sidered formidable opponents. The pavement, whose tiles were wrought in amulets, diamonds, and quatrefoils of red and gilding, displayed here and there a broad, brazen effigy, or a heraldic coat; and the aisles were enriched with bold ribs, streaked in vermilion and azure, corbels of the most grim and ridiculous faces, and flowered bosses overlaid with gold. The walls were clothed in rainbow tapestry of silk or worsted, in whose story the far-famed procession of the Countess of Mercia stood conspicuous. The high altar absolutely flamed with jewels, silver censers, and golden candlesticks, whose branches stretched over gold brocade and crimson velvet. But the splendour of the royal cortege seemed to eclipse even these evidences of monastic wealth. The Royal Sponsor, a lovely boy, about six years old, arrayed in jewels and cloth of gold, was placed under a splendid canopy near the font; and standing at his side, King Edward, then in the prime of life, and still handsome, (though somewhat bloated by excess,) together with his consort, on whose beautiful face anxiety had made more ravages than time, appeared in royal robes, studded with falcons and fetterlocks in ewels of dazzling lustre. The Duke of Clarence was also gorgeously attired, and Mark Babington at his side displayed his well made limbs and glowing countenance to full advantage; Richard of Gloucester was near, but dressed so at variance with the fashion of the day, that his habit denoted him scarcely less than his deformed figure and surly visage, that seemed at once to scorn the pageantry around him, and to be brooding plans for future indemnification. But to describe the fantastic costumes of the courtiers would demand a volume. The men had petticoats of scarlet velvet or brocade over their lower clothes, some of them shewing their doublets laced in front, like a woman's stays across a stomacher; and others with furred or silken gowns open in front to the girdle, and thence to the ground; all of them had innumerable slashes in their tunics and hose. The ladies had chiefly huge head-dresses resembling a heart, with the bottom cut off. Yet, combined as they were with the ample red robes of the municipal body, and the white, gray and black vestments of the Carmelites, the Franciscans and the Benedictines,-together with a long file of snowy vested Carthusians, that had just entered the choir (from the woody convent of the Char treuse, bordering on the south eastern walls of the city)-the effect was picturesque in the extreme. The Lady Joscelyne, as at the conclusion of the ceremonies she moved towards the great silver font, round which the royal party were assembled, perceived with all a courtier's horror that her reception was unfavourable.— The diamonds in her crown were as bright, but not so cold, as the glance the queen bestowed on her early and beloved friend. It might indeed be necessary etiquette in that public and sacred assembly, but certain it is that the royal hand was slightly extended to the kneeling dame, who at another time would have been raised to the royal bosom. As for Edward, departing from his usual courtesy to the sex, he was imperious, and even rude, in his salutation— "Ha! Mistress Joscelyne, and in good time!" 66 Nay, my liege!" interrupted a soft but somewhat sarcastic voice, 66 yon do the dame much dishonour,-she is a knight's lady, forsooth!" It was a beautiful woman who spoke; a flowing gown of crimson velvet left bare a neck and bosom of surpassing whiteness; her hair, of golden colour, was marvellously lovely, and the gold dust that powdered it did not prejudice its silken delicacy,-it was confined by an exquisite Venetian chain, from the centre of which a large ruby, set with orient pearls, in the shape of flowers, reposed on her broad and snowy forehead, while a carcanet of massy gold clasped her beautiful neck. The king's mood changed at once, or rather his spleen vented itself in another channel. 