HENRY IV. OF FRANCE, AND HIS EARLIEST AMOUR, through which he had passed from his infancy to his fiftieth year." It would doubtless be ungrateful, and even unjust, to seek minutely for the blemishes of so admirable a life, or to call a prince to account for his gallantries, who was the object of his people's love, the glory of his throne, the honour of his species, and who so well justified the motto be adopted: Invia virtuti nulla via est. THERE have been no works in modern times more popular in France than those of M. de Jouy, a member of the French Academy, the author of L'Hermite de la Chaussée d'Autin, and of Guilleaume le Francparleur. They have also met with many admirers in this country; but his Hermite de la Guiane, and his Hermite en Province, especially the latter, are but little known: indeed the Hermite en Province has but recently reached this country, though it has passed rapidly through three editions in Paris. It is conducted upon much the same system, as far as any system is pursued, as the others, and gives the pilgrimages or travels of the hermit to the south of Charente: his adventures are entertaining, and his descriptions vivid, and they are interspersed with stories and anecdotes very amusing and very little known. We quote the fol-jectured that none of the courtiers, lowing as a specimen, and in a subsequent number we shall probably make some farther extracts. Though of all princes Henry IV. was most liable to this reproach, yet, nevertheless, he is not the one who had most to fear from it. He had many mistresses, and two vile wives; but his mistresses did not rule him, and he would have sacrificed them all to Sully, as he himself said. Admitting, however, that these weaknesses tarnished his glory," he frankly required pardon for those gallantries, which in no respect injured his people, as some compensation for what he had suffered, for the troubles, the fatigues, the anxieties, and the dangers The Prince de Béarn (afterwards Henry IV.) had not reached his fifteenth year when Charles IX. arrived at Nerac in 1566, to pay a visit to the court of Navarre. The fortnight he passed there was distinguished by games and fêtes, of which young Henry soon became the hero and the ornament. Charles IX. was fond of archery; and as it was intended to afford him this diversion, it was shrewdly con not even the Duke of Guise, who excelled in the exercise, would have the imprudence to shew himself more skilful than the king. Henry, then called Harry, stepped forward, and at the first shot struck the orange which had been placed as the mark. According to the laws of the game it was his turn to begin again, but Charles opposed him, and repulsed him with displeasure. Henry drew back a few paces, and drawing his bow, aimed the shaft at the breast of his adversary. The king immediately took shelter behind some of his fat courtiers, and ordered others to remove his dangerous little cousin from his presence. game was renewed on the follow- || mance, I should have the liberty of ing day, but Charles found some arranging or of inventing a thouexcuse for staying away. The Duke sand little incidents; but I am tellof Guise, on this occasion, strucking an anecdote, and I shall therethe orange, and divided it. As fore confine myself to the relation they had no more oranges, the of the principal facts. In less than young prince snatched a rose which a month Harry declared himself to was worn by a pretty girl among Floretta; they loved each other the spectators, and placed it as a extravagantly, and as yet were igmark. The duke shot first, but norant why they loved; but they missed it; and Henry, who follow-made the discovery one night at the ed, striking the centre of the flow-fountain. Floretta had come there er, returned it to the pretty damsel without taking out the arrow, which served as a stalk to the rose. The confusion which overspread the countenance of the young villager, and which enhanced her beauty, communicated itself to him who was the cause of it; and the looks which by stealth they exchanged, were the first indications of the new course of life they were now to commencé. rather late; the air was clear; the murmuring of the water, and the song of the nightingale, charmed the whole forest into silence. What passed between the young prince of fifteen and the young damsel of fourteen I need not relate: all I can say is, that on returning from the fountain the young damsel leaned on the arm of the young prince, and the young Prince de Béarn carried the pitcher on his head. They separated at the gate of the park; the one returned gaily to the castle, and the other wept when she once more entered her modest retreat. When Henry returned to the castle, by questioning those who surrounded him, he learned that this pretty girl was named Floretta, that she was the daughter of the gardener of the castle, and that she lived in a small house near the extremity of the stables. From that day gardening