One gentleman fainted, and was carried out; and many of the ladies near me were in agitation even more distressing, which they vainly struggled to suppress.

"It was the music of Allegri; but the composition, however fine, is nothing without the voices who performed it here. It is only the singers of the papal chapel who can execute the Miserere. It has been tried by the best singers in Germany, and totally failed of effect.

"There is never any accompaniment, though at times the solemn swell of the softened organ seemed to blend with the voices.

"This music is more wonderful, and its effect more powerful, than any thing I could have conceived." vol. ii. pp. 251, 252.

The author's account of her presentation to the Pope (Pius VII.) is entertaining.

"To-day we were presented to the pope in a summer-house of the Vatican gardens, where he went to receive us; for his holiness may not admit a female within the sanctuary of his palace. Now, to my thinking, his stealing in this private manner into the garden to meet ladies, according to a previous assignation, wears a much more equivocal appearance, and might, indeed, give rise to much

scandal.

"Five o'clock was the hour fixed for the interview; and we had just arrived at the indicated summer-house, which contains two good carpeted drawing-rooms, when, 'punctual as lovers to the moment sworn,' the pope entered-took off his large round hat, and, severally bowing to each of us, passed on into the inner room, whither we were conducted by Cardinal and presented. But, alas! here the similitude failed-the natural order of things was reversed-for instead of the pope, like an impassioned lover, dropping down on his knees to us, it was our business to kneel to him.

This, however, his holiness, being apprised of our being Lutherani [the general name for Protestants], would by no means allow. Instead of his toe, we kissed his hand, which ceremony being performed, he seated us beside him, and chatted with us very pleasantly for half an hour-told us about old times and old stories, and all he used to do when he was a Ragazzo. 'Like all other old people,' he said, laughing good humoredly, he thought all things were changed for the worse. The very seasons were changedopinions were changed-times were changed.'-' Tutto è mutato: prima le teste, e poi gli tempi: sopra tutto son mutato io,' continued he, laughing; and he drew a very droll picture of what he was when a mischievous little urchin. He was polite enough to choose to think it was scarcely possible we could be English, though he had heard so we spoke Italian so well; and could hardly believe we had only been a few months in Italy. He said he particularly

disliked speaking French-he supposed, because he spoke it particularly ill; but, indeed, he had little reason to like any thing French.' Seizing upon this opening, we made some remarks on the occupation of Italy by the French, which drew from him a most energetic picture of the miseries which they had brought upon this unhappy land—of the wrongs they had committed, and the curse they had entailed upon it. You see it now,' he added, 'a changed country, exhausted and bleeding under the wounds of its enemies. Their rapacity, not content with despoiling it of its ornaments, has robbed it of its prosperity, and of that spirit of internal peace and concord, which no time can restore.'

"He spoke of Venice, his native state, of its flourishing condition before they seized it—of the rapid destruction to which it has ever since been hastening.

"I happened to observe, how fortunate it was that they had been compelled to restore all they had plundered from Rome (meaning works of art.) All!' he exclaimed; What! have they restored the blood they spilt-the wealth they squandered-the morals they have corrupted? Have they restored the noble families they reduced to beggary-the sons to the mothers they rendered childless-the husband to the widow?'

"When venerable age is roused to the energy and emotion we expect only from youth-when the quenched eye lightens, and the hoary locks are shook with the bitter sense of wrongs and regrets, there is something sacred in its feelings, which commands our respect and awe.

"This burst of feeling over, he spoke of the French with that mildness of spirit, which is the governing principle of his truly christian character. In sorrow more than anger' he seemed to look on the past; and throughout-that indescribable something far stronger than words-in the tone, eye, mind [mien ?], and gesture, made us feel that it was the abhorrence of injustice, violence, oppression, and impiety, and not the sense of personal injury and insult, that moved the virtuous indignation of this venerable old man; whose meekness, patience, and humility have through life been his most characteristic qualities.

"We retired with his blessing, and an invitation to return again, which we are told is, as well as the length of our interview, very rare. Accordingly, we are much flattered. The honor of having him all to ourselves-for even the cardinal retired-was, however, I believe purely accidental. In general he holds a female levee, and receives all at once. Every body is desired to be dressed up to the throat, and to wear a veil, which is, however, almost always thrown back. Some of our very scrupulous countrywomen have declined presentation to the pope, because it goes against their consciences to call him Vostra Santità. There are certainly some people who strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel." vol. ii. pp. 241-243.

