desirable, we will not affect to decide; but, we trust, it not want materials-we cannot say much. The lanwill not be presumption to say-that unless some other guage, as we have already mentioned, is quaint, glitterand better aids be supplied, the ancient drama musting, and forced. There is a sad want of passion and remain for some time longer in its present state of abey-dramatic power about the piece. It is to be read, and ance. The truth is, that all attempts to revive any for- not to be acted; and even in the reading, we suspect it gotten form of literature, is, at once, puerile, tasteless, will be found rather heavy. A few specimens of the and vain. That which is excellent will not be forgotten. poetry are all we can afford. The following is a soliloThe dramatic writings of the age of Elizabeth, are the quy of Count Rosanna, in his exile. finest body of compositions which the literature of any "Howe'er the destinies of life be varied, country can boast. They have no affectation, nothing Whate'er be our condition, rich or poor, sophisticated about them; but are full of boldness, Whether the ermin'd resident of the palace, Or th' hungry habitant of the straw-built shedoriginality, and vigour. Their authors were men who Possess we not the birthright of our nature, thought and felt for themselves, and who expressed those Anxiety? Poetry loves, indeed, thoughts and feelings with great strength and energy-To paint the lowly peasant's lot thrice blest, with the most natural grace, and the most heartfelt deli- In the possessing innocence and peace: But is not life embitter'd? doth not fancy cacy. If Mr. Fitz-Eustace could transplant the spirit Force out the sprouts of envy-discontent? and essence of these glorious emanations of high intel- Doth he not cherish wishes mountain high? lect into the dramatic literature of our age, he would, Doth he not long for pow'r, and wealth, and greatness? indeed, render a vast service; but we feel no gratitude Deems he not the jewell'd robe a panoply Of adamantine proof, from whose texture for the mere copying-and faintly copying too-the The shafts of ev'ry ill would fall innocuous, outward form of those creations; the singularity of And he might bid defiance to the world? phrase, the glitter of conceit, and exuberance of Then all the peasant's bliss is outward semblance, imagery. These were part and parcel" of that age: The blooming of the ripe and bursting fruit, they were "germane" to the discourse of all society; The rich man sits full gorg'd with ev'ry dainty; While cank'ring care is feeding at the heart! and however affected in themselves, were, at least, unHe sees the glowing banquet set before him affected so far as regarded the manners of the times. To satiate that appetite he feels not! To revive them now is in very bad taste, and would The downy couch inviteth soft repose, And he will toss himself from side to side, deserve all our critical reprehension, if the offence did Like to a vessel on the vexed sea, not carry the punishment with it. The author of this Because the energies which he possesses play may rest assured that it will never do. Setting Are unemploy'd-because the labour's wanting, aside, therefore, this great mistake, we feel ready to give To make that banquet and that bed most sweet! him credit for some sweet verses, and many delicate senThe rich doth feel contempt for th' poor man's cares— In comparison they are contemptibletiments. The story of his play is not very original. It But to the poor untutor'd hind, his cares is a good deal like the "Tempest" and "Cymbeline" in Are great, or greater, than the rich man's are, those parts which relate to the banishment of the prin- Because he hath not sweet philosophy cipal characters. We have a Count Rosanna, who is Wherewith t' apply a balsam to his wounds. And I have learn'd t' attemper my hard lot, driven from Florence by a rival; and whose son is at- And soften its severity with those tached to that rival's daughter. Rosanna has a daugh- Same lessons I did learn when fortune smil'd ter, also beloved by Amaryllo, the Duke of Florence's Deceitfully upon me-when the shouts son. During the absence of the Duke in Palestine Of thousands greeted my approach-Enough Of that same theme. (Musing.) his title and honors have been usurped by Caracci, Oh poverty! to me thou wouldst be welcome, the enemy of old Rosanna.-He returns, (attended by And I could hug thee in wild desperation, the young Rosanna) and, in disguise, introduces him- Ev'n as a drowning wretch; for to thy guise self into the assemblies of Caracci, and becomes My brightest jewel, Cynthia; more dear, I owe my life, my liberty, my all, acquainted with his designs. The elder Rosanna is brought before the usurper for condemnation; but, just as sentence is to be pronounced, the rightful Duke discovers himself. Of course, the traitors, usurpers, villains, &c. are forgiven; their offences forgotten; and all the parties become fast friends. This is poetical justice we suppose! The recognitions are managed in a bungling way. Young Rosanna recognizes his Isabel at a glance; but she cannot, after an hour's conversation, detect him. The young Prince, and Miss Rosanna, make love to each other for a week as strangers, until, by mere accident, they discover that they are old lovers, and have been betrothed only a short time before. Indeed, of the plot-though it does

Than all of riches which this world contains!
O God! and 'tis for thee I grieve, my child,
That drives me on to madness! Oh! that thou
In abject poverty!
Should thus be doom'd to suffer, thus to live
Bless thee, my child-bless thee, Cynthia !"
COURTS.

