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SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY'S VISIT.
SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY'S VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
(From the “ Spectator.") My friend Sir Roger de Coverley told me the asked the coachman if his axletree was good. other night that he had been reading my paper Upon the fellow's telling him he would warrant it, upon Westminster Abbey, “in which,” says he, the knight turned to me, told me he looked like an “there are a great many ingenious fancies.” He honest man, and went in without further ceremony. told me, at the same time, that he observed I had We had not gone far, when Sir Roger, popping promised another paper upon the tombs, and that out his head, called the coachman down from his he should be glad to go and see them with me, not box, and upon preseating himself at the window, having visited them since he had read history. I asked him if he smoked. As I was considering could not at first imagine how this came into the what this would end in, he bade him stop by the knight's head, till. I recollected that he had way at any good tobacconist's, and take in a roll been very busy all last summer upon Baker's of the best Virginia. Nothing material happened “ Chronicle," which he has quoted several times in in the remaining part of our journey, till we were his disputes with Sir Andrew Freeport since his set down at the west end of the abbey. last coming to town. Accordingly, I promised to As we went up the body of the church, the knight call upon him the next morning, that we might pointed at the trophies upon one of the new monugo together to the abbey.
ments, and cried out, " A brave man, I warrant I found the knight under the butler's hands, him!” Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudesley who always shaves him.
He was no
Shovel, he flung his head that way, and cried, “Sir dressed, than he called for a glass of the Widow Cloudesley Shovel! a very gallant man!” As Truby's water, which he told me he always drank we stood before Busby's tomb, the knight uttered before he went abroad. He recommended to me a himself again after the same manner, “ Dr. Busby! dram of it at the same time, with so much hearti- a great man! he whipped my grandfather; a very ness, that I could not forbear drinking it. As great man! I should have gone to him myself, if soon as I had got it down, I found it very unpalat. I had not been a blockhead; a very great man!” able; upon which the knight, observing that I had We were immediately conducted into the little made several wry faces, told me that he knew I chapel on the right hand. Sir Roger, planting should not like it at first, but that it was the best himself at our historian's elbow, was very attentive thing in the world against some maladies.
to everything he said, particularly to the account I could have wished, indeed, that he had ac- he gave us of the lord who had cut off the King quainted me with the virtues of it sooner; but it of Morocco's head. Among several other figures, was too late to complain, and I knew what he had he was very well pleased to see the statesman Cecil done was out of good-will. Sir Roger told me upon his knees; and concluding them all to be further, that he looked upon it to be very good for great men, was conducted to the figure which a man whilst he stayed in town, to keep off infec. represents that martyr to good housewifery, who tion, and that he got together a quantity of it upon died by the prick of a needle. Upon our interthe first news of the sickness being at Dantzic; preter's telling us that she was a maid of honour when of a sudden, turning short to one of his to Queen Elizabeth, the knight was very inquisi. servants, who stood behind him, he bade him call tive into her name and family; and after having a hackney-coach, and take care that it was an regarded her finger for some time, “I wonder," elderly man that drove it.
says he, " that Sir Richard Baker has said nothing He then resumed his discourse upon Mrs. of her in his ‘Chronicle.”” Truby's water, telling me that the Widow Truby We were then conveyed to the two coronation was one who did more good than all the doctors chairs, where my old friend, after having heard and apothecaries in the country; that she distilled that the stone underneath the most ancient of every poppy that grew within five miles of her; | them, which was brought from Scotland, was called that she distributed her medicine gratis among all Jacob's pillar, sat himself down in the chair; and sorts of people; to which the knight added, that looking like the figure of an old Gothic king, asked she had a very great jointure, and that the whole our interpreter “what authority they had to say country would fain have it a match between him that Jacob had ever been in Scotland ?” The and her; "and truly,” says Sir Roger, “if I had fellow, instead of returning him an answer, told not been engaged, perhaps I could not have done him “that he hoped his honour would pay his better."
forfeit.” I could observe Sir Roger a little ruffled His discourse was broken off by his man's telling upon being thus trepanned; but our guide not him he had called a coach. Upon our going to insisting upon his demand, the knight soon reit, after having cast his eye upon the wheels, he covered his good humour, and whispered in my
ear, that “if Will Wimble were with us, and saw | lock up your kings better; they will carry off the those two chairs, it would go hard but he would body too, if you do not take care.” get a tobacco-stopper out of one or t'other of them." The glorious names of Henry V. and Queen
Sir Roger, in the next place, laid his hand upon Elizabeth gave the knight great opportunities of Edward III.'s sword, and leaning upon the pommel shining, and of doing justice to Sir Richard Baker, of it, gave us the whole history of the Black Prince; "who," as our knight observed with some surprise, concluding, that in Sir Richard Baker's opinion, “ had a great many kings in him, whose monuments Edward III. was one of the greatest princes that he had not seen in the abbey.” ever sat upon the English throne.
