Mn. JAMES'S HENRY OF GUISE.

TDB lid iOU ii rather en improvement upon the atithor'a Liter ...forks. It displaya, indeed, Mr. Jastiaa's natural defects of mechan- ism and heaviness; but it is written with more care than SOIlle of his last pieces, which \rem crude and hasty ; and, having gotten 'history to assist him, the author is enablod to impart more in- terest and variety to his pages than when lie has to produce all his

efTheta by the creations of his own fancy.

The character of Mr. Jamas, as a writer of' historical romance, may be judged by one circumstance—his romance wearies ; it is the history which attracts. For his lovers, ladisa, and villains, we have sitadi concern. Sontet:V■ICS they weary, ;4)11(26111es they bore us; and though now and theo a claptrap situation or a well-contrived turn of fortune may move for a little while. yet the dead weight of the author's poppria soon overpowers the excitement. The results of his travel and reading have greater value. Mr. Jamas paints with force mid distinctness the le:attires of the country and the customs of' the time.. His sketches of historical persons and events are intbrining in a general view, and sometimes exact in particulars ; doscriptions of architecture, mins, and COS- twovs, are richt and picturoatue, though Iheral and heavy ; but his histm icol romance is lucre history, somewhat niiaplaced. The writer's want of imagination, and perhsps his official responsibility as His- toriographer to the Queen, may prevent any gross fidsilications of re- corded truth ; but the necessities of his story compel hint to colour characters as best suits his pumps; and he is deficient in that high (jollity of genius which morks by a few touches the essential cha- racteristics oft:Nonage': and events rendering the statesman who knew no more of' English history than what he had read in SP.Ale- t.,..E's Plays, not so much out after all. Nor has Jamns the art which Sown- posseo . cd, of givitig animation and reality to his characters, impressing their individuolity upon the mind though historical truth was perverted. The persons of Mr. JAMES are probably drawn with great accuracy from history, biography, and paintings; but they are celd and lifeless as wax-work figures; re- gasded with curiosity while betbre us, not altogether forgotten when passed, but never haunting na like it living creation or spon- taneously rising to the mind. Neither does he embody the spirit of the age whilat narrating its fiefs. The dress, the phraseology, the deeds, are those of an earlier period ; but the sentiments and characters—in short, the mind, is that of' our own day. If the reader would fully comprehend what we mean, let hint peruse an inferior remittance professing to paint Oriental or Turkish subjects, and then turn to Faasne's fictions, CONOLLY'S travels, or sonic other writer who has drawn front the life : he will find villany and cruelty enough in each picture, but how different is the actual tyrant and villain from the melodramatic monsters of a fancy run wild I The scene of Henry of Chilse is France during the wars of the League, in the time of' Henry the Third. The hero of the his- tory, and of the romance too, is the Ihnions Duke of Guise who assisted at the massacre. of St. Bartholomew, and who, by a sort

Tilt RATIONALE OF GARDENING.

luxury of the present age has perhaps made no greater progress than I ti ti.c cultivation of flowers; autl in nothing, perhaps, bas it produced its usual tilt of depriving men a tile st'eet as'St ol slip1 :city, nuire than in our enjoy,- I.eat of ;Ione sweetest of the carLl.'s children. I liven foridd that we should lose any of the: many bright ts1 beautifill blossoms chich have beeli added se abundem;ly to our stock within the last few year-: : Laving possessed them, we canuol. m without pain ; anti perhaps the very variety we receive a Qmnp...-ation for the something that is lust. But yet there can be no doubt that its I h..,irs ,,ent dav we do not tea the same keen pleasure and enjoyment en our thronging with ten thousand flower,. which men did in those old days, V. hen I LV hut the tat ice plants of the soil had .,ait received cultivation. At ;Ale thile that we are now speakiog of, the attention of men in general v stroni;ly turned in France to the cuhivation of their gardens; and Da of Mans, was ahout tiwt very period importing from foreign countrie, tomtit odes uf those plants which are in general supposed to be indige- nous to tie country. One of the first efforts in the art of gardenino. had been to mut:rely those shrubs, wloen, toough not, as generally supposed,tudecolunus, retain them leaves and th..yir colouring through the colder parts of the year, amid. eocer the frozen limbs of winter with the green gatmenture of the spring. Amongst the next efforts that took place, were those directed to the production of flowers and fruits at seasons of the year when they are denied to us by tics common course of 1:attire; and any little miracles of this sort, which front day to day were achieved, gave a greater degree of pleasure Bum we can probably cmceive at this time, when such things are of daily occurrence.

