DEVOTED TO POLITE LITERATURE, SUCH AS MORAL AND SENTIMENTAL TALES, BIOGRAPHY, TRAVELING SKETCHES, POETRY, AMUSING MISCELLANY, ANECDOTES, &c.

VOL. XI.-[II. NEW SERIES.]

SELECT TALES.

From the Saturday Evening Post.
Julia Gray,

OR THE ORPHAN.

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

NEVER were two men much less like each other, than were two very friendly neighbors, Solomon Rayfield, and Patrick O'Doyle. In temper and in creed, these two were opposites; Solomon a Calvinist, and Patrick a Catholic, and both deemed their respective churches the very standard of truth. Solommon most prolific of tongue, and abundant in quotation from his name-sake. Patrick, who is to figure in our veracious history, moulded to unbending stiffness of language and belief, came young, from The sweetest Isle of the Ocean; and if the assertion could not be proven, I would never de s'ate a fact so incredible, Patrick O'Doyle was a man sententious of speech.

With adjoining fences, extended the two very neat and well cultivated farms of Rayfield and O'Doyle, both rising by rather a bold sweep from the banks of Chartier creek, a fine, clear, but noisy stream. Rayfield, with his notable wife Ruth, or Ruthy, as he called her, and their little son and daughter, were the contented inmates of one cottage, whilst Patrick O'Doyle, who gruffly muttered often between his teeth, Never be denied again,' inhabited alone, as to wife and children, a very comfortable cabin.

stood equal, and none higher, in his country,
than did Solomon Rayfield; who to the duties
of a Justice, which were forced upon him,
had to share pretty nearly every vexatious
arbitration over the whole vicinity. Being of
the same church and congregation, Solomon
Rayfield and James Gray were brought into
the same temple weekly, and their public
duties as magistrates, and other et ceteras,
brought them very frequently into contact, in
other days of the week; yet between these
men, friendship did not, nor could not exist.
James Gray and his wife, decidedly the most
wealthy couple in the two counties, were
probably the most miserable pair in either,
and why? Because, gentle reader, they were
exactly alike in temper; and had long ago
ceased to agree in any but two things, and
these were to hate each other, and love
money.

Divines of all creeds, and philosophers of
all schools, have, on one sect, formada
common conclusion; and th conclusion is,
that i
not always

NO. 9.

other and the minister, once every week: Into this temple, not seldom, sat down also, Patrick O'Doyle, though sometimes saying playfully to his friend Rayfield, A bee cau find honey from the thorn flower.'

Of all the sweet flowers ever blooming out Chartier, none other ever bloomed more lovely than Julia Gray. Lovely in childhood, she was not in any respect A beauty in promise,' but every one who saw the little budding sprightly brunette, except her parents, felt, and many rapturously exclaimed, How Lovely!

Mary Layton, afterwards Mary Gray, the, first wife of James Gray, and the mother of Julia, deserved a better fate than to be united to such a man, even in his best days, and survived by only a few weeks the birth of her child; falling a victim to that worst of cruelty to a foud wife-neglect. Jane Gray, once the spoiled dependent of his first, became his second wife, and murdered Mary. James Gray, and su terror she excited, combin evils to unsettle a brain harassed thus by actual, and in his apprehension, impending misery.

succ

dwell together. Now, though I am neither a
divine nor a philosopher, but simply a so-
journer on earth, walking over it to see what
I can see, I have ventured another conclusion;
that is, that wealth is not happiness, but one
James and Mary Gray, were only two of
of the elements of happiness. While passing
along the vale of life, over which sunshine the many Rose-destroyers, and Thorn-
and storm alternately prevail, I have found searchers, which it has been my fortune to
kindness of heart the only element insepara-meet with, between the mouths of the Sabine
ble from happiness, and have found that same and Passamaquoddy, and only two of the
element, as independent of condition, as goldmany who took ten times more pains to
is of the rubbish in which that precious metal
is found.

