NEW BOOKS.

F/CTION,

Grattan's Jacqueline of Holland

3 DCoitltbourn and Bentley.,

COlifiESPONDENCS,

Garrick's Private Correspondence EDUCATION, Booth's Principles of English Composition. Cochrane and Pickersgill.

TOPOC P.AP UV,

Andrews's Guide to Southampton Groombridge.

POETRY,

Lee Torre's Translation of Oxford Prize Poems Valpy.

THE SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

Jacqueline of Holland is another of Mr. GRATTAN'S readings of history. It is a romance, founded upon the life of a princess whom the chroniclers have chosen to describe in very different terms from those which it has suited Mr. GRATTAN to select. The novel-writer is in fact the apologist of a lady much maligned by historians ; who, while they agree in most of the facts having taken place which are dwelt upon by the novelist, give them a wholly different turn, and assign motives of a very opposite nature to the persons implicated in them. Jacqueline of Bavaria, Countess of Holland and Hainan% the wife of John Duke of Brabant, the cousin of Philip the Good of Burgundy, is affianced, before the death of her husband, to Hum- phrey D Like of Gloucester, the popular brother of Henry the Fifth.* This gallant prince assists his affianced bride with a force of some thousands of men, while he is at the same time playing her false with Elinor Cobham, his mistress, and afterwards his duchess. Jacqueline, however, not to be outdone by the duke,—but all in the most innocent manner possible, as it is explained by Mr. GRATTAN, —falls in love with a young man in the forest of Drent, who saves her from the attack of a terrible wild beast, the urns or orox, at that time known in the woods of the North. The youth is name- less, but it seems he is of a noble bearing; and Jacqueline presents him with her girdle, and in return receives the impression of his fea- tures on her heart. On this mysterious attachment turns the story. The youth is a noble, bound to the party sworn to oppose the inte- rests of the princess: it is in this opposition of feelings and connexions that the necessary ravel of motives and incidents is properly per- plexed ; and the confusion is so successfully confounded, that we should vainly endeavour in a short compass to trace its leading threads. It is sufficient to know, that Jacqueline, after having lost her kingdom, finds a husband in the hero of the forest ; and, after being on the point of also losing him, is at length restored to both, by the intervention of a storm and a few dykediggers. This catastrophe is one of the most monstrous that we think ever en- tered into the brain of a novelist. The hero and heroine are being led captive near Dordrecht, when four devoted dykediggers let in the waters as the cavalcade is passing, drown the whole escort, and immerge seventy villages and.a wide tract of country in the roaring ocean,—taking care to direct the party favoured to a high mound of protection ; on which mound, amid the mighty storm of waters and the destruction of every thing else, the denouement takes place. On this terrific spot Philip the Good invests his now pardoned prisoner with the order of the golden fleece, and endows him with all sorts of honours, at a time when it might have been supposed the world and all its follies and vanities would appear in their proper light. In other respects, Jacqueline of Holland does not materially differ from other romances of the same period. There are single combats and battles, composed of a confusion of duels; there is chivalry and all its punctilios ; there are courts, half courtly and half barbarous ; with changes of scene to the dungeon, the loneliness of the forest, or the bustle of a besieged burgher town. The cha- racters of notorious kings and chieftains are laid open to view, by the omniscient pen of the novelist ; and all the affairs of Europe are developed, as if the writer had moved the puppets of the time, as lie does his knights and bishops on the chess-board. Mr. GRATTAN is one of those authors whose talents we cannot deny, but whose works we do not peruse with pleasure. His style is one of perpetual exaggeration ; there is no repose in his descriptions ; there is little probability in his incidents ; the hue of nature is nowhere spread over his canvass. And yet, in the conception of character, he has originality, and sometimes, in the painting of insulated scenes, a vigour and energy which only re- quire to be tempered with discretion to produce a powerful effect on the mind.

