It having been proved upon the confessions of the Chevalier de Bourdon, that a criminal attachment existed between him and the queen, who, forgetful of her virtue and her rank, has proposed to Monsieur the Constable to abandon her new allies, on the sole condition that the Chevalier should be restored to her; as by this treaty, signed by her own hand at Tours, she confesses the crime herself, the king, aided by his counsel, deposes the Queen Isabelle, declares her acts null and void, and banishes her for ever from the kingdom." A murmur of surprise and indignation rose from the crowd, when they perfectly understood the purport of the herald's proclamation, which, it will be seen, the depth of the Constable had planned from the queen's admission during their last interview. Nor was their excitement quelled, as a detachment of the guard surrounded the dwelling of Master Leclerc, whilst their captain clamoured loudly at the gate for admission. The gate-keeper had come out upon the ramparts at the beginning of the confusion, and now demanded of the archer what he wanted. "You must open your doors, in the king's name," was the reply. "And why has this order been given ?" asked Leclerc. "Because the queen has men concealed in Paris who are devoted to her cause, and we have orders to find their hiding-places." "You can enter, sir captain," replied Leclerc; "this key will admit you;" and tying his scarf round the key, that it might be easily seen, he threw it down to the archer, who directly opened the door of the house, and went in, accompanied by all his men, except one, whom he left on guard at the entrance. The crowd gathered round the porch, and one or two were about to interrogate the guard, when an amazon forced her way through the mass, and giving the archer a pull, which turned him right round, sharply exclaimed, 66 So, Master Bourdichon, it is you, is it? Inform me, directly, what all this means, and who it is they are looking after." "My wife!" cried the unhappy little man, as he recog nised his helpmate. "Hush! it is Perinet they are seeking." "And wherefore ?" "Because the constable is very anxious to hang him," was the reply, in a low voice. soldiers had somewhat alarmed him, and Perinet had been absent from Paris for several days, without his father receiving any tidings of his safety. He opened one of the windows of his room, and stepped out upon the ramparts. It was a starlight night, and the objects immediately below the wall were plainly visible; but beyond a hundred yards distance all was wrapped in gloom, through which could, however, be discovered the illuminated windows of the churches of St. Sulpice, and St. Germain des Pres, where mass was being performed. As he leaned against the embattlement of the turret, musing upon the occurrences of the evening, he was startled by the challenge of the sentinel on the gate, his practised ear having detected some slight movement below. "Qui vive?" demanded the man sternly. "A bourgeois of Paris," was the reply. "You cannot enter," returned the soldier; "it is the order of the constable." "Hold!" cried Leclerc, "I should know that voice: He is an acquaintance, Olivier, and I will answer for his entrance. Tell him I will open the wicket for him." The sentinel conveyed the intimation of Leclerc to the stranger, as the former descended to the gate. In a minute or two he returned, followed by another person wrapped in a cloak. "Is this new comer really one of your friends, monsieur ?" demanded the patrol, approaching Master Leclerc. "It is all right," was the reply, "and I will be answerable for him." The sentinel appeared satisfied, and continued his round, whilst Leclerc entered his house with the stranger. He closed the windows and the shutters with apparent caution; and then the visitor threw off his cloak and hat, and the father and son were together-for it was Perinet. "Once more then, my son," exclaimed the old man, embracing him, " you are beneath my roof. I have been tortured with suspense, Perinet, during your absence; a hundred silly fears have destroyed my peace. But you must pardon the inquietude of a father, for I have but you in the world to love." The armourer knelt at the old man's feet, who raised him tenderly. "You have done well to come to my house this night, Perinet," continued Leclerc; "mischief is abroad; the "Miserable pigmy!" cried Dame Bourdichon, bestow-city is in a perturbed state, and I know that your young ing upon him a cuff which nearly knocked him through blood is ardent and impatient. You are not, I trust, the door-way; 66 you have betrayed him, then!" going to return home." "Wife! wife!" exclaimed the luckless bourgeois, "I couldn't help it. They took me into the châtelet, and tied me down upon an iron bed; and in two minutes the plate got so hot, that in comparison to it, the fire of the infernal regions was as mild as a summer breeze! I tell you, you would have betrayed your father and mother in such a