Toward the end of the month, under the groves and other shady places, they begin to lie in heaps and to rustle to the foot of the passenger; and there they will lie till the younggers to him; they had not the dress of his acquaintance, nor leaves are grown overhead, and spring comes to look down upon them with her flowers:

the second Dutch war; and many other actions during his whole reign.

Philip the Second of Spain, after the defeat of the Armada. The Emperor Charles the Fifth, when he resigned his crown, and nobody would believe his reasons.

Julius Caesar, when Antony offered to put a diadem on his head, and the people shouted for joy to see him decline it; which he never offered to do, till he saw their dislike in their

countenances.

Fairfax, the parliament general, at the time of King

Charles's trial.

Coriolanus when he withdrew his army from Rome, at the entreaty of his mother.

Hannibal, at Antiochus's court.

Beau Fielding, at fifty years old, when in a quarrel upon the stage, he was run into his breast, which he opened and showed to the ladies, that he might move their love and pity; but they all fell a laughing.

The Count de Bussey Rabutin, when he was recalled to court after twenty years banishment into the country, and affected to make the same figure he did in his youth.-Swift.

THE WAR OF THE LEAGUE.

BY T. B. MACAULEY.

Henry IV., on his accession to the French crown, was opposed by a
large part of his subjects, under the Duke of Mayenne, with the as-
sistance of Spain and Savoy. "In March, 1590, he gained a decisive
victory over that party at Yvri. Before the battle, he addressed his
troops, 'My children, if you lose sight of your colors, rally to my white
plume-you will always find it in the path to honor and glory. His
conduct was answerable to his promise. Nothing could resist his im-
petuous valor, and the leaguers underwent a total and bloody defeat.
In the midst of the rout, Henry followed, crying, 'Save the French
and his clemency added a number of the enemies to his own army."
Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are!
And glory to our Sovereign Leige, King Henry of Navarre!
Now let there be the merry sound of music and the dance, [France!
Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasant land of
And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters,
Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters.
As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy,
For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy.
Hurrah! hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war,
Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry, and King Henry of Navarre.

Oh! how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day,
We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array;
With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers,
And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish spears.
There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land!
And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand;
And, as we look'd on them, we thought of Seine's empurpled flood,
And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood;
And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war,
To fight for his own holy name, and Henry of Navarre.

The king is come to marshal us, in all his armor drest,
And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest.
He look'd upon his people, and a tear was in his eye;
He look'd upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high.
Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing,
Down all our line, in deafening shout, "God save our Lord, the King.'

"And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may-
For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray-
Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks of war,
And be your oriflamme, to-day, the helmet of Navarre.”
Hurrah the foes are moving! Hark to the mingled din,
Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin!
The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's plain,
With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne.
Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France,
Charge for the golden lilies now, upon them with the lance!
A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest,
A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest;
And in they burst, and on they rush'd, while, like a guiding star,
Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
Now, God be praised, the day is ours! Mayenne hath turned his rein.
D'Aumale hath cried for quarter,-the Flemish Count is slain.
Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale;
The field is heap'd with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail;
And then we thought on vengeance, and all along our van,
"Remember St. Bartholomew," was pass'd from man to man;
But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foc;
Down, down with every foreigner; but let your brethren go."
Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war,
As our Sovereign Lord, King Heary, the soldier of Navarre!
Ho maidens of Vienna! Ho! matrous of Lucerne!
Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return.
Ho! Philip, send for charity, thy Mexican pistoles,
That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls!

Ho! gallant nobles of the league, look that your arms be bright!
Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night!
For our God hath crush'd the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave,
And mock'd the counsel of the wise and the valor of the brave.
Then glory to his holy name, from whom all glories are;
And glory to or Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre.

THE SIGNAL.... BY LEITCH RITCHIE.

