sonage, that much more resembled the king's person in that mask than any other. The king, hearing and perceiving the cardinal so deceived in his estimation and choice, could not forbear laughing; but plucked down his visor, and Master Neville's also, and dashed out with such a pleasant countenance and cheer, that all noble estates there assembled, seeing the king in there amongst them, rejoiced very much. The cardinal eftsoons desired his highness to take the place of estate, to whom the king answered that he would go first and shift his apparel; and so departed, and went straight into my lord's bedchamber, where was a great fire made and prepared for him, and there new-apparelled him with rich and princely garments. And in the time of the king's absence the dishes of the banquet were clean taken up, and the table spread again with new and sweet-perfumed cloths; every man sitting still until the king and his maskers caine in among them again, every man being newly apparelled. Then the king took his seat under the cloth of estate, commanding no man to remove, but sit still, as they did before. Then in came a new banquet before the king's majesty, and to all the rest through the tables, wherein, I suppose, were served two hundred dishes, or above, of wondrous costly meats and devices, subtilly devised. Thus passed they forth the whole night with banqueting, dancing, and other triumphant devices, to the great comfort of the king, and pleasant regard of the nobility there assembled.-The Negotiations of Thomas Woolsey.

On the banks of the Irtish, which rises in Calmuck Tartary, and falls into the Oby, is situated Tobolsk, the capital of Siberia; bounded on the north by forests eleven hundred versts in length, extending to the borders of the frozen ocean, and interspersed with rocky mountains covered with perpetual snows. Around it are sterile plains, whose frozen sands have seldom received an impression from the human foot, and numerous frigid lakes, or rather stagnant marshes, whose icy streams never watered a meadow, nor opened to the sunbeam the beauties of a flower. On approaching nearer to the pole, these stately productions of nature, whose sheltering foliage is so grateful to the weary traveller, totally disappear. Brambles, dwarf birches and shrubs alone ornament this desolate spot; and, farther on, even these vanish, leaving nothing but swamps covered with a useless moss, exhibiting the last efforts of expiring nature. But still, amidst the horror and gloom of an eternal winter, nature displays some of her grandest spectacles-the aurora borealis, enclosing the horizon like a resplendent arch, emits columns of quivering light, and frequently offers to view sights which are unknown in a more southern hemisphere. South of Tobolsk is the province called Ischim: plains strewed with the repositories of the dead, and divided by lakes of stagnant and unwholesome water, separate it from the Kirquis, an idolatrous and wandering people. It is bounded on the left by the river Irtish, and on the right by the Tobol, the naked and barren shores of which present to the eye fragments of rocks, promiscuously heaped together, with here and there a solitary fir-tree rearing its head. Beneath them, in a space formed by an angle of

SIBERIA.

[Sophie Ristaud, Madame Cottin, a noted

writer of France, born in 1773, died in 1807 Married

at seventeen to M Cottin, a Paris banker, she was left

a widow in three years, and betook herself to literature at the age of twenty. Like many precocious writers,

she began with verse, but it was in fiction that she

achieved her best work. She wrote Claire d'Albe

(1798); Malvina (1800); Amélie Mansfield (1802); Mathilde (1805); and Elisabeth, ou les Eciles de Sibérie

(1806) The last-named work achieved an extraordinary

popularity, and has been translated into nearly all European languages. We present an abridgment of

the story.]

about six hundred versts from Tobolsk : situated in the farthest extremity of the circle, in the midst of a desert, its enwhich illuminates the hemisphere and as virons are as gloomy as the sombre light dreary as the climate.

denominated the Italy of Siberia; since it The province of Ischim is nevertheless enjoys nearly four months of summer, though the winter is rigorous to an ex

cess.

The north winds which blow during that period are so incessant, and render the cold so piercing, that even in September the Tobol is paved with ice. A

heavy snow falls upon the earth and disappears not before the end of May; but from the time that it begins to dissolve, the celerity with which the trees shoot forth their leaves, and the fields display their verdure, is almost incredible: three days is the short period that nature_requires to bring her plants to maturity. The blossoms of the birch-tree exhale an odoriferous scent, and the wild flowers of the field decorate the ground; flocks of various kinds of fowl play upon the surface of the lakes; the white crane plunges among the rushes of the solitary marsh to build her nest, which she plaits with reeds; whilst the flying squirrels in the woods, cutting the air with their bushy tails, hop from tree to tree, and nibble the buds of the pines and the tender leaves of the birch. Thus the natives of these dreary regions experience a season of pleasure; but the unhappy exiles who inhabit italas! none.

Of these miserable beings the greatest part reside in the villages situated on the borders of the river, between Tobolsk and the extremest boundary of Ischim; others are dispersed in cottages about the country. The Government provides for some, but many are abandoned to the scanty subsistence they can procure from the chase during the winter season, and all are objects of general commiseration. Indeed, the name they give to the exiles seems to have been dictated by the tenderest sympathy, as well as by a strong conviction of their innocence-they call them "Unfortunates."

:

A few versts from Saimka, in the centre of a marshy forest, upon the border of a deep circular lake, surrounded with black poplars, resided one of these banished families, consisting of three persons a man about five and forty, his wife, and a beautiful daughter, in the bloom of youth. Secluded in the desert, this little family were strangers to the intercourse of society the father went alone to the chase; but neither had he, his wife, or daughter, ever been at Saimka; and, except one poor Tartar peasant, who waited on them, no human being entered their dwelling. The Governor of Tobolsk only was informed of their birth, their country and the cause of their banishment, and this secret he had not even confided to the lieutenant of his jurisdiction, who was established at Saimka. In committing these

VOL. X.

exiles to his care he had merely given orders that they should be provided with a comfortable lodging, a garden, food and raiment, restricting them from all communication with any one, and particularly to intercept any letter they might attempt to convey to the court of Russia.

