ON THE ESTABLISHMENT OF NIGHT GUARDS, OR WATCHMEN. IN proportion as a town increases in population and wealth, we naturally acknowledge the necessity for making some provision for the protection of persons and property, at those hours when the inhabitants are least able to protect themselves. Consequently, we find that from the earliest establishment of municipal bodies, arrangements, more or less judicious, have been made for the establishment of a system of night-guard or watching. There are several allusions to watchmen in the Song of Solomon and in the Psalms, which show that the Jews had such guards in their towns. At Athens, sentinels were posted at different parts during the night; and overlookers went round at intervals, to see that they were at their posts: the overlookers used to ring a bell, which the sentinels were obliged to answer. There were at Rome, under the names of Triumviri nocturni, Cohortes vigilium, &c., men who guarded the streets during the night, as well to give alarm in case of fire, as to keep depredators in awe. The custom of causing the watchmen to call out the hours during the night, seems to have sprung up in Germany, after the erection of walled cities and towns. In the feudal and baronial ages, towns were often surprised by hostile troops in the night; and to lessen the liability of being so taken unawares, watchmen or sentinels were placed, generally on elevated positions. The custom of calling out the hour was probably established with the view to furnish some test, by which the inhabitants might know that the watchmen were vigilant and at their posts. With regard to the earlier cities, such as Rome, even if they had watchmen, it was not so easy for them to announce the hours during the night. Clocks and watches were not then invented, and sun-dials could only be used during the continuance (and that unclouded) of the sun above the horizon. During the day, the inhabitants could know the hour by means of public clepsydræ or water-clocks, which were kept in open buildings in various parts of Rome. These water-clocks indicated the time by the trickling of water through a small orifice; but as they were not likely to be visited by the inhabitants during the night, it does not appear that there was any means of knowing the hour at those times. When, however, the walled towns of Germany and the Low Countries came into note, the night-watchmen, in addition to their more important duty, announced the hour. A nightly guard was established at Paris so early as the year 595. The citizens were obliged to keep watch in turns, under the command of a Miles Gueti, who was also called Chevalier. From this inconvenient duty the inhabitants frequently freed themselves by paying a sum of money; until, at length, a body of night-guards was established. A traveller in the East, in the last century, speaks of a curious mode of night-watching in Japan. The watchmen used to have ropes with knots tied in them at intervals the rope, when kindled, would burn or smoulder away slowly, and when it had burned to a knot, the watchman announced the hour, (or whatever other interval of time it might be,) by striking two flat boards together. Montagne, speaking of the German towns about the end of the sixteenth century, says," The watchmen went about the streets in the night time, not so much on account of thieves, as on account of fires and other alarms. When the clocks struck, the one was obliged to call out loud to the other, and to ask what it was o'clock, and then to wish him a good night." These watchmen had in some cases horns, and in others rattles; the former generally for villages, and the latter for towns. The rattles which the watchmen of London carried a few years ago, seem to have been of German origin, since a body called the Ratelwache, or rattle-guard, was established at Hamburg in 1671. There appears to have been one species of watchmen which has never been introduced in England; that is, steeple or tower-watchmen. These were men who were posted in church steeples, or on high towers, and who had to blow their horns at the expiration of every hour. The custom prevailed in Germany in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. At first the inhabitants themselves had to fill this office by turns; but in process of time, a paid body of men, who were generally the town-pipers, or town-musicians, relieved them from this duty. A police order was made at Berlin in 1580, by which the steeple-watchmen were allowed to attend at weddings with music, for the accustomed pay, but only till the hour of nine at night, in order that they might then blow their horns on the steeples, and commence their nightly watch. In some German towns the regula tions were so strict, that the steeple-watchman had a room built for him in or near the steeple of the church, from which he was not permitted to descend. Most of our readers are familiar with the custom of Christmas "waits," playing music and calling out the hour on several consecutive nights preceding Christmas-day. These waits were originally a sort of watchmen in the court-yards of the palaces of the nobility, some centuries back; and Rymer gives the following curious account of the pay and privileges of the waits in the king's court, in the reign