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suance of this train of reasoning, it is observable, that the greatest composers have been men who, in general talent and intellectual qualifications, were below mediocrity;-the conversation of Mozart was common-place; -Haydn was an ordinary man ;-and Handel so decidedly dull, that even Dr Burney, his admirer and eulogist, is constrained to admit it.
moderately judicious reader, to cor-
As appeals to experiment, however distant, are always better than mere argument, a few musical notes, in explanation, are added. They may assist in affording some idea of the manner in which the natural intonations of the voice are the foundation of expression in airs. The rises and falls of the voice, in plainly reading the annexed fragments of songs, were noted as nearly as possible from the piano-"Silent, oh! Moyle."-(Moore.) The forte. They are placed below the dif- mixt serious and playful;-" Bard s ferent airs, in order to shew how far, Legacy."-(Moore.) Romantic sociand in what manner, they correspond ality;-" Auld lang syne.”—(Burns.) with them. They will, of course, be Poetical joviality;-" Pass round the found to be less abrupt and marked. cup."-(Moore.) The obstacle to exThe voice naturally rises and subsides tending this experiment to an indefiby semitones, unless under the influ- nite length, is the difficulty of finding ence of excitement, or violently exert- poetry precisely adapted to the musied, when it frequently goes up an oc- cal expression of the time to which it tave at once. To make comparison is affixed;-a proof of the extreme demore easy, they are written an octave licacy of what is vulgarly considered above the reader's natural pitch. If to be one of the lowest and easiest dethe best songs of Ramsay, Burns, and partments of poetry—the art of songMoore, be tried by this test, they will, writing. I am, &c. I believe, be found, when read by a
Go where glo-ry waits thee, But, while fame e
- lates thec, Oh! still
remember me. Other arms may press thee, Dearer friends ca-ress thee,
All the joys that bless thee Sweeter far may be; But when friends are
nearest, And when joys are dearest, Oh! then remember me.
O YE may gang, my bon-nie lass, as aft as ye ha'e met me,
Where ither scenes and i-ther tongues may gar ye soon for-get me.
I ha'e na lived sae lang in June, but I can thole De-cem-ber;
So din-na think my heart shall break, howe'er it may re-mem-ber.
That scorns the eye of vul-gar light, Be-gins to bloom for sons of night,
And maids that love the moon. Oh, stay! oh, stay! Joy so seldom weaves
a chain Like this to-night, that, oh! 'tis pain To break its links so soon.
HORE GALLICE. No. I. RAYNOUARD'S STATES OF BLOIS.
PREVIOUS to entering into any discussion upon the merits of Raynouard's Tragedy, it may be necessary to give some account of the events which led to the singular catastrophe which it celebrates, and the character of those persons who were any way connected with, or opposed against, the hero of France at that period. In order to this, we have chosen to compress the historical notice which Raynouard himself has prefixed to his work, as it contains more original matter than any other book with which we are acquainted upon the subject. Without going back to the genealogies of the House of Guise for the history of their gradual ascent to dignity and power, we find them, under the reigns of the Valois Princes, possessed of almost all those offices under the crown, which comprised high rank and substantial authority; they had discovered the secret of making themselves useful to weak princes, in times of difficulty and trouble; and Francis the Second acknowledged the obligation, by permitting them, under his feeble government, to unite in their own persons, the highest civil, military, and ecclesiastical authorities; for while the Cardinal of Lorraine was giving law to the King and the Parliament, his brother, the Duke of Guise, at the head of armies, was asserting the dignity of France upon his frontiers, and driving the English back to the seas, after wringing from their powerful grasp, the last of those ancient possessions, which the chivalry of departed Henries and Edwards had won for their country, and which she had considered as consecrated to her glory.