I had occasion in May last to traverse a considerable portion of the Tyrol-not on foot, however, as such a journey ought to be performed, but in the diligence. Among the finest specimens of the picturesque I saw in the whole country, was the Castle of Salurn. Some idea may be formed of the extravagant situation of this ruin, from a vignette in the number of Mr. Brockendon's work on the Alps, which relates to the Pass of the Brenner, but only a very faint one. The very preciseness of painting, in fact, which usually gives it the advantage over poetry in description, renders it in this case less faithful to the object. It materializes, as it were, what seems nothing more than an odd and fantastic idea, even when subjected to the scrutiny of the senses. At Salurn all is dim, and shadowy, and visionary. The scenery is supernatural. It associates itself, in spite of our waking faculties, with dreams and nightly terrors, and the recollections of our haunted youth. Conceive a vast range of mountains overhanging the valley of the Adige, which seems to have been formed originally of a single rock, broken many ages ago, in some convulsion of nature, into fragments. Several of these vast masses appear to pierce the clouds with their jagged pinnacles; others, more hideous, bend over the valley as if laughing at the laws of gravitation; while many, subdivided into portions, individually huge but comparatively minute, encumber the mountain-side with their unwieldy ruins. One enormous cliff, however, in front of the picture, attracts more particularly the observation of the traveler. It is wholly unconnected with the mountain, with which it seems to vie in hight, and is of a form singularly terrific to the imagination. Every where, it presents sides that appear to be inaccessible, from their steepness, even to the chamois; and next the mountain especially, the gulf between, darkened by eternal shadow, looks like the entrance of hell itself. The top is broken into pinnacles, hung with ivy and lichen; and perched on these pinnacles are the ruins of the Castle of Salurn.

I could learn very little of the history of this remarkable object. Salurn, it seems, was a ritterbourg, or kingly castle, of some importance in the middle ages; but the immediate causes of its falling into decay are unknown. Neumaier von Ramszla, an old German traveler, says boldly, that it was impregnable till stormed by spirits, when the family immediately took to flight. A later visiter, Professor Schubert of Erlingen, assures us in his Wanderbuchlein,' that he himself saw something. For my part, I saw nothing but old walls, most romantically situated; and I should have been very well satisfied to have attributed their dilapidation to the change that has taken place in the system of warfare and the habits of the people, had it not been for one of my fellow-travelers.

This person was a Bavarian, apparently of the military order, and bore the marks of having been handsome in his youth. He was, however, much disfigured by hard service; and over and above a most ghastly complexion, had a pair of eyes that nobody could meet unmoved. What was their particular form or color I know not; but perhaps Mr. Coleridge can tell-for I am sure they resembled those of the Ancient Mariner. When I inquired the name and history of the Ritterbourg, he gave me a look which I shall never forget. Nay, he seemed to be on the point of speaking; but glancing suddenly at our companions, he leaned back in his dark corner of the vehicle, where nothing could be seen but the glare of his singular eyes in the gloom.

Several times in the course of the journey to Botzen, where we were to rest for the night, my thoughts recurred involuntarily to Salurn. As we left the magical influence of the place itself, however, I was able to smile at the hold which had been taken of my imagination by the stranger, in connection with the ruined castle. It is true, thought I, he is an elderly man, but he cannot be six or seven hundred years old; in spite of his remarkable eyes, he is not the Wandering Jew! He is old enough, however, to know something which may be forgotten by other people, and that may be interesting to a dreamer like myself. I will ask him to supper.

The invitation was given and accepted. We arrived at Botzen on a cold, dark, uncomfortable night. When entering the room appropriated to me, an object I encountered at the door still more unhinged my feelings. It was the representation, admirably well executed, of a corpse standing erectnaked, ghastly, wounded, and dabbled with blood. From the cross and other peculiarities, I perceived that it was one of those statues of our Saviour which are met with at every turn, both in and out of doors, in this part of the Tyrol. It was the first I had seen, and made my blood run cold with herror.

The room was large, carpetless, floored with tile, and without fire. The rain beat against the casements, which rattled in reply. As the wind rushed groaning down the chimney, the flames of the candles wavered, forming winding-sheets innumerable on the white tallow. I wished that I had not asked the stranger to supper.

He came. He was silent, but not an unsociable man. He ate his supper without much speaking; and when the substantials had given place to walnuts and a bottle of Burgundy, he hemmed several times, and fastening his eyes upon me, awaited the signal which he knew was to be forthcoming. "Touching this Castle of Salurn," said I, "and its history and antiquities."

"I know nothing of its history and antiquities," said he. "You surprise me, sir!" "Why so? I am indeed a sort of antique myself-but I am not the Wandering Jew."

"That is just what I was thinking." The stranger smiled. "I mean," continued I, " that I should not take you to be so very elderly a personage. But the truth is, I imagined from a certain intelligence in your expression as we passed Salurn, hat you could tell something about the castle if you would." "You were right. My story, however, is a modern one; and one that, connected as it is with my family history, and reviving recollections, some of pain, and all of interest, I do not choose to recite in a public company. My visit to Salurn was attended, most unexpectedly to me, with circumstances of public moment; and as you appear to be actuated by nothing more than literary curiosity, you are welcome to listen to a page of Tyrolese history.""

