thing necessary and suitable to my rank. All which I however regard much less than the contumely and indignities to which I am subjected in my present confinement, and the circumstance of being without any cause detained and prevented from proceeding on the business I have in other kingdoms with certain princes and noblemen for the liberation of the Queen my princess; and as it appears to me, to our great disgrace, detriment, and ruin, by those from whom I should have expected another kind of aid and assistance.

Second written Statement of James Earl of Boduel to the King of

Denmark.

Not being permitted to communicate directly, either with his Majesty or the members of his council, for the purpose of acquainting them with the motive of my coming to this kingdom, I find myself compelled to state in writing what I should have hoped to be allowed to declare orally to his Majesty; and I have to request that the worthy Mr. Peter Oxe, grand master of the said kingdom, will be pleased to lay this my statement before his said Majesty.

First, there have occurred great troubles and dissensions in Scotland, as well among the magistrates, as among the common people of that kingdom, by reason of certain of the said magistrates having endeavoured, under the cloak of religion, to forward their own private interests; and by illegal means and false pretences to reduce the kingdom to a state of subjection to their own power and authority: the consequence of which is that the said kingdom is divided into two parties. The Queen and myself having duly considered this state of things, and perceiving that it would be impracticable to restore order by violent means, without producing infinite calamities and great effusion of blood, have endeavoured to meet the difficulties of the case, and obviate the said calamities by gentle methods; and with this view the Queen demanded an assurance of safe conduct on the part of our adversaries for the purpose of conferring with them and agreeing upon such arrangements, admissible by both parties, as might lead to the perfect union and concord of her subjects, and the general benefit of the kingdom.

Accordingly, our said adversaries, with their accomplices, promised to the Queen, Lady Mary, and gave her in writing, their assurance of inviolable safe-conduct; which assurance they, however, afterwards violated and broke, when the said Queen went to communicate with them; they detaining her as a prisoner, and afterwards carrying her to the Castle of Lochleven, where she is at this day, (as has been more fully detailed in the written statement made by me for my defence) and which I beg may be presented to his Majesty, in order that he may be made acquainted with the final decision of the said Queen and her council: which was,

First, that I should solicit of his Majesty of Denmark, as the ally and confederate of the said Queen, aid, favour, and assistance, as well in troops as in vessels; for the purpose of delivering her from the captivity in which she is at present placed.

Also, that in return for the expenses attendant on such assistance, I should offer to his said Majesty to surrender the islands of Orkney and

Shetland, free, quit, and without hindrance to the crown of Denmark and Norway; as they have been already, some time heretofore.

Moreover, in order that his Majesty and the members of his council may be the better assured of the truth of the above (as mentioned in the statement made by me for my defence, and briefly comprehended also in this,) I entreat his Majesty to be pleased to cause the letters of cession of the said islands of Orkney and Shetland to be prepared, with such rigid conditions as to his said Majesty and the councillors of the kingdom of Denmark may appear most binding and secure. And I in good faith promise that the said letters shall be sealed by the Queen, myself, and the council of the kingdom of Scotland, and signed by each of us with his own hand.

Whereupon I beseech his said Majesty to vouchsafe to me an answer, that I may be enabled to acquit myself of the promise made by me to the Queen of Scotland, and the council of her kingdom, at their own earnest request; and also that they may know what they may venture to hope for, in this their extreme trouble and necessity." At Malmoe, the 18th of January, 1568.*

"Attestations of the authenticity of the above copy.

"I received this instruction (the above memorial) at the castle of Malmoe, the 13th day of January, in the year 1568, from James Bothwel, Earl of Bothwel, Duke of the Orkney isles, husband of the Queen of Scotland, &c. and delivered it at Helsingburg to Mr. Peter Oxe, present Mr. Johan Friz, Chancellor, the 16th of January, whereupon I received from themselves the answer thereto at the Castle of Copenhagen, the 21st of the said month."+

During the illness, and by the command of M. de Leopold, Secretary of State, Private Secretary of his Majesty the King of Sweden and Norway, one of the eighteen members of the Swedish Academy, Commander of the order of the Polar Star, Conservator and Director-general of the library and collection of manuscripts of the royal castle of Drottningholm, I the undersigned do certify that the copy herewith is conformable to the manuscript preserved in the said library. Stockholm, 19th June, 1824.

