cent pearls, two pairs of pearl earrings, and a diamond of great value. The King of Spain accompanied the prince part of the way to the coast; on the road they killed a stag in a little wood, where they found a table richly laid out. A small marble column had already been erected on the spot, and before this Philip and Charles renewed their protestations of alliance and friendship. No sooner had they separated, than Charles sent a messenger to the English envoy with instructions not to let out of his hands the procuration which the prince had given him, and by which he authorized Philip IV., or the Infant Don Carlos, to proceed in his name to the celebration of the marriage. A rumor had been spread that, once the marriage ceremony was performed, the Infanta, sooner than live with a heretic, would retire to a convent, thus leaving the Prince of Wales married and without a wife. Such was the distrust and suspicion connected with the solemn protestations and promises of friendship! When Charles got on board the English fleet at Santander, his remark was, "It is a great folly and weakness of the Spaniards to let me depart so freely, after having treated me so badly."

in-law of James I., who had twenty-five perbly harnessed. Charles offered the Infanta thousand, and thoroughly routed him. "I a necklace of two hundred and fifty magnifiwill tell you," said Archie," something far more surprising: how was it possible, in 1538, that a fleet of one hundred and forty vessels left Spain to invade England, and that not even ten of them returned to tell what had become of the rest?" Personally, Charles was liked by the Spaniards; but he was neither firm enough nor clever enough to repair the faults of his comrade. The Infanta's confessor was greatly opposed to the match, and ardently turned his young penitent from it. "Do you know," he would say to her," what misfortune and malediction you will incur? You will have every night at your side a man condemned to the fires of hell." The Infanta was horrified, turned melancholy, and sedulously avoided the prince, who persisted in seeking her without loving or being loved. To escape from this ridiculous situation, Prince Charles saw no other mode than to hurriedly return to England, leaving in suspense at Madrid all the questions which he had flattered himself with settling by his chivalrous journey. On September 7th, the King of Spain and the Prince of Wales confirmed, by a new act, the articles to which King James had sworn, and Philip promised that, if he would return to Madrid at the following Christmas, the marriage would be immediately celebrated, although the departure of the Infanta still remained fixed for the spring. The Infanta had received the marriage presents some time before; she bore the title of Princess of England, took English lessons assiduously, and when the two envoys of King James appeared before her, they did not remain covered, according to the Spanish custom, for they no longer regarded her as the Infanta, but as their princess. When the news of the Prince of Wales's approaching departure spread through Madrid, people were surprised, and asked whether he were afraid of being kept there against his will. To this suspicion Buckingham proudly replied: "It was love that impelled the prince to come to Spain; it will not be fear that makes him leave it; he will go away when he thinks proper in broad daylight." The Infanta

Charles's return to London was a magnificent ovation; all the bells rang out a merry peal, and the churches were filled with persons offering up thanks for his safe return. He hastened off at once to join his father at Royston, and James appeared to be tolerably satisfied with the result. The pledges of the Spaniards to restore his son-in-law, the Palatine, to his states, were rather vague, and he said, "I am not at all inclined to marry my son with my daughter's tears for a dower." James's next step was to send instructions to his envoy at Madrid to put off the ceremony of betrothal till Christmas, which placed Lord Bristol in an awkward dilemma, for, since Prince Charles's departure, he had been doing all in his power to dissipate doubts, and persuade the prince and the Infanta that they were really attached to each other. The King of Spain, however, felt so

said, on hearing it: "If he loved me he would persuaded that James's heart was set on the not go away." Before the departure presents marriage, that he made all preparations, and, were exchanged, the King of Spain giving the as the Papal dispensation had at length arprince eighteen Spanish horses, six Barbs, rived, the betrothal was fixed for November six brood mares, and twenty colts, all su-29, and the marriage for December 9. To

