6

by the neighbourhood of the scenes he so charmingly | of America more than five times as broad as from Dover delineates, I was surprised and grieved to peruse to Calais ; and with respect to the Ilissus, which had his elaborate attack on classical learning as the chief received in my mind such distorted importance, I will object of education at our great English schools, and on only say, that I have repeatedly walked across it in the studies of the university which follows it. The about twenty seconds without wetting my ancles.? pretty exhibition of a school at the scene of the Ser Surely our accomplished author recognises a strange pent's Bath,'a name of odious fascination, seems to have scale by which to estimate the value of a knowledge of awakened in his accomplished mind an admiration for rivers in the opening or matured mind! While he the Nassau system, at the expense of our own, which probably owes much, however unconsciously, of that I lamented in proportion to my respect for our accuser. graceful spirit which bubbles up in his style as sparklingly I was the less prepared for his enthusiasm of invective, as the fountains he celebrates, to his researches borderbecause in an earlier part of his work he had expatiated ing on the Ilissus, it is difficult to sympathize with with pride, so graceful in his assumed character of an his distress in not having learned the names of all the old man, on the symbols of moral and intellectual American rivers. Of what earthly use would it be to! nobleness presented in the appearance of a party of any English gentleman to know them all as familiarly young English Collegians, specimens of the operation of as Mrs. Malaprop her parts of speech? If he visits the system which he deprecates, in comparison with that a river in America, the name of which he happens not of their fellow-voyagers, who have been fashioned under to know, he will learn it in a minute from the first that which he prefers.' Indeed, after having inveighed backwoodsman who will honour him with a civil against the whole tenor of classical scholastic education, answer; and if he stays at home, what interest has he he admits, 'that in spite of all its disadvantages, a set in the name of a river he will never see, though it of high-minded, noble-spirited young men, eventually should be five times as broad as the sea between Dorer become an honour to their country. But asserts, that and Calais, and should lose in its breadth all the attrithis is no proof that their early education had not butes which give to rivers a place in our recollection or done all in its power to prevent them.' I do not fancy? It would be a vast addition to his knowledge understand what other proof can be required or given, to know all the names of all the inhabitants of London or why, while the fact exists, any apprehension should and Westminster, with the numbers of their houses, as be entertained of the advance of other classes of society authentically collected and alphabetically arranged in in branches of knowledge now within their sphere of the Post Office Directory-information likely to be far opportunity, and the scope of their actual use. If, more convenient than the recollection of all the nams indeed, classical instruction taught no more than an inti- of all the rivers in the new world. But would it be mate acquaintance with the dead languages, and a fine wise, therefore, to fill the memory with such a nomenperception of the beauties of the greatest works of ancient clature rather than with the names of the heroes of the genius, surely such results could not follow the devotion Trojan war, which are indexes to heroic deeds ? To of a large portion of studious boyhood to its labours. know that there are rivers in America one hundred It is not for these accomplishments chiefly, that it is miles in breadth may be well for one whose imaginaselected for the first place in education ; it is because tion has power to embrace such a waste of water; but experience has shown it to afford the best means of beyond that “great fact” what blessing does a nominal training the young mind to patient, continuous, un acquaintance confer, unless the names are themselve ruffled habits of toil; because the study of words, pictures, as 'Abana and Pharpar lucid streams! If especially of exquisite words, is the best introduction to the value of an unseen river to the mind depends on the knowledge of things; because it does not in the first its breadth, Sir Francis Head would prefer by teninstance apply to the faculty of unripe reason, which is thousand-fold the St. Lawrence to the Jordans which be better developed and strengthened, when it can be might have passed with as dry, though not so codexercised on knowledge already mastered, than when temptuous a foot as the Ilissus; and he may strike the incited to try its unfledged energies amidst 'worlds not balance of the interest, according to gallons of water, realized.' but to strengthen the memory, to refine the between the muddy flood of the Mississippi and “Siloa's taste, and to form the habit of cheerful and obedient brook, that flowed fast by the oracle of God.'" toil. It is because the knowledge it communicates is not what is called useful,' because it does not supply the scholar with some information at once to be brought into productive exercise, of which he may be

A CHURCH ANTIQUARIAN. “justly vain,' and with which he may rest contented, that it is wisely presented as a succession of difficulties

