of

Birds, those both of the sea and land, the history of the whale, the subject of conchology, and some remarks upon the unnecessary cruelties of the experimental anatomists, next occupy the pages this excellent little work. The whole is meetly wound up with reflections upon natural religion, the power and goodness of God, and the love of truth; which, like those already noticed, are marked by a pleasing tone of piety without cant, of knowledge without pedantry, and of unbounded benevolence, without a particle of inorbid fondness, towards all the objects of the creation.

ART. VIII.—1. Philip Augustus; or, the Brothers in Arms. By the author of " Darnley," &c. In three volumes. 8vo. London: Colburn and Co. 1831.

2. Arthur of Britanny, an Historical Tale. By the author of "the Templars.' In three volumes. 8vo. London: Whittaker and Co. 1831.

3. Pin Money; a Novel. By the authoress of "The Manners of the Day." In three volumes. 8vo. London: Colburn and Co. 1831. 4. Haverhill; or, Memoirs of an Officer in the Army of Wolfe. By J. A. Jones. In three volumes. 8vo. London: T. and W. Boone. 1831.

5. Tales of Welshland and Welsherie. Trevor," &c. In two volumes. 8vo. 1831.

By the author of " Reginald
London: Newman and Co.

6. Ivan Vejeeghen; or, Life in Russia. By Thaddeus Bulgarin. In two volumes. 8vo. London: Whittaker and Co. Edinburgh: H. Constable. 1831.

7. Authorship, a Tale. By a New Englander over-sea. 8vo. pp. 267. Boston Gray and Co.

1830.

8. The Old Man of the Mountain, The Lovecharm, and Pietro of Abano. Tales from the German of Tieck. 12mo. pp. 335. Lon

don: Moxon. 1831.

1. MR. JAMES, the author of the first of the novels upon our list, informs us that it is the best thing he ever wrote. It is not often that authors form a proper estimate of their own works; nevertheless we are rather inclined to agree with him in opinion, that 'Philip Augustus' is by many degrees superior both to "Darnley" and "De L'Orme." It is a well wrought picture of the chivalrous ages, the chief traits of which are borrowed from well-authenticated memoirs of those interesting and perilous times. The scene is laid wholly in France, in the reign of Philip Augustus, who is himself the principal hero of the tale. Next to the sovereign in importance, so far as the story is concerned, is De Coucy, a gallant knight, whom we encounter, at the commencement of the story, returning from the last crusade, in company with his friend and brother in arms, the Count d'Auvergne. While proceeding through the most

picturesque part of the ancient French county of that name, De Coucy has the misfortune to tumble down a tremendous precipice, at the bottom of which, however, he is received by the celebrated hermit of Vincennes, whose counsels are known to have had so much influence at one period upon the conduct of Philip Augustus. The hermit conveys him, bruised and wounded by his fall, to his abode, where the knight is attended, not only by the good father, but also by the lady Isadore, the daughter of Count Julian of the Mount, who was then on his way to the mansion of the Count d'Auvergne's father on a visit. The circumstance of course gives rise to an inviolable attachment on the part of both the young people, which is carried on with alternate disaster and success throughout the three volumes, until, in the end, the obstinacy of the lady's father being conquered, she becomes the wife of her lover. The body of the work is filled up with the history of the contest in which Philip was so long engaged with the Pope, for the confirmation of his divorce from Ingerburge, sister of Canute, King of Denmark, to whom he took a most unaccountable, but invincible dislike upon first seeing her. It was of the more importance to him to have this affair brought to a favourable conclusion, inasmuch as he had already, with the consent of the French bishops, married a charming woman, to whom he had surrendered all his affections, and who loved him with a reciprocal passion. This fair lady was Agnes, the daughter of the Duke of Istria, whose amiable character has been celebrated by the chroniclers of her age. The story of her love for the king is related by Mr. James in the most affecting language. The resistance of the Pope to the divorce, for which, in fact, there was no canonical ground, ultimately broke her heart.

He seems

In the description of scenery and costume, Mr. James is particularly happy. Upon the latter theme he is as minute, and, we should suppose, as correct, as Sir Walter Scott himself. to have thoroughly imbued his mind with the character of the chivalrous period, in which he has laid the action of his story, and hence he has been enabled to place before us an exceedingly interesting picture of the manners of France at that time. The bandits who, under the name at one moment of Brabancois, at another of Cotereaux, infested that country in those days, are frequently introduced with striking effect. We have a capital character of a jester, Gallon, the fool, as he is called, who performs a prominent part in the drama. Guerin, the bishop of Senlis, and prime minister of Philip, is pourtrayed in strong colours, and the character of the king is admirably sustained throughout. The language which Mr. James uses is generally unaffected and picturesque, as a single specimen, from the earlier part of the tale, representing the two knights, d'Auvergne and De Coucy, traversing their native country, immediately after their return from Palestine, will show.