66 Nay," he exclaimed, "an thou presume to tutor us, we must look to our queen for sanction! How say you, Elizabeth,-think you the house of Babington deserve their rank; or, in spite of their misdemeanours, shall we concede it to thy favourite at the petition of our gentle Shore?". Whatever might be her inward feelings at this gross speech of the overbearing Edward, the queen suppressed them admirably, and with a glance of the sweetest complacency on her fair rival, she replied "If your grace is pleased to demand the counsel of my poor wit, I am bound to give it; but it will be to support the suggestion of Mistress Shore. I doubt not the house of Babington will retrieve its honour." Lady Babington's pride now came to her aid, and casting an angry glance on Jane Shore, she was about to give words to her indignation, but, after a moment's pause, she repressed them, and with flushed cheek and flashing eye swept haughtily to the further side of the queen, as if to shun the contamination of the royal leman's presence. Mark, stung to the quick by this brief colloquy, quitted the side of Clarence, and kneeling to his mother to offer his filial greeting, was received by the same coldness which herself had just experienced. "Mark Babington," she said, in raised tones, "must first inform his mother, why he prefers the favour of a court to the vindication of a father's honour, ere he can claim from her the reception of a son." Elizabeth, whose kind heart began to sympathize with her favourite's wounded feelings, now taking her kindly by the arm, led her apart, and seemed anxiously soothing her irritation. A few proud tears rolled down the lady's cheek as with gentle tones her royal mistress, appointed a private interview with her at Cheylesmore; while Edward impatiently exclaimed The subject of this day's deliberations, both in the Benedictine Chapter, and the queen's cabinet, will be shewn in the way most suited to the narrow limits of our story, by conducting our reader to a vast and gloomy gate-tower in the city walls, facing the north-east, where Mark Babington, after pleading urgent business to his mother, passed hastily forth into the meadows about an hour before sunset. He paused at the distance of an arrow's flight from the walls. A large fountain, whose basin of red stone was protected by a round of six pillars, supporting an open battlement, from the centre of which arose a short florid spire, appeared to be some trysting place to which the youth had repaired. Rich yellow tufts of jilliflower waved in the crevices of the carve-work, and a matting of small ivyleaves wreathed here and there the swarthy pillars. Bursting from this well, a brighter rivulet expanded into an ample pool, surrounded by willows and alders of great girth, and having in its centre an island, where the stately swan might be seen gleaming among the tall flags and bulrushes. As Mark waited by the graceful columns of the Swan's Well, (for so the fountain was called), the northern side of the city displayed itself to his view, in all the solemnly picturesque effect of the westering sunlight. The noble walls, stretching far away to the south-east, with their multiform gates and turrets, soared in profound gloom. Ascending from within this circle, huge tiers of swarthy buildings overhung the narrow streets, in all the fantastic but gorgeous architecture of the period. Tall groves waved over them; and at the summit of the hill whose sides were thus brocaded, the grand ecclesiastical buildings stood up into the blue sky,-the whole being stretched in broad masses of sunlight and shade, while the weathercocks flashing in the evening air from housetop and steeple, hovered like lightnings above the chequered piles. The great clock of the cathedral had just struck five, when a solitary figure was seen advancing to the Swan's Well from the The queen ascended her magnificent Bastille-gate, a portal on the other side litter at the west gateway, and as if to the river, and after crossing the bridge, obliterate every trace of her late morti- the Duke of Clarence, closely muffled, fication, commanded Lady Babington to approached the spot where Mark was give up her horse to her attendants, and apparently expecting him. place herself at her side; and thus the regal cavalcade proceeded to Cheylesmore, Mark Babington riding close by the litter, and occasionally mingling in the deep conversation that ensued between his mother and the queen. "Cease we this idle jarring-graver matters than a woman's tongue can weigh demand our immediate notice.My Lord Prior, hath your chapter been convened?"