embitter their lives, than would have been
necessary to have made them the delight of
No mai
each other and of their neighbors
or woman was ever yet disappointed in the
aim of making themselves hated, and this
couple succeeded just in proportion to their
respective talents: James, to be passably,
and Jane, to be supremely hated. Solomon
Rayfield, who never dealt in epithets of
censure, only sighed when his nearest neigh-
bors were named; but Patrick O'Doyle,
The Rev. John Dancey, the spiritual guide though so sparing of words, and warm of
of the Rayfield and Gray families, was the heart, seldom named either husband or wife,
pastor of a congregation, much more remark-without finishing by a Bud luck to them.'
able for the honesty of their hearts, and the
sincerity of their devotion, than for the polish
of their manners. Many long years did the
minister and his flock meet in harmony
weekly. The only complaint against their
pastor, made by any one of these pioneers of
the wilds of Chartier, was, that he was rather
lavish of Glud Tidings,' and trusted too
little to their memories. This was, however,
a mere speck on the sum of love and respect,
and glad were the good people to meet each

Of the gold in the human bosom, Solomon Facing the Rayfield and O'Doyle farms. Rayfield had his full share, and his neighbor rose another far more extensive than both James Gray, and Mrs. Gray his wife, not put together. Rising also, by a fine acclivity enough to reward its extraction. Though from the Chartier, and spread like a painting, members of the same church, between two intentionally so disposed, swept the farm of such men friendship could not exist, and James Gray, in full view from the front even good neighborship was performed on doors and windows of Rayfield cottage.- one side, from a sense of duty, and on the James Gray, and Jane, his wife, had brought other, by a sense of interest. with them to Chartier, one most engaging child, a girl, Julia by name, the daughter of her father's first wife; and they brought also, a much larger amount of money, than generally enters into the baggage of emigrants, and a prodigiously swelled sum of aristocratic consequence. The money procured the farm, and its fine set of merchant mills, from a man, who, to use a common proverb, Peeled an egg for another to eat; and the patrician manners ensured respect and hatred from their less wealthy neighbors.

For good, sound, plain, and discerning common sense, and for sterling integrity, few

6

All those

It will be only strange to those who have not reflected on the features of human socicty, what I am now ready to assert. feelings of disgust against the wealthy Grays, very seldom appeared on the surface. In the ordinary and extraordinary walks of life, all outward things were on the Gray farmi clothed just as on other farms; and even the sarcastic O'Doyle, who was like many other pioneers, a little of every trade, was very often called to do jobs at Gray's: went there,

did the job, got his wages, and returned to his cabin, just as he did for Solomon Rayfield, and fifty others. Stop! my young readers, and before you call this hypocrisy, wait until forty years more have passed over your head, and ten to one, but you will then call it prudence. I can tell you, between friends, that were not the affairs of the world thus conducted, the earth would be, as far as man is concerned, one great scene of discord.

To a close observer there appeared nothing of hard hearted atrocity in the character of James Gray, but he loved money, and pursued money for itself, and neglected every thing else; and amongst the rest, his own child. With a view to great profit, which was indeed in the end realized, this man was induced, much to the astonishment of even the man who led him into the engagement, to become security to a considerable amount. His intellects never of high order where his property was concerned, James Gray, the moment his name was on paper became alarmed; the sweets of sound and refreshing sleep fled his pillow, and each day and night fear increased its phantoms, until James Gray added one more name to the list of men whose minds sink to actual insanity, from the apprehension of what, in a majority of cases, never happens. At the age of forty, in ruins, was seen sitting in utter fatuity, bewailing his loss, a man who had at that time, perhaps no compeer in wealth in all western Pennsylvania. His family, and the world generally with its concerns, faded from his view, one desolating fancy remaining to render his life a terrific dream. The stepmother and protector of little Julia, we have already sketched and need not add, that

and

BEING. That hynn had rose and ceased in
the Meeting House of John Dancey, and the
Pastor himself, had read :

And I find more bitter than Death, the
woman whose heart is snares and nets, and
her hands as bands: whoso pleaseth God,
shall escape from her; but the sinner shall
be taken by her.' Ecclsts. vii. 26.

where a sight might appear, too horrible for human courage to behold. The spot, dark, tangled and lonely from nature, became deserted and desolate. Long and mournfully was pronounced Gray's Grave.'

