FOOTNOTES: (continued 4)

"And, my Lord de Boteler, we feel much inclined to follow your example," said Richard. "The shire of Hereford is our royal patrimony—have ye a scribe here who can draw up a charter?"

Oakley was called upon, and desired to prepare an instrument, to the effect of freeing the bondmen of Hereford.

John Ball, who had looked on and listened with a deep interest, now approached the king, and knelt before him.

"The work that I strove for has begun, and it will finish; but mine eyes will not live to see that day. From the hour that blood was shed I forsook the cause; but I hid myself from the snares that were laid for me;—for I said, surely the light shall yet rise up in darkness! and it has risen; and it will grow brighter and brighter;—but John Ball's task is done, and he gives himself up to the death that awaits him."

De Boteler said something in a low tone to Richard, who turned to the monk.

"Retire!" said he, "we shall consider of your punishment."

As the monk withdrew, Oakley, who had retired, for the purpose of transcribing the charter, re-entered; and the instrument being presented to Richard, received the royal signature. While this was being done, Oakley, under the impression that the affording a proof of Calverley's guilt, more tangible in its nature than mere assertions, could not possibly injure himself, and might turn to his permanent advantage, approached De Boteler, and, producing the prohibitory writ,—

"Please you, my lord," said he, "while searching among Thomas Calverley's writings for parchment, I discovered this."

"Discovered this among my steward's writings!" said the baron as, biting his lip with vexation, he spread open the parchment on the table.

"Why, my Lord de Boteler," said Richard, taking up the writ, and glancing over the characters, "this is a prohibitory writ from the chancery! Where was this found?"

"My liege, in a private box in the steward's room, which, it seems, he had forgotten to lock," replied Oakley, with that propriety which he knew how to assume.

The galleyman had stood in the hall, a silent, but delighted, spectator of all we have detailed. His heart yearned to grasp Holgrave's hand, and tell him how much he rejoiced in his freedom; but he dared not presume so far until the yeoman should have been dismissed. Besides, his thoughts were bent upon another object: as Richard raised the parchment for perusal, the seals attracted his attention, and he instantly recognized it as one he had observed Calverley drop in Gloucester, at the time of Edith's trial; but as he saw the ungracious look the baron cast on Black Jack, he thought he would not irritate him further by mentioning it: yet, stepping forward as Oakley ceased, he said—

"Please your noble grace, that man lies. I found that parchment in an hostelry-yard at Gloucester, six years ago—I know it by the seals; and that John Oakley told me it was an old lease of no use, and so I gave it to him."

"And who are you, varlet?" said Richard, evidently more amused than offended, as he expected some fresh incident to grow out of this affair.

"Please your grace," replied Wells, encouraged by the king's manner, "I am a vintner in the city of London, and I came down to Sudley with Stephen Holgrave's wife, to see what could be done for her husband."

"By my faith! my Lord de Boteler, your hall seems a fitting place to act miracles in," said Richard, laughing.

"There have, indeed, been strange things done here to-day, my liege," replied De Boteler, smiling, but at heart annoyed at the thoughtless observation.

"Oxford," said Richard, "ask the knave if he have any more disclosures to make."

"Please you, my lord," said Wells, "I have only to say again, that John Oakley did not find this writing in the castle, and that he is a traitorous liar, and that I here challenge him to mortal combat."

"Retire, kerns!" said De Boteler, glancing with anger at Oakley and the galleyman, "and settle your vile feuds as ye may. Disturb not this noble presence longer."

"Be not angry, my Lord of Sudley: we request you to ask yonder varlet why he calls his fellow such hard names?"

"Please you, my lord," said Wells, nothing daunted, "did not John Oakley get Stephen Holgrave from the forest of Dean?"

"He did," answered De Boteler, who now remembered Wells as he who had assisted Isabella.

"Then, my lord, I call that man a liar, because he said he found the parchment in the steward's room; and I call him a traitor and a liar, because he got Stephen Holgrave out of the forest of Dean, by saying, that of his own good will, he helped to lay his mother in a church-yard, when he was paid in good broad pieces for doing the work."

