JOHN HAMPDEN is a name of considerable celebrity in connection with English history and the cause of civil freedom. This distinguished man was born in London in the year 1594. His parents were descended from an ancient family, who possessed landed property in the county of Buckingham. He was cousin to Oliver Cromwell, who ruled in Great Britain, having the title of "the Protector," after the death of Charles the First.

In the reign of queen Elizabeth, Griffith Hampden, Esq., filled the office of high sheriff of Buckinghamshire, and was visited by the queen, who was entertained at Hampden with magnificent hospitality. An avenue was then cut through the adjacent woods, to make a new road-way for the queen and her retinue; and this avenue is yet known by the designation of the "Queen's Gap."

The village of Hampden is about 37 miles westward from London; and is situate between High Wycombe and Aylesbury. The surrounding scenery is very beautiful. In the neighbourhood there are fine extensive prospects, agreeably diversified by hills and dales, and finely wooded and culti

vated. The woods of Hampden terminate at the brow of a hill, called "Green Haly," on the side of which is a very curious relic of antiquity. This is a very large figure of a cross cut on the side of the hill, and which is seen at great distances. The hill being composed of chalk, the figure of a cross, has been made by clearing away the surface down to the chalk. Thus a white cross is made to appear, which, from its great size and whiteness, can be seen many miles distant. This cross is called the "White-Leaf Cross," and is supposed to have been formed to commemorate a battle fought near the spot.

Hampden mansion is an ancient building, of various styles of architecture. The church stands near to the mansion, and contains several monumental records of the Hampden family. The dust of John Hampden, the celebrated patriot before referred to, lies in this church. He was educated at Magdalen College, Oxford; and afterwards studied for the legal profession. In the year 1626, he was elected member of parliament; and was, until his death, a leading member of the opposition to the government of Charles the First.

The Parliament having refused to make laws, for the raising of such an amount of money as, the king and his ministers were of opinion, was required for the maintenance of the army and navy, the king proceeded to levy taxes without the consent of Parliament. This was resisted by Mr. Hampden; and he disputed the king's authority thus to levy taxes, in a trial at law. The majority of the judges gave judgment in favour of the king. The proceedings in this trial, however, aroused the anger of the nation, and hastened the civil war, which resulted in the beheading of king Charles.

Shortly before the commencement of the terrible war between the king and his subjects, Mr. Hampden, and five other members of the House of Commons, were accused of high treason, and the king went with a body of soldiers to the house to arrest them; but they had received warning and had escaped. The House of Commons resented the attempt of the king to arrest its accused members, and prepared to resist the king's authority. Mr. Hampden was by the Parliament entrusted with the command of a regiment

and was engaged in a battle fought at Edgehill, in the county of Warwick, on October the 23rd, 1642. In a battle fought on the 18th of June, 1643, at Chalgrove-field, in Oxfordshire, he was wounded, and six days after died. The following prayer is said to have been offered by him when he was dying: "O Lord God of hosts, great is thy mercy, just and holy are thy dealings unto we sinful men. Save me, O Lord, if it be thy will from the jaws of death. Pardon my manifold transgressions. O Lord, save my bleeding country; have these realms in thy special keeping. Confound and level in the dust those who would rob the people of their liberty and lawful prerogative. Let the king see his error, and turn the hearts of his wicked counsellors from the malice and wickedness of their designs. Lord Jesus receive my soul." He died at Thame, in Oxfordshire, and was burried at Hampden.

Awful were the effects of this war. The king was much to be blamed, and also to be pitied. He had evil counsellors, and they brought evil upon him, and upon the country. We pray and hope that this country may never again be ravaged by civil war-but that its inhabitants may ever enjoy the blessings of peace at home and we pray that Great Britain may be at peace with all the nations of the earth.

The last male descendant of the Hampden family, and occupant of the family mansion, died in the year 1754. The property then passed into the possession of the Right Hon. R. Trevor, and from him descended to the Duke of Buckingham.

BROTHER AND SISTER UNITED IN DEATH.

BY STELLA.

As I sit alone, in the long winter evenings, gazing vacantly upon the dying embers, the village where I was born rises up, forming a beautiful fresco painting upon the chamber of my soul. There, in the foreground, is the little white cottage which resounded to our childish mirth. Opposite is the village church. I remember sitting in it, a very little girl, and hearing the venerable pastor, who had laboured there many years, discourse on this beautiful

text: "Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto souls; your for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Leading down from the cottage, is the street by which our father approached his home, after the business of the day was over; and along which my curly-headed sister and I ran to meet him. She always outstripped me, though nearly three years younger than I; but he took us both up in his arms, and brought us to the house; where our careful mother sat, sewing or knitting, by the side of our little sister's cradle. Our little sister! She was fair and beautiful as an angel! She was lent to us five summers, and then God took her home. Dear sister, you are now nineteen years old, and fourteen of those years have been spent in heaven!

In one corner hung the black velvet bag, which we had designated "Noah's Ark," because our grandmother regularly filled it with cakes, and nuts, and all sorts of sweet nondescripts. Behind the house is the garden, where black Tom dug among the flower-beds in the beautiful spring time. He used to tell us stories of "Peggie," and "Little Red Riding Hood," a thousand times over, and yet the thousandth time they possessed all the charm of novelty, and we awaited the recital with the same breathless anxiety with which we had listened at first. Back of the garden stands the old walnut-tree, beneath which we used to sit and crack the nuts, and stain our fingers and lips with the rinds.

All around are the hills upon which the village was built, dotted over with houses nestling down amid the green trees; and, overlooking all, to the north-east, is a high hill, upon which stands the house of one of the happiest families of our village. Nothing about the house was northeast, but its direction from the town; all else was warm and south, and sunny. The family consisted of the father, a man of consideration and dignity; the mother, the noble daughter of a noble father; and eleven children, all bright, and cheerful, and merry-hearted; for the spirit of the mother ever pervades the household, like latent electricity in water. It was a lovely sight to see them! They all

grew up to manhood and womanhood; for when the angel of death looked in upon them, and saw their beaming faces, with the happy mother in their midst, and heard their ringing voices of joy, his mournful eye filled with tears of pity and pleasure; and whispering, "Nay, but let these be spared awhile!" he turned away, his shadow only-the sickness of an hour-having fallen upon them.

But time wore on, and necessity loosened, or rather lengthened, the bonds which death had hesitated to sever. Several of the daughters had married, and found other homes; still throwing out, like candelabra, the light they had imbibed at their own father's hearthstone. A vacancy was also made by the departure of a son, who went to cast himself amid the wrestling and struggling of the anxious world. He was the quietest and gentlest of them all, at least they loved to think so afterward; and when he was gone, and his chair stood unoccupied, his parents looked upon it, and felt as if they loved him best-the absent one; and the time seemed to grow very long while he was away.

When his mother and sisters thought of him, there was still one drop of pain that ever mingled with the sweet recollections that came bubbling up in their hearts. Though kind, and gentle, and tenderly obliging, "he was still without God in the world." Ah, who can tell the desolation conveyed by those words" without God," who is our all of light, and hope, and comfort! Far from him, wandering over the bleak and barren mountains of sin; struggling on, we know not whither; and at times pausing amid the dreary wild, when our hearts stand still for terror, and we listen again for the "still small voice" which has said to us so often and so beseechingly

"Come back, this is the way;

Come back and walk therein !"

but all is a dreadful silence, and we fear that we have grieved the Spirit of the Lord, and He has left us for ever; and yet, peradventure, He has not forgotten us; and when we lie gasping for breath, and dying, He shows us the well of water in the wilderness.

Thus it was with John; mindful of the demands of every