-The mitred ecclesiastic bowed assent." Move we then, with your lordship's pleasure, to the Chapter-house forthwith; where we will ourselves set forth much solemn and perilous matter touching not only the safety of our throne, but-(here Edward crossed himself devoutly) also the interests of Holy Church, which we have ever religiously consulted." This was the signal for the general dispersion of the gay crowds in the Cathedral, who streamed through the great gates, and over the sunny quadrangles of the Priory; while the king, attended by his brothers, was ushered by the Lord Prior into the Chapterhouse, and followed by those churchmen whose rank entitled them to a share in the deliberations. After a hurried salutation, Mark eagerly demanded what tidings had summoned him to this secret interview? "Cold tidings, Mark, for all freehearted Englishmen! Oxford has been compelled to surrender Saint Michael's Mount, and is now imprisoned in the castle of Hammes !" "Cold call ye them?-they are such as should kindle a fire in our hearts to rescue or avenge him." "Alas! this is not all: my ruthless brother (who it seems had received the intelligence ere he went to the Minster this morning) hath issued orders for the apprehension of the Archbishop, to whom he had granted a full pardon: his effects and revenues are to be seized and himself sent prisoner to Guines!" Mark's countenance fell. "My father, then," he asked in faltering tones (6 my father is in peril ?" "A close prisoner in his house at Curborough," replied the Duke; "but," and he paused-" the worst remains behind. The noble-hearted, the sagacious Father Paul has been this day formally accused by Edward in full chapter, of sorcery, heresy and hightreason." "Can heaven suffer such injustice?" "Patience! and you shall learn all. The recreant Vaucler, who hath more fair faces than the rainbow hath colours, and who shifts his skin oftener than his brother the snake, hath sent missives, accusing your kinsman of the darkest necromancy, instancing especially his practices on last Saint Mark's eve, in which he states him to have compromised the honour of two noble dames." "By heavens! the very tale my mother hath been pouring into the queen's ear, and was angry, forsooth, that I laughed at it!" "Well, the Lord Prior received the accusation with all the eagerness that Edward could have wished, and in the chapter a perfect hubbub arose. One ecclesiastic of rank stood up, and accused the Black Priest of perverting his parishioners to Lollardism, offering to bring proofs from those who heard him preach. Another stated that he had been known to use magical philtres and to employ forbidden charms in sundry cures of the sick while a third (contradictorily enough) urged his inordinate love of hawks and hounds, to the neglect of all his other duties. To be brief, they all made the vaulted roof so ring with their clamours against one whom they had long hated, that the king had some difficulty in proceeding to lay before them the further allegations of Vaucler, in which it was positively stated that Father Paul was at that very time maintaining a correspondence with Richmond at the court of Brittany!" "The ruin, then, of our house is sealed," exclaimed Mark wildly. "Is my mother mad, that she cannot see no. my uncle's disgrace, which she hath been urging with the queen, must involve us all?" "The prospect is threatening," resumed Prince George; " but we may yet dispel the clouds." Here a brief silence ensued, when Mark abruptly asked the duke— "Glanced not the king at your grace during all this?" "In faith did he!-and hinted so pathetically certain unhappy dissensions in the court, which would compel him to commence his acts of justice in his own family, that, by Saint George! I deemed my good brother was about to make the Dukedom of Clarence vacant." "And nought more explicit ?" "Oh, yes! he appointed to Richard and myself this day week, for a solemn hearing in St. Mary's Hall, in which we are to plead our claims, and his highness (save the mark!) to adjust them finally." "But," said Babington, in a low tone, "spake he nothing of our affair ?-said he nothing of-of the Princess Anne ?” "Not a syllable! he did not even breathe her name, though all knew that she was the apple of discord." "I might have guessed it," said Mark, "but it makes my mention of her indispensable to the sacred friendship I owe your grace. Know, then, that the place of Lady Anne's retreat, if not known, is at least vehemently suspected-she is no longer safe, and, may I add without impugning a brother's love for a brother-the Duke of Clarence is in danger." Clarence started in his turn at this unexpected information, and evinced the utmost anxiety as young Babington proceeded. "My poor mother's surprise and indignation may be faintly imagined, when, in my presence, Queen Elizabeth informed her that the Lady Anne Plantagenet was undoubtedly concealed somewhere