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"To our vérie loving good ffreind sir Gilbert Loughton, knight, geave theis with speed:

"After our hartie commendacions unto you. The prince, his highnes, hath comanded us to signifie to you that whereas he doth intend to make a challenge in his owne person at the Barriers, with sixe other assistants, to bee performed some tyme this Christmas; and that he hath made choice of you for one of the defend ants (whereof wee have comandement to give you knowledge), that theruppon you may so repaire hither to prepare yourselfe, as you may bee fitt to attend him. Hereunto expecting your speedie answer wee rest, from Whitehall this 25th of December, 1609. Your very loving freindes, Notingham. T.Suffolke. | E.Worcester." On New-year's Day, 1610, or the day after, the prince's challenge was proclaimed at court, and "his highnesse, in his own lodging, in the Christmas, did feast the earles, barons, and knights, assailants and defendants, untill the great Twelfth appointed night, on which this great fight was to be performed."

On the 6th of January, in the evening, "the barriers" were held at the palace of Whitehall, in the presence of the king and queen, the ambassadors of Spain and Venice, and the peers and ladies of the land, with a multitude of others assembled in the banqueting-house at the upper end whereof was the king's chair of state, and on the right hand a sumptuous pavilion for the prince and his associates, from whence, with great bravery and ingenious devices, they descended into the middell of the roome, and there the prince performed his first feats of armes, that is to say, at Barriers, against all commers, being assisted onlie with six others, viz. the duke of Lenox, the earle of Arundell, the earle of Southampton, the lord Hay, sir Thomas Somerset, and sir Richard Preston, who was shortly after created lord Dingwell."

To answer these challengers came fiftysix earles, barons, knights, and esquiers. They were at the lower end of the roome, where was erected" a very delicat and pleasant place, where in privat manner they and their traine remained, which was so very great that no man imagined that the place could have concealed halfe so many." From thence they issued, in comely order, to the middell of the roome, where sate the king and the queene, and the court," to behold the barriers, with

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the several showes and devices of each combatant." Every challenger fought with eight several defendants two several combats at two several weapons, viz. at push of pike, and with single sword, "The prince performed this challenge with wonderous skill and courage, to the great joy and admiration of the beholders," he not being full sixteene yeeres of age untill the 19th of February." These feats, and other "triumphant shewes," began before ten o'clock at night, and continued until three o'clock the next morning, being Sonday." The speeches at "the barriers" were written by Ben Jonson. The next day (Sunday) the prince rode in great pomp to convoy the king to St James', whither he had invited him and all the court to supper, whereof the queen alone was absent; and then the prince bestowed prizes to the three combatants best deserving; namely, the earl of Montgomery, sir Thomas Darey (son to lord Darey), and sir Robert Gourdon.* In this way the court spent Twelfth-night in 1610.

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On Twelfth-night, 1753, George II. played at hazard for the benefit of the groom porter. All the royal family who played were winners, particularly the duke of York, who won 3000l. The most considerable losers were the duke of Grafton, 'the marquis of Hartington, the earl of Holderness, earl of Ashburnham, and the earl of Hertford. The prince of Wales (father of George III.) with prince Edward and a select company, danced in the little drawing room till eleven o'clock, and then withdrew.†

Old Christmas-day. According to the alteration of the style,

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falls OLD Christmas-day Twelfth-day, and in distant parts is even kept in our time as the festival of the nativity. In 1753, Old Christmas-day was observed in the neighbourhood of Worcester by the Anti-Gregorians, full as sociably, if not so religiously, as formerly. In several villages, the parishioners so strongly insisted upon having an Oldstyle nativity sermon, as they term it, that their ministers could not well avoid preaching to them: and, at some towns, where the markets are held on Friday, not a butter basket, nor even a Goose, was to be seen in the market-place the whole day.‡

Mr. Nichols's Progresses of James I.
Gentleman's Magazine.
* Ibid,

To heighten the festivities of Christmas, 1825, the good folks of " London and its environs" were invited to Sadler's Wells, by the following whimsical notice, printed and distributed as a handbill:

"SOVEREIGNS WILL BE TAKEN, during the Christmas holidays, and as long as any body will bring them to SADLER'S WELLS; nay so little fastidious are the Proprietors of that delectable fascinating snuggery, that, however incredible it may appear, they, in some cases, have actually had the liberality to prefer Gold to Paper. Without attempting to investigate their motives for such extraordinary conduct, we shall do them the justice to say, they certainly give an amazing quantum of amusement, All in One Night, at the HOUSE ON THE HEATH, where, besides the THREE CRUMPIES, AND THE BARON AND HIS BROTHERS, an immense number of fashionables are

expected on MERLIN'S MOUNT, and

some of the first Cambriam families will countenanceHARLEQUIN CYMRAEG, in hopes to partake of the Living Leek, which being served up the last thing before supper, will constitute a most excellent Christmas carminative, preventing the effects of night air on the crowds who will adorn this darling little edifice. In addition to a most effective LIGHT COMPANY engaged here, a very respectably sized Moon will be in attendance to light home a greater number of Patrons than ever this popular petted Palace of Pantomime is likely to produce. We say nothing of warmth and comfort, acquired by recent improvements, because these matters will soon be subjects of common conversation, and omit noticing the happiness of Half-price, and the cheering qualities of the Wine-room, fearful of wounding in the bosom of the Manager that innate modesty which is ever the concomitant of merit; we shall therefore conclude, by way of invitation to the dubious, in the language of an elegant writer, by asserting that the Proof of the Pud ding is in-VERBUM SAT."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR. Mean Temperature - - - 37 · 12.

