s accurate and authentic narrative, if I can seriously impress on the
minds of my readers the perishable nature of mundane affairs--if I can
make them reflect that memory itself, the noblest, perhaps the
characteristic, quality of the human mind, will decay, even while other
faculties exist--and that, in the words of a celebrated Lord of Trade
and Plantations, of the name of John Locke, "we may be like the tombs to
which we are hastening, where, though the brass and marble remain, yet
the imagery is defaced, and the inscription is blotted out for ever!"

THE ENCHANTER FAUSTUS AND QUEEN
ELIZABETH.

ANECDOTE EXTRACTED PROM THE DOCTOR'S UNPUBLISHED
MEMOIRS.

"I do not say it is possible--I only say it is true."

[_MAGA._ AUGUST 1822.]

Elizabeth was a wonderful princess for wisdom, learning, magnificence,
and grandeur of soul. All this was fine,--but she was as envious as a
decayed beauty--jealous and cruel--and that spoiled all. However, be her
defects what they may, her fame had pierced even to the depths of
Germany, whence the Enchanter Faustus set off for her court, that great
magician wishing to ascertain by his own wits, whether Elizabeth was as
gifted with good qualities as she was with bad. No one could judge this
for him so well as himself, who read the stars like his A B C, and whom
Satan obeyed like his dog--yet, withal, who was not above a thousand
pleasant tricks, that make people laugh, and hurt no one: such, for
instance, as turning an old lord into an old lady, to elope with his
cook-maid--exchanging a handsome wife for an ugly one, &c. &c.

The Queen, charmed with the pretty things which she heard of him, wished
much to see him--and from the moment that she did, became quite
fascinated. On his side, he found her better than he had expected;
not but that he perceived she thought a great deal too much of her
wit--though she had a tolerable share of it; and still more of her
beauty--of which she had rather less.

One day that she was dressed with extraordinary splendour, to give
audience to some ambassadors, she retired into her cabinet at the close
of the ceremony, and sent for the Doctor. After having gazed at herself
in all the mirrors in the room, and seeming very well pleased with their
reflection,--for her roses and lilies were as good as gold could buy,
her petticoat high enough to show her ankle, and her frill low to expose
her bosom,--she sat down _en attitude_, in her great chair