changed by force. His heartless and faithless wife deserted him-indeed, in his insane fits his detestation of her was excessive-and neglected their children. One human being only could soothe and soften him, his sister-in-law, Valentina Visconti.

"No more, no more; my heart doth faint. When I the life recall

Of her who lived so free from taint,
So virtuous deemed by all;
Who in herself was so complete,
I think that she was ta'en
By God to deck his Paradise,
And with his saints to reign;

For well she doth become the skies,
Whom, while on earth, each one did prize,
The fairest thing to mortal eyes!

The same delicate taste and sweet sensibility which are here apparent, break forth in another charming poem by Charles, composed while a prisoner in England, and descriptive of the same delightful season that surrounds us with light

Charles had always manifested the truest friendship for the neglected wife of his brother. They were alike unhappy in their domestic relations; for the gallantries of the beautiful queen were scarcely less notorious than those of Louis of Orleans; and if scandal spoke truly, Louis himself was one of the queen's lovers. The brilliant and beautiful Isabeau was distinguished by the dazzlingly clear and fair complexion of her German fatherland. and the large and harmony, while we write, “le premier prinlustrous eyes of the Italian. But Charles de-temps :" tested her, and delighted in the society of Valentina. He was never happy but when near her. In the violent paroxysms of his malady, she only could venture to approach him-she alone had influence over the poor maniac. He yielded to her wishes without opposition; and in his occasional glimpses of reason, touchingly thanked his " dear sister" for her watchful care and forbearance.

"The Time hath laid his mantle by

Of wind, and rain, and icy chill,
And dons a rich embroidery

Of sunlight pour'd on lake and hill.
"No beast or bird in earth or sky,

Whose voice doth not with gladness thrill;
For Time hath laid his mantle by

Of wind, and rain, and icy chill.
"River and fountain, brook and rill,
Bespangled o'er with livery gay
Of silver droplets, wind their way
All in their new apparel vie,

For Time hath laid his mantle by."

It must have been a dismal change, even from the barbaric court of Milan; but Valentina was not a stranger to the consolations which are ever the reward of those who prove themselves self-sacrificing in the performance of duty. She We have said little of Louis of Orleans, the was eminently happy in her children. Charles, unfaithful husband of Valentina. This young her eldest son, early evinced a delicate enthu-prince had many redeeming traits of character. siasm of mind-the sensitive organization of He was generous, liberal, and gracious; adored genius. He was afterward to become, par ex-by the French people; fondly loved, even by cellence, the poet of France. In his childhood his neglected wife. His tragical death, assas he was distinguished for his amiable disposition and handsome person. Possibly at the time of which we now write, was laid the foundation of that sincere affection for his cousin Isabella, eldest daughter of the king, which many years afterward resulted in their happy union. One of the most touching poems of Charles of Orleans has been charmingly rendered into English by Mr. Carey. It is addressed to his deceased wife, who died in child-bed at the early age of twenty-two.

"To make my lady's obsequies,
My love a minster wrought,
And in the chantry, service there
Was sung by doleful thought.

The tapers were of burning sighs,
That light and odor gave,
And grief, illumined by tears,
Irradiated her grave;

And round about in quaintest guise
Was carved, 'Within this tomb there lies
The fairest thing to mortal eyes.'

"Above her licth spread a tomb,

Of gold and sapphires blue;

The gold doth mark her blessedness,
The sapphires mark her true;
For blessedness and truth in her
Were livelily portray'd,

When gracious God with both his hands
Her wondrous beauty made;
She was, to speak without disguise,
The fairest thing to mortal eyes.

sinated in cold blood by his cousin, Jean-sanspeur of Burgundy, excited in his behalf universal pity. Let us review the causes which aroused the vindictive hostility of the Duke of Burgundy, only to be appeased by the death of his gay and unsuspicious kinsman.

Among the vain follies of Louis of Orleans, his picture-gallery may be reckoned the most offensive. Here were suspended the portraits of his various mistresses; among others he had the audacity to place there the likeness of the Bavarian princess, wife of Jean-sans-peur. The resentment of the injured husband may readily be conceived. In addition to this very natural cause of dislike, these dukes had been rivals for that political power which the imbe. cility of Charles the Sixth placed within their grasp.

