PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION AT THIS OFFICE: HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE REIGN OF GEORGE II. These very interesting and valuable sketches of Queen Caroline, Sir Robert Walpole, Lord Chesterfield, Lady Mary Wortley Montague, Pope, and other celebrated characters of the time of George II., several of which have already appeared in the LIVING AGE, reprinted from Blackwood's Magazine, will be issued from this office, in book form, as soon as completed. A HOUSE OF CARDS. THE BRAMLEIGHS OF BISHOP'S FOLLY, by CHARLES LEVER. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY LITTELL & GAY, BOSTON. FOR EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. But we do not prepay postage on less than a year, nor where we have to pay commission for forwarding the money. Price of the First Series, in Cloth, 36 volumes, 90 dollars. " Second " Third 20 50 80 The Complete Work, 240 " Any Volume Bound, 3 dollars; Unbound, 2 dollars. The sets, or volumes, will be sent at the expense of the publishers. PREMIUMS FOR CLUBS. For 5 new subscribers ($40.), a sixth copy; or a set of HORNE'S INTRODUCTION TO THE BIBLE, unabridged, in 4 large volumes, cloth, price $10; or any 5 of the back volumes of the LIVING AGE, in nambers, price $10. From Saint Paul's. A SONG OF ANGIOLA IN HEAVEN. FLOWERS, - that have died upon my Sweet, Lulled by the rhythmic dancing beat Of her young bosom under you, - For lo, - a garden-place I found, With faces bent and amorous; - My Love I found. Alone she walked, -ah, well I wis, Then when I called to her her name, At once across the sward she came, Full fain she seemed, my own dear maid, And askéd ever as she came, "Where hast thou stayed?" "Where hast thou stayed?" - she asked as tho' The long years were an hour ago ; But I spake not, nor answered, And in her clear cheek's changeless red, That in this place the Hours were dead, "This is well done," she said, - " in thee, O Love, that thou art come to me, To this green garden glorious; For here is rest. "No formless Future blurs the sky; At "Heaver" she ceased, - and lifted up With rounded mouth, and eyes aglow; Then set I lips to hers, and felt, Ah, God, the hard pain fade and melt, And now, O Flowers, Now for all waiting hours, For of a surety, now, I see, That, without dim distress For my dear Lady's sake Out from my pain a pillow, and to take And, to the holding of my dear Love's hand, Forget the grieving and the misery. A. D. M. MAGNE, French Minister of Finance, reports to the Emperor that the subscriptions to the loan of 18,000,000l. amounted to 600,000,000l., or 34 times as much. No less than 781,292 persons sent inapplications, and the cash deposit amounted to 26,000,000l., being an average of 331. for each applicant. M. Magne draws from these facts the conclusion that the confidence of the public in the credit of the State does not find its true and definitive expression in the price of the Funds, a remark intended to soothe a wellknown sore in his Majesty's mind that he cannot get Rente up to its level under Louis Philippe, far less up to its English level. Great efforts are made to reduce the importance of M. Magne's figures, but after all reductions the fact remains that France has much money very widely diffused. Are there 800,000 persons in England who could either be taught how to apply for a loan or find a deposit of 301. apiece? Spectator, 22 Aug. AMONG the Reports on the Paris Exhibition is a chapter on a new system of shoeing horses. Its inventor, M. Charlier, contends that the present shoe destroys the horse's foot, and substitutes for it an iron band, let into a rectangular groove scooped from the outer circle of the horse's foot. This band is fastened with seven rectangular nails, driven into oval holes. The sole of the foot and the frog are thus allowed to touch the ground, the horse never slips, and never gets diseases of the foot. The new shoe has been tried by M. Lauguet, a large jobmaster in Paris, and has reduced lameness in his stables by two-thirds. The Omnibus Company, moreover, have shod 1,200 horses, and speak of the improvement in high terms. Has anybody ever clearly explained why a horse can travel without shoes all his life on a stony desert as hard as iron, and cannot travel on an English road? Spectator, 22 Aug. HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE REIGN | disappointed, injured, high-spirited wife, OF GEORGE II. NO. VI. THE YOUNG CHEVALIER. THERE are some landscapes in the world, in which foreign memories, alien to the place, and in some cases less touching and momentous than the natural local associations, thrust themselves in, and obscure to the spectator at once the nationality and individual character of the spot. The English traveller, when he climbs the height of Tusculum, has a scene before him full of the grandest memories of a past which is the common inheritance of the whole civilised world. His boyish lessons, his youthful studies, if they have done anything for sometimes in open, sometime in tacit rebellion, and an unfaithful, exacting husband, weak, but tyrannical, wicked, yet religious as princes sometimes are permitted to be. Strangely enough, though Queen Clementina, as she was called, would seem to have been of a higher and stronger character than her husband, there is no reference to her in any of her son's letters, and little in the contemporary records. James, whatever his sins were, and they were many, seems to have kept, at least, the affection of his children. But it is impossible to imagine a worse atmosphere for the growth of young lives. The melancholy dispossessed Family was surrounded by a little him, have qualified him to identify every coterie of a court - a community which, hillock, and hear a far-off voice out of every under the best of circumstances, has much tomb. Or if it is not old but modern Rome that charms him, there are a hundred lights on that Campagna, a thousand influences of sound and sense about, enough to move the least imaginative soul; Rome lying distant of the pettiness, personal squabbles, rumours, and gossip of a village, embittered and set on edge in this case by the fact that its members were discontented and broken men, whose hopes and hearts were on the great plain; and the dome that elsewhere, and to whom intrigue and conBuonarotti hung between earth and heaven spiracy were daily bread. Plots and counstanding out the one thing visible, full of ter-plots of all kinds went on in the unquiet suggestions of the treasures lying under household. Every day a gloomy train atand about it, are sufficient to