fc, ^\\E-UNIVER% ^^ * fS* & _^ s 1 -n *> & I I fr $*" -X. 6> * t/Or-t I as ^l-UBRARY I * S ^lOS-ANCElfj> S i I.OF-CAIIF AttE-UNIVER% OR, SECRET MEMOIRS OF FOUR PRINCESSES: INVOLVINA NUMEROUSINTERFSTING AND CURIOUS ANECDOTZ5 CONNECTED WITH THE PRINCIPAL COURTS OF EUROPE. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. BY J. P. HURSTONE, ESQ. AUTHOROF "THENOBLECORNUTOKS," &C. &C. &C. Fugite ainor amanti ; amore amko O che fiero nemico, N'on credeteii sembianti : Che par soave, e pungente, e erudo, E men e disarraato alor ch'e audo. GUARINIj LONDON: Printed by M. Alkn, Paternoiter -Row. " FOR J. F. HUGHES, 15, PATERNOSTER-ROW; A.ND 5, WlGMORl-STREET, C A.VBKDI5H-StJOAR, Stacf? Annex 5 v. THE EDITORS OF THE PUBLICATION, ENTITLED The $A TIRIST, or Monthly II y a des reproches qui louent, ct des louarfges qui medisent. Le Due de la Rochefoucauld. GENTLEMEN, ALTHOUGH I am aware that the annexed pages contain nothing likely to attract your notice, yet as A" 3 VI LETTER TO THE EDITORS the publication of them affords me the earliest opportunity of discharging the debt of gratitude which I owe you, I conceive that I need not preface my present epistle with any apology for thus trespassing upon your valuable time- valuable inasmuch as it is con- stantly employed in the service of the public. This last observation is found- ed upon truth, if we may attach credit .to your own assertions; and being a gentleman myself by birth and educa- tion, I will not even question the ve- racity of " a society of private gentle- OF THE SATIRIST. VU I must candidly acknowledge, that from all 1 had heard concerning your work I was not led to imagine that with a generosity, unequalled in the annals of criticism, you would have stepped forward and rescued my feeble attempts at Satire from the shades of oblivion, to which the original airiness of the composition was fast hurrying them; that out of your own pockets you would have paid ten shillings to support the fame of a youthful author ; and that, regardless of the present high price of paper, you would kindly, gra- tuitously have afforded me two pages A 4 VIM LETTER TO THE EDITORS and a half of that excellent miscellany which you so ably conduct. I am aware that ill-natured souls will say> you did so, because, alas ! yoii had nothing else fit to occupy the place of the genteel critique^ that your correspondents fearing to be involved in the ruin which seems to threaten you, had one and all deserted your banners; and, in fine, that the costs ef a late action had so completely ('cained the cofters of the "society of v private gentlemen," as to disenable them, from furnishing golden induce- OF THE SATIRIST. IX ment to the sheet-authors, to wade far- ther through " the mud of literature." Far be it from me, however, to cast such reflections upon the fair fame of " a society of private gentlemen," and had I even grounds 5 for instituting such reflections, my respect for my literary eulogists would prevent my making use of them. No doubt, gentlemen, by the time you have read thus far, you will, in your attic apartment, be knocking your erudite heads together in order to A 5 X LETTER TO THE EDITORS ascertain whether I am in jest or in earnest. In order, then, to prevent your speculative abilities from being totally exhausted by this research, I beg leave to assure that you I am in down- right earnest. In proof of this asser- tion, I need only state, that since the appearance of your liberal critique, my publisher has disposed of the copies of 44 The Piccadilly Ambulator," which previously lay on his hands, and that at this moment he has not one left eithei for you or your friends. How then in what words shall I OF THE SATIRIST. XI express the obligations I owe you ? To you I am indebted for the notoriety which I now enjoy, and to you are myself and my publisher bound to re- turn the most sincere thanks for the receipt of not a few pounds. Generous minded " private gentlemen \" Me* thinks I behold your modest fronts glowing beneath the shade of your " literary laurels,'* with a hue only to be equalled by the blushing cover .of your " Monthly Meteor." . You would shrink from the praises of au author you would be thought A 6 xit LETTER TO THE EDITORS severe, and under the rugged garb of harsh criticism would hide the natural goodness of your hearts! but ah ! it will not do. Forth you must come, and receu'e that just incense which neither pnfT paragraphs in the diurnal' prints, nor the sly whispers of the admiring Jew can bestow. Yen shal> receive incense justly due to your me- rits from an AUTHOR, from one of that envious tribe that almost invariably cast* a green eye upon the display of rival talent. Yes, those of my readers, who have not had the felicity of pe- rusing the two pages and a half upon. OF THE SATIRIST. v'hic x h my fam'e is founded, shall now be favoured with the choicest .bits of that delectable little critical collation. You begin with a quotation (which I need not repeat) from our immortal bard (who I dare say never dreamt that his style would be so beautifully vari- egated, so tastefully cut and patched as in this instance it is, or that any production of his pen would be so far honored as to appear amid the flowery, meads of literature, that delight the intellectual faculties during a perusal of your nonpareil publication ,-) and in XIV LETTER TO THE EDITORS return for the compliment to my taste thus elegantly conveyed, I beg leave to present you with the following ex- tract from the work of a no less noto- rious, than Shakespeare is a celebrated author. Your natural good sense and perspicacity will doubtless direct you how to appreciate the intention of the donor, and I am certain that the gift will appear to you, gentleman, as the .Only one adequate to your exalted merits. Qb Heav'n! vouchsafe a youthful author^ 'spray'r, Stretch thy protecting arm to shield the lawyers, , Whose brieft are drawp against vile wal critics, OF THE SATIRIST. XV Who spurn thy sacred laws, trample on justice, Contemn humanity, and mock religion.* MANNERS' Edgar, or Caledonian Feuds, Fearful lest the readers of your mis- cellany should imagine me to be one of those pettifogging, ignorant scrib- blers that work for some periodical no- things, (" the society of private gen- tlemen cannot be classed with such beings/') you are careful to inform them, by the following neat apostrophe, * The interesting tragedy from which this extract is made, may be had at many of our booksellers' shops for the moderate sum of four pence That it should tome to this /" Shakespeart. XVI LETTER TO THE EDITORS that I am not only a gentleman but an author, characters which it would seem, -you do not conceive to be al- ways compatible. " Ano'ther 'squire turned author, or is it an author turn- ed 'squire?" How good natured ! That is in plain english, " gentle (or - * duped) readers, "here appears before you an esquire by his own and his publisher's account, and an author by ourV Could any thing be more favourable 1 Learning tempered by gentility is at once conferred upon me by the great OF THE SATIRIST. XVll dispensers of literary rewards ! Now there are certain cross-grained fellows who will try to persuade their friends that this apostrophe was meant to ri- dicule me; but such fellows de not know the conductors of the " Satirist" if they did, they would be conscious that these gentlemen are perfectly well aware that a writer of an indifferent novel, a satire, or " what you will," has as good a right to assume the title of 'squire as has a poetaster, or the scribbler of a tl d tragedy MAN- KERS forbid that he should not! XViii LETTER TO THE EDITORS You next proceed (you kind-hearted ' private* gentlemen/') to state, that from the beginning to the end my work exhibits immorality under the garb of meretricious sentiment and bombast, that the modest and simple youth " would shudder at hearing my anecdotes recited, or something to that effect and thus, thought you, we * A wicked wag soon after the appearance of your prospectus hinted to me, " that if the de- signation private were changed to that of invisible, certain circumstances would attach propriety to the substitution." This fellow is certainly " wor- thy the lash of the Satirist," OF THE SATIRIST. xix shall sfily insinuate to " the modest and simple youth," that there is some- thing contained in the pages of our fa- vourite work (" The Piccadilly Ambu- tor") calculated to gratify the curiosi- ty natural to " modest and simple youths." Your plan, your excellent, generous plan" has succeeded; for, my publisher informs me that . the copies of my work lately sold were mostly purchased by the apparently " modest and simple," of both sexes. Noble minded " private gentle- men!" who, to assist a youthful au- XX LETTER TO THE EDITORS thor struggling amid the waves of the literary ocean, would forfeit your self- bestowed character by condescending to commit to paper the grossest of falsehoods. Let it not be said by the ignorant, undiscerning multitude, that malignity of disposition prompted you ** to declare my work an immoral one. No for you yourselves seem well con- vinced that indelicacy and the most detestable ribaldry (which I believe are tantamount to immortality) are the best spur to the sale of a new publica- tion. * OF THE SATIRIST. XXI The following quotations which, for the benefit of the incredulous, I make from the last number of the Satirist (No. X.) will prove that I do not push forward unfounded assertions in this respect. At page 517. See the wanton, loo^e, and libidinous " Epigram to Mrs. P n, the Fair Exhibiter." But lest some should not think fit to pay half-a-crown for the enjoyment of even so capital a treat, I shall transcribe a little article, immediately succeeding the luscious epigram (luscious, although it is of the XXil LETTER TO THE EDITORS doggrel family) whose meaning can be fathomed even by " the simple and modest youth/' unless that in addition to his simplicity and modesty" he possess stupidity. " We understand that Lady L arid Mrs. P have kindly resolved to instruct our fashionable youths in the use of the globes, and that iheir