of Edward the Fourth. A Wayte, that nightelye from Mychelmas to Shreve Thorsdaye pipethe the watche within this courte fower tymes; in the somere nyghtes iij tymes, and makethe bon gayte at everie chambere-doare, and office, as well for feare of pyckeres and pillers. He eateth in the halle with mynstrielles, and takethe lyverey at nyght a loffe, a galone of alle, and for somere nightes ij candles pich, a bushel of coles; and for wintere nightes half a loafe of bread, a galone of alle, iiij candles piche, a bushel of coles; daylye whilst he is presente in courte for wages in cheque roale allowed iiijd. or else iij by the discresshon of the steuarde and tressorere; and that, aftere his cominge and diseruinge; lyke to the wages that he takethe; and he be syke he also cloathinge with the household yeomen or mynstrielles taketh twoe loves, ij messe of great meate one galone of alle. Also he partethe with the householde of general gyfts, and hathe his beddinge carried by the comptrollers assygment; and under this yeoman to be a groome watere. If he can excuse the yeoman in his absence, then he takethe rewarde, clothinge, meate, and all other things lyke to other grooms of houshold. Also this yeomanwayghte, at the makinge of knightes of the bathe, for his attendence upon them by nyghte tyme in watchinge in the chapelle, hathe to his fee all the watchinge-clothinge that the knighte shall wear uppon him. Thus, we find, that these waits were a kind of minstrel-watchmen attached to the establishments of the great. In later times, when baronial customs were on the decline, the waits emerged from the court-yards, and perambulated the streets,-became, in fact, tradesmen on their own account, instead of being retainers of great families. At present they have entirely lost the character of watchmen, although, in the intervals of their tunes, they still continue to call the hour. Permanent watchmen, however, gradually became introduced into England. These watchmen, as most persons will remember, were appointed, paid, and regulated, either by the corporation of the town in which they served, or by the authorities of the dif ferent parishes in those towns, each parish regulating | wiser workman, prudently placed this sum of money its own watchmen. The old watch-boxes have left in the neighbouring Savings' Bank, he would assure their impression on the mind, as little domiciles in to himself that certain resource for his old age, which the watchmen rested—and perchance slept-at without which he will only fall into misery and regret, intervals between going their rounds. A material and his gray hairs go down with sorrow to the grave. and judicious alteration, the nature of which we need A person who abstains from those useless Monday not particularly describe, has been made, within a few holidays, and carries to the Savings' Bank every week years, in the night-guarding of the public streets, by that sum of money, which otherwise would have the establishment of the Metropolitan Police. been lost, as before shown, will, at the end of only seven years, have accumulated no less a sum than one hundred pounds. May the workmen and mechanics who read this reflect seriously upon what has been stated; and for the future, if they have not already, adopt habits of regularity and economy, without which it is impos The regulation of the police in Paris and other French towns, whether for day or night watch, savours more of military discipline than anything of the kind which we have in England: the system of espionage is, indeed, so strict, that it is doubtful whether it would suit the notions and habits of our countrymen. We should be apt to think it an inter-sible for them to continue respected, comfortable, or ference with private rights, if the owner of an hotel had to render up to the police a list of the names, professions, &c., of all the persons who might come to take up their abode, even for a single night, in their houses: yet such is the case in Paris. MONDAY'S EXPENSES. In many of our villages, in all our manufacturing towns, and more especially in the overgrown metropolis of London, the grand emporium of the world, a great number of workmen, of all descriptions, follow the baneful habit of making a holiday, as it is falsely termed, on Monday, for the purpose, not of being surrounded by their wives and families, and assisting their labours, but of wasting in a public-house those hours which would have been much better, and more profitably employed in their workshops. It is even not a rare occurrence to observe those unfortunate beings who take also the Tuesday, nay even in some instances the Wednesday, for the same hateful occupation. Independent of the habits of idleness and of debauchery which they necessarily contract in such scenes and occupations, they invariably ruin their health, enervate their strength, and bring on premature old age. Nor do the direful effects stop here; for should a panic happen, or a stagnation of trade arise, from any of those innumerable causes which from time to time agitate the commercial world, so as to compel the great manufacturers, or wholesale houses, to lower their establishments, those holiday-making workmen would be among the first that would be removed from their situations, and refused