followed it. The vault at length suddenly opened into a lofty gallery, in the midst of which a figure appeared, completely armed, thrusting forwards the bloody stump of an arm, with a terrible frown and menacing gesture, and brandishing a sword in his hand. Sir Bertrand undauntedly sprung forwards; and aiming a fierce blow at the figure, it instantly vanished, letting fall a massy iron key. The flame now rested upon a pair of ample folding doors at the end of the gallery. Sir Bertrand went up to it, and applied the key to a brazen lock-with difficulty he turned the bolt-instantly the doors flew open and discovered a large apartment, at the end of which was a coffin rested upon a bier, with a taper burning on each side of it. Along the room, on both sides, where gigantic statues of black marble, attired in the Moorish habit, and holding enormous sabres in their right hands. Each of them raised his arm, and advanced one leg forwards, as the knight entered; at the same moment the lid of the coffin flew open, and the bell tolled. The flame still glided forwards, and Sir Bertrand resolutely followed, till he arrived within six paces of the coffin. Suddenly a Lady in a shroud and black veil rose up in it, and stretched out her arms towards him-at the same time the statues clashed their sabres and advanced. Sir Bertrand flew to the lady, and clasped her in his arms-she threw up her veil, and kissed his lips; and instantly the whole building shook as with an earthquake, and fell with a horrible crash. Sir Bertrand was thrown into a sudden trance, and on recovering found himself seated on a velvet sofa, in the most magnificent room he had ever seen, lighted with innumerable tapers, in lustres of pure crystal. A sumptuous banquet was set in the middle. The doors opening to soft music, a lady of incomparable beauty attired with amazing splendour, entered, surrounded by a troop of gay nymphs more fair than the Graces-She advanced to the knight, and falling on her knees thanked him as her deliverer. The nymphs placed a garland of laurel upon his head, and the lady led him by the hand to the ban quet, and sat beside him. The nymphs placed themselves at the table, and a numerous train of servants entering, served up the feast : delicious music playing all the time. Sir Bertrand could not speak for astonishment-he could only return their honours by courteous looks and ges tures. After the banquet was finished, all retired but the lady, who leading back the knights to the sofa, addressed him in these words. *

*

NORTHWARD of Harewood, in the West Riding of Yorkshire, a little before you arrive at the Bridge, is a beautiful view of the river Wharfe, above which there are large portions of an ancient Castle, which, at the time of the Conquest, is reported to have been in the possession of Romillé, from whose family it descended to that of Delisles, by the marriages of their children. It was afterwards the property of Sir W. Aldburgh, then it belonged to the Redmans, who used it as their chief mansion in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. In the church there is a splendid monument raised to the memory of the latter family.

From the ravages which time has made, no exact account can be given of its size or strength; but it appears to have consisted of a square centre, a north oblong wing, and the south-east and south-west sides have been ornamented with two square towers. The entrance gate has been about high enough to admit a person on horseback. Within this gate there is a groove intended for a portcullis. In the hall is still to be seen a splendid recess, built in the style of a monument; and in a room over the porch on the east side there is a superb display of the arms of characters long since forgotten.

NO. XIX.

U

CHURCHILL'S GRAVE.

(A FACT LITERALLY RENDERED.)

I STOOD beside the grave of him who blazed
The comet of a season, and I saw

The humblest of all sepulchres, and gazed
With not the less of sorrow and of awe
On that neglected turf and quiet stone,
With name no clearer than the names unknown:
Which lay unread around it; and I asked
The Gardener of that ground, why it might be
That for this plant strangers his memory tasked
Through the thick deaths of half a century:
And thus he answered-"Well, I do not know
Why frequent travellers turn to pilgrims so;
He died before my day of Sextonship,
And I had not the digging of his grave."
And is this all? I thought-and do we rip
The veil of Immortality? and crave
I know not what of honour and of light
Through unborn ages, to endure this blight?
So soon and so successless? As I said,
The Architect of all on which we tread,
For Earth is but a tombstone, did essay
To extricate remembrance from the clay,

Whose minglings might confuse a Newton's thought
Were it not that all life must end in one,
Of which we are but dreamers?—as he caught
As 'twere the twilight of a former Sun,

Thus spoke he.-"I believe the mau of whom
You wot, who lies in this selected tomb,
Was a most famous writer in his day,

And therefore travellers step from out their way
To pay him honour, and myself whate'er

Your honour pleases,"-then most pleased I shook
From out my pocket's avaricious nook,
Some certain coins of silver, which as 'twere
Perforce I gave this man, though I could spare
So much but inconveniently;-ye smile,
1 see ye, ye profane ones: all the while,
Because my homely phrase the truth would tell.
You are the fools, not I-for I did dwell
With a deep thought, and with a soften'd eye,
On that old Sexton's natural homily,
In which there was Obscurity and Fame,
The Glory and the Nothing of a Name.

BYRON.

MAN'S ASYLUM.

(FROM THE FRENCH OF DELAVIGNE.)

THE bird may fly off to the nest
That cradled its earliest rest;

The roe-buck may bask 'neath the tree;
The hare from the hunters may flee;
The worm in an apple may lie;
'Neath a leaf may be sheltered the fly?
All may peace from their enemies save-
But Man's refuge is only the grave.

IT is curious that we pay statesmen for what they say, not for what they do; and judge of them from what they do, not from what they say. Hence they have one code of maxims for profession, and another for practice, and make up their consciences, as the Neapolitans do their beds, with one set of furniture for show, and another for

use.

"I WAS amused," says Mrs.Graham in her Journal, "at the apparent apathy of the Brazilian shopkeepers. If they are engaged, as now is not unfrequently the case, in talking politics or reading a newspaper, or perhaps only enjoying a cool seat in the back of their shop, they will often say they have not the article inquired for, rather than rise to fetch it; and if the customer persists to point it out in the shop, he is coolly desired to get it for himself, and lay down the money."

IT happens to men of learning as to ears of corn; they shoot up, and rise their heads high, while they are empty; but when full and swelled with grain, they begin to flag and droop.

TO THE RAINBOW.

TRIUMPHAL arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud philosophy

To teach me what thou art.

Still seem as to my childhood's sight
A midway station given,

For happy spirits to alight

Betwixt the earth and heaven,

Can all that optics teach unfold
Thy form to please me so,
As when I dreamt of gems and gold
Hid in thy radiant bow?

When Science from Creation's face
Enchantment's veil withdraws,
What lovely visions yield their place
To cold material laws!

And yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams,
But words of the Most High,

Have told why first thy robe of beams
Was woven in the sky.

When o'er the green undeluged earth
Heaven's covenant thou didst shine,
How came the world's grey fathers forth
To watch thy sacred sign?

And when its yellow lustre smiled
O'er mountains yet untrod,

Each mother held aloft her child
To bless the bow of God.