and power were expressed on his large high forehead. His forehead alone was sufficient to form a physiognomy. The fire which flashed from his eyes expressed all his thoughts and feelings. But when the serenity of his temper was not disturbed, the most pleasing smile lighted up his noble countenance, and gave to it an undefinable charm, which I never beheld in any other person! At these times it was impossible to see him without loving him.

I have already said, in speaking of his tastes, that his only nicety consisted in extreme cleanliness, and that his dress was not at all remarkable. One day, wishing to set the example of a useful encouragement to the manufacturers of Lyons, he appeared at one of Maria Louisa's parties in a dark-coloured velvet coat, with diamond buttons. He was not at all himself, and seemed quite uncomfortable in his new dress.

One day, during the Spanish campaign at Aranda, he sent for me at seven in the morning, to give me some Spanish papers, which he was in a hurry to have translated. He was standing shaving himself near a window; Roustan held a large glass when he had shaved one side of his face, he changed sides, and Roustan replaced himself in such a manner, that the side not shaved was towards the light. Napoleon used only one hand in this operation.

Another time at Schoenbrunn, during the armistice which followed the battle of Wagram, 1809, I assisted him in putting on a grey frock coat, which one of his valets de chambre brought him, and which he desired him to place on a chair, wishing to finish a game of chess which he did me the honour to play with me: he was going incognito with the Duke of Frioul (Duroc) in a private carriage, to see some magnificent fireworks which had been prepared on the Prater, on the signature of the preliminaries of the peace. A box had been taken under a feigned name. Except on these three occasions I never saw Napoleon in any other dress than that of Colonel of chas seurs, or grenadier of his guards, or in his own costume of Emperor.

Much has been said of Napoleon's passionate taste for women. Appreciating as he did their merit and beauty, it is not to be supposed that he was free from those amiable weaknesses which constitute the charms of life, and to which all men

pay the same homage. It is certain, that the young man who is just entering on life, and who trembles at each moment lest his secret should be betrayed, is less reserved on this point than Napoleon was. It was never he, but the women themselves, that made these transitory inclinations public; and I think their number has been singularly exagge rated.

His taste for snuff has been equally talked of. I can assert with truth, that he lost more than he took. It was rather a fancy, a kind of amusement, than a real want. His snuff-boxes were very plain, of an oval shape, made of black shell, lined with gold, all exactly alike, and differing only in the beautiful antique silver medals, which were set in the lid.

Nature had established a perfect harmony between his power and his habits, between his public and his private life. His deportment and manners were always the same, they were inherent and unstudied. He was the only man in the world of whom it may be said without adulation, that the nearer you viewed him the greater he appeared.

There is one observation, which will certainly not be forgotten by the historian, to whose lot it may fall to delineate the character of this eminently celebrated

man.

He knew how to preserve his personal dignity unimpaired at all times and in all circumstances, whether when surrounded by the bayonets of Europe, or when delivered, disarmed, to the insults of the gaolers of St. Helena.

I have often heard the Emperor say, that the incurable folly of Frenchmen was carrying their sentiments to an extreme, and pretending to be much more inconstant in their tastes than they really were.

He was well aware, that previous to the Revolution there existed no true national spirits in France, because until then the French nation was governed by manners and customs rather than by fixed and constitutional laws, and that it was simply the dominion of strength over weakness.

He said that Frenchmen, naturally chivalrous and warlike, were always led away, and even overcome by the splendour of glory, that they forgave every thing when followed by success and victory; but that it was necessary to restrain them by the unity and dignity of the administration, and by fixed laws.

He said sometimes that the enthusiasm of others abated his.