strait." Dame Bourdichon was about to seize the halberd from her husband, and inflict upon him summary punishment, when the archers re-appeared from the house, having discovered no one beyond the usual inmates of the dwelling. The shrew fell back at their approach, and the whole body marched away, Master Bourdichon praying inwardly that something might occur which should empower him to send his wife into the châtelet. In another quarter of an hour, all was again tranquil; the crowd had returned to their homes, and the band of soldiers proceeded to read the proclamation in another part of the city. But a light still burnt in the chamber of Master Leclerc, for his mind was ill at ease, and he was pacing his room in extreme inquietude. The visit of the "I came hither, my father, to beg an asylum for the night." "There is a bed ready for you in the next chamber. But why," continued Leclerc, "are your features so sombre and pensive? they are usually joyous and laughing when you are here." Nothing, my father-nothing has occurred, that I am aware of," replied the armourer, hesitating and confused. "I believe you," continued Leclerc; and yet, your apparent agitation has somewhat alaimed me. It is not an hour since, that the archers of the constable came to this house, in search of some one whose name I could not learn." Well, my father," replied Perinet, "it could not be me--I have done nothing; and have moreover been several days absent from Paris. What has alarmed you?” "I know you were punished by D'Armagnac-it is the talk of the city," said Leclerc. "Did you not threaten him at the time with hints of future vengeance?" "I, my father! no, I was silent," answered Perinet, though the tone in which he spoke belied his words. "But you must excuse mee-I am fatigued, and would seek repose, for the night is now far advanced." As he spoke, he rose from his seat and took a lamp from the table. His father embraced him anew, and gazed at him fondly as he entered his chamber. Then placing the keys of the Porte St. Germain under his pillow, he threw himself upon his bed, and soon fell fast asleep. "So," muttered Perinet, as he heard the steady breathing of his father, "he sleeps calmly, and I am watching to bring eternal shame upon his grey hairs-I am here to betray-to ruin him! Vengeance, love, ambition-fiendish passions! ye have triumphed over every other feeling; ye have made me your puppet, and I dare not shrink from my task. The troops of Burgundy are by this time within earshot of the walls, and the keys that shall admit them are beneath my father's pillow. Demons of crime! give me stedfastness of purpose, or the violent throbbings of my heart will waken him, and all will be lost. Haughty D'Armagnac-the red cross which I swore you should wear, will be dearly bought; but you shall still carry it." ALBERT. APRIL. BY A BOTANIST.* " April comes, And lightly o'er the living scene, Scatters her richest, tenderest green."-Gray. APRIL is a tearful month, full of gleams and showers-like hope struggling with adversity, but with victory in view. It is not redundant in flowers, but scatters with a lavish hand those that shelter under its verdant wing. Tired with the dreary monotony of winter, who, like some scolding tyrant, still turns round again to repeat his threats, when we are chuckling at the turn of his back-so even in April, hailing as we do the bright green she daily spreads upon the meadows and within the woods, in the midst of our pleasures a storm of hail or rain o'erwhelms us in its dripping embraces again, and compels us to look out for shelter in common with the bee and the too venturesome butterfly. But suppose a morning of unclouded brightness, the woods vocal with the thrush and the blackbird, and all nature rejoicing in the genial rays of the sun. With such a "bespeak" from the weather-office, we can "look out" with some pleasure and alacrity, and gaining a beautiful and secluded locality, notice leisurely the gems of creation before us. We have reached a little valley among the hills, where, emerging from rocky woods, a brawling streamlet urges its froward course, splashing and murmuring over the round stones in its bed, and then quietly stealing into green meadows, beneath a rough veteran of the forest, overturned by the winter's storm, that now serves a temporary purpose as a rustic foot bridge. Looking up into a vista of the wood, the Primroses now appear in their greatest abundance and perfection. What picture can be more pleasing at this season than to behold a tribe of little ones all busied in the wood, each with their hands buried in primroses? On a close inspection, curious varieties are often found, as the umbelled and liver-coloured Primroses, and occasionally the Oxlip, (P. elatior) occur. From the latter, the rich deep-coloured Polyanthuses of the garden are derived, and the curious florist would therefore do well to collect any singular varieties of Primrose or Oxlip met with in the