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He was not near when thou wert bornc to bear in mind that it is “better to be By otbers to thy parent earth,
brief than tedious;" for it must indeed be To think of former days, and mourn,
an important subject that would elicit In silence, o'er departed worth ;
from him inore than three lines : nor hath And seek thy cold and cheerless bed,
his riba whit more of the cacoethes scribendi And breathe a blessing for the dead.
about her-one would almost suppose they Destroying Death! thou hast one link
were the hero and heroine of an anecdote That bound me in this world's frail chain : I remember somewhere to have heard, of a And now I stand on life's rough brink,
gentleman who, by mere chance, strolled Like one whose heart is cleft in twain ;
into a coffee-house, where he met with a Save that, at times, a thought will steal
captain of his acquaintance on the point To tell me that it still can feel.
of sailing to New York, and from whom Oh! what delights, what pleasant hours he received an invitation to accompany
In which all joys were wont to blend, him. This he accepted, taking care, Have faded now and all Hope's flowers Have withered with my youthful friend.
however, to inform his wife of it, which he
did in these terms:Thou feel'st no pain within the tomb'Tis theirs alone who weep thy doom.
“ Dear Wife, Long wilt thou be the cherished theme
I am going to America. Of all their fondness--all their praise ;
Yours truly," In daily thought and nightly dream, In crowded halls and lonely ways;
Her answer was not at all inferior And they will hallow every scene
either in laconism or tenderness :Where thou in joyous youth hast been. Theirs is the grief that cannot die,
“Dear Husband, And in their heart will be the strife
A pleasant voyage. That must remain with memory,
Yours, &c." Uncancelled from the book of life. Their breasts will be the mournful urns
There are, again, other letters, differing Where sorrow's incense ever burns.
in character from all I have mentioned
fragments saved from the wreck of early But there are other letters, the perusal love- reliques of spirit-buoying hopes of which makes us feel as if reverting remembrancers of joy. They, perchance, from the winter of the present to the remind us that love has set in tears—that spring-time of the past. These are from hopes were cruelly blighted - that our friends whom we have long known and joy is filed for ever. When we look on whose society we still enjoy. There is a them we seem to feel that charm in contrasting the sentiments of their youth with those of a riper age, or,
Can ransom us from sorrow. rather, in tracing the course of their ideas to their full development; for it is
We fancy ourselves the adopted of seldom that the feelings we entertain in
Misery--Care's lone inheritors. The the early part of our lives entirely change bloom has passed away from our lives.*
- they merely expand, as the full-grown tree proceeds from the shoot, or the flower from the bud. We love to turn from the formalities and cold politeness of the world to the “ Dear Tom” or “ Dear
February 15. Day breaks . 5 9
7 2 Dick" at the head of such letters. There
4 58 is something touching about it-something that awakens a friendly warmth in
Twilight ends 6 51
Cloth of gold crocus flowers, with the heart. It is shaking the hand by proxy-a vicarious “good morrow.” I petals of a deep orange-yellow 'inside, have a whole packet of letters from my
and stripes of shining deep reddish-brown
outside. friend G- --, and there is scarcely a dash or a comma in them that is not cha
Snow-drops and crocuses are by this racteristic of the man. Every word bears
time abundant; and with the hellebores, the impress of freedom-the true currente hepaticas, and polyanthuses, contribute calamo stamp. He is the most convivial greatly to enliven the garden. of letter-writers--the heartiest of epistlers. Then there is N -, who always seems
* The Gondola.
In looking over the drawings of Mr. person of Phebe Hassel, a poor woman Chatfield, the artist,* I found a fine full- stated to be 106 years of age. It appears sized portrait of Phebe Hassel, which that she was born in March 1715, and, at that gentleman sketched at Brighton in fifteen, formed a strong attachment to her lifetime, and has obligingly copied for Samuel Golding, a private in the regithe engraving before the reader.
ment called Kirk's Lambs, which was This remarkable female was well known ordered to the West Indies. Sbe deterin Brighton, where she sold fruit at a stall mined to follow her lover, enlisted into the in the street, and, when more than a 5th regiment foot, commanded by general century old, frequently afforded proof, to Pearce, and embarked after him. She any who offended her, of the determined served there five years without discovering spirit which animated her to extraordinary herself to any one. At length they were adventures in youth. The annexed ex- ordered to Gibraltar. She was likewise tract from a private MS. Journal relates at Montserrat, and would have been in an interesting interview with her in her action, but her regiment did not reach the last illness.
place till the battle was decided. Her Brighton, Sep. 22, 1821. I have seen lover was wounded at Gibraltar and sent to-day an extraordinary character in the to Plymouth; she then waited on the ge
neral's lady at Gibraltar, disclosed her
sex, told her story, and was immediately No. 66, Judd Street, Brunswick Square. sent home. On her arrival, Phebe went
to Samuel Golding in the hospital, nursed at Rome, you must do as Rome does." him there, and, when he came out, mar- When she could not distinctly hear what ried and lived with him for twenty years : was said, she raised herself in the bed he had a pension from Chelsea. ---After and thrust her head forward with imGolding's death, she married Hassel, has patient energy. She said, when the king had many children, and has been many saw her, he called her “a jolly old fellow." years a widow.