BROWNE Willis, the first person who undertook a de to be surmounted by years of study, though cheered on tailed and general survey of the English Cathedrals, the way by glimpses of the beautiful and sublime, dis- acquired his love for this pursuit by passing many of his turbed by no controversial strifes, but giving to the idle hours in the Abbey when a Westminster boy. That labours of boyhood a harmony and a substance, and Abbey was open to the boys till of late years, when they teaching at the same time that there are higher and nobler things in life to be cherished than those which the monuments, and some annoyance to the visitors and

were deprived of a liberty which produced some injury to tend to its outward convenience and enrichment; nay, that there are things compared to which life itself, with showmen. Browne Willis, who became one of the oddest all its utilities, is worthless. Our English classic (for of old men, had his share of peculiarities as a bor. such unquestionably the author is), laments his own The monuments were his books, and before he left school lot, as having left a classical school at the age of he imbibed there a love of churches and church antifourteen, scarcely knowing the name of a single river quities, which fixed the bent of his after life; he was in the new world, tired almost to death of the history of a great repairer of churches and steeples, attended the Ilissus. In after life (he continues) I entered a river cathedrals and churches, whenever he could so time bis

visits, upon their dedication days; and when he went to (1) " As we proceeded up the Rhine there issued from one of the Bath, would lodge nowhere but in the Abbes-house. old romantic castles we were passing, a party of young English lads, A lively lady described him as having, with one of the whose appearance (as soon as they came on board) did ample justice honestest hearts in the world, one of the oddest heads to their country, and comparing them while they walked the deck with the rest of their fellow-prisoners, I could not help fancying that ever dropped from the moon. He wrote the worst that I saw a determination in their step, a latent character in their hand of any man in England, it was more unintelligible attitudes, and a vigour in their young frames, which being inter- than if he had learned to write by copying the inscrip preted, said We dare do all that may become a man,

tions upon old tomb-stones; he wore three or four coats at once, each being of a different generation, and over

6

Who dares do more is none."

a

a

them an old blue cloak lined with fustian, all of which | but it was ordered otherwise, and the heart of the were girt with a leathern belt, giving him the appearance young man was filled with grateful emotion. He of a beggar, for which he was often taken in the course learned from the child that she had been sent by of his enthusiastic wanderings. His weather-beaten wig her mother to carry a basket of food to her father, was of a colour for which language affords no name; who was chopping in the wood near the house ; his slouched hat, having past the stage between black but that, by some mischance, she had strayed from and brown, was in the same predicament as the wig; the path, and, misled by the echo of her father's and the lower parts of his equipment had obtained for him in his own neighbourhood, the appellation of old axe, she had wandered away in an opposite direcWrinkle Boots, for during the wear and tear and repair tion. Every attempt to retrace her steps only led of forty years, the said boots had contracted as many her deeper and deeper into the wood; but still she wrinkles as their quantum of calf-skin would contain, went on. At first, she said, she cried a great deal ; and consequently did not reach half way up the legs but finding her tears and lamentations brought no which they once covered. Being far too deeply engaged relief, she consoled herself with eating some of the with past ages to bestow any portion of his thoughts food she had brought with her. When night came and cares upon the present, he suffered a fair fortune to on, she was overcome with weariness, and lay down be deteriorated by neglecting his worldly affairs; and to sleep in a sheltered place, and rose with the first having lived long enough to hold a distinguished place sound of the birds to pursue her hopeless way. among antiquities himself, he left behind him the When she had exhausted her provisions in the character of a diligent and faithful antiquary, in which basket, she beguiled her sorrows by seeking for he will long continue to be remembered. Reputations of this class are not like those of fashionable authors, of summer fruits, or else the poor wanderer must

herbs and berries. Fortunately it was the season who“ come like shadows and so depart;" they keep their place and make up in duration for what they want have perished. On the third night she lay down to in extensiveness. -Quarterly Review.

sleep, and heard, as she supposed, the tread of cattle near her. She said she was very glad, for she thought the dark creatures she saw moving

about in the dim light must be her father's oxen; A LOST CHILD.

