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worst."

differently meant, as intended to satirize place had been the stranger's destinahis suspicious tardiness, regarded the lion. speaker with a scowl, which, however,

" Plainly ;--We

were journeying to passed unnoticed. He seated himself that village for the purpose of going on again in the chair, and apparently regard- board a vessel which sails to-morrow. less of the persons around, or the conver. But you are, I presume, a stranger here sation which ensued, appeared deep!y by that question?" engaged in thought. The stranger threw However willing to learn the affairs of himself across the entrance to the inner others, it was by no means the intention chamber, and placing his cloak for a pile of Richard to discover his own; he therelow, appeared fast resigning himself to fore mumbled out an inarticulate answer, slumber. Richard lay near him ; and and pretending to be overpowered with Hans Molken, with whom sudden im slumber, stretched himself on the ground, pulses were rare, and consequently over- and counterfeited snoring, which speedily powering, when attended, as in the pre- changed to real nasal oratory. sent instance, with physical exertion, lay One hour passed away, and then the sleeping on the bench.

Cavalier, who had carefully replenished " The storm is dying away," said Ri. the fire, carefully rose, took a flaming chard, “ I think, sir, you buffeted the brand, and advancing to the stranger,

passed it repeatedly before his eyes. Не No answer followed, and Richard, slept profoundly : the brand was thrown dying with curiosity to know what cir- down, and the inquirer grasped the arm cumstances had placed the stranger and of Richard, and shook it gently; the first his fair companion in so perilous a situa- touch aroused him, and he sprang from tion, puzzled his brains to discover some the ground. mode of ascertaining this fact without ad. Is there danger, sir ?" he demanded, venturing a direct question; this, indeed, and his hand caught his sword. he cared not to hazard; for there was a “ No: silence and follow me," was certain flashing in the stranger's eye, the reply, and Richard obeyed. which seemed to say, mere idle curiosity The Cavalier threw open the door of the would not obtain its paltry end from him; hut, and stepped out on the cliff, followed and Richard wisely considered, that to closely by his companion. Having arouse anger in the man whom he had closed again the door, and advanced some assisted to save from destruction, parti. trifling distance, he paused, and looked cularly one so well armed, (for having around him. The storm had died away, thrown off his cloak, pistols and a sword and a clear night had succeeded its viowere plainly visible,) would be neither lence ; the moon was now sinking, while generous nor prudent.

in the east, a few streaks of early light A short pause ensued, and then the foretold the approach of dawn. The cliff reflections of Richard, struggling with

on which the hovel stood divided the comhis curiosity, produced the following re mon road to Brighthelmstone from the mark.

coast;

the ascent to it from the road was ' 'Twas fortunate, sir, you had not sleep, but far from difficult, while the horses :-- had you been mounted, the part that fronted the ocean overhung it chances are fifty to one, the headstrong in some trifling degree. A rugged path, animals would have sprung from the dangerous to inexperienced climbers, led cliff.”

from the but to the sea-shore beneath it, “ We were mounted,” was the reply, and the tattling neighbours sometimes “ but terrified at the lightning, our jaded said, that Hans Molken might be seen ocsteeds refused to move, and fearful of casionally toiling up it with a hamper on goading, lest they should become despe. his back—but perhaps this was rate, and carry us to death, and likewise scandal. observing the light from this cot, we de Clifford, for such was the name, assumtermined to dismount and seek sheltered or real, of the Cavalier, appeared lost here until the dawn. Fatigued before, in thought, and Richard stood by his the lady found herself inadequate to the side with his arms folded on his breast, exertion of climbing the steep, and being patiently awaiting whatever his compaunable to discover my way to this door, nion might eventually choose to commuand unknowing likewise whether tren nicate. ches crosse the path, I shouted loudly, “ You remember," at length he said, and you kindly came to my assistance." " that while concealed in the house of

“Can then the light in this cottage be Sir Roger Myrston, I became desperately seen from the road to Brighthelmstone ?”, enamoured of his fair daughter, the Lady demanded Richard, well knowing it Roselle. might, but wishing to ascertain if that "I do remember it well, sir," answer.

mere

woman.

ed his companion drily, " and I also re to yonder smack :"-his finger pointed member that you fell likewise desperately out a light which shone on the ocean's, in love, at the same period, with her surface at some distance. “ We will cousin who was visiting there, and her conceal the Colonel as she passes from her cousin's sister, and also her own waiting, sleeping room, and a well told tale that

he awaits her coming, in the boat, will “ Nonsense, Richard, nonsense ; it was induce her to descend the cliff in quietthe beauteous Roselle, aud her only, I ness; we can pretend to suppose he is adored.”

