of the valuable paintings, papers, &c." In digging the canal at Basing, several human skeletons, cannon balls, coins, and other ancient articles were found. An immense old chalk pit, a little to the north of Basing, is still known by the name of "Oliver Cromwell's Dell." It appears, from a survey made in 1798, that the area of the works, including the garden and the entrenchment, occupied about fourteen acres and a half. The form was irregular, the ditches deep, and the ramparts high and strong; some of the remains are yet very bold and and striking. The citadel was circular, having an oblong square platform at the north, defended by a rampart and covered way. The north gateway is yet standing : which, surmounted with venerable ivy, concealing the ancient arms of the Pawlets, constitutes a fine relic of former grandeur. Part of the outward walls, constructed with brick, still remain. The site of the ruins is particularly commanding the canal from Basingstoke has been cut through part of the works; and the outward intrenchments have been rendered very obscure and imperfect, from some late improvements in the ground. The medium depth of the fosse, which surrounded the citadel, is about thirty-six feet perpendicular. The marquis of Winchester, whose property was thus reduced to ruin in the cause of Charles I., was a catholic. He lived till the restoration, but received no recompence from an ungrateful court, for his immense losses. During the latter part of his life, he resided at Englefield, in Berkshire, where he greatly enlarged the manor-house, the front of which bore a beautiful resemblance to a church-organ, and was a singularly pleasing object to all that passed the road between Reading and Newbury; this fine front is now no more. The marquis translated from the French the "Gallery of Heroic Women," 1652; and Talon's 66 Holy History," 1653. He died in 1674, and was buried in the parish church of Englefield, where there is a monument to him with an epitaph in English by Dryden. There is a portrait of him among the ovals of Hollar, who likewise engraved a very small view of Basing-house, which is extremely rare : a print of this view at Dr. Combes' sale produced £30. Hollar was with the marquis in Basing-house at the time of the assault, but effected his escape. October 14. Day breaks Sun rises sets Twilight ends October 15. 15 October, 1724, died in confinement, at the age of seventy-four, Paul Atkinson, a Franciscan friar. He was a native of Yorkshire, and had been infamously betrayed by his female servant, for a reward of 100l., under the penal statue of William III. against Romish priests. He was condemned to perpetual imprisonment, in Hurst Castle, in the Isle of Wight; and lived there with cheerful composure, beloved and respected by the governor, and the whole neighbourhood, as an unfortunate, amiable man. He had been allowed the liberty of occasionally walking abroad, till some wretched bigots complained of the humane indulgence, and then he voluntarily retired to his poor lodging, that he might give no offence, nor occasion blame to his kind keeper; he never again left the castle, nor would he permit any application to be made for a mitigation of his doom. Upon his death, in prison, his remains were removed to Winchester, and interred in the cemetery of St. James's, the burialplace of many Roman catholics. Friar Atkinson is still remembered, and tears have flowed from protestant eyes, for his sad fate. It has been presumed that had George I. and queen Caroline been fully acquainted with his situation, and his meek demeanour, his prison doors would have been set open. Their majesties were both friends to toleration; and the queen in particular frequently entrusted the duchess of Norfolk with sums of money, for distribution among sufferers of the Roman catholic communion.* VERSES By an Anonymous hand, 1587. The sturdy rock, for all his strength, By raging seas, is rent in twaine; The marble stone is pearst at length, With littel drops of drizzling raine : The ox doth yield unto the yoke, The steele obeyeth the hammer-stroke. * Noble. The stately stagge, that seemes sa stout, 16 October, 1586, Sir Philip Sidney died of his wounds at the battle of Zutphen; he is said to have been interred in St. Paul's cathedral with great pomp, but without monument or inscription. There are interesting memoirs of this miracle of his age," and of "the subject of all verse, Sidney's sister," Mary countess of Pembroke, in "Mornings in Spring," by Dr. Drake, who there inserts the following letter to sir Philip, when twelve-years of age, and at school at Shrewsbury, from his father sir Henry Sidney. It is an epistle of excellent advice, and, that it may be better noted, most of the sentiments are here separated into paragraphs. [From the original at Penshurst.] "I have received two letters from you, one written in Latin, the other in French; which I take in good part, and will you to exercise that practice of learning often; for that will stand you in