and she called to them very often, “Buck, Bright!' A FEW years ago, in the parish of Sydney, in the but they did not come nearer; and she wondered province of New Brunswick, America, the following said she saw two great black shaggy dogs, which

she did not hear the ox-bell. Another night she circumstance occurred :

she thought were neighbour Hewet's dogs; but A young gentleman who had been out for some when she called them by their names, they stood up days on a hunting or shooting expedition, reached on their hind legs, and looked hard at her, but did the banks of Bear Creek, which he was desirous of not come near her, and soon went away into the crossing, being anxious to make his way home wood: and she knew they were dogs, for that night before night-fall. To his disappointment, the log- she heard them howling. In all probability these bridge which he had passed the day before had been animals were bears, for the woods abounded with carried away by the current, which happened to be those animals, and the stream the hunter bad very strong in that place. Remembering, however, crossed bore the name of Bear Creek; the howling, having noticed a fallen tree across the stream lower most probably, arose from wolves; but her innodown, he pursued his way. Just as he had reached cent heart knew no fear. The day after this she the spot, and was preparing to cross over, his ear found herself near a deserted shanty; the clearing was attracted by the sound of footsteps upon the on which stood was overgrown with strawberries dry sticks; the sound was accompanied by a cau- and raspberry-bushes; and here she remained, tious rustling movement among the thicket of wild picking the berries, and sleeping beneath its shelraspberries that covered the opposite space. With tering roof at night. She led the hunter to her the alertness of a sportsman, anticipating a shot at solitary hut, where he proposed leaving her whilst a deer or bear, his finger rapidly found its way to he went in search of help to convey her home, or to the lock of his rifle; and while his keen eye was some dwelling house; but the little creature clung warily fixed on the bushes, a slight attenuated to him with passionate weeping, and implored him hand, stained purple with the juice of the berries, so pathetically not to leave her again alone in the was quietly raised to reach down a loaded branch of dark lonely forest, that his heart was not proof fruit; another instant, and the fatal ball had been against her entreaties; and, though weary with his lodged in the heart of the unconscious victim. A own wandering, he took the little foundling on his cry of terror and of thankfulness burst from the lips back and proceeded on his journey, occasionally of the hunter as he sprang with eager haste across resting on the fallen timbers to ease him of his the stream and approached the child. It was a burden. The shades of night were closing in fast little girl, apparently not more than eight years old: upon them; and the weary pair were making up her torn garments, soiled hands, dishevelled locks, their minds to pass another night under the shade and haggard face, betrayed the fact that she had of the woods, when the sound of water and the strayed from the forest path, and been lost in the working of mill-wheels broke upon their ears; and trackless wilderness. The child appeared overjoyed soon the light of the last glow of sunset broke at the sight of the stranger, and told her artless tale through the trees in the distance; and the child, with a clearness and simplicity that drew tears with a shout of joy, proclaimed they must be near from the eyes of her preserver, who felt, indeed, as a clearing at last, for she saw light through the if he had been an instrument in the Divine hand, stems of the trees. Gladly did the poor wayworn sent to rescue the forlorn being before him from travellers hail the cheerful sight of the mill and the a melancholy and painful death. Had not the neat log-house beside it; and gladly did the kind loss of the bridge led him to seek another spot inmates of the place receive and cherish the poor whereby to gain the opposite bank, she would in lost child, who had been sought for till hope had all probability have perished in that lonely spot; departed from the hearts of her sorrowing friends,

ANECDOTE OF SIR HENRY FAXSHAWE.

and she was reckoned among the dead. She had A pitying voice shall tell thee, whisperiug low wandered away miles from her home, and been ab

To the still soul within; sent many days; but she had been supplied with

“Only be pure from sin :

“What though of earthly joy thou canst not know ! water and fruits, and her spirits had been wouderfully sustained during her wanderings.

“I feel thy grief_I have shed human tears,

I know thy sorrows well,

Better than thou canst tell,

I know the darkness of thy lonely years.
Poetry.

" Yet tremble not-though there be none beside,

Though the deep waters roll,

Over thy prostrate soul,
In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is Thy God shall be thy stay- for thee He died.”

printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is
printed in Italics at the end.