Man ought not to war with the dead,' is one of those humane injunctions not in every case easy to obey. The harsh feelings of In true singleness of heart the preacher man against James Gray, would have yielded, took his text, in a mystical sense, intending however, to the common law of forgetfulby The Woman,' the evil propensities of the ness, had not his child remained to revive human heart, but there was one hearer who every bitter reflection on his memory.— received the words literally. This was Mrs. Whatever, not of kindness, for that she never Gray, and the words, The woman whose enjoyed, but mitigation of hatred, Julia had heart is snares,' was no sooner pronounced, experienced on the part of her step-mother than she had to encounter every eye in the during the life of her father, now vanished; Meeting House, who could get a sight of her, and this fine child, who inherited the angelic and had her ears greeted by many a heartfelt disposition, and was a living miniature of her groan. How she felt, was never known by departed mother, had for three years to man, for the reverend gentleman had just endure unremitting torture. Thus, unclothcommenced the division of his subject into ed, except in rags, unfed, except on the five heads, with a conclusion, and the mem- refuse of a kitchen, and compelled to sleep, bers of his congregation were adjusting their if sleep she could, amid straw and filth, passeats and their patience for a long sitting, sed the years of a child entitled to a rich when priest and laity were electrified, as in inheritance, the property of her mother. rushed Patrick O'Doyle, his naturally ex- On the very day of his burial, the man for pressive features strongly agitated, and with-whom Gray had been security, came forward out apology or interlude, observed very and fully satisfied all present, that his engagedeliberately, I have found him.' ments were fully provided for. And as soon as legal means were also provided, to give him a discharge, this man made complete settlement with, and considerably enlarged

on

Who he had found was surmised at once by all present, and as they rose from their seats, the minister merely demanded, Where?' and O'Doyle as sententiously the estate. replied, In the Mill Dam.' The service What is every body's business is no one's was at an end for that day, as all the congre- business,' is another saying, of much more gation hurried after Patrick O'Doyle. The general application, than that death operates body was removed to shore, and as the as a treaty of peace between the dead and Coroner of the county was accidentally pre-living. It was every-day rendered more and sent, an immediate inquest was held, one more obvious, that Julia ought to be taken member of which was the Rev. John Dancey, out of the hands of her persecutor. Pity is orphan.dslr lomon Rayfield. a natural feeling, and when it leads to relief, It was one once of violate their real convictions from any mis-appeared, in despite of any commisseration terren waste of sympathy. Julia Gray, taken delicacy. The insanity of James Gray felt in her favor, to be destined to rise to had been too apparent for doubt, and when maturity destitute of education, and moral the humane heart of Mr. Dancey, was power-culture, but from this state of thraldom she fully affected, his language was only short of seemed at once snatched by a still more inspiration. His common prolixity disap-dreadful fate. One evening late in autumu, peared, and in the case before us, a short she had been more than usually beaten, and address wrung the heart of every hearer. driven, bruised and bitterly weeping, to her The utter worthlessness of wealth, as an pallet of straw. END, and not as a MEANS, seemed to come to their souls as from the lips of Inspiration. And were not indeed the words the expression of Inspiration?

he mind of James Gray which the meitbers were not compelled to an almost divine feeling; but pity is too often

wanderings. From childish apathy or less indolence, frenzy succeeded. His range was now the tangled woods, where, with curses loud and fearful,|| and screams too dreadful for human ear, the very wild animals of the forest, and the casual being of his own species who met him in his walks, alike fled his presence.

Nature could not long support such a condition of existence, and the unearthly maledictions of James Gray, became silent. Where is he?' demanded one neighbor of another;-none could answer. To do justice to his unworthy wife, in the case of her husband, she added not hypocrisy to want of feeling, and was amongst the last to ask, and the most indifferent to answer, Where is

he
That question must be a very stirring one,
which continues to interest any portion of
the great world through one whole week,
and taking their way towards oblivion, the
name and fate of James Gray, had pretty
nearly floated out of the little fraction of the
world watered by Chartier, by the next
Sunday morning after he had been seen by
several persons. Sunday morning, particu-
larly in summer, is in a country place, where
friends have but one place of general meeting,
a most important little era. To those not
fashioned to city manners, let their individ-
ual belief be what it may, the sight must be
deeply interesting, to see old and young, in
decent dress, coming together in peace and
harmony, free from toil, and with one voice
chanting a hymn to the AUTHOR OF ALL

Julia was there. Every one about the farm was roused, and the alarm that Julia Gray was missing, soon spread over the neighborhood, but all search was in vain—not a trace of the lost girl was to be found.

