between Mary and her lord. Her abilities | sedulously frequented the performance of their were of a very high order, while his do not comedies, and diligently encouraged the authors, seem to have been above mediocrity. He was the former of whom had not even the poor famous for the number of his defeats, and he apology of talent. utterly failed in his one great object, that of conciliating the opposite factions during his reign. The queen's conduct of government during the trying and perilous seasons of her various regencies, is proof that she possessed a clear, far-seeing intellect, an inexorable determination, and an invincible calmness. She was also refined in her deportment, so that her husband's vulgarities must have somewhat distressed though they could not offend her. It is ludicrous, but humiliating, to observe the uncontrolled vagaries of our "great deliverer;" to see men, for whom the stately courtesy of the Stuarts had been a burden too grievous to be borne, keeping cautiously out of the way of the Dutch master whom they had chosen for themselves, on the morning after a debauch, because, in the irritation and depression which are the natural penalties of excess, his cane was apt to fall too freely about the shoulders of his English nobles! Verily there was some change from the days when the high spirit of an Essex brooked not a pettish box on the ear from the hand of an angry woman! We are, however, forced by the testimony of the reluctant William himself to believe that all the virtue and honour of the country had withdrawn itself from him, and that the dregs or society had, for the time, risen to its surface.

Let us now turn for a moment to the brighter side of Queen Mary's character; to the one feeling of her heart, to the point wherein the whole womanhood of her nature was, so to speak, concentrated,-her love for her husband. Strangely indeed would her character as deduced from her letters to him, contrast with the view of her which is obtained by a comparison of all other Those letters parts of her mental history. abound in delicate and playful tenderness, and breathe throughout a spirit of profound and devoted submission; she is in them the very ideal of a wife. When his safety or happiness are in question, her coldness is at once transformed into the most sensitive timidity. We read wonderingly the expressions of anxious love, sympathy, and gentleness, and could almost fancy them the outpourings of a heart as warm, as tender, as self-forgetful as that of Mary Beatrice herself; though, to be sure, the comparison does savour a little of profaneness. But the transformation is indeed marvellous, We must give a and deserves consideration. few extracts, though we fear this article has already exceeded its due limits:

"I have the same complaint to make that I have not time to cry, which would a little ease my heart; but I hope in God I shall have such news from you "Do you believe," said the Earl of Portland as will give me no reason, yet your absence is enough; to the King, when with grief and dismay they but since it pleases God, I must have patience. Do were discussing the utter corruption and syste- but continue to love me, and I can bear all things with matic peculation which prevailed in all branches ease."..." Adieu, do but love me and I can bear all.” of the public service, causing the Duke of..." I confess I deserve such a stop to my joy" (her Schomberg to exclaim that he had never seen a nation so willing to steal as the English (!), -"Do you believe that there is one honest man in the whole of Great Britain ?"

"Yes," replied King William; "there are as many men of high honour in this country as in any other-perhaps more: but, my lord Portland, they are not my friends."

joy was caused by her husband's victory over her father; it was "stopped" by the unexpected delay of that husband's return,) "since maybe it was too great, and I not thankful enough to God, and we are here apt to be too vain upon so quick a success. But I have mortification enough to think that your dear person may be again exposed at the passage of the Shannon as it was at that of the Boyne; this is what Of Queen Mary's mental refinement it is goes to my heart; but yet I see the reasons for it so more difficult to judge than of the outward good that I will not murmur," &c. "Upon these conpolish of her manners. If the lighter literature siderations I ought to be satisfied, and I will endeaof a country be any criterion of the taste of vour as much as may be to submit to the will of God its ruler-and one would fancy that in such and your judgment; but you must forgive a poor wife matters a female ruler of cultivated mind must who loves you so dearly, if I can't do it with dry eyes.' possess some influence-we must pronounce un-... "Judge, then, what a joy it was for me to have favourably. The whole of the light literature approbation of my behaviour; the kind way you of this age is, according to Miss Strick- express it in, is the only comfort I can possibly have land, "too atrociously wicked to bear examin- in your absence. What other people say, I ever ation." The queen's constant patronage of the suspect; but when you tell me I have done well, I worst specimens of the worst class of these could be almost vain upon it."... "I have so many abominations, as embodied in the dramas of several things to say to you, if I live to see you, that Shadwell (her especial protégé) and Congreve, I fear you will never have patience to hear half; but must certainly be received as an indication of you will not wonder if I am surprised at things which, the temper of her mind in these respects. She though you are used to, are quite new to me.