employment; and they would have only themselves to accuse for all the misery which they would thus have brought upon themselves and upon their families. happy. May they remember, and avail themselves of the advantages offered by the Savings' Banks of the kingdom; "for," to use the words of a well-known address, "these banks receive just what each person can spare, and when and as long as he can spare it-a shilling or a pound more or less, weekly or monthly, or quarterly, or now and then, just as it happens." There at all times the fruits of industry may be safely housed, and what is more, while there they remain, they are certain to be on the increase. If it please God to spare a person's life, he will go on increasing his store and his respectability. In health and in sickness he will have no wants but what his own funds can supply. Secure from distress himself, he may be able to relieve (as not unfrequently happens) the distress of a relation or friend; and when he dies, will leave his little property to his children, or other relatives, and his good example with it. The present great advantages derived from Savings' Banks in this country may be partially estimated from the fact of considerably more than the enormous sum of twenty millions of money being invested in them. To the manifold benefits arising from them to families of the labouring classes the writer of this can fully testify, having frequently heard them admitted by the parties, with tears of joy in their eyes. F. I. F. RELIGION has been sometimes decried as the passion of weak men, women, and children. Woman may blush for the association which the ridicule involves, but she has no reason to be ashamed of her propensity. May it ever be her distinction! It is the heart which adorns as well as enriches. MRS. JOHN SANFORD. THOSE disasters which break down the spirit of a man, and prostrate him in the dust, seem to call forth all the energies of the softer sex, and give such intrepidity and elevation to their character, that at times it approaches to sublimity. Nothing can be more touching than to behold a soft and tender female, who had been all weakness and dependance, and alive to every trivial roughness, while treading the prosperous paths of life, suddenly rising in mental force to be the comforter and supporter of her husband under misfortune, and abiding, with unshrinking firmness, the bitterest blasts of adversity. As the vine which has long twined its graceful foliage about the oak, and been lifted by it in sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is rified by the thunder-bolt, cling round it with its caressing tendrils, and bind up its shattered boughs; so is it beautifully ordered by Providence, that woman, who is the mere dependant and ornament of man in his happier hours, should be his stay and solace when smitten with sudden calamity; winding herself into the rugged recesses of his nature, tenderly supporting the drooping head, and binding up the broken heart. I was once congratulating a friend, who had around him a blooming family, knit together in the strongest affecsiasm, "than to have a wife and children: if you are prosperous, there they are to share your prosperity; if otherwise, there they are to comfort you." ? But there is another consideration, merely matter of computation, which ought never to be lost sight of. If we estimate the day's work of a mechanic or workman at three shillings, and what he spends during his day's holiday-making every Monday at two shillings, which is certainly not exaggerating the facts in the generality of instances, it is clear that he who only throws away the Monday, will be out of pocket at the end of the week five shillings, besides what may be lost by other means, or by the rules of the establishment to which he belongs. In many instances must also be added the loss of situation and character, or at any rate the smaller gains of the Tuesday, as few men are capable of working properly the day after a debauch. Now as there are fifty-two weeks in a year, it follows that such a workman loses in the course of the year two hundred and sixty shillingstion. "I can wish you no better lot," said he, with enthuas his mere expenses of the Monday, independent of those of his family. If, however, instead of dissipating the Monday, he, like the more provident and THE BLACK RAT. THE Black Rat, although at present nearly extinct, was originally the common species in this country. The Brown Rat, with which we are so well acquainted, is said to have made its first appearance in England about the middle of the sixteenth century, but authors are undecided as to the country from which it was brought; since its introduction it has rapidly increased, and its black kinsman is rarely met with. This increase of one, and disappearance of another, species, may be partly attributed to the greater size of the Brown Rat, who, in the wars that take place in times of famine, generally comes off victorious. The principal haunts of the Black Rat at present are in old houses, in large cities, such as London and Edinburgh, where sometimes considerable numbers exist. "It forms its runs between the walls of houses, and under the stone and brick flooring of cellars, coming forth in the night in search of