found just by all who may have patience to explore these volumes; the piety mingled in which, seems evidently that of a madman his mother had a great many visions about the other world, and generally, on those occasions, falling into a trance, she was once very near being buried alive: Dunton seemed to possess many of her notions, His father had charged him not to marry till he was five-and-twenty; but John, who was not the most obedient of sons, fell in love at thirteen, with a Mrs. Mary Saunders. His next mistress was a young virgin, whose name he is careful of mentioning, constantly writing it "Susannah Sng." When she was banished into the country, he acquaints us, that as he was seated under the powerful ministry of|| Mr. Doolittle, the beautiful Rachel Sea- || ton gave him a fatal wound." He passed much of his time with this captivating fair one at Mr. Dawson's dancing school: and he makes the following reflection on this part of his conduct : "Man is naturally an amorous creature, which is an argument of his poverty!" Three Sarahs next succeeded; Sarah Day, Sarah Doolittle, and Sarah Briscow: on the first, he made the following anagram: "Sarah Day, D has a ray.” His wife, however, was a Miss Annesley, whom he asked, and obtained of her father. After many extravagant entertainments and merry-makings, the young cou ple opened a shop in Prince's-street, on the Sd of August, 1682. The poesy on the wedding-ring was dictated by John Dunton, and was as follows:: "God saw thee most fit for me." When he first went to America, he was strongly tempted to violate his conjugal vows, at West Cowes, which, at that time, he informs us, abounded "with a generation of the most impudent women ever met with; and we might have easily mistaken it for Rome, Venice, or Mycene." His attachments, however, seem not to have exceeded the bounds of Platonism. In a journey up the country to Natick, he lets us know he performed it on horseback, "with the flower of Boston, Madam Brick." In the Netherlands, he met with the famous almanack maker, Dr. Partridge, of whom, however, he says nothing more. In Ireland, he met with some exorcists, who were excellently famous at helping cattle that were bewitched: and was told of a troop of horse, in which one mother had two-and-twenty of her sons enlisted; he saw, also, an old lady 130 years of age, who had been under laundress to the chief lauudress of Queen Elizabeth; and he heard of a gentleman who had taken such a violent antipathy to cats, that he swooned away, because the furrier had lined his muff with catskin. His journey through | Ireland contains a number of such ridiculous stories. Dunton, in his old age, presented a memorial to George the First, in which he pleaded the great extent of his political services, and enumerated forty tracts that he || had written in favour of the Protestant succession. The Lord Sunderland's reply was, "Tell Dunton he is an impudent fellow, and has abused the greatest men in the nation." We shall close our remarks on these two volumes, by inserting the following extract of a story related to Mr. Dunton by the wife of Dr. Phœnix : EXTROARDINARY CIRCUMSTANCE. "Some years since, having been delivered of a girl, two ladies, that were then the Doctor's patients, desired the baptising of the child might be deferred till they were able to go abroad, because they had a mind to stand gossips to it. But the two ladies, not being well enough to go abroad so soon as they thought at first, a month's time was passed since the birth of the child, all which time it remained unchristened. But one day, as the Doctor's lady was in her chamber, looking for something which she wanted in a press, on a sudden she cast her eyes back, and saw, sitting down in a chair, an uncle of her's, who had been dead several years: at which, being somewhat surprised, she asked him how he did? And be, on the contrary, asked her, what was the reason she did not christen the child? She told him, it was because her husband promised two ladies should be gossips to it, and they were both yet indisposed, and could not come. The spectrum then called her to come to him, which she accordingly did; and he embraced her in his arms, and kissed her naked bosom, which, she said, she was again abroad, and his lady alone in her felt extreme cold. He then asked her where chamber, there appeared to her another specher husband was? and she told him where. trum, in the likeness of her aunt, who had been After which, he charged her to let the dead near twenty years before, with a coffin child be christened the next day, at three in her hand, and a bloody child in the coffin, o'clock in the afternoon; and then went away asking her, in a threatening manner, why the she knew not how. When the Doctor came child was not christened? She replied as she home, his lady told him what she had seen, had done to her uncle before, that her husand desired the child might be christened, ac- band delayed it on the account of two gossips, cording to the charge given by the spectrum; which could not yet come. Whereto the but the Doctor was unbelieving, and still re- spectrum, with a stern countenance, said, solved to defer it till the two ladies should 'Let there be no more such idle excuses, but come to be gossips. But the time prefixed by christen the child to-morrow, or it shall be the spectrum being past, and the child not worse for you;' and so disappeared. The christened, that night the bed clothes were lady, all in tears, tells the Doctor of the spec. a tempted to be pulled off, she crying out to trum, and prevails with him to have it christhe Doctor for help, who pulled the clothes || tened the next day; and in three days after, up with all his strength, and had much ado the child was overlaid by the nurse, and to keep them on; his wife, in the mean time, brought home in a coffin all bloody, exactly crying out grievously that somebody pinched like that which was shewn her by the last her. And the next morning, viewing of her spectrum. The Doctor confirmed that part of body, they found she was pinched black and the story which related to him; and as to the blue in several places. This did not yet pre-spectrums, his lady averred, before myself, vail with the Doctor to have his child christened, till the two ladies should come to be gossips. But a day or two after, when the Doctor Mr. Wilde, Me. Larkin, and Mr. Price, that what she related was nothing but truth." MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF ELIZABETH. Memoirs of the Court of Queen Elizabeth. By Lucy Aikin. 2 vols. 8vo. Longman and Co. THERE is not only something highly chivalrous in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, but we feel ourselves also interested by nearer and more domestic causes to be attracted by the history of that period. Our Jaws, customs, and manners, our religion, all became changed to that system which has continued, in a great measure, the same to the present day: while military glory, national achievement, and literature, in the reign of Elizabeth, attained to an height, glorious to the sovereign, and to the nation at large. this with too much poetic enthusiasm, and rendered her work more like a romance, than a real history; for we know that Queen Elizabeth could, according to the testimony of the most authentic writers, swear, like her father, by God's death, and stare young men out of countenance, while she admired, and made remarks on their manly beauty. Nor can we ever figure to ourselves, like Miss Aikin, "Diaua and her nymphs," in Elizabeth, and her “attendant beauties"-with stiff stays, their waists girded tight below their hips, and Miss Aikin has proved, with great inge- || their heads buried in enormous ruffs! We nuity, that gallantry, romance, and talent, must say, we really find this a very unclas characterized the nation under the rule of sical resemblance of the chaste Diana. We the maiden Queen: the conversation at look more to Elizabeth in a political view; whose table, though seemingly coarse to there the advantages produced to the peo the present ear of taste and refinement, was ple of England can never be sufficiently witty and sprightly, and was followed by a estimated. Commerce was extended, the drama, or a dance, in which the Queen, her- most important discoveries made, and reliself, did not disdain to be a performer. | gion established on a firm and solid basis, Miss Aikin has, however, the fault of too by a reformation devoid of fanaticism, and many female writers; she has painted all || unblinded by a party zeal. Miss Aikin commences her memoirs with the birth of Elizabeth, and narrates the close of Henry's life and reign. In the reign of the bigotted Mary, she gives an account of Elizabeth's being committed to the Tower, for being concerned in the insurrection of Sir Thomas Wyatt. This account is well given, and is one of the most interesting passages in the work: and as the writer carries Elizabeth from the scenes of humiliation and imprisonment, to the throne of her ancestors, she gradually unfolds her character; shews her, in some respects, a female despot, and discovers to the reader all those little jealousies, and envyings, from which, even a Queen is not exempt, when the consciousness of inferiority of person, and approaching age, discovers that the young and beautiful have more claim to admiration than themselves. This was Elizabeth's weak side, the ardent desire of conquest over the hearts of men. Nothing can be better described than the history of some of those unfortunate lovers, which the capricious Queen trifled with, and discarded, than by Miss Aikin, in a work, which in spite of some of its high coloured descriptions, we do not fail to pronounce true to the most material and important points of history, and extremely interesting and amusing. As a proof of this, we shall point out to our readers a few striking passages, by giving the following extracts. COMMITTAL OF ELIZABETH TO THE TOWER, O God! I speak it, having no other friends, but thee alone.' "On seeing a number of wardens, and other attendants drawn out in order, she asked, 'What meaneth this? Some one answered that it was customary on receiving a prisoner. 'If it be,' said she, I beseech you, that for my cause they may be dismissed. Immediately the poor men kneeled down, and prayed God to preserve her; for which action, they all lost their places the next day. "Going a little further, she sat down on a stone to rest herself; and the Lieutenant urging her to rise, and come in out of the cold and wet, she answered, Better sitting here, than in a worse place, for God knoweth whither you bring me.' On hearing these words, her gentleman-usher wept, for which she reproved bim; telling him he ought rather to be her comforter, especially since she knew her own truth to be such, that no man should she entered the prison, and its gloomy doors have cause to weep for her. Then rising, were locked and bolted on her. Shocked and dismayed, but still resisting the weakness of unavailing lamentation, she called for her book, and devoutly prayed that she might build her house upon the rock." CHARACTER OF LORD ROBERT DUDLEY, "We are totally uninformed of the circumstances which had recommended to her peculiar patronage, this bad son of a bad