THE BOOK OF BEAUTY—THE KEEPSAKE.
So= slight change has been made in the externals of both these Annuals, to approach a little to the fashionable imitation of the older style of typo- graphy ; but The Book of Beauty has entirely changed its character, and aspires to an historical dignity. In lieu of portraits of modern belles, with verses tagged to their pictures, or fancy illustrations (as last year) of poetical personages, intermingled with prose tales and verses, the vo- lume contains a series of notices of some of the Queens of England. Re- markable women are generally taken ; not, apparently, on any system, but simply because any one tolerably read would as a matter of course fix upon persons who have made a figure in history or poetry. Lady Blessington takes three wives of Henry the Eighth,—Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, and Katherine Parr : why these were chosen and Katherine of Arragon postponed, it might be difficult to say upon any principle. Mr. F. Mansel Reynolds writes a "Notice of the Life and Times of Philippa of Hainault, Consort of Edward the Third "; and takes Berengaria, wife of Richard the First, for a subject : but as little is known of her, he gives a sort of military life of her husband. Miss Camilla Toulmin has selected Caroline Queen of George the Second. Mrs. Freire Owen contributes a notice of Henrietta Maria, the imprudent and unfortunate wife of Charles the First ; and an anonymous writer furnishes a life of Elizabeth Woodville. The other subjects are Matilda Queen of Henry the First, Eleanor Queen of Henry the Third, Eleanor of Castile with of Edward the First, so cele- brated for her virtues and her husband's regard for her memory ; with Isabella the second wife of Richard the Second.
The industrious researches of Miss Strickland have pointed out the authorities for the Lives of the Queens of England to those who desire original investigation, and accumulated materials for such as are content with second-band knowledge. A clever adapter, of whom Paris has many and London few, might make a series of picturesque sketches from Miss Strickland's volumes ; Macaulay could make a brilliant set, though the subject is not very suitable to him ; and Southey could have mingled interest with instruction, presenting the subject in a style adapted to its nature, and evolving the true moral it might contain. The Book of Beauty has none of these features. Lady Blessington has read the po- pular biographies of Anne Boleyn and the two other Queens of Henry the Eighth ; and she writes off her view of their lives and characters, not ungracefully, but without sufficient acumen or vivacity to give no- velty to such worn matter. The other sketches are bald and curt, with- out the fulness of a life or the force of a " character " ; sometimes little more than an expansion of Hume or an abridgment of Strickland.
The plates are below criticism. Of the early Queens no authentic likeness exists, and we must put up with fancy designs ; but masters of their art have left us portraits of several of the later sovereigns: yet these are neglected for " inventions " upon a par with the commonest trash of the shop-windows, apparently upon the principle of having an uniformity of badness. The wood-cuts are as bad as the engravings ; the head-piece to "Anne Boleyn " is a caricature.
As far as literature is in question, The Keepsake consists of the usual intermixture of tales and verses. The versifiers are not in full force; the best of them, Barry Cornwall, not answering the expectation with which the reader turns to his lucubration, either in subject or treat- ment; and Landor having seemingly sent his " Lines on Leaving my Villa" to get rid of a request. The prose is rather better than usual; probably from restricted demand giving a greater choice, or leaving the artists more at leisure. Miss Toulmin tells " A Tale that was Told to Me" very well ; and the conclusion, though tragic, or at least sad, is a change from the commonplace winding-up,—albeit the account of the storm and wreck smacks somewhat of a lady's navigation. In "Red Rose Villa," the late Miss Aguilar produces a pleasant little story out of the Misses Brown's boarding-school and the commonplaces of a love tale. " The Little Hop-picker's Dream" is a faithful sketch of peasant life, by Mrs. Hall. "The Lost Jewel," though not very probable in its in- cidents, is rather remarkable from its exhibition of French character and manners. There are other tales, some of equal, some of lesser merit: they all, however, depend for their particular effect upon their par- ticular treatment—the workmanship is good, but the style common. Two tales rather stand out from this category, as having a character of their own : a translation or adaptation of an old German story, by Sir Bulwer Lytton; and "A Few Early Recollections," by Mr. Bernal. This latter story, when we get to it, is not, indeed, very probable or interesting : the striking feature is the truthfulness of the details, the ac- cessories, and the preliminary narrative. In its circumstances the Ger- man tale combines that quiet humour and sly satire in which Sir Bulwer chiefly excels. The narrative is the tale of a veteran who has sewed up his earnings in his boot: taken ill at an inn, he intrusta the precious article to his landlady ; but when he recovers in spite of neglect, both host and hostess deny that the boot ever had any money, and charge Kaspar Kar- nerach with being a swindler: a brawl ensues ; Kaspar, after maiming his host, wounding a halberdier, and striking the chief magistrate, the host's brother, is dragged off to prison. There the Devil tempts him to sell his soul for his safety—all in vain : Satan, however, is resolved to have some one; as Kaspar, on the morrow, is entering the court where his execution is predetermined on, a voice