Under the circumstances, the French court thought it advisable to try and take the place of the Spaniards, and, after some beating about the bush, James sent Lord Kensington

sound the disposition of the King of France and the queen-mother. Shortly after, the Earl of Carlisle was sent to back up Lord Kensington, and found that he had to negotiate with a man of very different mental calibre from himself, the Cardinal de Richelieu. When their lordships had declared the purport of their common mission, Louis XIII. appointed four commissioners to treat with them, the cardinal being at their head. Matters went on very satisfactorily as far as the at all like the idea of the match. He went French were concerned, but the Pope did not so far as to say that if Louis XIII. would give up the English marriage, the King of Spain would gladly ask the hand of Henrietta for his brother, the Infant Don Carlos, to whom he would secure the sovereignty of the Catholic Low Countries after the death of the Infanta Isabella. Marie de Médicis did not let herself be caught by these offers, however, and Louis XIII. contented himself with answering, "My zeal for the Catholic religion is no less than that of the King of Spain. It is the only thing which delays my sister's marriage."

get out of this, James began a squabble about the Infanta's dower of two millions of crowns, which he insisted on receiving in hard cash, instead of part payment in jewels and annuities, as proposed by the Spanish court. He to Paris early in 1624, with instructions to also insisted on a clear understanding about what was to be done in the matter of the Palatine. The court of Madrid was astounded by this firmness on the part of the usually vacillating monarch, and the cool way in which he treated the Spanish envoys, and the friendliness he displayed towards the French ambassador heightened their anxiety. James was horribly perplexed what to do, and, without absolutely breaking with the Spanish court, recalled his envoy, the Earl of Bristol, the only Englishman in whom the Spaniards placed confidence. On his departure, Olivarez offered him a considerable sum of money, and pressed him to accept, as no one would know about it. "Pardon me," Bristol replied; "there is some one who will know it, and inform the King of England of the fact, and that is the Earl of Bristol." So soon as they learned that Bristol was recalled, Philip IV. and his council regarded the marriage of the Infanta as abandoned, and, though they did not declare it formally, they manifested their conviction by their actions. The Infanta gave up her English lessons, and though the presents were not at once returned, it was openly stated that they would be so as soon as their suspicions were confirmed. At the same time, Philip went to Andalusia and inspected the fleet. Nothing was so disagreeable to James as the prospect of a war with Spain; for, as he wisely remarked, that would not restore the palatinate to his son-in-law. He therefore summoned Parliament, and laid the whole affair of the Spanish marriage before it. The great mass of the people were opposed to it, and Buckingham placed himself at the head of the opposition. The Spanish ambassadors intrigued against the favorite and almost dethroned him. He lost the king's favor for some time, but by a fortunate chance Buckingham was enabled to lay bare the trickery of the Spaniards, and the king and Buckingham became friends again. The end of the whole affair was that the two Houses declared that the king could no longer, with honor, continue the negotiations for the Spanish marriage. At the same time they voted a sum of money for the prosecution of the war, should it break out.

The great hitch in the affair was the engagement James should enter into as to the fered a verbal promise not to execute the treatment of the English Catholics. He oflaws passed against them, and to tolerate the free exercise of their religion in their houses. The French negotiators demanded a written and official oath. James consented to the terms, but then came another difficulty: the Frenchmen wanted the engagement inserted did not dare assent, as it would be laid bein the marriage contract, and to this James fore Parliament, and there would be no chance of carrying it through. To these reasons Louis XIII. yielded, and the only thing now remaining was to obtain the dispensation from Rome. As his emissary to the Pope Richelieu selected a remarkably all the schemes by which the Papal See tried astute man, Père de Berulle, who defeated to evade giving its assent to the marriage. The ceremony was arranged, and the Duc de Chevreuse was to act as proxy for the Prince of Wales, but just at the time James I. was taken ill and died. Death, however, does three days after, Charles I. ratified the treaty, not derange the course of regal relations: and the contract was signed on May 8, 1625, at the Louvre, and the marriage ceremony was performed by the Cardinal de la Rochefoucald on the 11th.

From The Saturday Review.
THE BRITISH SUTTEE.