Gray, for the first time, failed to rouse the The next morning the shrill voice of Jane trembling Julia. Call after call obtained no response, and the irritated step-mother rushNot all the influence, however, of Mr.ed into the kitchen venting threats,--but no Dancey, Solomon Rayfield and one or two more, could procure for the remains of Gray a resting place, in what in common custom had been called his burying ground. Here a cord was touched which sounded harshly in its vibrations. 'His soul is in the hands of his GoD, with that we dare not, we wish not to meddle,' said the elders and the far greater part of the congregation ratified the decision, But let him rest in what he called his own land.'.

In land once his own, and in a deep and wooded vale, not far distant from, but out of sight of all human habitation, was placed with sad, not sorrowful solemnity, the corpse of James Gray. Much of superstition then lurked, and some yet lurks along Chartier, and soon from Gray's Grave,' according to report, issued sound at eve, which drove more than the strolling boy far away from where the chilled imagination could give terrible meaning to the echoing winds; and

for once in her life, every effort in favor of
The not idly terrified Jane Gray, made,
humanity, whilst her own danger became
every moment more eminent.
first whispered, was soon audibly, and long
'Murder,'
before night, loudly sounded in her ear, and
the enraged inhabitants were only calmed by
her arrest.

violently aroused passions, when this woman
In this moment of excessive agitation, and
changing a comfortable home for a prison,
and crushed by the wrath of her fellow
creatures, the conduct of the Rayfield family
and their next neighbor, Patrick O'Doyle,
excited no small astonishment. In her ex-
tremity, Jane Gray found no friends, but she
found, where, and like all avaricious men,

timid to extreme, she least expected, two men, and one of these a very influential inan, who persisted in the opinion that she was innocent of the alleged murder.

to conceive life to be held under any other more dreadful tenure. Existence is in such cases a lingering death, and such was the case of Mrs. Jane Gray. It is true, the Only those who have observed society with dews and rains of Heaven fell upon her fields. a scrutinizing eye, can ever perceive the as upon the fields of others; the sun shone singular and often very deep moral influences, and the winds blew as genial upon her fields, operating on trials of life and death. Her as upon the fields of others,-her harvests, true position Jane Gray could not under-her orchards, and her stock, were no more stand, but she felt, and deeply felt her danger. liable to blight, mildew, or disease, than were. In herself or in retrospect of her life no those of her neighbors. To her well conconsolation offered, and in society, except structed and well managed mills, the adjacent those purchased by her money, one man inhabitants brought their grain. only, Solomon Rayfield, entered her prison and spoke of hope and safety. Every legal delay under pretext of still finding alive the lost Julia, having been exhausted, the day of trial came, and with it an almost universal opinion of certain conviction.

do justice to that man; by saying, that very few men, educated or uneducated, ever exceeded him in cool, determined courage, of course in presence of mind; and farther, none can exceed him in purity of purpose. You recollect that it was his evidence that saved Jane Gray from conviction, by deposing that he saw and spoke to Julia, on the morning of her disappearance.'

That morning was one we had all too much reason to remember, to admit our forgetting the appearance of nature. The moon had passed the full about two days, but the sky In brief, if any difference in prosperity, as was overcast, therefore, it was one of those far as wealth was concerned, it was percepti- mornings which prevents us from distinguishble a more than common share fell on the ing day break. Patrick then in Mrs. Gray's Gray farm. But still that prosperity was house, I have no doubt providentially detainwithout soil,-a black and scowling gloomed there, awaked long before day, but not hung over the whole scene. For want of being able to distinguish musky moon light The charge was supported by evidence direct proof, she had not been punished as a from twilight, thought the day had dawned entirely circumstantial, but as the trial ad-murderess, but yet, as such was she regard- and rose in order to return to his own house. vanced, circumstances of crimination seemeded by the public, and the tone of human The room he slept in was only divided by a to combine with irresistible force. The feeling must greatly change, before public plank partition from the pallet of poor Julia, defence rested on the body not being found, indignation is easily or quickly appeased in and we suppose, that the noise he necessarily and on the evidence of Patrick O'Doyle any similar case. That impression which made, roused the poor distressed girl, and This testimony stated, that the deponent with grows deeper by time, and which death alone that in the alarm she thought only of her several others had been the day before the can obliterate, was made on every heart, and step-mother, but be that as it may, she evasion of Julia, employed in repairing some The murdered Julia,' came to remem- started up and rushed frantically from the part of the mills belonging to Mrs. Gray; brance whenever Jane Gray, or her history house, pursued by the astonished O'Doyle, that a very heavy rain had so swelled the cams to remembrance. she took the road directly towards Chartier, creek, that he was compelled to remain all and towards this house. Such was the effect night in Mrs. Gray's house; and that with of her terror that she very closely approachan intention of returning home, he rose very ed the still foaming creek, before the really early in the morning; and saw and spoke to active O'Doyle could overtake and seize her Julia outside of the house. Finally O'Doyle in his arms. His voice did not fall kindly closed by observing, that he Wondered not on her ear for the first time, and it now came at seeing the chile out of dures before day, soothingly to her beating heart, as her waking knowing the ways of the family.' senses returned. He folded her to his manly breast, and in place of bearing her back to her step-mother, dashed through the creek and bore her into this house. We were all up and around the dripping man and child in a few moments, and had a fire kindled before O'Doyle commenced his explanation, which closed with the most bitter bad luck to her,' that I ever heard him express.