Holgrave, weak as he was, and forgetful, even, of the royal presence, sprung upon Oakley. The sight of the writ that would have saved his mother, almost maddened him. He did not exactly comprehend what had been said about the writ; but it seemed, that Oakley was in some measure connected with this, and the sudden conviction, that he was, indeed, the betrayer, gave him such a frantic energy, that Black Jack's face grew still blacker beneath his grasp, and he would have dashed him to the ground, had not the baron risen and commanded Holgrave to loose his hold.

"I think," said Sir Robert Knowles, who saw that it was only under the influence of strong feeling that Holgrave could at present be a match for Oakley—"I think it would be better that this retainer accept the vintner's challenge; and should he worst him, then he and Holgrave can settle their quarrel, when a few days shall have given him more strength." This, despite of Holgrave's assurances that his strength was undiminished, was decided upon, and the galleyman and Oakley were directed to hold themselves in readiness to try the strength of their weapons on the morrow. They were then ordered to withdraw—Oakley and the galleyman to be lodged that night in the retainers' court, and Holgrave to tell over all he felt to the affectionate Margaret, who, for the present, at Isabella's request, was to occupy an apartment in the castle.

The more Oakley thought of the challenge he had been compelled to accept, the less relish he felt to engage in it. Even should he conquer his strong-knit antagonist, he must have to fight over again with the vindictive Holgrave; and he cursed the folly which had induced him to produce the writ. However, he had found a golden treasure in Calverley's room: and as he lay tossing on his sleepless bed, he resolved to take an opportunity, during the bustle of the next morning, to leave the castle. And, indeed, during the bustle of the next morning, an individual of much more consequence than Black Jack might have escaped unheeded.

The incidents of the previous day had caused a strong sensation, not only at Sudley and Winchcombe, but in all the immediate neighbourhood. The presence of a king; the recovery of an heir; and the unheard-of circumstance of giving freedom to the serfs of a whole county, were things well calculated to attract crowds to the castle: and then there were the feastings, and the rejoicings which were to gladden the hearts of all who chose to partake.

The gentle class, and the most respectable portion of the tenantry, prognosticated only evil from this all-advised proceeding. As they looked on, and saw the bondman and nief, with animated countenances, pouring into the hall, and beheld De Boteler, in the presence of the king and the nobles, give freedom to all who approached him, and order that from henceforth they should hold what land they possessed by copy of court-roll, they wondered how far this unprecedented innovation would extend, and how people were to get their land cultivated, if the peasant was allowed to go where he liked, and work as he pleased.

When the last bondman was freed, John Ball, who had stood looking on with devouring eyes, knelt down, and raising up a cheek suffused with the crimson of high-wrought feeling, and eyes glistening and radiant, ejaculated, in a scarcely audible voice,

"Now will my soul depart in peace, since mine eyes have beheld this day!—now will my spirit rejoice, since thou hast had compassion on them that were in fetters, and hast released the children of the bond!" Then rising, and extending his clasped hands towards De Boteler, he said, in a louder tone, "May the Lord add blessings upon thee and thy children! May length of days be thy portion, and mayest thou dwell for ever in the house of the Lord." Then approaching Holgrave, he continued—"Farewell, Stephen! The clemency of the King has saved my life, and the voice of the anointed priest hath proved me cleansed of the leper spot—but I must now be a dweller in a strange land. Tell Margaret that we may not meet again; but surely, if the prayers of a brother can aught avail, mine shall be offered at the footstool of the Highest for her. I could not bid her adieu. Bless thee, Stephen, and bless her, and fare thee well!" He then pressed Holgrave's hand.

"Nay, father John," said Holgrave, with emotion, "we must not part so."

It was to no purpose that the monk requested, and then commanded, that he should be permitted to pursue his journey alone. Stephen insisted upon accompanying him out of Gloucestershire, and father John, to avoid contention, feigned to defer his departure; but when the tables were spread, and the domestics and vassals had sat down to the feast, Margaret, who had been seeking the monk about the castle, looked and looked again among them all, and at length had to weep over the certainty that she should never more behold her brother. Nor did she; for John Ball did not long survive his exile. On the second anniversary of the bondman's freedom, his own spirit was freed, and his body rested in the cemetery of the monastery of Cistercium, in Burgundy.