JOHN AUG. HASSELSTROM, Sub-librarian to the library of the royal castle of Drottningholm.

I the undersigned public and sworn notary, resident at Stockholm, do certify that before me, and in the presence of the undersigned witnesses, Mr. John Aug. Hasselstrom, Sub-librarian to the library of the royal castle of Drottningholm, signed with his own hand the above attestation. In witness whereof I have signed the present certificate, and affixed my seal of office. Done at Stockholm, this 28th June, 1824.

Witnesses,

G. Backman,

Officer in the Swedish Service.

F. L. Hogman.

GME. GOTTH. Gelinek,
Notary (Seal) Public.

This last declaration is by Mons. de DANTZAY, the French Ambassador men. tioned in page 521.

VALENTINE. CANTO 111.

O WHO can wonder, that hath felt the power
Of beauty to mysteriously attract

The

young and old-the hermit from his bower-
The very beasts, that do not keep intact,
As Spenser tells, but to their sovereign cower-
O who can wonder that it should exact
An instant homage from the youth's warm eye,
And bind him to its chariot's sovereignty!
Strange were his feelings with that blue-eyed girl,
Though he might only look on her by stealth;
For the first moment he was in a whirl,

As one who stumbles upon hidden wealth,
And fears his joy-while every glossy curl
Around his face that glowed with ruddy health,
Trembled from his emotion-on his brow
The damps hung yet, he felt he knew not how.
Still parched his tongue, his lip still hot and dry,
Though it was neither pain he felt, nor fear,
At the meridian glances of that eye-

The maid's large eye of blue, while standing near, Expecting him to speak-at length close by

To where he sat, she sat, and did appear

So gentle in her actions, and so kind,
That bolder he essayed to cool his mind

To self-possession-half unconsciously

He stretched his hand, and touched her sunny brow, Played with a straggling lock, as if to try

Whether like mortal locks those bright curls flow; And this he did so hesitatingly

As if 'twere worship paid to nought below,

But a religious rite, and that in nature

Nought perishable could bear so bright a feature.

Then pleased to find materiality

Alike his own, he first resolved to speak: His eyes had spoken long-none else were by To try his question, whether wise or weak;

And calling up his courage manfully,

He asked, with blush and many a halt and break,

"If spirits of the sun were all as they,

Lovely, and gifted, with such witchery?

"And what the spells of power which they possessed? And if they often visited the earth?"

And then he downward looked, as if he guessed
He'd done too much in giving his words birth,
And to the woods he'd fly-but he was pressed
To stay by inclination; while in mirth,

Out laughing at his speech, the maiden said :-
"In what strange nook, young hunter, were you bred?
"We from the sun?-how could the silly thought
Enter your brain?-as if you never saw,

Till now, a woman?—I do think we've caught
A wild boy of the forest-an outlaw,
Nursed by a wolf, in social life untaught;

You should have had a cloven foot or claw,
Young stranger!" said she, jestingly-while he
Looked more abashed, as he had need to be.

She seeing it, smiled sweetly in his face,
And trusted she had not offended him;
And proffering him her hand with easy grace,
To ask forgiveness' pledge in sprightly whim,
He looked on it as 'twere a dubious case-

To take or not-it was a delicate limb-
No anchorite would refuse it, pure and white,
It shamed a silver moonbeam's lonely light.
He grasped it-grasped it too with a sensation
He never felt before-an unknown treasure
Seemed heaped up in his bosom to repletion,
Delight dealt out in overflowing measure,
And with it came a gentle agitation

That scarcely ruffled o'er the tide of pleasure-
He took, and spoke not; yet he pressed the hand
And held it-why, he could not understand.