most stead, in that profession of life that you are born to live in. And, since this is my first letter that ever I did write to you, I will not that it be all empty of some advices, which my natural care of you provoketh me to wish you to follow, as documents to you in this your tender age. Let your first action be the lifting up of your mind to Almighty God by hearty prayer; and feelingly digest the words you speak in prayer, with continual meditation and thinking of him to whom you pray, and of the matter for which you pray; and use this at an ordinary hour, whereby the time itself will put you in remembrance to do that which you are accustomed to do in that time. Apply your study to such hours as your discreet master doth assign you, earnestly; and the time, I know, he will so limit as shall be both sufficient for your learning, and safe for your health. And mark the sense and the matter of that you read, as well as the words; so shall you both enrich your tongue with words, and your wit with matter; and judgment will grow as years groweth in you. Be humble and obedient to your master; for unless you frame yourself to obey others, yea, and feel in yourself what obedience is, you shall never be able to teach others how to obey you. Be cautious of gesture, and affable to all men, with diversity of reverence, according to the dignity of the person, There is nothing that winneth so much with so little cost. Use moderate diet, so as, after your meat, you may find your wit fresher and not duller, and your body more lively, and not more heavy. Seldom drink wine, and yet sometimes do, lest being enforced to drink upon the sudden you should find yourself inflamed. Use exercise of body, but such as is without peril of your joints or bones; it will increase your force and enlarge your breath. Delight to be cleanly, as well in all parts of your body as in your garments; it shall make you grateful in each company, and, otherwise, loathsome. Give yourself to be merry; for you degenerate from your father, if you find not yourself most able in wit and body to do any thing when you be most merry. But let your mirth be ever void of all scurrility and biting words to any man; for a wound given by a word is oftentimes harder to be cured than that which is given with the sword. Be you rather a hearer and bearer away of other men's talk, than a beginner or procurer of speech, otherwise you shall be counted to delight to hear yourself speak. If you hear a wise sentence, or an apt phrase, commit it to your memory, with respect to the circumstance when you shall speak it. Let never oath be heard to come out of your mouth, nor word of ribaldry; detest it in others, so shall custom make to yourself a law against it in yourself. Be modest in each assembly; and rather be rebuked of light fellows for maiden-like shamefacedness, than of your sad friends for pert boldness. Think upon every word that you will speak before you utter it, and remember how nature hath rampered up, as it were, the tongue with teeth, lips, yea, and hair without the lips, and all betokening reins or bridles for the loose use of that member. Above all things, tell no untruth, no not in trifles. The custom of it is naught; and let it not satisfy you, that, for a time, the hearers take it for a truth; for, after, it will be known as it is, to your shame; for there cannot be a greater reproach to a gentleman than to be accounted a liar. Study and endeavour yourself to be virtuously occupied so shall you make such a habit of well doing in you, that you shall not know how to do evil though you would. Remember, my son, the noble blood you are descended of by your mother's side, and think that only by virtuous life and good action, you may be an ornament to that illustrious family; and otherwise, through vice and sloth, you shall be counted labes generis, one of the greatest curses that can happen to man. Well, my little Philip, this is enough for me, and too much I fear for you. But, if I shall find that this light meal of digestion nourish any thing the weak stomach of your young capacity, I will, as I find the same grow stronger, feed it with tougher food. Your loving father, so long as you live in the fear of God, H. SYDNEY." FAREWELL TO SPLENDID FOLLIES. Leave me, O Love! which reachest but to dust; Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might Oh! take fast hold, let that light be shy guide Sir Philip Sidney, PARSONAGE, FOBBING, ESSEX. [For the Year Book.] It was towards the close of one of the brightest and most serene evenings I have ever witnessed in the early part of August, that I reached the quiet parsonage of Fobbing for a brief sojourn. There is something extremely venerable in its aspect, seen in the sober twilight from the garden gate, where I subsequently posted myself to make the sketch which precedes this article. The novelty of the place called me up at an early hour on the following morning, for I literally rose with the sun, and sat for some time enjoying the