your

I am

very impatient to hear if you are over the Shannon; | SOME PASSAGES FROM A JOURNAL THAT

In the same strain are all her letters conceived; "ELLIS, I shall never get over it!" was the exsometimes with unquestioning humility she sub-clamation of my wounded spirit, as I sank into a mits to some harsh reproof, and entreats forgive- seat in the coffee-room, and despondingly laid my ness; sometimes with playful satire she writes head on the table. My friend made no reply, but, as though she ruled him who was emphatically ringing the bell, calmly awaited the entrance of the her lord and master, and promises to "govern waiter; that functionary, he of the well-applied gently." Again, with deep but quaintly ex- epithet "shilling seeking," glided into the room with pressed pathos, she speaks of the perpetual neces- the usual professional shuffle. sity for self-control while suffering inwardly, for his sake, the burthen of queendom: were she to look sorrowful, it would be supposed that "all was lost;" so she must needs "grin when her heart is ready to burst."

host kindly receives and silences your apologies; you do get over it, and in a couple of months you perhaps break the knees of another favourite. Your first, your cherished and boasted farce, that you have read over with exulting pride to your slightest acquaintance, is unequivocally veto'd (to use a mild term); you are found by your friends in a state of stupor on the hearth rug; it is utterly impossible that you can ever get over it. You do, though, and in a very short time write another, very likely to be veto'd too. And so in innumerable cases: our nature is essentially a "getting over" nature; and depend on it, desponding one! there is no fence of troubles so stiff that you cannot "get over," if you go well at it with steadiness, determination, and judgment. All journals moralize, you see, Reader,-even those which were never kept.

"Why, there he is, after all! Charley, my boy, come here, your kind friends have been seeking you everywhere. Approach, O knight of the broken splash-board!-draw near and pay thy devoirs, thou errant one!"

I felt as if I could have levelled him with the dust, but he was a strong man, and the police were in full attendance; so I withered him with my scorn instead. He did not, I confess, sink under my glance, as I could have wished. I am not sure that he did not whisper to Emily; she certainly smiled as I approached. But I repaid her: I passed with a killingly distant bow, her whom once I would haveAh, well! that was gone by-and approached Mrs. Baverstock. Here, too, I was cut out: Hensley had nailed her. He was great with old ladies, was Hensley: his pompous yet deferential manner pleased; and I think Mrs. Baverstock thought him in the army; if she did, he certainly fostered the idea, and talked of when he last dined at the Mess of the 62d. (The wretch never dined with a Mess but that once in his life, and that was through me.) At length, when my friends deigned to be aware of my presence, what was their topic of conversation? With one consent, each mouth opened upon me with some tale of heroism performed by Ellis. "Such presence of mind!—a debt of gratitude too great to repay!" "My daughter owes her life to his intrepidity." Ellis was a lion of the first magnitude; they would have canonized him, if such a distinction had been applicable to the nautical profession-and for what? Emily had trodden on some ill-balanced plank in walking from a steamer to the shore; Ellis,