gone on board, and left us to follow him ; Perhaps so, sir; and I recollect I once there, leave to me the charge of deused to think then that your passion was precating her anger.” increased because you knew she loved “ Pardon me, sir, with this wild plot I another."

will have nought to do.” The speaker " It might be so: The girl must sure- had expected a burst of anger at this plain ly be bewitched to love a rascally Round. avowal, but it came not, and, consequenthead, with his sanctimonious phiz, and ly emboldened, he continued :hypocritical eye, impious conversation, " To rob a Roundhead of his intended and rebellious sentiments."

bride I would have no objection ; but to “ I never, I must confess, sir, saw, oppress one who has led to your refuge Colonel Selworth ; but people do say he for safety, agrees not with my temperais very different from the character you ment, nor will it with yours, I'am certain, describe, except in the last particular, if you will but dispassionately observe and that, perchance, renders him inter- your purposed conduct. Moreover, sir, esting in the lady's eyes."

it will be but ill requiting the hospitality “Well, well, a truce to this trifling," and loyalty of Sir Roger Myrsion to said Clifford, warmly, “ listen to me; of carry away his daughter to a distant all that I have loved, or fancied I loved, land.” the daughter of Myrston reigns pre-emi “ Have you done, sir ?" inquired Clifnent; nay, so much do I adore her, that ford. the greatest love I ever felt before sinks Richard bowed. into mere admiration in the comparison. I cannot say," continued the former, Richard," and he grasped his arm al “ that I ever heard Barebones, the leainost convulsively, “ give me but your ther-seller of Fleet-street, preach ; but, assistance, and she shall become the part. it appears to me, that you would far ner of my exile,”

eclipse him in lessons of morality. Be His companion staggered back several that as it may, allow me to congratulate steps, overcome with sudden astonishment you on your conversion from staunch caat its unexpected conclusion.

valier to Roundhead preacher, inform the “ Is it possible ! Do I hear aright?" worthy burgesses you have had a mira

“ Yes, yes, she has fled from her culous call, relate all you know respectfather, the firm old royalist, with Crom- ing that reprobate fellow called Charles well's officer, Robert Selworth, and they Stuart,—not forgetting to receive a reward

for the same; bring a guard to this hovel, " Where?” demanded Richard. deliver into their hands the person of your Clifford pointed to the cottage :

obedient servant, and then, as a return “They sleep there; they are the fugitives." , for what silly persons will call treachery,

“ Then that,” said Richard exulting- preach and expound to him all the way ly, “ explains why they come to be tra to the scaffold. Away, sir !" velling so late. Doubtless they leave Richard bowed lowly, and turned to England, she to fly from her father's re withdraw. sentment, for having dared to love a Clifford watched his proceedings with Roundhead; he to free himself from the troubled surprize, and having allowed power of Cromwell, having dared to love him to advance several steps towards the daughter of a Cavalier.”

the hovel, followed and caught his arm “ Pause not now to speculate so use

« Richard, where go you ?lessly, but listen to my plan, and remem I go, sir, to my resting place, to ber that, in assisting to rob' a Roundhead sleep for another hour ; with the dawn I of his intended bride, you assist to avenge will return to London.” your king on one of his enemies. Here Do so," replied Clifford, throwing is a powder, it is a powerful soporific; violently away the arm he had grasped, mix it with brandy, and dexterously con “ do so, and prithee do not forget my trive to induce the Roundhead Colonel to instructions respecting your future contake it. It will immediately take effect, duct.” and undeterred by his presence, or inter “ Ere I leave here, I trust, sir, to see ference, we can bear the lovely Roselle you in safety in yonder vessel.”

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“ Richard, Richard, why will you not Couldst thou not spare us, uncle?" then they assist me? Add to your inestiinable ser

wept,

And soon in death-like stupor calmly slept. vices but this one action, and my grati

I look'd upon them sleeping, and beheld tude will be everlasting.”

Each little face with strong convulsions swellid; A long and somewhat impatient argu

The truth flash'd on me, and I turn'd away

To drop a silent tear,-but where are they? ment ensued, and, as it generally happens, that when a superior condescends to the spot of my dream was changed,--and I intreat and flatter an inferior, he gains his Beheld another scene of misery. point, so Richard at length agreed to for Deep in a dungeon lay a ghastly thing, ward the designs of the Cavalier.

