yet found their way into these remote parts; and in a sheltered spot under the crag, open to the south, were six bee-hives which made the family perfectly independent of West India produce. Tea was in those days as little known as potatoes, and for all other things honey supplied the place of sugar.

The house consisted of seven rooms, the dairy and cellar included, which were both upon the ground floor. As you entered the kitchen, there was on the right one of those open chimneys which afford more comfort in a winter's evening than the finest register stove; in front of the chimney stood a wooden bee-hive chair, and on each side was a long oak seat with a back to it, the seats serving as chests in which the oaten bread was kept. They were of the darkest brown, and well polished by constant use. On the back of each were the same initials as those over the door, with the date 1610. The great oak table, and the chest which held the house-linen, bore the same date. The chimney was well hung with bacon; the rack which covered half the ceiling bore equal marks of plenty; mutton hams were suspended from other parts of the ceiling; and there was an odour of cheese from the adjoining dairy, which the turf fire, though perpetual as that of the Magi, or of the Vestal Virgins, did not overpower. A few pewter dishes were ranged above the trenchers, opposite the door on a conspicuous shelf. The other treasures of the family were in an open triangular cupboard, fixed in one of the corners of the best kitchen, half way from the floor, and touching the ceiling. They consisted of a silver saucepan, a silver goblet, and four apostle spoons. Here also King Charles's Golden Rules were pasted against the wall, and a large print of Daniel in the Lions' Den. The lions were bedaubed with yellow, and the prophet was bedaubed with blue, with a red patch upon each of his cheeks: if he had been like his picture he might have frightened the Lions; but happily there were no "judges" in the family, and it had been bought for its name's sake. Six black chairs were ranged along the wall, where they were seldom disturbed from their array. They had been purchased by Daniel the grandfather upon his marriage, and were the most costly purchase that had ever been made in the family; for the goblet was a legacy. The backs were higher than the head of the tallest man when seated; the seats flat and shallow, set in a round frame, unaccommodating in their material, more unaccommodating in shape; the backs also were of wood rising straight up, and ornamented with balls and lozenges and embossments; and the legs and cross bars were adorned in the same taste. Over the chimney were two peacocks' feathers, some of the dry silky pods of the honesty flower, and one of those large "sinuous shells" so finely described by Landor;

"Of pearly hue

Within, and they that lustre have imbibed

In the sun's palace porch-where, when unyoked,
His chariot wheel stands midway in the wave.-

Shake one, and it awakens-then apply

Its polished lips to your attentive ear,

And

And it remembers its august abodes,

And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there."

The three apartments above served equally for store-rooms and bedchambers. William Dove, the brother, slept in one, and Agatha, the maid, or Haggy, as she was called, in another."-vol. i. pp. 57-63.

Immediately after this we have a dissertation on the already, we believe, merely Antiquarian topic of craniology-and then, much to our relief, reappears Daniel the elder. A catalogue of his library is introduced as follows:

'Happily for Daniel, he lived before the age of magazines, reviews, cyclopædias, elegant extracts, and literary newspapers, so that he gathered the fruit of knowledge for himself, instead of receiving it from the dirty fingers of a retail vender. His books were few in number, but they were all weighty either in matter or in size. They consisted of the Morte d'Arthur in the fine black-letter edition of Copland-Plutarch's Morals and Pliny's Natural History, two goodly folios, full as an egg of meat-and both translated by that old worthy, Philemon, who, for the service he rendered to his contemporaries and to his countrymen, deserves to be called the best of the Hollands, without disparaging either the Lord or the Doctor of that appellation-' &c. &c.

We pass over most of the catalogue. The close of it must be given, as it serves so well to bring in one of the most charming visions of happiness in humble life, that ever poet or painter dreamt of. We print in italics some of the author's golden sen

tentiæ.

