modify, or generalise, and therefore cannot attain to imitation. And after condemning portraits of actors in character, he finally argues, that beset as imitative art is with the imperious dictates of fashion, and entangled as it is with its own ramifications, still it is naturalness alone that confers on any of its productions effect and value. The quality of naturalness, that is to say, of good taste in art, is not to aim at a cold and insincere delineation of reality, but to have the development of truth for its sole object (this is a distinction which the author several times insists upon). Truth consisting in the selection, modification, and generalisation of the external features of nature, and in order to secure naturalness, nature having to be improved upon (!) while the most abstract and perfect of such kind of imitation Mr. Snow asserts to be sculpture. PEPY'S DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE.* SECRETARY Pepys possessed great skill and experience in nautical matters, and he introduced many important improvements into the Navy; he was also so generally well-informed in history, painting, sculpture, &c., that in 1684 he was elected President of the Royal Society, yet would he never have occupied a niche in the temple of fame, but for Lord Braybrooke's publication in 1825, of a diary and correspondence without its equal, whether for amusement or instruction; and which, while it illustrates the prudent and wary character of the author with extreme fidelity and naïveté, affords the most curious picture extant of the court of Charles II., and of the habits, manners, and conduct of the people at that time. In publishing a third edition of this invaluable work, Lord Braybrooke has been induced, no doubt from its great popularity, to print all passages and matter previously omitted, in the fear of rendering the work too voluminous, excepting a few entries in the short-hand diary, which were totally devoid of interest, or which from their licentiousness are not to be tolerated in the present day. This third edition will then in reality be the first edition that approaches most to the original and integral document, and it at once supersedes all previously published editions. We observe it is also announced that some letters, relating to the death of Lady Robert Dudley, better known as Amy Robsart, hitherto unpublished, and copied from the originals in the Pepysian library, have been added to the appendix, and we shall gladly return to this interesting diary at an early opportunity. We are unavoidably obliged to defer our notices of several works received late this month. Diary and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys, F.R.S., Secretary to the Admiralty in the Reigns of Charles II. and James II. With a Life and Notes, by Richard Lord Braybrooke. The Third Edition, considerably enlarged. Vol. I. Henry Colburn. HUMORIS T. CONTENTS FOR JULY. . 267 THE ACTRESS'S BOUDOIR. BY CHARLES HERVEY, ESQ. A FEW MONTHS IN SOUTHERN AFRICA. BY LIEUT.-COLONEL E. THE COURT AND TIMES OF JAMES THE FIRST A VISIT TO THE BATTLE-FIELDS OF CRESSY AND AGINCOURT. LITERARY NOTICES:-Novels of the Month.-Recollections of Republican France from 1790 to 1801. By J. G. Millingen, M.P., M.D., &c. &c.-Burke's Peerage and Baronetage for 1848.-Views of the Overland Journey to India, from Ori- ginal Sketches by C. Broughton, Esq., H.E.I.C.S.-Herbert Breakspear; a Legend of the Mahratta War. By Edward SUBSCRIBERS are informed, that under the new postal arrangements, the NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE can henceforth be RECEIVED on the 1st of each month, postage paid, in any part of the United Kingdom. Orders received by all Booksellers and Newsmen. AINSWORTH'S MAGAZINE. A NEW AND REVISED EDITION OF CRICHTON: An Historical Romance, BY W. HARRISON AINSWORTH, ESQ.. IS NOW PUBLISHING IN AINSWORTH'S MAGAZINE. ILLUSTRATED BY HABLOT K. BROWNE. CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186, STRAND. NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. MR. JOLLY GREEN AND THE PRESIDENCY OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC. BEFORE I proceed to narrate any further particulars of what has befallen me since I left home, I beg to inform the public that, in consequence of the treatment which I received at the hands of the members of the Club of the Coupegorges Bleus,-a club distinctly recognised by the authorities, it is my intention to throw aside all false delicacy in future and speak my mind openly,-calling a spade, a spade, and nothing else. Away then with initials and mutilated words! The French Government shall no longer screen itself beneath my generous forbearance, but they and every thing connected with France shall be exposed to the noon-day sun, in terms as broad and intelligible as my pen can write. Had my person been held sacred, as, according to the law of nations, it ought to have been, I would still have veiled my meaning, and left my adventures an enigma for future ages to discover, but the time for forbearance is past, and