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Forty years ago, six miles an hour was veyance now used only by poor countryreckoned fair speed for a stage coach. In women, and foot-sore trampers. He France, twenty years before, the travelling- says, -." That I might not take post, or carriage was the waggon-like machine of be obliged to use the stage-coach, I went wicker-work represented in the engraving, from Dover to London in a waggon : 1 which is taken from a view on a high-road, was drawn by six horses, one before published in the early part of the reign of another, and drove by a waggoner, who Louis XVI., who came to the throne in walked by the side of it. He was clothed 1774. There is no coach-box to this ve- in black, and appointed in all things like hicle; the driver sits leisurely on one of another St. George; he had a brave the horses; his passengers, inside and mounteror on his head, and was a merry outside, loll leisurely ; and his horses fellow, fancied he made a figure, and drag leisurely. Instead of glasses there seemed mightily pleased with himself.* are leathern curtains, which unfurl from the top, and furl up, and flap when down, or wholly obscure the light. It is little
January 19. better, and perhaps it moved only a little quicker, than a common stage-waggon.
Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, a Our own stage-coaches in the time of scholar and a poet, “a man” esteemed by George II. were scarcely of superior con
Sir Walter Raleigh “no less valiant than trivances.
learned, and of excellent hopes," was beWhen M. Sorbiere, a French man of headed on Tower Hill, for high treason, letters, came to England, in the reign of on the 19th of January, 1547. Charles II., for the purpose of being in
The Earl of Surrey had served in Flodtroduced to the king, and visiting our
den Field, in 1513, and held the office of most distinguished literary and scientific characters, he proceeded from the place
Sobiere's Voyage to England, 1709. 8vo. of his landing to the metropolis, by a conVol. 1.-4
high admiral of England : in compliment And thereto hath a treth as just to Henry VIII., he had been made ad- As had Penelope the fair : miral of Spain by the emperor Charles V.
For what she saith ye may it trust, He distinguished himself at home and As it by writing sealed were : abroad by bravery of arms, courtesy of And virtues hath she many moe manners, and literary aecomplishments. Than I with pen have skill to show. When Henry, in his latter days, retained
I could rehearse, if that I would, the desire without the power of gratifi
The whole effect of Nature's plaint, cation, and remembrance of his great The like to whom she could not paint.
When she had lost the perfect mould, crimes terrified his feeble conscience, With wringing hands how she did cry! he became jealous of his best servants.
And what sbe said, I know it, I. Surrey,who quartered the arms of Edward the Confessor, by authority of the court
I know she swore, with raging mind, of arms, was, on that pretence, suspect. There was no loss, by law of kind,
Her kingdom only set apart, ed of aspiring to the crown, and the king That could have gone so pear her heart sent him to the scaffold. The decease of And this was chiefly all her pain the sensual monarch nine days afterwards She could not make the like again. * prevented the death of Surrey's father, the Duke of Norfolk, whose execution had been appointed for the following January 19.-Day breaks 5 46 morning.
7 47 sets
4 13 Among the “noble authors” of his
Twilight ends 6 14 age, the Earl of Surrey stands pre-emi
The gold crest sings. nently first in rank. In his early youth he made the tour of Europe in the true spirit of chivalry, and by the caprice of Henry
January 20. he was recalled from Italy, where he had
John Howard, the philanthropist, died engaged in tournament and song for love of a lady, the “fair Geraldine," whose
at Cherson, in Russia, on the 20th of identity has escaped discovery. He re
Jannary, 1790. He was born in 1726, turned home the most elegant traveller, and, devoting his life to active benevolence, the most polite lover, the most learned
made “a circumnavigation of charity," nobleman, and the most accomplished different countries, with a view to miti
visiting the prisons and lazarettoes of gentleman of his age. Surrey's sonnets in praise of the lady of his love are in- gate the hardships of the distressed. tensely impassioned, and
As a gratification to the curious, a English poetry, till refined by Surrey, de gentleman obligingly communicates the
following generated into metrical chronicles or tasteless allegories. His love verses equal Original Letter from Mr. Howard. the best in our language; while in har
Cologn, August 4, 1770. mony of numbers, perspicuity of expression, and facility of phraseology, they any distance can make me forget the long
I hope my dear friend does not think approach so near the productions of our own age, as hardly to be believed the off- Little to entertain my friend, yet must
friendship that has subsisted betwixt us. spring of the reign of Henry VIII. War- tell him what a Rambler I am. "When I on perceives almost the ease and gal- left London last year for Leghorn I was antry of Waller in some of the following so ill a-board that I crost into France, stanzas,
and went into Switzerland, so to Turin A PRAISE OF HIS LOVE.