food." Although (says Mr. Bell) their disposition appears to be naturally exceedingly ferocious, there are instances on record of their evincing considerable attachment, not only to each other, but to mankind. Mr. Jesse, in his usually amusing and pleasant style, gives us an anecdote, which the respectable authority from which he derived it forbids us to doubt, exhibiting a degree of tenderness and care towards the disabled and aged members of their community, which were it imitated by Christian men, would either render our Poor-laws unnecessary, or remove the disgrace and opprobrium which their mal-administration too often causes to attach to them. His informant, the Rev. Mr. Ferryman, walking out in some meadows one evening, "observed a great number of Rats in the act of migrating from one place to another, which it is known they are in the habit of doing occasionally. He stood perfectly still, and the whole assemblage passed close to him. His astonishment, however, was great, when he observed an old blind Rat, which held a piece of stick at one end in his mouth, while another Rat had hold of the other end of it, and thus conducted his blind companion." The name given to this Rat by the Welsh, signifying "French Mouse," renders it probable that, whatever may be its native country, it was introduced here from the French coast. From Europe it has been sent with the Brown Rat to America, the islands of the Pacific, and many other places, in some of which it has become already a serious inconvenience. The tail of the Rat is very singular in its formation; it is covered with the appearance of small scales arranged in rings, between which stiff hairs appear, but too few in number to hide the scales from the eye. The food of the Rat is various, although, when it can obtain vegetable substances, such as grain and roots, it seems to prefer them to animal nourishment. Habit, however, frequently renders the Rats more decidedly carnivorous, and they become greedy devourers of putrefied substances, assembling in large numbers in drains and slaughter-houses. Although the Black Rat is so well known in Europe at the present time, it is the opinion of many authors that the ancients were ignorant of its existence; from this it is inferred that its original country is America, from whence it was imported into Europe by the vessels that trade between the two continents; but when this first occurred is uncertain. The Black Rat is still well known in the rural districts of France, where it is a complete scourge to the farmer, from the damage it commits, by gnawing linen, woollen goods, leather, harness, and fat substances of every description; in fact, almost everything that falls in its way. It is particularly fond of hog's-lard, and this substance is frequently employed as a bait in the traps which are set for its destruction. A method of taking Rats was some years back resorted to with great success; it consisted in employing a simple wooden trap, with a door like a portcullis, capable of closing one end, the other end being left open. At first the door was propped up so as to prevent its falling, and malt slightly perfumed with oil of aniseed was spread near to the trap and inside of it, the Rats being attracted by the scent to feed on the malt; fresh supplies were laid down every morning, till by degrees, becoming more confident, all the Rats on the premises resorted to the trap to partake of their savoury meal. When the animals had acquired perfect confidence, say in a week or ten days, the prop supporting the door was removed, and it was so contrived that it could be let down in an instant; a bag rubbed with the oil of aniseed was also tied on to the open end, and the Rats coming to their usual meal would soon fill the trap; the door was then let down quickly but gently, and the trap with its prisoners removed. The Rats it contained were shaken into the bag, and a string being drawn round it to close its opening, it was detached from the trap and the Rats destroyed, taking especial care that not one escaped; a fresh bag was then tied to the trap, which was replaced in its original position, and another party of prisoners captured. In this manner, if proper precautions are used, nearly all the Rats in the neighbourhood can be taken. Ir we hope to instruct others, we should familiarize our own minds to some fixed and determinate principles of action. The world is a vast labyrinth, in which almost every one is running a different way, and almost every one manifesting hatred to those who do not run the same way. A few indeed stand motionless, and not seeking to lead themselves or others out of the maze, laugh at the failures of their brethren, yet with little reason; for more grossly than the most bewildered wanderer does he err, who never aims to go right. It is more honourable to the head, as well as to the heart, to be misled by our eagerness in the pursuit of truth, than to be safe from blundering by contempt of it. The happiness of mankind is the end of virtue, and truth is the knowledge of the means; which he will never seriously attempt to discover who has not habitually interested himself in the welfare of others. The searcher after truth must love and be beloved; for general benevolence is a benevolence is begotten and rendered permanent by social necessary motive to constancy of pursuit; and this general and domestic affections. Let us beware of that proud philosophy which affects to inculcate philanthrophy while it denounces every home-born feeling by which it is produced and nurtured. The paternal and filial duties discipline the tensity of private attachments encourages, not prevents, heart, and prepare it for the love of all mankind. The inuniversal benevolence. The nearer we approach the sun, the more intense his heat: yet what corner of the system does he not cheer and vivify?