Of this ditch, some few vestiges can still be traced; and at two angles, which it forms, are two mounts, probably raised as the foundations of two small towers.' Within the last fifty or sixty years, by various persons digging and breaking up the eartb, have been discovered many men's and horses' bones, and ancient instruments of war.

In tbe year 918, Tamworth witnessed the submission of all the Mercian Tribes, together with the princes of Wales, to the sovereign power of Ethelfeda's brother Edward. From this period, till the era of the Conquest, nothing of importance is recorded. St. Edith, or Editha, is said to have founded a monastery here, but it is not certain she did. After the accession of the Norman Conqueror to the · English throne, Tamworth continued for some time a royal demesne, but was at last let at a certain rent to the lords of the castle. Queen Elizabeth, in the third year of her reign, constituted it a corporation; and which years after, first sent parliamentary representatives.


To an Old Friend.

REMEMBER you a rustic cottage boy,
Some thirty years ago!--Whose sacred joy
Was in the lonely lanes of flowering thorn,
To meditale at eve, and read at morn
Aloud, with measured pace and action meet;
Whence, those who dodged him to his loved retreat,
Would call him whimsical, and laugh,--and through
The village tell more of him than they knew :
For it was said--though not to college bred
He had a world of learning in his bead!
And this was given in proof-One sabbath day,
When the good vicar made unusual stay,
He climbed the reading-desk, and, venturous, took
A portion from his old black letter book :
Where he so well performed the parson's part,
That much he gained ou every rustic heart;
And many a pious dame, in foresight wise,
Observed-He surely to the church would rise!
But ah! this prophecy, though sage 'twas held,
As Merlin's once, has never been fulfilled.

Say, as you pass beneath the broad oak tree
Which overhangs the path beside the lea,

Or through the copse, or o'er the furzy down,
Where the high-road runs to your market town,
Do you ne'er think of him who once was seen,
All solitary, loitering o'er the green,
Forgetful of his errands!-A recluse,
Lost in soliloquy and thought abstruse,
Was he; and something he bad beard, and read,
Of living authors, and illustrious dead:
Of Pope and Homer he would sometimes speak,
How sweetly one sung English, t'other Greek :
He could recite the Elegy of Gray,
The songs of Shenstone, and the themes of Gay;
Aud largely quote from Thompson's rural page,
Or catch the spirit of Miltonic rage.
And though to rigid schools he little owed,
His learning from more trivial sources fowed;
From Town and Country Magazines he gained
One half the critic knowledge he obtained.
He posed the swains with mythologic lore;
And every borrowed book had pondered o'er.
Oft, too, -unconscious of the heinous crime
He wooed the yielding Muse, and smattered rhyme;
Hence priest and 'squire, on whom all eyes are bent,
Still dubbed him. PoET,' with a joint consent;
And hence the vulgar, with a frequent leer,
Echoed that title in his
But now, full long, has every favourite scene
Deserted by the Rustic Poet been:
No eye has lately seen him, museful, range
Beneath the trees that fence the lonely grange;
Or leaning o'er the rugged rail beside
The bridge, where rushes choke the struggling lide;
Or on the wild heath, 'midst the high, rank, broom,
Or where the yellow meadows breathe and bloom :
Ah no!-From all his much-loved walks, away
To town and cities, Fortune bade him stray;
To witness modes and manners strauge, and view
A different race from what of late he knew;
By proud refinement's fickle arts debased.
Depraved by luxury, or by crime disgraced.
Some little of self-knowledge did he gain,
But much experience of the world attain;
And what of learned lore his fate denied
In youth-his later mental toils supplied;
An heterogenous, superficial, store,
But if it serve through life he need no more,