"The court! said you the court?
Ay, honesty there starves for want of custom;
And modest virtue, with its famish'd cheeks,
Spits its vile scorn. The court! I hate the court!
With all its cold formalities and vices-
Its juggling tricks-its darksome policies-
Its narrow forms-and truth beseeming lies:-
Its sycophantic crowds-wherein the hero-
The flatterer of power-the mountebank-
The statesman-and the state-intriguing priest-

Of my idolatry-command thou my

Services to the death, my patron saint!'

Shifting its judgment by thy fortune's glare,

As madman's brains obey the changing moon:
Let the sky darken with an April show'r,
And it is scar'd-O fie! fie upon it!

It smelleth rank as hell!"

Wolsey, the Cardinal, and his Times; Courtly, Political, and Ecclesiastical. By GEORGE HOWARD, Esq. London: Sherwood and Co. 8vo. 1824.

WHATEVER may have been the necessity for a new biography of Wolsey, we are not disposed to believe that Mr. Howard was the fittest person to supply the

The following is pretty, and with it our extracts deficiency. After a very attentive perusal of his vo

must terminate.

O! my love is like to the nightingale,

That mournfully sitteth the live-long day;
But when night comes, with her starry veil,
Then she singeth her rapturous lay!
For then doth creep to her moonlit bower,

The knight whom she doteth upon!
And, 'midst the wild magic of that lone hour,

She whispers her tale to her own lov'd one!"

Past Events; an Historical Novel, of the Eighteenth Century. London: Moore. 3 vols, 8vo. 1824.

lunie, we find that it is nothing more than a compilation from sources generally known, and unaccompanied with any reflections or disquisitions which shed a new light upon the life of one of the most extraordinary persons whom history records. Mr. Howard appears to be a very superficial historian, and is contented with skimming over the surfaces of things without much ambition to penetrate into their causes and essence. Still his book is very entertaining, as indeed every book relating to "the proud Cardinal' must of necessity be. His principal object professes to be a more minute attention to personal biography, and to the peculiar customs and manners of the times. Now in the latter points, the work is singularly deficient: in the former it is more successful. Mr. Howard is certainly not a partial biographer, for he records the faults and virtues of his hero, with the utmost candour. He is not dazzled by the splendor of Wolsey's glory-nor won over to his cause by the variety and extent of his talents, but describes them both with a spirit of just impartiality, by no means common to biographers.

The general outlines of Wolsey's life are sufficiently well known. Our notice must be confined to a few loose, disjointed extracts, which may shew the felicity of the author's selections, or the manner in which he has reduced his compilations into consistency and form. The earlier years of Wolsey's life were distinguished by the diligence and success with which he prosecuted his studies, and the uncommon sedulousness he exhibited in all the arts of rising in the world. The following anecdote is a remarkable proof of the latter quality. Henry VII. had been advised to send Wolsey as a messenger to the Emperor Maximilian on some important affair :

WE have an objection to the title of this novel. It is not historical. It is entirely a fiction. With the exception of the localities, and a few of the namesit is a pure offspring of the author's imagination. But this is of itself praise, when, with all our carping critical propensities about us, we cannot find any greater fault in a work to be reviewed, than a mistake in the title page. The author is a practised writer, and handles his pen with great facility. The language is good, the style fluent, easy, and gentlemanly, and the management of the incidents and developement of the story, are both well and effectively contrived. In our restricted space we cannot abridge or analyze a narrative which fills three good sized octavos. The bare outline is all that we can give. It turns upon the fortunes of a young, lovely, and all-accomplished girl, who is taken up as a foundling, by a wealthy, kindhearted Spanish Grandee, educated and presented to the world as his niece. All the young Dons of Madrid became enamoured of her, but in vain. Her affections centre on Alfonso, a young officer of the Guards, the nephew and heir of her benefactor. The interest of the story turns upon the obstacles which her obscure origin interposes to prevent this marriage, and the attempts of a profligate young Grandee to carry her off from the family of her protector. Her adventures and sufferings are told with much probability and great force. Some of the scenes in the Pyrenees, and the voyage to and residence in Sicily, are written with a vigour and boldness scarcely inferior to some of the desire to distinguish himself upon this flattering opportubetter parts of Mrs. Radcliffe. She is at last disco-nity, Wolsey seems to have made up his mind to astonish vered to be indeed the niece of her benefactor, and the at least by his despatch, even if not successful in his diplodaughter of one of the noblest families of Naples. After matic exertions: accordingly, having taken his final auall the difficulties, usual in such cases, are surmounted, he embarked on board a Gravesend barge brought up the dience of leave at Richmond at four o'clock in the afternoon, she marries the heir of Albazetta, and all is happiness river for that purpose; and, with the help of wind and tide, and content. There are some lively pictures of Spa- reachd Gravesend in little more than three hours. Stopnish manners in this novel-which harmonize with the ping only for post horses, he set off between seven and general story, and assist in augmenting the interest of nearly equal to that of the present day, he arrived at Dover eight in the evening for Dover, and travelling with a speed the whole. the next morning at the very moment when the packet got