• Latimer and Du Bartas he used sometimes to read aloud on Sundays; and if the departed take cognizance of what passes on earth-and poets derive any satisfaction from that posthumous applause which is generally the only reward of those who deserve it-Sylvester might have found some compensation for the undeserved neglect into which his works had sunk, by the full and devout delight which his rattling rhymes and quaint collocations afforded to this reader. The silvertongued Sylvester, however, was reserved for a Sabbath book; as a week-day author, Daniel preferred Pliny, for the same reason that bread and cheese, or a rasher of hung mutton, contented his palate better than a syllabub. He frequently regretted that so knowing a writer had never seen or heard of Wethercote and Yordas caves-the ebbing and flowing spring at Giggleswick, Malham Cove, and Gordale Scar-that he might have described them among the wonders of the world. Omne ignotum pro magnifico, is a maxim which will not in all cases hold good. There are things which we do not undervalue becausé we are familiar with them, but which are admired the more the more thoroughly they are known and understood; it is thus with the grand objects of nature and the finest works of art,-with whatsoever is truly great and excellent. Daniel was not deficient in imagination; but no description of places which he had never seen, however exaggerated,

(as

(as such things always are) impressed him so strongly as these objects in his own neighbourhood, which he had known from childhood. Three or four times in his life it had happened that strangers with a curiosity as uncommon in that age as it is general in this, came from afar to visit these wonders of the West Riding, and Daniel accompa nied them with a delight such as he never experienced on any other occasion.

'Refusing all reward for such services, the strangers to whom he officiated as a guide, though they perceived that he was an extraor dinary person, were little aware how much information he had ac quired, and of how strange a kind. His talk with them did not go beyond the subjects which the scenes they came to visit naturally sug gested, and they wondered more at the questions he asked, than at anything which he advanced himself. For his disposition was natu rally shy, and that which had been bashfulness in youth assumed the appearance of reserve as he advanced in life; for having none to communicate with upon his favorite studies, he lived in an intellectual world of his own, a mental solitude as complete as that of Alexander Selkirk or Robinson Crusoe. Even to the curate, his conversation, if he had touched upon his books, would have been heathen Greek; and to speak the truth plainly, without knowing a letter of that language, he knew more about the Greeks, than nine-tenths of the clergy at that time, including all the dissenters, and than nine-tenths of the schoolmasters also.'

We must remember that this history opens in the year 1723 :—

Our good Daniel had none of that confidence which so usually and so unpleasantly characterizes self-taught men. In fact, he was by no means aware of the extent of his acquirements, all that he knew in this kind having been acquired for amusement-not for use. He had never attempted to teach himself anything. These books had lain in his way. in boyhood, or fallen in it afterwards, and the perusal of them, intently as it was followed, was always accounted by him to be nothing more than recreation. None of his daily business had ever been neglected for it; he cultivated his fields and his garden, repaired his walls, looked to the stable, tended his cows and salved his sheep, as diligently and as contentedly as if he had possessed neither capacity nor inclination for any higher employments. Yet Daniel was one of those men, who, if disposition and aptitude were not overruled by circumstances, would have grown pale with study, instead of being bronzed and hardened by sun, and wind, and rain. There were in him undeveloped talents which might have raised him to distinction as an antiquary, a virtuoso of the Royal Society, a poet, or a theologian, to whichever course the bias in his ball of fortune had inclined.

But

he had not a particle of envy in his composition. He thought, indeed, that if he had had grammar-learning in his youth like the curate, he would have made more use of it; but there was nothing either of the sourness or bitterness (call it which you please) of repining, in this natural reflection. :