Miscellaneous.
AN EPITAPH
IN THE CHURCH OF ROMFORD, ESSEX, ON THE DEATH OF

“I hare here made only a nosegay of culled flowers, and TIIE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL SIR ANTHONY COOK, KNIGHT,

have brought nothing of my own, but the string that ties

them.”—Montaigne.
WHO DIED THE 11TH DAY OF JUNE, 1570.
You learned men and syche as learning love
Vouchsafe to reade this rude unlearned verse
For stones are doombe and yet for mannes behove

LADY FANSHAWE relates to her son the following
God lends them tongues somtymes for to rehearse anecdote of his grandfather Sir Henry Fanshawe, who
Sych wordes of worth as worthiest wits may pearce lived in Queen Elizabeth's reign.
Yea stones (oftymes) when bloode and bones be rott He had great honour and generosity in his nature,
Do blase the brute which else might be forgott

and to show you a little part of which, I will tell you And in that hcape of carved stones doth lye

this of him. He had a horse that the then Earl of A worthy knight whose life in learninge ledd

Exeter was much pleased with, and Sir Henry esteemed, Did make his name to mounte above the skie

because he deserved it. My Lord, after some apologs, With sacred skill unto a kinge he redd Whose towarde youthe his famouse praises spredde

desired Sir Henry to let him have his horse, and he And he (therefore) to courtly lyfe was called

would give him what he would ; he replied, “ my lord, Who more desired in study to be stalled

I have no thought of selling him, but to serve you; Philosophy had taught his learned mynde

I bought him of such a person, and gave so much for To stand content with countrye quyet lyfe

him, and that shall be the price to you, as I paid, being Wherein he dwelt as one that was assyned

sixty pieces ;” my Lord Exeter said, " that's too much, To garde the same from sundry stormes of stryfe

but I will give you, Sir Henry, fifty;" to which he And (but when persecuting rage was ryfe)

made no answer. Next day, my lord sent a gentleman His helping hand did never fayle to stay

with sixty pieces, Sir Henry made answer, His countryes staffe but held yet

up

alway No high advance nor office of availe

the price he paid, and once had offered him to my lord Could tempte his thoughte to soare beyond his reache

at, but not being accepted, his price now was eighty;" By bronte of books hee only did assayle

at the receiving of this answer, my Lord Exeter storined, The forte of fame wherto hee made his breache

and sent his servant back with seventy pieces. Sir Henry With tyre of truthe, which God's good worde dothe teachie said, that since my lord would not take him at eighty The wealth he won was due to his degree

pieces, he would not sell him under a hundred pieces, He neyther rose by riche rewarde nor fee

and if he returned with less he would not sell him at And yet althoughe he bare his sayles so lowe

all ;" upon which my Lord Exeter sent one hundred That in his lyfe he did right well bestowe

pieces and had the horse. His children all before their pryme was paste And linckte them so as they be like to laste

LORD ERSKINE'S PONDNESS FOR PUXXixo. What shoulde I say but only this in summe

In this forbidden ground, the region of puns, wit's Beatus sic qui timet Dominum

lowest story, Erskine would disport himself with more That only skill that learninge bears the bell And of that skill I thoughte (poore stoone) to tell

than boyish glee. He fired off a double-barrel when enThat syche as like to use their learninge well

countering his friend, Mr. Maylem, at Ramsgate. The Might reade these lynes and herewith oft repeate

latter observed that his physician had ordered him not How here on earth his gyft from God is greate

to bathe.

“Oh then,” said Erskine, “ you are Maluin Which can employe his learninge to the best

prohibitum.'". My wife, however," resumed the other, Soe did this knighte which here with me doth reste.

* does bathe." 'Oh, then,” said Erskine, perfectly de lighted, "she is ' Malum in se.'"-(Townsend & Lires of

eminent Judges.) " WHERE SHALL I TURN TO FORGET, AND BE N.B.-The Second Volume of this Periodical is now ready ; Covers AT PEACE!"

for binding, with Table of Contents, may be ordered of any Book

seller.
A. II. T.
Ou woman, when thy golden youth is gone, -

CONTENTS.
Swiftly lrath died away,

Page

Par As light from the sweet day,-

The Haunted Moor, (with A Church' Antiquarian....... 190 How shalt thou meet the night which cometh on! Illustration by Pickersgill) 177 A Lost Child.....

The Cinque Ports......