'Seven hundred years ago the same bright summer sun was shining in

his glory that now rolls past before my eyes in all the beneficent majesty of light. It was the month of May, and every thing in nature seemed to breathe of the fresh buoyancy of youth. There was a light breeze in the sky, that carried many a swift shadow over mountain, plain, and wood. There was a springy vigour in the atmosphere, as if the wind itself were young. The earth was full of flowers, and the woods full of voice; and song and perfume shared the air between them.

Such was the morning when a party of travellers took their way slowly up the south-eastern side of the famous Mont d'Or, in Auvergne. The road, winding in and out through the immense forest which covered the base of the hills, now showed, now concealed the abrupt mountain-peaks, starting out from their thick vesture of wood, and opposing their cold blue summits to the full blaze of the morning sun. Sometimes, turning round a sharp angle of the rock, the trees would break away, and leave the eye full room to roam past the forest hanging thick upon the edge of the slope, over valleys, and hills, and plains beyond, to the far wanderings of the Allier through the distant country. Nor did the view end here; for the plains themselves, lying like a map spread out below, skirted away to the very sky and even there, a few faint blue shadows, piled up in the form of peaks and cones, left the mind uncertain whether the Alps themselves did not there bound the view, or whether some fantastic clouds did not combine with that fond traitor, Fancy, to deceive the eyes.

At other times, the way seemed to plunge into the deepest recesses of the mountains, passing in the midst of black detached rocks and tall columns of grey basalt, broken fragments of which lay scattered on either side; while a thousand shrubs and flowers twined, as in mockery, over them; and the protruding roots of the large ancient trees grasped the fallen prisms of the volcanic pillars, as if vaunting the pride of even vegetable life over the cold, dull, inanimate stone.

Here and there, too, would often rise up on each side high masses of the mountain, casting all in shadow between them; while the bright yellow lights streaming amidst the trees above, and decking the foliage as if with liquid gold, and the shining of the clear blue sky over-head, were the only signs of summer that reached the bottom of the ravine. Then, again, breaking out upon a wide green slope, the path would emerge into the sunshine, and, passing even through the very dew of the cataract, would partake of the thousand colours of the sunbow that hung above its fall.

'It was a scene and a morning like one of those days of unmixed happiness that sometimes shine in upon the path of youth-so few, and yet so beautiful. Its very wildness was lovely; and the party of travellers who wound up the path added to the interest of the scene, by redeeming it from perfect solitude, and linking it to social existence.

The manner of their advance, too, which partook of the forms of a military procession, made the group, in itself, picturesque. A single squire, mounted on a strong bony horse, led the way at about fifty yards' distance from the rest of the party. He was a tall, powerful man, of a dark complexion and high features; and from beneath his thick arched eyebrow gazed out a full, brilliant, black eye, which roved incessantly over the scene, and seemed to notice the smallest object around. He was armed with cuirass and steel cap, sword and dagger; and yet the different form and rude finishing of his arms did not admit of their being confounded

with those of a knight. The two who next followed were evidently of a different grade; and, though both young men, both wore a large cross pendant from their neck, and a small branch of palm in the bonnet. The one who rode on the right hand was armed at all points, except his head and arms, in plate armour, curiously inlaid with gold in a thousand elegant and fanciful arabesques, the art of perfecting which is said to have been first discovered at Damascus. The want of his gauntlets and brassiards showed his arms covered with a quilted jacket of crimson silk, called a gambesoon, and large gloves of thick buff leather. The place of his casque was supplied by a large brown hood, cut into a long peak behind, which fell almost to his horse's back; while the folds in front were drawn round a face which, without being strikingly handsome, was nevertheless noble and dignified in its expression, though clouded by a shade of melancholy, which had channelled his cheek with many a deep line, and drawn his brow into a fixed, but not a bitter frown.

In form he was, to all appearance, broad made and powerful; but the steel plates in which he was clothed of course greatly concealed the exact proportions of his figure; though, withal, there was a sort of easy grace in his carriage, which almost approaching to negligence, was but the more conspicuous from the very stiffness of his armour. His features were aquiline, and had something in them that seemed to betoken quick and violent passions; and yet such a supposition was at once contradicted, by the calm still melancholy of his large dark eyes.