There was a large concourse of people on the pier and quay adjoining; there were a great many flags on the vessels, a great many boats shooting in and out, and continually getting in the way; a great many yachts with very white sails, and a few steamers with very black funnels; a continual firing of a small cannon,—and this, Reader, was the Regatta. But which boat was winning or which was losing, or why this won or that lost, I confess to you plainly, I had no more idea than you at the present moment. And there Jones and I stood, the "centre of a glittering ring," who took no possible notice of us, (we had missed Hensley and Ellis for some time,) and tried to make ourselves believe that we were enjoying the Regatta very much. I, for my part, know nothing more unpleasant, more thoroughly unsatisfactory, than to be present at some public amusement, surpassing by,saw the probability of an accident,and placed rounded by bevies of fair damsels, not one of whom his foot on the other end of the treacherous timber. A you know. How you despise the presuming atten- school-boy could have done it as well; a half-hundant cavaliers who flit around them and sun them- dredweight would have answered the purpose admirselves in their soft smiles! What intense puppies ably but it served Ellis for an introduction; he imyou think them! How very silly seem the few vapid proved the opportunity, and thus I found him installed remarks which reach your ear! how much better you as the preserver of my Emily. And there he stood, think you could talk than any of them; how far rattling away upon the technical points of the sailing more you could interest the fair listeners! It was very vessels: jibs, spankers, sheets, booms, sky-scrapers, disgusting, and our misanthropy was rapidly increas-moon-rakers, mizen topmasts, and all such confounded ing to fever heat, when a louder laugh than usual made us turn our eyes to one side, and there-Well, I can take things tolerably coolly, but I was astonished. Standing in the centre of a fairy circle of beauty, all hanging on his lips-pouring forth his jests one minute, explaining the Regatta the next, calling the general attention to some odd scene or incident on land or water-was Ellis! as free, as unconcerned, as unreserved, as if Southampton were his native place, and every well-dressed person around him his first cousin. But who were his peculiar friends? who his chosen auditors? His friends, indeed! of all the crowded parties he must single out my friends, my correct friends, the Baverstocks; and of all the component parts of that company, he must single out Emily, my Emily, as the object of his particular attentions! Any indecision on my part, as to what course to pursue, was put an end to by himself; his quick eye caught me.

jargon, flowed glibly from his lips; and the ladies, silly things! listened, wondered, and admired, simply because they did not understand! What possible chance had I with Ellis? A Greek chorus would have been all the same to his hearers: but a regatta was going on, not a lecture. Ellis was a young lieutenant-they maintained that he had preserved Emily; and I stood and listened too in jealous, miserable silence. Jones had never approached the party; but, as we discovered afterwards, in despair of appreciating the regatta, had rushed to the billiard-room, and lost nineteen games to the marker.

Ellis had had his triumph; why did he trample on me? I was quiet enough; I had not spirit enough to attempt to oppose him; and Emily, malicious little thing! flirted outrageously. Even she arrayed herself against me.

"Why, Mr. Carleton, I always thought you prided

yourself on your driving; how could you make such | grass beneath the waving ivy, and I lit my cigar

a mistake?

"Dear yes!" chimed in Mamma; escape for your friend, Mr. Ellis! he been killed."

"what an might have

He killed, indeed! what had he to do with it? What had I to do with the upset? I hadn't driven an inch; that scoundrel Hensley had never acknowledged his share of the business; and from seeing myself and Ellis (who, of course, had thrown it all from his own shoulders) together in the gig, they had naturally laid down the accident to my charge.

(perhaps some fastidious one may blame me for this, but it is a great aid to quiet contemplation, and the old columns look more airy through the curling smoke), and I forgot Ellis and Emily, or, if she crossed my mind at all, it was not the Emily on the Southampton pier, but some bright fairy thing as my dreams had ere now pictured her. And the afternoon stole away, and the sky in the west began to grow red, and then-oh, gross interruption! We must eat and drink! But why will English people eat and drink in old abbeys? The light laugh of childhood rings not discordantly through the old arches: but if the laugh must be coupled with the tinkling of tea-spoons and the rattling of china, away with the child, say we. We may watch the yellow wheat wave through the lancet, and hear the lowing of the kine, and see their forms steal slowly round "Mrs. Baverstock," said my tormentor, "don't you the broken columns; but let us have no bread-andthink he ought to be punished? We might borrow a butter within their time-hallowed precincts. hint from the Ancient Mariner's Albatross, and hang least, so say I, Charles Carleton, and so thought I on the splash-board round his neck; he might fancy it that evening, for I fled from the cool shades, and an heraldic shield, and have his cognizance embla-paced my horse slowly back to Southampton. zoned on it. What say you, Carleton, to a gigwheel volant?"