So passed ten more tedious years.

During the most part of the intervening period of ten years, I had been absent, and only occasionally received and exchanged a letter with my old friend Rayfield, to whose house I hastened on my return. Sprigs of the almond tree had crowned the old farmer and his wife, and their daughter had become a fine young woman. My reception was cordial, the evening very fine, and the downward sun glanced his yellow beams over the hills and vallies, and over the Gray farm, which spread from us eastward a rich landscape.

Notwithstanding the closing remark, O'Doyle's testimony was very decisive in favor of the prisoner at the bar :-but still, that a female child of eight years of age, could, in the cold and wet of November, with creeks flowing full, leave the neighborhood, seemed next to impossible. That by some means the lost child had been drowned, Jane Gray, is she yet living? I demandbecame at length the settled opinion of courted. and audience, and also of the Jury but with A living death,' replied Mr. Rayfield but them was left the awful yes or no, did she friend Mark, if you have been surprised at fall by accident, or by the hand of her unnat-the first part of her history, you will be more ural step-mother. Two days the trial lasted astonished at the latter, Jane Gray is now before the Jury was sent to their room, living in the house she once called her own, having received a brief and rather vague under the protection of Warden Rayfield, charge from the bench; but a charge inclin-my son, and his wife, Julia, once Julia Gray.' ing to acquittal. Two nights and one day I actually started to my feet, repeating. more, did the Jury remain engaged in earnest Julia Gray and sunk back on my chair, recapitulation and comparing the testimony, still repeating, Julia Gray !' and on the morning of the second day returned into court. The room and yard was crowded, yet a pin dropping would have been heard. The convulsive sobs of the woman whose life depended on two words,|| were the only sounds which broke the dread silence. At length the decisive 'NOT GUILTY, was read,

If the character of man is mysterious in any one thing more than another, it is in their general conduct, in cases of acquittals on charge involving life and death. Jane Gray, pale as a statue, sat a few moments after hearing of her escape; then clasped her hands to her temples, uttered a piercing scream, and fell senseless; and in a state of infantile weakness was conveyed to her home under the care of Solomon Rayfield, who alone stood by her through the storm.

When I remember the condition of the suffering child, Christian charity secms extinct in my breast. When bereft of her wet, to put on dry and warm clothing, her tender limbs showed one series of wounds and stripes.

My own share in the affairs of Julia Gray, so long accounted for by the public, by every suggestion but the true one, was even a mystery to my family and O'Doyle, at the moment of her evasion, but you will soon Yes! Julia!' replied father, mother, and receive what will convince you of the correctdaughter together; The supposed murder-ness of my proceedings. When my real ed Julia, is now the matron of yonder motives were disclosed to the public in this mansion, and our beloved daughter and vicinity, some few there were who condemned, sister.' but applause came from the far greater numCan such glad tidings be true?' I re-ber, and what is of infinitely inore consesponded, as soon as I recovered from my quence to me, I have a self-approving and I trance of astonishment. firmly believe a God approving conscience. But let us proceed.

Yes! true,' replied the whole family together, as the ways of God are just,' and continued Mr. Rayfield, we have yet time to pass over events ending so heart-pleasing, before supper.'

