Writing in his diary on the 11th of October, 1789, Morris mentions a circumstance of which we do not remember to have seen a notice elsewhere:

"This morning the King's dentist fell dead at his feet. The poor King exclaimed that he was devoted to experience every kind of misfortune. He had, however, presence of mind enough to desire Vicq d'Azyr, the physician, to go and break the matter gently to the Queen, who was not well and might suffer from such a shock."

coming his dignity. Mounting the scaffold, he expressed anew his forgiveness of those who persecuted him, and a prayer that his deluded people might be benefited by his death. On the scaffold he attempted to speak, but the commanding officer Santerre ordered the drums to beat. The King made two unavailing efforts, but with the same bad success. The executioners threw him down, and were in such haste as to let fall the axe before his neck was properly placed, so that he was mangled. It would be needless to give you an affecting narrative of

"The King is in effect a prisoner at Paris, and obeys entirely the National Assembly. This Assembly may be divided into three parts. One, called the aristocrats, consists of the high clergy, the members of the law (not lawyers), and such of the nobility as think they ought to form a separate order; another, which has no name, but which consists of all sorts of people, really

friends to a free government. The third is composed of what are called here the enragés, that is, the madmen. These are the most numerous, and are of that class which in America is known by the name of pettifogging lawyers, together with a host of curates, and many of those who, in all revolutions, throng to the standard of

change because they are not well. This party, that circumstance very great authority. They have already unhinged everything...... If the reigning Prince were not the small-beer character he is, there can be but little doubt that, watching events and making tolerable use of them, he would regain his authority; but what will you have from a creature who, situated as he is, eats and drinks and sleeps well, and laughs and is as merry a grig as lives? The idea that they will give him some money when he can economize, and that he will have no trouble in governing, contents him entirely. Poorman, he little thinks how unstable is his situation. He is beloved, but it is not with the sort of love which a monarch should inspire; it is that kind of good-natured pity which one feels for a led captive. There is, besides, no possibility of

in close alliance with the populace, derives

serving him, for at the slightest show of opposi

tion he gives up everything and every person."

Morris writes in his diary on the 14th of July, 1791 :

"In the Assembly the republican party have treated the King very harshly, but the report

which insists on his inviolability will pass.

de Trudaine mentioned as having heard from young Montmorin that the King is by nature cruel and base. An instance of his cruelty, among others, is that he used to spit and roast live cats. In riding with Madame de Flahaut, I tell her that I could not believe such things. She tells me that when young he was guilty of such things; that he is very brutal and nasty, which she attributes chiefly to his bad education. His brutality once led him so far, while Dauphin, as to beat his wife, for which he was exiled four days by his grandfather Louis XV. Until very lately he used always to spit in his hand, as being more convenient. It is no wonder that such a beast should be dethroned."

to the

In a letter to Jefferson, written on the 10th of July, 1792, Morris thus refers National Assembly :

"On Saturday, the 7th, a farce was acted in the Assembly, in which the principal performers played well their parts, the King was duped according to custom, and things are verging fast to the catastrophe of the play."

Writing to him on the 25th of January, 1793, Morris describes the last scene of all, which he may have witnessed, though he does not expressly say so :

"The late King of this country has been publicly executed. He died in a manner be

tant, having but a few minutes to write in by the present good opportunity. The greatest care was taken to prevent a concourse of people. This proves a conviction that the majority was not favourable to that severe measure. In fact,

the great mass of the people mourned the fate of their unhappy prince. I have seen grief, such as for the untimely death of a beloved parent. Everything solemnity which is awfully distressing."

wears

an appearance of

Morris's references to Marie Antoinette are not many, and are sometimes very uncomplimentary. Writing of Madame Necker's salon on the 25th of October, 1789, he says: "See for the first time since I arrived in Europe Count Fersen, whose merit consists in being the Queen's lover." On the 4th of July, 1791, after the King and Queen had been arrested in their attempt to leave France, he writes that "Vicq d'Azyr [the Queen's physician] says that the Queen's hair is turned grey by her late adventures." On the 18th of October, 1793, he wrote to Washington as follows: "The Queen was executed the day before yesterday. Insulted during her trial and reviled in her last moments, she behaved with dignity throughout. This execution will, I think, give to future hostilities a deeper dye and unite more intimately the Allied Powers."