and the northern part of Italy. As winter
travelling so bad in Italy I returned into Whercin he reproveth them that compare
France and went 10 Holland, and early their ladies with his.
in the Spring I sett out and visited the Give place, ye lovers, bere before That spent your boasts and brags in vain : * Another stanza closes this poem. ParMy lady's beauty passeth more
ticulars respecting the Earl of Surrey and his The best of yours, I dare well sayne,
works are in Warton's History of English Than doth the sun the candle light,
Poetry, 8vo. iii. 288 ; Walpole's Royal and Or brightest day the darkest night.
Noble Authors by Park, 8vo. i, 255, &c.
Southern part of France and crost the dish of Tea next Winter. I must conclude Apennine mountains, which indeed are with much Esteem, I am Dear Sir Your very bad, for miles often not above a Affectionate Friend and Relation, three foot road, with perpendicular rocks
J. HOWARD. three times as high as St. Paul's, but use, Fro Bruxelles, and the surefootedness of the mules, soon To Mr. Hamilton; wore off any fear. Again into Italy,
Merchant, where I have been all this summer. In Cateaton Street, Should I begin to describe the elegance
London. of their Palaces or Churches, the Statues, or Pictures, my letter would soon be filld.
Marims, by Howard. A rich fine country, great entertainment to a Traveller ; but the Inhabitants lazy, for the convenience of others;
Our superfluities should be given up idle, proud, profligate in the highest degree, which gives pain to a thinking the necessities of others;
Our conveniences should give place to mind and rejoices his lott is not cast among them. The Heat was excessive the extremities of the poor.
And even our necessities give way to both at Naples, Rome, and Venice. Every body lays down for some hours in the
h. m. middle of the day. I often observed the
5 45 profound silence in the streets at Rome January 20.-Day breaks
7 46 at 2, 3, and 4 o'Clock. I was at Venice within this month: the heat beyond any
4 14 thing felt in England. I have much ado
Twilight ends 6 15 since I have been travelling in Germany
The missel thrush, or mavis, sings. to keep my great coat off. I went to Loretto, where so many of our Country
January 21. men went Pilgrimages in the time of darkness, Ignorance, and folly. Should I try to describe to you the Superstition
Cottage Stories. and folly one hears and sees you would I am afraid almost think your friend took
The dame the winter night regales
With winter's never ceasing tales ; the liberty some travellers do — their
While in a corner, ill at ease, creeping on their knees round their
Or crushing 'tween their father's knees, tended holy chamber, kissing the dust, The children-silent all the while, makeing maraculus Cakes of it, which I
And e'en repressed the laugh or smile know are wonderfully nasty. Great
Quake with the ague chills of fear, reasons to bless God for the Reformation
And tremble though they love to hear; that we ought so highly to value, when Starting, while they the tales recall, we see the idolatry, superstition, and non- At their own shadows on the wall : sense in the Romish Religion. I enjoy Till the old clock, that strikes unseen, a comfortable state of Health. The mi- Behind the picture-painted screen, serable shifts I have often been put to,
Counts over bed-time, hour of rest, and being alone makes it still a greater
And bids each be sleep's fearful guest. happiness. A calm easy flow of spirits, To finish on to-morrow's eve –
She then her half-told tales will leave but somewhat fatigueing in this country. The children steal away to bed, As I have not my own Carriage, which is
And up the staircase softly tread; very expensive, am forced to travel one
Scarce daring—from their fearful joysor two nights together. The roads To look behind or make a noise ; very bad, the Post Stages always going Nor speak a word! but, still as sleep, night and day. I have the pleasure of They secret to their pillows creep, drawing near to my dear boy and friends, And whisper o'er in terror's way whom indeed I long to see, yet I am not The prayers they dare no longer say ; fixt in my returning scheme. May I hope Then hide their heads beneath the clothes, to hear by a letter at the Post House at And try in vain to seek repose.