"A

blaze of beauty" used to be a penny-a-lining metaphor; but if matters go on as they have been doing lately, it is likely, in the most literal sense, to form an ornament of our drawing-rooms far more often than could be wished.

tory of

necessary to describe the mermaid of modern times. But the chase after this singular ideal A CURIOUS chapter might be written on the involves the risk of considerably greater suftortures to which the human female has sub- fering than was heretofore attached to similar jected herself for the sake of concealing what efforts. The fashion of low grates and volushe evidently conceives to be the normal ug-minous tarlatans combined has recently proliness of her shape. The desire is peculiar duced a succession of terrible accidents. to her alone out of the whole list of animate creation. It is not even shared by the male of her own species. Man has never been ashamed of his outlines. Such vestimentary sufferings as he has been exposed to in the changing course of fashion have rather resulted from an undue desire to exhibit them. It must be acknowledged that there is great There were days when a satirist could make originality in this peculiar form of danger; a man of fashion dismiss his tailor with the and as originality is the great recommendaadmonition—“ And mind you, sir, if I can tion of a marriageable young lady in these get into my leather breeches, I wont have days, the thought will no doubt go far to conthem." In such times, a hook fixed into the sole all those who are not quite burned to wall was a regular part of a gentleman's dress- death. Never before, probably, in the hising apparatus, so that by hanging his accuhuman folly, did people ever lay a rately made garments to it, he could have the train of highly combustible matter between assistance of the force of gravitation in the their own combustible clothing and a point difficult labor of inserting himself into them. some six feet off, and carry this inflammable But though such efforts undoubtedly prove arrangement about with them into the immethat the French proverb, il faut souffrir pour diate neighborhood of fireplaces and gaslights. être belle, was unjust in its exclusively femi- The only precedent on record which at all nine application, yet they cannot be said to approximates to the present case is that of have indicated any solicitude on the man's the Frenchman who desired to commit suipart to conceal the human outline. But the cide in an original manner, and accordingly woman, in various climes and ages, has been stuffed his ear with gun-cotton, and then appossessed with an irrepressible anxiety to plied the end of his cigar to it. But then distort an original with which she is so little the Frenchman was fully aware that a blaze satisfied, and has been deterred by no suffer- would be the probable result, which does not ing from her aim. Physical pain has not yet appear to have dawned upon the young frightened the Chinese woman from crushing ladies. They seem to be wholly ignorant of her feet, or the Polynesian from elongating the natural law, that if even the hundredth her ears. Neither fear of dyspepsia or suffo- yard of the tarlatan wherewith they are encation, nor the misery of life-long compres-compassed should catch fire, all the other insion, prevented our mothers from giving, by tervening yards will catch fire too. And hard squeezing, an elegant air of fragility to what that hundredth yard of tarlatan is doing their waists. The faults of the present fash--whether it is scorching, smouldering, or ion are certainly not in the same direction. blazing-the wearer herself is much too far If the young lady of the last generation had off to know. When Sydney Smith saw a a taste for squeezing herself, the young lady child trying to please a tortoise by tickling its of the present generation wisely prefers to shell, he said it was like stroking the dome squeeze her neighbors. She does not err by of St. Paul's in order to soothe the Dean and detracting from, but rather by amplifying Chapter. A young lady is not quite so far the bounty of nature. Her aim appears to off from her external clothing as the assembe to persuade the male animal that the nat- bled dignitaries from the dome under which ural form of his appointed helpmate is that of they are sitting; but she is quite as ignorant a bell-shaped tent with a small protuberance of what is befalling it. And her crinoline, of arms and features struggling out of the top unlike the dome in question, is not only movof it. "Desinit in diving-bell mulier formosa able, but has a sportive and capricious movesuperne," would be the macaronic adaptationment of its own. A profound mathematician,.