It was at this period, when Francis Duke of Guise was honoured by the applause of the people and the gratitude of his king, that the Calvinists of France began to form a more powerful political body. Their party had been greatly increased by the accession of Anthony, King of Navarre, the Prince of Condé, Admiral Coligny, and many others of high influence and great political ability; and thus strengthened, they were encouraged to demand
a reform of the evils of which they complained, and the many oppressions and abuses of the Catholic church. The impolitic and severe persecution of Francis First and his son Henry, and the indecent method of confiscation adopted by the latter sovereign, of granting the estates of the proscribed to Madame de Valentinois, his mistress, had given, independent of any other consideration, an appearance of truth and justice to their complaints and their cause. The outcry was too loud to be stifled, and Catherine de Medicis, who hated equally the Reformed and the Guises, was yet compelled to choose a champion in the person of the Duke, to oppose the storm which was rapidly gathering around, and threatening the royal authority-The marriage of her son with the niece of the Duke, (the unfortunate Mary Stuart,) strengthened her determination, and her union with the house of Guise became immediately the signal of revolt, as the nobles of the reformed party quitted the court, and prepared to oppose its measures.
Francis of Guise did not disappoint the hope entertained of his courage and talents by his sovereign and Catherine; the battle on the plains of Dreax, which witnessed the defeat of the Reformed, and the captivity of the Prince of Condé, revived the spirits of the court, and prepared it to anticipate new triumphs, in the expected subjugation of Orleans. Francis of Guise, attended by his son, the Prince de Joinville, seated himself before the walls of the city, from which he was destined never to depart with life. The sword of the assassin Poltrot arrested his brilliant career, and public fanaticism, leagued with private revenge, (for reluctantly we are compelled to admit the impli cation of Coligny,) effected the destruction of a gigantic power, which was rapidly rising above all cotemporaries, and throwing a shadow even upon the throne itself. In his dying moments, he bestowed forgiveness upon his murderer, and gave such lessons of humanity and moderation to his son, as to leave posterity doubtful whether
such sentiments sprung only from the horror of his sudden and premature death, or from a conviction of their truth, purchased by the experience of his anxious and stormy life.
However this may be, his son and successor, Henry Duke of Guise, chose rather to remember the deeds of his father's life, than the words of his deathbed; his hatred of the Calvinists was augmented by his loss; and, with his two brothers, Charles, Duke of Mayentz, and Louis, Cardinal of Guise, soon shewed himself ready to second the hatred of Catherine, and the resentment of Charles the Ninth, against the Reformed, by publicly swearing never to know repose till he had avenged the cowardly murder of his father upon his assassins.
But it was neither the wish nor the intention of the politic Catherine to elevate this young Prince to the overgrown power of his father-he had al、 ready too plainly manifested what he was likely to become, and the anecdote related+ by Margaret of Valois, of the spirit of his youth, was corroborated by his subsequent conduct as a man; the child who chose always to be the master of his playmates-the youth who so proudly exhibited his aspiring device of "Rient de petit," and the man who was capable of forming and conducting such an association as the League, was too well known to Medicis to be trusted, and his timely retreat into Hungary alone preserved him from the consequences of his presumption.
Although the plot of the Reformed to seize the king's person, and in his name destroy his party, and disperse his friends, again made the House of Guise necessary to the throne, yet proof is still wanting of any share being taken by that illustrious family in the horrible celebration of St Bartholomew, that detestable conspiracy of a king against his subjects. Many acquit them of the charge, and even their enemies admit, that when their undying hate and desire of revenge was appeased by the death of Coligny, they used their utmost endeavours to
preserve the affrighted Calvinists, and assuage the brutal fury of the people.‡ Certain it is, that neither the Duke nor Cardinal of Guise were present at the council where this conspiracy was planned, and that the cowardly Charles, after throwing all the odium of the act upon the Guises, boldly acquitted them, bytaking it upon himself, when he discovered that he might do so with impunity.
The death of Charles the Ninththe accession of the fugitive King of Poland to the throne of France, and the formation of another party, which had joined the Huguenots against the court, headed by the Duke of Alençon, were sufficient motives for Catherine, ever faithful to her system of holding the balance between parties, to offer terms of friendship and alliance to the Guises, and these, on their part, were gladly accepted. War was declared against the Reformed, and the King, idle, weak, and plunged in dissolute pleasures, was content to resign his sceptre to their discretion, and occupied himself with the most absurd practices of superstitious devotion. A ball one day was followed by a religious procession on the next, in which the King marched with uncovered head, bare feet, a crucifix in one hand, and a scourge in the other-in these gracious absurdities he was encouraged by the Guises, who applauded that edifying example, from which the reflecting part of his subjects shrunk in horror, and more loudly called for a correction of those abuses which they now saw supported and encouraged by the power and the precedent of the monarch.