TIIE TOUCHSTONE OF EVIL.

The ttlind of a litre and high-souled woman is tI.e most terrible touchstone whidt the conversation of any man can meet with. If there be baser inatter in it, however stroor and specious may be the gilding, that test is sure to dis- cov,r it. We mi-tai:e greatly, I Inn sure, when we think that the simplicity of innocence ■leprives us of the power of detecting evil. We may know its ex- isteoce, though we do not know its particular uature ; and our own purity, like Wanders slim:role:trete the ii, c'.11011 under whatever shape he lurks. A LANDSCAPE OF sonyitr.n.N FRANCE.

It was a- wild tout muntry on the borders of the ancient Ardennes, with the scene continually varying in minor points, but never chattoaing the charact..... of roteift, solitary.n.-aitre, which that part of 1:'rance, and indeed many oavr .1551-1,, at lhat time du:nived. Here the ground was rocky mid maim- -.hooting uup iota hill hills covered with old wools; there, smooth and N% !IL the feet of the 'ailment' oaks carpeted with green turf. Then m:s5:mim. etc ,le.r tIlls, an,1and ravine.,, dingles, so thick that the boar could se..reely force his w.:y through the bushes; and tlwn the trees fell back, nod left the wild stream wanilerhor through gremt meadows, or sporting tunongst the mas,es of stone. If is village appeared, it was perched high up above the road, as if afinid of tho pr.ssiog strangers; if a cottage, it was nestedill the brown wood, and scarcely. to lie distinguished frOM 'the surrounding sl the sweet Blinn that haunt lend< The air w,ri now as watml ;is May, and, the first vireant of summer had eteile thrth: the birds were tuning their earliest soo:,s: the flowers were gathering, round the roots of the trees, and, the branches above them were making an effort, though but faint, to cast away the brown cloak of winter, and put on the green garmenture of the spring. The net sunshitie was clear and Smiling. Pouring from under a light cloud, which covered a part of the sky, it streamed ill amongst the bolls amid. branches of the trees ; it gilded the green turf, anmi danced upon the yellow tst uuke im ltd what between the wild music of the Idackliird and the thrush and tl:e woodlark. tile flowers upon tlte ground, the Itah»iness of the air, the spring sunshine, and the ye:i.eethl scene. Charles of Montioreau felt his sorrows softeLcd ; and though not less deeply melancholy than beihre, yet owned the intinenee of that season, which is so near akin to youth and hope, and rode on with a vague but sweet feeling that hright:r hours might come.

The character of the Duke of Guise, though correct enough in mere physical matters—in person, bearing, and bravery—is softened or heightened, as occasion requires, in all that concerns morals or politics. Mr. JAMES has probably taken his idea of historical roatance-writing from the canon upon epitaphs, which directs the suppression of vices or crimes—"proscription should find no place upou the tomb of Augustus." Here is the first introduction of his hero upon the scene. A "PERSONAGE" INCOG. Al' AN INN.