upon crino

give a lady the satisfaction of knowing for
certain where her crinoline was going.
On the whole, however, the general impres-

no doubt, could calculate with accuracy every curve of the sinuous course, as it waggles from side to side behind its mistress when she sion walks across the room. But to unlearned appears to be that the danger is unavoidable, and that a store of wet blankets kept in eyes its wags are quite inscrutable, and defy constant readiness, and hung like buckets in all calculation. At one moment, it disports the passage, is the only remedy. In economitself amid a tray of curious china, at another ical houses, the same precaution may be proit winds round the legs of an unwary gentle-vided by occasionally watering the rug. These man who is not used to its ways; and after safeguards will probably be sufficient if the creating havoc among all the unstable pieces of furniture in the room, and putting the footman who is bringing in the tea through a series of the most formidable feats of agility, it is likely enough to end with a graceful sweep into the grate. If its covering is silk or woollen, nothing comes of it but a scorch; but if it be muslin, there must be a blaze. The unfortunate wearer cannot help herself; for, as Nature did not calculate line, and gave her no eyes in the back of her head, she cannot keep a watch over its pranks. Her only chance is to act like the helmsman of a badly steering ship, and give a wide berth to everything. But a knowledge of the precautions necessary in drawing-room navigation under the crinoline régime does not come by nature; and while young ladies are gaining their experience, their novitiate is cut short by a conflagration. Of course, many remedies have suggested themselves to affrighted parents. One gentleman announces that he keeps all his grates well blockaded by a huge fireguard; for which, if frosty weather should ever return to us, his affectionate family will bless him. The favorite remedy is the application of a solution of tungstate of soda, which would certainly render the dresses non-inflammable, and, it is said, would not injure the appearance of the stuff. But for its possessing this indispensable merit, we have only the word of some eminent chemists; and the young ladies are not inclined to accept their authority on so delicate a matter. Moreover, the peculiar ways of manufacturers must be taken into consideration. There can be no doubt that they would carefully apply the solution to the extreme end of each piece of stuff, so as to enable the customer to test it at a candle in the shop, and entirely to satisfy her prejudices. But if any manufacturer did more than this, he would certainly be behaving in a very untradesman-like manner. Failing these remedies, it would be very desirable that some ingenious mechanist should devise some machine for enabling every lady to steer her own crinoline. A few steel rods in addition to the present cage work would be no great increase of weight, and it would

non-blazing portion of the company are prompt enough in applying them. The art of putting ular item in the education of a gentleman. out a young lady will no doubt become a regJust as nice young men are valued now for their dexterity in putting on a lady's shawl or cloak, so, in a few years, the ideal dandy will be known by his skill in throwing a young lady down and rolling her in the rug the men will get accustomed to their duties or blanket. It is probable that after a time as drawing-room firemen, and will not be backward to perform them. Of course, a still simpler escape from the danger, even than the wet blankets or wet rugs, would be found if young ladies would abandon the practice of inserting themselves into the centre of muslin of the trouble, especially as the Empress of balloons. This seems the simplest way out the French, at whose bidding the cage was originally introduced among the obsequious fashionables of London, is understood no longer to insist on it. But these specious hopes are not likely to be realized. The fashion of crinoline rests on foundations too sure to be easily shaken. In the first place, it consumes garb of ten years ago; and is therefore naturally popular with the dressmakers, who, if not the lawgivers of fashion, are at least the infallible exponents and interpreters of its decrees. Then it gratifies some very pardonable passions of the female heart. It enables a woman who is tolerably rich, and wishes to be thought very rich, to impress her wealth very emphatically on her neighbors; and it gives to women with bad figures a good chance of looking nearly as well as their more favored rivals. Now, as the majority of fashionable women are women who wish to seem either richer than they are or prettier than they are, it is clear that crinoline has attained a position from which it will not be easily dislodged. Something would be gained towards the preservation of human life if only non-inflammable stuffs were worn upon this muchprized garment. But, unluckily, muslin and tarlatan are advertisements of youth, and have, consequently, a stronger hold on feminine affections than even crinoline itself. There is nothing for it, therefore, but to provide an abundant supply of cold water, to be liberally applied on the first suspicion of danger.