I apologized to the old man for my folly, (discovering at the moment, as the warm hue of life was spread over his complexion by the effects of the wine, that his eyes were not so very remarkable,) and requested him to proceed with his narrative which I knew I should find, at least so I said, more interesting than all the ghost stories in the world. The following is, as nearly as I can recollect, the substance of what he told me:

My regiment was stationed at Trent, from 1806, when the Tyrol was ceded to Bavaria by the Treaty of Petersburg, till 1809, the commencement of the present war. This period, of three years, I number among the most remarkable in my life. The early part of it, however, was spent in the lassitude, both of mind and body, which garrison-troops are so liable to fall into when they find themselves suddenly in a place destitute of the unmeaning nothings which fill up the life of a soldier during peace, under the name of amusement. There were no balls, no dinners, no promenades. The inhabitants were either less civilized in their recreations than we of Bavaria, or, even then, their fit of sullenness had commenced, before they could point out a pretext for discontent.

We were in fact shunned-sent to Coventry, as the English say; and it is not to be supposed that we received with any affectation of mildness the tacit insult. Some disorders took place not strictly in consonance with civil etiquette. The inhabitants no longer remained silent; and instead of keeping aloof, as heretofore, they closed upon us with somewhat too much familiarity. In short, a series of mutual aggressions took place, which kept the town in a perpetual ferment.

One day, in the midst of this anarchy, being somewhat heated with wine after dinner, it was proposed by two or three young officers, to present ourselves uninvited at an evening party, which we understood was to be given at a house in the neighborhood of the town. In a perfectly sober moment I should have thought the frolic too boyish. However, out we sallied, to the number of four, and took the way to the scene of action, laughing boisterously at the idea of a Tyrolese soirée. Sending in our cards, we followed upon the heels of the astonished servant, and speedily found ourselves in a room filled with apparently genteel company of both sexes.

The conversation stopped; all eyes were turned upon the intruders; and after a moment's pause, the master of the house, bowing politely, asked us to sit down. We had come prepared to find informality repelled with rudeness, and after a little badinage with the country girls,' to get back to our quarters sword in hand. We indeed looked a little foolish, and had it not been for the good sense and readiness of one of my comrades-a young Frenchman-we should perhaps have slunk away as suddenly as we had entered. He apologized with great frankness, bewailing the dullness of a garrison life, and imploring the ladies to mediate between us and the prejudices of their countrymen; and in a very short time we found ourselves as much at home as if we had come by invitation.

There was one of the ladies to whom I more particularly attached myself. She was very young, but possessed a splendor of beauty which constituted her the star of the evening, and entitied her to the exclusive homage of the senior officers. Dorathen herself did not seem to be displeased with her conquest, but on the contrary paid me every attention that was consistent with delicacy and good breeding; and indeed the whole party by degrees began to exhibit unequivocal symptoms of good humor and cordiality, with the exception of one man. This individual, whose name was Rusen, possessed not a line of the German physiognomy, but was evidently a decided Italian, although residing here in the confluence of the blood of the two races. His features were handsome, but his complexion singularly dark, and his eyes of a fierce and sinister expression; which contrasted strongly with the ingenuous blue orbs of Dorathen. The latter was evidently not only his mistress but his affianced bride; and there appeared to exist between them the kind of mysterious confidence which is usually observed among lovers.

By degrees, as my sudden acquaintance with Dorathen seemed to approach toward familiarity, Rusen became first un easy, then indignant, then cold and distant. His mistress, who treated his frowns with almost contempt, became alarmed at his desertion, and put in practice a thousand familiar wiles to lure him back to her chair. Was not this like love? And yet I could read something in her eyes that told a d fferent tale. There seemed to be nothing tender in her uneasiness; and once or twice I detected in her stolen glance an expression of fear rather than timidity.

The hour of parting came, and I requested permission to escort Dorathen home, understanding that she resided at some distance on the Botzen road. This was declined on the plea of a similar engagement with Rusen. The latter, however, although within earshot, would not hear. He did not stir from his place; the company had almost all left the house; and Dorathen, at last, with hightening color, put her arm within mine, and calling her servant, we went out together. The night was dark and the way solitary. The servant walked before us with a lantern. Dorathen answered incoherently to my remarks: her thoughts seemed absent and perplexed. At last, suddenly interrupting me

"Sir," said she, "you are a stranger in this part of the country, and as a Bavarian, the inhabitants imagine that they owe you no good will. For my part, I am at home, and am known both to the townsmen and peasantry; I am under the protection, too, of a trusty servant. Return to your barracks, I entreat you-return speedily, and not too openly-and forget that I was ever so weak as to accept of a politeness which may cost you but too much!"