woods. In a similar way the singularly-varied blossoms of the favourite tribe of Auriculas have all been derived from a small pale-coloured plant of little beauty found on the Alps. Raw meat applied to the roots of Auriculas is accounted very beneficial to them, and Withering suggests that a similar application would increase the size and beauty of Polyanthuses. This is indeed only an extension of the principle of manuring, which affects even wild flowers very remarkably. Wherever we now look around, the border of the wood is empurpled with violets. But we had better rest contented with the mere sight of them; they are "dog-violets”—odour *H. Lees; in the Cheltenham Looker-on. less. Strange, that amidst the storms of March the sweet violet should present itself; and as bright days arise when we might expect additional odours from the same tribe, a race suddenly appear simulating the beauty of their precursors, but entirely scentless-so that we contemptuously turn away from what without such a prepossession we might have regarded with pleasure and satisfaction. No one likes deception. is no uncommon thing in life, but it is not the less disagreeable To make a promise to the eye or ear, and break it to the hope, for that. The delicate Anemone bending before the wind inspires far different emotions-it now whitens o'er the damp copse, closing its petals at sunset, or before rain, and expanding them in the fervid rays of noon. A plant with remarkable thyrsus-like purple agglomerated flowers, now present itself often in great abundance (for its habits are social) on the stony barren banks of brooks and rivers. Though well known of any other British plant, it flowers so early and in such low in summer by its enormous leaves, which are larger than those places as to be seldom noticed, though when found by no means inconspicuous, and offering an agreeable aliment to the bees. This is the Butterbur, (Tussilago petasites), whose leaves not appearing till after the flowers have faded, have several times been used by us as parasols in summer botanical excursions, which their size and the length as well as thickness of their petioles well fits them for. The flowers of the Hybrid Butterbur, which is rarer than the common kind, have a peculiarly elegant aspect. Another curious plant, only seen at this season, and that but rarely, is the Toothwort, (Lathræa squamaria). It is entirely confined to the sheltered woody spots, its roots (considered by some botanists as parasitical) almost always entangled among the roots of trees. Its yellow sickly-looking stalk, clothed only with white tooth-like scales, and its very pale purple flowers, impart to it a singular aspect, and it might easily be passed over at a little distance as a dead or dying flower. I once noticed it in rather a curious locality -the lawn in front of Earl Mountnorris's mansion at Arely, on the roots of lime-trees. This shows that the plant might easily be introduced into grounds or gardens, where it would flourish beneath the shelter of most deciduous trees. One of the characteristics of April are its golden Celandines, (Ranunculus ficaria). A beam of light flashes from the orb of day as he looks forth from a tempestuous passing cloud, and at once in the moist verdant meadow a thousand golden stars spread out their rays as if at the lifting of an enchanter's wand. Sweetly are they contrasted with the argent stars of the "crimson-tipped Daisy ;" and here and there with maculated leaf uprises the bright purple spike of the Early Purple Orchis, (O. mascula). In the marsh, the splendid Marsh Marigold, (Caltha palustris) presents her specious glories, and far and wide are scattered the light purple Cuckoo-flowers, (Cardamine pratensis),— "Wan-hued Lady-smocks, that love to spring Near the swamp margin of some plashy pond ;”— from whence perhaps as we approach, away springs the quacking mallard, or the sable coot ruffles the water as she shuffles off in a long extending line. In moist rocky woods, the Golden Saxifrage now makes a pleasing appearance, the Hawthorn is evidently becoming leafy, and the Wild Cherry beautifully displays its innumerable snowy flowers, and perhaps amidst its branches the newly-arrived nightingale charms the ear with her earliest rapturous melody. In delicacy of aspect, surely no vernal flower can exceed the Wood Sorrel, (Oxalis acetosella), which now appears studding the sides of romantic ravine-like lanes, amidst stones, and moss, and fern, or not unfrequently its triune leaves, (said to have been the original shamrock of St. Patrick,) and white drooping flowers cover over the declining moss-covered trunk of a decrepid tree with a wreath of Nature's own approval. The humbler throng of Flora's train, as the green Mercury, the Dead-nettles, and other plebii, we must now at least leave undescribed-for every day presents some addition to them. Several Ranunculi also now appear; but in a general glance at vegetable nature, they only