of the æra of 1782, when the substantiality of the furniture and of the table were as like the plain honest feelings of the people as the tastier and flimsier fittings of our present apartments and the kickshaw fare of our genteel entertainments are similar to the heartless invitations and manners of modern society.

66

There was something very picturesque and pleasant, allow me to say, in the full made broad-cloth coat, with its full buttoned cuff and ample skirts, and the bushy or curled wig of an old gentleman; and in the brocaded hoop-gown and deep ruffles, and the lappets and laced mob cap of an old gentlewoman: aye, and in their good-humored sedateness and quiet stateliness too. The stout gold-headed cane of the one, and the long ivoryheaded ebony walking-stick, sometimes umbrellaed, of the other, were worth a whole ocean of switches and parasols jaunty things, some of them useful in their way, but wholly unknown and unthought of in those honest and comfortable times. 66 "Why," say you, more honest and comfortable times?" I will tell you. People were then less sophisticated; every one knew and kept his own proper sphere and station: the maxim "custom to whom custom was due, honor to whom honor." No one approached so familiarly towards another that stood before, or rather above him, as to tread down the heel of his neighbour's shoe. The gentleman made his politest bow to the gentleman on meeting him; the tradesman kindly saluted the tradesman in passing; the common people of both sexes had ever something to say civil or cheerful to one another; and no lad would pass by his elder or superior without touching his hat, or making a respectful bow to him: nor were the little lasses forgetful of their pleasing smiles and reverential curtsies.

was

Besides, in those days, provisions of all kinds, beef, veal, mutton, and pork, were to be bought at threepence, and the primest pieces of meat at fourpence a pound, a goose for two shillings or half a crown, ducks and fowls at eighteen pence the couple, fresh butter at five pence a pound, and boat loads and cart loads of all sorts of fish (from Starcross and Torbay). Oh! if they could have known the give-away prices they were to be sold for, they would have wept themselves to salt water again. And these good things were washed down too with prime cyder

at a guinea only the hogshead. Money was as plentiful as hops, and no one complained, for no one wanted.

Exeter, dear Exeter! thou art spread out as a map to my mind's eye-where shall I begin? Thy long High Street (and in describing that I am nearly portraying most of thy other thoroughfares), thy long High Street, I say again, with its ancient gateways, rich with statues and battlements (but now removed and obliterated), its roomy and extensive oldfashioned houses, with their gable ends, their grotesque and fancifully ornamented fronts, with their long and bowed out windows extending the whole breadth of the building, with their lozenged-paned leaded casements, and each higher floor projecting out one above the other, that from the near approximation of the upper stories, many opposite neighbours without much effort might cordially shake hands with each other-this was the appearance fifty years ago of parts of Exeter High Street, where, on the three weekly market days, all the good things of the farm, the orchard, and the dairy were wont to be spread out in double rows, from one end of it to the other; and all, all, and each and every article and morsel were bought up and carried home, and ere the next market day, roasted, baked, fried, broiled, boiled, or stewed, served up and eaten, to the ample satisfaction and sustenance of thy honest good-hearted citizens, their friends, and visitors.

Such were the inhabitants: and such the abundant providance, that the surrounding country supplied for bodily wants and necessities: And this fulness of supply and enjoyment no doubt mainly tended to the establishment and preservation of genuine sociality, good manners, and good humor. The broad cloth large coats, and brocaded hoop gowns, the goodly wigs, and the laced mob caps, the precious metal-headed canes, and the ladies' tall walking-sticks, have disappeared with the portly well-behaved gentlemen, and the comely cheerful gentlewomen, the obliging tradespeople, and the well-behaved boys and girls. Most of these kind-hearted creatures are gone, and so I fear is much of the means of cheap marketing, which I have already hinted at as a primary cause of honesty of character, good behaviour, and good humor. The supply with which a kind providence has so blessed Devonia's fertile hills and vales I doubt not is at this

day as fully abundant; yet, I fear me, is to be purchased only at treble the prices of the happy old days I have been describing.

