Proceed from her, which did to him appear A friend of his said, he was much misled He takes his sword, and son, then standing by, And vows, unless she tell him whence she Was from his fellows snatch'd away, and drownd By the same spirit, his body no where found, The ninth book is entitled Gabriel, or the Angel; and professes to tell Of Robin Goodfellow, and of fairies, With many other strange vagaries Done by hobgoblins. It will be perceived from the foregoing specimens, that the pauses are, as in end of the line; that the versification blank verse, studiously remote from the is natural but vulgar, easy but insipid, fluent but diffuse; and that it is not as a mine of diction, but only of fable, that this poem can be consulted with advantage by future writers. The notes, on the contrary, contain much curious information, marvellous anecdotes from forgotten writers, and moral common places robed in that solemn antique garb which secures to usual truths a more than usual attention. The firmness of the author's faith, will, in these days out quoting his own words: book iv, of scepticism, hardly be imagined with, P. 219. "I began the former tractate with the hierarchy of angels, their three classes, or ternions, their order and concatena tion, in which I have proceeded with that plainness, that I hope they need no further demonstration. As also of the opinion of the Sadducees and others, who will allow no spirits or angels at all, their weak and unmomentary tenets Angels were the first creatures God being with much facility removed. with the light to serve God, who is the made, created pure as the light, ordained lord of light. They have charge to con duct us, wisdom to instruct us, and grace to preserve us. They are the saints' tutors, heaven's heralds, and the body's and soul's guardians. Furthermore, as Origen saith, every one's angel that hath guided him in this life, shall at the last day produce and bring his charge forth, whom he hath governed. They, at all times, and in all places, behold the ma jesty of the heavenly Father. And, according to saint Augustin, they were created immortal, beautiful, innocent, good, free, and subtile, thus resembling afar off the essence of God himself,” Extracts 1810.] Extracts from the Portfolio of a Man of Letters. FIGS. NICS have, from the earliest times, of the palate. Shaphan, the scribe, who made, for the use of the young king Josiah, that compendium of the law of Moses, which is called Deuteronomy, enumerates among the praises of his country, (Deuteronomy viii. 8,) that it was a land of figs. And the poetic spirit of the prophet Amos was formed (Amos vii. 14,) under the shade of figtrees, whose fruit it was his profession to gather. The Athenians valued figs at least as highly as the Jews. Alexis, (in the Deipnosophists) calls figs "a food for the gods." Pausanias says, that the rewarded by Athenian Phytalus was Ceres for his hospitality with the gift of the first fig-tree. Some foreign guest, no doubt, transmitted to him the plant, which he introduced in Attica. It succeeded so well there, that Athenæus brings forward Lynceus and Antiphanes, (liv. xiv. p. 485,) vaunting the figs of Attica as the best on earth. Horap pollo, or rather his commentator Bolzani, says, that when the master of a house is going a journey, he hangs out a broom of fig-boughs for good luck. Our forefathers preferred a broom of birch; as if, in the master's absence, it was well to remember the rod. A taste for figs marked the progress of refinement in the Roman empire. In Cato's time, but six sorts of figs were known; in Pliny's, twenty-nine. (liv. xiii. c. 7.) The sexual system of plants seems first to have been observed in the fig-tree; whose artificial impregnation is taught by Pliny, under the name caprification. In modern times, the esteem for figs has been still more widely diffused. When Charles V. visited Holland in 1540, a Dutch merchant sent him, as the greatest delicacy which Ziriksee could offer, a plate of figs. The gracious emperor dispelled for a moment the fogs of the climate, by declaring that he had never eaten figs in Spain with superior pleasure. Carter, (p. 367) praises the figs of Malaga; Tournefort, (vol. i. p. 19) those of Marseilles; Ray, (p. 486) those of Italy; Brydone, (p. 127) those of Sicily; Dumont, (p. 150) those of Malta'; Browne, (p. 144) those of Thessaly; Pococke, (vol. vi. p. 276) those of Mycone; De la Mottraye, (vol. i. p. 431) (p. 136) (p. 107) those of Cairo; and lady Wort- It remains for Jamaica, and the contiguous islands, to acquire that celebrity for the growth of figs, which yet attaches to the eastern archipelago; to learn to dry them as in the Levant; and to supply the desserts of the food-fanciers of London. CURIOUS TRADITION. Previously to the dissolation of monasteries in England by king Henry VIII., there was at Cardigan an image of the Virgin, which was much resorted to by pilgrims, even