The unamiable elements in the character of the Duke of Burgundy had been called into active exercise in very early life. While Duke de Nevers, he was defeated at Nicopolis, and made prisoner by Bajazet, surnamed "Ilderim," or the Thunderer. What rendered this defeat the more mortifying was, the boastful expectation of success proclaimed by the Christian army. "If the sky should fall, we could uphold it on our lances," they exclaimed, but a few hours before their host was scattered, and its leaders prisoners to the Moslem. Jean-sans

peur was detained in captivity until an enormous condole with her on the loss of her infant, who ransom was paid for his deliverance. Giovanni- had survived its birth but a few days. While Galeazzo was suspected of connivance with they were supping together, Scas de Courte Bajazet, both in bringing the Christians to fight at a disadvantage, and in putting the Turks on the way of obtaining the heaviest ransoms. The splenetic irritation of this disaster seems to have clung long after to the Duke of Burgundy. His character was quite the reverse of that of his confiding kinsman of Orleans. He was subtle, ambitious, designing, crafty-dishonorably resorting to guile, where he dared not venture on overt acts of hostility. For the various reasons we have mentioned, he bore a secret but intense hatred to his cousin Louis.

In the early winter of 1407, the Duke of Orleans, finding his health impaired, bade a temporary adieu to the capital, and secluded himself in his favorite chateau of Beauté. He seems to have been previously awakened to serious reflections. He had passed much of his time at the convent of the Celestines, who, among their most precious relics, still reckon the illuminated manuscript of the Holy Scriptures presented to them by Louis of Orleans, and bearing his autograph. To this order of monks he peculiarly attached himself, spending most of the time his approaching death accorded to him. A spectre, in the solitude of the cloisters, appeared to him, and bade him prepare to stand in the presence of his Maker. His friends in the convent, to whom he narrated the occurrence, contributed by their exhortations to deepen the serious convictions pressing on his mind. There now seemed a reasonable expectation that Louis of Orleans would return from his voluntary solitude at his chateau on the Marne, a wiser and a better man, cured, by timely reflection, of the only blemish which tarnished the lustre of his many virtues.

heuze, valet-de-chambre to Charles VI., arrived
with a message to the duke: "My lord, the
king sends for you, and you must instantly hasten
to him, for he has business of great importance
to you and to him, which he must communicate
to you this night." Louis of Orleans, never
doubting that this message came from his broth-
er, hastened to obey the summons. His incon-
siderable escort rendered him an easy prey to
the ruffians who lay in wait for him.
He was
cruelly murdered; his skull cleft open, the
brains scattered on the pavement; his hand so
violently severed from the body, that it was
thrown to a considerable distance; the other
arm shattered in two places; and the body
frightfully mangled. About eighteen were con-
cerned in the murder: Raoul d'Oquetonville and
Scas de Courteheuze acted as leaders. They
had long waited for an opportunity, and lodged
at an hotel "having for sign the image of Our
Lady," near the Porte Barbette, where, it was
afterward discovered, they had waited for sev-
eral days for their victim. Thus perished, in
the prime of life, the gay and handsome Louis
of Orleans. The mutilated remains were col-
lected, and removed to the Church of the Guil-
lemins, the nearest place where they might be
deposited. This confraternity were an order
of hermits, who had succeeded to the church
convent of the Blanc Manteax, instituted by St.
Louis.