These good old times, I say, I have no doubt had corresponding effects on the temper as well as on the manners of the people. Independence and comfortable circumstances will impart elasticity of spirits and feelings of benevolence. A tradesman's child is usually better tempered and better behaved than a poor man's child; and a gentleman's son has usually more civility of manners than either. Comfort prompts to cleanliness, and cleanliness tends to engender selfrespect and a laborer's child with plentiful meals, and a cleanly and comfortable home, will be civil and respectful.

Fifty years ago was the golden age for wigmakers. It was a goodly and a pleasant sight to behold on a gala-day the members of the ancient and loyal corporation of Exeter in grand procession preceded by the town cryer, the city waits, the trades' companies in their bombazeen gowns, with their pennons and banners displayed, and the mayor, recorder, and aldermen, in their scarlet furred robes, every soul of them looking gravely and worshipful in their fullbottomed bushy wigs. Indeed, I am of opinion, with the honest barber, that there have been neither cheap, nor good, nor truly honest times in England since wigs went out of fashion; and that they are the only things that effectually distinguish man from the monkey tribe. I never have a chubby nor an angular face with only a few stray hairs upon its caput popped under my nose, but I am reminded of the vacant grinning visage, and sleek poll of an old baboon.

"And who," say you, "6 were these honest, good humored, kind-hearted people? What were they? You have been speaking of gentlemen and tradesmen, and common people, as if they were all of one family; and somehow or other closely akin to one another!" Why, I answer, they were, in the first or higher grade, gentlemen and ladies of small but independent fortune; merchants trading largely to the Mediterranean; substantial clothing manufacturers (for Exeter then had, and most likely now has, a large share in the manufacturing of serges,

kerseys, &c.*;) the heads of the customhouse and excise departments; naval and military officers retired from the service; the dignitaries of the cathedral, and the parochial clergy (nineteen of them 1 think) and their families. And never must be forgotten, when speaking of Exeter, its harmonious Jackson, the celebrated musical composer and organist of the cathedral church; and its classic Downman; and its physicians, the doctors Glasse and Oakes, clad in their full-bottomed wigs and ample scarlet roquelaurs. Nor can I here omit mentioning those two very contrasting natives of gay France, the little corpulent worthy, Louis (the father of the gallant admiral and baronet), the very genius of good breeding and good humor, who instructed with all the grace and agility of a Destrayis or a Vestris, half the young people of Isca, in the varieties of the sprightly danse; and (though more properly assorting with another class of citizens) the volatile and vrai rassemble caricatura of his Gascon countrymen, the tall, lean, martial bearing, Mons. Peter Herbert, the celebrated teacher of the lungue françois, and of the noble science of attack and defence, who would throw you off your guard, and jerk your foil over your head, whilst, with the piercing glance of his keen eye, he would fascinate you like a basilisk. In the second grade we may reckon some retired tradesmen and commanders of merchant vessels, the more opulent grocers, mercers, apothecaries, druggists, builders, and booksellers. Of these last mentioned citizens let me not omit one I well remember (then an octagenarian), and who was personally or nominally known to every lettered man in the kingdom, old Andrew Brice; nor the more respectable bibliopolists, little Billy Grigg (with his yellow-white wig), Thorne, Sweetland, and Trueman

[The serge and kersey manufactures have disappeared from Exeter. The demand gradually ceased, the Exeter manufacturing branches knew not why, nor went to London to inquire. They lost their trade they knew not how till all was gone, and then they discovered, by the news being brought to them, that the serges and kerseys, which from long usage they imagined they had a prescriptive right to make, were manufactured at a cheaper rate in Lancashire and Yorkshire. -W. H.]

The ancient name of Exeter.

(each of whom were stocked with capacious libraries of old and valuable books), and Shirley Woolmer (recently deceased), the antiquary and mineralogist of the county; and that caterer of nouvellettes in the college cloister, the erudite Maister Dyer, the collector of a circulating library, the choicest, and perhaps the most extensive, of any in the whole kingdom, except in the metropolis. Finally must be noticed that industrious grade who, where there is plenty of employment, and where cheap rent and cheap provisions are to be met with, would be great fools if they were not as kind-hearted and goodhumoured, and it would be nothing to their credit if they were not as well-behaved, in a certain degree, as their betters. "Well! if you have done describing the people, pray let us hear something nore about the place that seems to cling so kindly to your youthful remembrance.' Why, then, there is the Northenhay, and Southernhay, the Friar's walk, the river Exe going up to Cowley bridge, the Hayne banks (below the city)-all pleasant walks and places. There is the cathedral, with its noted great bell, its grand organ (the largest in England), its two fine old massive Gothic towers, its venerable western front covered with niches, filled with statues, its noble window of stained glass displaying the armorial bearings of all the first families in the county; and its close, with its neat shaded gravel'd walks, fill'd then, as, I doubt not, now, with as graceful forms and bright eyes as