For my own part, I could not but be pleased to We were then shown Edward the Confessor's see the knight show such an honest passion for tomb; upon which Sir Roger acquainted us, that the glory of his country, and such a respectful "he was the first who touched for the evil;" and gratitude to the memory of its princes. afterwards Henry IV.'s; upon which he shook his I must not omit, that the benevolence of my head, and told us “there was fine reading in the good old friend, which flows out towards every one casualties of that reign.”
he converses with, made him very kind to our Our conductor then pointed to that monument interpreter, whom he looked upon as an extraordiwhere there is the figure of one of our English kings nary man; for which reason he shook him by the without a head; and upon giving us to know that hand at parting, telling him that he should be very the head, which was of beaten silver, had been glad to see him at his lodgings in Norfolk Buildstolen away several years since; “Some Whig, ings, and talk over these matters with him more I'll warrant yon,” says Sir Roger: "you ought to at leisure.
[PETER PINDAR. Soe Page 5.]
A FELLOW in a market-town,
Brought blood, and danced, reviled, and made Most musical cried “Razors," up and down,
wry faces; And offered twelve for eighteen-pence;
And curs'd each razor's body o'er and o'er! Which certainly seem'd wondrous cheap, And for the money quite a heap,
His muzzle, form'd of opposition stuff,
Firm as a Foxite, would not lose its ruff; As every man should buy, with cash and sense.
So kept it-laughing at the steel and suds : A country bumpkin the great offer heard ;
Hodge, in a passion, stretch'd his angry jaws, Poor Hodge! who suffer'd by a thick black beard, Vowing the direst vengeance, with clench'd claws That seem'd a shoebrush stuck beneath his On the vile cheat that sold the goods : nose ;
“ Razors! a base, confounded dog, With cheerfulness the eighteen-pence he paid,
Not fit to scrape a hog!” And proudly to himself, in whispers, said, “This rascal stole the razors,
Hodge sought the fellow_found him, and begunI suppose!
"Perhaps, Master Razor-rogue, to you ’tis fun, “No matter if the fellow be a knave,
That people flay themselves out of their lives; Provided that the razors shave:
You rascal ! for an hour have I been grubbing, It sartinly will be a monstrous prize.”
Giving my whiskers here a scrubbing, So home the clown with his good fortune went, With razors just like oyster-knives. Smiling, in heart and soul content,
Sirrah, I tell you you're a knave, And quickly soap'd himself to ears and eyes To cry up razors that can't shave.”' Being well lather'd from a dish or tub,
• Friend,” quoth the razor-man, I'm no knave; Hodge now began with grinning pain to grub,
As for the razors you have bought, Just like a hedger cutting furze:
Upon my word, I never thought 'Twas a vile razor !—then the rest he tried
That they would shave." All were impostors—"Ah!" Hodge sigh'd,
"Not think they'd shave !" quoth Hodge, with "I wish my eighteen-pence were in my purse."
And voice not much unlike an Indian yell ; In vain, to chase his beard, and bring the graces, “What were they made for, then, you dog?” he cries, He cut, and dug, and winced, and stamp'd, and “Made !" quoth the fellow, with a smile—“to swore,
[Sir RICHARD STEELE, born in Dublin, 1675. Educated at Charterhouse and Merton. Enlisted in the Horse Guards. Subsequently
got a commission ; afterwards the post of Commissioner in the Stamp Office. Sat in Parliament. Died at Llangunnor, near Carmarthen, in 1729.]
The first sense of sorrow I ever knew was upon ground, whence he could never come to us again. the death of my father, at which time I was not She was a very beautiful woman, of a noble spirit, quite five years of age; but was rather amazed at and there was a dignity in her grief amidst all the what all the house meant than possessed with a wildness of her transport, which, methought, struck real understanding why nobody was willing to me with an instinct of sorrow, which, before I was play with me. I remember I went into the room sensible of what it was to grieve, seized my very where his body lay, and my mother sat weeping soul, and has made pity the weakness of my heart alone by it. I had my battledore in my hand, and ever since. The mind in infancy is, methinks, like fell a-beating the coffin, and calling papa; for, I the body in embryo, and receives impressions so know not how, I had some slight idea that he was forcible that they are as hard to be removed by locked up there. My mother caught me in her reason as any mark with which a child is born is arms, and, transported beyond all patience of the to be taken away by any future application. Hence silent grief she was before in, she almost smothered it is that good nature in me is no merit; but me in her embrace, and told me, in a flood of tears, having been as frequently overwhelmed with her papa could not hear me, and would play with me tears before I knew the cause of my affliction, or no more, for they were going to put him under could draw defences from my own judgment, I imbibed commiseration, remorse, and an unmanly gentleness of mind, which has since ensnared me into ten thousand calarities, and from whence I can reap no advantage, except it be that, in such
a humour as I am now in, I can better indulge myself in the softness of humanity, and enjoy that sweet anxiety which arises from the memory of past afflictions.