The church of the Guillemins was soon crowded by the friends and relatives of the murdered prince. All concurred in execrating the author or authors of this horrid deed. Suspicion at first fell upon Sir Aubert de Canny, who had good reason for hating the deceased duke. Louis of Orleans, some years previously, had carried off his wife, Marietta D'Enghein, and kept her openly until she had borne him a son, afterward the celebrated Dunois. Immediate

The aged Duke of Berri had long lamented the ill-feeling and hostility which had separated his nephews of Orleans and Burgundy. It was his earnest desire to see these discords, so in-orders were issued by the king for the arrest jurious to their true interests and the well-being of the kingdom, ended by a cordial reconciliation. He addressed himself to Jean-sans-peur, and met with unhoped-for success. The Duke of Burgundy professed his willingness to be reconciled, and acceded with alacrity to his uncle's proposition of a visit to the invalided Louis. The latter, ever trusting and warm-hearted, cordially embraced his former enemy. They received the sacrament together, in token of peace and good-will: the Duke of Burgundy, accepting the proffered hospitality of his kinsman, promised to partake of a banquet to be given on this happy occasion by Louis of Or-lestines, there to be interred in a beautiful leans, a few days later.

of the Knight of Canny. Great sympathy was felt for the widowed Valentina, and her young and fatherless children. No one expressed him self more strongly than the Duke of Burgundy He sent a kind message to Valentina, begging her to look on him as a friend and protector. While contemplating the body of his victim, he said, "Never has there been committed in the realm of France a fouler murder." His show of regret did not end here: with the other immediate relatives of the deceased prince, he bore the pall at the funeral procession. When the body was removed to the church of the Ce

chapel Louis of Orleans had himself founded During the interval the young duke returned and built, Burgundy was observed by the specto Paris. His sister-in-law, Queen Isabeau, was tators to shed tears. But he was destined soon then residing at the Hotel Barbette-a noble to assume quite another character, by an almost palace in a retired neighborhood, with fine gar-involuntary act. The provost of Paris, having dens, almost completely secluded. Louis of Or- traced the flight of the assassins, had ascertainleans, almost unattended, visited the queen, toed beyond doubt that they had taken refuge at

sans-peur returned in defiance to Paris to conduct the proceedings in his own defense. He had erected a strong tower of solid masonry in his hôtel; here he was secure in the midst of his formidable guards and soldiery. For his defense. he procured the services of Jean Petit, a distinguished member of the University of Paris, and a popular orator. The oration of Petit (which has rendered him infamous), was rather a philippic against Louis of Orleans, than a defense of Jean-sans-peur. He labors to prove that the prince deserved to die, having conspired against the king and kingdom. One of the charges

the hotel of this very Duke of Burgundy. Heerser could weary out his prosecutor with depresented himself at the council, and undertook lays and quibbles equal to our own. Jeanto produce the criminals, if permitted to search the residences of the princes. Seized with a adden panic, the Duke of Burgundy, to the astonishment of all present, became his own acruser. Pale and trembling, he avowed his guilt: "It was I!" he faltered; "the devil tempted me!" The other members of the council shrunk back in undisguised horror. Jean-sanspeur, having made this astounding confession, left the council-chamber, and started, without a moment's delay, for the Flemish frontier. He was hotly pursued by the friends of the mur- | dered Louis; but his measures had been taken with too much prompt resolution to permit of a successful issue to his Orleanist pursuers. Once anong his subjects of the Low Countries, he might dare the utmost malice of his opponents.

that of having, by incantatious, endeavored to destroy the monarch-gives us a singular idea of the credulity of the times, when we reflect that these absurd allegations were seriously made and believed by a learned doctor, himself a distinguished member of the most learned body in France, the University of Paris. The Duke of Orleans conspired "to cause the king, our lord, to die of a disorder, so languishing and so slow, that no one should divine the cause of it; he, by dint of money, bribed four persons, an apostate monk, a knight, an esquire, and a varlet, to whom he gave his own sword, his dagger, and a ring, for them to consecrate to, or more properly speaking, to make use of, in the name of the devil," &c. "The monk made several incantations. ... And one grand invocation on a Sunday, very early, and before sunrise on a mountain near to the tower of Mont-joy.... The monk performed many superstitious acts near a bush, with invocations to the devil; and while so doing he stripped himself naked to his shirt and kneeled down: he then struck the points of the sword and dagger into the ground, and placed the ring near them. Having uttered many invocations to the devils, two of them appeared to him in the shape of two men, clothed in brownish-green, one of whom was called Hermias, and the other Estramain. He paid them such honors and reverence as were due to God our Saviour-after which he retired behind the bush. The devil who had come for the ring took it and vanished, but he who was come for the sword and dagger remained-but afterward, having seized them, he also vanished. The monk, shortly after, came to where the Proceeding to the Hôtel St. Pôl, accompanied devils had been, and found the sword and dagger by her children and the Princess Isabella, the lying flat on the ground, the sword having the affianced bride of Charles of Orleans, she threw point broken-but he saw the point among some herself at the king's knees, and, in a passion of powder where the devil had laid it. Having tears, prayed for justice on the murderer of his waited half-an-hour, the other devil returned and brother, her lamented lord. Charles was deeply gave him the ring, which to the sight was of the moved he also wept aloud. He would gladly color of red, nearly scarlet, and said to him: have granted her that justice which she de-Thou wilt put it into the mouth of a dead man manded, had it been in his power to do so; but in the manner thou knowest,' and then he van Burgundy was too powerful. The feeble monarch ished." dared not offend his overgrown vasssal. A process at law was all the remedy the king could offer.