claim attention when in their perfect culmination, when their golden tints in broad masses or waving lines give a feature to the landscape with the contrasted hues of other objects. Lady-botanists and florists should be now on the alert looking over their pots, mourning over the destruction of winter, replacing the ravages of its icy hand, and giving their poor stunted Geraniums, &c. the benefit of light and air, as well as of a warm shower, should it present itself opportunely. They must also, bonnet on head, "look out" in the garden, remembering that if seeds are to come up they must be first sown, and now is the time to begin if not begun before. The Chinese Primrose, (Primula Sinensis) now looks well, exhibited in full flower in the windows of those who happen to possess it. If fine days, (which however in this fickle climate it is impossible to guarantee) should continue in any succession, the gardens will be studded with the early vernal flora, the primaveral being hardly yet gone out ;-wall-flowers, Anemones, Early Tulips, Ranunculi, Narcissi, Jonquils, Hepaticas, Gentianellas, and other hardy herbaceous plants, being in full bloom by the middle of the month. In the rustic garden, the Crown Imperial, (Fritillaria Imperialis) and its varieties, now claim a passing attention with its pendant coronals; and what a beautiful appearance is presented on looking WITHIN the flower, and perceiving a lovely milkwhite globule in the nectary, at the base of each petal, which retains its place till the flower begins to wither, when it dries up, unless some bird has previously quaffed the delicious draught, leaving only a depression to mark its former position. New Books. GODFREY MALVERN; OR, THE LIFE OF AN AUTHOR. BY THOMAS MILLER. THIS is a new enterprise in the shilling number school, characteristically embellished, and altogether possessing a lively come-and-read-me air, likely to insure popularity. The portion before us, No. I., is occupied with introductions of the dram. pers., as Godfrey Malvern lamenting the untimely death of his father by a steam-packet explosion, the village rector and his friend, Gregory Gruff, (the latter an original, by the way,) a purse-proud squire and his lovely daughter, and sundry sketches from the rustic population of Suttoncum-Bottesford; the main incident being the election of Godfrey to the office of parish schoolmaster. The characters and scenery are living and fresh, the sentiment healthy, and the humour quiet and sly, but sarcastic for good purpose. In painting village scenes, Thomas Miller is unrivalled; he occupies the same position in describing rural life that Dickens takes in our metropolitan phases; and Boz we know to be at home on Saffron Hill, but strangely abroad in the " bosky bourn." By-and-by, Mr. Miller will, doubtless, bring his author hero to London, the great mart for genius and talent, imaginary or real, and whence the artificial character of this pseudo-literary age must be sketched. But the author of A Day in the Woods has resided long enough in the metropolis to paint some of the struggles and vicissitudes which colour all things here, and to depict the various passions which rage in this vast hotbed of refined existence. Leaving these anticipations, then, let us glance at our author's present success, as in the following pair of village gossips : "Facing the low and rough-hewn stone wall which divided the church-yard from the high road, stood a row of thatched cottages, their fronts overlooking the burial ground, from the opposite ascent. Before these white-washed and picturesque dwellings, a green sward went sloping down to the road-side, from which it was divided by a low square-clipped hedge, and a little water-course, that went brawling into the beck of a distant valley. The stream was crossed by a rude barked beam of wood, called by the inhabitants 'the brigg.' On this green the cottage children were playing, and their noise had become at last so obstreperous as to bring out a woman, who came from the door with her knitting in her hand, and calling to one of her boys, said, 'Hush, Billy; how can you blate after that fashion, when you see the young gentleman still stands crying in the grave-ground? Come in, you little limb, or I'll break every bone in your body! I believe you would hev your rant out if your own father was laid out stiff and stark up-stairs! Come in, or I'll fetch you with a rattle to your heels, that I will.' "That's right, Mrs. Crooks,' exclaimed her neighbour, as she came out from the adjoining door, giving her own sunburut boy such a thump on the back, as sent him stumbling and bellowing over the threshold. I've called to my little brute, until I'm as hoarse as an old crow; and he teeks no more notice of me than a stone. But I'll break his back before I sleep, if the Lord spares me. I'm sure I could hardlings tell whether I were spinning or not, only for feeling the flax slip through my fingers as it came off the