Who (some vague voice declared) was once a

king: ||
(To be continued.)

Soon to this den there came a stately lord,
Full well caparison'd with casque and sword,

And at that miserable man he spurn'd
THE TOWER OF LONDON.

With words of insult deep; then calmly turn'd (For the Olio.)

To whet his dagger's point upon the floor,

And gilt it reeking in his victim's gore. True, I talk of dreams.-SHAKSPEARE. “ Die, foul usurper, die!” the murderer cried,

And Gloster smiled to see the swelling tide. The sun had set; and in the dark blue sky The moon bad lit her silver lamp on high;

Again the spirit of my dream was changed; Night had veil'd all things in a sable fleece, And busy noise had slumber'd into peace:

And now midst yawning sepulchres I ranged :

These were not tenantless, but every grave No more was heard the buz of men around,

Its varied victim's tale of horror gave,
But balmy sleep and silence reign'd profound:

Here saw I many a form of loveliness,
And I, like them, was cradled into rest,
My wearied senses were with sleep opprest;

Who shriek'd with piercing cry of wild dis

tress! But, as in deep repose my body lay,

For on each slender neck a velvet band
My busy mind was wandering far away.
Methought I stood upon a river's side,

Was tightly bound; and when with curious

hand Near an old bridge that spann’d the gushing One I unclasp'd,

-lo! gory streams around, tide, And mark'd the moon-beams, as they slept +

And a grim head fell gasping to the ground | I

One, too, I saw, who ever lifted up around

To his parch'd lips a blood-besprinkled cup; In modest beauty on the dewy ground,

But when he tasted, with a hideous cry, Rest on an ancient turret ; spangling far

He dash'd from him the bowl despairingly: Its battled heights with many a silver star.

And ever and anon he madly laugh’d,
Not high it rose, aspiring to the sky,
As the tall fir lists up its head on high,

And shriek’d, “Enough, enough has Clarence But rather, like the lion in his lair,

quaff’d!++ Crouch'd, proudly frowning at the moonbeam

Smiling as morn, still bright in beauty's bloom,

Victim unmeet for the relentless tomb, fair There rose “ Twr Gwyn," the eldest of the

Here, too, was Anna, innocent and fair; 1 four,

What monster, lovely one, had sent thee

there? Whose mortar was of pounded bones and

Ye London towers, with many a murder fed, gore! I Beside it stood the “ Rufus Tower,”

"_behind

Where guilt and innocence alike have bled, “ The bloody turret," and “ the Lion's

Could not your very gates refuse to close

On such a spotless, such a beauteous rose ?
Wynde.”
The spirit of my dream was changed; and

Vast was the chamber, long, and pillar'd highsg
With instruments of warlike panoply:

File above fire the cluster'd muskets stood No longer sbone for me the smiling moon.

High to the ceiling; gaping wide for blood --It was a darksome passage, where the ray

Was many a bell-mouth'd musquetoon beneath, Of morn ne'er chased the hues of night away;

Or daggers, thirsty messengers of death. Damp was the echoing ground, and on the

Ranged on the wall in fancy's pattern, bright wall

A thousand sabres shed their wavy light; Was hung around sepulchral mildew's pall.

And pictured serpents, fierce with bristling I was alone,--but as I grop'd along,

scales, Methought I heard a low soft solemn song;

Brandish'd in steely wreaths their venom'd I look'd, and palely flickering, hover'd nigh

tails.
Two lovely cherub forms of infancy !
But on each face I mark'd the hue of death;
I thought they sobb'd, and seem'd to gasp for

Emblem of British liberty and might,
breath!

The crown with precious gems was sparkling And one cried, “ Uncle, wherefore didst thou

bright; send 6

The regal sceptre, jewell'd rich, was here; || || Those cruel men our little lives to end?

The ivory dove of peace was hovering near:
Stern Justice held on high her whetted blade,

But Mercy's blunted sword the vengeance due † How sweet the inoonbeam sleeps upon yon

delay'd. bank.

SHAKSPEARE 1." Twr Gwyn,” or the White Tower, ac || Henry VI., “the meek usurper, mur cording to Fitzstephen, had its foundations dered in the Tower by Gloster. stone laid in blood “ The Rufus Tower" was 1 The idea from Goethe. built by William II. “ The Bloody Tower,” ++ Clarence was drowned in a butt of aptly so called from its being the prison; and Malmsey wine. “the Lion's Wynde" was the ancient mena #1 Anna Boleyn was executed at the Tower. gerie of one of the Edwards.