When Gouverneur Morris visited France for the first time, his country had not been independent in the eyes of international jurists for more than five years, and yet he was treated with the exceptional consideration which his countrymen now receive, when their country is upwards of a century old. Indeed, he was a greater curiosity than any American is who visits Paris at the present

time. What struck him most was the condition of Paris itself. The streets were ill lit and ill paved; those who could not afford to ride in carriages were obliged to dress in black, with black stockings, and this became the dress of those members of the Third Estate who ended by sending most of the first to the scaffold. The foot passengers stood in terror of the vehicles, which bore down upon them as cabs do now in Paris, and often succeeded in killing them. As an illustration of what Morris experienced, and also as a specimen of the many verses which occur in this work, which have no pretension to be regarded as poetry, yet are fair trials of skill, the following may be given. The verses are headed 'Paris':

"Seigneur," replies the poor cocher,
"Moi, humbly I your pardon pray.
Had I supposed a horse lay there
I would have taken better care.
But by St. Jacques declare I can

I thought 'twas nothing but a man!"

Morris's account of the first meeting of the States-General is well worth reading. He reached Versailles early on the 5th of May, and entered the great hall in the palace a little after eight :

"I sit there in a cramped situation till after

a

twelve, during which time the different members are brought in and placed, one 'bailliage' after the other. When M. Necker comes in he is loudly and repeatedly clapped, and so is the Duke of Orleans; also a Bishop who has long lived in his diocese, and practised there what his profession enjoins. Another Bishop, who preached yesterday sermon which I did not hear, is applauded, but those near me say that this applause is unmerited. An old man who refused to dress in the costume prescribed for the Tiers, and who appears in his farmer's habit, receives a long and loud plaudit. M. de Mirabeau is hissed, though not loudly. The King at length arrives, and takes his seat; the Queen on his left, two steps lower than him. He makes a short speech, very proper, and well spoken or rather read. The tone and manner have all the fierté which can be expected or desired from the blood of the Bourbons. He is interrupted in the reading by acclamations so warm and of such lively affection that the tears start from my eyes in spite of myself. The Queen weeps or seems to weep, but no one voice is raised to wish her well. I would certainly raise my voice if I were a Frenchman; but I have no right to express a sentiment, and in vain solicit those who are near me to do it. After the King has spoken he takes off his hat, and when he puts it on again his nobles imitate his example. Some of the Tiers do the same, but by degrees they take them off again. The King then takes off his hat. The Queen seems to think it wrong, and a conversation seems to pass in which the King tells her he chooses to

spoker

do it whether consistent or not consistent with the ceremonial; but I could not swear to this, being too far distant to see very distinctly, much less to hear. The nobles uncover by degrees, so that if the ceremonial requires three manœuvres, the troops are not yet properly drilled." The Keeper of the Seals made a speech, and Necker then read his report:

"It contains much information and some things very fine, but it is too long, and has many repetitions and too much compliment, and what the French call emphase. The plaudits were loud, long, and incessant...... After the speech is over the King rises to depart, and receives a long and affecting Vive le roi. The Queen rises, and to my great satisfaction she hears for the first time in several months the sound of Vive la Reine. She makes a low courtesy, and this produces

a

courtesy." louder exclamation, and that a lower

Morris did not cherish any illusions about the Revolution. He wrote before the meeting of the States-General to the Marthen amquis de la Luzerne, who bassador at the Court of St. James's :

was

degenerate days.

Campion's muse, meanwhile, had received a new stimulus from the untimely death of Prince Henry, in November, 1612, which was fraught with such bitter consequences to the reigning family and the nation at large. Among the numerous other poets who expressed their courtly, but genuine regret at the loss of so friendly a patron, the literary doctor came forward with a set of Songs of Mourning,' which, though written (so to speak) "to order," and upon a single theme, are vigorous in character, and by no means unworthy of their parentage. They are addressed to the king and queen, Prince Charles, his sister and her fiancé, the Count Palatine, Great Britain, and the world; and an elegy upon the deceased prince is prefixed to the entire series, which itself contains several powerful lines, but like most panegyrics upon royal personages is couched in somewhat exaggerated language. The poems possess a special interest just now, when every one has been to see the admirable exhibition of Stuart relics at the New Gallery, and is familiar with the features of that unlucky race, as there displayed, from James III. to "Cardinal York." Of Prince Henry there are no fewer than six portraits in oil, besides several miniatures and engraved likenesses, and the impression they convey is undeniably pleasing.

