agitated frame. There was a terrific look also in her eye, as she shot its glance of hatred and abhorrence on Varras. It was a glance that would have withered, could looks do the deeds they speak. Her whole person, countenance, and air, might have suited a Cassandra, when, in the frenzy of a prophetic mood, she comes to bid the Trojans cry aloud for the curse that is about to fall on their devoted heads. Cruel, blood-thirsty tyrant,' she exclaimed, dare you thus cut him off? But think not God's justice will rest till it has found you out. Blood shall have blood; the dogs and the carrion birds that prey on the carcass of the slain and make it their feast, shall, ere another month be passed, prey on your heart; and the curse of the wretched, such a wretched being as you have this day made me, shall sound in your ears worse than the wolf's howl in the forest of our Bocage, and bid you die and go down in despair to where that bad spirit waits for you that spirit who now prompts you to this murder. Yes, murder,-for it is a murder! Oh! would that the thunder of Heaven, at this moment, might be launched against you. I would call it down with my curse, and stand and see it fall rejoicing, though I myself were also doomed to share the ruin of its fatal bolt! Varras, God will curse you, if my brother dies.'"

Beseeching and imprecations beyond what we have quoted were employed, but in vain. Varras orders the fifes play, to drown the vociferation.

"But Jeanne was no longer in a state to need this cruel insult to her feelings, by drowning her bitter expressions of despair. She gave up all her thoughts to her dying brother, and with an energy, a resolution that could proceed alone from that love which she bore towards him, and which in death was strong as death,' she composed herself as much as she could for his sake, and, at his entreaty, did for him the best offices that he now required at her hands. He bade her untie a blue riband that was under

his vest. She did so. He took it from his bosom, and tied the riband round her neck. Jeanne,' he said, it is the consecrated heart. It was your gift before we parted, when I went forth with our chiefs to the war; it has never since left my bosom; it has been close to that heart which loved nothing so much in life, regretted nothing so much in death, as my dear sister. Adieu, my sweet Jeanne.'"

Wine is offered to the prisoner, which he refuses, but his sister eagerly snatches the cup, and,

"Held it up more steadily than could have been expected, considering her previous high state of excitement and the indignation she had expressed in the frantic curses she had poured out on the revolutionist. She looked for a moment at the cup: and a smile, expressive of bitterness, of a feeling that rejoices over anticipated evil, curled her haughty lip, as she fixed a stern and dark eye on Varras, and said, Varras, I drink this to our next meeting; for, trust me, we shall meet again ere long.' She drank a deep draught, put down the cup, and turning to her brother, said, That has refreshed my heart; now I can go through all that is to come.' From that moment a change came over her whole appearance and demeanour."

Pierre is shot, Jeanne refusing to retire during the last scene. She then insists on having a near inspection of the body.

"She was not denied that request; yet her behaviour was not at all such as had been anticipated. She shewed no expressions of violent grief, no want of submission or of firmness; all her frantic energy, her wild unsettled feelings, seemed to have ceased with the extinction of her hopes. She kissed

Notices.

the corpse affectionately, and with her own hands covered the head with
the face-cloth, begging it might not again be raised. Pierre was buried on
that day, and buried in the clothes in which he had fallen. The priest who
had not been found to attend him whilst alive, was at last discovered; and,
on the assurance of La Forêt being pledged for his safety, performed the
service for the dead. Jeanne attended in profound silence, with an air of
devotion, of deep settled grief, that was more alarming, though less afflicting
She was quiet, calm, and resolute."
for the time, than violent sorrow.

Now for the catastrophe:

"On the evening of the battle near Doué, when the revolutionists were strongly intrenched, Monsieur de Lescure, then general of the Vendean army, was surprised at the approach of a soldier of a very youthful appearance, demanding to speak with him in private. The soldier appeared in great distress, without shoes, and very poorly clad. He had on the brigand costume, a red handkerchief round the head, the neck, and the waist, Lescure's attention being arrested by the air, the extreme poverty, and the youth of the soldier, he questioned him closely. The soldier burst into tears and Madame de said, General, I am not what I seem to be ;-I am a woman. Lescure knows me. I saw her once, before I wore this dress: and once since I have assumed it. She also knows that my character is good; she has seen the certificate of my curé. Do not ask me questions, I entreat you; but grant what I ask of you, for I am resolute. To-morrow there is to be a battle; let me have but a pair of shoes, and I am sure I shall fight And I shall that you will not repent my being near you in the action. be there whether you let me go or not.' Lescure was astonished; he endeavoured to dissuade her from her purpose; but finding all remonstrance vain, he gave her what she needed, and more than she asked; and ordered that she might have the use of a horse, as she told him she could ride as well as any in the army. On the morrow she appeared, and mounted, as one of the cavalry for the action. She purposely fought under the eye of Lescure, and, once or twice, called out to him during the battle- General, you must not pass me: I shall always be nearer to the enemy than you are.' She received a wound in the hand, but her courage and determination seemed but to rise the more for this accident. She was advised to retire from the field, but she answered calmly- This a trifle; I have not done yet.' It was allowed by all present who on that day observed her, that none fought better than she did; yet, at one period of the action, she was remarked to reserve herself. Her eye watched; she was looking out for some one amongst the enemy. The regiment of Varras now prepared to pour down on the Vendeans. No sooner did she perceive this, than, animating the men with the most enthusiastic expression, she called out to them by a name which that very body of peasantry afterwards retained Follow me, men of La Vendée. Follow; and be, throughout the war. like me, avengers.' She rushed on with an impetuosity that was her best security at the moment; as, by the rapidity and vehemence with which she made her way through all opposition, she escaped immediate destruction. She rode up to Varras, who was charging at the head of his troop; and, ere a republican could touch her, she snatched a pistol from her side and exclaiming Now, Varras, we have met,' shot him dead on the spot. This done, she threw away her pistol, rushed furiously into the thickest part of the battle (where her red handkerchiefs made her a mark), and almost immediately perished. The body was found after the action. By the care

TT 2

of Lescure it was decently interred. On searching the clothes, the certificate of the curé was found; and a consecrated heart, worn next to her bosom, was twisted round with a lock of hair. Probably the hair was her brother's. By the certificate it was ascertained that she was the unfortunate Jeanne Lobin."

Such is a specimen of Mrs. Bray's "Trials of the Heart." And a fine one it is, whether the general criticism we have offered, hold true of it or not. She can at will probe the human heart, and lay it open in its most passionate moments; and this she has accomplished in the tale before us.

ART. XXI.-The Churches of London. By G. GODWIN. London: Tilt. 1839.

SEVERAL recently published numbers of this highly meritorious work are now before us; and the more we see of it, impresses us the more, that no one who has merely gazed at the outside of the many Churches of London, nay, that no one who may have personally visited the interiors of each and all of them, bestowing upon them merely a hasty examination, unless he peruses the publication under review, can suppose how rich are these sacred edifices in regard to architectural features; much less, how numerous and how interesting are the anecdotes, the antiquarian, monumental, biographical and historical facts, recorded about and within them. Upon this occasion we shall only extract one specimen with its appropriate note, to illustrate how various and excursive are the particulars of which these Churches are the text :

Speaking of St. Swithen's, London Stone, Cannon-street, and of St. Swithin, or Swithun, with whose name it is identified, we are informed that he died in 862 or 3, that he left directions, and possibly this is an instance of his humility, that his body should not be buried in the cathedral (Winchester, of which he was Bishop), but in such a situation, that the rain might fall on bis grave; and he was accordingly interred in the churchyard at Winchester." The note to this is as we now quote." The vulgar belief, that if it rain on St. Swithin's anniversary, rain will fall on the thirty-nine days following, appears to be in some way connected with the above circumstance. The story told is, that after his body had been buried for some time, the monks deeming it dishonourable to them that he should lie in the open ground, attempted to remove it to the cathedral in spite of his injunction to the contrary, but were prevented by rain, which continued until they had abandoned their intention, namely, for forty days."

ART. XXII.-The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley. Edited by MRS. SHELLEY. Vol. II. London: Moxon.

THIS volume contains "Prometheus Unbound," a lyrical drama; "The Cenci," a Tragedy; and "Helas," another lyrical drama. In the first and second of these works, Shelley's imagination soared, and the mystic power and intensity of his genius took their most erratic and ethereal course. The tragedy, however, was an unhappy subject; offensive in itself, and by his mode of treating it, nowise redeemed. The notes to be found in this volume fully support the interest excited by what Mrs. Shelley has produced by her contributions in the first. They are essential to a right apprehension of the poet's speculations and modes of expression.

ART. XXIII.—Notes on the Western States. By JAMES HALL. London: Wiley & Putnam. 1839.

