tioned; some of the highest arches were seen over and some through the trees scattered along a lane which led down to the ruin, and the strange fantastic shapes of almost all those old ashes accorded wonderfully well with the building they at once shaded and ornamented. The abbey itself, from my door, was almost on a level with the cottage; but on coming to the end of the lane it was discovered to be situated on a high perpendicular bank, at the foot of which ran the clear waters of the Cluden, when they hasten to join the sweeping Nith, 'Whose distant roaring swells and fa's.' thing? For me, I am the puirest of a' puir bodies, and can hardly contrive to keep myself alive in a' the wee bit o' ways I hae tell't ye.' After some more conversation, during which I was more and more pleased with the old woman's sensible conversation, and the naïveté of her remarks, she rose to go away, when I asked her name. Her countenance suddenly clouded, and she said gravely, rather colouring,My name is Helen Walker; but your husband kens weel about me.' "In the evening I related how much I had been pleased, and inquired what was extraordinary in the history of the poor woman. Mr. -said, 'There were perhaps few more remarkable people than Helen Walker;' and he gave the history which has already been related here." I The writer continues. "I was so strongly interested by this narrative, that I determined immediately to prosecute my acquaintance with Helen Walker; but, as was to leave the country next day, I was obliged to defer it until my return in spring, when the first walk took was to Helen Walker's cottage. She had died a short time before. My regret was extreme, and I endeavoured to obtain some account of Helen from an old woman who inhabited the other end of her cottage. I inquired if Helen ever spoke of her past history, her journey to London, &c. Na,' the old woman said, As my kitchen and parlour were not very far distant, "I said I could venture to guess from her face she had never married. She laughed heartily at this, and said: 'Imaun hae the queerest face that ever was seen, that ye could guess that. Now do tell me, madam, how ye came to think sae?' I told her it was from her cheerful, disengaged countenance. She said: Mem, have ye na far mair reason to be happy than me, wi' a gude husband, and a fine family o' bairns, and plenty o' every Helen was a wiley body, and whene'er any o' the neebors asked anything about it, she aye turned the conversation.' In short, every answer I received only tended to increase my regret, and raise my opinion of Helen Walker, who could unite so much prudence with so much heroic virtue." This account was enclosed in the following letter to the author of Waverley, without date or signature: "Sir,-The occurrence just related happened to me twenty-six years ago. Helen Walker lies buried in the churchyard of Irongray, about six miles from Dumfries. I once purposed that a small monument should have been erected to commemorate so remarkable a character; but I now prefer leaving it to you to perpetuate her | memory in a more durable manner." Mrs. Goldie endeavoured to collect further particulars of Helen Walker, particularly concerning her journey to London; but this she found impossible, as the natural dignity of her character, and a high sense of family respectability, had made her so indissolubly connect her sister's disgrace with her own exertions, that none of her neighbours durst ever question her upon the subject. One old woman, a distant relation of Helen's, and who was living in 1820, says she worked in harvest with her, but that she never ventured to ask her about her reward of goodness:-"That a character so distinguished for her undaunted love of virtue lived and died in poverty, if not want, serves only to show us how insignificant in the sight of heaven are our principal objects of ambition upon earth." A CHRISTMAS PARTY IN THE COUNTRY. Rosaline had a right to love her herbal, and Cyril sister's trial, or her journey to London. "Helen," she said, "was a lofty body, and used a high style o' language." The same old woman says, "that every year Helen received a cheese from her sister, who lived at No, no," said Mrs. Martha Loraine, "Sappho was Whitehaven, and that she always sent a liberal portion a heathen, and, thank God, Rose is a Christian. I am of it to herself or to her father's family." The old per- most pleased with the last verse, for I do indeed often son here spoken of must have been a mere child to our rejoice at the vicinity of that church, and think it heroine, who died in the year 1791, at the age of eighty-looks down blessings on our ancient hall.' I love to one or eighty-two; and this difference of age may well account for any reserve in speaking on such a subject, making it appear natural and proper, and not the result of any undue "loftiness" of character. All recollections of her are connected with her constant and devout reading of the Bible. A small table, with a large open Bible, invariably occupied one corner of her room; and she was constantly observed stealing a glance, reading a text or a chapter, as her avocations permitted her time; and it was her habit, when it thundered, to take her work and her Bible to the front of the cottage, alleging that the Almighty could smite in the city as well as the field. An extract from a recent letter says, on the subject of our heroine" I think I neglected to specify to you that Helen Walker lived in one of those cottages at the Chedar Mills which you and your sisters so much admired; and the Mr. Walker who, as he said himself, laid her head in the grave,' lived in that larger two-storied house standing high on the opposite