became the passion of young Henry; and he chose a spot, a short distance from a fountain, to which he knew Floretta re-ways found a pretext for escaping sorted many times in the course of at a particular hour, and that in the the day. He surrounded it with a finest weather his hat was constanttrellis, made plantations, and work-ly sprinkled with water. This cir ed with the more ardour because he was assisted by the father of Floretta, whom twenty times a day she either had occasion, or pretended to have occasion, to see. If I were writing an historical ro* This house is still standing, and gardening tools are now deposited in it. Floretta's father did not observe that from this day his daughter went later than usual to the fountain; but the tutor of the young prince, the virtuous La Gaucherie, perceived that his royal pupil al cumstance roused the watchfulness of the sage Mentor, and following the young prince at a distance unobserved, he arrived near enough, and soon enough, to discover that he had come too late. As he was convinced, with Fenelon, that flight is the only remedy for love, without remonstrance he announced to || sought to resign herself to her fate: She had often seen the Prince de Béarn walking in the neighbouring woods with Mademoiselle d'Ayelle, and one day could not resist the way. The face of Floretta, rendered more beautiful and touching by her sorrow and paleness, awoke in the heart of the young prince a tender recollection. Next morning he went alone to her cottage, and appointed a meeting with her at the fountain. "I will not fail at eight o'clock," said she, without Henry that they must return on the following day to Pau, from whence they should proceed to the Interview at Bayonne*. The instinct of glory, and per-desire of throwing herself in their haps that of inconstancy, already spoke to the heart of Henry: the necessity of a first separation, which he ran with tears to disclose to Floretta, found something, unknown to himself, at the bottom of his soul to render it less painful. But how shall I paint the agony of the innocent and tender Floretta? In the last moments of departing hap-raising her eyes from her work. piness she beheld all the miseries of the future. "When you leave me," said the fond girl choked by her tears," when you leave me, you will forget me, and then I can only die." Henry consoled her, and vowed eternal love, which Floretta only should possess. "Look at this fountain," said she at the mo- The fifteen mouths which passed before the return of Henry to the castle of Agan, had roused in the bosom of the young hero virtues incompatible with the purity of his first love, and the maids of honour of Catherine de Médicis were intrusted with the task of effacing from his memory the image of poor Floretta. She, more grieved than surprised at a change which she had foreseen, did not strive against the evil she had predicted, and only * Where the destruction of the Protestants was determined upon. Henry hastened away immediately, and awaited with all the impatience of his first attachment (which one look of Floretta had revived in his bosom) the appointed hour. The clock struck, he quitted the castle by a secret gate, and passed along the skirts of the wood, fearing lest he should meet any one in the avenues. He reached the fountain, but did not see Floretta: he waited for some minutes, while the rustling of every leaf made his heart palpitate: he paced backwards and forwards, and then paused: heapproached the fountain, and beheld a small stick planted on the very spot where he had sat so often with Floretta. It was an arrow; he recognised it; the withered rose was yet fixed upon it, and a paper was attached to its point. He seized it, and endeavoured to read it, but daylight had departed. With beating heart and troubled mind, he flew back to the castle, and opening the billet, read these words: "I told you that you should find me at the fountain: perhaps, though you passed near, you did not see ine. Return, and be more careful tain. Why should I dwell on the melancholy particulars? The body of the innocent and hapless dam in your search. You no longer loved me! It was inevitable! Pardon me, Heaven!" These words made Henry dis-sel was drawn from the bottom of tracted; the palace re-echoed with his cries. Surrounded by servants with torches, he arrived at the foun the deep basin into which the waters fell, and was buried between two trees that yet are standing. HOW TO AVOID MATRIMONIAL MISERY. liest times, not forgetting the beautiful letter upon this subject addressed by Madame de Maintenon to the Duchess of Burgundy: but we are not aware that the votaries of Hymen, as they are called, live more peaceably now than formerly; || indeed the contrary would seem to be the case, judging from the recent rapid increase of suits at law of a certain description. One of our correspondents, however, does not despair still of effect MOST young people when they || trimonial