heroism and our horror of her persecutors. Her firmness of mind on the morning of the fatal day (Oct. 16, 1793) is sufficiently attested by her letter (dated 4 A.M.) to Madame Elizabeth, which, though obviously brought to an abrupt termination, breathes the genuine spirit of faith, hope, and charity, in unison with maternal and sisterly love. After confiding it to the turnkey (who delivered it to Fouquier), she called for food, lest faintness should be mistaken for fear. After eating the wing of a chicken, she changed her linen, threw herself dressed upon a bed, wrapped her feet in a blanket (procured with difficulty), and fell asleep. She was awakened by a priest named Girard, of whose ministry, from a suspicion of his quality, she declined to avail herself. On his asking if she wished him to accompany her, she quietly replied, Comme vous voudrez.'

Sanson, the executioner, arrived at seven. 'You are early, Sir,' remarked the Queen; 'could you not have come later?' 'No, Madame, I was ordered to come.' The Queen had already cut her hair, and no preparations were needed. She breakfasted on a cup of chocolate brought from a neighbouring café, and a very small roll. She was then taken to the registry, where her hands were tied. She was helped into the cart by Sanson, and the priest took his place by her side. The progress through the streets was retarded that she might taste long of death-boire longtemps la mort.' More than once she indicated by a gesture to the priest that the cords gave her pain. Opposite the Palais Égalité, the inscription over the gate caught her attention. Before Saint Roch there was a halt, and a torrent of abusive epithets burst from the spectators on the steps. At the At the passage of the Jacobins she leant towards Girard, and questioned him as to the inscription, Atelier d'armes républicaines pour foudroyer les tyrans.' By way of reply he held up a little ivory

Christ. At the same instant the player Grammont, who had kept close to the cart on horseback, stood up in his stirrups, waved his sword, and turning towards the Queen, shouted to the mob, 'La voilà l'infâme Antoinette! Elle estmes amis.' It was midday when the cart reached its destination. On leaving it, she turned her eyes with evident emotion in the direction of the Tuileries, then mounted the scaffold, and met her fate with calmness. Her head was exhibited to the public gaze by Sanson, whilst under the guillotine the gendarme Mingoult was dipping his handkerchief in her blood. That same evening,' add MM. de Goncourt, a man whose day's work was done, made out this bill of charges, which history cannot. touch without a shudder :

'Account of money paid and interments executed by Joly, gravedigger of the Madeleine de la Ville l'Évêque, for the persons put to death by the judgment of the aforesaid tribunal:

The Widow Capet.-For the bier
For the grave and the gravediggers

Livres.

6

25.'

We can suggest no moral, emotion, or reflection that will not arise spontaneously in the heart and mind of every reader endowed with thought and feeling, on the bare perusal of this document.

189

THE COUNTESS OF ALBANY AND ALFIERI.

(FROM THE EDINBURGH Review, JULY 1861.)

Die Gräfin von Albany.

Volumes. Berlin: 1860.

Von ALFRED VON REUMONT. Two

SOME forty years since, the sister of an Irish peeress astonished a party of English at Florence by announcing that she had been to see the house in which Ariosto lived with the Countess of Albany, widow of Charles the First. She meant the house in which Alfieri lived with the Countess of Albany after the death of her husband, Charles Edward, popularly known as the Pretender! It is to be feared that the name of the Countess of Albany, although it may not again mislead to this extent, will recall few clear or definite impressions to the mass of the reading public. Yet that name is imperishably blended with the royalty of race and the prouder royalty of genius,-with the expiring glories of an illustrious house, and with the rising glories of an author, who, thanks to Ristori, has at length obtained, in European estimation, the place which the most discriminating of his countrymen were prepared from the first to claim for him.

In allusion to the monument in Santa Croce and the many spots in Florence associated with their history, M. de Reumont exclaims, Thus in the capital of Tuscany are united the names and memories of a descen

This story is rather diffusely told in 'The Idler in Italy' (vol. ii. p. 146), by the Countess of Blessington, who, in the very act of triumphing over her country woman, falls into the not less palpable mistake of calling the Countess the widow of James Stuart, the Chevalier St. George.

dant of the most unfortunate kingly line of modern times, of a German princess, and an Italian poet.' It will not be this accomplished writer's fault if their union ever again fails to attract attention. The object of his book is to make the German princess not only the connecting link between the exiled prince and the poet, but the central figure of a group, or rather of successive groups, of learned and accomplished persons more or less known to fame. These in turn serve as an apology for introducing sketches of Italian society at different epochs, interspersed with remarks on manners and criticisms on art.

M. de Reumont was many years Prussian Minister at Florence he is the author of a valuable work, in six volumes, entitled Contributions to Italian History:' he is full to overflowing of antiquarian, artistic, and architectural lore; and he pours out his stores, whenever he can find or make an opportunity, without mercy or restraint. This is one of the most exhaustive and also the most conscientiously written books we ever remember to have read. Indeed, its excessive conscientiousness is its fault. There is no denying that, if we wish to convey a complete image and perfectly just estimate of a man and woman, everything that contributes directly or indirectly to the formation of their characters falls strictly within the province of the biographer. But a line of demarcation must be drawn somewhere. In the speech assigned to David Hartley in Anticipation,' he is made to argue that the right of Great Britain to tax a colony depends upon the constitution of colonies in general that colonies cannot be considered without reference to mother countries, nor mother countries without reference to the partition and population of the world. By an analogous train of reasoning, M. de Reumont insists on tracing the influence perceptibly or imperceptibly exercised on Charles Edward by his paternal and maternal connections in the ascending line

to the third or fourth degree, as well as by his father, mother, brother, and mistress, singly or conjointly; and the result is that we are not introduced to the lady whose name exclusively occupies the title-page, till we arrive at the third chapter and 133rd page of the book.

Foreign readers, however, who are less conversant with the errors and misfortunes of the Stuarts, may not be sorry to learn more of the last of them; and it must be admitted that the illustrative traits and incidents brought together by the author are extremely well chosen and well adapted to his purpose.1 But we could not find room for many of them without excluding more attractive matter; and we pass at once to the marriage of the Chevalier St. George in 1718 with Marie Clementine Sobieski, the granddaughter of the heroic king of Poland. Amongst the valuables which formed part of her dowry, were the rubies of the Polish crown, now in the treasury of St. Peter's: the golden shield, presented by the Emperor Leopold to the deliverer of Vienna; and the cover, of gold brocade adorned with verses of the Koran in turquoise, in which the standard of the Prophet was kept during the siege.

The theory that men of mark are commonly more indebted to their mothers than their fathers, has been illustrated by long lists of instances; and it is a fair subject of speculation whether the transient dashes of heroism exhibited by Charles are to be set down to the credit of the Sobieski blood, or were any way owing

1 The most interesting and curious of the anecdotes relating to the Stuarts in Italy are taken from 'The Decline of the Last Stuarts. Extracts from the Despatches of British Envoys to the Secretary of State. Printed for the Roxburghe Club by Lord Mahon (Earl Stanhope), London: 1843.' M. de Reumont's work is appropriately dedicated to 'Anna Cæcilia, Countess of Bernstorff, the German woman who in the society of England represents her native country with grace, tact, and kindliness; who, in a similar position in Italy, has left a willingly cherished remembrance.'