a few

In 1613 or thereabouts Campion, to use his own expression, "enfranchised" more of the songs which had already been for some considerable time in manuscript. The collection, like its predecessor of 1601, was divided into two parts, one entitled 'Divine and Moral Songs,' and the other

ginning "To music bent is my retired mind," "Lo, when back mine eye, Pilgrimlike, I cast," and "Awake, awake, thou heavy sprite," would certainly put to shame the laboured and frigid productions of most modern hymn-writers. We like him better, however, in his more mundane dress. "I have chiefly aimed," he says, "to couple my words and notes lovingly together," and in his amorous poetry he has unquestionably succeeded in his attempt. Its spontaneous charm and the simplicity of its cadences render it admirably suited for musical utterance-in striking contrast, as has been recently pointed out by Mr. J. A. Symonds in a general comparison of Elizabethan and Victorian verse, with the more complex structure and far-fetched imagery affected by the poets of the nineteenth century. How easy and melodious, for instance, is this description of the delights surrounding his lady-love!

Where she her sacred bower adorns

The rivers clearly flow;
The groves and meadows swell with flowers,
The winds all gently blow.
Her sun-like beauty shines so fair,

Her spring can never fade:

Who then can blame the life that strives
To harbour in her shade?

Her grace I sought, her love I wooed,
Her love thought to obtain ;
No time, no toil, no vow, no faith,
Her wished grace can gain.

Yet truth can tell my heart is hers,
And her will I adore;

And from that love when I depart
Let heaven view me no more!

Campion's next collection of English verse, the Third and Fourth Books of

،

Airs,' appeared about four years later than the 'Divine Songs' and 'Light Conceits. The date (for it is undated) is fixed by that of the release of Sir Thomas Monson from the Tower, where he had been confined for than a year on a charge in connexion

position of which their author thus humorously apologizes :

That holy hymns with lovers' cares are knit
Both in one quire here, thou mayst think 't unfit.
Why dost not blame the Stationer as well
Who in the same shop sets all sorts to sell ?
Divine with styles profane, grave shelved with vain,
And some matched worse. Yet none of him com-

plain.

Mr. Bullen observes in his preface that the excellence of the devotional poetry contained in the first part of this volume has never been properly recognized, and claims for Campion a special meed of praise in that "to fine religious exaltation he joined the true lyrical faculty." To ourselves, we must confess, this eulogy seems a little overstrained, for his work in this kind is surely not unfrequently rough and unpleasing. The opening lines of his metrical version of Psalm cxxxvii., for example, are graceful and flowing enough :

As by the streams of Babylon
Far from our native soil we sat,
Sweet Sion, thee we thought upon,
And every thought a tear begat.

But later on we come upon the following verse, which is awkward and involved both in style and expression :

Is then the song of our God fit
To be profaned in foreign land?
O Salem, thee when I forget,

Forget his skill may my right hand!

He is happier, no doubt, when not adapting but creating, and the poems be

and his subsequent pardon by the Govern-
ment in February, 1617-an event com-
memorated by the poet in his dedicatory
epistle to this lifelong patron and friend.
These two books contain some of his best
work, and one is lost in admiration at the
marvellous facility displayed both in rhyme
and metre, and at the abundant wealth of
genuine melody, seductive indeed, but
never cloying. "Shall I come, sweet love,
to thee?" "Love me or not, love her I
must or die," "O never to be moved,"
and several more that might be cited, seem
to us real masterpieces in their way. We
prefer, however, to give an example of
Campion's lighter style, in which the shrewd
physician is amusingly apparent :-
common sense of the experienced family

Never love unless you can
Bear with all the faults of man:
Men will sometimes jealous be,
Though but little cause they see;
And hang the head, as discontent,
And speak what straight they will repent.

Men that but one saint adore,
Make a show of love to more:
Beauty must be scorned in none,
Though but truly served in one:
For what is courtship, but disguise?
True hearts may have dissembling eyes.
Men when their affairs require
Must awhile themselves retire:
Sometimes hunt, and sometimes hawk,
And not ever sit and talk.
If these, and such like you can bear,
Then like and love, and never fear !

In 1619, only a few months before his death, the poet issued a complete edition of his Latin verse, comprising (as above stated) his early epigrams and elegies, to the former of which large additions were made, and a curious piece in hexameters, entitled 'Umbra.' The epigrams are of very various merit; but many have a literary interest, such as those addressed to Lord Bacon, William Percy, and the brothers Mychelburne, while the sly thrusts aimed at the unfortunate Barnabe Barnes and other rival versifiers are amusing enough, as witness the following (quoted in Mr. Bullen's introduction) upon Nicholas Breton :

Carmine defunctum, Breto, caute inducis Amorem; Nam numeris nunquam viveret ille tuis.