-S. T. COLERIDGE. PENALT-REDBROOK-BIGSWEIR-ST. BRIAVEL'S -LLANDOGO-BROCKWEIR. THE walks in the vicinity of Monmouth, as may be supposed, are infinitely varied and delightful. Chippenham Mead, on which the races are held, is a favourite evening resort of the inhabitants; but the stranger must climb the surrounding eminences. Perhaps the finest view of the town is obtained from a spot distinguished by a group of trees near the foot of the ascent to the Kymin, and not far from the entrance to Beaulieu Wood, above the road to Coleford. If the lights are good, the combination of the lofty spire, castle, and picturesque buildings of the town, undisfigured by smoke, the massive bridge thrown into deep shadow above the broad and rapid Wye, which sparkles with a life-like effect, with the romantic features of the surrounding scenery, form a picture scarcely equalled in its way in the island. From the summit of the hill on the road to Chepstow, is another splendid prospect, embracing not only the adjacent vale and town, but a sublime view of the lofty Sugar Loaf, Blorenge, Skyrrid, and Black Mountains, with the mild blue hills of Cambria skirting the horizon still further to the north and "far west." The high conical hill called the Kymin, which rises abruptly from the banks of the river, opposite the town, is worth visiting. A pleasant walk VOL. XIII. has been formed to the summit, which is partly crowned with the very extensive wood called Beaulieu Grove, from whence there is a view extending (the topographers say, but this we will not vouch for) to the amazing circumference of nearly three hundred miles. The course of the Wye from New Weir to Monmouth is seen to great advantage, and the prospect is of great magnificence. On the centre of this eminence, a monument in the form of an embattled tower has been erected by subscription, to commemorate the glorious victories of the immortal Nelson and our other naval heroes. It is fitted up for the accommodation of visiters, and the frieze which surrounds it is ornamented with medallions of the most eminent British admirals, accompanied with emblematic and appropriate devices. It is, however, now going to decay. The tourist must ascend from this eminence to the Buckstone, which stands on a hill about 1000 feet high, commanding the finest view in the lower Wye tour, with the exception of the Wyndcliff, and, perhaps, Cymon's Yatt. The distance from Monmouth by the new road to Coleford, is about three miles. The Buckstone is a famous Logan or rocking-stone of the Druids, and in form resembles an irregular pyramid inverted, and standing upon its apex; its circumference at the upper part, is about fifty-four feet, but the point where it touches the pedestal is not above two feet square. 413 summit is a rock-basin, supposed to have been used for libations, or other ceremonies connected with the Celtic superstitions. Upon the eastern corner of the stone is a rude arch, now almost obliterated from the effects of time and the weather, which is supposed by Borlase to have been the sacellum, or chapel, where the Druid of the stone placed himself during the sacred rites of divination, or for the purpose of giving oracular answers. This hill was no doubt a grand station of the Druids, whence they communicated by beacons for great distances. In a clear day the prospect is of immense extent, and sweeps the horizon on almost every side. The Monmouthshire and Welsh mountains as far as the Brecon Beacons, (the highest point in South Wales,) Herefordshire, the Malvern Hills, the wide expanse of the Forest of Dean, the Treleck mountains, and a graceful view towards Tintern and the Wyndcliff, with glimpses of the Cotswolds, and in other counties, are all to be seen from this celebrated spot. Immediately below is what we may term a sea of wood-one of the finest parts of Dean Forest. We have visited the Buckstone frequently, and always discovered new beauties. Wood, water, mountain, and precipice, are grouped and blended together in the "true superb of the picturesque." Another very interesting excursion may be made from Monmouth up the Treleck Hill, which commands decidedly the finest views of the mountains to the north and west, to the village of Treleck, (six miles,) an ancient British station, where there are some curious Celtic remains. Three huge stones standing in a field near the church, (which is worth inspection,) are sometimes called Harold's stones. There is also a large tumulus encircled by a moat, supposed to be of Druidical origin. on the right bank of the river, with the curious cross in its pretty church-yard, are worthy attention, if time is not an object. The former is situate on the side of a woody