rock; they made such a ran-tan of a din, enough to deafen the dead. Poor dear young gentleman!' added she, changing her tone, and looking towards the church-yard,' he stands yonder yet, moping like a hen at moulting time. God help us all! it was a shocking death, to be tossed up like a shuttle-cock, one moment alive and well, and to come down the next, so mauled, that the mother who bore him, had she been alive, wouldn't hev known her own again.' "Very shocking, indeed,' replied her neighbour; ' it 'ell be a warning to me never to trust mysen on board a steampacket again the longest day I hev to live. Abraham Clark said he heard the explosion in White-Owl-Wood, though he was felling a large tree at the very same time. He declares it was just like thunder. And them as were there, say the poor dead gentleman went clean out of sight, and I dare say it's true enough, for they could'nt see for the smoke and the smother when the boiler bursted.' : her gossip. I never heard of so many accidents. My John "These are very shocking times, neighbour,' answered says, an' he's very 'cute-that the country's ower thickly stocked, and that the great men in Lunnun pay the railways and steam-boats, so much for everybody they kill and that it comes cheaper in the end than emigrating 'em to foreign parts abroad. Marry, I hardly know what to think; but what wi' these new poor-laws pinching 'em one way, and the railroads killing 'em another, I think there will be nobody left soon, but such stay-at-home bodies as you and me.' "I don't know whatever they mean doing with us,' said Mrs. Crooks: flour's risen twopence a stone this week, and our miller says it 'ell be higher yet;' then looking towards the churchyard, she added, 'Poor young man! he stands there yet. I went down to the Brown Cow this afternoon, for a gill of ale, for I made but a poor dinner, and Mrs. Tomlinson says he's hardling eaten the weight of an ounce since his father was killed. And that when she said to the young gentleman, (she's a very feeling woman, though she won't trust anybody,) as it would be shocking news to take home to his mother, that he sighed as if his heart would break, and said, I have no mother that I know of-nor no home now;' I'm sure the tear stood in her eye when she telled me, and he said nor no home now.' Poor young man!'" ends to addle (earn) any; replied the other. I feel very "And happen no money much, nor no trade at his finger. sorry when any of your bettermost-sort of folk come down in the world, because you see it goes harder with them, than it does with the like of us. I'm sure I would give him a bed, if he wouldn't mind sleeping wi' our Jack; but happen he's not used to a chaff bed and a sacking tick, and Jack's a terrible kicker in his sleep; and chaff breeds a many fleas, and my good man snores dreadfully; and we hev only one bedstead which we sleep on 'weresens, (ourselves) and Jack says the rattons (rats) run over him, and when it rains it comes in where he sleeps, so he wouldn't hev over much comfort. But I mun be off and put my greens in the pot, else when my old man comes home to his supper, all the fat 'ell be in th' fire.' So separated the two gossips." Next is a glimpse of a character we have already admired: "Gregory Gruff, although an oddity and an original, was at the bottom one of the truly good-hearted. No weathercock, however, changed oftener within twelve hours, than did Gregory. Every day was he starting some new hobby, and at times he had a dozen of these Uncle-Tobyisms ready saddled at once, and mounted whichever his whim of the moment selected. But the week before, he had forsworn all animal food, and now patronised the growers of great gooseberries, ponderous potatoes, cabbages, turnips, &c.,-had given up reading every thing, save pastoral poetry,--had mounted a green coat, and struck out the cattle from a rich landscape by Gainsborough-argued that crimes of all deuominations arise from eating animal food, and grounded his reasons upon the very food itself first springing from murder,-talked of making laws for hanging butchers, and transporting sportsmen,-rearing poultry only for their eggs, cows for their milk, and sheep for their wool. Pigs he would have annihilated. This was his last new hobby; an older one, and one which never forsook him, was his belief in nativities. He had met with some travelling impostor, who for ten guineas had 'cast his planet ;'-had foretold all that would happen during his life. This, Gruff by great exertion contrived to fulfil :he looked at the scroll every morning, and by night so managed matters as to make it come true to the very letter. If he were to quarrel with a friend, or change his residence, or meet a stranger, or hear sudden news, or lose money, all was sure to be done as foretold; for the impostor was a wag in his way, and had chalked out for Gregory work enough. Then his motto was, 'Never remain idle,' and the mischief he got into merely to keep himself