"The king was no sooner convinced of Wolsey's fitness for the embassy in question, than he gave him orders to prepare for it instantly, referring him to the king in counration of which, the new ambassador had frequent occasions cil for his commission and instructions; during the prepato repair, from time to time, into the royal presence, still further convincing Henry of his singular wisdom and sound judgment.

"With a heart swelling with ambition, and an anxious

under weigh. No time was now to be lost; he pushed off care and preparation, that not the slightest popular disto the packet, and before noon was safe on shore at Calais. pleasure was manifested, when it was understood that he Still pressing on, he waited only for post horses, and tra- was really prime minister; nor were they at all dissatisfied velled with such diligence, that at a late hour in the even- with the continuance of the war, which was now carried on ing he found himself at the residence of Maximilian, who, both by land and sea. But it was not alone to naval warhearing of the arrival of an ambassador from Henry, deter- fare, as a secondary consideration, that Wolsey directed his mined that no time should be lost in diplomatic formalities,views; for he had scarcely entered upon the active concerns for his affection to the king of England was such, that he of state, when he saw that the best defence of Britain, in was glad of any opportunitie to doe him a curtesie,' and di- the existing state of European politics, must be found in rected that Wolsey should instantly be admitted to the im- her navy. He also saw that much remained for England perial closet, who appears to have made good use of the to acquire on the new theatre of unexplored oceans; he occasion, stating clearly and eloquently the object of his saw that she was best capable of extending her domains in embassy, and craving speedy despatch thereon. In this he new worlds; and he saw that to acquire and preserve these was eminently successful, for every thing was settled early advantages, she must be mistress of the seas. He, therethe next day, all Henry's requests being granted, when he fore, encouraged the predilection which Henry seemed to again set off for Calais, where he arrived that night, accom- have for nautical affairs; and his earliest advice to him was panied by a splendid train of nobles from the emperor's to form a navy royal. In consequence of which, the Henry court to do him honour. At Calais, his arrival just took Grace de Dieu, a ship of the greatest burden ever built in place as the gates were opened at day-break, where he our ports, at that period, was laid on the stocks, and became found a packet ready to sail, from which he was landed at a favourite hobby of the young monarch, as appears from a Dover between ten and eleven o'clock in the forenoon, in letter of Wolsey to Fox, still extant." less than seventy hours after his departure from Richmond, where he arrived that night, and went quietly to bed until the morning.

6

"We must, however, do the Cardinal the justice of saying, that whenever the honour or interest of the country "No sooner did the king leave his bed-chamber, at an were at stake, and not in opposition to his own private early hour, to proceed to his closet to mass, than Wolsey views, he behaved with a degree of spirit highly honourpresented himself, when the king, little aware of what had able to him. This was particularly exemplified in the taken place, began to check him for his remissness in not course of the present year, when the merchants complained having already set off upon his embassy :- Sir,' Wolsey is loudly of their sufferings from the piratical proceedings reported to have replied if it may please your Highness, both of France and Germany, though England preserved I have already been with the Emperor, and despatched all the neutrality of one that wished to be a mediator. The your affairs, I trust, to your Grace's contentacion; and affair having been taken into deep consideration by the king thereupon he presented his sovereign with his letters of and council, the French ambassador was sent for, whom credence from the emperor. Having entered into all the Wolsey thus addressed:- Sir! how is this chance happarticulars, the king's wonder was strongly excited; but pened? You have promised ever, in the name of the king his majesty, for the present, dissembled his admiration and your master, that all leagues, promises, and covenants imagination in that matter, under the semblance of cold- should be kept, and that full restitution should be made of ness, if not of harshness, and demanded of him, if he had every hurt and damage, and that firm peace and amity met with a pursuivant who had been sent after him with || should be kept; but, contrary to your saying, our merletters, which concerned very material passages which chants be robbed and spoiled, yea, although he hath granted were omitted in their consultation, which the king ear- his safe conduct; yet they be robbed, and stayed at Bournestly desired should have been despatched in his ambas-deaux! Is this the peace that you and your master have promised to be kept? Is this the amity that he was sworn to keep? Is this the word of a king? Is this the strength of a prince to break his safe conduct? And where you advised our merchants to sue in France for restitution, and did warrant them to be restored, you have put them to cost and loss, for they have sued there long and spent their goods, without any redress; and now you have imprisoned them, and kept both them and their goods! Is this justice? Is this restitution? And all this was your procurement, and now see what is come of your promise! Surely this may not be suffered; and besides this, the king is informed that the king your master hath spoken by him foul and opprobrious words; yea in the hearing of the Englishmen, which were sore grieved to hear such words, and were not able to be revenged.'