father; whose enterprises, if successful, would have disinherited of a kingdom Elizabeth herself, no less than Mary. But it is remarkable, that even under the reign of the latter, the surviving members of the Dudley family had been able to recover in great measure, from the effects of their late singular reverses. Lord Robert, soon after his release from the Tower, contrived to make himself só acceptable to King Philip, by his courtier-like attentions, and to Mary, by his diligence in posting backwards and forwards to bring her intelligence of her husband, during his long visit to the Conti "The next day being Palm Sunday, strict orders were issued for all parties to attend the churches, and carry their palms; and in the meantime she was privately removed to the Tower, attended by the Earl of Sussex, and the other Lord, three of her own ladies, three of the Queen's, and some of her officers. Several characteristic traits of her behaviour have been preserved. On reaching her melan-nent, that he earned from the latter several choly place of destination, she long refused to land at Traitor's Gate; and when the uncor teous nobleman declared, that she should not choose,' offering, however, at the same time, his cloak to protect her from the rain, she retained enough of her high spirit to put it from her, with a good dash.' As she set her foot on the ill-omened stairs, she said, Here landeth as true a subject, being a prisoner, as ever landed on these stairs; and before thee, marks of favor. Two of his brothers fought, and one fell, in the battle of St. Quintin's; and immediately afterwards the Duchess, their mother, found means, through some Spanish interest and connections, to procure the restoration in blood of all her surviving children. The appointment of Robert to the place of Master of the Ordnance soon followed; so that even before the accession of Elizabeth, he might be regarded as a rising man in the state. : recting the manner in which he should go to meet the King, if he landed at any part of Norfolk or Suffolk and lastly, we have the solemn judgment of the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Steward, and the Lord Chamberlain, on the ceremonial to be observed towards him, on his arrival by the Queen herself. His personal graces and elegant accomplish-,, we have a letter to the Duke of Norfolk, diments, are on all hands acknowledged to have been sufficiently striking, to dazzle the eyes and charm the heart of a young princess of a lively imagination, and absolute mistress of her own actions. The circumstance of his being already married, blinded her, perhaps, to the nature of her sentiments towards him, er, at least it was regarded by her as a sufficient sanction in the eyes of the public, for those manifestations of favour and esteem with which she was pleased to honour him." ་ "One paragraph is conceived with all the prudery, and the deep policy about trifles, which marked the character of Elizabeth herself. By cause the Queen's Majesty is a maid, in this case, would many things be omitted of honor and courtesy, which, otherwise were mete to be shewed to him, as in like cases, hath been of Kings of this land to others, and therefore it shall be necessary that the gravest of her council do, as of their own judgment, excuse the lack thereof to the King; and yet on their own parts, offer the supplement thereof, with reverence." ACCOUNT OF ELIZABETH'S TREATMENT OF HER LOVER, THE KING OF SWEDEN. "Eric, King of Sweden, whose hopes of final success in his addresses, were kept up in spite of the repeated denials of the Queen, by the artifice of some Englishmen at his court, who deluded him by pretended secret intelligence, had sent to her Majesty a royal present, and declared his intention of following in person. The present consisted of eighteen large pie-bald horses, and two ship loads of precious articles, which are not particularized. It does not appear that this offering was ill received; but as Elizabeth was determined not to relent in favour of the sender, she caused him to be apprized of the impositions passed upon him by the English, to whom he had given ear, at the same time, expressing her anxious hope, that he would spare himself the fatigues of a fruitless voyage. Fearing, however, that be might be already on his way, she occupied herself in preparations for receiving him, with all the hospitality and splendor due to his errand, his rank, and her own honour. It was at the same time, a business of some perplexity, so to regulate all these matters of ceremony, that neither Eric himself, nor others might conclude that he was a favoured suitor. Among the state papers of the times we find, first, a letter of counsel to the Lord Mayor, setting forth, that, Whereas certain bookbinders and stationers, did utter certain papers, wherein were printed, the face of her Majesty, and the King of Sweden, although, her Majesty was not miscontented that either her own face, or that of this King should be pourtrayed; yet, to be joined in the same paper, with him, or any other prince, who was known to have made request for marriage to her, was what she could not allow. Accord-brother's portion, with which he set out in life, ingly it was her pleasure, that the Lord Mayor should seize all such papers, and pack them up, so that none of them should get abroad. Otherwise she might seem to authorise this joining of herself in marriage to him, which might seem to touch her in honour." Next SIR CHARLES BLOUNT. "Sir Charles Blount, notwithstanding the parrowness of his present fortunes, judged it incumbent on him to give a similar proof of attachment to his Queen and