[To" Maister Dyer," the eminent bookseller of Exeter, succeeded his son, who inherited his father's books and his father's

affection for them. Young "maister Dyer" added largely to the paternal collections; he courted, beyond all price, rare and curious books, and feared to part with them for love or money. Mr Carter, a lover of antiquities, an excellent draftsman of antiquarian and topographical subjects, a highly ingenious mechanic, and a most worthy and honorable man, joined Mr. Dyer, jun., in the bookselling business. A few years ago I saw their enormous stock en masse. Their collection of theology was astonishing; it was stacked on manifold shelves to the angle point of the gable of their huge upper warehouse. Every book was in its place in the order of the cata'ogue they were then printing, of which I then saw several proof sheets. The work proceeded slowly, for Mr. Dyer and his books were part and parcel of each other, and the thought of parting with them was as iron entering into Lis soul.-W. H.J

man can wish to behold. Who can forget, that ever once saw, Miss Fryer, who was afterwards the beautiful Lady Collier, Miss J, Miss S, Miss B-, and a hundred others, who still survive in my remembrance, and that of every one living, who ever had the pleasure of once seeing them? Indeed! I do not know where there are so many healthy, and handsome, and happy, and innocent, forms and faces to be met with together, as at a Devonshire fair or revel.

“Well! you have mentioned Northernhay, what sort of a place is that?" Why, Northernhay, vulgo Norney, is one of the most agreeable walks in England: it skirts the city on the side it takes its name from, and borders on the old Roman castle of Rougemont, of which, however, one solitary, picturesque, massive, ivycovered tower alone remains, and the old battlemented walls of the city, grand in ruin. This finely shaded walk of considerable length was always, in fine weather, crowded with genteel company. It overlooks a deep wooded ravine, beyond which is a goodly champaign prospect, with the suburb of St. Davids; its neat white-washed houses covering the climb of the hill, and its rural country-looking church crowning the summit. Glimpses of the river Exe may also be obtained from certain parts of this elevation.

Southernhay, vulgo Soudney, on the south side of the city, covered now, as I am told, with respectable buildings, was, in the good old times I am speaking of, an oblong square field, laid out, too, with gravel'd walks round its borders. Here was used to be played by the young men all sorts of rural games, and it was also the ordinary exercising ground of the military. But its proudest time was midsummer, or Glove Fair, which was holden for a fortnight, with all the festive mirth, noise, amusement, and holiday accompaniments, of other large fairs. This fair was opened or proclaimed by the corporation in grand procession, with music and banner-carrying, and an enormously large leather glove, on a high pole, which was placed in the fair, and kept its station there till its conclusion, in memorial of a glove given by King John, on his visiting this city, as a token of the charter he granted for the holdign of his fair.

The Friar's walk,on a rising ground above the river Exe, has a more extensive and varied view. It was, at the time I am speak

ing of,a tenter field,having racks for stretching and drying the manufactures of the city, the broad-cloths, which, being chiefly of blue and scarlet colours, and the ground a sloping, gave rather a gay and flaming ppearance to Exeter, on approaching it from the westward. This ground, I learn, has been builded upon, and has now a grand terrace of uniformly built houses, occupying the immediate site of what was more particularly called the walk, and commanding a view of the Exe flowing beneath, for a few miles upwards, and for about ten miles downwards to the river's junction with the sea; with a view of the watering towns of Exmouth and Starcross, on either side of the estuary, and the grounds and woods of Powderham castle; also Halldown, an extensive range of mountain land about seven miles off; the villages and churches of Powderham, Kenton, and Alphington; the church and suburbs of St. Thomas; the neat stone balustraded bridge that unites them to the city; and some handsome villas picturesquely situated at Exwick, at about two miles distance from this spot.