fully employed, was truly wonderful. He was as crusty as old port, and in every way as warm and good. His whole life seemed spent in quarrelling and making it up,-in grumbling and doing good, and in abusing men to make them better: if he could find no fault he made one. He cut a hole in an old coat, merely for the love of disputing the damage done; then ended by buying the wearer a new one. Added to this, he was rich, a bachelor, and the true friend of the poor." We cannot leave without quoting a specimen or two in justification of our high commendation of Mr. Miller's excellence in rural sketches: "A village, after all we have written in praise of the country, is but a dull place to pass any length of time in, unless the mind can find amusement among the beauties of nature; then it may be made a paradise: and the days would have hung heavily on Godfrey's hands, had not the kindhearted old parson planned many a little excursion for his amusement after school-hours, or during the half-holidays. As it was, there were many scenes to visit, lovely spots, such as are to be found only in England ;-woods to wander in, a delicious river to loiter beside, ruins rich in traditions, and remains of Roman encampments; - but where is there a place without such wonders as these? "Some of the surrounding scenery was indeed really beautiful, especially that which stretched southward from the village, and skirted the banks of the river. This was the old man's favourite walk; nor can there be found in the wide domain of England a spot embodying so much of the wild and picturesque, amid scenery which here and there may be called purely pastoral. Beyond the village, and beside the very edge of the common highway, rose a row of goodly and ancient elms, revealing on the one hand farm-houses, cottages, and orchards, and sunny fields that came sloping down to the roadside, rich in corn and clover, and every variety of bladed grass. Here sheep bleated and moved slowly over the rich greenery of the fields, shaking their jingling bells as they fed on the flowery herbage, and cropped from the little hillocks the sweet and savoury thyme. There lowed the wellfed oxen as they grazed knee-deep in luxuriant pastures, or chewing the cud, rested with their brown and glossy hides halfburied in the tall and varied flowers of summer. Further on, the grey old waggon went rumbling over the glebe, and the crack of the driver's whip mingling with the heavy creaking of the wheels, gave life and sound to the scene. Then came the human figures that dotted the landscape,-women stooping and at work in the fields, weeding or planting, in costumes of all colours, russet, red, and blue, and grey, and men moving to and fro, like forms seen in dreams, now hidden by trees and hedges, then again bursting upon the view silent as shadows, yet breaking the still blue of heaven, and the sleeping sunshine of the earth, with all the imagery, and beauty, and colour of real country life. On the other hand rolled the dreamy river, broad and bright, beneath its fringe of silvery shivering willows, which ever as the breeze blew upturned the white lining of their leaves to the light, and threw a deep shadow over the crisped ripples, which came rolling out of the path of the sunshine, then slept murmuring at their feet. Far across the river rose the ruins of a grey old castle, its tall turrets half buried in ivy; while on its ridgy battlements-where once warden and archer passed, their armour flashing back the blaze of sunshine, — the wild and fragrant wall-flower now waved. Then dim and distant rose the tapering spire from a neighbouring market-town, overlooking the tall chimneys, which pointed out its stifling manufactories; while over all stretched a cloudy curtain of smoke, dim, silvery, and mist-like, yet all in keep The Squire's daughter is a charming sketch: "The Squire was very proud of his daughter; still, the certainty that she would be rich caused him sadly to neglect her, and to pay but little regard to what the world calls 'accomplishments.' She could sing sweetly, for her voice was naturally soft; could play tolerably well on the piano,but her father was no judge of music; could paint flowers, and write bad verses, and yet possessed a high and natural appreciation of good poetry. She loved birds, squirrels, and rabbits; for her heart was full of affection. But the deep well of her mind was almost utterly neglected. She knew but little of the world, and the deficiency had both its good and evil; for her thoughts and feelings were all honest. She had never been taught to smile when her heart was sad, to pay empty and unmeaning compliments, nor affect what she never felt. Thus, if, on the one hand, she was ignorant of much that is truly good and great in the world, on the other she was also unconscious of its hollow plausibilities and shadowy pretensions,-awful eruptions, which, instead of the warm and cheering fire of the heart, heave up a black