from distant parts, and produced very considerable revenues to the church. Tradition asserted, that it had been originally discovered swimming in the river Teivi, with a lighted wax taper in its hand; that after its removal, this taper burnt for several years without any diminution of its substance; but that on some persons committing perjury, in swearing upon it, it was suddenly extinguished, and never burned afterwards. Hence it became esteemed an invaluable relic; and, as such, was declared by the monks entitled to receive adoration. The dissolution of monasteries, of course, put an end to its influence; and the first information was laid against it by Dr. William Barlow, bishop of St. Davids, who at that time professed the principles of protestantism, but who, a few years afterward, recanted, and again became a catholic. vicar. of his curious letThe following is a copy ter, and of the consequent examinations In Barlow's letter, he earnestly respecting the taper, of the prior, and the requests to have the see of his bishopric removed to Caermarthen. The year in which the letter was written is not inserted, but there is reason to suppose it was 1537. "After my right humble commendations, the benevolent goodness of your lordship toward me appeareth both by your lordship's lettres, and by relacion of M. Doct. Barnes concernynge soch somes somes of moneye as I am yndebted to the kyngs highnes favorably to be res pited, though I canot in this, nor in other your manyrold benefits, condignly make recompensation, yet the little that I maye to the utmost of my pore possibiliye my unfayued endeavor shal not fayle faychefully to pfine. Concernynge your lordships letres, addressed for the taper of Haverforde West, ere the receyte of them I had done reformacon, and openly detected the abuse therof; all pties which before tyme repugned penitently reconcyled. "But sythen I chanced upon another taper of most great credyte and of more shameful detestacon, called our ladyes taper of Cardigan, which I haue sente here to your lordship with convenyent instructyons of that develish delusyon. For where I admonished the canons of Sainte Davyds, accordinge to the kyngs instructions in no wyse to set forth fayned reliques for to allure people to supersticion, neither to advance the vayne observacons of unnecessary holy dayes, abrogated by the kings supreme authoritye, at Sainte Davids daye the people wilfully solemnized the feast; then reliques were set forth, which I caused to be sequestered and taken away, detayning them in my custody untill I may be advertised of your lordship's pleasure. The parcels of the reliques are these: two Leedes of syluer plate, enclosinge two Totten skulles stuffed with putrified clowtes. Itent: two arme bones, and a worm eaten booke coucred with syluer plate. Of the canons showinge negli. gence towarde the prefermente of Gods word, and what ungodly disguysed sermone was preached in the cathedrall churche in the feast of Innocents last passed, they being present with an au. ditory of or inj hundred psons, this bearer a nynister of the same church shall forder declare, hauynge pte of the said sermone in wrytinge apparente to be showed. Forthermore, though I myght seme more presumptuous then neadeth to moue any sute for the translacion of the see from Sainte Daivds to Kermerddyn, yet my good lorde the juste equytye thereof and expedyente utilytie enforceth me so to presume, consyderinge that a better deade for the Comen wealth and dew reformacon of the who e mysordered dyecesse cannot be purposed as well for the preferremente of Gods word, as for the abolyshinge of all antichristian suspicion, and therein the kyngs supreme maiestie to be amplyfied with the universall comoditye of his graces subjects there reseaunte, annovenge non with discomoditve excepte pehaunce foure or fyve prsons will surmyse their pryvate pleasor to be aneyed in pfytinge the comon wealth. "And the cause ptiye that moueth me thus with tortunitye to be urgente in ny sute ys the over sumptuous expences that the canons haue incrysed in reedi fyenge the body of theyre cathedrall church, which ere it be fully fyneshed will utterly consume the small residew of the church treasure remayninge in their custody, without any profitable effecte savinge to nourish clatteringe conventycles of barbarous rura!! psons: the deformed habitacons of the pore collegyans in such beggerly ruyne and go wretchedly decayed that honestye will abhoorre to beholde them, which to remedy, pleaseth the kyngs hyglines of his gracious bountye to graunt the grey freres place at Kermerddyn, where his moste noble pgenitor and graundefather lyeth honorably entiered, lycensynge the see thydder to be translated, which (his grace pleasor condescendinge) maye be pformed without any chargeable difficultie. And not only the pore collegyans, but also the canons residentaryes, myght be there pleasantly enhabited