whispers him to say that he leaves his case in the hands of his counsel ; and when sentence is about to be passed upon him, he has just sense left to mumble out the words. "'And here I am cried a shrill voice; and a personage not hitherto perceived, but robed in the official gown of a counsellor of the High Court of the Marquisate of Brandeburg, bustled up to the table. "At the sight of this unexpected assistance, the host's face fell, and the judge looked confused; for the counsellors of the High Court were very formidable gentry in that little town; and a man who could command the services of one of that learned and important fraternity was not to be put to death quite so easily as our host had reckoned upon. Meanwhile, the lawyer began with exceeding volubility. He sketched a short outline of Kaspar's birth, services, and career; and, to Karnerach's great astonishment, this was done with the most accurate fidelity, except that only all the good was told and all the bad was omitted. Those peccadilloes, the review of which had so dismayed the soldier in his dun- geon, were carefully suppressed, and in their stead appeared actions of valour and devotion—charity and goodness. The poor soldier could have wet to hear him- self so touchingly described. The lawyer's eloquence began wonderfully to move and interest the audience, against their will. And when the lawyer diverged to narrate how he, Kasper Karuerach, had once saved the life of the Marquis of Brandeburg himself, the loyalty of the court could scarcely be restrained from acclamations of applause. The lawyer proceeded to explain exactly how the sol- dier had acquired his crown-pieces; how he had carefully saved them; how he had refrained from wassail and gaming, and turned miser, for the sake of his child; how he had counted on the portion to his little Bettine—a portion won by bold deeds and honourable wounds; how he had retired from service with a eulogy from his captain at the head of his troops; how all his old comrades thronged round him to bid farewell and God speed him '; how he had sewn up his gains is his boot; how ho had been taken ill on the road; how he had reached the inn; how he had intrusted his treasure to the care of his hostess. And as for
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you, poor woman,' exclaimed the advocate abruptly, turning to the landlady, ' as for you, why should I blame you? Women are but the tools of their husbands, and you are punished enough. Ah ! little thought you that one of those gold crowns was this very morning given to Gretchen, your maid, for a kiss behind the door while you were lacing your boddice.' " Thou villain ! ' exclaimed the hostess, shaking her fist at her husband, who stood open-mouthed and aghast. " ' Ay !' continued the lawyer, ' nor did you dream that that precious spouse of your own promised Gretchen to run away from you, and live with her as his wife; supporting the hussy on those very gold crowns for which you perilled your life and lost your honesty. Come, now, would you do it again, my good frau? ' " 'No, and in truth!' cried the hostess, rushing to her husietud: and is this my, return, you good-for-nothing perjured deceiver!' "Such a fine woman as you, too!' sighed the lawyer; and such a minx for your rival! Well, at least you see that stolen goods do not prosper.' " But I will have my revenge!' cried the hostess, reading her husband's guilt in his face. ' And if I did take the poor soldier's money, you know it was be- cause you commanded me—vile slave that I was ! '
" Hush, hush!' groaned the host.
" You hear her? ' said the lawyer, triumphantly. But one is as good as the other. Courage, mine host! If you meant to run away with your Gretchen, your wife had promised little Herman, the barber, to rob you, next Thursday, and set off with him to open a shop at Cologne.' " ' Ah, wretch!' cried the host, enraged in his tarn, I suspected as much; and that's the reason'—be stopped short. " That's the reason you sewed the rix-dollars and gold crowns up in your doublet: see l'—and before the host was aware, the lawyer had stepped up to him, and with a touch of a knife he drew forth, unripped the doublet, and the coins came clattering down on the ground. "No words can describe the excitement that ensued at this exposure. But the judge, alone retaining his presence of mind, and anxious yet to bring off his bro- ther, cried Silence! and as soon as the hubbub subsided—' Worthy counsellor' said he, ' it is not on mere appearances that we can judge a worthy man like the plaintiff, whom you have contrived so strangely to turn into defendant. If it be true, as you state, that this bad woman wanted to elope from her husband, and from motives of jealousy or revenge to rain him, how do we know but what all this has been a trick between you both? how else could you have arrived at the knowledge of things done between the closed doors of men's homes? Doubtless the woman took the money herself, and sewed it up in the doublet unknown to her husband. Is it not so, my brother?' ah !—oh, ho !' said the lawyer, 'let your brother speak for himself'; and as he said this, the lawyer threw back his gown,—his form seemed to dilate, taller and taller, larger and larger he grew, as he stood close by the landlord. " Well, then,' cried the host, plucking up courage, and hoping still, by the judge's connivance, to be brought out from the perilous dilemma into which he bad fallen—' well, then, Devil fly away with me if I know how the crowns got into the doublet!'
" ' That is all that I wanted and waited for,' cried the lawyer; 'miss here—hit there': and he pounced upon the host like a hawk on a sparrow. Up flew the roof of the court; sky and cloud peered within; and high into air, out of sight, flew the fiend and his victim."
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