It was a paltry revenge to expose Hensley, but I should undoubtedly have done so, but Ellis saw my intention, and stopped me. No one would listen to me when he spoke; and I was manifestly in an ill-temper, which did no good to my

cause:

At

Now, Reader, you who are always so quick to find some fault in your author, so sharp in discovering an inconsistency, I dare say you have said to yourself, "How absurd this is! What does the man mean by calling Ellis a splendid fellow, and lauding him to the skies in Chapter I, and in Chapter II. confessing himself the victim of that same Ellis's heartless raillery?" Softly, friend, I am giving you a page from my journal, and giving you my own feelings as they

There are bounds to the sea, though poets call it boundless there are bounds to a Job-like patience, a point beyond, which endurance cannot last. That point I had reached. The next thing of which I was conscious was, finding myself on horseback, at a stretch gallop, I knew not where. A forest-fly attacked my steed, and he kicked, and reared, and plunged. I liked it; I should have enjoyed an un-arose; and therefore you have no right to question : broken, fiery dragon, my determined passion was so great; and I was even angry when, by some accident, the fly was dislodged, and my horse's proceedings became more calm. I jumped from his back, gave him to a boy to lead, turned from the road, and found myself in-Netley Abbey,

"High arch'd and ivy claspt, Of finest Gothic, lighter than a fire."

as our friend Tennyson sings.

Reader, if you are ever driven to the verge of madness-if an Ellis (I dare say most of us know one) torment you to extremities-if your Emily join in the attack and laugh at your misery-if you are within twenty miles,-buy, borrow, or steal a horse, and gallop to Netley Abbey: I'll defy you to be in a rage there. Be the waters of your mind ever so troublous, the oil of that old abbey's peaceful calmness will flow gently over them, and all will be still. Were I about to be arrested for debt, I would hie me there, if I could, and write to my pursuing captor the trite laconic saying,

"Come and take me."

"Netley Abbey.

Even hand-cuffs there would lose their pressure, and be soft as silken velvet. I make no attempt to describe thee, fair ruin! first, because I could not do thee justice, and next, because all should see thee for themselves. And I stretched myself on the

if Ellis had chosen to get up a perfect holocaust of my feelings, I may consider him a splendid fellow still. Besides, we must not judge individually and selfishly; for one person that he was putting to annoyance, he was thoroughly delighting the remainder of a large party: he did me no real injury by his conduct, and perhaps my ruffled temper deserved a little rallying. To take up a shield before you are attacked, often suggests the weapons to your adversary but I am very tender upon Ellis's character, and should not like him to be fallen upon unprotected. And I must indeed have been unforgiving had I held out, when, out of breath with pursuing me down the High Street, after I had left my horse at the stables, he laid his hand on my shoulder, and in his own cheerful manner told his tale:

"Come, Charley, your friends are waiting dinner for you; I said I could not join them unless I could find you. If I had had the least idea you would be so annoyed, I would never have alluded to that stupid gig. Never mind, old fellow, I've made every reparation, and told the whole truth, and Hensley has had many a hard hit; he deserves it too: but he has got his polite dignity armour on, and bears it all unmoved. I'm so glad I've found you! I was just off to give notice to the drags to be in readiness to act at a moment's notice.-Bravo! they've waited dinner!" and he pointed to an upper window of an hotel, where the party had assembled.