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Cold, colourless, and dead,

think on many a wasted hour, And sicken o'er the void; And many darker are behind, On worse than nought employ'd. Oh Vanity! alas, my heart!

How widely hast thou stray'd And misused every golden gift

For better purpose made!

I think on many a once-loved friend
As nothing to me now;
And what can mark the lapse of time
As does an alter'd brow?

Perhaps 'twas but a careless word

That sever'd Friendship's chain;
And angry Pride stands by each gap,
Lest they unite again.
Less sad, albeit more terrible,

To think upon the dead,
Who quiet in the lonely grave

Lay down their weary head.
For faith and hope, and peace, and trust,
Are with their happier lot:
Though broken is their bond of love,
At least we broke it not.-

Thus thinking of the meeting years,
The coming and the past,

I needs must ask the future one,
Wilt thou be like the last?

*See vol. i. p. 61.

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1826. First Sunday after Epiphany. CHRONOLOGY.

On the 8th of January, 1753, died sir Thomas Burnet, one of the judges of the court of Common Pleas, of the gout in his stomach, at his house in Lincoln's-inn fields. He was the eldest son of the cele brated Dr. Gilbert Burnet, bishop of Salisbury; was several years consul at Lisbon: and in November, 1741, made one of the judges of the Common Pleas, in room of judge Fortescue, who was appointed master of the rolls. On November 23, 1745, when the lord chancellor, judges, and association of the gentlemen of the law, waited on his majesty with, their address, on occasion of the rebellion, he was knighted. He was an able and upright judge, and a great benefactor to the poor.t

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MONEY AND THE MOON.

Gentle reader,

If thou art not over-much prejudiced by the advances of modernization, (I like a long new-coined word,) so that, even in these "latter days," thou dost not hesitate to place explicit reliance on ancient, yet infallible" sayings and doings," (ancient enough, since they have been handed down to us by our grandmothers-and who would doubt the weight and authority of so many years?—and infallible enough, since they themselves absolutely believed in their "quite-correctness,") I will tell thee a secret well worth knowing, if that can be called a secret which arises out of a well-known and almost universal custom, at least, in “days of yore." It is neither more nor less than the possession throughout" the rolling year" of a pocket never without money. Is not this indeed a secret well worth knowing? Yet the means of its accomplishment are exceedingly simple (as all difficult things are when once known); On the first day of the first new moon of the new year, or so soon afterwards as you observe it, all that you have to do is this:-on the first glance you take at "pale Luna's silvery crest" in the western sky, put your hand in your pocket, shut your eyes, and turn the smallest piece of silver coin you possess upside down in your said pocket. This will ensure you (if you will but trust. its infallibility!) throughout the whole

year that " summum bonum" of earthly wishes, a pocket never empty. If, however, you neglect, on the first appearance of the moon, your case is hopeless; nevertheless and notwithstanding, at a future new moon you may pursue the same course, and it will be sure to hold good during the then current month, but not a whit" longer.

This mention of the new moon and its crest brings to mind a few verses I wrote some time ago, and having searched my scrap-book, (undoubtedly not such a one as Geoffery Crayon's,) I copied them from thence, and they are here under. Although written in the merry 'merry month of May," they may be read in the "dreary dark December," for every new moon presents the same beautiful phenomenon.

A Simile.

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Hast thou ne'er marked, when first the crescent moon Shines faintly in the western horizon,

O'er her whole orb a slight soft blush o'erspread,

As though she were abashed to be thus seen
From the sun's couch with silver steps retreating?
Hast thou ne'er marked, that when by slow degrees,
Night after night, her crescent shape is lost,
And steadily she gains her stores of light,
Till half her form resplendently proclaims
An envious rival to the stars around-

Then mark'st thou not, that nought of her sweet blush
Remains to please the gazer's wistful sight,
And that she shines increasingly in strength,
Till she is full-orb'd, mistress of the sky?—
So is it with the mind, when silently

Into the young heart's void steals timorous love.
Then enter with it fancy's fairy dreams,
Visions of glory, reveries of bliss;

And then they come and go, till comes, alas!
Knowledge, forced on us, of the "world without!"
How soon these scenes of beauty disappear!
How soon fond thought sinks into nothingness!
How soon the mind discovers that true bliss
Reposes not on sublunary things,

But is alone when passion's blaze is o'er
In that high happy sphere, where love's supreme.