I sat a statue of attention, and the old historian proceeded.

You no doubt remember the little Julia, and the mysterious circumstances attending her disappearance, and also the trial of Jane Gray. The real facts of the case were only The acquittal of a Jury often prolongs life, known to the persons here present, to our but where a strong suspicion of blood-guilti-son Warden, and to Patrick O'Doyle. ness fastens on the public mind, it is difficult || Before I proceed to relate those facts, I must

So long and so bitterly had Julia suffered every species of hardship, and hunger not even did she escape, that she seemed to devour some warm milk and bread, and in a few moments fell into a sound sleep on the lap of my wife. If our feelings had not been most powerfully enlisted in her cause, our excitement would have been roused to the utmost while looking on her angel face, as she seemed to repose in gladness. A voice went to my inmost soul, saying, That child is given to thy care.'

And as far as strength is given me,' I

Did I see nothin of Julia? sartin what,, cemeterics in this, that it contains few monucould I see of the chile? To be plain ments except such as commemorate persons Misthress Gray, these are strange questions; whose fame cannot be increased by this an to be more plain Madam, if I d'dnt see tribute to their memory. The monuments you I heard you put'n her to bed last night.may be regarded rather as expressions of the Sure you ought to know bether than me, national homage than efforts to perpetuate how she got out ufe it.' the memory of the dead. The monument of CowLEY is chaste; the urn is wreathed with a chaplet of laurel. In the inscription he is pronounced the Pindar, Horace and Virgil of England. This monument was also erected by the Duke of Buckingham.

The first part of this reply was too much
for the terrified woman; the close she heard
not, but it was not wasted in air, as a number of
the neighbors had already arrived, and others
every moment appearing, and just as O'Doyle
closed to him rather lengthy ejaculations, and
I came close to where he was standing, a
hoarse and very angry voice was heard.

She knows very well what has become of
her husband's child,' and in a tone still more
loud and angry, another voice rose, 'If Julia
Gray is not found, and alive and well, Jane
Gray shall be found.'
[Concluded in our next.]

His thought flashed on us all, and in one breath responded, by completing O'Doyle's prediction, Will be charged with murder,' which I, however, carried out by exclaiming. TRAVELING SKETCHES. so let her be charged, the charge will be only for what she has morally committed. Well does she deserve all the terrors of even

Westminster Abbey.

a conviction for a crime, it is evident she By a Correspondent of the Albany Evening Journal.
has no compunction against committing; and
we have the means in our hands to snatch
the child from the grasp of Jane Gray, and
in the last extremity save herself from death,
if even convicted,'

I then proceeded to arrange matters; secresy, it was merely and indeed scarcely necessary to enjoin, We had long been preparing to send my son, Warden, to Princeton, within a few miles of which resided a farmer in good circumstances, and a very particular friend of myself and family, and also a cousin of Mary Layton, the mother of Julia. To this man and his wife, I was determined to confide Julia, and never was confidence better placed. For the moment, however, we were put to our utmost resources to carry our design into effect, as, while we were concerting measures, and still before dlay actually broke, all was uproar at Gray's Very seldom had poor Julia been permitted to rest on her wretched pallet at open day, and this morning the shrill voice of Jane Gray in a louder and louder key, calling Julia, at length actually reached our ears. Not a moment was to be lost, and we were admirably aided by the cool O'Doyle, who snapping his fingers exclaimed,

Do you fix things; I'll go over there, and away he was like an arrow. We hastily conveyed the little sleeper to an upper room with my daughter to watch over her, and then followed O'Doyle.

One of the first exclamations made by Jane Gray, when Julia was first missed was, where is O'Doyle?'-and when the man himself made his appearance with a face expressing, what is the matter here ?-the now almost distracted woman ran to meet him crying, Julia oh! Julia, and oh! Mr. Q'Doyle, did you see nothing of Julia ?'

O'Dayle stopping short, and with a stare, which no man but an Irishman, ever could assume, after a long breath answered her by repetition.

Julia-Julia-what of her ?

Mr. O'Dayle what time did you rise? What time did I rise? replies O'Dayle, as if in the utmost surprise at the questionwhy this morning, shure,'

Oh! heavens, Mr. O'Doyle, did you see nothing of Julia ?