country; and the circumstance affords an occasion of introducing to the notice of the reader one of the || brightest ornaments of the court of Elizabeth. "This distinguished gentleman, now in the twenty-fifth year of his age, was the second son of James, sixth Lord Mountjoy, of the ancient Norman name of Le Blande, corruptly written Blount. The family history might serve as a commentary on the reiguing follies of the English court, during two or three generations. His grandfather, a splendid courtier, consumed his resources on the ostentatious equipage with which he attended to the French wars, his master, Henry VIII., with whom he had the misfortune to be a favourite. His father squandered a diminished patrimony, still more absurdly in his search after the philosopher's stone; and the ruin of the family was so consummated by the ill-timed prodigalities of his elder brother, that when his death, without children in 1594, transmitted the title of Lord Mountjoy to Sir Charles, a thousand marks was the whole amount of the inheritance by which this honour was to be maintained. It is needless to add, that the younger was next to nothing. Having thus, his own way to make, he immediately after completing his own education at Oxford, entered himself of the Inner Temple, as meaning to pursue the profession of the law: but fortune had ordained his destiny otherwise; and being led He by his curiosity to visit the court, he there || quisition, with the eye of majesty fixed upon found a pretty strange kind of admission,' || him, (as she was wont to do to daunt men she which cannot be related with more vivacity knew not) stirred the blood of this young genthan in the original words of Naunton. tleman, insomucb, as his colour went and came; which the Queen observing, called him unto her, and gave him her hand to kiss, encouraging him with gracious words, and new looks; and so diverting her speech to the lords and ladies, she said, that she no sooner observed him, but she knew there was in him some noble blood, with some other expressions of pity towards his house. And then again, demanding his name, she said, 'Fail you not to come to the court, and I will bethink myself how to do you good.' And this was his inlet, and the beginning of his grace.' was then about twenty years of age, of a brown hair, a sweet face, a most neat composure, and tall in his person. The Queen was then at Whitehall, and at dinner, whither he came to see the fashion of the court. The Queen had soon found him out, and with a kind of an affected frown, asked the lady carver who he was? She answered, she knew him not; insomuch, that enquiry was made from one to another who he might be, till ́at length, it was told the Queen that he was brother to Lord William Mountjoy. This in ANECDOTES OF THE COURT OF BONAPARTE. Anecdotes of the Count and Family of Napoleon Bonaparte. 1 vol. 8vo. Colburn. calling her at the same time, "grosse bete!" because she shrieked at his pinches!!! Another amiable occupation of the mighty Napoleon, told us in this history, written as it seems by his champion, was setting men against their wives, by his invectives against the generality of the sex, and telling scandalous tales of them, which a man of a good disposition would have concealed. AFTER a fulsome eulogium on Napo- || he would not have dared to have spoken, leon, in a short, and not over-well written introduction, we are naturally led to imagine, that we shall behold him set forth in a most amiable light, as to his private conduct; instead of which, we find him completely disagreeable, mean, and overbearing;|| yet we have this private history palmed upon us, as being the work of a lady about his court: from many circumstances, we might have been led to swallow this bait; but the story of the old lady's "antique derriere" fathered upon one of the usurper's || brothers, has completely destroyed the illusion. More than twenty years ago, we, ourselves, heard this anecdote related by an accomplished daughter of the late Dr. Madan, of polygamical memory; and, which lady had known the old Countess in France, as much as ten years before. But to return to this wonderful object of the writer's adoration, who begins with the divorce of Napoleon, remarking that "he despised all mankind!" nor is his conduct in private life more captivating: this conqueror is described as being so weak, as to give way to fits of anger, so as to be thrown into violent convulsions; that his moments of gaiety were most odious, and that his fondness consisted in violently pinching the arms, cheeks, and ears of those he regarded; that he has often so served the royal victim, his wife, to whom, at one time of his life, || Napoleon could not have found a panegyrist, who could have defended him so ill as the writer of this volume, which, however, to do it justice, contains not only some well authenticated anecdotes, but the whole is told in that pleasing and familiar style, as to give it an air of verity, difficult to be disputed; and which we should not have been inclined ourselves to doubt: had it not been for the old story about antiques, &c., and two or three others, totally improbable, we should have been as credulous, as no doubt, are many of the readers of this amusing work, of which we shall say no more, but proceed to offer a few extracts. INTERESTING PARTICULARS RESPECTING THE DIVORCE OF NAPOLEON. "Josephine maintained her ground for a considerable time. She was universally beloved; she had been styled the good star of the Emperor, and she enjoyed as much ascendancy over him as it was possible for any body to gain. Besides, her manners were so replete |