in Staffordshire, under the disguise of a menial, and that sure information had led the king to suspect she had even been at Curborough itself.” "Oh, that devil Vaucleur!" ejaculated the young duke. "And that she was now at Whichnover. The extremely delicate nature of the affair will prevent any sudden or violent measures; but there is little doubt that ere long all our efforts on behalf of this persecuted princess will be baffled." "And let them," Clarence burst forth, "let them be thrice baffled, so we have but our revenge on that Judas-Vaucler! Listen, Babington: thy noble heart hath involved thee, I fear, too deeply in my views, and at this hour of mutual peril, the thoughts of thy family's ruin galls me most shrewdly. Richard woos this unhappy lady-Edward sanctions his suit; if she weds him, thou knowest Gloucester well enough to foresee what will be her fate! I, too, shall lose, or rather the duchess, her sister, will lose many a fair acre. But, trust me, if I can restore thy father, and crush that devilish Vaucler, I will gladly make the sacrifice. Much may be done at this audience in Saint Mary's Hall." Mark warmly expressed his gratitude, but urged his royal friend not to encounter any risque to himself. "Fear not for me," said the young prince, whose mind, ill-regulated as it was, yet contained sparks of noble feeling; consult rather your own safety and the honour of your house, you will thereby most effectually further my designs. I have a steed in readiness. Hasten home this very night. Prepare the priest for what is to happen, and bid him obey the apparitor, who will quickly be despatched to Chadstow. Tarry till you hear from me; and if there be a grain of wit in George's brain, thy family shall be scatheless. Only bear in mind-vengeance on Vaucler!" Here the duke shouted, "Halbert, ho!" when a horseman, in the royal livery, leading a powerful steed, fully caparisoned, approached the Swan's Well; and after a hasty adieu, young Babington mounted the led horse, while the servant resigning his to the duke, followed him on foot in the direction of the Bastille-gate. Avoiding the city, and choosing the by-roads to the woody village of Allestry, Mark swiftly pursued his journey, and had reached the hostel of Basset's Pole, dividing the two counties, ere he drew the reins of his gallant horse. (To be continued.) THE SOURCE OF THE WEALTH OF HOLLAND. The discovery of the mode of curing and barreling herring, by an obscure individual of the name of Beukels, or Beukelzon, towards the middle of the fourteenth century, contributed more, perhaps, than any thing else to increase the maritime power and wealth of Holland. At a period when the prohibition of eating butcher-meat during two days every week, and forty days before Easter, was universal, a supply of some sort of subsidary food was urgently required; so that the discovery of Beukels became of the greatest consequence, not to his countrymen only, but to the whole Christian world. It should be mentioned, to the honour of the Emperor Charles V., that being in 1550 at Biervleit, where Beukels was buried, he visited his grave, and ordered a magnificent monument to be erected, to record the memory of a man who had rendered so signal a service to his country. For a long period, the Hollanders enjoyed nearly a complete monopoly of the herring fishery. The famous John de Witt estimated that in his time every fifth individual derived his subsistence from this source. We learn from him, and others, that when the herring fishery was in its zenith, the Dutch fishers employed 3,000 fishing vessels in the bays and inlets of their own coasts; that they employed about 800 vessels, of from 60 to 150 tons burden, in the cod and long fishery, in the seas round the Orkney and Shetland Islands; and that, in addition to these, they had about 1,600 vessels employed in the herring fishery on our coasts, from Buchanness to the mouth of the Thames. It was estimated that, taking into account the vessels carrying salt to those actually engaged in the fishery, and those employed to convey the cured herrings to their destination, the herring fishery gave employment to about 6,400 vessels, and 112,000 seamen; and that the whole number of persons dependent upon it for support, including those employed in building and rigging ships, and in fitting them out with nets, casks, salt, &c. amounted to 450,000! De Witt says, that in his time Holland could boast of 10,000 sail of shipping, and 168,000 