overbrim tended the mimic king across the Piazza to the eager brain. How is it that, as we the Church of the Holy Apostles, where he stand upon the wistful plateau with that went to pay his devotions. Meddlers of great scene before us, Rome and her mem- all kinds, ruined soldiers, broken-down ories fade from our eyes? "Shrivelling statesmen, shifty priests, surrounded the like a parched scroll," the plain rolls up boys thus growing up to an inheritance of and passes away. The Highland hills all false hopes and idle greatness. The bells black with storms, the lonely, desolate, of the Santi Apostoli, and many a church northern seas, the wild moors and moun- beside, kept ringing in their young ears tain-passes, rise up a sad phantasmagoria with unbroken monotony; the flat ceremo nials of the priestly court, of which they were half-dependents, mocked the exiles. Now and then they gave a concert at their palace, to which the wandering English over the grey olives and clustering vines. It is the wild pibroch that rings in our ears, it is the heather that rustles below our feet, and the chill of the north that breathes into our faces. Why? Because cubs, with their governors," of whom yonder in the Duomo a line of inscription Lord Chesterfield and Lady Mary Wortley has caught the traveller's eye, obliterating give so uncomfortable a description, came Frascati and Rome, and all Italian thoughts: in crowds to stare at the handsome gallant "Karolus Odoardus, Filius Jacobi." These lad, condescending to play for their amuse are the words, and there lies the high heart mouldered into dust, which once beat against the breast of the Young Chevalier! It was in Rome that the life of Charles Stuart began, as it ended, in exile, in an unhappy distracted household, torn asunder by domestic dissensions, divided between a ment, who was, so far as blood and hereditary right went, the undoubted heir of England; sometimes they rushed forth across the Campagna to cheat their inactivity with the commotion of a hunting-party - poor copy of the stir of life. And this while out in the world cannons were roaring, battles fighting. Young William of Cumberland, | futile old Pretender - and yet with a heart as yet unmarked by his terrible nickname, was getting himself glory at Dettingen at the head of those English who were not his countrymen, that he should have the credit of them. It requires little imagination to conceive how this contrast must have rankled in the high, courageous, adventurous soul of the young Stuart, rightful leader of these Englishmen, who, but for the folly of his fathers, might have been at their head to be wrung for his boy, like other men. It was on a night in January 1744-the 9th-that the young Chevalier set forth on one of the most extraordinary, splendid, and hopeless expeditions ever recorded in history. "A little after midnight," a heavy coach, followed by a groom leading another horse, rattled through the stony Roman streets to the Lateran Gate. The keys had been left over night with the captain of the instead of the Hanoverian. He was five-guard, that no hindrance might be given to and-twenty, and had been, no doubt, for the Prince's hunting-party, on which his years consuming his heart in the tedious eagerness carried him forth so early. Genbustle of the ecclesiastical capital. All his tle Prince Henry, he who was afterwards biographers echo the general note of wonder how a prince, trained under the soft Italian skies, amid the supposed effeminacy of Italian customs, could have been fit for the hardships of his after-life. But Charles, it is evident, had been trained, by such experience as that climate and those customs give, to bear heat and cold, the two great extremes, and had taken pains to inure himself to long walks and scant fare, as a hunter among the hills would naturally do: At last, in the depths of winter in the year 1744, the long-expected call came to the eager young man. France, with plans of her own in her mind, had suddenly bethought herself of the Stuarts, by way, not necessarily of restoring them, but of occupying the attention of England with her own affairs, and making her recall not the troops only, but money, with which an obsequious Ministry enabled King George to subsidise all the world. The summons was secret and sudden, known only to the father Cardinal York, was left behind asleep, and, knowing nothing, set out leisurely in the morning to meet the fiery young Nimrod who had preceded him, little thinking on what wild chase it was that his elder brother had gone forth. The chaise and the faithful groom behind went on, across the wintry Campagna in the deep darkness, till they came to the stony causeway, everlasting like all old Roman work, which ascends the AL ban hill. There, under some pretext, the young Adventurer left his companion in the coach and mounted his horse. The story goes on to tell how he stood still "at the turning," alone with his faithful Norman groom, until the heavy coach, with Dunbar in it, who for his part pretended to know nothing, lumbered on upon the resounding road towards the hunting-tryst. When the carriage was gone, Charles Edward turned his horse's head the other way, and, facing towards Frascati, towards Florence, and Paris and England, "gave his bridle and son and their most intimate counsel-reins a shake," and escaped into the world. lors. Out of the brief overwhelming ex- When this romantic incident occurred, citement of that moment a few words come to us full of natural feeling. "I trust, by the aid of God," said the youth, trembling with hope and eagerness, as he set out on his enterprise, to the old man who had gone through that phase and left his hopes behind him ages ago in the cold blank of the the artificial world held on its babbling course at home as if there had been no such startling primitive chances in existence. The armies and commanders of England were on the Continent fighting for other contested successions, and hiring German troops to aid their arms. The Ministers past, "that I shall soon be able to lay three in London were busy making treaties and crowns at your Majesty's feet." The father granting subsidies, struggling to please answers tenderly, out of his life-in-death, King George, whose heart was rather that "Be careful of yourself, my dear boy. I of an Elector of Hanover than of a King of would not lose you for all the crowns in England. The world of fashion fluttered the world," he says, with, one can imagine, and amused itself as one reads in Horace what smile and what sigh! Weak, feeble, Walpole's letters, its Tories pretending to |