• Never

• Never indeed was any man more contented with doing his duty in that state of life to which it had pleased God to call him. And well he might be so, for no man ever passed through the world with less to disquiet or to sour him. Bred up in habits which secured the continuance of that humble but sure independence to which he was born, he had never known what it was to be anxious for the future. At the age of twenty-five he had brought home a wife, the daughter of a little landholder like himself, with fifteen pounds for her portion; and the true-love of his youth proved to him a faithful helpmate in those years when the dream of life is over, and we live in its realities. If at any time there had been some alloy in his happiness, it was when there appeared reason to suppose that in him his family would be extinct; for, though no man knows what parental feelings are till he has experienced them, and Daniel, therefore, knew not the whole value of that which he had never enjoyed, the desire of progeny is natural to the heart of man; and though Daniel had neither large estates, nor an illustrious name to transmit, it was an unwelcome thought, that the little portion of the earth which had belonged to his fathers time out of mind should pass into the possession of some stranger, who would tread on their graves and his own, without any regard to the dust that lay beneath. That uneasy apprehension was removed after he had been married fifteen years, when to the great joy of both parents, because they had long ceased to entertain any hope of such an event, their wishes were fulfilled in the birth of a son. This, their only child, was healthy, apt and docile, to all appearance as happily disposed in mind and body as a father's heart could wish. If they had fine weather for winning their hay or shearing their corn, they thanked God for it; if the season proved unfavourable, the labour was only a little the more and the crop a little the worse. Their stations secured them from want, and they had no wish beyond it. What more had Daniel to desire ?'

The following passage in the divine Du Bartas,' old Daniel, we are told, used to read with peculiar satisfaction, applying it to himself:

O thrice, thrice happy he, who shuns the cares
Of city troubles, and of state-affairs;
And, serving Ceres, tills with his own team
His own free land, left by his friends to him!
Never pale Envy's poisony heads do hiss
gnaw his heart: nor Vulture Avarice:

To

His fields' bounds bound his thoughts: he never sups,
For nectar, poison mix'd in silver cups;

Milk, cheese, and fruit, (fruits of his own endeavour)
Drest without dressing, hath he ready ever.

6

Sly pettifoggers, wranglers at the bar,

Proud purse-leeches, harpies of Westminster,
With feigned chiding, and foul jarring noise,
Break not his brain, nor interrupt his joys;

But

But cheerful birds chirping him sweet good morrows,
With nature's music do beguile his sorrows;
Teaching the fragrant forests day by day
The diapason of their heavenly lay.

His wandering vessel, reeling to and fro
On the ireful ocean (as the winds do blow)
With sudden tempest is not overwhurled,
To seek his sad death in another world:
But leading all his life at home in peace,
Always in sight of his own smoke, no seas,
No other seas he knows, no other torrent,
Than that which waters with its silver current
His native meadows; and that very earth
Shall give him burial which first gave him birth.

To summon timely sleep, he doth not need
Æthiop's cold rush, ner drowsy poppy-seed;
But on green carpets thrum'd with mossy bever,
Fringing the round skirts of his winding river,
The stream's mild murmur, as it gently gushes,
His healthy limbs in quiet slumber hushes.

'Drum, fife, and trumpet, with their loud alarms,
Make him not start out of his sleep to arms;
Nor dear respect of some great General,
Him from his bed unto the block doth call.
The crested cock sings "Hunt-is-up" to him,
Limits his rest, and makes him stir betime,
To walk the mountains and the flow'ry meads
Impearl'd with tears which great Aurora sheds.

'Never gross air poisoned in stinking streets,
To choke his spirit, his tender nostril meets;
But the open sky, where at full breath he lives,
Still keeps him sound, and still new stomach gives;
And Death, dread Serjeant of the Eternal Judge,
Comes very late to his sole-seated lodge.'

We shall give the reader another peep at Daniel the elder, ere we close our paper: in the meantime take a passage, eminently characteristic of the author, which occurs in introducing some details of the style of education that awaited his son, the future 'Doctor.' The passage is full of matter for reflection, and at least ought to be interesting to every parent.

6

“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old his feet will not depart from it." Generally speaking it will be found so; but is there any other rule to which there are so many exceptions? Ask the serious Christian as he calls himself, or the Professor (another and more fitting appellative which the Christian Pharisees have chosen for themselves)-ask him whether he has found it hold good? Whether his sons when they attained to years of discretion (which are the most indiscreet years in the course of human life) have

profited