sage.'

His majesty, indeed, scarcely imagined the messenger to be well out of London, and was therefore doubly surprised when Wolsey answered Yes, forsooth, I met with him yesterday by the way; and though I had no knowledge thereof, yet, notwithstandinge, I have beene so bold, upon mine own discretion, perceiving the matter to be very necessary, in that behalfe I despatched the same: and, forasmuch as I have beene so bold to exceed my commission, I most humbly crave your royall remission and pardon.' The king, inwardly rejoicing, replied-We doe not only pardon you, but give you our princely thanks, both for your good exploit, and happie expedition: and dismissed him for that present, and bade him returne to him againe after dinner, for a further relation of his ambassage, and so the king went to masse."

The king was so delighted with his dispatch and ability, that he placed him about the Court. This brought him into connection with the young prince, afterwards Henry VIII. After the death of Henry VII., the rise of Wolsey was surprisingly rapid. His ambition began to develope itself in all sorts of ways, and nothing which could extend his influence or augment his wealth, came amiss to him. He was not ambitious to increase his own power only, but likewise to increase that of the country:

"The people were delighted with the royal successes; and so much was considered as owing to Wolsey's provident

"To this the French ambassador answering, that it was not so as it was reported, Wolsey instantly took him up, exlight as to tell fables, you may be misadvised. But I pray claiming, Well! if you note the council of England so you,' added he more coolly, how oftentimes hath the king written to your master, for restitution of such robberies as have been done, and yet can have no redress? Wherefore league; but M. Chatillon hath taken merchants of England he granted letters of marque, which may stand with the prisoners, and hath sent certain here for their ransom! That is open war; and no peace.'

"The French ambassador stuck to his old text of denial, and now added attempts at recrimination, endeavouring to make out a worse case against the English in regard to France; but Wolsey was not thus to be led from his purpose: accordingly he sent for the four hostages that were

still here for the payment of the sums due on account of Tournay, and delivered each of them to a nobleman or knight for safe keeping; commanding the ambassador also to keep his house, in silence, and not again to come into the royal presence, until he was sent for."

Nor were his more pacific intellectual pursuits forgotten :

"Subject to such flattery, endued with such powers, ecclesiastical and civil, as he now possessed, and supported in the plenitude of his authority by both king and pope, can we wonder if Wolsey, like Philip of Macedon, should be in danger of forgetting that he was a man? He must, indeed, have been more than man had he not, in some measure, forgot himself; yet still we must laugh at some whimsical circumstances of pride and littleness which often ap"But, amidst this bustle of politics, Wolsey still found peared.. A curious instance of this pride and ambition took leisure for literature and its cultivators; and although the place this year, in consequence of the arrival of Cardinal general acquisition of knowledge in England was that which Campeius, as ambassador from the pope, and which afterwards led, as some writers assert, to his own procuring of he had most to dread in behalf of his own ambitious views, the full legantine authority; for no sooner did he know of his love of learning sometimes overcame his ambition, parthe proposed embassy, and that Campeius, who was also a ticularly in regard to the valuable Greek MSS. which were now discovered daily amidst the rubbish of monkish super-legate de latere, would thus take precedence of him as a stition, and lodged in the library of the Vatican, of which cardinal, than he sent an episcopal friend, accompanied by several learned doctors, to wait for him at Calais, as if to it was his intention to have copies taken for the English do him honour by a welcome, but really to persuade him, that if he wished to meet with success in his embassy, he "This literary patronage was extended even to those must send post to Rome, in order not only to have the whom he knew to be friendly to the Reformation; for that he did not forget his old friends is evident from his atten-legantine authority conferred upon Wolsey, but also to have the latter joined in the general diplomatic commission. tions to the learned Erasmus, at this period Grek professor "This representation had its expected effect upon Camat Cambridge, who was now in England upon his second visit, and travelled from Cambridge to London to congratu-peius, who took the steps necessary for its execution, so late his old college companion on his elevation to the mitre. On his arrival he was received in the handsomest manner by Wolsey, who not only gave to him hopes of an appointment to the first vacant canonry at Tournay, but also assigned him a pension, to encourage him in the prosecution of his studies, which he long enjoyed with others from Lord Montjoy, a particular friend of Wolsey, from Bishop Fisher and Archbishop Warham.