happiness, from the earmarry set out with the notion, that although all the couples of their acquaintance have some cause or other of discontent and dissatisfac. tion, they are to be an exception to the rule, and to be at all times the happiest pair in Christendom. This in truth is the great misfortune of matrimony, and one principal source of the disagreements so often witnessed: for if those who are about to enter into that state, would sit down calmly, and recollect the many chances that there areing something beneficial, and he against uninterrupted connubial felicity, and study some of the means of avoiding them, they would not only make a better calculation, but the effect would be, that each party would endeavour to moderate that temper, and correct those habits and inclinations, which in others produce disagreeable and continual disputes. Not half so many would stumble if they used their eyes; but when people are wilfully blind to what is obvious, they almost cease to become fair objects of compas-ing the particulars of his sufferings; sion. Is not this, let us ask, one reason, and not an unimportant one, why the quarrels of men and their wives, instead of exciting regret, usually produce laughter and ridicule? Many have been the schemes published to secure or promote ma has inclosed to us a number of rules and maxims for producing connubial felicity, the observance of which, he feels well convinced, would be attended with the most advantageous consequences to others; and the neglect of which, he is equally firmly persuaded, has been the cause of many of the calamities. be has himself endured in the married state. He has accompanied them by a letter, which is somewhat too long for insertion, detail and if we exclude it, our decision is not to be attributed to any incivility towards him, but because we fear that the distresses he enumerates, and which, in the depth of his grief, he fancies peculiar to himself, are in fact endured, in a greater or less degree, by every couple at the present moment united in the holy || bondage. Consistently with what we before observed, if we did lay this tale of woe before our readers, we apprehend it would excite more ridicule than commiseration: though some might sympathize in the writer's sufferings, the number would be extremely limited, and their fellow feeling could in no respect benefit him, or improve them. We, however, subjoin his scheme, rather to gratify his hope of doing good, than with any expectation on our part that the hope will be accomplished. RULES AND MAXIMS FOR MATRI MONIAL HAPPINESS. 1. When courting your mistress, never miscall her by the name of angel or goddess, lest she mistake it for truth, and forget that she is mortal and a woman. 2. When putting the question (as it is termed), be careful not to allow her to suppose that your happiness, or even comfort, depends on her assent: recollect that you are making a proposal, not begging a boon. 3. Teach her beforehand, that the marriage ceremony is not a mere matter of form, and explain fully the meaning of the word obey. 4. Be careful, at church, that she repeats every word distinctly after the clergyman, that she may afterwards have no excuse for acting in opposition. 6. Be not imperious, but deci ded, and always speak as if it were a matter of course to be obeyed. 7. Be not backward to blame, lest she attribute it to fear: if once she knows that you are afraid of her, your authority is at an end, and you become a poor, degraded, dependent, miserable creature. 8. If pleasure or business take you from home, expect cheerful looks on your return; the surest way to secure them is to give them : a wife, like the moon, should shine by reflection, and her brightness should arise from the glory of her husband. Be sure, however, to guard against the variableness of your moon, and allow no one to eclipse her in your eyes. 9. If she be of an obstinate or sulky temper, do not proceed to extremities, lest you fail, but shew her that you do not mind it: treat her as if you did not perceive it, and her own mortification will be her cure. 10. If she be passionate and violent, be you cool and collected in proportion: if she irritates you, she has mounted one step of her throne, and you descended one step of yours. 11. Treat her as the mistress of your family before the servants, owning you only as her superior and lord paramount. 12. If she be fond of reading (which itself is a misfortune, and to 5. When you take her home, tell be discouraged), let her have no her that she is to command your novels: if she must read, give her servants, but that you are to com- the memoirs of Roman wives and mand her. On placing in her hands matrons: if she prefer light readthe household sceptre, make hering, put before her the works of the understand, that she is only a tribu- fathers of the church. tary sovereign, and that you are her liege lord. 13. Be careful that she do not think too well of herself in point |