But to return. When the ceremony of enfranchisement was fairly over, there arose the cry for the combat, and great was the general disappointment when, upon the galleyman's standing forth prepared for the encounter, no Oakley could be found. "He has skulked off to the craven Calverley, I'll warrant," said one. "Aye, aye, as sure as the sun shines, they are sworn brothers," said another: "they think more of saving their heads than sparing their heels." "Did ye ever know one who could read and write, who didn't know how to take care of his carcase," said another, with a sagacious nod; but though these good folks were all very shrewd, they did not happen to fall upon the truth, which was simply this, that as Black Jack was watching an opportunity to escape, without observation, he happened to see the cloak and cowl the monk had thrown off when first appearing in the hall, lying in a corner of the court-yard, where it had been carelessly placed by one of those whose business it was to keep the hall in order. It instantly occurred to him that this might be of use, and contriving to remove the cloak, he put it on, and, thus disguised, succeeded in leaving Sudley; but though disguises had so often befriended him, it proved fatal in this instance, for, upon taking a northerly direction, as one where he was least likely to be known, he was recognized as a leader of the commons, and his monkish dress inducing a suspicion of his being John Ball, (the monk's pardon not being known), Oakley, although swearing by every thing sacred that he was no monk, was hanged without form of trial, at St. Albans, as one who had stirred up the bondmen to insurrection.

Little more remains to be said. De Boteler, upon discovering that Byles held Holgrave's land by virtue of the mortgage transferred by the usurer to Calverley, pronounced, in the most summary way, the whole thing illegal. Byles was dispossessed, and the farm, now the largest in the manor, returned to Holgrave, who thus, like old Job, became the possessor of greater wealth after his misfortunes than he had enjoyed before.

When Holgrave's strength was re-established, he waged battle with Byles to prove the yeoman's guilt and his mother's innocence. Byles was no craven, but he was vanquished and mortally wounded, and, when death was upon him, confessed the whole transaction. Mary, with her children, fled on the instant; and, some few years after, was seen by Merritt, who had again become a peaceful artizan, begging alms in London.

Isabella, although, of course, never acknowledging her share in the writ, yet, as some atonement, gave a large benefaction to Hailes Abbey, on condition that a certain number of masses should be offered up for Edith.

The little Ralph grew up with a strong predilection for the sea, contracted, it was often suspected, by the strange stories he had heard the galleyman repeat; and it is upon record, that Ralph de Boteler, Baron of Sudley, was the first high admiral of England. The young heir always evinced a strong affection for Margaret; so much so, indeed, as sometimes to raise a suspicion in the baroness that her son loved his foster-mother better than herself.

We must not forget Bridget Turner, who was so affected at the death of her husband, and perhaps, too, at the failure of the rising, that she took a journey on foot from Maidstone to Sudley, on purpose to reproach Holgrave with having been the cause of her husband's death. Margaret strove to tranquillize her unhappy feelings, and Holgrave endeavoured to convince her that, although Turner's removal from Sudley might be attributed to him, his connexion with the rising was his own act. And at length Bridget, finding that she was paid more attention by Margaret and Holgrave than she had received even from her own son, took up her permanent abode with them: and sometimes, when she could get the ear of an old neighbour, and talk of former times, and tell what her poor husband had done for Holgrave, when he was a bondman, she felt almost as happy as she had ever been.

About twenty years after this, Margaret, who had become a full, comely dame, and was by many thought better-looking now than in her youth, was one day bustling about her kitchen, for on the morrow her eldest son, who had accompanied the Lord Ralph on a naval expedition, was expected to bring home, from the galleyman's, in London, a counterpart of the pretty little Lucy. She was busy preparing the ingredients for some sweet dish, when one of Holgrave's labourers came in, and requested her to go to his hut directly, for an old man, who seemed dying, desired much to see her. Providing herself with a little wine, Margaret hastened to the cottage; and here, on a straw bed, lay a man with grey hairs hanging about his shoulders, and with a face so emaciated, and a hand so skeleton-like, that she almost shuddered as she looked. The invalid motioned the man to withdraw, and then, fixing his black eyes, that appeared gifted with an intense—an unnatural brilliance, upon Margaret, who seemed fascinated by the gaze, he said in a tremulous voice,—

"Margaret, do you know me?"