school will be open every evening till further notice. They are reported jto have made some wonderful discoveries about the tropic of Cancer" OF THE SATIRIST. XXlll But the " society of private gentle- men" do not confine themselves to carnal indelicacy, they jog merrily on to hoggish filthiness, and in the course of the journey, ridicule the Ministers of the Gospel, by presenting their readers Avith " The Substance of a Sermon," from which substance I make the following extract, as a specimen of the whole of the nice production. " But 'tis that dirt, it makes me sick to tell ye, " It is that dirt which ***** What a charming work must your's be for the breakfast-table ^ " Messieurs LETTER TO THE EDITORS Satirists !" What scope your lucky stars have left for imagination's wanderings ! By the bye, now I think of it, you managed that turn most excellently, when not being able to discover any thing lewd or indecorous in my publi- cation, you told' the simpletons, who unwittingly had parted with their half crowns, " that you would not give publicity to such trash," &c. &c. now, my case with regard to your work was widely different, and you perceive that I have given a small share of publicity to part of the aho OF THE SATIRIST. XXV Riinable obscenity, which will doubt-, less immortalize your work, provided, it be riot consigned to the common hangman, that the ends of justice may. through the medium of his fire, be answered. Though a friend, who is now lookr ing over me, would have me remon- strate with you upon your falsely as- serting, that " for the plot of my love- story I was indebted to the tales of Mrs. Behn, or some equally valuab'e volume from the circulating library;" yet, 1 cannot comply with his sugge.?- VOL. T. *B LETTER TO THE EDITORS tion. I am confident that you meant not to injure me by the observation, but that you made it merely lest you might be suspected of showing me too unmixed favour; besides, I am confi- dent that you, gentlemen, well know? or-at least, that one among you knows, there is no more harm in deriving aid from Mrs. Behn than from Mrs. Rad- cliffe, and that the one act (were it committed) n-ould be as defensible on the ground of the author's not being able to write good prose, as the other is on the ground of a poetaster being capable of composing only twee-del- m and twee-del-dee verses. OF THE SATIRIST. XXV11 necessity makes authors, such authors must give something to the Public; and if the old adage be true, that " stol'n fruit is sweetest," the works of a plagiarist will be better re- lished than those of an original writer. A word or two more, and then, sweet " private gentlemen," my let- ter, but not, I hope, our correspondence is concluded. I cannot help thanking you for your improvement upon a sen- tence of my Introduction, which in the original stands thus : " The Piccadilly Ambulator is not intended for th? of *B 2 XXVlll LETTER TO THE EDITORS readers in general, though it may contri- bute to their amusement; it has been penned rather for the benefit of those to whom it is dedicated." ^ That is, " it is penned for the bene- fit of nobility, and not for that of " pri- vate gentlemen" or others, who, I be- lieve you will own, without " making a parade of your candour," compose the general -class of readers. Now, pray Messieurs Satirists, is this impro- per? and don't you think that if I \vcre to 533', the work in question was de- signed for the use of readers in general, Of THE SATIRIST. XXIX /ft would be as absurd as contributing a rational or moral paper to your " hotch- potch?" I cannot refrain from paying a tri- . bute of admiration to the extensiveness of reading which your meritorious la- bours occasionally evince from " Ho- race' 5 you jump to " Tom Thumb," from " Tom Thumb" to Homer," and from the ancient bard of Greece to " Joe Miller:" cl-propos. What says Joe about the Duchess of Kingston? I ra- ther think, the multiplicity of your pursuits, or perhaps a dose of that be- *B 3 XXX LETTER TO THE EDITORS verage, which you have honoured with a place in your sombre frontispiece, sometimes renders your brains as mud- dy as the literature through which you tell us you wade. Don't you think that, since you are scavengers, you might usefully 'pursue the duties of your calling by clearing your pericrania, iti verlum sat. I know you love c i scraps of latin. As to the bold stroke by which you aimed to render me as infamous as yo\ 'solves, namely, by the quotation from 3 our lavourite work, relative to OF THE SATIRIST. XXXI celibacy and matrimony I am sorely afraid that it will not have the effect you intended ; for, (if I mistake not) your friend the celebrated Mr. Thomas Dibdin (whose name the late Editor of the News, but now of the Exami- ner has gilt*) took the start '.of me, See the song " A Bachelor Leads an Easy Life, &c." Opera of the Cabinet. But the intention is every thing- you purposed to do me a service, and I am gratt r ;il ; nay my heart is still full, * For Heav?n's given them they are not so pleasant to feel but in return the legend is so visible, that at the first glance you see whose image and su- perscription they bear." STERNE. THE FARO TABLE, or The GAMBLING MOTHERS, a modern Fable, 2 vols. 14s. :n- .tended as a Companion to THE BAROUCHE DRIVER and HIS W IFE. To the Faro Table is added a Postscript, ly~tk&pul- lisher, which contains the particulars of the Assault .committed on him, iiy the Honourable Butler Danvers. INFIDEL MOTHER, or THREE WIN- TERS IN LONDON, a satirical Novel, in 3 vols. 18s. THE MASK OF FASHION, a domestic Tale, 2 vojs, 9s. JUST. PUBLISHED, The ROYAL INVESTIGATION, (kh edi- tion) or Vindication of the Princess of Wales. It details her Acquittal on twenty-four supposed charges, and a complete refutation of all the calum- nies circulated to her prejudice, 1 Vol. 7?. Dedi- cated to the Marchioness of Townshend. ASMODEUS, or the DEVIL IN LONDON, 3 vols. A SUMMER AT WEYMOUTH, or the. Star of Fashion, 3 Vols. 1 5s. by the Author of A Summer at Brighton. It is my intention to represent Characters such as they are in life ; but Heaven forbid that I should pourtray any person in particu- lar." LE SACK. THE ROYAL ECLIPSE ; or Delicate Facts : exhibiting the Secret Memoirs of Squire George and his Wife, 1 vol. /s. A SUMMER AT BRIGHTON; (5th edi- tion) in 4 vols. 20s. To this edition is now first added the fourth volume, containing the Memoirs and Intrigues of the Modern Lais, a well-known woman of rank and fashion : the fourth volume sold separate. LEGENDS of a NUNNERY ; a Romantic Legend, in 4 vols. 20s. THE FLORENTINES; a Talc, 1 vol. 6s. by B. Thompson, Esq. Translator of the Stran- ger, (German Theatre) . JUST PUBLISHED, The MATCH GIRL, a Novel, in 3 vols. 15s. by Mrs. Edgeworth. The WITCH of RAVENS WORTH, a Ro- mance, in 2 vols. 10s. By Mr. Brewer. STRIKING LIKENESSES, a Novel, in 4 vols.24s. by the author of the BANDIT's BRIUE, &c. CHARACTERS AT BRIGHTON, a Novel, 4 vols. 24s. by the author of the OFFSPRING OF MORTIMER, &c. The WILD BOY of the MOUNTAINS, a National Irish Tale, in 3 vols. and intended as a Companion to Miss Owenson's popular Novel, of the WILD IRISH GIRL. LORD HUBERT of ARUNDEL, aRomance, in 2 vols. The NOBLE CORNUTOES, a Collection of fashionable Tales, in 2 vols. IQs. by J. P. Hur- stone, Esq. THE BRAVO of VENICE ; (6th edition) a Romance, 1 vol. 6s. by M. G. Lewis, Esq. MEMOIRS of the public and private Life of that great STATESMAN, the late Rt. Hon. C. J. FOX, 1 vol. 4to. Dedicated to Earl Fiu- wiUiam, price ll. 11s. 6d. A New Edition of The BAROUCHE DRI- VER and HIS WIFE, a Tale for Haut Ton, 2 vols. 14s, JUST PUBLISHED, THE OFFSPRING OF MORTIMER, t>r MEMOIRS OF THE STRATFORD FAMI- LY, a Domestic Tale, 4 vols. SOs. This Novel details the secret Memoirs and curi- ous domestic Anecdotes of a noble Family high in the Favour of R- y. CHILD of MYSTERY, 3 vols. 15s. THE R L STRANGER, a tale, in one volume, price 5s. ADELGITHA ; a Play in Five Acts, 3s. (3d edition) byM. G. Lewis, Esq. performing at Drury Lane Theatre, with great applause. FEUDAL TYRANTS; a Romance, 28s. by the same author, (3d edition.) THE MONK and HIS DAUGHTER ; or the Intrigues of Amanda, a Novel, 3 vols. p ST. JUSTIN, or The HOUR of TRIAL, a Romance, in 3 vels. 15s. HERMIT of the WOOD, 3 vols. 15s. MONTONI; or CONFESSIONS OF A MONK ; a Legendary Tale, 4 vols. 20s. LUDIVOCO's TALE; -or the Black Banner ofCastle Douglas ; a Novel, 4 vols. 20s. by Amelia Stuart. FRIAR HJLDARGO ; a Romance, 5 vol? , 25s, MOYAIL INTRIGUES. SECRET HISTORY of the PRINCESS ANNE of COBOURG. THE Court of Augustus, Elector of Saxony, held at Dresden, was indubi- tably one of the most brilliant of it's time. Fetes and entertainments of every description seemed to form the sole occupation of it's inhabitants. Nothing which could contribute to the augmentation of it's splendour, such VOL. I. B 2 ^as tilts, tournaments, banquets, balls by torch-light, &c. was neglected; each day formed in itself a round of pleasure, and crowds of strang- ers flocked from every part of Europe, cither to assist at the fetes, or to par- take of the amusements which they afforded. t Among the charming Princesses who composed the family of the Elector, and who in some sert were the life and Queens of those fetes, the Princess Anne in a peculiar manner attracted the attention and excited the admira- tion of everybody: to the sweetness of an angel she added all the graces of her sex, and something heavenly in her air, which endued her with a superiority over the other ladies of the Court, similar to that which blushing Aurora exhibits in regard to the stars, wherewith the celestial canopy is be- sprinkled. There was not a Prince or Nobleman but she inspired with the most tender sentiments, at the same time that they entertained for her that profound respect which beauty and virtue, when united, fail not to com- mand. Each aspired to the felicity of B2 4 possessing so adorable a woman, and to the glory of becoming deserving of her heart and hand. In the number of her most ardent and constant admirers, the Duke of Saxony, John Casimir, who resided at Cobourg, and figured in the most