bank. He is since dead, or I might have got the particulars from him that we wanted: he was a respectable farmer." The memorial which Mrs. Goldie wished to be raised over her grave has since been erected at the expense of Sir Walter Scott. The inscription is as follows: This stone was erected who died in the year of God MDCCXCI. the virtues with which fiction has invested refusing the slightest departure even to save the life of her sister, in rescuing her from the severity of the law, Jeanie Deans is recompensed by her biographer for the trials through which he leads her, with a full measure of earthly comfort; for few novelists dare venture to make virtue its own reward; yet the following reflection shows him to have felt how little the ordinary course of Providence is in accordance with man's natural wishes, and his expectations of a splendid temporal remember the time when I was led there by my own dear mother, the oldest of a family which soon became so numerous, and has now dwindled down to your father and myself. I can remember your mother, Justine, when first allowed the privilege of attending the ser vice, clinging to my arm, and restraining her buoyant step to suitable serenity, her sweet blue eyes wandering to the curious monuments of our ancestors, until recalled to her book by my father's whisper, 'This is none other than the house of God, this is the gate of heaven!' Yes, and I remember her standing before the venerable vicar to be examined amongst the candidates for confirmation, and all the holy aspirings she then poured into my anxious ear. I can remember her again, Justine, little older than you are--at this moment you remind me of her, yet those black eyes belong to l'Estrange-and your father stood beside her under that roof, and she went from it his wife, never to return again. She took a blessing with her, and from a foreign land wrote me that she was often with me in spirit, once more worshipping in our own time-honoured church. My dear, dear Justine, may the blessing which was your mother's rest upon you, and may you seek it where she sought it-in that church!" The solemnity of aunt Martha's manner was felt by all the party, but by none more than by Frederic and Justine, who had been taught to revere the memory of the mother they had lost so early. The entrance of Mr. Loraine and Mr. Barlow broke the silence, and Lucy soon asked for the verses promised by her mother. Are they quite new, mamma?" "Quite new, I only received them this morning." "This morning! By the post?" Yes, by the post. Agnes was wondering about my three letters, and I expected her to inquire whom they were from; but Edmund's epistle put all other things out of her head, so I kept my own secret; and now hear what our Laureat has sent us." "James Hamilton, mamma! can he not come? What keeps him away? Rose! Rose ! did not mamma tell you James Hamilton had sent some verses for us!" exclaimed three or four voices at once. "Gently, gently, my good people. James is kept away by his brother's illness, and will be here as soon as he can comfortably leave him. He says he has sent us a few floral charades, that we may not quite forget him during his absence, and begs we will only have one each evening, and then, perhaps, they will last until he makes his appearance." "Oh, mamma, how many are there?-Aunt Martha, do not you know? Mrs. Barlow, has not mamma told you?" Both ladies shook their heads, and acknowledged their ignorance on the subject; and at length Mrs. Loraine read the following charade, and the remainder of the evening was spent in guessing its meaning, and | rambling after fine_young men. criticising its structure. Silently, gently, and lightly descending And look where my second is tremblingly stealing It comes from the heart's tender fountain of feeling, Than its types the chaste pearls in her hair. And soon, when my first from the earth is retreating, To that beauty shall hope, her sweet whisper repeating, The snow, which had fallen in great quantity during the night, still continued to descend, so that the whole landscape around Kirkfield was enveloped in its white mantle, the only relief to the eye being from the numerous hollies and other evergreens, on which it had indeed lodged in ponderous masses, but which still showed here and there the bright green leaves and red berries. The windows of the saloon, opening to the ground, were blocked up high as the first pane, and the innumerable tribe of robins, chaffinches, sparrows, &c., which Agnes Loraine and her little friend Laura Barlow delighted to feed, could not receive the usual bounty until a space was cleared away for their accommodation. The cold wind and falling snow swept in at the opened window, which Mrs. Loraine and Mrs. Barlow hastily begged might be closed; and the girls stood watching their feathered friends for some minutes, amused by the airs of a robin who seemed to consider himself lord of the feast, driving away the other birds when they interfered with his repast, shaking the snow off his wings, pecking at the window, and looking up with his merry eye as if conscious that he was an established favourite. "Cousin Frederic," said the saucy Agnes, "have you any birds except sparrows in London? I always fancy not. Do come and look at our country sparrows. They are quite a different colour from yours, are they not? I suspect yours are almost black, and these are beautifully dressed in various shades of brown. I know you have sparrows in London, because I remember reading in the Peacock at Home,' that "A London bred sparrow, a pert forward chit, Danced a reel with Miss Wagtail, and little Tom Tit." "Upon my word, Miss Agnes, pert forward chits are not confined to London," said her cousin, running his hand through her clustering curls, and then spinning the laughing girl round so suddenly that the whole flock of feathered pensioners took flight. They, however, soon ventured to return, and Justine l'Estrange was tempted to look at them, and compelled to declare she was unacquainted with several of the visitors. "Agnes is a saucy girl, Justine, and not at all like her brother Charles," said Charles himself; "but, if it be a fair question, I should like to ask how many British birds you do know? Come now, a sparrow we will presume upon your knowing-what next?" "I know a swallow, a bulfinch, a canary" "Oh, but a canary is not a British bird." "Well, I know a swallow, and a bulfinch.