"Know you!—know you!" she repeated, starting from the seat she had taken beside him, and retreating a few steps.

"Do not fly me, Margaret. I cannot harm you—I never could have harmed you.—Do you not know me?"

"Surely," said Margaret, trembling from head to foot—"surely it cannot be——"

"I see you have a misgiving that it is Thomas Calverley—it is he! But be seated, Margaret, and listen to the last words I shall ever more breathe in mortal ear."

Margaret was so shocked and overpowered, that she obeyed.

"Margaret," said the dying man, as he raised himself a little from his bed, "I know not why I sent for you, or why I dragged my weary limbs from beyond the sea to this place; but as I felt my hour was coming, I longed to look upon you again. You are and have been happy—your looks bespeak it: but, Margaret, what do mine tell of?—Of weary days and sleepless nights—of sickness of heart, and agony of soul—of crime—of pain—of sorrow, and deep, destroying love!" His strength was exhausted with the feeling with which he uttered this, and he sunk back on the bed.

Margaret was exceedingly agitated, and was rising to call for assistance, but he caught her hand in his cold grasp. "Do not go yet," he said, in a low voice—"I came far to see you!" His grasp relaxed, and Margaret, drawing away her hand, poured some wine in a cup, and held it to his lips; he swallowed a little, and, looking up in her face, she saw that his eyes were filled with tears. "You are going to leave me, Margaret?"

"Yes," she replied, "I must go now, but I will see you again."

"Never!—you will never see me again!" he said, with fresh energy: "but, before you go, tell me that you forgive me all that is passed."

"I do forgive you, indeed, as truly as I hope to be forgiven!" said Margaret, affected—and turning away, she left the cottage.

On the third day from this, Calverley, bearing the felon's brand, unwept and unknown, was laid in the stranger's grave.

THE END.

LONDON: PRINTED BY STEWART AND CO. OLD BAILEY.

ADVERTISEMENTS

VOLUME VI.

WILL APPEAR ON THE FIRST OF JUNE,

CONTAINING

THE SLAVE-KING,

From the "Bug Jargal" of Victor Hugo.

This story, which describes the emancipation of the Slaves of St. Domingo, effected by themselves, and by force of arms, will be enriched with the original Notes of a recent English Traveller.

A TALE OF THE CARAVANSERAI,

By James Baillie Fraser, Esq. author of the Kuzzilbash, is nearly ready.

The celebrated historical Romance of

THE SIEGE OF VIENNA,

Condensed and adapted from the German of Madame Pichler, is ready for the press.

Original Works of first-rate talent, by the most distinguished writers of the age, will follow in succession.

THE LIBRARY OF ROMANCE,

EDITED BY

LEITCH RITCHIE,

Author of "Schinderhannes, the Robber of the Rhine," "Heath's Picturesque Annual," "Turner's Annual Tour," "London Nights' Entertainments," &c.

This new and important undertaking has now received a four months' trial; and the result is a determination, on the part of the proprietors, to carry on the series with redoubled spirit and energy. The patronage of the public, and the prompt, manly, and generous support of the periodical press throughout the country, leave them no excuse for carelessness or timidity; and they pledge themselves, therefore, without hesitation, to spare neither personal labour nor expense in redeeming the promise of the Prospectus, by producing a series of works of fiction "greatly cheaper than the cheapest, and fully as good as the best that have preceded them."

A reduction of more than two-thirds in the price of an original novel (effected in the Library of Romance) is of itself an important consideration, in times when economy is a matter both of fashion and necessity; but there are other circumstances connected with the form of the work which are equally deserving of public attention. Hitherto it was as necessary to extend a work of fiction to three volumes as a tragedy to five acts. The publisher was a kind of literary Procrustes, and compelled the Attic wayfarers who fell into his hands to be all of one size. This would have been comparatively a slight evil, or no evil at all, if the scale had been a moderate one; but it may be conceived what pulling and stretching were necessary in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, and how long, and lean, and lank, and shapeless, the victims looked after the operation. We, too, have a standard of our own; but it is short enough to be reached by any author of respectable dimensions. Compression, therefore, will be our chief labour; and, generally speaking, the sufferer himself will have most cause to rejoice.