and bitter lava, that burns for a time with an unnatural heat, and at last settles down into a hard, hateful, and encrusted mass.' The Schoolmaster's election is capitally told: here is a poser for one of the election-committee: "What year, within the last twenty years, did corn fetching with the scene." the highest price?' inquired an old farmer. That year you ground up all your beans, and sold them for the best wheaten flour,' replied Gregory Gruff, who had long been fidgetting in his chair. That year you lost your law-suit with the miller; you remember it well enough. You'll be asking next, how much malt Oliver Cromwell's father consumed at a brewing; or, whether Queen Elizabeth cut her finger-nails with a pair of scissors, or a penknife; as if it mattered a farthing whether she bit them off, or not, when they had grown too long. Bah! humbug! all books that contain such like questions, ought to be burnt. Ask your children such things as never were, nor ever will be found out, if you like :-something that will set them a-thinking; and then you will begin to do them good. But such stuff as they put in books, nowa-days, is neither my eye, nor my elbow.' After this most original outbreak, Gruff sat down more at his ease, and busines in proceeded." The present Number has two attractive whole-page illustrations, by Phiz; the churchyard, and inn-parlour, with the election-committee. In the former, the artist has, we think, borrowed from himself; the humour of the latter is cleverly dovetailed with the text. In short, the entire Number is redolent of freshness and promise. Varieties. Indo-Chinese Drama.-It is somewhat strange, that in the Indo-Chinese countries, although the people are fond of dramatic entertainments, they have no regular theatres, as in Europe. The performers either go to private houses, or perform in public, trusting for remuneration to the voluntary donations of the spectators. Length of the Law.-Some faint idea of the bulk of the English records may be obtained, by adverting to the fact, that a single statute, the Land Tax Commissioners' Act, passed in the first year of the reign of George IV., measures, when unrolled, upwards of 900 feet, or nearly twice the length of St. Paul's Cathedral, within the doors; and if ever it should become necessary to consult the fearful volume, an able-bodied man must be employed during three hours in coiling and uncoiling its monstrous folds! The Candleberry Myrtle grows along the coast of Southern Africa, on dry sandy plains, exposed to the sea air, where hardly any other plant will vegetate. The wax is in the form of a rough crust investing the berries, and is extracted by boiling them in water, straining the decoction, and suffering it to cool. It is of a greenish colour, and possesses the hardness, without the tenacity, of bees'-wax. When made into candles, it gives a very fine light. Exploration of Africa.-Some of the mightiest monarchs of antiquity, as Cambyses and Alexander, were battled in their attempts to overcome the barrier of the awful solitudes of Africa; so that the failure of adventurers of our times will not excite surprise. Herodotus gives the narrative of an expedition undertaken by some young Nassamonians of distinction, inhabitants of a territory occupying part of the modern Tripoli. They described themselves as passing through cultivated tracks, then through a region inhabited by wild beasts, and lastly arriving at the great desert of sand. Having reached one of its verdant oases, and begun to pluck the fruit which was growing on the trees, they were surprised by a party of little black men, who took them prisoners, and conveyed them to a city far in the interior, traversed by a river flowing from west to east. These particulars, notwithstanding the sceptical comments of M. Gosselin, seem strongly to point to central Africa, and the course of the Niger. Handel.-In the library at Calwich Abbey, near Ashbourn, is preserved a memorial a prince might covet-namely, a large collection of the original manuscript music of Handel. The great harmonist was a frequent visitant at Calwich, and a fine-toned organ, chosen by him, yet stands, surmounted by his bust, in the drawing-room of the mansion. On this instrument, Handel was accustomed to perform; and there is, perhaps, nothing romantic in the assumption, that to his occasional residence in this calm seclusion, surrounded by the beauties of nature, and in the enjoyment of social intercourse with esteemed and admiring friends, we are indebted for some of his most sublime compositions.-Derby Reporter. Glastonbury, Somerset, contains the small remains of the most extensive monastery in the kingdom; which, with its various gardens and offices, covered 60 acres, supported 500 monks, and enjoyed a revenue of £25,000. Even the church attached to it rivalled the largest of the English cathedrals. Plundered by the reforming avidity of Henry VIII. it was successively demolished; and only a few fragments of extreme beauty are left. Rebuilding St. Paul's Cathedral.