In the mean time, the will of the deceased dake was made public. His character, like Cæsar's, rose greatly in the estimation of the citizens, when the provisions of his last testament | were made known. He desired that he should be buried without pomp in the church of the Celestines, arrayed in the garb of that order. He was not unmindful of the interests of literature and science; nor did he forget to make the poor and suffering the recipients of his bounty. Lastly, he confided his children to the guardianship of the Duke of Burgundy: thus evincing a spirit unmindful of injuries, generous, and confiding. This doenment also proved, that even in his wild career, Louis of Orleans was at times visited by better and holier aspirations.

Valentina mourned over her husband long and deeply; she did not long survive him; she sunk under her bereavement, and followed him to the grave ere her year of widowhood expired. At first the intelligence of his barbarous murder excited in her breast unwonted indignation. She exerted herself actively to have his death avenged. A few days after the murder, she entered Paris in "a litter covered with white cloth, and drawn by four white horses." All her retinue wore deep mourning. She had assumed for her device the despairing motto:

"Rien ne m'est plus,

Plus ne m'est rien."

To this ration the advocate of the Duchess of Orleans replied at great length. Valentina's answer to the accusation we have quoted, was Law was then, as now, a tedious and un- concise and simple. The late duke, Louis of certain remedy, and a rich and powerful trav-Orleans, was a prince of too great piety and

virtue to tamper with sorceries and witchcraft.", ined to prevent the return to power of the young tyrant, they attacked and massacred GiovanniMaria in the streets of Milan. While this tragedy was enacting, Facino Cane breathed his last.

The legal proceedings against Jean-sans-peur seemed likely to last for an interminable period. Even shonld they be decided in favor of the family of Orleans, the feeble sovereign dared not carry the sentence of the law into execution Philippo-Maria lost not a moment in causing against so powerful an offender as the Duke of himself to be proclaimed duke. To secure the Burgundy. Valentina knew this; she knew also fidelity of the soldiery, he married, without dethat she could not find elsewhere one who could lay, the widow of their loved commander. Bea enforce her claims for justice-justice on the trice di Tenda, wife of Facino Cane, was an old murderer of her husband-the slayer of the woman, while her young bridegroom was scarcefather of her defenseless children. Milan, the ly twenty years of age: so ill-assorted a union home of her girlhood, was a slaughter-house, could scarcely be a happy one. Philippo-Maria, reeking with the blood of her kindred. Five the moment his power was firmly secured, reyears previously her father, Giovanni-Galeazzo solved to free himself from a wife whose many Visconti, had died of the plague which then virtues could not compensate for her want of desolated Italy. To avoid this terrible disorder youth and beauty. The means to which he rehe shut himself up in the town of Marignano, and sorted were atrocious: he accused the poor old amused himself during his seclusion by the study duchess of having violated her marriage vow, of judicial astrology, in which science he was and compelled, by fear of the torture, a young an adept. A comet appeared in the sky. The courtier, Michel Orombelli, to become her ac haughty Visconti doubted not that this phe-cuser. nomenon was an announcement to him of his approaching death. "I thank God," he cried, "that this intimation of my dissolution will be evident to all men my glorious life will be not ingloriously terminated." The event justified