Men, in his opinion, were so many

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SUBJECT OF THE ILLUSTRATION

Represents Eustatius, the Brother of Godfrey, in the act of presenting Armida, niece of Hidraotes, King of Damascus, to him in his camp, before his assembled companions in arms; she has been sent by her uncle to the camp, skilled in magical arts, with a feigned story of her misfortunes, to endeavour to captivate by her machinations, the Commanders of the Army.*

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And doth not Servius say the like in a verse wherein I opine he hints at WehrWolves? Vlulare, canum est furiare' -to howl is the voice of dogs and furies:-thus findest thou, Faber sciolus! that here we have an agreement touching the voice of wolves, which is low and mournful, and therefore the word Vlulatus is fitly applied as an imitation there

* See the Embellishment, illustrative of the above, page 113.

of. Your Almaine says Heulen; the Frenchman saith Hurler; and the Englishman, with a conglomeration of sounds as bad as the Wolf's own, calleth it "howling."

"By the holy Dog of Tobias!" ejaculated Bonvarlet, " and I think our Doctor speaketh all languages, as he had had his head broken with a brick from the Tower of Babel, and all the tongues had got in at once. But where think ye, Monsieur, that these cursed Loups Garoux come from? Are they like unto other Wolves, or what breed be they?"

"Nicole Bonvarlet," again began the untired Doctor, after taking a long draught of the flask," Nicole Bonvarlet, I perceive thou hast more of good literature than thy fellows; for not only dost thou mark erudition when it is set before thee, but thou also wisely distrustest thine own knowledge, and questionest of those who are more learned than thou. Touching thy demand of what breed are the Wehr-Wolves, be this mine answer. Thou knowest, that if ye ask of a shepberd how he can distinguish one sheep from another, he tells you that even in their faces he seeth a distinctio secretio, the which to a common observer is not visible; and thus, when the vulgar see a wolf, they can but say it is a wolf, and there endeth their cunning. But, by the Lion of St. Mark! if ye ask one skilled ́in the knowledge of four-footed animals, he shall presently discourse to you of the genus and species thereof; make known its haunts and history, display its occult properties, and give you a lection upon all that your ancient and modern authors have said concerning it."

"By the Mass now!" interrupted La Jaquette, "and I would fain know the habit in which your Loup Garoux vests him when he is not in his wolfish shape; whether he have slashed cuishes, and-"

"Peace, I pray you, peace, good Tailleur," said Doctor Antoine; "it is but rarely that I speak, and even then my discourse is brief, and therefore I beseech you not to mar the words of wisdom, which are seldom heard, with thy_folly, which men may listen to hourly. Touching your Wolves, honest friends, as I was saying, there are five kinds, as Oppianus noteth in his Admonition to Shepherds; of the which, two sorts that rove in the countries of Swecia and the Visgoths, are called Acmone, but of these I will not now speak, but turn me unto those of whose species is the Wehr-Wolf. The first is named Tocevrep, or the Shooter, for that he runneth fast, is very bold, howleth fearfully-"

"There is the cry again!" exclaimed

Malbois, and as the sounds drew nearer, the Doctor's audience evinced symptoms of alarm, which were rapidly increasing, when a still louder shriek was heard close to the house.

"What, ho! within there!" cried a voice, evidently of one in an agony of terror, "an' ye be men, open the door!" and the next moment it was burst from its fastenings by the force of a human body falling against it, which dropped without motion upon the floor.

The confusion which this accident created may well be imagined; the Doctor, greatly alarmed, retreated into the fire-place, whence he cried out to the equally scared rustics, "It's a WehrWolf in a human shape, don't touch him, I tell you, but strike him with a firefork between the eyes, and he'll turn to a Wolf and run away! You, Cuirbouilli, out with thy knife, and flay me a piece of his neck, and you'll see the thick wolfhide under it. For the love of the Saints, neighbours, take care of yourselves, and-"

"Peace, Master Doctor," said Bonvarlet, the only one of the party who had ventured near the stranger, "he breathes yet, for he's a Christian man, like as we

are.

"Don't you be too sure of that," replied Du Pilon; "ask him to say his Creed, and his Pater-Noster in Latin."