Clare. Rotterdam how you and Mrs. Hamilton do, to whom my best Respects, and tell Her a rambling disposition is not contagious when I come to Her house, where At a town in the west of England a I hope to have the pleasure of drinking a club of twenty-four people assembled
A GHOST STORY.
once a week to drink punch, smoke to- club, who was an apothecary, in the course bacco, and talk politics. Each member of his practice attended an old woman, had his peculiar chair, and the president's who gained her living hy nursing sick perwas more exalted than the rest. It was a sons. She was now ill herself, and, finding rule that if a member was absent his her end near at hand, she told the apothechair should remain vacant.
cary she could leave the world with a One evening at the meeting of the good conscience, except for one thing club there was a vacant chair, which had which lay on hér mind." Do not you remained empty for several nights. It remember, sir,” she said, " the poor genbelonged to a member who was believed tleman whose ghost has been so much to be in a dying state, and inquiries were talked of? I was his nurse. The night naturally made after their associate. He he died I left the room for something I lived in the adjoining house. A particular wanted—I am sure I had not been abfriend went himself to inquire for him, sent long; but, at my return, I found the and reported to the club that he could bed without my patient. I knew he was not possibly survive the night. This dis- delirious, and I feared that he had thrown mal lidings threw a damp on the company. himself out of the window. I was so They took off their glasses without turning frightened that I had no power to stir : lively; they smoked, and still they were but after some time, to my great astonishgloomy: all efforts to turn the conversa- ment, he came back shivering, with his tion agreeably were ineffectual.
teeth chattering, and laid down on the At about midnight, the time when the bed, and died. Considering I had done club was usually most cheerful, a silence wrong by leaving him, I kept it a secret prevailed in the room, the door gently that he had left the room; and indeed I opened, and the form, in white, of the did not know what might be done to me. dying man, walked into the room, and I knew I could explain all the story of took a seat in the accustomed chair. the ghost, but I dared not do it. From There it remained in silence, and in silence what had happened I was certain that it was gazed at. His appearance contioued was he himself who had been in the club a sufficient time in the chair to convince room, perhaps recollecting that it was the all present of the reality of the vision. night of meeting. God forgive me for But they were in a state of awful astonish- keeping it secret so long !-and, if the ment. At length the apparition arose poor gentleman's friends forgive me, I and stalked towards the door, opened it, shall die in peace.” as if living-went out, and closed the door afterwards.
After a long pause, a member at last January 21.—Day breaks 5 44 had the resolution to say, “ If only one
7 45 of us had seen this, he would not have
4 15 been believed, but it is impossible that
Twilight ends. 6 16 so many persons can be deceived."
The black hellebore fully flowers. The company by degrees recovered their speech; and the whole conversation, as may be imagined, was respecting
January 22. the object of their alarm. They broke up in a body, and went home.
In the morning, inquiry was made after A MS. diary of a resident of the metrotheir sick friend." He dad died as nearly polis, purchased among some waste paper as possible about
the time of his appear at a place “ where it is part of the craft of ing at the club. There was scarcely room dealing not to tell how they come by what for
doubt before, but now there was absolute they sell,"contains the following entry :certainty of the reality of the apparition.