splen- did style at the Court of the Elector, was supereminent. In every fete he not only distinguished himself by his agility in the course, but also by the address which he exhibited in the tournament, whence he had oftentimes borne away the palm. 5 It was the lovely Anne who distri- buted the crowns to the conquerors, and never did Casimir receive that des- tined for him, without experiencing the most lively desire o possess the hand which with such unspeakable grace adorned his forehead. There was no difficulty in reading in his eyes, what passed in his heart at such times; and what escaped the attention of the Princess was explained to her by He- len Maltiz, one of the ladies attached to her service, and who appeared to understand, rather better than her mistress, the mute language of w B 3 * women in general divine the significa- tion in a mariner truly prophetic. The delicacy of their perceptive faculties enables them to discover a kind of re- lative quality between objects the most, distant ; the heart of man is their do- main, and it seldom happens that it's inmost recesses remain unexplored by them. ** Have you not remarked, Ma- dam," said Helen one day to the Princess, " with what lively and ten- der interest the young Duke of Co* bourg has of late regarded your every motion?" " Indeed," replied the Princess, " I have frequently perceu 7 ved him gazing upon me in a very ex- traordinary manner. In the last con- versation which I had with him some few days ago^ I heard him sigh pro- foundly several times." " Of which, as- well as of the tender looks of the Duke, love was the cause." " Yester- day," resumed the Princess, " when I presented him with the crown of flowers decreed to him as the tourna- ment-prize ; he squeezed my hand and east upon me the most expressive glances." " Amorous glances," said Helen. " Seeing that I cast my eyes downwards, he retired sighing." " The 84 thing is no longer doubtful, Madam, the Duke of Cobourg loves you, aad his looks, sighs, and tender squeezing of your hand, are so many proofs of his passion." " But," said the Prin- cess, " all the other Princes regard me with similar interest, and I perceive that they too sigh profoundly. At the last ball, tjie Duke of Holstein ten- derly pressed ir>y hand within his.'* " A fresh proof, Madam, that you inspire them all with the most delicate of sentiments." " What! all smitten, of me ! nevertheless I neither can, nor in justice ought, to love more than 9 one of them." " Assuredly," replied Helen, " and he who merits the pre- ference is without doubt the Duke of Cobourg, a charming Prince, endowed with the rarest qualities." " True, but always serious, and occasionally even dark and sullen." " This sorrowful air and distant con- duct of his is entirely owing to the retired life which he has been obliged to lead in his youth. His father, the duke John Frederick, lost, as we know, his possessions, his vassals, arid his liberty, in consequence of the treaty 10 of Grumbach, and is now confined in the prisons of the Emperor. This event has, of course, much affected the son, as indeed has the confiscation of his brother's effects; which, how- ever, John WiHiam y of Weimar, has> had the generosity to restore to his- nephews. " The misfortunes of the father, and the uncertainty there is as to the fate that awaits him, have spread an air of melancholy over the physiognomy: of this excellent son, and communi- cated even to his voice a certain sad- 11 ness, which will not fail to vanish in the arms of a loving and sensible bride, whom he will cherish, and to whose felicity the sole study of his life will be to contribute. I am well persuad- ed, that if he make the demand, your father will not refuse him your hand- He will be affected by the generosity with which Casimir shares in the mis- fortunes of his parent ; with these mis- fortunes the Elector is well acquainted, he having: been commissioned to an- O nounce the imperial decree of banish- ment to the old Duke ; and it was he likewise,, who took Gotha by assault, B.6- aod delivered that Prince over to the power of the Emperor. Your father is the most upright of men, his senti- ments are as delicate as they are noble, and I am fully confident that these mo- ti-ves will determine him to give the preference to young Casimir so soon as the latter shall make known, his desire of obtaining your hand." 44 All that you tell rne, my dear He- len/' rejoined the Princess, " bears, the stamp of probability; but if the Duke should retain his sombre aad melancholy air, or should his sadness 13 increase instead of amending, would not the woman with whom he might form an alliance be excessively unfortu- nate?" " A virtuous woman, Madam, one whose thoughts are in the right place, never can be overwhelmed by misfortune. I well know that men do. not fall from Heaven endowed with all the qualities that we could wish them, to possess, as well for their own sakes as for ours, even that would have it's inconveniencies." " I have not yet formed a wish," returned Arnie, " to unite my destiny to that of any man : at the same time 1 will not use dissi- 14 mulation, but candidly acknowledge that I have been highly flattered by the respectful eagerness with which so many Princes have offered me their homage." " Consequently, rejoined Helen, < you can with little difficulty make choice from among so many adorers, unless indeed that you have a desire to listen to the proposals of each of them, and thereby determine your election." " What folly !" said the Princess, laughing, " that would nei- ther be becoming nor allowable." " You may add," rejoined Helen, " that one God, one law, and one husband, 15 are quite enough for the heart of one woman." From the time of this conversation the Princess gave particular attention to the conduct of the Duke, and commu- nicated to Helen all the remarks she made upon the subject, After many observations on the part of the Princessv the result was, that Casimir was highly enamoured of her, which, was still more positively confirmed by the avowal of her lover himself, made during a great hunting-party, in which chance pro- cured for him the advantage of accom* 1,6 panying her. For a long time he rode beside her without daring to venture a word. Anne, who loved talking, was not much flattered by the taciturnity of her companion, and very little would have caused her to testify the displea- sure which his silence gave her. " I will lay a wager," said she at length, " that your grace is inwardly vexed by your ill luck." " I, Madam, complain of my lot, when I have the good fortune to be near yoa! Ah ! Princess, blend less severity with your surmises." " Your conduct evidently 17 proves, that if I appear severe, you can- not accuse me of injustice." " Ah!" replied the Duke, sighing, " my conduct would appear less blameable in your eyes, if you were acquainted with the motive of it." " What is there wanting to your happiness ?" " All that I can possibly desire ; yet for the possession of which, I fear, I am not allowed to hope/' " Perhaps your desires are toa great?" " Alas! that is the continual cause of my fears, and of the secret toiv. ments I endure. 1 have been happy enough to obtain over many others the- advantage of accompanying you thi& IS day ; yet perchance that, which to me is a source of felicity and satisfaction,, may on your part prove quite the re- verse." " I must, indeed, have very great cause for chagrin, when I appear discontented with the companion allot- ted to me ; at present I can only com- plain of his extreme reserve. I own to you, that, like women in general, I am the declared enemy of silence, and on that account brave the shafts of satire : therefore, my dear Duke, do tell me some story of old times,, or rather give me an account of the curiosities of Co- bourg :. gaiety and pleasure, no doubt, 19 reign there. You possibly are not al- ways disposed to be their subject, but it is better to be a mourner in the house of joy, than a man of pleasure in the house of mourning." " That which I inhabit might become the asylum of hap- piness and pleasure." " What pre- vents you," said the Princess, " from entertaining those agreeable guests?" *' Nobody, Madam, can be more anxi- ous for their company than I ; but that is a pleasure which I cannot hope to en- joy, unless I could flatter myself with being able to attract them to my soli- tude by the presence of an amiable and 20 interesting woman, who would deign to dwell in it. Cobourg would then un- dergo a change : every thing there would assume a smiling and animated appear* ance, and from that moment it would become tame a new Eden, in which I should taste all the pleasures attendant on the purest felicity." " Well then, you must diligently seek for what you so much want." " I have already found it," replied the Duke, " but it still remains to be ascer- tained whether the person who has been, the object of my researches, will 21 consent to aid in fulfilling my inten- tions." " Is it a fair question to ask, upon whom your choice has fallen ?" " That is a secret which I propose soon to confide to you, Madam, to the Elec- tor your father. 3 ' " O," said Anne, smiling, " I now guess you are in love with my sister/' " Ah!" replied the Duke, " why name your sister, when it is you, and you alone, to whom I allude ?" As he spoke thus h^ spurred his courser, while the Princess, urging her own forward, smiled archly at him. Immediately after the chace Casimir sought out the Elector, and demanded of him the hand of Anne." " It is enough," replied that Prince, " I shall make known your proposal to the Elec- toress and to my daughter, and will communicate to you their answer ! in the mean time, you may rest assured, that I shall find pleasure in favoring your suit, and will readily consent to the proposed union.'* The Duke re- turned to Cobourg, and there impati- ently awaited the answer of the Elector. A young page at length put him out of Buspence, and brought him intelligence 23 which confirmed his fondest hopes* Casimir having loaded the youthful messenger with presents, hastened in company with him to Dresden. " Madam! Madam!" said Helen, burstinginto the Princess's apartment in breathless haste, " do you not perceive the rapid approach of the Duke of Co- bourg? For Heaven's sake,, lookout Ma- dam, his charger does not gallop, it flies. With what rapture must his heart beat !" "Ah!'