same date, a lady of Chateauroux, indignant at her husband's declining to demand satisfaction, for a blow which had been dealt him, sent a challenge in his name to the person who had aggrieved him, kept the appointment herself, and wounded her antagonist with her sword. In May, 1828, a duel with pistols occurred between a respectable young woman and one of the royal body guard. The girl had received his addresses, and he had treated her ill, and deserted her. To this she could not submit, so she challenged him, fixed the place, and chose her arms. Two shots were exchanged, but without mischief, as the seconds had taken especial care that nothing deadly should be put into the barrels. The woman, whose intentions were bona fide, and who suspected no trickery, fired first with all the coolness imaginable, and then steadily awaited her former lover's fire. But he, having pretended for an instant to take aim, in order to try the intrepidity of his Clorinda, discharged his pistol in the air, in token of reconciliation, when they left the ground together, and, we believe, were subsequently married. Another fight took place shortly afterwards at Strasbourg, between a French and German woman, who were both smitten with a young painter. The two rivals repaired to the ground, attended by seconds of their own sex, to settle their dispute with pistols. At first the German wished to settle the affair promptly, and muzzle to muzzle; but the French woman, after consulting with her second, agreed to twenty-five feet. At this distance they fired upon each other with much rancour, but both missed their mark. The fierce German then strongly insisted upon beginning again, and going on till one fell; but the seconds interposing, they were disarmed, and left the ground without any reconciliation having been effected.

In Scandinavia, in the olden time, when a woman was challenged by a man on the wager of battle, she was obliged to appear in person; but a singular expedient was contrived, in order to equalize, in a certain degree, the strength and skill of the combatants. A hole was dug, and the man was placed in it up to his middle; by which means a great advantage was secured to the female, who could play round him, and thump him on the head with a long leather thong, or a sling at the end of

which was placed a large stone. The man was furnished with a bludgeon, and if in trying to reach his enemy he missed his mark three times, so that he struck the ground thrice, he was adjudged to be vanquished.

THE KISS OF THE HAND.

A LEGEND OF BRITTANY.

EVERY one is familiar with the name of Jane de Montfort. Every one knows with what intrepidity this heroine of the fourteenth century, that age of heroines, maintained the rights of her husband and child in the celebrated contest between the counts of Montfort and Blois for the duchy of Bretagne. But a fact with which every one is not familiar is, that the warlike countess in displaying the manly qualities which astonished her contemporaries, lost none of the virtues or graces of her sex; and the knights of Bretagne and England, when they saw her pass in front of their ranks, with her son in her arms, attended by her page, or seated in the halls of her castle, her golden crown on her head and her stately hound at her feet, thought her as beautiful as her enemies did terrible when she dashed among them on her war-horse, helm on head, battle-axe in hand, and lance in rest. Consequently the good countess had as many admirers as partisans, and did as much execution at home with her large dark eyes and golden hair, as among her enemies with the redoubtable battle-sword of her husband. Be it observed, however, to the honour of our heroine, that her lovers never gained aught but their sighs and the good lance-strokes bestowed in her name on her adversaries, the only sufferers by this innocent gallantry. Of all her adorers, the goodliest among the goodly and the most ardent among the ardent, was Walter de Mauny, the flower of English chivalry.

His renown and his services placed him in the first rank among her followers. The very day of his arrival at Hennebond he adopted her colours-the next he declared her the lady of his thoughts-the next he avowed his passion before all the assembled knights, and not a day passed that he did not break a lance or slay an enemy in honour of her. And he had his reward. When she went to battle, it was he who handed her her arms: when she needed succour, it was he who flew

presence of all the knights. But when he attempted to rise, his strength failed him, and he signed to his squire to support him, the blood gushing out from under his cuirass.

"Holy Mother! you are wounded, fair sir!" exclaimed the countess, raising him herself, and stanching the blood with her own scarf.