CHAUCER, the father of English poets, has an ancient Gothic monument, much defaced. There is much poetry disguised under an homely dress in the inscription (now almost obliterated) upon the monument of Michael Drayton, a poet little known to us. He flourished in the 17th century.

'Do pious marble! let thy readers know
What they and what their children owe
To Drayton's name, whose sacred dust
We recommend unto thy trust.

Protect his memory, and preserve his story;
Remain a lasting monument of his glory;
And when thy ruin shall disclaim

To be the treasure of his name,
His name, that cannot fade, shall be
An everlasting monument to thee.'

BEN JOHNSON, the contemporary and jealous rival of Shakspeare while living, but the generous defender of his fame when dead, is honored with an unmeaning inscription, which you have often heard :

'O Rare Ben Johnson!"

LONDON, JULY 18, 1833. MY DEAR W.-Passing from the last of the Chapels, we were next conducted into the area of the church, where the number of interesting monuments is so great that I can scarcely do more than give you the names of the most distinguished of England's great The monument of BUTLER, the author of men, who lie without the precincts of the Hudibras, boldly alludes to the poet's poverty, chapels appropriated to the dust of those and perhaps rather parades the name of its distinguished by birth. Wolfe's monument founder. This monument was erected by represents the victor falling on the heights of John Barber, Esq. Lord Mayor of London, Abraham, while Glory awaits with a crown that he who was destitute of all things when in her hand his ascent to the skies. The alive, might not want a monument when visitor finds among the promiscuous array of dead.' monuments, one which covers the tomb of SPENCER'S monument contains an inscripAnne of Cleve, who was married under cir- tion written with far more correct taste than cumstances of great pomp and public rejoic-any other I have seen; which has come down ing, to the capricious tyrant Henry 8th, on to us from the same age: Here lies (expectthe 3d of January, 1539, and was divorced ing the second coming of our Savior Jesus six days afterwards, with leave to marry Christ) the body of Edmund Spencer, the again. She displayed a spirit worthy of a Prince of Poets in his time, whose divine Queen, by living in retirement the rest of her spirit needs no other witness than the works life, and during her solitude the Queen whom which he left behind him. He died in 1598.' Henry had selected in her stead, suffered a still more cruel fate than her own.-By a juxtaposition, which perhaps was accidental, but certainly is very just, the next monument is of another unfortunate female, whose unnatural ambition made her the victim of a still more ruthless tyrant. This is Ann, the daughter of the Earl of Warwick, and wife of the tyrant Richard Sd, by whom she was poisoned, so as to prepare the way for the inhuman monster's marriage with Elizabeth, daughter of his brother, Edward 4th, and the sister of the young King and Duke of York, whom he had caused to be smothered in the tower.

It was

MILTON'S marble, though his works will be
the proudest monument of the nation, was
the tribute of individual respect.
erected by a Mr. Benson, in 1737. The
Lyric muse which graces the monument of
GRAY, holds in one hand a medallion bust of
the author of the Elegy,' and with the other
points to the bust of Milton, which adorns the
monument of the author of Paradise Lost.
The inscription is not extravagant;

No more the Grecian muse unrivaled reigns,
To Britain let the nations homage pay,
She felt a Homer's fire in Milton's strains,
A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of Gray.'

PRIOR'S monument was erected by Louis I have now retraced our course with the the Great of France, to whose court he had guide book before me, until we have returned been sent as a minister, by Queen Ann. I to the Poet's corner, through which we know not whether its erection is a more entered the Abbey. We might linger here delicate tribute to the memory of the poet or until night without exhausting the subjects of redounds more to the honor of the founder. interest, were it consistent with the purpose There is also the figure of a boy holding an of seeing London in any reasonable time. A hour glass, run out, and another with a torch, simple monument, erected as I have before which is reversed at the same moment. mentioned, by the Duke of Buckingham, is I cannot resist the impulse to copy the placed at the entrance. The inscription is in whole of the glowing but just inscription upon good taste-J DRYDEN, born 632, died the monument of Granville Sharp • Sacred May 1, 1700. John Sheffield, Duke of Buck-to the memory of Granville Sharp, ninth son ingham, erected this monument, 1720,' of Dr. Thomas Sharp, Prebendary, &c. of Westminster Abbey differs from all other York. Born and educated in the bosom of