It has been suggested to the proprietors by the Circulating Libraries, that the volumes of the Library of Romance are inconveniently long, and should be rendered capable of being divided into two, so as to enable them to supply their subscribers with the usual quantum of reading at a time. This appears to be nothing more than reasonable; and it has, therefore, been determined that in future each volume shall be divided into parts, or books, so as to admit of its being bound up, at the option of the possessors, into separate volumes. To effect this more easily, the work will be sold to the Libraries in sheets as well as bound.

Library of Original Romance.

EDITED BY LEITCH RITCHIE, ESQ.

A uniform Series of Original Tales, Novels, and Romances, written expressly for this work, by the most popular and distinguished living Authors of the Age, now publishing in Monthly Volumes, uniform with the Waverley Novels, each volume complete in itself, and equal in quantity to two volumes of a common Novel.

PRICE SIX SHILLINGS, ELEGANTLY BOUND IN CLOTH.

The First Monthly Volume, of the Series was published last New Year's Day, entitled,

THE GHOST-HUNTER AND HIS FAMILY.

By Mr. Banim, Author of "The O'Hara Tales," and is acknowledged to be "the most talented and extraordinary work that has issued from the press for many years."

"The very graceful volume before us must sell by thousands to repay the enterprising publishers for the cost of its production. Mr. Banim has put forth all the vigour that belonged to the old O'Hara Tales, and avoided the weaknesses that sullied his subsequent efforts. He has gone back to Nature, and she has welcomed the return of her favourite child with more than a mother's fondness. * * * The Tale is the best that has appeared this season."—Athenæum.

The Second Volume, published on the 1st of February, contains

SCHINDERHANNES, THE ROBBER OF THE RHINE.

By the Editor, Leitch Ritchie.

"This volume calls for unqualified praise. It is elegantly written, abounds in striking incident, and is, throughout, replete with highly-wrought and well sustained interest. In short, this is decidedly one of the best romances we have ever read, whether we judge by incident, character, or plot."—Court Journal.

The Third Volume, published on the 1st of March, contains

"WALTHAM," A Novel.

"We sincerely recommend "Waltham" to the perusal of our readers; and most heartily do we wish success to the "Library of Romance." Many a flower, otherwise "born to blush unseen," will, we trust, be drawn from its obscurity by the spirited undertaking of Mr. Ritchie."—Brighton Herald.

The Fourth Volume, published on the 1st of April, contains

THE STOLEN CHILD, A TALE OF THE TOWN, FOUNDED ON A CERTAIN INTERESTING FACT.

By John Galt, Esq., author of the "Ayrshire Legatees," "Annals of the Parish," "Lawrie Todd," &c.

"The Stolen Child is a most cleverly managed story, with consequences and contrivances worthy a lawyer's brief—we do not think any one ever exceeded Mr. Galt in sketching national portraits—they are preserved as if for a museum of natural curiosities."—Literary Gazette.

"The Autobiography in this volume is equal to Mr. Galt's best days, and even his subordinate characters are worthy to be recorded in the Annals of the Parish."—Athenæum.

SMITH, ELDER, AND CO., CORNHILL.

WORKS

IN THE PRESS, OR RECENTLY PUBLISHED,

BY SMITH, ELDER AND CO.,

Cornhill, London.