The duke, therefore, doomed them both to be beheaded. Before the fatal blow of the executioner made her his victim, Beatrice di Tenda eloquently defended herself from the calumnies of her husband and the base and trembling Orombelli. "I do not repine,' she said, "for I am justly punished for having vio By his second marriage with Katharina Vis-lated, by my second marriage, the respect due conti, daughter of his uncle Bernabos, Giovanni to the memory of my deceased husband; I subGaleazzo left two sons, still very young, Giovanni-mit to the chastisement of heaven; I only pray Maria and Philippo-Maria, among whom his do- that my innocence may be made evident to all minions were divided, their mother acting as and that my name may be transmitted to poste:guardian and regent. ity pure and spotless."

the omen.

All the ferocious characteristics of the Visconti Such were the sons of Giovanni-Galeazza seemed to be centred in the stepmother of Va- Visconti, the half-brothers of the gentle Valenlentina. The Duchess of Milan delighted in tina of Orleans. When she sank broken-hearted executions; she beheaded, on the slightest sus-into an early grave-her husband unavenged, picions, the highest nobles of Lombardy. At her children unprotected-she felt how hopeless length she provoked reprisals, and died the it would be to look for succor or sympathy to victim of poison. Giovanni-Maria, nurtured in blood, was the worthy son of such a mother. His thirst for blood was unquenchable; his favorite pursuit was to witness the torments of criminals delivered over to bloodhounds, trained for the purpose, and fed only on human flesh. His huntsman and favorite, Squarcia Giramo, on one occasion, for the amusement of his master, threw to them a young boy only twelve years of age. The innocent child clung to the knees of the duke, and entreated that he might be preserved from so terrible a fate. The bloodhounds hung back. Squarcia Giramo seizing the child, with his hunting-knife cut his throat, and then flung him to the dogs. More merciful than these human monsters, they refused to touch the innocent victim.

Facino Cane, one of the ablest generals of the late duke, compelled the young princes to admit him to their council, and submit to his management of their affairs; as he was childless himself, he permitted them to live, stripped of power, and in great penury. To the sorrow and dismay of the Milanese, they saw this salutary check on the ferocious Visconti about to be removed by the death of Facino Cane. Determ

her father's house; yet her last moments were passed in peace. Her maternal solicitude for her defenseless orphans was soothed by the conviction that they would be guarded and protected by one true and faithful friend. Their magnanimous and high-minded mother had attached to them, by ties of affection and gratitude more strong, more enduring than those of blood, one well fitted by his chivalrous nature and heroic bravery to defend and shelter the children of his protectress. Dunois-"the young and brave Dunois"-the bastard of Orleans, as he is generally styled, was the illegitimate son of her husband. Valentina, far from slighting the neglected boy, brought him home to her, nurtured and educated him with her children, cherishing him as if he had indeed been the son of her bosom. If the chronicles of the time are to be believed, she loved him more fondly than her own offspring. My noble and gallant boy," she would say to him, "I have been robbed of thee; it is thou that art destined to be thy father's avenger; wilt thou not, for my sake, who have loved thee so well, protect and cherish these helpless little ones ?"

Long years after the death of Valentina the

vengeance of heaven did overtake Jean-sanspeur of Burgundy: he fell the victim of treachery such as he had inflicted on Louis of Orleans;

THE SNOWY MOUNTAINS IN NEW
ZEALAND.

HE 66

but the cruel retaliation was not accomplished T Wellington Independent" gives the fol

through the instrumentality or connivance of the Orleanists: Dunois was destined to play a far nobler part. The able seconder of Joan of Arc —the brave defender of Orleans against the besieging English host-he may rank next to his illustrious country woman, "La Pucelle," as the deliverer of his country from foreign foes. His bravery in war was not greater than his disinterested devotion to his half-brothers. Well and nobly did he repay to Valentina, by his unceasing devotion to her children, her tender care of his early years. Charles of Orleans, taken prisoner by the English at the fatal battle of Agincourt, was detained for the greater part of his life in captivity: his infant children were unable to maintain their rights. Dunois reconquered for them their hereditary rights, the extensive appanages of the house of Orleans. They owed every thing to his sincere and watchful

affection.