The navel of Jacqueline is perhaps the least well-knit of any of his performances in this line of fiction. Scenes are introduced at great length, which have but little relation to the story ; and the persons of the drama are shuffled about from one part of the world to another, in a manner more like hocus-pocus than reality; and are hurried through, from event to event of importance, without the reader being able to discern the connexion of circumstances that binds them together. In case of imperfect success attending this and similar efforts of our author's imagination, he proposes to return to his Highways and Byways ; and we shall be glad of it. Mr. GRATTAN has s taste for the picturesque, and has skill in combining the incidents of a tale with the description of scenery and the narration of his- torical and other anecdotes. Of the incidents introduced into jacqiieiline of Holland, for the i purpose of illustrating manners, one of the most novel of its kind, • History, however, tells us that she was not only married to him, bat lived. with him some years. and which is as well described as more knightly combats usually are, is a trial by battle between two burghers of Hesdin, before Philip Duke of Burgundy. It is worth extracting, as well for the sake of the curiosity of the incident, as the spirit of the narrative.

" The combat for life and death between Jacotin Plouvier and Nicholas lVfavot was the subject of universal curiosity, and a species of wild inte- rest, to almost every individual in the town and castle of Hesdin. It was fixed for the hour of noon on the day following the scenes we have just described. Long before that hour, the lists had been prepared in the market-place of the town, fronting the site where the Hotel de Ville was subsequently erected, by Sebastian Oya, architect to the Emperor Charles V. The place where that edifice now stands was on this occasion

occupied by a covered wooden pavilion hastily erected for the accommo- dation of Duke Philip and the princes his guests, with some others ad- joining; for the courtiers and officers of the,shousehold. These stands,' as we "'familiarly call such erections, were hung with cloth of various colours, filled up with as much care as could be given on such short pre

paration. But neither the time nor the occasion allowed or warranted any approach to such magnificence of decoration as was displayed in honour of the jousts and tournaments, on which the scene about to be enacted was a farce, and to modern notions, a disgusting parody. But the immense crowds, collected from the towns and villages for leagues around, who had heard of the affair during the night, now filled the wide area of the market-place v. ith a lively exhibition of human anxiety, in a matter that involved excitements a thousand times greater than the most elegant display of chivalry. And there was something desperately awful in the absence of every thing imposing, and the presence of all that was impressive, in the preparations for the deadly conflict. The coarsely-con- structed arena was thick-strewn with sand ; the palings that surrounded it were rough and rude ; two chairs covered with black cloth were placed at either end ; the huts outside the lists which contained the almost savage men were of the commonest materials, little better than styes for swine ; while opposite the duke's pavilion was a high gibbet, from which a rope dangled down ; and a dark-visaged hangman stood beneath, holding the noose in his impatient hand.

"Just as the clock of St. Mary's church struck out the deep• sounding notice of noon, the trumpets of Duke Philip announced his entrance into the tower ; and in a few minutes he and his suite of friends and followers took the various places assigned for them. No parade of majesty beyond the official troop of attendants accompanied Philip on this occasion. He came in the mere character of a spectator ; and the solemnity of his black suit and the stern calmness of his look, in which he seemed the model for all those around him, harmonized well with the awful feelings of the crowd. No ladies appeared in the pavilion. Their absence was occa- sioned, not by the ferocity, but by the vulgarity of the expected exhibi- tion. Had it been gentlemen that were to fight, and noble blood that was to flow, the tender dames of the fifteenth century had not shrunk from, but would have anxiously thronged to the scene. But the total want of every thing softening or graceful left the spectators to the uncurbed ex- posure of man's natural fierceness.

" The provost of the town, Mercio du Gardin, and Messire Gilles de Harchies, a gentleman appointed for the day to the same office on the part of the duke, acted as judges, and took their station in a balcony close to the lists. At a signal from Philip that he was ready, a bell was rung, for the combatants werenot honoured with a flourish of trumpets, and the doors of the huts were simultaneously opened and the men led to their respective chairs. Mavot looked wild and haggard, his adversary deter- mined and fierce—but the countenances of both were stamped with the air of desperation, natural to men on the point of a struggle which must end in the death of one or the other.