* replied Anne, " his journey hither would doubtless be performed, more slowly, if he were aware that our 24 marriage cannot take place before the end of two years." " What signifies that," exclaimed Helen, " two years will quickly pass away. Remember } Madam, how long poor Jacob was obli- ged to serve Laban in order to obtain Rachel ; years appeared to him no longer than if they were days/' " Yes," said the Princess, " so we are indeed told." " And thus it always is, Madam. Interrogate married men, and they will tell you that their time of courtship was the happiest and apparently the shortest of their whole lives." The Duke now approached, and throwing himself at the 25 feet of the Princess, presented her with a lovely little cupid wrought in amber and incased in a box of gold ; it's wings, bo\v, quiver and arrows, were composed of the same metal ; each arm was orna- mented with a bracelet set with pieci- ous stones, and it's eyes were formed of two large diamonds. This truly roy- al present, at that time equally rare and curious, is still to be seen in the cabinet of the Elector among the rest of the curiosities which are shown there. The Princess having gazed with rapture up- on the beautiful cupid, gave the Duke VOL, i. c 26 in return an amber hand ornamented with a most superb ring. These reciprocal presents were fol- lowed by splendid fetes, which lasted for several weeks ; the necessary settle- ments were made, the day for the ce- lebration of the nuptials was fixed for two years afterwards, and they were consummated in effect on the 6th Ma From this moment the Duke paid as- siduous attention to the Princess, and seldom quitted her presence for an in- Sf slant. The whole time that he remain- ed at Dresden was occupied in brilliant entertainments of every kind, which ne- vertheless had so little effect upon him as in no respect to change his general character; so lively was the grief he felt, and so deep the impression made upon him by the misfortunes of his father, who still bewailed the loss of liberty. Having nearly lost all hope of reco- vering the property which had belonged to his ancestors, he could hardly believe the happiness to be real that awaited him. Naturally sorrowful, and of a me- 28 lancholy disposition even from his ten- derest years, he preserved his sombre and serious air when arrived at a ma- ture age ; and nothing could alter his pensive brow, or cause him to shake off that austere gravity, so ill according with the gay and open air of the Prin- cesSi who, in fact, appeared to have been reared in the school of smiles and cheer- fulness. Various were opinions rela- tive to the intended alliance : thus while some entirely disapproved of the lively Anne's being united to the silent Casimir, others said that there never was a more suitable or better conceived match, inasmuch as the gaiety and good humour of the Princess would prove an antidote to the over austere habits of the Duke of Cobourg, and a balm to the mental wound which had so long been the bane of his hap- piness. Those who entertained the former opinion ceased to frequent the Court of the Elector, while the others were ? anxious, if possible, to augment the eclat of the fetes, &c. saying, that time would not fail to dissipate all the doubts started concerning the young couple's c 3 30 future felicity. The ladies of the Court used also to remark, " The gaiety, the lively and winning manners of the Prin- cess, will soon dispel the clouds of sor- row which overshadow the counte- nance of her intended spouse, and the address with which she will administer to him the cup of pleasure, will cause him to taste bliss of which he at present has no conception, but which will ren- der him an object of universal envy.'* Each of these soothsayers voluntarily engaged to prove her assertion. The Chancellor, a man of sound sense, ob- 31 served, shaking his head, " The habits of Summer are ill suited to Autumn." The confessor likewise made his reflec- tions, and maintained that Providence, wise in all it's acts, did not without reason consign chearfulness, to the arms of sadness. In short, every body, the jester of the Court not excepted, gave an opinion upon the subject. The lat- ter shrewdly observed, on being asked what he thought of the projected mar- riage, " a mettlesome horse is ill adapt- ed to an aukward rider." What our young lovers thought of the lot that awaited them, nobody knew; Helen C 4 32 had various conversations with the Prin- cess, who unaccustomed to reflect veiy deeply upon any thing that concerned her, implicitly gave credit to many as- sertions made -by the former relative to the excellent qualities of the young Duke, assertions which probably had ao o&her foundation than the good wishes of the assertor. The two probationary years having passed over, the marriage-ceremony was celebrated with great pomp at Dresdeto ; and as soon as the customary rejoicings were concluded, the Duke, in company 33 with his lovely bride, quitted that bust- ling city for the calm, re treat of Cobourg. Anne, recovered from the intoxication, occasioned by such innumerable plea- sures, was somewhat astonished by the silence that reigned in the new asy- lum, whither her husband had conduct- ed her. The amusements of the Duke con- sisted in firing at marks, in hunting parties, and conferences which lasted frequently from morning till night be tween him and Ferber, a bel esprit whom he retained in his suit, inequality 94 of poet. Anne, who shared in none of those pleasures, quickly experienced sensations of ennui, and secretly be- wailed the destiny that condemned her to such a monotonous kind of life. It was however absolutely necessary that either with a good or an ill grace she should thus determine to pass, at the age of nineteen, in the society of a sor- rowful spouse, who had only attained his twenty-second year, those moments which for both of them should have been the sweetest and most agreeable of their lives. 35 The death of the Elector, her father, at length wrought a temporary change in her situation : as soon as she received the mournful news, she, with the Duke, set out for Dresden, in order to assist at the obsequies. This event, however, only served to augment her sorrow. Helen, who in the interval had like- wise been married, hastened to pay her respects to her former mistress, and to condole with her upon the occasion of her visit to Dresden. The Duchess of Cobourg having congratulated her upon her marriage, endeavoured by various questions to ascertain whether she were c 6 36 happy in her new state. " Most cer- tainly," replied Helen, " I am perfectly so, and if I have any thing to desire, it is that your happiness may equal that which I daily experience in the pre-- 'sence of the man of my heart." " Ah !" rejoined the Duchess, sighing profoundly, " the Duke of Cobourg ought never to have .wedded me. My existence when in his presence, is but death anticipated,, and a total privation of all that renders life sup- portable. The continual conversation. of the inhabitants of the dismal castle 37 of Cobourg is relative to hunting, shooting, and so forth ; and which are, in fact, the only kinds of amuse- ment that in any wise vary the tire- some existence I am obliged to spin out in that horrible mansion. The me- lancholy disposition of my lord has not hitherto allowed me even to form an idea of those Hymeneal joys^ of which I have heard so much. His cold, his lan- guid caresses, are but ill calculated for a disposition like mine, Hi* tender- ness, in short, appears to be entirely, comprised under the head of conjugal duties ; respecting the nature of which> S3 he is in the daily habit of holding forth. If for a moment he discontinues those homilies, it is in order to form hunting- parties, which condemn me to remain a solitary being at Cobourg, and there lead the life of the most wretched an- chorite. Oh! better would it have been for me had I buried myself within tfee walls of a cloister, than to have uni- ted myself to such a man." " Yet there are some pleasures n " Ah* my dear Helen," said the Princess, interrupting her, " where shall 39 I find any of which I can taste ? Not in the gallery in which the Duke amuses himself with shooting at marks, and which I cannot enter without subject- ing my eyes to be offended by the ob- jects that meet them.* It would be some pleasure to me if you were near me ; for pity*s sake therefore visit Co- * The Duke was singularly attached to indecent figures and paintings, numbers of which he had collected in this gallery. In the library of the Duke of Saxony, at Gotha, is a M. S. filled with designs, whose subjects are of the most indelicate kind; and there are likewise some at Cobourg, which cede to the former in no respect. Models, of a similar description, may be seen of Zeuzelin Saxony, TALLE XJX, 40 bourg. Prevail upon your husband to accompany you, and let me once more behold faces impressed with the image of gaiety and happiness." As soon as the funeral ceremonies of the deceased Elector 'were concluded, and that the Duke supposed he had done every thing that custom exacted> he quitted Dresden. The Duchess, in leaving the town, could not restrain a torrent of tears, on teflecting upon the solitude in which she was again about to be immersed. During their sojourn at Dresden, the Elector, his brother-in- 41 law, and the Chancellor, a man of real honor and probity, took the liberty of giving the Duke some wholesome ad- vice; the benefit of which he reaped, if we might judge from the attention he paid to the Duchess, and the apparent efforts he used to console her. Helen having repaired to Cobourg, according to the invitation of the Duch- ess, the Duke intreated of her to remain for some time with her old mistress, towards whom she- evinced so great an attachment. During six months which she passed there, Anne appeared muck more tranquil than before ; but this i-alm, which was only ostensible, las- ted no longer than the circumstances that gave rise to it. The tears where- with her eyes were filled ceased to flow for a short period, but she concealed within her heart the barbed arrow that had wounded her peace. The Duke soon grew accustomed to the sorrowful and languid air of his spouse, and in or- der to leave her to the indulgence of that melancholy of which he himself was the cause, he visited Bamberg, Kulmbach, and other places in which his sporting friends dwelt. 