eminence. On an extensive common behind there is a large oak, with a stone seat at its foot. A singular custom was formerly observed at this spot: when a funeral passed by, the corpse was placed on this stone, and the company sang a psalm; being an evident continuation of the oak and stones of Druidism, and Celtic customs altered into a Christian form. Passing by Upper and Lower Redbrook, on the left bank, the little stream which forms the boundary between the counties of Monmouth and Gloucester, here falls into the Wye, turning the wheels of several iron and tin-works. At Whitebrook are some paper-mills, which stand on the site of the old iron-works, and a little below, a lofty eminence, called Pen-y-van Hill, appears on the right. Between Pen-y-van and the river are the ruins of the ancient manor-house of Pilstone, which are now partly converted into a farm. Crossing the Wye over a modern and somewhat handsome iron bridge, we come to Bigsweir House, (now we believe untenanted,) beautifully situate amidst hills luxuriantly clothed with wood. The house stands on a gentle eminence, which gradually rises into a lofty hill called Hud-knolls, on the summit of which, in a bleak uninteresting country, are the venerable remains of St. Briavel's Castle. This ancient fortress stands on the confines of Dean Forest, and was originally founded by Milo, earl of Hereford, in the reign of Henry the First, for the residence of the Lords Warden of the English and Welsh marches, and as a check to Cambrian incursions. It has been in a state of decay for centuries, and though "patched and cobbled like a wornout shoe," it is still sufficiently in repair to serve the purposes of a prison for debtors and delinquents in the Forest. At Bigsweir, an intelligent writer makes the following remark : The voyager will lose one interesting feature almost peculiar to the Wye; we allude to the numerous weirs which obstruct its navigation when the tide is out; at high water the tide flows over them and makes the river appear perfectly level. Return we now to the " very delight of the eyes and seat of pleasure," as the poet Gray terms Monmouth, and let us wend our way down the placid Wye to the ruins of "Holy Tinterne." The prevailing features as we progress onwards are lofty wooded banks, which often hem the stream closely; but we prefer that portion of the scenery above Monmouth, where the banks of the river are more open, and consequently afford a wider range of landscape for the eye to dwell upon. Gilpin, in speaking of the beauties of river scenery, says, The river is also straitened in many places by protimes they should come running up to the fore-jecting rocks and shelves, in some instances extending ground; then hide themselves behind woody preci- nearly across the stream; these produce a constant pices; then again, when we know not what has succession of rapids and eddying falls, which conbecome of them, appear in the distances, forming tinue beyond Bigsweir, where the current is very their meanders along some winding vale." strong. "that some TROY HOUSE, about a mile to the south-east of Monmouth, on the banks of a little trout stream called the Trothy, from whence it derives its name, is chiefly worthy of notice on account of several antiquities being preserved there. Amongst others may be mentioned the bed which is assigned by tradition as the one in which Henry V. was born; his cradle, and the armour which he is said to have worn at Agincourt. There is also a curious carved oak chimney-piece, brought from Ragland Castle. The house, which was the work of Inigo Jones, contains some fine apartments, adorned with portraits of the noble house of Beaufort, into whose hands it originally came from the Herbert family. The present Duke of Beaufort occasionally visits it in the Autumn. About half a mile further on, "the Wye," to use the words of Nicholson, "makes a grand sweep to the right, and assumes a new character. Dismissing its rocks and precipices, it rolls through lofty sloping hills, thickly covered with waving woods. All is here solemn, still, and agreeable." Penalt church, and the interesting little church at Michel Troy, both From hence a long reach leads us to Llandogo, situated on the right bank of the river about seven miles from Monmouth. Tiddenham Hill rises prominently in the foreground of this sweet village, which consists of numerous dwellings studded along the side of a steep and lofty eminence, mantled with thick and picturesque woods. Nearly in the centre of the hill is a deep ravine, called "Cleddon Shoots," down which in the Winter there is a beautiful cascade. A pretty view of the river, which forms a smooth bay, with the extensive tract of woodland called Hudknolls nearly opposite, may here be obtained. The Wye now becomes subject to the influence of the tide, and its hitherto crystal and translucid wave is sullied with the turbid waters of the Severn Sea. Coedithelweir is a large fall of water beneath Hudknolls wood. On the left bank, about half a mile lower down, is the populous little hamlet of Brockweir, where there is a mart for the reception of goods, chiefly corn, hoops, and fagots, which are brought down the Wye, and here shipped on board vessels of from thirty to eighty tons and upwards, for Bristol |