with ha bundant pvision of all necessarie com. moditie, continually hauinge opportune occasion to pite the kyngs subjects, whereas at St. Davids lurking in a desolate corner, they that be best mynded can do veraye tle good in case they wold, sauyinge to themselues. And concernynge the freres, that they nether shuld be agreeved with any piudice, I dowte not but under the kyngs hyghnes favor of soch pierrements as I haue of his grace, sutliciently to pvyde for evry one of them that shall be founde an able mynister of Christes church in com, petente lernynge and honest conversacon, Moreover, the sayde towne of Kermerddyn beinge the most frequented place and indiferently situate in the myddle of the dyocesse, I myght thene, (and God willinge so I wolde) settle my contynuall consistory assisted with lerned psons, maynteynenge a free gramer scole with a day!y lecture of holy scripture, whereby God's honor principally pre ferred, the Welsh rudenes decreasynge, christian cyvilitye may be introduced, to the famous renowne of the kyuges supremyeye, whose princely maiestye Al mightye Jesu preserue with your good lordship. From Kermerddyn, the last daye of March. Yor lordeships to comand, W. MENEVEN. LUDICROUS TIMIDITY. It is related of Aston, cari of Portland, treasurer to Charles I. that having been much importuned to procure the reversion of an office for the son of sir Julius Cæsar; the friend of the latter, in order to insure his attention to the affair, wrote on a slip of paper, "remember Cesar." This, on being presented to the treasurer, was casually put into his pocket, and he was too much of a courtier ever to think of the matter again. A short period, however, only elapsed, before accident brought this paper again to view. Not remembering the circumstance that gave rise to it, he was forcibly struck with the idea of its being an indirect intimation of approaching assassination, and in order to escape Cæsar's fate after due deliberation with his tried and steady friends, he affected indisposition, ordered his gates to be closed, and allowed only the favoured few to be admitted. Guards also were placed about his house, lest a violent assault should be made upon it in the night. This affair was at length made public, and on an explanation taking place between the noble treasurer and the patron of Mr. Cæsar, a general laugh was raised at the ridiculous point of view in which the timid and irresolute conduct of the lord treasurer had placed him. ORIGINAL POETRY. THE DEATH-BELL. LO! from yon hoary, time-worn fane, And seem to point to heav'n. Those speaking stones among; And think, while oft with ling`ring tread I pace my Laura's peaceful bed, My knell will soon be rung. Be still, my soul: ev'n now some breast From torments great as thine. Oh! would thy doom were mine. The gushing anguish fall. The earliest flow'rs that bloom; I cannot weep, for ah! to me That sober, solemn luxury, My cruel fate denies : No more pure sympathy's clear tide The last on Laura's grave was shed, And robb'd my soul of bliss. I mark'd her rose of life grow pale, I caught, as faint it died away, And press'd her chill damp lips to mine; Which clos'd her eyes in night. I saw her chaste unspotted clay Slow, on the church-yard road: Thon too, fate's help-mate, true to trust, Down these uncrimson'd checks shall Oh, oft invok'd, and envious pow'r, . glide, Or glitter in these eyes. These founts are dry, which us'd to pour At pity's call the plenteous show'r, And not uns tear supply: Yet fond, in fortune's dawning hour, The ready stroke to give! Why, on the happy, and the gly, Dost thou still urge thy fateful sway, And leav'st the wretch to live? B But cease, my heart, this mournful tone; Lo! from the tomb is comfort shewn, Ev'n Death is kind at last; Been on its surface seen. Which bears her sacred name: A pensive tribute pay. Oft too the stranger, wand'ring by, All this shall fail, and on that stone SONG. AH! will those hours again return, Or must this heart for ever mourn Far o'er yon hills, in distant lands, My thoughts with fondness rove; Far o'er those hills I send my sighs, To one I dearly love. 1. U. At evening's close, at parting day, SIR EGERWENE. Rode a knight athwart the more From Armorique, come to see Arthur, pride of chivalrie. Loud the storm and black the night, Much the loftie elmics swang To the cullis-gate he rode- Inne the base-court him dothe meete Herde has beene thie wynter-ryse, Then he leades the frozen wight Yron sarkes in blacke arraye. And a woman wo-forworne She was wan, but fayre to see Yet did paleness gryse and glome More and more she draweth nie, From the German of C. L. STOL BERG, and in Speaketh not, but sitsomelie the Metre of the original Poem. INNE the better dayes of yore Wile twas sinne for men to whore, And a woman might ne straye Eng a hair-breadth from the waye Of yhallowed chastitie, Cometh to their plenteous borde To the vassal standing bie |