So much consideration, mystery and precaution excited a suspicion that, under the simple name of Peter Springer, the father of this family concealed a name more illustrious and misfortunes of no common nature. Perhaps he was guilty of some great crime; or, possibly, he might be a victim to the hatred and injustice of the Russian ministers.

Peter Springer had built their little cottage himself. It was of the wood of fir-trees, thatched with straw; detached masses of rocks defended it from the sweeping blasts of the north wind and from the inundations of the lake. These rocks, formed of a soft peeling granite, in their exfoliation reflected the rays of the sun; mushrooms sprang from their crevices, some of a pale pink, others of a saffron color or of a grayish blue, announced the earliest days of spring; and in those cavities where hurricanes had scattered loose earth, pines and servicetrees buried their roots and raised their tender foliage.

On the southern side of the lake the forest consisted only of underwood, thinly scattered, and leaving open to view the uncultivated plains beyond, covered with burying-places and monuments of the dead, many of which had been pillaged, and the scattered bones were the only remains of a nation that would have been consigned to eternal oblivion had not the gold and jewels, buried with its people, revealed to avarice its existence.

To the east of this extensive plain a little wooden chapel had been erected by the primitive Christians. On that side the tombs had been respected, and, under the cross which adorned it, no one had dared to profane the ashes of the dead. In these plains or steppes (the name they bear in Siberia) Peter Springer, during the long and severe winter of the northern climate, spent his days in hunting. He killed elks, which fed on the leaves of the willow and poplar; sometimes he caught sables, but more frequently ermines, which were very numerous. With

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the price that he obtained for their fur he procured from Tobolsk different articles which contributed to the comfort of his wife and the education of his daughter. The long winter evenings were devoted to the instruction of the young Elizabeth, who would read aloud some passages of history, while Springer directed her attention to those parts which could elevate and expand her mind, and Phedora, her mother, to all that could make it tender and compassionate.

As soon as the snow began to yield to the power of the sun, and a slight shade of verdure appeared upon the earth, the whole family was busily engaged in the culture of their garden; Springer turned up the earth, while Elizabeth sowed the seeds prepared by the industrious hand of Phedora. Their little enclosure was surrounded by plantations of alder, of white cornel, and a species of birch much esteemed in Siberia, its blossom being the only one that affords a fragrant smell. On the southern side of the plantation Springer had built a sort of hothouse, in which he cultivated with the greatest assiduity and care various flowers unknown in that climate: when they were in full bloom he would gather them, and pressing them to his lips, ornament the brow of his daughter, saying, "Elizabeth, adorn yourself with the flowers of your native country; their fate resembles yours; like you they flourish in a foreign land."

Although Phedora had passed the first season of youth, she was still beautiful. Devoted to her Creator, her husband, and her child, time had not effaced the charms that innocence and virtue had imprinted on her countenance. She seemed to have been created for love in its greatest purity; and if such were her destiny, it had been fulfilled. Attentive to all the wishes of her husband, she watched his looks to discover what could contribute to his comfort or pleasure, that she might anticipate his wish before he had expressed it. She prepared their repasts herself. Order, neatness, and comfort were characteristic of their little abode. The largest apartment served as a sleeping-room for herself and Springer. It was warmed by a stove; the walls were decorated with the drawings and work of Phedora and her daughter, and the windows were glazed-a luxury

seldom found in this country, and for which they were indebted to the profit which Springer derived from the chase. Two small rooms completed their habitation; one was occupied by Elizabeth; in the other, where the garden and kitchen utensils were kept, slept the Tartar peasant, their only attendant.

Their days were spent in superintending domestic concerns; in making different articles of clothing out of the skins of the reindeer, which they dyed with a preparation from the bark of the birch, and lined with thick furs. But when Sunday arrived, Phedora secretly lamented that she was prevented from attending divine service, and spent great part of the day in prayer. Prostrate before the God of all consolation, she invoked Him in behalf of the objects of her tenderness; and if her piety daily increased, one of the principal causes was, that her ideas and expressions became more eloquent, and better adapted to bestow that consolation which her husband so much required, in proportion as her soul became elevated by devotion.

The young Elizabeth, who knew no other country than the desolate one which she had inhabited from the age of four years, discovered beauties which nature bestows even upon these inhospitable climes; and, innocence finding pleasure everywhere, she amused herself with climbing the rocks which bordered the lake, in search of the eggs of hawks and white vultures, that build their nests there during summer. Sometimes she caught woodpigeons to fill a little aviary, and at others angled for corassins, which move in shoals, whose purple shells, lying against one another, appear through the water like a sheet of fire covered with liquid silver. It never occurred to the happy days of her childhood that there could be a lot more fortunate than her own. Her health was established by the keen air she breathed; and exercise united in her light figure agility and strength; while her countenance, beaming with innocence and peace, each day seemed to disclose some new charm. Thus far removed from the busy world and mankind, did this lovely girl improve in beauty for the eyes only of her parents, to charm no heart but theirs; like the flower of the desert, which blooms before the sun, and arrays itself in not less brilliant colors because it is destined to shine only in the presence of that