Valentina's short life was one of suffering and trial; but she seems to have issued from the furnace of affliction "purified seven times." In the midst of a licentious court and age, she shines forth a "pale pure star." Her spotless fame has never been assailed. Piety, purity, and goodness, were her distinguishing characteristics. She was ever a self-sacrificing friend, a tender mother, a loving and faithful wife. Her gentle endurance of her domestic trials recalls to mind the character of one who may almost be styled her contemporary, the "patient Griselda," so immortalized by Chaucer and Boccacio. Valentina adds another example to the many which history presents for our contemplation, to show that suffering virtue, sooner or later, meets with its recompense, even in this life. The brokenhearted Duchess of Orleans became the ances

On

tress of two lines of French sovereigns, and
through her the kings of France founded their
elaims to the Duchy of Milan. Her grandson,
Louis the Twelfth, the "father of his people,"
was the son of the poet Duke of Orleans.
the extinction of male heirs to this elder branch,
the descendant of her younger son, the Duke of
Angoulême, ascended the throne as Francis the
First. Her great-grand-daughter was the mother
of Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, the "magnanimo
Alfonso" of the poet Tasso. His younger sister,
Leonora, will ever be remembered as the beloved
one of the great epic poet of Italy-the ill-starred
Torquato Tasso.

The mortal remains of Valentina repose at Blois; her heart is buried with her husband, in the church of the Celestines at Paris. Over the tomb was placed the following inscription :

"Cy gist Loys Duc D'Orleans.
Lequel sur tons duez terriens,
Fut le plus noble en son vivant
Mais ung qui voult aller devant,
Par envye le feist mourir."

VOL. I.-No. 1.-E

M. N.

lowing account of a recent expedition made by the Lieutenant-Governor to the Middle Island: After leaving the Wairau, having trav. ersed the Kaparate hau district, his Excellency and his attendants reached the snowy mountains to the southward, about four short days' journey from the Wairau, and encamped at the foot of the Tapuenuko mountain, which they ascended. Previously to starting into the pass which is supposed to exist between the Wairau and Port Cooper plains, his Excellency ascended the great snowy mountain which forms the principal peak of the Kaikoras, and which attains an elevati ʼn of at least 9000 feet, the upper part being heavily covered with snow to a great depth. He succeeded in reaching the top of the mountain, but so late as to be unable to push on to the southern edge of the sunimit, when an etensive view southwards would have been obtained. In returning, a steep face of the hill (little less than perpendicular), down which hung a bed of frozen snow, had to be crossed for a considerable distance. Mr. Eyre, who had led the party up the dangerous ascent, was ir. advance with one native he others being 200 feet before and behind him, on the same perpendicular of the snow. He heard a cry, and looking round, saw Wiremu Hoeta falling down the precipice, pitching from ledge to ledge, and rolling over and over in the intervals, till he fell dead, and no doubt smashed to pieces at a depth below of about 1500 feet, where his body could be seen in a sort of ravine, but where it was impossible to get at it. His Excellency narrowly escaped from similar destruction, having lost both feet from under him, and only saving himself by the use of an iron-shod pole which he carried. Another of the natives had a still narrower escape, having actually fallen about fifteen yards, when he succeeded in clutching a rock and saving himself. The gloom which this unfortunate event caused, and the uncertainty of crossing the rivers while the snows are melting, induced his Excellency to return.

GENIUS.

SELF-COMMUNION and solitude are its daily

bread; for what is genius but a great and strongly-marked individuality-but an original creative being, standing forth alone amidst the undistinguishable throng of our everyday world? Genius is a lonely power; it is not communicative; it is not the gift of a crowd; it is not a reflection cast from without upon the soul. It is essentially an inward light, diffusing its clear and glorious radiance over the external world. It is a broad flood, pouring freely forth its deep waters; but with its source forever hidden from human ken. It is the creator, not the creature · it calls forth glorious and immortal shapes; but it is called into being by none-save God.Women in France during the Eighteenth Centurɩ