43 On his return finding the chagrin of the Duchess increased, he had recourse to his jester, Ferber, whose sallies were somewhat similar in their kind to the pictures placed in the gallery, of which we have just spoken. The grief and vexation of Anne experienced a daily increase, insomuch that our two spouses at length only saw each other during meals ; even at which times fre- quent altercations ensued, that obliged them to rise from table in the greatest anger. Ferber, whose enquiring eye nothing 6* escaped, could not refrain from one day saying to the Duke, in his poetical and figurative style, that his Excellency's conjugal aim did not appear very likely to reach the mark. " That gives me ve- ry little concern," replied the Duke in a phlegmatic tone, " I should be still more pleased if it were less likely to reach the mark." " Yet," rejoined Ferber, " I am well aware of your Ex- cellency's dexterity, and I have no / doubt but it will enable you to reach the mark under the most disadvantage- ous circumstances. I am however in- clined to think, that the Duchess will 45 not join in this eulogium, or felicitate you upon your talents, until you have given her proof of them by conferring upon her the pleasures of maternity. I -have already composed my poem upon the birth of the charming heir, in addi- tion to which we shall exhibit games, tournaments, &c." " Right," replied the Duke, " and I have already planned the games ; here is also a medal which I have invented upon the subject." On this medal ap- peared a courtier advancing, followed by , three females, Over their heads swift- 46 ly flew three swallows, as if avoiding the approach of Autumn. The females had an air of confidence and consci- ous security, while the courtier, on the contrary, seemed anxious to hasten the progress of the youthful God of the Sea- sons. In the exergue were these words, " he is vise thai can be content icifh one" Upon the reverse of the medal was a fox perched upon a tree, beneath which was a couple of amorous turtle-doves: the legend was " venders upon wonders" " What think you, my dear Ferber, of the idea of the fox in the tree, and 47 the turtles placed beneath ?" " It is ad- mirable, it is divine," replied the poet. " But may I ask your Excellency, what is the meaning of this allegory?" " It signifies," answered the Duke, " that one woman is adequate to my desires, and that but follow me, I am going to fire at a mark." The Duchess seeing herself entirely forsaken by the Duke, evinced still more discontent, to such a degree, that more than once the attendants of the ill- matched couple were obliged to with- draw, lest they should witness scenes of the most disgraceful nature. 48 One day when the Duke was rather intoxicated, which was not unfrequenr- ly the case, he addressed the Duchess with some humour, saying, that his wish had been to have wedded an amiable woman, but that he long since perceiv- ed he had made choice of a peevish and obstinate child. " Ah!" replied the Duchess, "the tears which you are so cruel as to make me shed, ought to prove to you that your indention never has been to consi- der me the beloved half of yourself, the object of your utmost affection. Desire, possession, satiety, have been the three epochs of your love, and with what ra- pidity have they flown ! Scarcely has . their duration been greater than that of the lightning's flash. Examine yourself internally, and you will find the solution of this enigma. Imagination has taken place of your heart. The latter remain- ed void and cold ; as soon as the intox- ication of desire was evaporated, it re- venged itself upon you for the efforts you had forced it to make through the course of a painful courtship, or rather amatory deception, and for this reason VOL. I. D 30 it is that I am obliged to pine night and day in this dismal dungeon." " It is your own fault, Madam, if you do not create pleasures for yourself." " I beseech you," said the Duchess, " to point out to me a single one which I am at liberty to enjoy. Can you be- lieve that your never-ending hunting and shooting parties are of a description to gratify the heart of a feeling and af- fectionate wife ?" " You would, no doubt," replied the 51 Duke, " prefer to them, balls, masque- rades and routes. These, however, are amusements for which I neither have, nor ever shall have any relish. My in- tention is not to make the palace of Co- bourg a place of public entertainment. This asylum of my ancestors is too ve- nerable to be converted to such purpo- ses ; it's noble antiquity never shall be sullied by pleasures of a kind unworthy of it, and only fit to be tasted by fools." " Nevertheless at Dresden I have seen you eagerly join in those pleasures, which you now censure." " The Pro- verb says, it is right to know how to howl D 2 with the wolves ; Fortunately, there is none at Cobourg: a good huntsman needs not such pleasures to whet his appetite for the chace." " I acknowledge your superiority in this species of exercise, but a hunter does not possess the requisites for ren- dering me happy ; rather let my spouse be an affectionate partner, than an ex- pert sportsman." " My duty and rhy conscience, Ma- dam, direct me how to act in this res- pect, and I know " m " Ah !" exclaimed the Princess, " consult less your duty and your con- science, and attend to the dictates of that affection you vowed to preserve towards me. Bring to your recollectiort those days passed at Dresden, wherd one of my slightest regards was held in- estimable by you. When the love which occupied your breast permitted you not to discover a blemish in the ob- ject of your affection, and only dared discover itself through the agitation oc- casioned by the presence of her whose power you acknowledged." D 3 " I was then a lover, at present I am a husband : all the illusions of love are dispelled, and I now perceive that it is a false passion to which the heart will ultimately be a dupe, unless a stop be put to it's progress. The pleasures which it promises are but shadows ; he who pursues them grasps at air, and finally ruins himself by as fruitless ef- forts to attain his end, as those who seek for the philosopher's stone. I repeat to you, Madam, that the insipidity of love's boasted pleasures have given me a distaste for female society. I might have been weak for a short space of time, 55 but I am resolved that the woman of whom I have made choice never shall be a coquet at my expence." The Duchess, no longer able to support so painful a conversation, left the apart- ment of the Duke, and retiring to her own gave free vent to her tears* The Duke, on his side, in order to get rid of the reflections occasioned by his conduct and the late conversation, ordered his horses to be saddled, and set out on a hunting-party, which lasted for three days. r 4 66 The scene which we have just de- scribed having been frequently repeated, the Duchess at length had recourse to her confessor, from whom she hoped to receive tfie consolation she so much stood in need of. The man of God could only advise her to bear her troubles with that pati- ence which became a Christian ; he then sought cut the Duke, with whom he so successfully remonstrated, that the most felicitous effects followed ; for, from this moment, his manners towards the Duchess became more gentle, and his 67 attentions so marked, that her spirits began to assume their ancient tone; and that peace for which she so long sighed, once more became the inmate of her bosom. She had for some time enjoy- % ed this tranquillity, when suddenly it's course was interrupted, though unin- tentionally., by the Duke himself, " I am of opinion,, my dear Anne," said he one day to the Duchess, " that the solitary kind of life we lend at Co- bourg is irksome to you, and for some time past I have seriously thought upon the means of enlivening this solitude : D 5 58 chance has just thrown in my way an opportunity of fulfilling my intention. The day before yesterday I became ac- quainted, at the house of the Bishop of Bamberg, with a man equally interest- ing and extraordinary, and whom I hope you will allow me to introduce to you. He is an Italian, who has travel- led over every part of the globe, and is intimately acquainted with the arts and beltcs lettres. He is a most excellent juggler, plays the most ingenious tricks with cards, &c. recounts in the most animated style an infinity of anecdotes, which would almost make you die with 59 laughing; in a word, this man has. the power of giving to every thing he ut- ters so many charms, that the time oc- cupied in hearing and seeing him passes imperceptibly away. I have invited him to come to Cobourg, and, I flatter myself, that to-morrow we shall have the pleasure of enjoying his company. It rests with him to remain here as long as he pleases, and I am perfectly assured that your happiness will expe- rience no small increase from his so- ciety." Anne, surprised by so marked and D6 60 delicate an attention upon the part of the Duke, cast herself into his arms, thanking him for the pains which he took to afford her amusement. No- thing could exceed the impatience with which our Italian was expected. Twen- ty times were persons dispatched to the highest turrets of the palace in order to discover the approach of this won- derful man, and as often was the chief page directed to repair to the avenue and receive the guest expected with so much anxiety. The reader has probably surmised 61 who the man was, thus eagerly looked for. Jerome Scoti, one of the most cele- brated men of his time, whom his con- temporaries surnamed the Magician, and whose fame will be handed down to posterity, as well by the panegyrics passed upon him, as by the medals stricken in his honor,* was a native of Placentia. At the time of our ac- quaintance with' him he was makin < * the tour of Germany, and visiting every Court where there was a chance of * See the famous collection of medals by Lock- ner, 7th Volume, pages 231, 284, 420, and 423. 