Her eldest son was a Though blind, she could discern glimsailor with admiral Norris : he afterwards mering light, and I was told would frewent to the East Indies, and, if he is now quently state the time of day by the effect alive, must be nearly seventy years of age. of light.” The rest of her family are dead. At an It was the late king, George IV., who advanced age she earned a scanty liveli- spoke of her as “a jolly old fellow." hood at Brighton by selling apples and Phebe was one of his Brighton favorites, gingerbread on the Marine Parade. he allowed her eighteen pounds a-year,
" I saw this woman to-day in her bed, to and at her death he ordered a stone inwhich she is confined from having lost the scribed to her memory to be placed at use of her limbs. She has even now, old her grave in Brighton church-yard. She and withered as she is, a fine character of was well knowo to all the inhabitants of countenance, and I should judge, from her the town, and by most visitors. Many present appearance, must have had a fine of these testify that she did not always though perhaps a masculine style of head conform to the rules laid down in an old when young. - I have seen many a woman, didactic treatise, “On the Government of at the age of sixty or seventy, look older the Tongue," and that she sometimes than she does under the load of 106 years indulged in unlicensed potations afof human life. Her cheeks are round forded by licensed houses. In truth, and seem firm, though ploughed with Phebe Hassel's manners and mind were many a small wrinkle. Her eyes, though masculine. She had good natural sense their sight is gone, are large and well- and wit, and was what is commonly formed. As soon as it was announced called “a character.” that somebody had come to see her, she broke the silence of her solitary thoughts and spoke. She began in a complaining
February 16. tone, as if the remains of a strong and restless spirit were impatient of the 1754. Feb. 16. Died, at the age of 81, prison of a decaying and weak body. Dr. Richard Mead, the medical rival of Dr. * Other people die and I cannot," she Ratcliffe, and pre-eminently his superior said. Upon exciting the recollection of in manners; for Mead was well-bred and her former days, her energy seemed elegant, and Ratcliffe capricious and surly. roused, and she spoke with emphasis.
Dr. Mead introduced the practice of Her voice was strong for an old person; inoculation for the small-pox, and, to and I could easily believe her when, upon prove its efficacy, caused seven criminals being asked if her sex was not in danger to be inoculated. He was a man of taste, of being detected by her voice, she replied and formed expensive collections of coins, that she always had a strong and manly medals, sculpture, pictures, prints, and voice. She appeared to take a pride in hava drawings, with a fine library of choice ing kept her secret, declaring that she told books, which were sold after his decease. it io no man, woman, or child, during the The catalogue of his pictures, with the time she was in the army;" for you know, prices they produced, 'is in the British Sir, a drunken man and a child always Museum. tell the truth.-But,” said she, “I told my
PHYSICIANS. secret to the ground. I dug a hole that would hold a gallon, and whispered it Montaigne says it was an Egyptian there." While I was with her the flies law, that the physician, for the first three annoyed her extremely: she drove them days, should take charge of his patient at away with a fan, and said they seemed to the patient's own peril; but afterwards at smell her out as one that was going to the his own. He mentions that, in his time, grave. She showed me a wound she had physicians gave their pills in odd numbers, received in her elbow by a bayonet. She appointed remarkable days in the year for lamented the error of her former ways, taking medicine, gathered their simples at but excused it by saying, " when you are certain hours, assumed austere, and eren
severe looks, and prescribed, among their
February 18. choice drugs, the left foot of a tortoise, the liver of a mole, and blood drawn from
1546. Feb. 18. Martin Luther died, under the wing of a wbite pigeon.
at the age of 63. His life is the history of the age in which he lived; for his career
shook the papacy, and inflamed every February 16. Day breaks 5 7
state in Europe. The date of his decease Sup rises
is mentioned, merely to introduce a passets
5 0 sage concerning the immutability of truth, Twilight ends 6 53
which should be for ever kept in the The leaves of daffodils, narcissi, and memory, as “ a nail in a sure place.”other plants that blow next month, appear
“ The important point which Luther inabove ground.
cessantly labored to establish was, the right of private judgment in matters of
faith. To the defence of this proposition, February 17.
he was at all times ready to devote his 1758. Feb. 17. Died, at Bristol, aged learning, his talents, his repose, his cha78, John Watkins, commonly called racter, and his life; and the great and Black John. He had supported himself imperishable merit of this reformer conby begging, and frequently lodged at
sists in his having demonstrated it by such night in a glass-house, although he had a
arguments as neither the efforts of his room at a house in Temple Street, where,
adversaries, nor his own subsequent after his death, was found upwards of two conduct, have been able either to refute hundred weight of halfpence and silver,
or invalidate."* besides a quantity of gold, which he had amassed as a public beggar. He came 1639. Feb. 18. Died, at 50 years of age, from a respectable family in Gloucester- Thomas Carew, a distinguished poet. shire, and was said to have been heir to a
He was educated at Corpus Christi Colconsiderable estate, but, the possession of lege, Oxford; afterwards greatly improved it being denied to him, he vowed he would himself by travel, and Charles I. appointed never shave till he enjoyed it, and kept him gentleman of the privy chamber, and bis promise to the day of his death. It
sewer in ordinary. He lived in intimacy was easier to keep such a vow, than the with most of the poets and wits of his resolution of that spendthrift, who, after day, particularly with Jonson, Donne, dissipating his paternal estate, resolved, and Suckling. One of his poems immein the depth of poverty, to regain it; and, diately follows, as a specimen of his by unaided efforts of industry, accomplished his purpose. The story is in Mr.