Preparing for the press, and to be speedily published,

DEDICATED, BY PERMISSION, TO LORD GODERICH,

THE NARRATIVE OF TWO

EXPEDITIONS INTO THE INTERIOR OF AUSTRALIA,

Undertaken by Captain Charles Sturt, of the 39th Regiment, by order of the Colonial Government to ascertain the nature of the Country to the west and north-west of the Colony of New South Wales. This work will contain a correct Chart of the Rivers that were discovered; a Minute Description of the Country, its Geology, Productions, the Character of its Rivers, Plains and Inhabitants, together with much useful information. It will give a distinct account of Captain Barker's Survey of St. Vincent's Gulf, the nature of the Soil in the Promontory of Cape Jervis, its Streams, Anchorage, &c.: and will be illustrated by numerous Drawings of the Scenery, Ornithology, and Fossil Formation of the Country traversed, interspersed with numerous Anecdotes of the Natives, their Manners, Weapons, and other Peculiarities. The whole, throwing a new light on the Country that was explored.

Preparing for publication, in Demy 8vo. Illustrated.

Narrative of a Journey to the

FALLS OF THE CAVERY;

With an Historical and Descriptive Account of

THE NEILGHERRY HILLS:

Illustrated by correct Views of the very splendid and striking Scenery met with in these Regions, and on the Route there from Madras. By Lieutenant H. Jervis, H.M. 62d Regt.

The work now proposed will form a complete Guide both to the invalid and others visiting this romantic country: the names of Subscribers will be inserted in the Volume, which will be put to press as soon as a sufficient number has been received.

Price Fifteen Shillings, neatly bound in cloth.

Just published, beautifully illustrated, price 7s. 6d. cloth extra, or 10s. 6d. elegantly bound in Morocco,

PICTURES OF PRIVATE LIFE,

BY SARAH STICKNEY.

"Sarah Stickney is an honour to her sex, and an ornament to literature. We would place her volume in an exquisite small library, sacred to sabbath feelings and the heart's best moods, when love and charity and hope combine to throw over the mind that soft and tranquil glow only to be compared to the later glories of the day."—Spectator.

"A very charming volume, full of graceful and feminine feeling, and an enthusiastic sense of religious faith."—Literary Gazette.

"It is altogether such a work as every mother of a family would place in the hands of her children, and from which even that mother might herself learn a profitable lesson.—For our own part, we do not hesitate to affirm that few, very few works indeed, have of late years, more affected or interested our feelings than that we now most unfeignedly recommend to the attention of our readers."—Cheltenham Journal.

"We predict that this interesting volume will become an universal favourite.—We have in fact never met with a book, besides the Sacred Oracles, which might be more advantageously put into the hands of young persons."—Bristol Journal.

"This beautiful little volume cannot be perused without affecting and improving the head and the heart, and to young ladies particularly, would we most earnestly recommend it."—Scots Times.

Just completed, in Demy 8vo. with Portrait, Price 10s. 6d.

THE LIFE OF THE POET, WILLIAM COWPER.

Compiled from his correspondence, and other authentic sources of information. Containing a full Development of his Religious Character—Observations on his Depressive Malady—Interesting Details on the peculiarity of his Case—with Critical Remarks on his Productions;—forming a complete and connected Record of the Poet's extraordinary Life, and intended to remove the Obscurities which have hitherto hung over his Singular Personal History. By Thomas Taylor.

"There was room for another biography of Cowper; and Mr. Taylor has proved himself a worthy compiler of the materials which, subsequent to Hayley's Life, have been flowing into the stock of public information. He has taken a fair and intelligent view of the exceedingly interesting character of this most afflicted and yet most gifted Poet—whose name is destined to go down to posterity as the brightest poetical moralist that has ever fathomed the depths of the English language."—Spectator.

Now ready, the Second Edition, price 2s. 6d. bound, cloth.

THE VILLAGE POOR-HOUSE.

By a Country Curate.

"The design of this Poem is admirable, and the execution of it spirited and vigorous. We have read the little volume with great delight at seeing such good powers put forth for so excellent a purpose."—Examiner.

"The author has drawn from Nature; his feelings are enlisted in the cause of the poor; hence, the fidelity of his descriptions and the earnestness of his manners."—Morning Chronicle.

"We recommend this little volume to our readers. It is full of interest, and will richly repay the perusal."—Scots Times.

"There is real poetry in this little volume, and many home truths are told in a terse and pointed manner: it is well worthy of perusal."—Tait's Magazine.