"Nay, good my master," returned the humane host, pouring some wine down the stranger's throat, and bearing his reviving body to the hearth, "he can scarce speak his mother-tongue, and therefore he's no stomach for Latin; so come, thou prince of all Chirurgeons, and bleed me him; and when he comes too, why e'en school him yourself."

Doctor Antoine Du Pilon advanced from his retreat, with considerable reluctance, to attend upon his patient, who was richly habited in the luxuriant fashion of the Court of Francis, and appeared to be a middle-aged man, of handsome features, and commanding presence. As the Doctor, somewhat re-assured, began to remove the short cloak to find out the stranger's arm, he started back with affright, and actually roared with pain at receiving a deep scratch from the huge paw of a Wolf, which apparently grew out from his shoulder! "Avaunt thee, Sathanas!" ejaculated Du Pilon, "I told ye how it would be, my masters, that this cursed Wehr-Wolf would bleed us first. By the Porker of St. Anthony! Blessed beast! and he hath clawed me from the Biceps Flexor Cubiti, down to the Os Lunare, even as a peasant would plough up a furrow!"

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bonvarlet, holding up the dreaded Wolf's paw, which was yet bleeding, as if it had been recently separated from the animal,"Here's no Wehr-Wolf, but a brave Hunter, who hath cut off this goodly forehand in the forest, with his couteau-dechasse; but soft, he added, throwing it aside," he recovers!"

"Pierre-Henri!" said the stranger, recovering, "where are ye? How far is the King behind us?-Ha! what place is this? and who are ye?" he continued looking round.

"This, your good worship, is the Chevalier Bayard's Arms, in the Town of St. Yrieux, where your Honour fell, through loss of blood, as I guess, by this wound. We were fain to keep the door barred, for fear of the Wehr-Wolves; and we half-deemed your Lordship to be one, at first sight of the great paw you carried, but now I judge you brought it from the forest."

"Ay! yes, thou art in the right on't," said the stranger, recollecting himself, "'twas in the forest! I tell thee, Host, that I have this night looked upon the Arch-Demon himself."

66

Apage, Lucifer!" ejaculated Du Pilon, devoutly crossing his breast," and have I received a claw from his fore-foot! I feel the enchantment of Lycantrophy coming over me; I shall be a WehrWolf myself, shortly; for what saith Hornhoofius, in his Treatise De Diabolus, lib. xiv. cap. 23-they who are torn by a Wehr-Wolf-Oh me! Oh me! Libera nos Domine! Look to yourselves, neighbours, or I shall raven upon ye all.'

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"I pray you, Master Doctor," said Bonvarlet," to let his Lordship tell us his story first, and then we'll hear yours. How was it, fair sir? but take another cup of wine first."

My tale is brief," answered the stranger; "The King is passing to-night through the Limousin, and, with two of my attendants, I rode forward to prepare for his coming; when, in the darkness of the wood, we were separated, and as I galloped on alone, an enormous Wolf, with fiery flashing eyes, leaped out of a brake before me, with the most fearful howlings, and rushed on me with the speed of lightning."

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"Ay," interrupted Du Pilon, as I told ye, they are called, in the Greekish phrase, Nykтepi vol Kaves, Dogs of the Night, because of their howlings, and TogeυTep, for that they shoot along.'

"

“Now I pray your honour to proceed, and heed not the Doctor,' said Bonvarlet.

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"As the Wolf leaped upon my horse, continued the stranger, "I drew my couteau-de chasse, and severed that huge paw which you found upon me; but as the violence of the blow made the weapon fall, I caught up a large forked branch of a tree, and struck the animal upon the forehead; upon which my horse began to rear and plunge, for where the Wolf stood, I saw, by a momentary glimpse of moonlight, the form of an ancient enemy, who had long since been banished from France, and whom I believe to have died of Famine in the Harz Forest!"