178 | POETRY:

The Sense of Touch .......... 181 When none shall heed thy voice—no earthly friend

Books, and the Reading

An Epitaph...............
Shall whisper in thine ear,

“ Where shall I turn to
Public

183 Words thou wouldst die to hear

Sergeant Talfourd's Vacation

forget, and be at Peace" is “ I love thee still the same, until the end ;" —

187

MISCELLANEOUS............... 19 Where shalt thou turn from the remembered past,

“ that was

191

London Magazine:

A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION

FOR GENERAL READING.

а

THE BALL.

FRANK FAIRLEGH,

splendid action she has, to be sure, and giving tongue OR, OLD COMPANIONS IN NEW SCENES.

all the time too. She's in first-rate training, 'pon my By F. E. S.

word; I thought she'd have sewn me up at one time--the pace was terrific. I must walk into old Coleman's

champagne before I make a fresh start; when I've reCHAP. III.

covered my wind, and had a mouthful of hay and water,

I'll have at her again, and dance till all's blue before I “ Br Jove ! this is hot work!” exclaimed Lawless, give in.". flinging himself down on a sofa so violently, as to make

• My dear fellow," said I, “ you must not dance all an old lady, who occupied the farther end of it, jump to the evening with the same young lady; you'll have her an extent which seriously disarranged an Anglo-Asiatic brother call upon you the first thing to-morrow morning nondescript, believed by her to be a turban, wherewith to know your intentions." she had adorned her aged head. “If I have not been

“He shall very soon learn them, as far as he is congoing the pace like a brick for the last two hours, it's a cerned, then," replied Lawless, doubling his fist. “Let vity ; what a girl that Di Clapperton is to step out !

me have him to myself for a quiet twenty minutes, and

a

VOL. III.

yet.”

I'll send him home with such a face on him, that his of the wax candles, which had not been extinguished in nearest relations will be puzzled to recognise him for its fall, had rolled against the ball-dress of Miss Saville, the next month to come at least. But what do you who happened to be seated next the table, and set it on really mean?"

fire. After making an ineffectual attempt to put it out “That it's not etiquette to go on dancing with one with her hands, she became alarmed, and as I approached, young lady the whole evening; you must ask some one started wildly up, with the evident intention of rushing else."

out of the room. Without a moment's hesitation, 1 “Have all the bother to go over again, eh? what a sprang forward, caught her in my arms, and flinging treat! Well, we live and learn ; it will require a few the worsted shawl over her dress, which was just begin extra glasses of champagne to get the steam up to ning to blaze, enveloped her in it, and telling her if she the necessary height, that's all. And there they are only remained quiet she would be perfectly safe, laid going down to supper; that's glorious !” and away he her on the floor, while I continued to hold the thick bounded to secure Miss Clapperton's arm, while I offered shawl tightly down, till, to my very great delight, I suemine to the turbaned old lady, to compensate for her ceeded in extinguishing the flames. late alarm.

By this time several gentlemen had gathered round After supper the dancing was resumed with fresh us, eager with their advice and offers of assistance. energy, the champagne having produced its usual exhi. Having satisfied myself that the danger was entirely larating effects upon the exhausted frames of the dancers. over, I raised Miss Saville from the ground, and, making Notwithstanding my former repulse, I made a success- my way through the crowd, half led, half carried her to ful attempt to gain Miss Saville's hand for a quadrille, the nearest sofa. After placing her carefully upon it, I though I saw, or fancied I saw, the scowl on Mr. Ver- left her to the care of Mrs. Coleman and Lucy Markham, non's sour countenance grow deeper, as I led her away. while I sought out the turbaned old lady, whose shawl My perseverance was not rewarded by any very interest. I had so unceremoniously made use of, and succeeded in ing results, for my partner, who was either distressingly making my peace with her, though, I believe, in her own shy, or acting under constraint of some kind, made secret breast, she considered Miss Saville's safety dearly monosyllabic replies to every remark I addressed to her, purchased at the expense of her favourite whittle. As and appeared relieved when the termination of the set I approached the sofa again, the following words, in the enabled her to rejoin her grim protector.