Here it may not be out of place to endeavour to describe, as familiarly as possible, the cause of the lunar appearance. Hold a piece of looking-glass in a ray of sunshine, and then move a small ball through the reflected ray: it is easy to conceive that both sides will be illumined; that side towards the sun by the direct sunbeam, and the side towards the mirror, though less powerfully, by the reflected sunbeam. In a somewhat similar manner, the earth supplies the place of the mirror, and as at every new moon, and for several days after the moon is in that part of her orbit between the earth and the sun, the rays of the sun are reflected from the earth to the dark side of the moon, and consequently to the inhabitants of that part of the moon, (if any such there be, and query why should there not be such ?) the earth must present the curious appearance of a full moon of many times the diameter which ours presents.

J. O. W.

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justices at Westminster-hall, for personat
ing various characters and names, and
defrauding numbers of people, in order to
support his extravagance. It appeared
by the evidence, that he had cheated a
taylor of a suit of velvet clothes, trimmed
with gold; a jeweller of upwards of 1007
in rings and watches, which he pawned
a coachmaker of a chaise; a carver and
cabinet-maker of household goods; a
hosier, hatter, and shoemaker; and, in
short, some of almost every other business,
to the amount of a large sum. He some-
times appeared like a gentleman attended
with livery servants; sometimes as a no-
bleman's steward; and, in the summer
time, he travelled the west of England, in
the character of Doctor Rock; and, at the
same time, wrote to London for goods, in
the names of the Rev. Laroche, and the
Rev. Thomas Strickland. The evidence
was full against him; notwithstanding
which, he made a long speech in his own
defence. He was sentenced to six months'
hard labour in Bridewell, and, within that
time, to be six times publicly whipped.

Such offences are familiar to tradesmen of the present times, through many perpetrators of the like stamp; but all of them are not of the same audacity as Stroud, who in the month following his conviction, wrote and published his life, wherein he gives a very extraordinary account (of his adventures, but passes slightly over, or palliates his blackest crimes. He was

bred a haberdasher of small wares in Fleet-street, married his mistress's sister

before his apprenticeship determined, set up in the Poultry, became a bankrupt, in three months got his certificate signed, and again set up in Holborn, where he lived but a little while before he was thrown into the King's Bench for debt, and there got acquainted with one Playstowe, who gradually led him into scenes of fraud, which he afterwards imitated. Playstowe being a handsome man, usually passed for a gentleman, and Stroud for his steward; at last the former, after many adventures, married a girl with 40001., flew to France, and left Stroud in the lurch, who then retired to Yorkshire, and lived some time with his aunt, pretending his wife was dead, and he was just on the brink of marrying advantageously, when his real character was traced. He then went to Ireland, passed for a man of fashion, hired an equipage, made the most of that country, and escaped to London. His next grand expedition was to the west of England, where he still personated the man of fortune, got acquainted with a young lady, and pursued her to London, where justice overtook him; and, instead of wedlock, bound him in the fetters of Bridewell.

On the 24th of June, 1752, Stroud received "his last and severest whipping,

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On the 10th of January, 1812, it is observed, that London was this day involved, for several hours, in palpable darkness. The shops, offices, &c., were necessarily lighted up; but, the streets not being lighted as at night, it required no small care in the passenger to find his way, and avoid accidents. The sky, where any light pervaded it, showed the aspect of bronze. Such is, occasionally, the effect of the accumulation of smoke between two opposite gentle currents, or by means of a misty calm. The fuliginous cloud was visible, in this instance, from a distance of forty miles. Were it not for the extreme mobility of our atmosphere, this volcano of a hundred thousand mouths would, in winter, be scarcely habitable !+

Winter in the Country.

All out door work

* Gentleman's Magazine.
+ Howard on Climate.

Now stands; the waggoner, with wisp-wound feet,
And wheelspokes almost filled, his destined stage
Scarcely can gain. O'er hill, and vale, and wood,
Sweeps the snow-pinioned blast, and all things veils
In white array, disguising to the view

Objects well known, now faintly recognised.
One colour clothes the mountain and the plain,
Save where the feathery flakes melt as they fall
Upon the deep blue stream, or scowling lake,
Or where some beetling rock o'erjutting hangs
Above the vaulty precipice's cove.

Formless, the pointed cairn now scarce o'ertops
The level dreary waste; and coppice woods,
Diminished of their height, like bushes seem.
With stooping heads, turned from the storm, the flocks,
Onward still urged by man and dog, escape
The smothering drift; while, skulking at a side,
Is seen the fox, with close downfolded tail,
Watching his time to seize a straggling prey;
Or from some lofty crag he ominous howls,
And makes approaching night more dismal fall.

Grahame.

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