register in the vestry-book. To her femmes de chambre, a physician, an apothe- The character of this female is easily explained. She had a foolish fashionable mother, who taught her to covet the vanity of distinction. She acquired it by nefarious arts, became rich and ostentatious, lived flagitiously, died dishonored, and is only remembered for her vices. Sun rises sets Twilight ends. Blackberries ripen. Paris iii. 221. h. m. 2 55 5 6 . 654 9 5 away through the garish light, to seek some other congenial resort. There yet remains the mitred archway very fair and large, of wrought stone, which separated the chancel from the body of the Church,' apparently of more recent workmanship than the rest of the building. One of the gable ends having suffered considerable injury, the roof in many places stands off from it, and the light thus admitted strikes 30 vividly on the eye as to produce a painful effect. When Hasted saw it, there was a breach made in the north side, wide enough for cattle to go in for shelter, and to receive ploughs, harrows, and other implements of husbandry; it is now repaired." A little boy went into a barn, And lay down on some hay: And the little boy ran away. So runs one of those "Songs for the Nursery" endeared to us by association with our brightest and most pleasurable days. It is culled from a collection published in 1825, by William Darton, Holborn-hill, who is entitled to our best thanks for car rying us back to those scenes of infancy and boyhood which the mist of years cannot shroud, but on the contrary serves only to invest with an air of sanctity and beauty. These verses are different in their character, and display a variety of talent. Some are instructive, some amusing, some traditionary, but all, with one or two exceptions, are just what they should be. The mens conscia recti is admirably illus trated in the little narrative of Jack Horner. Little Jack Horner Sat in a corner Eating a christmas pie, He put in his thumb And pulled out a plum And said, What a good boy am I !' From this history it will be at once evident that the complacency of Little Jack arises, not from his simple and undivided interest in the pie, but from a consciousness that he had acted uprightly,—the pastry being very possibly the reward of his honorable behaviour. For sublimity of conception I know of nothing that excels the following: To be sung on a high wind. Milton's winds "rushing abroad from the four hinges of the world, and falling on the vext wilderness," shrinks into insignificance, when compared with this mighty conqueror "breaking his band," roaring and raving up the land, and daring even a " King of Scots" to take the field against him. Then there is the sweet blending of high and manly dignity with all the gentleness of love supposed, in the name bestowed on this valorous personage-the greatness and majesty couched under the appellation "Arthur," combined with the soft and soothing considerations inseparably connected with his title "of the bower!" Take as a contrast to this busy bustling hero, a piece of "still life" transplanted from p. 11 : Hickory, dickory, dock, The mouse ran up the clock, The clock struck one, And the mouse came down, Hickory, dickory, dock! very Think, gentle reader, of the "grim and breathless hour of noon," and transport yourself to a cottage in the country, with its door standing ajar, and the window thrown open to the widest. The clock stands within a few minutes of the " witching hour of day," but the good housewife, not having read Milton, knows nothing of the "fear lest dinner cool," and has dropped into her neighbour's to hear the news. A poor mouse steals out into the quiet sunshine and clambers up the varnished case of this appendage, for what purpose this deponent saith not, when lo! Alas for Miss Muffett! she has marvellously diverted us: Little Miss Muffett She sat on a tuffett, And frightened Miss Muffett away. Picture to yourself the dark and side-long gait of the smart little spider, scrambling towards the young lady, and taking in most orderly sort his seat beside her! Then for the distress and consternation of little Miss Muffett; how she screams out, leaps up, and shakes her frock as if all the scorpions in Egypt were clinging round it, and then wheels round like a dying peg-top, till, having staggered a few paces onwards, she settles down upon a daisied bank to take breath; and, ten to one, dreams of spiders all the next night! St. Pierre was right when he said that persons usually choose for their companions through life those who differ from them in certain essentials, and this constitutes the grand mystery of conjugal felicity. Take a lesson from Jack Sprat's wife, and choose one whose habits will as happily dove-tail with yours: Once on a charger there was laid, It was on Herod's natal day, This was he, that saintly John, Honey and locusts were his food, Herod kept in princely state The damsel back; to Herod said, Thee, Herodias' daughter, thee, CHARLES LAMB. "If any thing," says Voltaire," could justify those who believe in an unavoidable fatality, it would be the series of misfortunes which, for the space of three hundred years, have befallen the House of Stuart." It is affirmed that when Fleance, the son of Banquo, fled into North Wales to shield himself from the power of Macbeth, the tyrant of Scotland, he found a friendly asylum at the court of Griffydth ap Llewellyn, the reigning prince, by whom he was long entertained with the warmest affection; and that becoming enamoured of Nest, the daughter of Grif fydth, and violating the laws of hospitality and honor, he formed an illicit intimacy with her, and had by her a son whom they named Walter. Gryffydth, in resentment for so foul an offence, ordered Fleance to be slain, and reduced his daughter to servitude. As her son Walter advanced in years, he excelled in valor and elevation of mind. In a dispute with a companion his birth was reproachfully retorted on him; he slew his antagonist on the spot, and fearing to abide the consequences fled into Scotland, where he attached himself to the English, in the train of Queen Margaret, sister to Edgar Atheling. Walter by his conduct and ability acquired great esteem; he obtained honorable public employment, and was ultimately appointed High Steward of Scotland, from which offee he and his descendants took the name of Stewart, or Stuart. From this root sprung the royal family of Stuart, as well as other branches of illustrious families in Scotland.* Sir Walter Scott, however, alleges that Early authorities show us no such persons as Banquo and his son Fleance, nor have we reason to think that the latter ever fled further from Macbeth than across the flat scene according to the stage directionneither were Banquo or his son ancestors to the house of Stuart."+ In addition to this, there is a statement of more importance by Sir Walter-"The genealogy of the Stewart family, who acceded to the throne of Scotland, has been the theme of many a fable. But their pedigree has by late antiquarians been distinctly traced to the great Anglo-Norman family of FitzAlan in England: no unworthy descent for a race of monarchs. In David the first's time, Walter Fitz-Alan held the high post of Senechal or high steward of the king's household; and, the dignity becoming hereditary in the family, what was originally a title became a surname." I their being descended from Banquo, and that one of our Universities also gave credence to it, is a recorded fact-for University of Oxford, on passing the gate when James I. (of England) visited the of St. John's College, his Majesty was saluted by three youths representing the weird sisters (Sibylla) who in Latin hexhail, as king of Scotland, England, and ameters bade the descendant of Banquo Collegio extra portam urbis Borealem sito, Ireland. "Ad Regis introitum, e Joanensi tres quasi Sibyllæ, ut e sylvâ salutâ That the Stuarts themselves believed in runt. |