" The whole appearance of these men had something frightfully lu- dicrous ; and the crowd on seeing them could not resist a murmur of laughter, which rose above the exclamation of horror that mingled with it, For a tight dress of leather enveloped each; showing the form of limbs and body with the accuracy of complete nudity; their feet were naked, their nails cut close, and their heads shaved. They stared on each other with an expression of mutual surprise and disgust ; and re- collecting that each was a resemblance of the other, they simultaneously started back, as if they would shrink from the reflection of their own disfigurement. They .sat down on the chairs, and waited the progress of the ceremony, while the provosts raised their truncheons and called out to the indecorous crowd with a loud voice, Guare le Ban !'—a technical warning of magical effect, for it produced an instant silence among the people, who dreaded the punishment that was sure to follow an infraction of the order it implied.

" Some of the corporate officers now entered, with attendants bearing various matters. Two of them placed in the hand of each champion a bannerol of devotion emblematic of .their respective saints ; and a functionary, holding a large illuminated mass-book with silver clasps, proposed the customary oaths, with true official indifference to the per- jury which one or the other of necessity committed. Mavot swore that he killed his enemy fairly ; and Plouvier swore that he did the deed foully. The impatience of the spectators was 'quickly relieved by the more deci- sive tokens of the approaching combat. To each of the men was now handed a triangular wooden shield, painted red, the apex of which they were obliged to hold upwards, instead of bearing it in the more natural and efficient manner common to knights and soldiers. Then the banne- rols were replaced by two maple • sticks of equal length and weight, and each a most deadly weapon in the grasp of a desperate man. The chairs were removed outside the lists; and the final ceremony of preparation took place.

" This was of a nature to call forth the exercise of all the provost's authority to repress the laughter of the crowd, and to put to a severe test the decorum of the better-mannered spectators. Close beside each champion was placed a copper vessel filled with grease; and a groom seiz- ing each with one arm immediately fell to work to smear him over in every part with the slippery unction, so as to make it quite impossible that either could catch hold of his adversary with any chance of retain- ing him for an instant.

Next was brought forward two basins of ashes, in which each man Carefully plunged his hands and rubbed them well, removing the grease And allowing a steady grasp of shields and cudgels. And then was put into the mouths of both, coarse sugar, to refresh them in the course of the combat, keep them in wind, and afford a supply of saliva—for such were the supposed qualities of the remedy. •

" The attendants now retired ; and one of the provosts standing up in bis balcony, flung down a glove into the arena, and cried loudly-

" 'Let each man do his duty !' " A rush forward towards the paling, which bent inwards with the pressure of the throng, straining, jumping, pushing and squeezing, and Causing, consequently, a general disappointment to individual efforts, proved ihe anxiety of the people to witness the first assault. It instantly

took place; Plouvier, who was strong and athletic, rushed forward with the vigour of a wild beast bounding on its prey. It seemed as if the next moment must have decided the fate of the short and crooked,/but still active being to whom he was opposed ; and had Mavot waited the attack, such had no doubt been the result. But as Plouvier came close to him and raised his arm to strike, he shifted his cudgel into his left hand, held up his shield, and, stooping down, seized a fistfull of sand, which he dexterously flung full into his enemy's face. Shouts of applause and laughter burst from the people at this unheroic stratagem, and were loudly renewed as Plouvier strove to rub the sand from his eyes, while Mavot plied him with fresh showers of the subtle missive, and accompa- nied every discharge with a stroke on the legs, which made the other caper about in a double dance of pain and rage, alternately stooping his hand to rub his shins, or raising it to relieve his eyes.

" Plouvier dealt round furious blows at random, but enough to keep aloof a bolder assailant than his ; and, by degrees, he freed his eyes from the sand. Then measuring the distance between him and his prey, he darted forward and attempted to seize Mavot by the arm. But the greasy member slipped through his hold, and several similar efforts met the same result, the crooked man twisting and twining awaywith most ludi- crous attitudes of active deformity. Plouvier gasped for breath, and dashed the foam from his mouth; while Mavot, seizing the opportunity of his exhaustion, aimed one blow at his stoopins, head, with such sure effect, that the blood spouted from his brow and stooping down his face, while he staggered back and fell to the earth apparently senseless.