The horse on which the knight rode, was a tall powerful German stallion, jet black in colour; and though not near so strong as one which a squire led at a little distance behind, yet, unencumbered with panoply itself, it was fully equal to the weight of its rider, armed as he was.

'The Crusader's companion-for the palm and cross betokened that they both returned from the Holy Land-formed as strong a contrast as can well be conceived to the horseman we have just described. He was a fair, handsome man, round whose broad high forehead curled a profusion of rich chestnut hair, which behind, having been suffered to grow to an extraordinary length, fell down in thick masses upon his shoulders. His eye was one of those long, full, grey eyes, which, when fringed with very dark lashes, give a more thoughtful expression to the countenance than even those of a deeper hue; and such would have been the case with his, had not its clear powerful glance been continually at variance with a light playful turn of his lip, that seemed full of sportive mockery.

His age might be four or five-and-twenty-perhaps more; for he was of that complexion that retains long the look of youth, and on which even cares and toils seem, for years, to spend themselves in vain :-and yet it was evident, from the bronzed ruddiness of what was originally a very fair complexion, that he had suffered long exposure to a burning sun; while a deep scar on one of his cheeks, though it did not disfigure him, told that he did not spare his person in the battle-field.

'No age or land is, of course, without its foppery; and however inconsistent such a thing may appear, joined with the ideas of cold steel and mortal conflicts, no small touch of it was visible in the apparel of the younger horseman. His person, from the shoulders down to the middle of his thigh, was covered with a bright haubert, or shirt of steel rings; which, polished like glass, and lying flat upon each other, glittered and

flashed in the sunshine as if they were formed of diamonds. On his head he wore a green velvet cap, which corresponded in colour with the edging of his gambesoon, the puckered silk of which rose above the edge of the shirt of mail, and prevented the rings from chafing upon his neck. Over this hung a long mantle of fine cloth of a deep green hue, on the shoulder of which was embroidered a broad red cross, distinguishing the French Crusader. The hood which was long and pointed, like his companion's, was thrown back from his face, and exposed a lining of miniver.

The horse he rode was a light, beautiful Arabian, as white as snow in every part of his body, except where round his nostrils, and the tendons of his pastern and hoof, the white mellowed into a fine pale pink. To look at his slender limbs, and the bending pliancy of every step, one would have judged him scarcely able to bear so tall and powerful a man as his rider, loaded with a covering of steel; but the proud toss of his head, the snort of his wide nostril, and the flashing fire of his clear crystal eye, spoke worlds of unexhausted strength and spirit; though the thick dust with which the whole party were covered, evinced that their day's journey had already been long. Behind each knight, except where the narrowness of the road obliged them to change the order of their march, one of their squires led a battle-horse in his right hand; and several others followed, bearing the various pieces of their offensive and defensive armour.

This however, was to be remarked, that the arms of the first-mentioned horseman were distributed amongst a great many persons; one carrying the casque upright on the pommel of the saddle, another bearing his shield and lance, another his brassards and gauntlets; while the servants of the second knight, more scanty in number, were fain to take each upon himself a heavier load.

To these immediate attendants succeeded a party of simple grooms, eading various other horses, amongst which were one or two Arabians, and the whole cavalcade was terminated by a small body of archers.

For long, the two knights proceeded silently on their way, sometimes side by side, sometimes one preceding the other, as the road widened or diminished in its long tortuous way up the acclivity of the mountains, but still without exchanging a single word. The one whom-though there was probable little difference of age-we shall call the elder, seemed indeed too deeply absorbed in his own thoughts, to desire, or even permit of conversation, and kept his eyes bent pensively forward on the road before, without even giving a glance to his companion, whose gaze roamed enchanted over all the exquisite scenery aronnd, and whose mind seemed fully occupied in noting all the lovely objects he beheld. From time to time, indeed, his eye glanced to his brother knight, and a sort of sympathetic shade came over his brow, as he saw the deep gloom in which he was proceeding. Occasionally, too, a sort of movement of impatience seemed to agitate him, as if there was something that he fain would speak. But then the cold unexpecting fixedness of his companion's features appeared to repel it, and turning again to the view, he more than once apparently suppressed what was rising to his lips, or only gave it vent in humming a few lines of some lay, or some sirvente, the words of which, however, were inaudible.'- Philip Augustus, vol. i. pp. 14-25.

2. There was no necessity whatever for the apology which is made in his preface, by the author of Arthur of Britanny,' for