delicious freshness of the air at the open window, and listening to the varied sounds of gratularion which welcomed in the day. The harsh and petulent clamor of a number of restless "stares," tenanting the old church tower that stood in substantial grandeur immediately adjoining the front garden, occasionally interposed, afforded a contrast to the mellow tones of the blackbird, rustling in the laurels surrounding the lawn, or occasionally venturing from its hiding place, to hurry to some other neighbouring seclusion, and sing unseen amongst the fragrance of green leaves, and opening flowers. The first faint rays of the sun had no sooner lighted up a corner of the old barn opposite my window, than the mist which obscured the distance gradually dispersed, and I obtained a prospect, which, though very limited in extent, was not deficient in objects of interest. The rich pasture lands interspersed with farms and other buildings, and varied by clumps of trees, stretched away towards the river, beyond which the opposite shore rose in beautiful variety. Several vessels were moving onwards in gloomy grandeur, or reflecting the sun-light from their broad sails as they veered about; and at no great distance the neighbouring church of Corringham lifted its huge wooden spire like a pyramid of fog above the thatched roof of an out-house in the centre of the picture. 66 On a subsequent visit to this building, I particularly noticed its massy tower, which bears evident traces of extreme antiquity. The interior presents a very neat appearance, though over the belfry door my eye caught a cunning sculpture, with something of a Grimaldi cast and coloring about it, and perhaps not altogether so grave and reverend" as good old Herbert could have wished. In passing up the aisle I bestowed a brief attention on the sepulchral brasses of Thomas Atlee, " quondam formarius istius manerij," and Alicia Greyde, who died the 17th May, 1454. Some sculptured tiles on which I could trace no definite figures, and an old stone with the remains of a Lombardic inscription, inlaid with a brass plate, commemorating "Robert Draper, persone of Coningham, who deceased the 18th December, 1595," were the only other remarkables on this part of the church. I transcribed such of the letters as remained of this abused memorial, and had little difficulty in supplying the remainder as they are here printed : ABELE: BAVD: GIST: ICI: DIEV: DE: SA: ALME: EIT: MERCI. Within the communion rails there still exists a half length portraiture of one of the former rectors richly apparalled, and like a true priest "all shaven and shorn,"--though the puritans have been less merciful to his quondam neighbour, a flaw in the slab that covers his remains being the only intimation that his ashes are there entombed. I should not fail, moreover, to mention, that in one of the windows you may see a dove with an olive leaf in its mouth, and bearing a scroll inscribed with the word Lohannes, a rebus, very probably on the name of some benefactor to the church. These details have led me away from my descant on the gentle scenery, which I was contemplating as I sat recruiting my vext spirit from a two-fold fountain, and enjoying, in the highest sense of that expression, "A gleam of glory after six days' showers." -A cool gush of wind strayed through the foliage which fringed my window. I looked on the distant sky, and imagined it to be just ripe for showering tears." A sound followed like the pattering of rain on some twinkling covert, and I welcomed its kindly presence, but on turning round to greet it, saw only the lofty poplars beside me, glancing and fluttering in the clear sunlight as if every leaf were a living thing; and the grey church tower standing in shadow beyond them. And here it may be fitting to make further mention of this same church which stands upon a high hill and is dedicated to St. Michael. There are within it several monumental stones from which the brass inlays have been removed, "either for greediness of the brass, or for that they were thought to be antichristian," and on the north wall of the chancel, the Lombardic inscription here copied : : POVR LAMOVR de JESV CHRIST PATER NOSTER ET AVE The window over the altar contains some fragments of stained glass, amongst which I could distinguish a miniature representation of the nativity, and another scripture piece too imperfect to enable me to speak decidedly as to its subject. These, and the letters ri, the termination probably of some supplicatory inscription on behalf of the pious decorator of another window on the south side, where they occur, are all that I noticed in my search after the antique. To return to the parsonage,—“ It hath a faire garden, very sweet and sightly withal, and proper for pleasure or pastime.' Here then you might have seen me, had you been so minded, holding converse with nature for awhile; and anon elsewhere, but never beyond the pale of happiness, which I hold to be only another name for Fobbing Parsonage. D. A. |