“ 1772, January 22.–Died in Emanuel The story spread over the country, and hospital, Mrs. Wyndymore, cousin of was so well attested as to obtain general Mary, queen of William III., as well as belief; for, in this case, the fact was at- of queen Anne. Strange revolution of tested by three-and-twenty credible eye- fortune ! that the cousin of two queens witnesses, all of them living.
should, for fifty years, be supported by Several years had elapsed, and the charity !” Of this lady there does not story had ceased to engage attention, and was almost forgotten, when one of the
• Relics of Literature, 304.
appear to be any printed account. A per- cannot help it. Another part of her son of leisure might be interested by in- charm is her singular beauty. Together
quiring into the real affinity which this with a good deal of the character of Na· female, who died in an alms-house, bore to poleon, she has something of his square, two sovereigns on the throne of England. sturdy, upright form, with the finest limbs
in the world, a complexion purely English,
a round laughing face, sunburnt and rosy, January 22.-Day breaks 5 43 large merry blue eyes, curling brown hair, Sun rises
7 43 and a wonderful play of countenance. She sets
4 17 has the imperial attitudes too, and loves Twilight ends
6 17 to stand with her hands behind her, or Sun beams to-day formerly betokened folded over her bosom; and sometimes, something to the credulous, as appears by when she has a little touch of shyness, she an obsolete saying, the meaning of which clasps them together on the top of her is lost. See Every-Day Book, i. 151. head, pressing down her shining curls,
and looking so exquisitely pretty! Yes,
Lizzy is queen of the village !”
January 23d. At noon to-day I and Do you know “ Our Village ?" It is a my white greyhound, May-flower, set out book-without exception the most de- for a walk into a very beautiful world, -a lightful book-of descriptions of the coun
sort of silent fairy-land,-a creation of try, and country life, and manners, that that matchless magician the hoar-frost. can be looked into—and all the better for There had been just snow enough to coming from the pen of a lady. There is
cover the earth and all its colors with in it, under the date of to day, a picture just time enough since the snow had
one sheet of pure and uniform white, and of frost scenery, as true and good as a
fallen to allow the hedges to be freed of landscape after rain by Constable: it is an account of a winter morning's walk
their fleecy load, and clothed with a deliand of the village carpenter's daughter, a
cate coating of rime. The atmosphere little girl, so charming that she must be
was deliciously calm; soft, even mild, in introduced, and then to the walk.
spite of the thermometer ; no perceptible
air, but a stillness that might almost be The Village Carpenter's Daughter.
felt: the sky, rather grey than blue,
throwing out in bold relief the snow-co-“ Next door lives a carpenter ' famed vered roofs of our village, and the rimy tea mniles round, and worthy all his fame, trees that rise above them, and the sun --few cabinet-makers surpass him, with shining dimly as through a veil, giving a his excellent wife, and their little daughter pale fair light, like the moon, only brighter. Lizzy, the plaything and queen of the There was a silence, too, that might bevillage, a child three years old according come the moon, as we stood at our little to the register, but six in size and strength gate looking up the quiet street; a saband intellect, in power and in self-will. bath-like pause of work and play, rare on She manages every body in the place, her a work-day ; nothing was audible but the school-mistress included; turns the pleasant hum of frost, that low monotonwbeeler's children out of their own little ous sound which is perhaps the nearest cart, and makes them draw her; seduces approach that life and nature can make to cakes and lollipops from the very shop absolute silence. The very waggons, as window; makes the lazy carry her, the they come down the hill along the beaten silent talk to her, the grave romp with her; track of crisp yellowish frost-dust, glide does any thing she pleases; is absolutely along like shadows; even May's boundirresistible. Her chief attraction lies in ing footsteps, at her height of glee and of her exceeding power of loving, and her speed, fall like snow upon snow. firm reliance on the love and indulgence But we shall have noise enough preof others. How impossible it would be sently: May has stopped at Lizzy's door; to disappoint the dear little girl when she and Lizzy, as she sat on the window-sill, ruas to meet you, slides her pretty hand with her bright rosy face laughing through into yours, looks up gladly in your face, the casement, has seen her and disapand says, 'come! You must go : you peared. She is coming.
No! The key