-In Fulcher's Pocketbook for the present year, appears a letter, stated to be copied from some MSS. in the British Museum, relating how one Philip Wood came from Sudbury to London, and obtained employment as a carver of the interior of St. Paul's Cathedral. The letter is dated "September 3, 1669," and the writer states that he used to go to the churchyard of St. Paul, and "watch the building;" and then follows the well-known anecdote of Wren telling the man to carve the sow and pigs as a specimen of his skill. We suspect the genuineness of this letter, because the commission for rebuilding the cathedral was not issued till 1673, and Wren did not commence clearing the site till 1675, or six years after the date of the letter, which represents the architect, foreman, and workmen, busy upon the new edifice. There is also a reference to "Mr. Addison, or Addington," not our elegant essayist, for he was not born till 1672. The letter is certainly interesting as a record of the writer's perseverance, but this error of date leads us to suspect its authenticity, which appears to have been implicitly admitted wherever it has been quoted. Baldness. A correspondent of the Medical Gazette observes that "the great prevalence of baldness may be observed by any person looking from an eminence upon a crowd of persons in those places where it is necessary to take off the hats, (as in the pit of a theatre). A vast majority of the individuals, whose scalps are denuded, seem scarcely more than thirty years of age. When we look at persons fifty years of age, and upwards, and contrast them with younger men, we find the latter more frequently affected by loss, and extensive loss, of hair. How, then, are we to account for the fact? Some assert that the lately gradually increasing variability of climate may conduce to the afflic tion; others, the custom of wearing hats, lawyers' wigs, &c., and thus preventing the access of the air; while a third set declare the prevalent baldness to be attributable to the modern custom adopted by gentlemen of wearing long hair. Concerning the two first explanations, I shall say nothing; but, regarding the third, the fact that women, who seldom have their hair submitted to the scissors, rarely suffer loss of hair, would contradict it." The question remains unsolved. Early Rising. (By Herrick.) Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see And sung their thankful hymns. Weights and Measures.-The Report of the scientific com. mission, consisting of Professor Airey, Sir John Herschel, Mr. Lubbock, and other distinguished savans, appointed to inquire into the present standard weights and measures, proposes, among others, three important points:-1. A system of decimal computation, to be adopted in all weights, measures, and moneys. 2. The abolition of troy weight, and substitution of avoirdupois; and 3. correction of the local standards of the kingdom, which are at present highly imperfect, as also the laws relating to their examination by inspectors.-Globe. The Largest Apartment in the World appears to be the riding-school at Moscow, which is 506 feet 10 inches long, and 133 feet broad, without pillar or intervening prop of any kind; whilst the famous town-hall of Padua, which used to be considered the largest, is only 240 feet long, and 80 feet broad. Westminster Hall has been often stated to be the largest, whereas it is only 275 feet by 75 feet; and King's College, Cambridge, 291 feet by 45 feet, and 78 feet high. "The Exile of Siberia."-Madame Cottin's touching story of Elizabeth has only one mis-statement worth noticing, i. e. the scenery represented as mountainous, with avalanches falling, &c.; whereas, Siberia is, in reality, more free from mountains than even monotonous France. It is one of the flattests tracts of our globe. Lobsters form, next to timber, one of the greatest articles of Norwegian export. On the rocky coasts of Christiansand they are found in greater numbers than in any other part of the world; and from Bergen, which lies further to the north, as many as 260,000 pairs have been exported in one year. The fish-trade of Norway is altogether very considerable; and without aid from Bergen no Lent could be kept in Italy and Spain. Mining. In 1829, a share in a certain mine, no great distance from Falmouth, was considered to be worth not more than £1.; and a family possessing eleven shares allowed them to merge with those of the other "adventurers" as en. tirely worthless. In 1835, one share in the same mine could not be purchased for less than 2000 guineas! Fire-At Bergen, before each house stands a cask of water, which, on an alarm of fire, is instantly seized upon, and hurried upon a sledge to the scene of conflagration. London: Published for the Proprietors, by W. BRITTAIN, Paternoster Row. Edinburgh: JOHN MENZIES. Glas gow: D. BRYCE. Printed by J. Rider, 14, Bartholomew Close, London. |