Mr. HALL'S design is to give descriptive sketches of the soil, climate, resources, and scenery of the Western States of the American Union, which his intimate knowledge, apparently practical habits, his sound sense, and accurate taste, have enabled him to do in a manner very different from that by random and rapid tourists who write such startling accounts, as we generally read, of prairie grounds, and the Far West. There is, however, in the pictures before us an attraction as well as a truthfulness that much more than compensates for all the romances of the would-be-inspired travellers. But our present purpose is not to accompany Mr. Hall through any one of the States which he has so vividly described, but merely to quote some notices of the poor man who first thought of steam navigation, and first made all but successful attempts to carry the invention into profitable

use:

"In 1785, John Fitch, a watchmaker in Philadelphia, conceived the design of propelling a boat by steam. He was both poor and illiterate, and many difficulties occurred to frustrate every attempt which he made to try the practicability of his invention. He applied to Congress for assistance, but was refused; and then offered his invention to the Spanish government, to be used in the navigation of the Mississippi, but without any better success. At length, a company was formed, and funds subscribed, for the building of a steam-boat, and in the year 1788, his vessel was launched on the Delaware. Many crowded to see and ridicule the novel, and, as they supposed, the chimerical experiment. It seemed that the idea of wheels had not occurred to Mr. Fitch; but, instead of them, oars were used, which worked in frames. He was confident of success; and when the boat was ready for the trial, she started off in good style for Burlington. Those who had sneered began to stare, and they who had smiled in derision, looked grave. Away went the boat, and the happy inventor triumphed over the scepticism of an unbelieving public. The boat performed her trip to Burlington, a distance of twenty miles: but unfortu. nately burst her boiler in rounding to the wharf at that place, and the next tide floated her back to the city. Fitch persevered, and with great difficulty procured another boiler. After some time, the boat performed another trip to Burlington and Trenton, and returned in the same day. She is said to have moved at the rate of eight miles an hour; but something was continually breaking, and the unhappy projector only conquered one difficulty to encounter another. Perhaps this was not owing to any defect in his plans, but to the low state of the arts at that time, and the difficulty of getting such complex machinery made with proper exactness. Fitch became embarrassed with debt, and was obliged to abandon the invention, after having satisfied himself of its practicability. This ingenious man, who was probably the first inventor of the steam-boat, wrote three volumes, which he deposited in manuscript, sealed up, in the Philadelphia library, to be opened thirty years after his death. When, or why, he came to the west we have not learned; but it is recorded of him, that he died and was buried near the Ohio. His three volumes were opened about five years ago, and were found to contain his speculations on mechanics. He details his embarrassments and disappointments with a feeling which shows how ardently he desired success, and which wins for him the sympathy of those

who have heart enough to mourn over the blighted prospects of genius. He confidently predicts the future success of the plan, which, in his hands, failed only for the want of pecuniary means. He prophesies that in less than a century, we shall see our western rivers swarming with steam-boats; and expresses a wish to be buried on the shores of the Ohio, where the song of the boatmen may enliven the stillness of his resting place, and the music of the steam-engine soothe his spirit. What an idea! Yet how natural to the mind of an ardent projector, whose whole life had been devoted to one darling object, which it was not his destiny to accomplish! And how touching is the sentiment found in one of his journals :-'the day will come when some more powerful man will get fame and riches from my invention; but nobody will believe that poor John Fitch can do anything worthy of attention.'

ART. XXIV.-Progressive Education. 2 vols. 12mo. London: Longman. 1839.

AN excellent translation of Madame Necker de Saussure's excellent work on the development of the mind, which every parent ought to consult and study with the view of treasuring its lessons. Perhaps the process of abridgment might in some parts have been carried further for the sake of the English reader, who wishes to derive practical instruction from it.

ART. XXV.-Scripture Biography, for Youth. London: Churton. 1839. THIS elegant little work contains Select Lives of the Patriarchs and Prophets, compiled from the Sacred Writings, and illustrated by Oriental Traditions. Twelve engravings from the designs of Martin and Westall add to those attractions which such simple, and touching, and impressive biographies must ever possess for the old as well as the young.

ART. XXVI.-Narrative of a Journey to the site of Babylon in 1811, &c.; with a Narrative of a Journey to Persepolis. By the late C. J. RICH, Esq. Edited by his Widow. London: Duncan. 1839. THE Oriental literary labours of the learned and accomplished author of this volume are too well known and highly appreciated to require description or eulogy at our hands. In fact, the greater portion of the contents of the present contribution is a reprint of papers which, on account of their interesting antiquarian and philological value, have materially served to establish the reputation of the lamented author. The results of the Journey to Persepolis, however, which took place in 1821, are now for the first time published, and are calculated to extend the investigator's celebrity in the particular walk of literature to which he chiefly devoted himself. But we must recommend the volume in its entire form to all those who cherish curiosity on the subjects of Oriental architecture and the inscriptions that have at a very remote period been engraved upon the relics and monuments described; and limit our extracts to a mere outline description. Mr. Rich says that the general view of the ruins of Persepolis,

Was grand: the colonnade, in which fifteen columns were still stand ing, very fine; the principal building rather what the Fench call écrasé