universities.

6

"These attentions were met with equal gratitude on the part of Erasmus; who, during the whole course of his epistolary correspondence, seems anxious to do every honour to Wolsey, not only in regard to his great abilities, but also with respect to the wisdom and rectitude of his administration. In one of his letters written about this time, he says, your highness,' (thus addressing the favourite nearly in the style of majesty, as used at that period,) in the happy administration of the most flourishing kingdom upon earth, are not less necessary to the king your master than Theseus was formerly to Hercules, and Achates to Eneas;' giving him credit at the same time for his great diplomatic exertions in regulating the peace of Europe."

6

The following anedotes respecting the Cardinal's hat, sent to him by the Pope, and the arrival of Cardinal Campeius as the Pope's legate, are rather whimsical :"We are told, that although the pope sent him this worthie hat of dignitie, as a jewell of his honour and authoritie; yet such was either the negligence or the poverty of the holy see, that it was conveyed in a varlett's budget, who seemed to all men to be but a person of small estimation.'

"No sooner, however, was the Cardinal informed of this fact, and of the people's opinion at Dover, where the messenger had landed, than he felt it necessary, for the honour of so high a message, that this jewell should not be conveyed by so simple a person.'

"Accordingly, with true jesuitical cunning, he directed that the messenger should be stopped on his route to town, until he should be furnished with sumptuous apparel of silk, gold, &c. as was meet for an embassy of such high importance. This priestly scarecrow was no sooner equipped in his new costume, than he recommenced his journey, and was met on Blackheath by a gorgeous train of bishops, mitred abbots, and gentlemen of the first rank; from whence he was conducted into the metropolis with a degree of triumph, as surprising to the once ragged messenger, as amusing to those who were in the secret.

that the affair was settled at Rome, not without suspicion of large bribes, and the bull brought to Calais in the course of seven weeks; where Campeius and his train waited for it, and where their poverty and shabbiness were so apparent, that Wolsey sent a quantity of red cloth over for their new clothing.

"Thus refitted, the whole party crossed over and proceeded towards the metropolis, being received at every town with great ceremony, and accompanied from stage to stage by the nobility and gentry of each vicinity. On arriving at Blackheath, Campeius was met by the Duke of Norfolk, accompanied by an immense train of bishops, knights, and gentlemen, all clad in the richest apparel; and by them he was entertained in a rich tent of cloth of gold, where he attired himself in his cardinal's robe, edged with ermine; then mounting his mule, set off in full procession for London.

"In those processions it was customary for great men to be accompanied by mules or horses, laden with rich furniture, and even with treasure; but Campeius travelled with such apparent poverty, that Wolsey was actually ashamed of the appearance which he would make in passing through the public streets: and, therefore, on the night previous to the public entry, knowing that the mules of the Italian only amounted to eight in number, he sent him a dozen others, laden with coffers covered with red cloth, but empty. This deception passed on very well until their arrival in Cheapside, when one of the mules broke from its keeper, threw off its own chests, which burst open in the fall, and made two or three of the other mules turn restive and do the same; but the derision of the populace was violent in the extreme, when they saw that out of some tell olde hosen, broken shoen, and roasted fleshe, pieces of bread, egges, and muche vile baggage: at which sighte the boyes cryed, See! see, my Lord Legate's treasure;' and so the muleteers were ashamed, and took up all their stuffe, and passed forthe.'

"But other folks might have been ashamed also, for previous to this the procession had been joined by the whole body of London clergy, with crosses, censers, and copes, who censed Campeius with all due solemnity, whilst the lord mayor and aldermen, common council, and all the trades and occupations of the city lined the streets in their best liveries, with every possible ceremony to do him

honour.

"No sooner had he recovered in some degree from the disastrous disclosure, than he found a number of bishops, in mitres and full canonicals, ready to receive him beneath a superb canopy, under which he entered the church, the