harsh tones of Mr. Vernon's voice, met my ear. “Of all the disagreeable faces I ever saw, Mr. Vernon's “ I have ascertained our carriage is here; as soon, is the most repulsive," said I to Coleman; “ were I a therefore, as you feel strong enough to walk, Clara, mis believer in the power of the evil eye,' he is just the dear, I should advise your accompanying me home; quie' sort of looking person I should imagine would possess and rest are the best remedies after such an alarm as this." it. I am certain I have never met him before, and yet, "I am quite ready, Sir," was the reply, in a faint tone strange to say, there is something which appears fami- of voice. liar to me in his expression, particularly when he frowns." Nay, wait a few minutes longer," said Lucy Mark

“He is a savage-looking old Guy,” replied Freddy, ham, kindly; “ you are trembling from head to foot ereti “and bullies that sweet girl shockingly, I can see. I should feel the greatest satisfaction in punching his “ Indeed I am quite strong; I have no doubt I can head for him, but I suppose it would be hardly the cor- walk now," replied Miss Saville, attempting to rise, bu: rect thing on so short an acquaintance, and in my sinking back again almost immediately from faintnex. father's own house too ; eh ?”

“ Can I be of any assistance?" inquired I, comin: “Not exactly,” replied I, turning away with a smile. forward.

When Lawless made his appearance after supper, it “ I am obliged to you for the trouble you have already was evident by his flushed face, and a slight unsteadi- taken, Sir," answered Mr. Vernon, coldly, “but will not ness in his manner of walking, that he had carried his add to it. Miss Saville will be able to proceed with the intentions with regard to the champagne into effect; assistance of my arm in a few minutes.” and, heedless of my warning, he proceeded to lay violent After a short pause the young lady again announred siege to Miss Clapperton, to induce her to waltz with her readiness to depart; and, having shaken hands wi:) him. I was watching them with some little amusement, Mrs. Coleman and Lucy Markham, turned to leave the for the struggle in the young lady's mind between her room, leaning on Mr. Vernon's arm. As I was standinz sense of the proper, and her desire to waltz with an near the door, I stepped forward to hold it open for Honourable, was very apparent, when I was requested them, Mr. Vernon acknowledging my civility br the by Mrs. Coleman to go in search of a cloak appertaining slightest imaginable motion of the head. Miss Saville, to the turbaned old lady, whom I had escorted down to as she approached me, paused for a moment, as if about supper, and who, being delicate in some way or other, to speak, but, apparently relinquishing her intention, required especial care in packing up: Owing to a trifling merely bowed, and passed on. mistake of Mrs. Coleman's, (who had described a red “Well, if it's in that sort of way people in modern worsted shawl as a blue cloth cloak, which mistake I society demonstrate their gratitude for having their had to discover and rectify,) my mission detained me lives saved, I must say I don't admire it," exclaimed some minutes. As I re-entered the ball-room, shawl in Coleman, who had witnessed the cool behaviour of Mr. hand, I was startled by the crash of something heavy Vernon and his ward ; " it may be very genteel, but, falling, followed by a shriek from several of the ladies were I in your place, I should consider it unsatisfactory at the upper end of the room; and on hastening to the in the extreme, and allow the next inflammable youn: scene of action, I soon perceived the cause of their alarm. lady who might happen to attract a spark in my pre

During my absence, Lawless, having succeeded in over- sence, to consume as she pleased, without interfering; coming Miss Clapperton's scruples, had re-commenced and peace be to her ashes!" waltzing with the greatest energy; but unfortunately, It was most fortunate that I happened to have that after going round the room once or twice,“ the pace," thick shawl in my hand,” said I ;“ in another minute te as he called it, becoming faster at every turn, the com- whole dress would have been in a blaze, and it woul! bined effects of the champagne and the unaccustomed have been next to impossible to save her. What courage exercise rendered him exceedingly giddy, and just be- and self-command she showed! she never attempted to fore I entered the room, he had fallen against a small move after I threw the shawl round her, till I told her table supporting a handsome China candelabrum, con- all danger was over." taining several wax lights, the overthrow of which bad Very grand, all that sort of thing," returned Freddy. occasioned the grand crash I had heard. The cause of “but for my own part I should like to see a little mere the shriek, however, still remained to be discovered, and feeling ; I've no taste for your ‘marble maidens;' tber a nearer approach instantly rendered it apparent. One ) always put me in mind of Lot's wife."