No metre comes amiss to Campion, and his sportive fancy adorns all he touches,

even when his themes are most trivial. The

hendecasyllables congratulating Edward Mychelburne on his love for rural retirement are admirably neat, beginningPrudenter facis, ut mihi videtur, Et sentis, Edoarde, qui optumum te Longe pessima ab urbe sevocasti, Vix anno ter eam, aut quater revisens.

There are few scholars at the present day who could frolic so idiomatically, and emit such sparkling Latinity with an ease so engaging.

The good doctor did not long survive his latest offspring, his funeral taking place at St. Dunstan's in the West on March 1st, 1619/20. His birthplace seems to be unknown, and we have no information as to the details either of his Cambridge career, or of his early dalliance with law at Gray's Inn, although some might surely be discovered by diligent search. But, thanks to Mr. Bullen, he has now had a chance given him of asserting his undoubted claim to an honourable place upon the famous roll of Elizabethan poets.

The Official Progress of the First Duke of Beaufort through Wales in 1684. By Photo-lithography from the Original MS. of Thomas Dineley. (Blades, East & Blades.)

IT is a serious misfortune for the Principality that no one has yet been found to write critically and comprehensively the story of its national existence. The efforts at a continuous history have been marred by narrowness of view and absence of the critical spirit. There are a few monographs,

notable among them being Mr. Philips's

'Civil War in Wales,' which furnish an accurate and a fairly exhaustive treatment of the special periods with which they deal. But among the neglected studies may be placed the history of that anomalous Court of Council which was established by Edward IV. at Ludlow, and is generally known as the Council of the Welsh Marches. The great mass of its records have been carefully preserved, and although they have hitherto remained comparatively unexplored, they most probably contain valuable data for an interesting chapter on the history of the Welsh border. With the extension of the shire system into the Principality, the jurisdiction and the administrative influence of the Council diminished in importance, and in the Civil War it was practically abolished. After the Restoration it was re-established,

and in 1684 the first Duke of Beaufort, as its Lord President, made a progress through Wales, a faithful record of which has been handed down to us in the present MS. by Thomas Dineley, or Dingley, a member of the duke's escort. Dineley does not inform us of the object of the progress, but as the loyalty of the Welsh to the house of Stuart, so manifest in the time of Charles I., began to show symptoms of waning in the latter years of Charles II., it is probable that the progress was intended to revive the royal influence in Wales, and to strengthen the Crown in its conflict with the Whigs. By enforcing the surrender of municipal charters, the representation of several boroughs in England fell into the hands of the Crown. This policy was not systematically extended to Welsh boroughs, but Dineley records that the Corporation of Cardiff "voluntarily" surrendered its charter to the duke. The speech of the Recorder of Carmarthen further shows that the object of the progress was to stamp out any signs of disaffection, and to stimulate the loyalty of the Welsh people. "Your Grace," the Recorder says,

"will find our heads......regulated by the same principell of Loyaltie, which was our antidote against the Poyson and infection of those treasonable doctrines and practices which in the late dismall times of Rebellion (like the frogs of Egypt) overspread the land round about us."

He boasts that Carmarthen "never gave birth to any such monstrous production as a Sequestrator or a Committeeman," though he subsequently admits that "there have been a sort of sottish and profligate miscreants among us," probably survivors or descendants of the Parliamentarians of the Civil War. But the northern was perhaps even more loyal than the southern half of the Principality, for of Anglesea Dineley tells us, "There are said not to be three Sectaries in the whole Isle." In fact, the greatest loyalty and respect for the established government were everywhere manifested throughout the whole progress, and the gentry of the several counties vied with each other in the magnificence of their receptions, and in the splendour of the entertainments held in honour of the duke and his escort.

Few writers have ever received such kindly treatment at the hands of posterity as Thomas Dineley, the chronicler of the progress. By contemporary writers he is not even mentioned, and little is known of his life save what can be gathered from his MSS. His best-known work is 'History

vandalism of Cromwell's army, speaking with bitterness of "the irregularity of the Usurper's souldiers."

