in 1207, for we find by the old writers, that it was re-built in either the reign of King Richard the Second or of Henry the Fourth. On the dissolution of monasteries, it was purchased of the King by the inhabitants of Southwark, and converted by them into a parish church, under the name of St. Saviour.

"I shall here, Charles, point out to your notice the monument of one of the most ancient of our English poets, contemporary with Chaucer, and named Gower. Chaucer died in the year 1400, and Gower in 1402."

On examining the monument, the figure of the venerable poet is represented recumbent in a long gown, a chaplet of roses on his head, three books under his feet, and three figures above; representing Charity, Mercy, and Piety, holding scrolls, with lines in French, intreating pardon for the soul of him that lieth underneath.

Though the monuments in this church could neither attract, by their number, nor beautiful sculpture, yet the antiquity of them greatly pleased Charles, while Mary, more volatile, paid them little attention, until one particularly attracted her notice, by the account she received from the man who attended them.

My dear Charles," said she, running to him, for he had continued with his father, examining one he thought worthy of his notice," come this way here is one erected to the memory of a dwarf : he is represented lying on a mat in his shroud, and is said to have been but one foot three inches in height, and died at the advanced age of ninety-two; in the year 1575."

"I will attend you presently, Mary, replied Charles; "but, by my father's permission, will first transcribe the epitaph on Richard Humble and his family."

EPITAPH.

Like to the damask rose you see,
Or like the blossom on the tree,
Or like the dainty flower of May,
Or like the morning of the day,
Or like the sun, or like the shade,
Or like the gourd which Jonas had :
E'en so is man, whose thread is spun,
Drawn out and cut, and so is done.
The rose withers, the blossom blasteth,
The flower fades, the morning hasteth,
The sun sets, the shadow flies,

The gourd consumes, and man he dies.

"These lines are really very pleasing," Charles," said Mr. Richardson," and much more worthy of observation than Mary's dwarf."

"Sir," returned Mary, blushing, “ I overlooked that epitaph; though now I hear it, I think it very pretty."

"So will it ever be, my love, with those who run eagerly forward to divert their eyes, and neglect the more slow, but solid amusements of the mind. But come - never look grave; proceed in improving as you have begun, and I shall

have no reason to complain. We will now take a view of this dwarf, after which I must hasten to my appointment; for it is nearly the hour, and want of punctuality, though even in trifling business, I have a peculiar aversion to."

THE ensuing morning being clear and frosty, Mr. Richardson had promised his young people a long ramble, and they were just ready to depart, when the servant announced a gentleman whose name Mr. Richardson did not immediately recollect.

The party being thus broken upon was by no means pleasing to Mary: but checking her discontent, she whispered to Charles, "I wish we had been gone; however, I hope we shall not be long detained."

The stranger entered. He was about the middle age, of a pleasing countenance, though apparently much sunburnt. "I am sorry, Sir," said he, addressing Mr. Richardson, "for the trou