"This little volume claims our attention by the high poetical talent it displays."—Penny Magazine.

"It is really refreshing to meet with a little volume such as the one before us. The author is a poet of very high order, and his unassuming volume is a rich treasure, from which the reader may gather much that is valuable."—New Monthly Magazine.

"This is a poem of extraordinary power. It is one of those deep-striking, rivetting compositions, no one can take up without reading to the end."—Court Magazine.

See also the Times, Monthly Repository, Metropolitan, &c. &c. for high characters of this work.

Just completed, in Post 8vo. illustrated by Parris, price 10s. 6d. elegantly bound in morocco extra.

LONDON NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS;

A new Edition, with additions, of TALES AND CONFESSIONS.

By Leitch Ritchie.

This work is supposed by eminent critics to be his chef d'œuvre. The original edition, it will be recollected, (although not containing, like the present, any of the later efforts of his pen), was pronounced by the London Reviewers to be "the most extraordinary work of fiction that has for many years issued from the press."

"Mr. Ritchie is by far our best writer of romantic and imaginary Tales," was the dictum of the Literary Gazette on another occasion; and the Atlas pronounces him to be "the Scott of the short, picturesque, bold, and dramatic story."

"The power of fascinating the reader, of chaining him down, as it were, while his fancy is tormented by terrible imaginings, is the principal characteristic of Mr. Ritchie's fiction."—London Weekly Review.

"This Scott of Tale-writers."—National Standard.

THE BENGALEE;

Or, SKETCHES OF SOCIETY AND MANNERS IN THE EAST; including Satires in India, &c. &c. By an Officer in the Bengal Army. Post 8vo. Price 10s. 6d. boards.

"It is impossible to speak too highly of this elegant and unpretending publication. The object of the Author is to present a picture of society and manners in the East Indies; and we do not remember to have met with any book of which the plan is more ably executed, or in which instruction and entertainment are more agreeably combined."—Oriental Herald.

"The work before us, we hesitate not to affirm, is one of the best—if not the very best—of the kind we have met with for many years. It is most pleasantly written, and contains a felicitous admixture of the serious with the humorous. It is one of the very few books of modern production which the general reader will go through from beginning to end without feeling himself thereby subjected to a species of mental drudgery. It will be read with delight by all acquainted with the English language; but as most of the articles have a reference to circumstances connected with India, it will possess peculiar attraction to those who have been in the East."—London Weekly Review.

THE ADVENTURES OF NAUFRAGUS,

Written by Himself; giving a faithful Account of his Voyages, Shipwreck, and Travels, from his first outset as a Midshipman in the East India Company's Service, till he became a Commander in the Indian Seas; including a general description of India, of the Hindoo Superstitions, Idolatry, and Sacrifices of the Suttee, or Immolation of Hindoo Widows, &c. &c. Second edition, 8vo. Price 9s. boards.

"From the extraordinary nature of the adventures described in the volume under this name, and the extreme youth of the author, we formed an opinion that the work was a collection of facts and observations which had occurred to various persons, and were strung together, for the sake of uniformity, as having happened to a single individual. In this, however, we learn that we have been mistaken; for we have received a letter from Naufragus himself, affording us not only most satisfactory evidence of his identity, but such convincing reasons to rely upon the authenticity of his narrative, that we can no longer entertain a doubt upon the subject, and we have only to say, that the certainty of its reality adds greatly to the interest of his eventful story."—Literary Gazette.

"If you wish for a pleasant travelling companion, or a friend to beguile a lonely or a tedious hour—if you have any desire to view an interesting, we might truly say, a wonderful picture of real life, read the Adventures of Naufragus."—Scotsman.

THE LAST OF THE PLANTAGENETS.

An Historical Narrative, illustrating some of the Public Events and the Ecclesiastical and Domestic Manners of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries. Second Edition, Demy 8vo. 12s. boards.

"One of the most faithful and delicate narratives that the whole library of English Romance can furnish. The plaintiveness, purity, and simplicity of the diction, and the monastic quietness, the unaffected tenderness, and repose of the incidents, must render this Volume a permanent favourite with all readers of taste and feeling."—Atlas.