'Twas not of forethought willed, it was a deed

Of Nature's prompting-how should he know why? She teaches not as we have learned to read, Nor as we manners learn from company;

'Twas of those acts, she kindly, when there's need, Puts us upon in the emergency,

And makes us her dictation straight obey,

As birds steer through the heavens-instinctively. His hand was moist, and shook-though firmly knit Was his young frame, it was the mind's effect, Ever too strong for clay-his soul was smit

With strange emotion; he could scarce suspect
His sire had so deceived him; he had wit

Enough, with present knowledge, to correct
The erring picture which his father drew,
And to believe his hosts were earthly too.

O Nature, that hath made us what we are,
How matchless is thy power, which thus reveals
To us, like inspiration, things which care
Or study vainly with its toil assails!

We hear no voice, no dial points to where,
No book to how-yet oft when reason fails,
And thought is baffled, we are led aright—
Thy intuition bringing us the light.

Now tripping on toward that pleasant seat,

Like rosy morn came down the sister maid: Her black hair danced around her brow, each plait Appearing as on pearl a jetty braid;

Her eyes gave light around her, and innate

With health her cheek-but dark as when skies fade On summer eves and blush into the night, Mellow, voluptuous, soft, a luxury to sight. Her luscious lips waved in an artless smile, A smile of joyous innocence-her form Was made so just, that it might well beguile A Raphael's soul with heavenly beauty warm,

For the perfection of the ideal style,

Dreamed of in sinless climes that know no storm;

Her full round bosom panting from her race,

She quickly reached a welcome resting place,

And flung down, like Pomona, her ripe fruit,
Looking more rich for having been her care;
And then she bade the simple youth recruit

His appetite from her delicious fare-
Could he refuse? He gazed upon her mute,
Then on her sister, till the beauteous pair
Urged him, by smiles and chiding, not to be
So coy, but eat, and look less bashfully.

They saw him in the world and life unskilled,
And therefore spared they less the guileless jest;
They sat beside him, and his hands they filled
With clusters which they ripest deemed and best;
But sight alone a craving wish instilled,

To banquet with a keen and quenchless zest

On beauty, and no other want he knew

His

eyes fed ravenous but to feed anew.

Then might be told (though words could tell but faint) How blush succeeded blush, and thought on thought Crowded upon him, ignorant what meant

The joy of his young love by art untaught―

If love be not a term too strong to paint

The impress, much like the first woman brought
To Adam's bosom, when he woke and found
He was no more lone tenant of the ground.

He got more bold, though with simplicity
Meeting his case; but still the maidens knew
He was a novice in the ways we see

The bold coarse worldling to the sex pursue;
He spoke and acted with timidity,

Fearful to give offence; and to them grew
More pleasing for his character thus strange,
So little seen within the social range.

But I must draw my tale to its conclusion,
Though loth to quit a subject such as this:
Verse-makers love to live in sweet delusion
Of life's primeval purity, and bliss

Of nature's excellence-a dear illusion!

They love to dwell in purer scenes, I wis,
Than the world's stage can shew-no marvel, then,
They seek their themes apart from towns and men.
O youth, love, beauty! ye are linked together

In life's best hour, worth all it hath besides;
Though short the season of your summer weather,
It is the poet's heaven, where he presides,
Until time whirl you from him like a feather;
Then, as with friend, who in the dust abides,
He vainly bids you back to him once more,
And lives long years your absence to deplore.
Now the day shadows darkened on the ground,
And the sun sank in heaven, for eve was nigh,
But her fair star too strong his brightness found,
To ope in the sky's crest her shining eye;
A soothing melancholy reigned around;

And Valentine arose reluctantly

To seek his home-he nought had felt before
But gladness, travelling to his wild cave's door.