She was agitated. She pressed my arm as she spoke, and her words came low and muffled, as if she dreaded that some one should overhear her. For my part, I was touched and interested. The intoxication of wine had passed away, and I felt that of love rising upon my heart and my brain. I attributed the fears to inexperience and the natural timidity of a woman; and continued, in spite of her entreaties to enjoy my happiness.

On reaching her father's house, all was dark. The family had retired to bed, and she tapped lightly on a window. The window opened; and after whispering for a minute with some one within, a coarse cloak and a peasant's hat were handed to her.

"I entreated you to return," said she, "while yet no disguise would have been necessary. You owe it to me now, were it only for the sake of my own peace of mind, to do me the small favor of throwing this cloak upon your shoulders, and concealing your military cap with this broad-brimmed hat."

"What is it you apprehend?" demanded I, in some surprise-" the Tyrolese and Bavarians are now one nation; we are not in war; the clowns capable of forming opinion, laugh aloud at their late Austrian Constitution; and even the peasants will soon get reconciled to a Government which demands nothing more than order and submission to lawful authority." "There is no lawful authority," said the pretty rebel, “either in the sword or the pen-either in battles or treaties." "In what then, for heaven's sake?"

"In the will of the majority of the nation."

"In the will of the majority of the nation! In the will of an ignorant and ferocious peasantry, who can neither read nor write, and who are equally unacquainted even with the geographical position of Bavaria and Austria!”

"I will not argue with you," said Dorathen, "on a subject on which we never can agree. I demand of you nothing more

than a good night's sleep, and that is what you have no right
to deprive me of."
"Alas, Dorathen," said I, "it would be in vain for me to
make such a demand of you! However, I will not now dispute
an authority which I hold to be more lawful than even that of
the majority of the nation;" and so saying, I equipped myself
in the cumbrous dress she offered.

"Now, tell me," said I, seizing her hand, and bending forward to snatch the salute which I knew the custom of the country authorized on such occasions-" tell me, Dorathen, are you engaged to the Dusky Italian?"

"Yes-no" said Dorathen hastily. I closed her lips with mine, thus accepting of the negative.

her acquaintance with one of the tyrants by saving his life. It
is dangerous for a young man, as I was then, to perplex his
mind upon such subjects. My thoughts dwelt upon the in-
teresting rebel till she became a part of myself; and at our
subsequent interviews, I had the happiness to find, or imagine,
that I was by no means an object of indifference to her.
At first she made use of the little arts of a woman to elicit
political information, or to convince me of the iniquity of the
government of which I was an agent. But by degrees she
avoided such subjects. It seemed to me that a feeling of re-
gard for my honor began to mingle with her generous, though
mistaken patriotism. She became silent, melancholy, absent;
and at last she avoided my company so sedulously that there
was sometimes a week between our meetings.
The morose
Rusen, in the mean time, whom I sometimes saw, had appa-
rently become more reconciled to my rivalship; and he even
attempted, although in vain, to force his acquaintance with me
into intimacy. This of course I attributed to political motives;
for although at that time we did not dream of actual insurrec-
tion, we were aware of the existence of a party hostile to Ba-
varian interests.

I began to retrace my steps gaily. She was the most beautiful, and the most interesting piece of womankind I had ever fallen in with; and in a country like this, she seemed nothing less than an angel descended on purpose to reconcile me to life. My thoughts, however, were soon dragged down to earth by the difficulties of the road. I had no light to guide my steps, and the night appeared to become darker and darker. Trent, however, was in view, or at least its situation was indicated by some straggling lamps in the distance, and I stumbled on I was ordered to Botzen with a small escort party for the without apprehension. Presently I saw something against the protection of some specie, which was to be transported by the dull sky, which resembled the figure of a man; but as it was way of that town to the capital. It was long since I had seen without the eccompanying sound of steps, I was in doubt. Dorathen; and certain rumors of her approaching marriage, The figure vanished; and I became convinced that it was although I could not believe them to be true, gave me much something endowed with the faculty of voluntary motion-for uneasiness. Her late conduct indeed had appeared cold and not a breath of air had passed through the gloom. A few capricious; and the length of time that had elapsed since our minutes after, I was startled by a voice close to my ear. last meeting was in part the effect of a fit of love-like sullen"Is it time?" said some one passing me from behind.-ness into which, I had fallen. I resolved, however, on the "Ay-time to be in bed," muttered I, catching by the hilt of present occasion, since business would lead me past the door my sword. The challenger passed on without rejoinder-and of her house, to condescend to enter, and afford an opportuI confess I was glad of it, for the voice was that of Rusen. Inity for explanation. was somowhat agitated, as you will allow the best soldier may be at the idea of midnight assassination; and determining that it was no longer safe to keep the main road, I struck with as little noise as possible into a by-path, determining to make a considerable circuit before venturing upon the highway again. Whether it was owing, however to my ignorance of the localities, or to my imagination bewildering itself with speculations on the revengeful jealousy of the Italians, or the dexterity of the Tyrolese at the rifle, I knew not; but in a very few minutes I had regained the road. There were some ruins, apparently those of a cottage, by the wayside, and before striking out into the valley again, I determined to make use of the cover they afforded, to take an observation. Accordingly, with my drawn sword under my cloak, for I had no pistols, I crept along the walls, and endeavored to find some point from which I could view the road before and behind.