THE NOTARY OF PERIGUEUX.
[HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. See Page 14.] You must know, gentlemen, that there lived | finally, put his nervous system completely out of
tune. some years ago, in the city of Perigueux, an He lost his appetite, became gaunt and honest notary public, the descendant of a very haggard, and could get no sleep. Legions of blue ancient and broken-down family, and the occupant devils haunted him by day, and by night strange of one of those old weather-beaten tenements which faces peeped through his bed-curtains, and the remind you of the times of your great-grandfather. nightmare snorted in his ear.
The worse he grew, He was a man of an unoffending, quiet disposition; the more he smoked and tippled; and the more the father of a family, though not the head of it, be smoked and tippled, why, as a matter of course, for in that family “the hen overcrowed the cock;" | the worse he grew. His wife alternately stormed, and the neighbours, when they spoke of the notary, remonstrated, entreated; but all in vain. She shrugged their shoulders, and exclaimed, “Poor made the house too hot for him-he retreated to fellow! his spurs want sharpening.” In fine-you the tavern; she broke his long-stemmed pipes understand me, gentlemen-he was hen-pecked. upon the hand-irons, he substituted a shortWell, finding no peace at home, he sought it else- stemmed one, which, for safe keeping, he carried where, as was very natural for him to do; and at in his waistcoat pocket. Thus the unhappy notary length discovered a place of rest far beyond the ran gradually down at the heel. What with his cares and clamours of domestic life. This was a bad habits and his domestic grievances, he became little café estaminet, a short way out of the city, completely hypped. He imagined he was going whither he repaired every evening to smoke his to die, and suffered in quick succession all the pipe, drink sugar water, and play his favourite diseases that ever beset mortal man. Every game of domino. There he met the boon com. shooting pain was an alarming symptom, every panions he most loved; heard all the floating chit
uneasy feeling after dinner a sure prognostic of chat of the day; laughed when he was in a merry some mortal disease. In vain did his friends en. mood, found consolation when he was sad; and deavour to reason, and then to laugh him out of at all times gave vent to his opinions without fear his strange whims; for when did ever jest or of being snubbed short by a flat contradiction. reason cure a sick imagination ? His only answer Now, the notary's bosom friend was a dealer
was, “Do let me alone; I know better-I know in claret and cognac, who lived about a league better than you what ails me.” from the city, and always passed his evenings at Well, gentlemen, things were in this state, when, the estaminet. He was a gross, corpulent fellow, one afternoon in December, as he sat moping in raised from a full-blooded Gascon breed, and sired his office, wrapped in an overcoat, with a cap on by a comic actor of some reputation in his way. his head, and his feet thrust into a pair of furred He was remarkable for nothing but his good slippers, a cabriolet stopped at the door, and a loud humour, his love of cards, and a strong pro- knocking without aroused him from his gloomy pensity to test the quality of his own liquors by reverie. It was a message from his friend the comparing those sold at other places. As evil wine-dealer, who had been suddenly attacked with communications corrupt good manners, the bad
a violent fever, and, growing worse and worse,
had practices of the wine-dealer won insensibly upon
now sent in the greatest haste for the notary to the worthy notary; and before he was aware of it,
his last will and testament. be found himself weaned from domino and sugar
The case was urgent, and admitted neither exwater, and addicted to piquet and spiced wine.
cuse nor delay; and the notary, tying a handker. Indeed, it not unfrequently happened that, after a
chief round his face, and buttoning up to the chin, long session at the estaminet, the two friends jumped into the cabriolet, and suffered himself, grew so urbane, that they would waste a full
though not without some dismal presentiments half-hour at the door in friendly dispute which
and misgivings of heart, to be driven to the wineshould conduct the other home. Though this
dealer's house. When he arrived, he found every. course of life agreed well enough with the
thing in the greatest confusion. On entering the sluggish, phlegmatic temperament of the wine.
house, he ran against the apothecary, who was dealer, it soon began to play the very deuce with
coming down-stairs with a face as long as your the more sensitive organisation of the notary, and,
arm, and a few steps further he met the house.