62 his gaining admirers and emolument, by the display of his hocus pocus art, the secret of which he did not fear being discovered even by the most acute ob- servers. At several Courts, particularly at that of the Elector of Cologn, who lost his possessions and his Electorate on ac- count of his passion for the beautiful Countess of Mansfield, several dexter- ous feats had acquired him a name y which was never pronounced but with the greatest respect, and which obtain- ed for him the friendship of every pro- fessor and patron of the occult sciences. 63 The Duke John Casimir was among the number of the latter. From his father he inherited the most decided taste for every science of this descrip- tion, and even carried farther than he his credulity in regard to the prodigies of cabalistical philosophy. His great- est pleasure was to employ himself in such studies, and he possessed a faith which nothing could shake. Hence an idea may be formed of the rapture with which he learned the arrival of Signer Jerome at Bamberg, and of the high repute that adventurer enjoyed at the Court of the Bishop. 64- " This man must honor my palace with his presence/' said he oye day, and under pretext of going upon a hunting-party, he immediately took the route for Bamberg, in order to be- hold this astonishing man, for whom he had conceived the most profound veneration. V Nothing could exceed the pleasure which he felt in conversing with him. Scoti, who was one of the most able physiognomists of his time, fathomed the Duke at first sight, answered with the greatest complaisance every ques- 65 f tion which his curiosity suggested to him, and treated him with such pecu- liar attention, that the Duke's vanity was highly flattered, and his desire to be intimately acquainted! with the wonderful man increased. Proud of a reception which to him was the highest gratification, the Duke set no bounds to the admiration he had conceived for the Magician. " You must absolutely," said he, " do rne the favor to come to Cobourg ; my whole palace is at your disposal, inha- bit it, use it as if it were your own." 66 w I shall be cautious- of abusing such unbounded hospitality," modestly re- plied Scoti. "With the most lively sense of gratitude I accept of your Highness's gracious invitation, and thank you for the generous manner in .which you do me the honour of per- mitting me to pay my most humble devoirs to your family." " To me it will be the utmost pleasure to enjoy the company of so celebrated a man at Cobourg." " My celebrity, if in- deed I may flatter myself that I en- joy any, is the effect of mere chance." 67 " O admirable man," cried the Duke, " his ability is only to be equalled by his modesty. Ah ! it is not without reason that modesty is said to be the chiefest virtue of great men. " Modesty," said the Bishop, " is a virtue which well becomes the Chris- tian. It is indeed true that Scoti pos- sesses it in as eminent a degree as all the other qualities wherewith he is en- dowed, and that his most trivial actions mark him for a man who acts and thinks in conformity to the august prin- 68 ciples of our holy religion. My dear Jerome, you must absolutely accede to the proposal of the Duke ofCobourg. If I so easily resign my right to detain you here, it is because, as a Christian and a good neighbour, I consider myself obliged to testify this mark of high res- pect for his Highness the Duke of Co- bourg, arid it is in the name of the illustrious Scoti that I engage to fulfil the promise I have just made." " My Lord," replied the Duke witfe vivacity,, pressing the hand of the Bishop, " I feel the full force of the 69 obligation ; my gratitude is only equal- led by the joy I feel in consequence of your goodness. Now, Signer Je- rome, may I hope to have your con- sent ? " Could I refuse any thing to one who knows how to make a demand with so much grace ?" replied the Italian, inclining towards the Duke. " Yes, to-morrow as soon as the lark shall take his flight in the vast region of air, and thence chant, forth his matin notes, I shall depart from Bam- berg for Cobourg, which I trust I 70 shall reach before mid-day. He kept his word, and arrived there at the ap- pointed time. The Duke perceiving our traveller, hastened to meet him, and express the pleasure he felt at his anxiously wished-for arrival. When every com- pliment that politeness and gratitude could suggest was exhausted, he in- vited him to take his place atta*ble, and then advancing towards the Duchess said, " Behold Madam," ta- king her hand -and presenting her to the newly arrived guest, " Behold 71 the man so much respected by Kings and other Potentates, of whom I have ere now spoken to you." The Duchess, whose pleasure at the arrival of the Italian, was in no wise inferior to that of the Duke, received him in the most flattering manner, and with that grace which characte- rised her every action, declared the happiness she felt in beholding so great a man. Scoti having approached her took her hand, and placing it before her 72 said, that it was there his happiness lay. Anne who understood not the meaning of these words, was silent, only sighing profoundly. The Duke surprised at the embarrassment which she appeared to undergo, could not refrain from demanding the cause. " The presence of a man so celebra- ted, and of such consummate experi- ence," answered she, " embarrassed me, and the words he has just uttered, the meaning of which I do not understand, nly serve to augment my confusion. " Do not give way to uneasiness, 73 Madam/' rejoined Scoti, casting an x expressive look upon her, " Time, the discoverer of all things, will in- struct you in the import of the words I addressed to you. Heaven has bestowed upon you, understand- ing with a bounteous hand, hitherto seldom extended in favor of any fe- male of your age and rank; and I find a pleasure in predicting that you will acquire, in the most emi- nent degree, knowledge of every kind. Do not, I pray you, consider this eulogy in the light of prodigal incense: 'No, Madam, I am unac- YOL. I. ' E quainted with the ways of fawning flatterers." " You never flatter! and yet you passed your days in the midst of Re- rgal Courts !" sharply observed the Duke's jester. " Assuredly not," replied Scoti. " Do you imagine that Kings and Grandees never hear the language of truth ?" **. I frankly .acknowledge that I am doubly a fool," retorted the buffoon, 73 " for attempting to outface Signor Je- rome Scoti, who is Without doubt a man of wonderful abilities, and whose experience is infinitely superior to mine; but, as the Scripture itself says, " the people of this world have but an imperfect knowledge of every thing," it is possible that in his character of man he is not acquainted with the quarter of what this vast universe contains." " What say you {my son ?" gravely- demanded Scoti. 2 76 *" I say, father, that if you have carried your knowledge to such a high pitch of perfection, it is much more sublime and extensive than that of the Apostle, whose words 1 have just quoted; time, however, will perhaps instruct us to render to your high conceptions all the honour due to them." " It is the object of my wishes and my hopes," answered Scoti. The company now sat down to table, Signer Jerome spoke Jittle. The .77 Duke, on the contrary, put a thousand questions to him, to which he only returned monosyllabical answers : then suddenly leaning back in his seat, his eyes became fixed, and he remained in a state of absolute immobility, all the guests regarded him in the most profound silence. The astonishment which his singular conduct caused in the Duchess, soon communicated it- self to the Duke and the other per- sons at table, yet Scoti did not in the least alter his attitude. The buffoon's confused air added to the Duke's em- barrassment, and he thought he could E 3 r.ot do better than sen$ for L;s phy- sician. Scoti however suddenly . re- gained his natural motion, and re- garding, with an air of cheerfulness, every person around him, began to converse with a volubility that caused universal surprise. The Duke at length ventured to question him relative to his late sin- gular conduct. Scoti having demand- ed whether any thing extraordinary had occurred, " Assuredly," replied the Duke, " you have remained di- vested of motion for nearly a quarter of an hour. 79 " Very true," said Scoti, " my body was here, but the vivifying principle which animates it now waa for the time with one of my friends, who was exposed to imminent dan- ger at Dantzick." " At Dantzick," exclaimed the Duke and Duchess, " at such a dis- tance from Cobourg !" " I arrived however opportunely to his aid, and I enjoy the ineffable happiness of being able to call my- self his preserver. In what place so soever I may be, however great the distance between me and the friends I love, i always know how to mi- nister to their wants. At the slight- est desire, the most trifling need they have of seeing me, I am instantly beside them, and ready to lend them a helping hand." " And you see them :" said the Duchess. " That is not possible, Madam, the approximation of spirits can only take place in a spiritual manner.' 