seamen, although,' he adds, 'the country itself affords them neither materials, nor victual, nor merchandize.' The Hollanders, indeed, made no scruple of avowing that the wealth, strength, and prosperity of the United Provinces, were chiefly derived from the herring fishery; their sense of the importance of which was strongly remarked by an observation in common use amongst them, that the foundation of Amsterdam was laid on herring bones.' Edin. Rev. Fllustrations of History. SPLENDOUR OF THOMAS A BECKETT'S The archbishop's shrine, Stow in forms us, was about a man's height all of stone, then upwards of plain timber, within which was a chest of iron, containing the saint's bones, skull and all, with the wound of his death, and the piece cut out of his skull laid in the same wound. The timber-work of the shrine on the outside was covered with plates of gold, damasked and embossed with wires of the same precious metal, garnished with broaches, images, chains, precious stones, and great orient pearls; spoils of which shrine (in gold and jewels of inestimable value), filled two great chests, one of which six or eight strong men could do no more than convey out of the church; these were all taken to the king's use, and the bones of St. Thomas (by order of the Lord Cromwell,) were then and there burned to ashes; which was in September, in the year 1538, regno Henry VIII.” Erasmus informs us," when this glorious show was offered to view, the prior took a white wand, and touched every jewel, repeating its quality, the French name, the value, and the donor of it, for the principal part of the treasures were presented by monarchs, or persons of distinguished rank or fortune." The visitors to the shrine were both numerous and noble. No less than an hundred thousand devotees are recorded to have visited it in one year. Philip, Earl of Flanders, came over here in 1177, on a pilgrimage to the reliques of the saint, and was met by Henry II., with whom he held a conference. In the June of the following year, the king, on his return from Normandy, paid another visit to the sepulchre; and, in the next month, William, Archbishop of Rheims, came from France with a large retinue, to pay his vows to St. Thomas at Canterbury, where the king met and received him honourably. In the year 1179, Lewis VII., King of France, landed at Dover, where Henry expected his arrival, and on the 23rd of August, the two monarchs arrived at Canterbury, attended by a numerous train of the nobility of both nations: they were received by the archbishop and his comprovincials, the prior, and the whole convent, with great honour. The French sovereign, on this occasion, presented a rich cup of gold, and the precious stone called the “regal of France," which Henry VIII. afterwards had set, and wore as a thumb ring. He also granted the value of a hundred tuns of wine to the monks, to be paid annually at Paris, He kept watch a whole night at the tomb, and in the morning requested to be admitted of the fraternity, which he was permitted to do, attended by the English king. So great, indeed, was the veneration in which this prelate was held, that he superseded even our Saviour; for, in one year, the offering to Christ's altar was £0. Os. Od.,-to that of his holy mother, £4. 1s. 8d.,-to that of the great Beckett, £954. 6s. 3d. It was also by the merit of his, and not our Saviour's blood, we were taught to expect salvation : Tu, per Thomæ sanguinem, The Kate Book. CUCKOO. NYRON. When King George III. dined with the Lord Mayor (Sir Samuel Fludyer,) in 1761, the four services prepared for his majesty's table alone consisted of no less than two hundred and sixty. eight dishes, the expense of which was £374. 1s. 0.:-the most expensive item in the bill of fare being, ten dishes of notts, £30. Os. Od.; and the cheapest, a dish of truffles in oil, 10s. 6d. The entire cost of this sumptuous feast given to royalty, which consisted of four hundred and fourteen dishes, besides the dessert, was £6,898 5s. 4d. A SINGULAR MODE OF DISCOVERING IRISHMEN. Some years since, a number of facetious gentlemen, emigrated from the province of Ulster to Philadelphia. On their arrival they perambulated the streets, admiring the regularity of the buildings, but astonished they had not met a single Irishman during the whole of their perigrinations. In the evening, when over a social bottle, they had naturally expressed to each other their surprise and disappointment on the occasion, when one of the party, a man |