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"Lo you there now!" cried Du Pilon, "a blow between the eyes with a forked stick said I not so from Philo-Diamo nes, lib. xcii? Oh! I'm condemned to be a Wehr-Wolf of a verity, and I shall eat those of my most intimate acquaintance the first.-Masters, look to your selves:-O dies infelix! Oh, unhappy man that I am!" and with these words he rushed out of the cottage.

"I think the very fiend is in Monsieur the Doctor to-night," cried the Host, "for here he's gone off without dressing his honour's wound."

"Heed not that, friend, but do thou provide torches and assistance, to meet the King; my hurt is but small; but when my horse saw the apparition I told you of, he bounded forward like a wild Russian colt, dragging me through all the briars of the forest, for there seemed a troop of a thousand wolves howling behind us; and at the verge of it he dropped lifeless, and left me, still pursued, to gain the town, weak and wounded as I was!"

"St. Denis be praised now!", said Bonvarlet, " you showed a good heart, my Lord; but we'll at once set out to meet the King; so, neighbours, take each of ye a good pine fagot off the hearth, and call up more help as you go; and Nicolette and Madelene will prepare for

our return.'

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'But," asked the stranger, "where's the Wolf's paw that I brought from the forest?"

"I cast it aside, my Lord," answered Bonvarlet, till you had recovered, but I would fain beg it of you as a gift, for I will hang it over my fire-place, and have its story made into a song by Rowland the Minstrel, and-Mother of God! what is this?" continued he, putting into his guest's hand a human arm, cut off at the elbow, vested in the worn-out sleeve of a hunter's

's coat, and bleeding freshly at the part where it was dissevered!

"Holy St. Mary!" exclaimed the stranger, regarding the hand attentively,

"this is the arm of Gaspar de Marcanville, yet bearing the executioner's brand burnt in the flesh! and he is a WehrWolf!"

66 Why," said Bonvarlet, "that's the habit worn by the melancholy Hunter, whose daughter lives at the ruined Chateau yonder. He rarely comes to St. Yrieux, but when he does, he brings more game than any ten of your gentlemenhuntsmen ever did. Come, we'll go seek the daughter of this Man-Wolf, and then on to the forest, for this fellow deserves a stake and a bundle of fagots, as well as ever Jeaune d'Arc did, in my simple thinking."

They then proceeded to Adele, at the delapidated Chateau, and her distress at the foregoing story may better be conceived than described; yet she offered not the slightest resistance to accompanying them to the forest; though when one of the party mentioned their expected meeting with the King, her eyes became suddenly lighted up, and retiring for a moment, she expressed herself in readiness to attend them. At the skirts of the forest, they found an elderly man of a strange quaint appearance, crouching in the fern like a hare; who called out to them in a squeaking voice, that was at once familiar to all, "Take care of yourselves, good people, for I am a Wehr-Wolf, and shall speedily spring upon some of ye."

66

Why that's our Doctor, as I am a sinful man," cried Bonvarlet, "let's try his own cure upon him. Neighbour Malbois, give me a tough forked branch, and I'll disenchant him, I warrant; and you, Cuirbouilli, out with your knife, as though you would skin him:”—and then he continued aloud-"Oh! honest friend, you're a Wehr-Wolf, are you? why then I'll dispossess the Devil that's in you.You shall be flayed, and then burned for a wizard.”

With that the rustics of St, Yrieux, who enjoyed the jest, fell upon the unhappy Doctor, and, by a sound beating, and other rough usage, so convinced him that he was not a Wehr-Wolf, that he cried out" Praised be St. Gregory, I am a whole man again! Lo I am healed, but my bones feel wondrous sore. Who is he that hath cured me ?-by the Mass I am grievously bruised!-thanks to the seraphical Father Francis, the Devil hath gone out of me!"

Whilst the peasants were engaged in searching for the King's party, and the mutilated Wolf, the stranger, who was left with Adele de Marcanville, fainted through loss of blood; and, as she bent over him, and staunched his wounds with her scarf, he said with a faint voice,

"Fair one! who is it, thinkest thou, whom thou art so blessedly attending?"

