Where Albion's rocks exult amidst the sea
Around the beauteous isle of liberty;
Man, through all ages of revolving time,
Unchanging man, in every varying clime,
Deems his own land of every land the pride,
Beloved by heaven o'er all the world beside;
His home the spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.

"Fairies are a small set of imaginary spirits of both sexes, in human shape, who are fabled to haunt houses in companies, to reward cleanliness, to dance and revel in meadows in the night time, and to play a thousand freakish pranks. Both sexes are represented generally as clothed in green: and certain circular appearances occasionally seen in pastures and on heaths, are supposed to be the traces of their tiny feet, which remain visible on the grass for a long time after their dances: these are still called fairy rings or circles."- The National Cyclopædia.

Singing and dancing being all their pleasure,

They'll please you most nicely, if you'll be at leisure;
To hear their sweet chanting, it will you delight,
To cure melancholy at morning and night.

Come, follow, follow me,
You Fairie elves that be:
And circle round this greene,
Come follow me your queene,
Hand and hand let's dance around,
For this place is Fairie ground.

When mortals are at rest,
And snoring in their nest,
Unheard or unespied,
Through key-hole do we glide:
Over tables, stooles, and shelves,
We trip it with our fairy elves.

And if the house be foule,
Of platter, dish, or bowle,
Up stairs we nimbly creepe,
And find the sluts asleepe,

Then we pinch their arms and thighes,
None escapes, nor none espies.

But if the house be swept,
And from uncleannesse kept,
We praise the house and maid,
And surely she is paid:
For we do use before we go
To drop a tester in her shoe.
Upon the mushroom's head,
Our table-cloth we spread,
A grain o' the finest wheat
Is manchet that we eat;

The pearlie drops of dew we drinke
In acorne-cups fill'd to the brinke.

The tongues of nightingales,
With unctuous juice of snayles,
Betwixt two nut-shells strewde,
Is meat that's easily chewde:

The brains of rennes, the beards of mice,
Will make a feast of wondrous price.

Over the tender grasse

So lightly we can passe,
The young and tender stalke
Ne'er bowes whereon we walke,

Nor in the morning dew is seene

Over night where we have beene,

The grasshopper, gnat, and flie,
Serve for our minstrels three,

And sweetly dance awhile

'Till we the time beguile:

And when the Moon-calf hides her head,

The glow-worm lights us unto bed.

Shakspeare.

Alexander Selkirk, a sailor, was born in the year 1676, at Largo, a village on the north shore of the Firth of Forth, in Scotland. He went to sea when he was twenty years of age; at the expiration of four years he returned to his native place, where he remained for some time. He then sailed, with the famous Captain Dampier, to the South Seas, for the purpose of seizing the Spanish galleons, which annually sailed from South America to Spain. The captain of Selkirk's vessel having died, his place was supplied by Captain Stradling, a man of a very brutal character. Selkirk, finding his situation exceedingly uncomfortable, determined to leave the vessel on the first favourable opportunity. Accordingly, when the vessel was about to sail from the island of Juan Fernandez, where it had been refitting, he went into a boat with all his effects, and was rowed ashore under the direction of the captain (October, 1704). "His first sensation on landing was one of joy, arising from the novelty of an exemption from the annoyances which had been oppressing him for such a length of time; but he no sooner heard the strokes of the receding oars, than the sense of solitude and helplessness fell upon his mind, and made him rush into the water to entreat his companions to take him once more on board. The brutal commander only made this change of resolution a subject of mockery, and told him it would be best for the remainder of the crew, that so troublesome a fellow should remain where he was." On this island he remained four years and four months, and was freed from his solitude by Captain Woodes Rogers, the commander of a pri vateering expedition to the South Seas. On his return to England, he is said to have employed Daniel Defoe in drawing up a narrative of his adventures, for the press: from which source originated the popular and matchless "Adventures of Robinson Crusoe."

The island of Juan Fernandez lies in the Pacific Ocean, and is about 330 miles from the nearest land in South America. It is nearly 40 miles in circumference, and at a distance appears like a naked rock; but it is covered with luxuriant vegetation, and contains great numbers of goats.

I am monarch of all I survey,

My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea,
I'm lord of the fowl and the brute.
O solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.

D

I am out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech-
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, friendship, and love
Divinely bestow'd upon man,
Oh! had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again:
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth;
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth.

Religion! what treasure untold
Resides in that heavenly word!
More precious than silver and gold1
Or all that this earth can afford.
But the sound of the church-going bell
These valleys and rocks never heard;
Never sigh'd at the sound of a knell,
Or smiled when a sabbath appear'd.

Ye winds! that have made me your sport2,
Convey to this desolate shore
Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more.
My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?
Oh, tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.

How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-winged arrows of light.

1 Read Proverbs, iii. 13-16.

2 The author here supposes that

Selkirk had been shipwrecked, which, however, was not the case.

King John of France was taken prisoner in the battle of Poictiers, which was gained by Edward the Black Prince, in the year A. D. 1356. After a captivity of four years, he was allowed to return to France. The object of this visit was, that he might endeavour to prevail upon his subjects to agree to a peace that had been proposed by the King of England. One of the points in this agreement was, that John should pay as his ransom three millions of crowns of gold. His subjects, as well as the Dauphin, were highly indignant at the terms of the treaty, and would not raise the money required for the ransom of their monarch. He determined, therefore, to return to England, and surrender his person once more into the hands of Edward. He was strongly advised by some of his counsellors to elude a treaty which he could not, consistent with policy, fulfil. Their advice, however, was ineffectual. "If faith and loyalty," said he, "were banished from the rest of the earth, they ought still to have their habitation in the hearts of kings." "He therefore crossed the seas, according to the superstition of the times, offered a valuable jewel at the shrine of Thomas à Becket, and was received at London with every mark of honourable respect. A reign of incessant calamity, which had been impatiently endured by his subjects for nearly fourteen years, was at length terminated by the death of John, which occurred at his lodgings in the Savoy, and in the capital of his enemy. He