-Lady Dorrington has a most beautiful bulfinch, which whistles all Strauss's waltzes; and is such a favourite with her, because her son, who had been absent many years, an attaché to the Embassy, a fine young man, brought it her from Vienna." "Then that bulfinch, certainly, was not a British bird, Mademoiselle Justine. I shall not let you go I am a fine young How man myself, and, as I am bringing up to the bar, I shall make you undergo a rigid cross-examination. many British birds do you know? A turkey?-with oyster sauce. A goose-with sage and onions. A partridge?-with crumbs and bread sauce. A pheasant? -ditto. A woodcock?-with a toast; and a snipe? because I shot one yesterday." After a little more joking Justine was obliged to confess her ignorance of British birds, and Agnes and Laura were delighted to point out to her the different competitors for their crumbs; particularly the little blue-bird, or Nun, which soon joined the circle. "I think your cousin should not begin her ornithological studies before she has made a little more progress in botany," said Mrs. Barlow, "or you will frighten her back to town as soon as the snow is cleared away." "My dear madam! you must not think me so indolent as to take fright at the bare idea of information, though this is truly very different to any I have received before, because it comes in a practical and amusing shape, instead of being a mere vocabulary of names, which is all I seemed to gain from books in the town." "You need not be afraid, Justine," said Mrs. Loraine, for we are not very learned here; though Agnes talks of botanizing, we are not botanists, but lovers of wild flowers." "But, my dear mamma, my darling Meadow Queen,' is a real botanical book, and Lindley's 'Ladies' Botany,' and Mrs. Mariat's Vegetable Physiology,' are very favourite books with my sisters," cried Agnes. "So they are, my love, and Justine shall read them when she chooses. Still, Justine, the knowledge we can impart is chiefly the result of observation on the things around us, things to which you have never been accustomed; but, as we hope your residence here will not be of very short duration, we shall be greatly pleased if you can feel an interest in them; and my girls must look to you for much information which is very desirable for them, and which they have had no opportunity of acquiring here." My dear Justine," said Sophia, "I have not forgotten that you promised to teach me that beautiful new kind of embroidery which is in your work-basket. I fear I have not all the proper materials, but, if I can find any which will put me in the way of acquiring the stitch, I should be glad to learn it this morning; and when we do go to R, I can then get a proper supply." "What are we poor fellows to do this morning?' asked Charles. "Cyril has quietly stolen away to his Hisdostanee in the library, where I should fancy you might also find something to study," said his mother. 66 But what is to become of this idle fellow Fred?" "Oh! I am going to copy out this little German song for Lucy." "Then, as Alleyn is with his father, Neville must be reader to our circle to-day. What book shall we have? There is the last new parcel from the book-club on that table: so perhaps Mrs. Barlow or aunt Martha will make the selection." Aunt Martha soon fixed upon a work of general interest, and the morning passed rapidly in spite of the increasing storm without. Long after the usual hour no post had appeared, and it was surmised that the cross-roads must be so completely blocked up that none could be expected. Agnes petitioned that James Hamilton's budget might be opened, and an additional charade allowed them, to make up for the loss of the letters and newspapers. 'They are all about flowers," said her mother, "and I fear your cousins will not be able to guess them until they have increased their acquaintance with the Flora Kirkfieldensis, yet I really think I will indulge you with one, which speaks so much of the delights of summer weather, that it will perhaps make us forget the cold around us." 1 "Mamma! Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand Or wallow naked in December's snow "Fye, fye, Rosaline! surely you will not vote against the charade. I shall make you read it for doing so."And Rosaline read, Oh, who would linger when gay summer calls When waves upon the wind the heather bell? Doth of the songsters' callow younglings tell? Then bending o'er the streamlet's leaf-fringed side And blush to mark its lawless disarray With each bright tress, whilst she, with pretty art, To smooth her truant curls, and still her beating heart. Sure 'tis a pleasant picture thus to see That fair young creature cast her eyes around, Scanning the summer treasures which abound POPULAR YEAR-BOOK. ST. NICHOLAS, who is commemorated on this day by the Latin and English Churches, was born at Patura, a city of Lycia, of reputable parents, who early initiated him into the doctrines of