""Tis nothing," said Walter, recovering himself immediately, and binding the scarf around his body, "this is more than sufficient to cure me by to-morrow; and on the day after," he added, in a low tone, "I pledge myself to drive all your enemies away from the walls of Hennebond, if you will but vouchsafe me on the cheek what you have granted me on the hand?"

The countess answered by a smile, which was equivalent to a promise. But she freed herself from it the next day by going in person to fire Charles's camp, and driving him away before Mauny recovered from his wound.

NOTES OF A READER.

COURTSHIP.

Addison, Cobbett, George Alexander Steevens, and Bulwer, respectively, have furnished the following maxims, by an observance of which much may be effected towards acquiring and maintaining a happy lot in marriage :

"Admiration is a very short-lived passion, that immediately decays upon growing familiar with its object, unless it be still fed with fresh discoveries, and kept alive by a new perpetual succession of miracles rising up to its view."ADDISON.

"There are so many circumstances, perfectly nameless, to communicate to the new-married man the fact, that it is not a real angel of whom he has got the possession: there are so many things of this sort-so many and such powerful dampers of the passions, and so many incentives to cool reflection, that it requires something, and a good deal too, to keep the husband in countenance in this his altered and enlightened state."— COBBETT.

"Courtship is a fine bowling-green turf, all galloping round and sweethearting, a sunshine holiday in summertime; but when once through matrimony's turnpike, the weather becomes

wintry, and some husbands are seized with a cold, aguish fit, to which the faculty give the name of indifference." -G. A. STEEVENS.

"Possession, like all earthly blessings, carries with it its own principle of corruption. The deadliest foe to love is not change, nor misfortune, nor wrath, nor anything that flows from passion, or emanates from fortune; the deadliest foe to it is custom ! With custom die away the delusions and the mysteries which encircle it. With all passion, the soul demands something unexpressed, some vague recess to explore or to marvel upon. Custom leaves nothing to romance, and often but little to respect. The whole character is bared before us like a plain, and the heart's eye grows wearied with the sameness of the survey. And to weariness succeeds distaste, and to distaste one of the myriad shapes of the Proteus-aversion; so that the passion we would make the rarest of treasures, fritters down to a very instance of the commonest of proverbs; and out of the familiarity cometh, indeed, contempt!'"-Bulwer.

To say that principles of exclusion, applied to particular classes, are a necessary part of a free constitution, at all times and under all circumstances, is equivalent to maintaining that the bandage which supports a man's wounded arm is a part of his nature. The bandage may have been wisely applied originally, but it is always a fair question whether it may not be safely removed; and the removal is not giving the arm a privilege, but restoring one.

Governments are generally about twenty years behind the intellect of their time. In legislation, they are like parents quarrelling what kind of frock the boy shall wear, who, in the meantime, grows up to manhood, and won't wear any frock at all.

THE SPANISH HEADSMAN.

THE town clock of Menda had tolled the hour of midnight, when a young French officer, leaning on the wall of an extensive terrace, which formed the bounds of the gardens of the château, appeared lost in reflection, and absorbed in deeper contemplation than generally accompanies the gay thoughtlessness of a military life although, undoubtedly, place, season, and all by which he was surrounded, were most propitious to meditation. It was one of the clear and cloudless nights of Spain; the twinkling of the stars, and the moon's pale and partial beams, threw a soft light on the rich and romantic valley, in which, at a hundred feet beneath him, was situated the small but handsome town of Menda, skirting the base of a rock, which sheltered its inhabitants from the north wind, and on the summit whereof was placed the vast and antique château; and thence the waters of the Atlantic, extending far on either side, VOL. I. (3.)

might be fully descried. The château of Menda, however, afforded a contrast to the calm and silence of the scene around it. From its numerous casements blazed forth a profusion of light; the lively clamour of the cheerful dance, the sounds of mirthful music, and the joyous voices of the assembly, often mingled with, and oftener overpowered, the noise of the more distant waves dashing against the shore. The refreshing coolness of the night, succeeding a day of extraordinary heat, with the delicious perfume of trees and flowers by which he was surrounded, in restoring him from the severe fatigue which the military duties of the morning occasioned, had long detained the young soldier in that delightful spot, and induced him to forego the social enjoyments which the interior of the mansion afforded.