The modern Armoury. Ø Edward V. and his brother were murdered Il The Regalia, viz. the crown, the royal in the Bloody Tower by their uncle, Richard sceptre, the ivory sceptre, the sword of justice. INI.

and the sword of mercy.

soon

BINDON HILL.

Such was my varied dream :-if my weak of mountains. « Now therefore give to

pen Has fail'd in telling it to thee again,

ine,” said Caleb to Joshua, “ this moun. Remember thou, at least my waking thought; lain, whereof the Lord spoke in that day : If Justice spare not these, yet Mercy ought. for thou heardest in that day how the

OBADIAH. Anakims were there, and that the cities were great and fenced.”

Mount Tabor, BRITISH ANTIQUITIES.

according to Maundrel and Pocoke, appears to have been fortified with ramparts and ditches, and that within the de.

fences were a number of cisterns formed Continued.

under ground, for preserving the rain(For the Olio.)

water, being a place of such vast natural

strength, as not only to be resorted to by The question naturally now arises— Barak in the time of the Judges of Israel, By whom were these strong bulwarks on the invasion of Sisera, but also to have erected, or thrown up!--for they appear been made use of against Antiochus, to be different from any other encamp- king of Syria, who besieged and took it ment that we have seen or heard of in by Josephus, who fortified it with addiEngland. Were not the Britons then the tional walls when the Romans invaded original founders ? We certainly think Judea. not. We believe these ramparts to have But these cities on the tops of high been the defensive works of the PHONE- hills, it must be allowed, are neither peCIANS. On what grounds ? we think we culiar to the Phænecians or the Britons ; hear our readers ask. We answer, first, their remains are to be found amid the not only from its situation, but its stone vast wilds of America, and, filled with walls, its singular outer-entrance, and its inhabitants in our day, in the islands of circular towers; the discovery lately made New Zealand. by a gentleman in the neighbouring isle Don Antonio de Ullo informs us that of Purbeck, of a settlement for traffic of one Indian method of fortification was that people, and also the name it bears, “to dig three or four ranges of moats which

purely Phonecian; Bhin, in quite round the tops of such mountains as, that language, signifying a lofty emi. though steep and high, were not subject nence, while don in Celtic, is the name to frosts ; every one of which moats was of a fortress, the same as dun in the Scy. strengthened by a parapet or bank, whence thian. There is also a small lake in the they could safely annoy the enemy; these neighbourhood on the borders of Purbeck, were called Paccuras. The innermost called Luckford, from Luc, in the Phoe- bank was always higher than those which necian, the sun; in the Latin, Lux, were outermost, and within this inner. light; English, luck, the metaphor of most bank and its moat, they built their prosperity, represented by light. The huts or barracks.” lake is therefore " 'l he Waters of the Nor was the inconvenience of being Sun.” And again, that the Phoenecians supplied with water only from the foun. traded and made settlements on these west. tains of Heaven in these hill-cities an unern shores, is beyoud all contradiction. common thing. The tale of Judith is one The circular keep-lower of Launceston instance; and in the days of Josephus, Castle in Cornwall, is to this day an ex- (De Bello Jud. c. 1, sec. 1 and 15,) we isting monument of their architecture, hind that the city Jofopata, which was and in Cornish legend, and the Welch built on a precipice, and had on all sides Triads, the Phænecian is represented except one, valleys of immense depth aad under the figure of the red and bony steepness, was supplied solely with raingiant, " Raddwn Gaur." Those tra

waler, there being no fountain in the ders, those merchant princes, have left city. Two of these dry wells or cisterns undeniable marks of their residence on we have lately discovered in another Bri. these coasts in the etymology of the names tish bill-city. Respecting one of these of various places, but want of room for- cities in the present day, we shall give a bids us to enlarge on this subject; suf- curious and interesting extract from Didfice it for the present to say that Kernew diard Nicholas's narrative of a voyage to or Cornwall, is derived from the Phæne. Zealand in 1814 and 15. cian Cheren, a horn.

“ Duaterra, the chief, having got all Another proof is the similarity of Bin- his property on shore, was now ready to don to the hill-cities of the East. In Pa- conduct me to his town, which, standing, lestine, the land of the Phonecians, we as I mentioned, on the summit of a hill, read of numerous fenced cities on the tops rendered the approach to it a work of

some labour and fatigue. * Vide Monumenta Antiqua.

time."

turn.