lie was a man of about :ix or seven and thirty years of age, and, as he now stood befiwe Charles of Montsoreau it his full height, appeared to the eyes of the voting nohleman one of the most powerful Mell he lent ever beheld. His chest was at once broad and ding, his limbs muscular and long, the head small, the flanks ti do. and flue foot and hand svell formed. Every iudwation was there of great strength and great activity ; and the countenance also harmonized per- fectly well with the figure, the broad high forehead giving that air of a powerful and active mind which we are all, whether physiognonnsts or not, inclined by nature to see in the-expanse which covers and seems to represent the great in- strument of the human intellect. Ile wore the mustachio somewhat rung, and the teed pointed, but small. The eyes were large and fine, the eyebrows of retributive justice, was himself assassinated by his sovereign. The historical events embodied in the tale are the Barricades of Paris in 1:7138, when the citizens, impelled by Guise, revolted against the King; the general state of the country, devastated by civil wars and foreign mercenaries, and the plague they probably. produced ; together with the murder of Guise by the order and almost in the presence of Henry. The subordinate historical per- sonages are the monarch himself, his mother Catherine of Medici; the ministers and courtiers, and the rival party leaders of the period. The manner in which these things are connected with the tale is not ill-planned ; two brothers of a noble house filling in love with the niece of the Duke of Guise, and being stimulated by circumstances, disposition, and the artifices of a tutor, the villain of the romance, to take opposite sides. The execution, however, niers the plan : where the title is probable, it, "like a wounded snake, drags it slow length along ; " where the author endeavours at exciting, he is improbable. Not only is the story subordinate to the history, but Mr. JA3.1ES seems purposely to make it so, su-pcioling the narrative of his tale to narrate the deeds of the Barricades, or any other public circumstance.

We have noted one test of this author's romance; another is, that the best and most truthful parts of it are isolated—not perhaps alien to the %vork, but capable of removal without injury, and some!.

times with Leneflt, giving- rapidity to the narrative. Such are most of the reflections, and many of the descriptions ; as in some of these extracts.

strongly marked; the nose was beautifully formed, displaying the wide ex- pansive nostril, generally reckoned a sign of generous feelings ; and though there was a cut upon his brow scarcely healed, and a deep scar in his cheek, of a More remote date, yet they did not at all detract front the handsomeness of' the countenance, which, notwithstanding the plainness of his dress and appearance, was peculiarly striking and attractive.

A FRENCH MINISTER. OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.

" One of the first of those whom you will see near the person of the King— the man who governs and rules him to his own infinity and destruction, in whose hands the minions are but tools and. Henry all instrumeut—who, more than anyone else, has tended to change a gracious prince, a skint general, and a brave man, into an effeminate and vicious king—is Rene'. de Villequier, Baron of Clairvaut. He was first cousin to Marie de Clairvaut's dither; and he is consequently lies nearest male relation out of the family of Guise. Ile has in- deed sometimes hinted at a right to share in time guardianship of his cousin's daughter. But such things a Guise permits not. However, with this claim upon the disposal of her land, thenry may, perhaps, hesitate to yield her, un- less with the consent of Villequier. With him, then, yon may be called upon to deal ; but Villeyder, I think, knows the hand of a Guise too well to call down a blow from it unnecessarily. However, he is as daring as he is artful ; and impunity in crime has rendered him perfectly careless or committing it. He is Governor of Paris, one of the King's Ministers, a Knight of the holy Ghost. Now hear what lie has done to merit all this. More than one assassin broken on the wheel has avowed himself the instrument of Villequier, sent to administer poisolm to those he did not love. Complaisant in every thing to his King, he sought to sacrifice to hint the honour of his wile; hut she differed from him in her tastes; and, on the eighteenth of last September, in broad daylight, in the midst of an effeminate court, he murdered her with his own

Laud, at her dressing-table. or was this all there was a girl, a young sweet girl, the natural dargliter of a noble house, WI10 Was holding Lc! ire the un- happy lady a mirror to arrange her dress when the fatal blow AV:IS St ruck. The fiend's taste for blood was roused. One victim was not enough ; and he mur- dered the wretched girl by the side of her dead mistress. This was done in open day, was never disowned, was known to every one, and was rewarded by the order of the Holy Ghost—an insult to God, to France, and to humanity. However, as with this man you may have to deal, I have to give you two Cautious. Never drink wine with him, or eat food. at his table ; never go into his presence without wearing under your other dress the bosom friend which I have brought you there ; "—and he took from the leathern skin in which it was wrapped, a shirt of nrail, made of rim's linked together, so fine that it seemed the lightest stroke would have broken it, and yet so strong that the best-tem- pered. poniard, driven by the most powerful hand, could not have pierced it. " Have also in your bosom," continued the Duke of Guise, " a small pistol; and if the villain attempts to lay his hand upon you, kill him like a dog. This is the only way to deal with Rea de Villequier."