The caution with which I moved was highly necessary; for another step would have brought me into bodily contact with a man who leaned with folded arms against a corner of the ruin. I was surprised that even the little noise I made did not attract his attention, but this was soon effected by the same ill boding voice which I had heard before.

"Is it time?" said Rusen, passing-for I was sure of the voice.

"Salurn!" exclaimed the man, starting as if from slumber. "Has he passed yet?"

"No-on my oath; not a mouse could have passed without my observation-far less a Bavarian."

"Let us go farther on, then; he cannot be many minutes longer, and the more distant we are from the town the better." The confederates moved on; and as soon as the sound of their feet died away in the distance, I stepped from my am buscade upon the highway, and made as hasty a retreat to quarters as was ever effected by a soldier on foot.

The next day I learned that Rusen was a Veronese of considerable wealth and influence, who had settled in this part of the Tyrol, for the purpose of carrying into effect some extensive manufacturing speculation. He was publicly known to be the accepted lover of Dorathen; although the lady's inclinations were supposed to be biased more by political considerations than by dreams of matrimonial happiness. She, in fact, as report represented her, was rather an extraordiny character. Although quite a girl when her country was ceded to Bavaria three years bofore, she had distinguished herself as a member of what was called the French Patriotic Association; and had continued to throw every impediment in the way of the laws, which female ingenuity could devise. I could hardly conceive that the Dorathen of this romance and my own was the same being. She had seemed to me to be the very beau ideal of gentleness and grace; and she had commenced

In the first place, however-and I am ashamed to confess it-I was guilty of the boyishness of riding past the window with my party, in the expectation of being called in. The manœuvre either being unobserved or misunderstood, I was fain to order my Lieutenant to proceed to Lavis, and there wait for me; and turning my horse, I went leisurely back. Dismounting a little way from the house, I entered a footpath which conducted to the parlor door; and finding the door open, and no servant at hand, I was just on the point of entering when arrested by the voice of Rusen.

"To-morrow night, then," said he, addressing some one in the room, "in the Castle of Salurn.”

Agreed. But hark ”—

The voice which answered was Dorathen's. I know not what idea passed through my mind at the moment; but in a few seconds I found myself again on horseback, and riding like a madman after my party.

We were far on our way to Botzen before I recovered my faculties sufficiently to reason calmly on what I had heard. The purpose of conspiracy, even did one exist, could scarcely be supposed to require the meeting of a young female with one of the other sex in a situation so wild and so remote as the Castle of Salurn. In the Tyrol there is plenty of waste ground, in the neighborhood even of the most thickly-inhabited places, for any reasonable secresy; and indeed at the very moment when I heard the rendezvous appointed, the parties were, or imagined themselves to be, in the most entire solitude. meeting of mere love or gallantry, in a place that the owls themselves must have been afraid to inhabit, was out of the question. At times I endeavored to persuade myself that what I had heard was some nightmare creation of my own jealous brain; but at all events I determined, in conclusion, in case any actual appointment had been made, to be of the party.

A

On our return from Botzen on the following evening, I halted my party in the village of Salurn, and ordering some refreshment for them and our horses, walked out alone on pretence of inquiring into the destinies of the weather. It was now dark; and as I entered the wilderness of rocks on the side of the mountain, I found that their shadow brought on a premature night, which rendered it difficult for me to distinguish the path. The ruined fortress, howeves, was full in sight, towering far above my head; and it was bright with the rays of the sun, that were altogether lost to the lower world. I had never seen this magnificent object so near, or in a light so well calculated to assist its effect; and I lost some time in contemplating the remarkable scene.

I was startled from my revery by the appearance of a little girl emerging from one of the innumerable creeks among the rocks, and running across my path. As she passed, she threw