woe to those who have uncorked the vials of my wrath! We found the three gentlemen who had endeavoured to rescue us very agreeable fellows. Though none of them spoke the language of the country, a circumstance which speedily afforded me the opportunity of repaying their attempted kindness,-they were by no means devoid of intelligence. The Tipton Slasher had a good deal of observation, and a rude, forcible way of expressing himself, which at times amounted almost to eloquence; Johnny Broome, as quick as his friend, perhaps, in noting peculiarities, indulged in rather a confused style of oratory; and Ben Caunt, the least acute of comprehension, was also the least gifted with words. Of the latter, indeed, it might be said, as the author of "Lalla Rookh" observes in that delightful poem, However, I made every allowance for deficiencies which could not fail to be observed by me, and the poor fellows were evidently very grateful. Though cooked in Paris, the rump-steak which the Slasher recommended was really well dressed, but this was the consequence of using a British gridiron, for the manner in which the French prepare their steaks (or "sticks," as they call them), by beating them to make them a good colour, and then soaking them in oil, completely destroys their flavour. I know this to be the fact, for, in walking along the quays of Paris, I have repeatedly observed the process, which is performed by women (who, by-the-bye, do all the manual labour in France), and noise enough they make in the operation. These women, and there are, I may say, thousands of them, inhabit the floating abattoirs on the river, and, on account of the nature of their occupation, are thence called "Blanchisseuses." July.-VOL. LXXXIII. NO. CCCXXXI. X Let the sceptical reader remember how Baron Munchausen was sneered at about the Abyssinian rump-steaks, and be cautious how he refuses credit to my statement. To return from this digression. The house to which Podder and myself had been conducted was kept by an Englishman, which accounted for the nature of our fare. He was a true patriot, and had an ordinary twice a day, at which old English viands were regularly consumed, and it was really quite refreshing in this land of frogs and soupe-maigre to read his bill of fare, commencing with "the joint," and ending with "Cheshire cheese," a good, honest, substantial lump, like a segment of a mill-stone, and not that wretched humbug which the French call "fromage de Chesterre," and which the Tipton Slasher, in speaking of it, likened to a compound of "salt and yaller soap, vich," said he, "they sends yer in under a glass-kiver, like some forrin' curossity, as if they vos afeard of its takin' the vings of the mornin' and fleeing away, as the Psalms says." Mr. Thomas Brown, the landlord of this hotel, was as jovial and honest a fellow as ever stepped. He hated the French, as a matter of course, and when I asked him how he came to settle amongst such a people, "Oh, dammee," replied he, "I ain't got nothink to do with them,— they keeps their distince,-I know'd as how I was wanted by gen'lmen, and such like as comes over from London to see the sights and get a bellyful of some❜ot as they can eat, and, so says I to my old 'ooman,Jane,' says I, bisness bein' rayther slack at that time in Vindmill-street, vhere I kept the Amm and Vindmill,—on vich account the street is called by that there name,- Jane,' says I, 'vot if ve sells the good-vill of the 'ouse, and goes to Parry; they're sadly in vant of steaks, chops, kidneys, broiled bones, roasted taters, and them sort of things,—we might do vorse,-vot do you think?' Vell, Jane vos quite agreeable, and so I parted vith the good-vill and the fixters, and here I am, and here I've a been pretty nigh on to seven year now." "Of course," said I, "you have acquired the language?" "The langvidge," he returned, opening his eyes as wide as his fat cheeks would let him; "vot the blessed use would their langvidge have been to me? Catch me at their nonsical parlyvoo,-vy, it's only fit for parrits and monkeys! It's not Christian talk! Vy, you vouldn't b'lieve it p'raps, but they haven't got sich a word in their tongue as a goosb'ry-dammee if they have. Ah, you may stare, but it's true— they haven't." I did not pause to inquire how Mr. Brown found this out, but as is my custom when I respect a man's feelings, I shook him heartily by the hand, and he not only returned the pressure, but mixed me forthwith a very excellent glass of strong hot brandy and water. "The only good thing as they've got is their brandy," said he, by way of recommendation, "though I never drinks it myself." It was not for me to doubt Mr. Brown's assertion, but I observed that the Tipton Slasher looked very significantly at Ben Caunt as he spoke, and the mute Benjamin winked hard in reply at the Slasher, and pointed with his thumb several times over his left shoulder, a pantomimie action which, I have somewhere read, is meant to be expressive of incredulity. When I stated that my coat had been torn off my back in the row at |