5 81 " I beg it as a favour of you, my dear Master," said the Jester, " that if henceforth your soul should hap- pen to quit us, you will not let it forget to carry your body along with it ; for I am not certain that it will remain quietly in this place. . An idea upon this subject has occurred to me, which I crave permission to submit to you. If it should ever happen while your soul is upon one of it's expeditions, that some ill- disposed wight took it into his head to cut your body in- pieces, reduce it to dust, in a word annihilate it, E 5 82 would your soul be enabled to return to it's old habitation without expe- riencing any kind of inconvenience ?" " Certainly net," replied Scoti, * That being the case, you would j do well not to allow your soul to quit it's post thus, lest one day or other that which I have suggested should take place : it would not be very agreeable, on your soul's return, to find it's lodging totally destroyed." *' The misfortune would, aot be so 83 great as you seem to imagine, my soul could soon find another habitation. I assure you that when my soul quits this frail clay, I feel totally in- different as to what may befal the latter." " If so," replied the buffoon, "it may go forth without shutting the door. For my own part, I must say thai it is a trifling inadvertance which I should be careful not to commit; but, it . does not becoroe a tool to meddle 6 84 *' Learn, my son," rejoined Scoti, "' to dive into the secret springs of nature's operations, and in your turn you will be a magician. The whole secret of magical science is contained .in medicinal plants, in words, and in stones, in Jierbis^ verbis^ lapidibus." " It may remain where it is, for I have no desire to discover it ; I shall nevertheless be highly gratified by a display of your wonderful talents so much talked about." Scoti perceiving that this desire was 85 seconded by every body present, rose from his chair, and advancing towards the buffoon raised the red cap from his head, whence flew a bird with distended wings. " O dear," cried the jester, " I hope it is not my soul that has taken flight my incredulity is overturned. But will this bird fly farr" " Experience is directed to con- duct and give him wing. But Ma- dam," continued Scoti, addressing the Duchess, " Why is not that rose in your bouquet fresher l w 86 The Duchess casting her eyes to- wards her bosom saw that the rose was entirely faded ; " yet," said she, turn- ing to the Duke, " it is scarcely half an hour since I myself gathered this " There is a method of restoring it's bloom," rejoined Scoti. The Duchess gave the flower to the Magician, who put ft into his glas^ which he passed to the buffoon, ordering him to empty it and then take out the rose. " Nothing could exceed the 87 nishment of those present on perceiv- ing that the rose resumed its pristine freshness and beauty, appearing as if it had but just been plucked off the tree. The buffoon presented it to the Duchess., who refused to accept of it> telling him to keep it as a. me- morial of the prodigy. Scoti again, rising from his seat, took the rose from the jester, plucked off it's leaves, and casting them in the fool's face,, directed him to view Inmself in the, mirror, Every one- burst into fits of lauglv SS ter, which were redoubled by the sur- prise testified by the simple jester, and the pain he seemed to suffer in plucking off the leaves, with which his face was studded. " It must be owned, Signer Jerome," said he, " and I am ready to attest the same when- ever you please, that you are the most astonishing and expert of men, And are all those wonders effected by inno- cent and lawful means?" " The most innocent and lawful,'' replied Scoti. 89 44 The leaves you have just thrown uport my face, would much better suit the rose-bud which graces the breast of the ^ amiable Duchess of Cobourg, and which I shall take the liberty to request of her." The Duchess having given the bud to the jester, he handed it to Scoti, who plunged it into his glass, drank off his wine, and drew forth a full bloom rose, which he presented to the Duke. The latter offered it to the Duchess, who, in her turn, gave it to Ulrich de Lichtenstein, a youthful 90 page who stood behind her, saying to him, " Give this to the damsel of your thoughts." Uirich readily accepted of the flower, and by a silence more expressive than any thing he could possibly utter, let the Duchess know the extent of his gratitude. The Duke, to whom this mute eloquence appeared inexplicable, stedfastly regarded his lady, while Scoti cast an enquiring and piercing look upon the young page, as if to ascertain the cause of the embarrassments he evin- ced. 91 From this time the conversation was made up of monosyllables, and conti- nued in the same way till the rising from table. Scoti having then caused a circle to be formed around him, drew from his pocket a pack of cards, with which he played innumerable tricks, each more surprising than the other. Remarking that they afforded the Du- chess peculiar pleasure, he offered to teach her some of them when she pleased. The company having departed, the Duchess retired to her own apartment. The Duke also betook himself to his, after having directed that wine and glasses should be carried thither, and engaged Scoti to fellow him. The Ita- lian advancing toward Ulrich, said to him, at the same time squeezing his hand, u Lichtenstein, I am your friend, you shall be happy ;" and immediately de- parted, leaving the young page asto- nished at the words he had uttered. As soon as Scoti reached the apart- ment of the Duke, he began to speak of the sources and treasures of the oc- cult sciejices. The attention where- $3 with the Duke listened to him was so lively, that he imagined he had already discovered some of those treasures in every glass he emptied. The jester at length perceiving that from reading" in his Bacchanalian conjuring book, the pleasure it afforded tended to turn his brain, he took him up in his arms, and carried him to his bed, where a crowd of golden visions presented themselves to his heated imagination. Although his whole faculties appear- ed, as it were, fettered by the effects of wine and drowsiness, he still uttered r a multiplicity of unmeaning words, which the Jester could not hear with- out shaking his head in token of dis- approbation of those infantile exclama- tions to which the juice of the grape gave rise, " All this happiness/' said he, " will not fail to vanish when he awakes, Happy illusion ! trifling but dear image! ah! save man from his reflections, and since life is but a dream, do not break it so long as it is a plea- gant one," Scoti, aware that the intoxication of the Duke would not permit him to converse for some hours, retired to the chamber allotted to him, and locked it, to enjoy at his ease his 1 ;cubrations, and uninterruptedly to prepare the dif- ferent species of tricks he purposed playing off during his visits, Anne, who wag still occupied by what she had heard and seen, sent for Hedwig, one of her women, and put many questions to her, in order to find out to whom Ulrich had given the rose with which she had presented him. " If he must only give it to the lady of his thoughts," said Hedwig, " he will 95 probably retain the flower for a consi- derable time, since I do not know one i of whom he is smitten, or to whom he has given his heart ; or if there be v_; any person -upon whom he bestows his affection, he keeps his desires under such controul, that the most piercing eye cannot discover them." The Duchess conjecturing from this r eply that Hedwig either wished to keep the secret, or was really unac- quainted with the bent of Ulrica's in- clinations, dismissed her. 97 In the mean while Rene de Teu tie- ben, treasurer to the Duke, seeing Ulrich walk ing pensively up and down the dining-room, approached him, say- ing, " You appear to be deep in thought, my dear Liechtenstein, perhaps you are reflecting upon the tricks played by Signor Jerome, that astonishing man so versed in dark, mysteries. In my hum- ble opinion, the matter is not worth the thoughts bestowed upon it ; I thiuk it wholly unworthy of a learned man to employ his time in such frivolous occu- pations ; but they are what please our .good Duke, who rewards those impos- VOL. 1. F 93 tors with a generosity that oaght to be exercised for better purposes. Here are one hundred florins, which I am directed to present to the author of those fooleries, but it is no concern . of mine ; I only wish I could dispense with carrying the money to him, when more important affairs demand my pre- sence elsewhere ; perhaps you will oblige me by performing the commis- sion in my stead. There is the money, let him give you a receipt, for those Ita- lians" " Rest assured," said Ulrich, " that I shall do just as you direct." 99 Teutlebea having departed, Uiricli proceeded to the chamber of Scot:, where he knocked for a considerable time without being able to gain admis- sion, till at length he announced to Signor Jerome the motive for his visit. The mention of the florins had the desired effect ; Scoti immediately ad- mitted Ulrich, and having apologized for not opening the door sooner, gave the required receipt, and then signified a wish to be alone. Perceiving th .t Ulrich deferred going, he assumed a look which encouraged the page to do 100 mand of him the meaning of the words he pronounced when following the Duke to his chamber. *'They signified, my friend, that you shall be happy." " How can you tell that ? M " Time discovers many things," re- turned Scoti, " I repeat that you shall be happy ; that yeu shall gather a de- licious fruit now ripening for you. Pa- tience will help you to solve this prob- lem.. We shall speak more fully upon 101 the subject in the course of a few days ; at present, J am entirely occupied in studying this long chapter adieu," Ulrich quitting the chamber of Scoti, returned to the dining-room in which was the Duchess, who on his entrance began to give some directions relative to an affair, which she wished him to perform. Profiting by a moment in which Hedwig was absent, she ex- claimed, " Noble and generous Ulrich, at the same time casting upon him a look replete with tenderness, "if I may judge of your heart by your de- F 3 102 licatc and winning conduct, you feel for me, and condemn the fate to which I am doomed. Am I deceived in har- l curing this opinion ' * It would be difficult, Madam, not to partake of a sentiment common to all who know you, and if my tongue declares the secret of my heart, pardon an v indiscretion which arises from the display of those virtues that daily offer new subject for interest