We must resist the temptation of giving any more extracts, however interesting they might be, and refer our readers to the book itself, which is well worth their perusal. Having passed through four editions in Edinburgh, its merits would seem to be duly appreciated on the other side of the Atlantic. It may be considered, on the whole, as a well written performance, and more free than most works of the kind, which have been recently issued from the press, from the foolish affectation, which has too much prevailed of late years, of expressing, in foreign terms, ideas which should be presented in English, sometimes using the words as if naturalized in our own language, not even distinguishing them by italics. Some few instances of this kind may occur in the work before us. Osteria, for instance, is used for inn; torso for trunk; marchesa for marchioness; façade for front; cafe for coffeehouse; and vignaiuolo for vine-dresser. Those who understand the French and Italian languages will gain nothing by this absurd practice, and those who do not, will be interrupted and perplexed. We were sorry, also, to meet so frequently with the colloquial abbreviations, don't and won't. We should have much preferred, too, the good English term, insulated, to the French derivative, isolated; and lament that a writer so generally pure, should have used the broad Gallicism, "for all reply." We take the opportunity of making these criticisms the rather, as our language seems to be in danger of becoming a mere jargon in consequence of the carelessness, or literary foppery, of some of our popular writers. We conceive it to be the duty of every friend to the purity of the English tongue, on either side of the Atlantic, to discountenance these silly innovations, by his decided disapprobation.

We cannot conclude this article without adding our regret at the slovenly manner in which the New York edition of this valuable work is "got up," if we may be allowed the expression. The paper is rather dark, to say nothing of its vile cotton texture, and has not even the merit of being of a uniform shade of brownness; while the type used is of different sizes. Whatever mercenary purposes may be answered, in this age of money-getting, by such wretched workmanship, we hesitate not to say, that the appearance of such editions of European writers, is an affront to literature, and a disgrace to the American press.

MISCELLANY.

THE DUKE OF ALVA'S BREAKFAST.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER.

In reading an old chronicle of the sixteenth century, says Schiller, I met with the following anecdote, which, for many reasons, deserves to be preserved. I have since found it confirmed from other sources. A German lady, descended from a family which was always famous for heroic spirit, and had seen one of its sons on the imperial throne, once made the dreaded Duke of Alva tremble by a display of masculine resolution. In the year 1547, when Charles V. was passing with his army through Thuringia, Catherine, widow of the Earl of Schwartzburg, by birth princess of Henneberg, obtained from him a letter of protection for her subjects, forbidding the Spanish forces to do them any injury. In return, she bound herself to furnish bread, beer, and other necessaries of life, at a reasonable rate, to the troops, at the place where they crossed the river Saal. She had the prudence, however, to remove the bridges which stood near the town, and erect others at a distance, for fear the neighbourhood of wealth might tempt too strongly the soldiers' appetite for plunder. She sent orders, likewise, to the inhabitants of the villages in the army's line of march, to bring their most valuable effects to her own castle of Rudolstadt.

In the mean time the Spanish general approached the town, accompanied by Duke Henry of Brunswick with his sons, and sent a message to the lady, expressing his wish to breakfast in her castle. Such a request, from a man with an army at his back, could not well be refused. He should be welcome, was the answer, if his excellency could be satisfied with what the house afforded. At the same time he was reminded of the letter of protection, and requested to observe it scrupulously.

A friendly greeting, and a well furnished table, saluted the duke on his arrival. He must confess, he said, that the ladies of Thuringia understood the management of a kitchen and the duties of hospitality. The company had not yet sat down to table, when a messenger called the lady out of the room, and informed her,

that, in certain villages, the Spanish soldiers had violently driven off the cattle of the peasants. Catherine was the mother of her subjects, and felt a wrong done to the meanest among them as a personal injury. Greatly irritated at this breach of faith, but still retaining her presence of mind, she ordered all her vassels to arm themselves quietly and speedily, and bar the gates of the castle. Meanwhile she herself returned into the parlor, where her guests were seated at table, and complained, in the most moving terms, of the wrong which had been done her, and of the contempt with which the plighted faith of the emperor was treated. She was answered with laughter. She was told that it was one of the usages of war, one of the little accidents which always attend the march of an army, and could not be prevented. "That we will see," exclaimed she, glowing with indignation; "my poor subjects shall have their property restored, or by heaven, princes' blood shall pay for oxen's blood." This said, she left the apartment, which, in a few moments, was filled with armed men, who placed themselves, sword in hand, but with respectful looks, behind the chairs of the nobles, ready to wait on them during their meal. At the entrance of this martial troop, the Duke of Alva changed color, and his companions looked at each other in mute astonishment. Cut off from his army, surrounded by a superior force of determined men, what remained for him but patiently to submit to any terms which the offended dame might impose. Henry of Brunswick first resumed his courage, and broke out into a loud laugh. He adopted the judicious course of treating the whole scene as a joke, and pronounced a panegyric upon the lady for her maternal care of her subjects, and the resolute spirit which she had manifested. He begged her not to trouble herself at what had happened, and undertook to obtain the Duke of Alva's consent to any thing which justice required. The duke, agreeably to his request, immediately sent orders to his camp to have the cattle restored without delay. As soon as the lady learned that the order had been obeyed, she thanked her guests in the most obliging terms, and they with great show of courtesy took their leave.

It was this transaction, undoubtedly, which obtained for Catherine of Schwartzburg the name of the heroic. She is renowned also for her persevering efforts to advance the cause of the Reformation in her territories, already introduced there by her husband Henry, to abolish the monasteries, and improve education. Many Protestant preachers persecuted for religion's sake, she protected and upheld. Among these was Caspar Aquila, pastor