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I know not indeed the rhythm of any verse that comes so richly to the ear as the following reveillée :"

“ Up! quit thy bower, late wears the hour;

Long have the rooks caw'd round thy tower ;
On flower and tree, loud hums the bee;
The wilding kid sports merrily :
A day so bright, so fresh, so clear,
Shineth when good fortune's near.

Up ! Lady fair, and braid thy hair,
And rouse thee in the breezy air ;
The lulling stream, that sooth'd thy dream,
Is dancing in the sunny beam;
And hours so sweet, so bright, so gay,
Will waft good fortune on its way.”

66 And this too reminds one of Milton's L’Allegro :"

“ Wish’d-for gales the light vane veering,
Better dreams the dull night cheering;
Lighter heart the morning greeting,
Things of better omen meeting ;
Eyes each passing stranger watching,
Ears each feeble rumour catching,
Say he existeth still on earthly ground,
The absent will return, the long, long lost be found.

In the tower the ward-bell ringing,
In the court the carols singing ;
Busy hands the gay board dressing,
Eager steps the threshold pressing,
Open'd arms in haste advancing,
Joyful looks through blind tears glancing;

The gladsome bounding of his aged hound,
Say he in truth is here, our long, long lost is found.

Hymned thanks and beedsmen praying,
With sheath'd sword the urching playing ;
Blazon'd hall with torches burning,
Cheerful morn in peace returning ;
Converse sweet that strangely borrows
Present bliss from former sorrows;

O who can tell each blessed sight and sound,
That says, he with us bides, our long, long lost is found !"

“There is another still better, though perhaps not so concisely expressed; but what it may want of that antique air, which I so much like, is amply made up by the greater unity of the subject, and the brief and beautiful description in the second stanza :"

“ Where distant billows meet the sky,

A pale dull light the seamen spy,
As spent they stand and tempest-tost,
Their vessel struck, their rudder lost;
While distant homes where kinsmen weep,
And graves full many a fathom deep,
By turns their fitful, gloomy thoughts pourtray:
''Tis some delusion of the sight,
Some northern streamer's paly light.'

Fools !' saith roused Hope with gen'rous scorn,
• It is the blessed peep of morn,
And aid and safety come when comes the day.'

And so it is ; the gradual shine
Spreads o'er heaven's verge its lengthen'd line :
Cloud after cloud begins to glow
And tint the changeful deep below;

Now sombre red, now amber bright,
Till upward breaks the blazing light;
Like floating fire the gleamy billows burn:
Far distant on the ruddy tide,
A black’ning sail is seen to glide;
Loud bursts their eager joyful cry,
Their hoisted signal waves on high,
And life and strength and happy thoughts return,”

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PRINCE EUGENE. 66 GENERAL history is, after all that may be said about its dignity, but the index to biography," was the observation with which Egeria laid down the Memoirs of Prince Eugene. In this little work, the great affairs in which the Prince bore so distinguished a part appear now but as the incidents of his personal adventures. One thinks as little of the battles of Blenheim and Oudenarde in these pages, as of the frolics of Tom Jones, or of Roderick Random, in the novels of Fielding and Smollett.”

“ I have heard it surmised,” replied the Bachelor, " that the book is not authentic."

- In the strictest sense of the term,” said the Nymph, “ perhaps it may be so, but, philosophically speaking, I would say, that, by whomsoever it may have been written or compiled, it is assuredly authentic. The spirit and vivacity with which it is drawn up are so admirably conceived, that the author seems to have possessed himself of the very nature and character of the Prince-if he was not the Prince himself. But however that may have been, this is an excellent piece of personal history. It is written with a cheerful and masterly candour. Every thing is treated with freedom and energy; and there is throughout a tone of decision, as well as of enthusiasm, which I think particularly engaging. Can any thing be more brisk and worldly, yet withal, simple, than the preface ?"

“ Some historians, good or bad, will probably take the trouble of entering into the details of my youth, which I no longer remember. At all events, they will speak of my mother; a little too intriguing, to be sure; driven from the Court, exiled from Paris, and suspected, I believe, of sorcery, by people who were no great conjurers. They will tell, too, how I was born in France, and how I left it, burning with fury against Louis XIV. who refused me a company of cavalry, because, he said, I had too weak a constitution ; and an abbey, because he pretended (on I do not know what stories respecting me, current in the gallery of Versailles) that my vocation was rather to pleasure than piety. But, however that was, no Huguenot, banished by the revocation of the edict of Nantes, ever cherished a stronger hatred against him: and when Louvois said, on hearing of my departure, “It is all the better, he will never see France again,'-I vowed that I never would, except as a conquering enemy-and I KEPT MY WORD. I have seen it on more sides than one; and it has not been my fault if I have not penetrated farther. But for the English, I should have given law in the capital of the Grand Monarque, and shut up his MAINTENON in a convent for life!”

“ The same gay nonchalance pervades the whole work. Take, for example, his account of the battle of Staffarde :"

“ The ministers of the Emperor had promised to let me have seven thousand men, to support Victor Amadeus. I knew the slowness with which every thing is decided and ordered at Vienna ; and, eager to engage the French, whom I had never yet seen opposed to me, I went to join the Duke of Savoy at his camp of Villa Franca. - You are in good time,' said he ; 'I am just going to give battle to Catinat.'-—' Then you must take care of your movements,' said I ; ' he is an excellent general, and commands the old troops, the flower of the French infantry. Your's are new levies, and mine are not yet come up.'— What does that signify?' said the Duke ; ' I know the country better than Catinat: to-morrow I shall advance with my army to the Abbey of Staffarde. Instead of making the attack, however, we had to sustain it. The right wing, where the Duke was placed, was attacked in front. The French wing crossed marshes which were believed to be impracticable; and after having turned, and beaten ours, both their wings united, and fell upon our left, where I commanded. I made my retreat in as good order as I could ; and in the rear-guard, composed of gendarmes, and the lifeguards of Savoy, I was slightly wounded by a spent ball. I did not choose to remind my dear cousin of his presumption, or my prediction; but I endeavoured to repair matters a little, at least in point of glory; for, some time after, I had the good fortune to cut off a large detachment, which had pillaged Tivoli. It fell into an ambuscade, from which, hearing the French coming, who sung to the utmost stretch of their throats, I sallied out to fall upon them. I scolded my soldiers for treating the prisoners à la Turque. But they had been so

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