The château itself belonged to a Spanish grandee of the first rank, who, with his family, now resided there. Of his two daughters, the eldest was particularly handsome; and had, during the

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evening, greatly attracted the admiration of the French officer, whose notice had evidently not been disregarded by the fair Spaniard: but, whenever she addressed him, there was, mixed up with her looks and tones of kindness, so singular an expression of seeming sorrow and compassion, that, haply the impression it had made on him, had led him to withdraw from the society, and induced his deep and lengthened reverie. Notwithstanding she was one of five children, the great wealth of the Marquis justified the idea that Clara would be richly endowed: but Victor Marchand could scarcely bring himself to hope that, in any event, the daughter of one of the proudest and most powerful nobles in all Spain, would even be permitted to regard, with more than ordinary civility, the son of a Parisian grocer.

The French were hated: and General G*****r, the commandant of the province, having had strong reason to suspect that the Marquis de Léganès contemplated an insurrection of the inhabitants of that and the surrounding country, in favour of Ferdinand the Seventh, the battalion commanded by Victor Marchand had been sent to garrison Menda; and to overawe its inhabitants and the people of the neighbouring towns and villages, who were at the disposal and under the influence of the Marquis. Indeed, a recent dispatch of Marshal Ney had even communicated the probability of the English attempting a landing on the coast, and of the Marquis being in active correspondence with the cabinet of London. So that, notwithstanding the welcome and hospitality evinced by the Marquis to himself and his comrades, Victor Marchand never relaxed in the adoption of every precaution that prudence could suggest. In pacing the garden terrace, and casting a keen and watchful glance from time to time to ascertain the state of the town, of which his position gave him a distinct and general view; or in listening occasionally to whatever sounds arose from the valley below, in which it lay, he strove vainly to reconcile to his mind, the open and almost unreserved friendship the Marquis had displayed towards him, and the peace and tranquillity of the country itself, with the doubts and fears expressed by his general,-when his curiosity was suddenly awakened, and his suspicions aroused by new and somewhat unaccountable circumstances.

Innumerable lights, at one and the same instant, were to be seen moving in the town below: the hum of many voices simultaneously heard, where all had been for so many hours darkness and repose. Although it was the feast of Saint Jago, he had issued, that very morning, severe and peremptory orders, that everywhere (with the exception of the château) fire and light should be extinguished at the hour appointed by the military regulations. Again he looked, and more intently; and certainly could distinguish the glittering of muskets and bayonets at several of the posts where his sentinels were stationed. The lights were yet seen; but a solemn silence now succeeded to the noise, which was wholly distinct from that which might be supposed to accompany the observance of a festival of the church. Whence could proceed so general and extraordinary an infraction of military orders, in despite of the more than adequate nocturnal police and rounds which he had organised? He was resolved to fathom the mystery: and at once, and with all the impetuosity of youth, he was in the act of scaling the terrace wall, to reach, by a direct and rapid descent of the rock, the corps-de-garde stationed at the entrance of the town, on the side of the château, when a slight movement near him, resembling the light step of a female on the sanded alley of the garden, induced him to pause. He looked round him anxiously for some moments, but without success. Again he raised himself to observe, and he became fixed and motionless with surprise, as his strained sight dwelt on some distant object; for, clear and distinct as the moon in heaven, he beheld a fleet of ships riding upon the waters and nearing the land. He was casting in his mind, with the utmost rapidity of thought, the measures he must instantly pursue, when his reflections were interrupted by a hoarse, low voice, proceeding from a breach in the wall, at some paces distance, above which a human head projected. He hastened to the spot, and ascertained it to be the orderly who was in attendance upon him at the château. "Is it you, Colonel?" "It is!"

"The beggars, below there, sir, are twisting about like so many worms. I have been upon the watch, and hastened to make my report to you."

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Speak!" said Victor Marchand.