" Before we reached the top we could ther, in after ages, it quietly submitted to perceive the town was a fortress of great the invincible arins of Vespasian, or was strength, considering the rude mode of taken by storm, during the progress of warfare pursued in this island. It was the all-subduing Romans, and its brave encompassed with a deep and wide trench, but wretched inhabitants put to the sword, on the inside of which was formed a breast.. cannot possibly, at this remote period, be work of long stakes stuck into the ground, ascertained. at a short distance from each other. Pas He who wanders amid thy scattered sing this fortification, we entered the town fragments, thou desolate city of the hill, itself, which consisted of huts built on when the inoon makes the undulating each side of litle lanes or rather path- ocean below beautiful with her silvery ways, for they were barely wide enough light, cannot but heave a sigh for thy fate for one person to pass through at a -for the fleeting vision of thy warlike

strength and renown. Thy walls, proud Here we have a complete picture of Bindon, are fallen! The red gaunt giant an ancient British hill-city.

But to re of battle hangs not the savage trophies of

fight, the ghastly heads of his conquered About 350 years before the birth of enemies, around thy towers,*-the tra. Christ, the Belge, after passing the veller enters not thy gates,-thy horseRhine, and obtaining possession of the men and charioteers no longer rush forth northern provinces of Gaul, soon crossed to battle,-nor blaze thy mountain ramthe channel, aud wholly subdued, nay, parts with the sun-brightened armour of Hearly annihilated the Celts on the coast warriors ! The generations that have of Kent, Sussex, Hants, Dorset, and dwelt in thee are passed away, as the Cornwall. The primeval tribes of the moonlight clouds glide o'er the dim waters Bibroce, Sigontiaci, Durotriges, Hædui, and are seen no more. Cimbri, and Carnabii, all fled before them, Silence and solitude rest upon thee and where those had dwelt they fixed save when the ocean-eagle screams to the their own colonies of the Cantii, the setting sun from the craggy cliffs, and Rheni, the Belgæ proper, the Attribates, the tinkling of the sheep-beli floats on the the Morini, and the Danmonii.

twilight breeze across thy ramparts, as the From Bindon's lofty city gates,-hung flocks are slowly driven by the shepherd with the blackened heads of enemies, down thy steep declivities to the fold in their gloried triumphs of victory,—the the valley. Thou art forgotten like the uuhappy Celts beheld the rude deets of cities of the desart, and thy pride and thy the powerful Morini covering the bay of strength shall return to thee no more for Weymouth ! They saw them land, and ever!

J. F. PENNIE. triumphantly force the strong military line of defence, which the original dwel.

SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. lers on the coast had raised to protect the country and their sacred circle, the

For the Olio. high place of sacrifice and blood, on the

As a Child! to his Parents his nature was true, summit of Pokeswell, and which is still

And delighting their feelings he playfully grew, to be seen in many places, running from

Little dreaming the star of perfection in art Weymouth to bindon Abbei. They saw Would ascend with his genius and brighten them cross the hills in their might and glory, and soon they heard of the fall of Though it playfully dawn«d and in lustre it Dunium their capital, and the destruction Lawrence! sleeps with bis Parents in perfect of all around them! This fortress of repose ! Bindon must have also soon after fallen a

A8 a Student !-imbued with a love of that prey to the conquerors as they advanced, truth for the pleasant and strong city of Ibur

Which corrects and inspirits the reason of

youth ; nium was taken before they drew their

His eye and his hand to one purpose confined, first defensive line of entrenchment or

Depicted the beauty and force of his mind: boundary to the north-east, which is cal His studies are brought to a natural close, led Combsditch,-in many places to this Lawrence! sleeps with past Students in per

fect repose ! day a noble and imposing barrier. Eggerdon, Bindon, Flowersbarrow,

As a Painter !-How like and unequall'd the

touch! and Moriconium, other strong hill-for Not too little of Art, nor of Nature too much ! tresses to the north, all shared the fate Mellow'd shadow and light on the face and the of the capital.

head, No doubt this Phænecian- British sta.

His Portraits exist, though the Painter is dead; tion, or city, of Bindon, like the other

This was a barbarous practice of the Bri. Celtic towns, became inhabited by its con tons and Phænicians, as we know by the bodies querors, the succeeding Morini, but whe of Saul and Jonathan.

his past;

rose,

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