and admira- tion/ 7 As he spoke thus he cast himself at 103 the feet of the Duchess, who raised him up with the utmost courtesy. Ha- ving dried up the tears which this scene caused to flow, the Duchess conversed with Ulrich upon indifferent topic?, till the return of Hedwig. The young page, in order to avoid the observations of the latter, to which his embarrassment might give rise, quit- ted the apartment under pretence of executing the orders of the Duchess. Scotj. who was by no means igno- rant of the misunderstanding which v 4 104 still in some degree existed between the Duke and the Duchess, regulated his conduct accordingly \vith such ad- dress and prudence, that he gained the good graces of both, insomuch that each was persuaded of having the most intimate and discreet confidant in the person of our Italian. The Duke did not, however, confide to him any thing of what had passed be- tween him and the Duchess, but the lat- ter, like most young and inexperienced persons, was much more communica- tive, and used no restraint in the confi- 105 dence she had in her apparently disin- terested friend. " I consider myself highly honored, Madam," said Scoti, " by this mark of your reliance upon my friendship. But you merely tell me that which I have long been acquainted with, and oftentimes I have reflected upon the means necessary to be used in order to procure for you that happiness of which you stand so much in need. Yes, I know that the Duke does not lore you, and I am also well aware that your only mode of regaining his afFec- F 5 106 tion will be by presenting him with an heir." " Ah!" replied the Duchess, "for ^ix years have I, night and day, importuned Heaven to grant me the sweet name t of mother, but hitherto my prayers have proved unavailing." " Providence, Madam, will yet, I trust, hear you: confide in me; I am your stedfast friend. Heaven has surely conducted me hither to accomplish your wishes by means of the sublime ^knowledge I possess. Yes, Madam, 107 you shall soon experience all the charms attached to the pleasing name of pa- rent ; but I repeat, that you must place the greatest confidence in me, and absolutely conform to every thing, which I shall deem necessary towards your procuring this delicious enjoyment. To-morrow morning your spouse de- parts for Eisenach, in order to be pre- sent at the tournaments, and he will be absent during several days. In this interval, I shall be occupied about a matter that nearly concerns him, and I shall have the honour of receiving you in my apartment whenever it suits you F 6 108 to visit me. Let not this proposition alarm yovi. You are speaking to your best friend, to one whom you inspire with an interest which no other person, shares with you. To you I offer my services, and it shall not be my fault if the sublime knowledge which I pos- sess be not exerted in your behajf." So saying Scoti retired, leaving the Du- chess to her reflections. She was long undetermined as to how she should act, but from not using her intellectual foetilties as she ought to have done, she at last resolved upon yielding to fresh weaknesses. 109 The Duke departed for Eisenach, and the insidious Italian attained his object. Towards midnight Anne trem- bling from the effects of mental agita- tion, quitted her apartment, and im- mediately met with Scoti, who with- out proffering a word, took her hand and conducted her to a chamber hung in black, and feebly lighted by a sin- gle lamp suspended from the ceiling. In the midst of the room was a small table upon which was placed a perfu- ming pan, wherein the most odorife- rous perfumes burned. 110 Having made a sign to the Duchess to approach this table, he took her hand, still preserving a profound silence, and placed it upon a cross covered with hieroglyphical characters ; he then raised his eyes towards Heaven; and having pronounced some unintelligible words, a piece of iron wire placed under the cross gradually rose up and encircled her finger. *' Ah! what is about to happen to me?'* cried the Duchess, with a pro- found sigh. Ill ** Take courage, Madam," said Scot!, " this is the effect of the goodness of Providence who hears your petition." At this moment terror got the better of the Duchess's fortitude, and she faint- ed in the arms of the impostor, who ta- king her to adistant part of the chamber, accomplished those libidinous views of which no- doubt the reader will form a just conception without putting me to the pain of being more explicit. Having recovered her senses, and perceiving herself in the arms of Scoii, 112 burst into a flood of tears, raising her bands towards Heaven, ex- claimed in a broken voice, " Thou hast deceived me ! vile seducer ! leave me in- stantly, thy presence is hateful to me." Scoti exhausted his rhetorical pow- ers in endeavouring to calm the agi- tation and trouble of the unhappy Duchess, who as soon as the dawn of day appeared, returned to her own apartment, where sleep refused to pour a balm into her mental wounds. Scarcely had the Duchess arisen ere 113 Scoti presented himself before her, and having entered into conversation with her on the events of the forego- ing night, he had art sufficient to lull her .conscience to rest, and to drive from her mind those reflections to which they might naturally be sup- posed to give rise. From this moment she resolved to bestow no care upon an action covered by the veil of night, and the result \vhereof seemed likely to insure to her the affection of Casimir, without his knowing the means she had used for that purpose. H4 Scoti, in order to continue her in this happy disposition, taught her to play tricks with cards, &c. with which the Duke on his return was infinitely delighted. His whole court partook of his admiration, and Anne herself found the utmost pleasure in this amuse- ment, which, alas ! she had purchased so dearly, seeing that she gained her knowledge at the price of her honour and virtue. The first step being taken, she trou- bled herself very little afterwards with virtuous scruples. Nevertheless Scoti, 115 who feared that some untoward inci- dent might disturb the calm he then enjoyed, pretended, on receiving a let- ter shortly afterwards, that an affair of the last importance demanded his pre- sence in his native country. This news gave the Duchess the greatest trouble, which she could not refrain from evinc- ing to the betrayer of her honour, but who now had gained a complete as- cendancy over her heart. . / " Make yourself perfectly easy, Ma- dam," said he, " on my return I will procure for you the pleasure of seeing, if you desire it, that Land of Promise 116 where nature displays her charms with as much grandeur as profusion. It is the only dwelling-place adapted to so divine a woman as you, and is well calulated to make you amends for the miserable life you lead in this place/* " Is it then absolutely necessary that you should leave me ? " Ah !" said Scoti, " do not by your questions augment the pain, the afflic- tion I experience at our separation. When one day you shall be initiated into the secrets of those sciences which 117 I am so well acquainted with, you will know all. I" yesterday read your destiny in one of the Celestial Con- stellations, and if you desire ?'/, you may die before the Duke, whereas if you wish that he may die before you, the most perfect felicity will be your lot." " Heaven forbid that I should form such a wish," cried Anne, "no, it would be impossible that I could en- joy happiness purchased at the expence of that of another ; and did I thiuk that Scoti could harbour an idea of the sort, I should utterly detest him." " Rest contented, Madam, I know the noble delicacy of your disposition. I knew before you spoke what would be your answer: but every instant flies upon the wings of time, each hour, each minute of mine is counted. I am well aware that you could not sup- port the idea of rendering any man un- happy ; yet there is one to whose tor- ment you are accessary : a secret grief hourly devours the amorous and feeling heart of a charming youih, who enter- tains the most tender passion for you/* Lichtenstein !" exclaimed the Du- shess. 119 " Your heart has named him, re- joined Scoti, and as he uttered these words he opened the door of the apart- ment, when the Duchess beheld Uliich walking pensively on an adjoining plat of ground. f As soon as the Duchess perceived the young page, the blood mounted in- to her cheeks, while the latter tremb- ling, cast himself at her feet. " The loveliest of women," said Scoti in a soft tone, " should be adored only by the most seducing of men, be 120 happv, love each other," he added, joining their hands, and immediately the impostor quitted the room, to- wards evening departing from Cobourg, whither he purposed never to return. If it is easy to fall when once we have wandered from* the paths of mo- rality and virtue, it is not equally so to rise and regain those paths we have been unfortunate enough to quit ; the very efforts that we make to avoid the abyss towards which we are impelled, only serve to hasten our destructive progress, without the hope of ever be- ing able to escape. Such was the state of Anne. Left nly be appreciated by the 147 Everlasting; and it is -he who will be your remunerator, when in a short time you will rejoin us." As they finished these words, they disappeared, The Duke Christian died shortly afterwards, and was interred, for- some secret cause, in quick lime. Such is the history of this Princess, from whom the sweetest disposition, could not serve to avert the misfor- tunes that overwhelmed her. It was-* in vain that I requested to see her portrait at Cobourg ; they would only US' s^ew me the chamber in which she died. In a moral point of view, nothing can excuse the faults that love made her commit ; but in the eyes of reason and the impartial reauer this Princess will cease to appear so very 'culpable wl o i it is considered to \vhat descrip- tion of man she had united her destiny, END OF VOL* I. Printed ty M. Allen, , S s s ^OF-CALIFO/?^ s r ^ *%*WW^ \ rft # UBANCtltr^ tf i I -n ^* I! 8 S '* 5/Or-s i' irr^ i \i lCO HAY1H98 8