THE NOTARY OF PERIGUEUX.
keeper-for the wine-dealer was an old bachelor beginning to walk up and down the room in derunning up and down and wringing her hands, for spair. “I am a dead man! and don't deceive me fear that the good man should die without making don't, will you? What—what are the symptoms?” his will. He soon reached the chamber of his "A sharp, burning pain in the right side," said sick friend, and found him tossing about in a the apothecary. paroxysm of fever, and calling aloud for a draught “Oh, what a fool I was to come here!” of cold water. The notary shook his head; he In vain did the housekeeper and the apothecary thought this a fatal symptom; for ten years back strive to pacify him. He was not a man to be the wine-dealer had been suffering under a species reasoned with. He answered that he knew his of hydrophobia, which seemed suddenly to have own constitution better than they did, and insisted left him. When the sick man saw who stood by upon going home without delay. Unfortunately, his bedside, he stretched out his hand, and ex- the vehicle he came in had returned to the city, and claimed, “ Ah, my dear friend! have you come at the whole neighbourhood was a-bed and asleep. last? You see it's all over with me. You have What was to be done ? Nothing in the world but Arrived just in time to draw up that—that passport to take the apothecary's horse, which stood bitched of mine. Ah! how hot it is here! Water-water- at the door, patiently waiting his master's will. water! Will nobody give me a drop of cold waterp” Well, gentlemen, as there was no remedy, our
As the case was an urgent one, the notary made notary mounted this raw-boned steed, and set no delay in getting his papers in readiness, and in forth upon his homeward journey. The night was a short time the last will and testament of the wine- cold and gusty, and the wind in his teeth. Overdealer was drawn up in due form, the notary head the leaden clouds were beating to and fro, guiding the sick man's hand as he scrawled his and through them the newly-risen moon seemed signature at the bottom. As evening wore away, to be tossing and drifting along like a cockboat in the wine-dealer grew worse and worse, and at the surf-now swallowed up in a huge billow of length became delirious, mingling in his inco- cloud, and now lifted up on its bosom and dashed herent ravings the phrases of the Credo and with silvery spray. The trees by the roadside Paternoster, with the shibboleth of the dram- groaned with a sound of evil omen; and before shop and the card-table.
him lay three mortal miles, beset with a thousand “Take care! take care! There, now! Credo in- imaginary perils. Obedient to the whip and spur, Pop! ting-a-ling-ling! give some of that Cent-e-dize! the steed leaped forward by fits and starts, now Why, you old publican, this wine is poisoned. I dashing away with a tremendous gallop, and now know your tricks—sanctam ecclesiam Catholicam, relaxing into a long, hard trot; while the rider, Well, well, we shall see. Imbecile ! to have a tierce filled with symptoms of disease and dire presentimajor and a seven of hearts, and discard the seven.” ments of death, urged him on as if he were fleeing
With these words upon his lips, the poor wine- before the pestilence. dealer expired. Meanwhile the notary sat cowering In this way, by dint of whistling and shouting, over the fire, aghast at the fearful scene that was and beating right and left, one mile of the fatal passing before him, and now and then trying to three was safely passed. The apprehensions of the keep up his courage by a glass of cognac. Already notary had so far subsided that he even suffered his fears were on the alert, and the idea of contagion the poor horse to walk up the hill; but these fitted to and fro through his mind. In order to apprehensions were suddenly revived again with quiet these thoughts of evil import, he lighted his tenfold violence by a sharp pain in the right side, pipe, and began to prepare for returning home. which seemed to pierce him like a needle. “It is At that moment the apothecary turned round to upon me at last!" groaned the fear-stricken man. him and said,
“ Heaven be merciful to me! And must I die in a " Dreadful síckly time this ; the disorder seems ditch after all? Hé! get up, get up!" And away to be spreading."
went horse and rider at full speed-hurry, scurry, “What disorder ?” exclaimed the notary, with up hill and down, panting and blowing like a whirl. a movement of surprise.
wind. At every leap the pain in the rider's side “Two died yesterday, and three to-day,” con- seemed to increase. At first it was a little point, tinued the apothecary, without answering the ques. like the prick of a needle, then it spread to the size tion : "very sickly time, sir, very."
of a half-franc piece, then covered a place as large “But what disorder is it? What disease has as the palm of your hand. It gained upon him fåst. carried off my friend here so suddenlyp”
The poor man groaned aloud in agony. Faster “What disease? Why, scarlet fever, to be sure." and faster sped the horse over the frozen ground, “And is it contagious ?”.
further and further spread the pain over his side. “Certainly."
To complete the dismal picture, the storm com“ Then I am a dead man!” exclaimed the notary, menced, snow mingled with rain ; but snow, and putting his pipe into his waistcoat pocket, and I rain, and cold were nought to him, for though