"I wot hot," answered she," but that thou art a man."

"Hear me then, and throw aside these bandages for my dagger, for I am thy father's ancient enemy, the Count de Saintefleur!"

"Heaven forgive you, then!" return ed Adele," for the time of vengeance belongs to it only."

"And it is come," cried a loud hoarse voice, as a large Wolf, wounded by the loss of a fore-paw, leaped upon the Count, and put an end to his existence. At the same moment, the royal train, which the peasants had discovered, rode up with flambeaux, and a knight with a large partizan made a blow at the Wolf, whom Adele vainly endeavoured to preserve, since the stroke was of sufficient power to destroy both. The Wolf gave one terrific howl, and fell backwards in the form of a tall gaunt man, in a hunter's dress; whilst Adele, drawing a packet from her bosom, and offering it to the King, sank lifeless upon the body of her father, Gaspar de Marcanville, the Wehr Wolf of Limousin.-Tales of an Antiquary.

ORIGINAL LETTER OF KING
HENRY VIII. TO CARDINAL
WOLSEY.

THIS Letter is without date. What the "news" was in which the distinguished persons mentioned in it were expected to be so deeply interested, can only be con jectured. The whole Letter is strikingly illustrative at once of the policy of Henry, and of the jealousy and suspicion which haunt the mind of a tyrannical prince.

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tyme, but sapienti pauca. Wrythyne wt
the hand off your lovyng master.
"HENRY R."

Few letters of this reign place in a more glaring light the state of suspicion in which Henry and his minister must have passed their lives. Here is the King's brother-in-law, and the chief of the nobility thought " suspecte," by the Car dinal, with others not named, and he is encouraged by the King to keep watch upon them. What could ensue upon this but the downfall of the Cardinal, when once the gale of the King's favour blew a contrary way?-Retrospective Review.

THE BAG OF THE BEE.
By Robert Herrick.

About the sweet bag of a bee,

Two Cupids fell at odds;
And whose the pretty prize should be,
They vow'd to ask the Gods.

Which Venus hearing, thither came,
And for their boldness stript them,
And taking from them each his flame,
With rods of inyrtle whipt them.

Which done, to still their wanton cries,
When quiet grown she'd seen them,
She kiss'd and wip'd their dove-like eyes,
And gave the bag between them.

SONNET TO THE MOON.

Translated from the Italian of Bernardo Tasso, by Miss Strickland, authoress of the Seven Ages of Women.

Ah, scatter with thy radiance, cold and bright,
The dusky clouds that veil the earth and main :
Now night on her accustomed rounds again,
In sable stole and starry mantle dight,
Returns to shut the landscape from our sight.
Already each green hill and flowery plain,
Demand thy lovely beams, and sigh in vain
For dews descending from thy locks of light.
Look forth in all thy beauty, and array
The earth in trembling glory-rise, and chase
Each envious vapour, and unveil thy face,
In rival splendour to the orb of day.

Myne owne good Cardinall.-I recommande me unto you as hartely as hart can thynke. So it is, that by cause wryttying to me is sumwhat tedius and paynefull, therfor for the most part of this bysynesses I have commyted to our trusty counseler thys berrar, to be declaryd to you by mowthe, to whyche we wollde you shude gyff credens. Nevertheles, to thys that followeth, I thought In thy bright wanderings through the fields of

nott best to make hym pryve nor non other but yow and I, whyche is that I wolde you shulde make good watch on the Duke off Suffolke, on the Duke off Bukyngham, on my Lord off Northecumberland, on my Lord off Darby, on my Lord off Wylshere, and on others whyche you thynke suspecte, to see what they do wt thes newes. No more to you at thys

Hear then, oh Moon, shine forth revealed and fair,

air.

THE DEAD MAN'S GRAVE.

SHOULD any of our readers wish to become better acquainted with the spot known by the designation of The Dead Man's Grave, they may find it at the end

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