In the main, therefore, the book is a topographical work, written in the form of a diary of the progress. It contains little of value for the social and economic history of the age, excepting the light it incidentally throws on the life and manners, the pursuits and pleasures of the country gentry. Among them, whatever the condition of the lower classes may have been, there probably existed a higher standard of luxury coupled with a more indiscriminate hospitality than prevailed a century later. Margam is described as "an open house for all, where as many came eat and drank as their appetites led them, without the Roman restraint of quantity." Even in a remote part of Cardiganshire French wines were common, though the favourite liquor was "Punch, which they make to a miracle." In this single instance Dineley takes occasion to contrast the squire's table with the peasant's diet of "oaten cakes and beer small made of oaten malt."

The most valuable feature of the work is the spirited sketches with which the text is illustrated. Gough gave a full list of them in his 'British Topography.' The landscapes, which are similar in style to those seen in the 'History from Marble,' may be described as a series of very neat vignettes, while the drawings of monumental effigies and of elaborate escutcheons prove the skill and care which the author bestowed on his work. Some of the sketches may be supposed to be better than their originals, which could be explained by the fact that the imperfect "scratchings" s" made in the hurry of the progress had to be copied and finished when the MS. was subsequently written out fairly. The work also contains two curious maps, one of which shows "the most famous Haven of Milford," which Dineley's discerning judgment pronounced to be "the most safe and spacious harbour of Great Britain," though in those days its advantages had hardly been recognized.

Leaving the question of the intrinsic value of the work, we cannot help being most thoroughly satisfied with the way in which the MS. has now been reproduced. The original document is in the possession of the present Duke of Beaufort, who had it printed for private circulation in 1864 with a limited number of woodcuts of selected sketches. But the present edition is a facsimile reproduction of the entire MS. with all the sketches in the text, by the

Banks has written an interesting preface, mainly devoted to the history of the Council of the Marches and the presidency of the first Duke of Beaufort. He also refers to the many difficulties attending the work of reproduction, owing to the faintness of the writing, and to the frequency of stains which nearly obliterated the text underneath. The red border lines of each page, which in the Camden Society's edition of the History from Marble' occasionally interfere with the text, have been removed in this MS.; but the well-known experience of the publishers is sufficient to assure us that nothing has been "touched in" so as to render the facsimile less trustworthy than if

of photography, though the numerous penand-ink sketches could only be satisfactorily published by photo-lithography. In fact the work has been most admirably done in every respect, and the result is a pleasing memorial of the Principality as it was two hundred years ago.

NOVELS OF THE WEEK.

Schwarts. By D. Christie Murray. 2 vols. (Macmillan & Co.)

Anno Domini 2000; or, Woman's Destiny. By Sir Julius Vogel, K.C.M.G. (Hutchinson & Co.)

More Sail than Ballast. By C. A. Montrésor. (Allen & Co.)

a

'SCHWARTZ' marks a further step in the process of mild deception by which collection of stories is dressed up to pass as a single novel. To put the name of the first story only on the back of the book has for some time been the practice of the trade; but it has been usual to offer a sort of apology on the title-page by adding "and other stories." In the case of 'Schwartz' no such apology is made, and investigation must be carried further to discover, first, that the two volumes contain four stories, and secondly, that 'Schwartz' is the least considerable of them. It is a story about a dog, and the weakness of it is only to be accounted for by supposing that it is a true story. Art, at all events, has not done much for it. The other stories are worth more; but Mr. Christie Murray has not been able to maintain the standard of his earlier works. As a novelist he started with much promise, and in a short story called 'Coals of Fire,' published about seven years ago, he showed a peculiar gift which would have been still more striking if the story had been issued by itself. He has not done anything so good since. But a faithful public which has once been pleased is not to be put off, and, in truth, these two volumes are better worth reading than the average collection of stories. Mr. Murray should correct his French; he would not willingly say that a man was arréanti, nor write "Que diable faisant-il dans cette gaière?"

We are somewhat doubtful whether Sir Julius Vogel's volume should be classed among novels, for the tale that it contains, which is very dull, is a mere excuse for startling and lively statements with regard to the future of the British Empire for 110 years to come. It is somewhat odd to find an ex-Conservative candidate, even if he did afterwards become one of the leaders in a coalition government in New Zealand, writing as Sir Julius Vogel does about property and certain other points of existing Conservative doctrine. He tells us that in 1920 the Irish question was still to the front, and that Home Rule had not been granted, but, as a great war was obviously coming on, the colonies interfered, and the Premier of Canada, speaking in the name of Canada, Australasia, and South Africa, informed the Prime Minister of England that the colonies could no longer regard without concern the condition of Ireland, and that, enjoying as they did free local institutions, they saw no reasons why these should be refused to Ireland. Havingreceived an uncivil answer from the Prime Minister of England, the colonial