three or four times more material than the

From The London Review.
MR. STORY'S "ROME."*

thoughts of Rome, combining what he sees with that which he has read before. Let

To have seen Rome is the crown of a lib-him do this, in an hour of pregnant meditaeral education; but he who sees it must tion such as Gibbon enjoyed when “sitting bring an instructed mind, as well as eager among the ruins of the Capitol; " and then, eyes. This spectacle, for its true contempla- if he possess a well-stored and vigorous mind, tion, requires some faculties beyond the mere he may see the majestic procession, as it were, taste for picturesque confusion of scenery, or of the successive powers, "which each the for the marvels of plastic and pictorial art. likeness of a kingly crown had on," setting It requires an imagination prepared by his- forth in past centuries from Rome, to sway torical studies to comprehend "the Eternal the destinies of mankind; and he may view city," as the monument of two completed this as a symbol of the substantial unity, bephases of the world's civilization,-a breadth | neath its various aspects, of that common life of intelligence, as well as a warmth of sym- of Europe over whose development-first in pathy, capable of embracing those vast hu- its classical, and secondly in its mediæval man interests which were once centred in stage-Rome has twice presided. These the Empire and the Papacy of ages past. It ideas freely enter the mind that is open to requires, finally, in the daylight of the pres- the intellectual influences which beset it at ent time, a clear perception that the former Rome; and no experience is more suggestive things, of which Roman majesty was the sym- than this. But to how many of the thoubol, have virtually passed away; that by the sands who yearly winter in Rome, is this new political and religious conditions of Eu- moment of fruitful contemplation granted? rope, the city of the Tiber is designated for Non cuivis homini contigit adire Corinthum ; the seat of a modern kingdom, and not of a and of those who do go to lodge for a month universal dominion. It requires, in short, in the Piazza di Spagna, and to lounge bethat we should look to her possible future as tween the Colosseum and the Vatican, few the capital of Italy, undazzled by the mystic perhaps are allowed by their leisure and by splendor of her Imperial or her Papal reign. their habits of mind to indulge in historical When thus viewed by the heirs of European reflections. culture, scholars of classical literature, disciples of Western Christianity, Rome will be to them still radiant with bright and glowing recollections; while, to the believers in social progress, to those who have faith in their own age, Rome displays plain tokens of the decay and approaching downfall of an obsolete temporal and spiritual despotism, which must soon give place to national unity and to civil and religious freedom. Such are the considerations most likely now to occur to a thoughtful English visitor in Rome.

But it is difficult for the ordinary tourist to spare time for reflection amidst all the bustle of inspecting the churches, the palaces, the galleries, the studios, the ruins, and the catacombs, besides attending the afternoon carriage parade on Monte Pincio, and the evening parties in the English quarter, which chiefly occupy the precious days of his sojourn in Rome. With all these distractions, and the imperative duty of hastily gazing at all the famous shows of the place, he is a resolute man who can pause to gather up his *Roba di Roma. By W. W. Story. In two volumes. Chapman & Hall.

But if a single visit to Rome may be fraught with such opportunities of instruction, it is certainly worth our while to share the observations of an accomplished Englishman or American who has resided there for many years. Why is it, by the way, that several American writers have entered with singular fidelity into descriptions of Rome? In the vividness and fidelity of their local coloring, they have excelled whatever has lately been written by our own countrymen on this subject. Though no transatlantic poet has yet equalled the Roman stanzas of "Childe Harold," on the other hand, neither Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, nor any other of our novelists, has succeeded like Mr. Hawthorne in rendering our impressions, whether felt in an evening visit to the Colosseum, or, as a contrast, beneath the fair dome of St. Peter's, or in any of those other well-known scenes, where the sentiment which it is customary to experience nevertheless affects us as a surprise. Above all, no writer has succeeded like Mr. Hawthorne in diffusing through the whole atmosphere of his romance that peculiar breath of Modern Rome-that strange, sweet,