PERSUASIONS TO LOVE. Foster's essay "On decision of character," from which an irresolute person may
Think not, 'cause men fattering say, derive large profit.
Y'are fresh as Aprill, sweet as May,
Bright as is the morning-starre, A person of undecisive character won
That you are so; or, though you are, ders how all the embarrassments in the
Be not therefore proud, and deeme
All men unworthy your esteeme : world happened to meet exactly in his
Nor let britile beauty make way. He thinks what a determined course
You your wiser thoughts forsake; he would have run, if his talents, his For that lovely face will faile; health, his age, had been different : thus
Beauty's sweet, but beauty's fraile,-
'Tis gone while we but say 'tis here.
Whose every hair a soul doth bind,
Will change their abroun hue, and grow
White with cold as winter's snow,
That eye, which now is Cupid's nest, sets.
Will prove his grave, and all the rest Twilight ends 6 55 The bee begins to appear abroad when mild.
* Roscoe's Lco X., 4to, iv. 47.
Will follow; in the cheek, chin, nose, he presided in the King's Bench. In the Nor lilly shall be found, nor rose ;
Banbury election case he told the House And what will then become of all
of Peers that they ought to respect the Those whom now you servants call ? law which had made them so great, and Like swallows, when your summer's done
that he should disregard their decisions. They'le fly, and seek some warmer sun.
When the speaker of the House of ComThen wisely choose one to your friend Whose love may (when your beautics end)
mons, with a select number of members, Remain still firm; be provident,
went in person to the Court of King's And think, before the summer's spent,
Bench to demand his reasons, he anOf following winter; like the ant,
swered, “I sit here to administer justice; In plenty hoard for time of scant.
if you had the whole House of Commons For when the storms of time have mov'd in your belly, I should disregard you; and, Waves on that cheeke which was belov'd; if you do not immediately retire, I will When a fair lady's face is pin’d,
commit you, Mr. Speaker, and those with The yellow spread where red once shin'd; you." Neither his compeers, nor the When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave houses of parliament separately or colher,
lectively, could intimidate him, and Queen Love may return, but lovers never. O love me, then, and now begin it,
Anne was compelled to dissolve the parLet us not lose this present minute ;
liament to get rid of the question. On a For time and age will worke that wracke,
mob assembling before a crimping house, Which time nor age shall nere call back.
in Holborn, the guards were called out: The snake each yeare fresh skin resumes,
“Suppose,” said he," the populace will And eagles change their aged plumes ; not disperse, what will you do?” “Fire The, faded rose each spring receives on them,” replied an officer, “as we have A fresh red tincture on her leaves :
orders." "Have you so ! then take no. But, if your beauties once decay,
tice that if one man is killed, and you You never know a second May.
are tried before me, I will take care that Oh then, be wise, and, whilst your season
every soldier of your party is hanged.” Affords you days for sport, do reason ;
Assembling his tipstaves, and a few conSpend not in vaine your life's short houre, But crop in time your beauties' flower,
stables, he explained to the mob the imWhich will away, and doth together
propriety of their conduct; promised Both bud and fade, both blow and wither.
that justice should be done; and the multitude dispersed. A poor decrepid old woman, charged with witchcraft, was
on her trial before him: “ she uses a February 18. Day breaks 5
spell," said the witness.
“ Let me see Sun rises
6 56 sets
it.”. A scrap of parchment was handed
to him. Twilight ends
“How came you by this ?"
6 57 “ February fill dyke,” an old proverb,
“A young gentleman, my lord, gave it is usually verified about this time, by
me, lo cure my daughter's ague." “Did
it cure her?" . O yes, my lord, and many frequent rains, and full streaming ditches.
others." “ I am glad of it.-Gentlemen of the Jury, when I was young and
thoughtless, and out of money, I, and February 19.
some companions as unthinking as my
self, went to this woman's house, then a In February, 1685-6, Sir John Holt, public one; we had no money to pay our who had been appointed recorder of reckoning; I hit upon a stratagem to get London the year before, was knighted by off scot free. On seeing her daughter ill, king James II., and made king's sergeant I pretended I had a spell to cure her; I in 1686, and resigned his recordership in wrote the classic line you see; so that if April, 1687. He was one of the men of any one is punishable it is me, not the the robe chosen by the peers at St. poor woman the prisoner.” She was acJames's to assist them in drawing up the quitted by the jury and rewarded by the conditions on which William III. was chief justice. He died of a lingering admitted to the throne, and in April, illness, March 10, 1710-1, aged 67; and 1689, was raised to the high office of lord was buried in the church of Redgrave, in chief justice of England. Law and jus- Suffolk. tice were effectually admir.istered when