Time was, he thought poetic powers divine Would ever make their happy owners shine, Exempt from vulgar toils, and common cares, And every curse wbich poor dependence shares; While wealth and honour, emulous, would pour Their favours round them jo a golden shower : But ah! the idle vision, long believed, Vanished, at length, and left him undeceived ; Then wisely spurniug false poetic pride, To bumbler arts his talents he applied;' Nor scorned what bards as drudgery dare despise, Who blame the world, which oft, they say, denies Its aid indulgent to the rhyming race, Nor own their want of prudence, or of grace; Though better 'twere, when hopes fallacious fail, To quit the pen, and choose the trustier flail.'. This useful lesson, early, learned the swain, Whose little history swells this hasty strain ; Hence, Heaven assisted, though estranged from wealthRaiment and food are his, and peace, and health. To some peculiarities inclined, He yet retains an independent mind; But-conscious still of imperfection-prone, With due bumility, his faults to own; Nor yet so vain is he to frame pretence To the least boon of liberal providence. And though allowed no longer wild to stray On the sweet banks of Stour, or Froom, or Wey, Full oft be ponders o'er those calm delights Of rural life;---and, when the Muse invites, At leisure intervals, bis mind unbends With soothing numbers; or with lettered friends, dan In whose society his heart o'erflows, Nor dares withhold the gratitude it owes ; While yet the tale of rustic days will charm with

The listening circle; and their hero warm, · Whose ardent bosom, still to feeling true, Respects old friends, though highly blessed with new.



. Her faults were mine...her virtues were her own :
I loved her, and destroyed her!


VERY sumnjer I take a little excursion: in 1819 29 I went through the wildest and most secluded

I parts of Switzerland; I took up my residence during one stormy night, in a convent of Capuchin Friars, not far from Altorf, the birthplace of the celebrated William Téll. In the course of the evening one of the fathers related :

a story, in the most impressive manner, and um

in a style that produced a very strong effect on my mind. It relates to an ancient family, now extinct.

His soul was wild, impetuous, and uncontrollable. He had a keen perception of the faults and vices of others, without the power of correcting his own ; alike sensible of the nobility, and of the darkness of his moral constitution, although unable to cultivate the one to the exclusion of the other.

In extreme youth, he led a lonely and secluded life in the solitude of a Swiss valley, in company with an only brother, some years older than himself, and a young fe. male relative; who had been educated with thein from her birth. They lived under the care of an aged uncle, the guardian of those extensive domains which the brothers were destined jointly to inherit.

A peculiar melancholy, cherished and increased by the utter seclusion of that sublime region, had, during the period of their infancy, preyed upon the mind of their father, and finally produced the most dreadful result. The fear of a similar tendency induced their protector to remove them, at an early age, from the solitude of their native country. The elder was sent to a Geripan aniversily, and the youngest completed his education in one of the Italian schools.

After the lapse of many years, the old guardian died, and the elder of the brothers returned to his native valley; he there formed an attachment to the lady with whom he had passed his infancy; and she, after some fear ful forebodings, which were vufortunately silenced by the voice of duty and of gratitude, accepted of his love, and became his wife.

'In the mean time the younger brother had left Italy, and travelled over the greater part of Europe. He mingled with the world, and gave full scope to every impulse of his feelings. But that world, with the exception of certain hours of boisterous passion and excitement, afforded him little pleasure, and made no lasting impression upon his heart. His greatest joy was in the wildest impulses of the imagination.

His spirit, though mighty and unbounded, from bis early habits and education, naturally tended to repose; he thought with delight on the sun rising among the Alpine snows, or gilding the peaks of the rugged hills with its evening rays. But within him he felt a fire burniug for ever, and which the snows of his native mountains could not quench. He feared that he was alone in the world, and that no being, kindred to his own, had been created; but in his soul there was an image of angelic perfection, which he believed existed not on earth, but without which he knew he could not be happy. Despairing to find it in populous cities, he retired to his paternal domain. On again entering upon the scenes of his infancy, many new and singular feelings were experienced; he is enchanted with the surpassing beauty of the scenery, and wonders that he should have rambled so long and so far from it, The noise and the bustle of the world were immediately forgotten on contemplating

• The silence;that is in the starry sky).

The sleep that is among the lonely hills. A light, as it were, broke around him, and exhibited a strange and momentary gleam of joy and of misery mingled together. He entered the dwelling of his infancy with delight, and met his brother with emotion. But his dark and troubled eye betokened a fearful change when he beheld the other playmate of bis infancy. Though beautiful as the imagination could conceive, she appeared otherwise tban he expected. Her form and face were associated with some of his wildest reveries; his feelings of affection were united with many undefinable sensations; he felt as if she was not the wife of his brother, although he knew her to be so, and his soul sickened at the thought.

"He passed the night in a feverish state of joy and horror. From the window of a lonely tower he beheld the moon shining amid the bright blue of an Alpine sky, and diffusing a calm and beautiful light on the silvery snow. The eagle owl uttered her long and plaintive note from

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