" To finish the victory he was thus rapidly gaining, Mavot limped after his victim, encouraged by the shouts of his friends. `Long live Nicholas Mavot, free burgess of Hesdin was the cry from all quarters ; and the hitherto triumphant man flourished his cudgel for joy. He approached the prostrate enemy, and raising the weapon high, seemed to search the most vital part for its descent, when Plouvier, who had met trick with trick, and only feigned insensibility, sprung upwards with a galvanic bound, and before the deliberate homicide could elude his grasp, he seized him by the throat with both hands, squeezed and shook him with giant force, then flung him on the sand, and with half.a-dozen well-dealt blows left him a corpse. " He gazed at him for a while to mark that his struggles were over. Then, amidst a profound silence from the astonished and horror-stricken crowd, he raised the body in his arms, and advancing to one side of the lists he flung it over the paling, at the hangman's feet, and under the gib- bet from which it was so soon to dangle.

"A loud shout of acclamation now burst from the crowd, who had re- covered from their momentary feeling of horror. Jacotin Plouvier for ever was now the cry ; and, amidst the boisterous greetings of the peo- ple, who rushed around from all sides, Duke Philip and his guests abruptly retired, disgusted at the scene, and somewhat ashamed to have been its witnesses."

We have spoken of Mr. GRATTAN'S defects in the concoction and conduct of his story ; but we have a still greater quarrel with him on the score of the vagueness and inaccuracy of his style,—a fault common both to the long and the short tales of this author. We will take a random example : " Her features were more strongly marked than those of mere girls in early youth ; yet they joined a bloom and freshness rarely found after the very sprin&-time of life, to a decided dignity that only belongs to woman- hood; and'her face displayed that harmonious brilliancy which can re- ceive the imprint of suffering without being withered by it."—Jacqueline of Holland, Vol. I. p. 3.

This is a description which runs trippingly off the tongue; and attention is become so rare a quality, that few persons will stay to consider whether they have derived an idea from it. We are ac- customed to consult the ear, and to be content with any form of words which gives but a plausible promise of meaning. An ana- lysis of this sentence, after the manner of Sutra and DOLIER'S system of instruction, would show even to children that Mr. GRATTAN's fine sentence was little better than nonsense.

"Her features were more strongly marked than those of mere girls in early youth." Now what is "a mere girl in early youth ?" —is it not a girl simply ? A girl in old age, is what is called an old girl ; but to say a mere girl in early youth, is like saying a mere sixpence of sixpenny worth of halfpence. Next for the features— the features were more strongly marked than in youth, and joined a bloom and a freshness to a decided dignity. How can features join or put together bloom and dignity ? The features of a face may be fresh and blooming—at least some of them may ; but hove can features be the instrument to join together bloom and dignity? We gather the meaning of the author, but assuredly not because his expressions even approach to accuracy. Then again, the fea- tures are more strongly marked than is found to be the case in early youth ; yet they join a bloom rarely found after the spring- time of life to a dignity belonging only to womanhood. Thus, these extraordinary features combine qualities peculiar to spring- time, to the period after early youth, and to womanhood. Now what are we to make of all these distinctions in the chronology of a young lady's features ? Again, her face displayed that harmonious brilliancy which can receive the imprint of suffering without being withered by it. Now what is that brilliancy that can receive the imprint of suffer- ing? Brilliancy arises from the reflection of radiance: how can a reflected radiance receive an imprint—and a peculiar imprint too —an imprint which cannot wither? who ever heard of a "wither- ing" imprint ? This inaccurate habit of heaping of words and metaphors toge- ther, is the vice of the present system of hasty writing, in which, if effect be attained, nothing more is cared for. This little speci- men happens not to be taken from any careless part of the story, but from the elaborate character of the heroine, on her first in- troduction.