Melancholy as this spectacle was for France, it was rendered still more so, by a farther proof which the king gave of the deplorable weakness of his character. A pain in the ear, which had for some time distressed him, was construed into the effect of poison, which he persisted to believe had been administered to him by his brother, the Duke of Alençon. Confident in the justice of his accusation, he summoned Henry of Navarre to his presence, and by the most artful representations
Margaret of Valois' Memoirs.-She relates her objection to him as a child, on account of his imperious disposition.
Spirit of the League. Manuscripts of Augustus Conen.-La Popiliniere, Book
of his proximity to the crown, on the removal of the sole barrier before it, instigated him to the murder of the Duke. But it was no easy task to shake the honesty of the good Bearnois. Henry III. found it impossible, and he was compelled to leave the care of his malady and the cure of his revenge equally to the healing or the avenging hand of time.
The credit and reputation of the Duke of Guise rose higher for the contrast afforded by the vices and follies of the monarch. At the coronation, he had the boldness to declare his resolution of stabbing the Duke of Monpensier, even at the foot of the altar, if he persisted in his intention of taking precedence of him at that ceremony. The King was compelled to submit to the imperious demands of Guise; and the marriage of the Prince soon after with a Princess of the House of Lorraine, was still more gratifying to his pride, and a stronger confirmation of his authority. He trusted, through the ascendancy of his kinswoman, to govern, in the King's name, with the plenitude of regal authority; nor could he have failed to accomplish this object, had not the Queen-Mother, the far-sighted Catherine, divined his intentions, and used her utmost ability to traverse and defeat his projects.
But defeat was not always to be the destiny of Guise. Called to the head of the army by the revolt of the Duke of Alençon, and the invasion of the German Protestants, (marching to the assistance of their brethren in France,) he gained immortal glory at Chateau Thiery, where he met and defeated the rebels; receiving in the contest a wound, which, carrying off a part of his cheek and left ear, stamped upon him an indelible scar, in which he ever gloried, and which procured for him the cognomen of Balafré, or the Slashed; but his exultation was damped by the peace which the Queen-Mother found it necessary to make with the malcontents, and which assured to them the free exercise of the religion which they had chosen. It was entirely against his views; and, in order to balance the power thus gained by the opposite party, he immediately,
though in secret, set on foot the ancient project of forming a Catholic League, to oppose the association of the Reformed. This scheme had originally been planned in the lifetime of his father, but abandoned upon his murder, as his son was too young to fill the arduous office of chief. At twenty-five, he realized these projects. Under the mask of gaiety and indifference to public business, he arranged this powerful association, which consisted of all the Catholic nobles and princes of France, and many of those of other countries; and was encouraged by the highest promises of service and protection from Philip II. of Spain. Continual success crowned the views of the Duke of Guise; by his ingenuity in turning the elections in favour of the Catholic deputies, he had defeated the objects which had induced the reformed to demand the convocation of Blois, and this success, together with the applause which followed it, and the devoted attachment of the League to his person, persuaded the Duke, that nothing was farther worthy his enterprize except the crown itself; and to the securing this desired and coveted object, was exerted all the energy of his powerful mind, and all the courage of his vehement spirit. His friends have denied that such was his intention, but were history silent, abundant proof might be discovered in the work of an advocate called David, a friend of the League, from whose manuscript we present our readers with the following extract:*
"Memorial upon the Means which the
Duke of Guise must employ in order to ascend the Throne of France. "And, in order to effect this, sermons should be preached in all the Catholic towns, to stir up the people, to prevent the preachings of the abominable sect from being established, according to the permission contained in their edict.
"The King should be counselled not to object to any disturbances which may be raised, but to leave all the charge (of quelling them) to the Duke de Guise, &c. &c.
"The said Sieur de Guise should give order that all the curates of towns and
* Manuscript de Bethune-King's Library.