The Hayne banks-alongside the canal that brings up vessels from Topsham to the city quay-is a delightful walk, well gravelled, and nearly straight for about ten miles, all the way to Starcross. Besides obtaining a less elevated view of the scenery from Friar's walk, you pass by, on the right hand, a forest of orchards, covered in summer with blossoms, or loaded in autumn, with ruddy fruit. On the left hand lies the sea port town of Topsham, with its harbour of large merchant vessels. On returning from Starcross is a fine view of the city of Exeter, surmounted by its beautifully seated and noble cathedral.

Exeter had then (1782) a fine old guildhall, handsome county courts, where the assizes are holden, a mayoralty or banqueting-house, a famed grammarschool, a county infirmary, a handsome hotel and assembly rooms, nineteen parish churches (Lilliputian ones indeed, and seemingly built for Lilliputians) and a theatre, with a highly respectable company of performers. There were, at the time I am speaking of, Henderson, and Hughes, and Edwin, and Mrs. Edwin, and Whitfield, and Tom Blanchard, and the pretty Mrs. Ward, whose Hamlet, and Diggory, and Lingo, and Cowslip, and Joseph Surface, and Lubin, and

pretty, pretty, mad Ophelia, were seldom equalled, and can never, never be sur passed. There was also a gymnasium, oi place for equestrian performances, somewhat similar to Astley's in London, but on a very inferior scale of performance indeed. To these, since then, have been added a county jail, a county bride well, and barracks for cavalry-all, witho doubt, unhappily, requisite additions, yet subtracting from the beauty of the view from the Northernhay.

Last remembered, though not least endeared to memory, fair Exeter, are thy strawberries and clotted cream - thy sweet junkets (a delightful admixture of curds, and sugar, and nutmeg, and port wine)-the fine peal of thy twelve cathedral bells-the grand and powerful tones of its magnificent organ, its singularly beautiful episcopal throne-thy solemn Christmas waits--thy midnight carols, so sweetly sung by a hundred voices, by the light of twice as many tapers-and the many, many happy companionships, and the pleasant walks and excursions we have taken together by the banks of thy river, and over thy upland hills, and through thy ever-verdant vales. Such wert thou, Exeter, fifty years ago! July 25, 1831.

A BED-TIME CHARM.

R. T.

Ady, in his "Candle in the Dark." 4to. 1655, tells of an old woman he knew in Essex, who had lived also in queen Mary's time, and thence learned many popish charms, one of which was this: every night when she lay down to sleep she charmed her bed saying:

Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,
The bed be blest that I lye on :

and this would she repeat three times, reposing great confidence therein, because (she said) she had been taught it, when she was a young maid, by the churchmen of those times.

Mr. W. Delamotte jun. communicated the drawing for this engraving, from a sketch taken on the spot by a lady. It represents the house in which lord Byron died at Missolonghi. The apartment in which he expired is at the top on the left, distinguisned by an awning and balcony in front of the window. This nobleman's career may be likened to that of a wintry sun, which shines between storms, and sets suddenly in gloom.

In the next column is a very obliging communication relating to the accompanying Latin translations-one of them from apoem by lord Byron-printed on the following page.

Rhime, in Latin verse, is a modern invention. In Mr. Turner's History of the Anglo-saxons there is much respecting the period of its origin.

Macaronic Poetry is said to have been first written by Theophilus Folengi, who lived about 1520- Fosbroke.

"MONKISH POEMS."

[To Mr. Hone.]

Fampstead Heath, 1 July, 1831. Sir,-A late perusal of some Monkish poems, together with sir Alex. Croke's interesting essay on the subject, has induced me to offer my mites (albeit, not of current coin of the realm) to the Editor of the Year Book,-a poor return, i'faith, for months of amusement: other friends, however, may contribute of their abundance; I can, but testify my good will.

I have merely to add that, contrary to the practice of a late elegant writer of macaronics, I have invariably used accented as rhyming syllables. Thus only, as it strikes me, can the euphony of these trifles be secured. I have added th English, though familiar to all, nerel for facility of comparison.

Most obediently yours,

B. I. W