Christianity, which he practised in so exemplary a manner as to receive the patronage of Constantine the Great, through whom he became Bishop of Myra. He was present in the Council of Nice, where, it is said, he gave Arius a box on the ear. According to legendary story, he was disposed so early in life to obey the directions of the Church, that, when an infant at the breast, he fasted on Wednesday and Friday, sucking but once on each of those days, and that towards night. This circumstance, and a miracle which we shall immediately relate, caused him to be regarded as the peculiar pattern of the "rising generation" under the endearing title of "Child Bishop." The miracle is as follows. An "Asiatic gentleman" sent his two sons to Athens for education, and ordered them to call on St. Nicholas for his benediction. On arriving at Myra with their baggage, they took up their lodging at an inn, intending, as it was late in the day, to defer their visits till the morrow; but, in the mean time, the landlord, to secure their effects to himself, wickedly murdered the youths in their sleep, cut them up, salted them, and purposed to sell them for pickled pork. St. Nicholas was favoured with a sight of these proceedings in a vision, and in the morning went to the inn, and reproached the host for his horrid villany. The man, perceiving that he was discovered, owned his crime, and entreated the Saint to intercede for his pardon. The Bishop, being moved by his confession and contrition, besought forgiveness for him and supplicated restoration of life to the children: whereupon the mangled and detached pieces reunited, and the reanimated youths threw themselves at the feet of St. Nicholas, who raised them up, exhorted them to return thanks to GoD alone, gave them good advice for the future, and sent them with great joy to prosecute their studies at Athens. This tradition concerning St. Nicholas, were there no other, sufficiently accounts for the selection of his festival for the commencement of the puerile solemnities about to be described. Anciently, on this day, the choir boys in cathedral churches chose one of their number to maintain the state and authority of a bishop, for which purpose he was habited in episcopal robes, wore a mitre on his head, and bore a pastoral staff in his hand; his fellows for the time being assuming the character and dress of priests, yielding him canonical obedience, taking pos session of the church, and performing all the ceremo nies and offices which might have been celebrated by real ecclesiastics. Though the election of the child bishop was on the 6th of December, yet his office and authority lasted till the 28th. On the Eve of the Holy Innocents this personage, and his youthful clergy in their copes, and with burning tapers in their hands, went in procession chanting versicles, made some pray. ers before the altar, and sang Complin. By the statute of Sarum no one was to interrupt or press upon the children during their procession or service in the cathedral, upon pain of anathema. It appears that the boy bishop, at Salisbury, held a kind of visitation, and maintained a corresponding state and prerogative; and he is supposed to have had the power to dispose of prebends that fell vacant during his episcopacy. If he died within the month he was buried like other bishops, in his episcopal ornaments; his obsequies were solemnized with great pomp, and a monument with his effigy1 was erected to his memory. The juvenile observances, above described, existed not only in collegiate churches, but in almost every parish in England; and, as Walton affirms, even in common grammar-schools. They were suppressed in 1542 by a proclamation of Henry VIII.; but were revived under Queen Mary, and seem to have been exhibited in country villages till the latter end of the reign of her successor. "We may observe," remarks Strutt, "that most of the churches in which these mock ceremonies were performed, had dresses and ornaments proper for the occasion, and suited to the size of the wearers, but in every other respect resembling those appropriated to the real dignitaries of the church." Brand is of opinion that the montem at Eton is only a corruption of the ceremony of the boy bishop and his companions, who, upon being prevented from mimicking any longer their ecclesiastical superiors, "gave a new face" to their festi vity, and began their present play at soldiers and electing a captain. Within the memory of persons alive, when the above antiquary wrote, the montem was kept in the winter time a little before Christmas: a passage was cut through the snow from Eton to Salt-hill, upon which, after the procession had arrived there, the chaplain and his clerk (Etonians thus disguised) used to read prayers; and then, at the conclusion, the chaplain kicked the clerk down the hill. The present MONTEM is generally celebrated on Whit-Tuesday, and honoured (1) Such an one is preserved in Salisbury Cathedral. by the presence of royalty. It is triennial, and consists | 46 lished in 1667. He died in 1674, and was interred near his father in the chancel of St. Giles's, Cripplegate. December 13.-St. Lucy's name occurs in the Kalendar of the Church of England on this day. She was a young lady of Syracuse, who preferring a religious single life to marriage, gave away all her wealth to the poor. Having been accused by the nobleman who sought her hand, to the Pagan Proconsul Paschasius, for professing Christianity, she obtained the crown of martyrdom, A. D. 304. Her remains long reposed at Syracuse. They are now preserved in the Church of St. Vincent, at Metz. LOUISE, OR THE FAIRY WELL. here AFTER pausing for a moment to admire the delicate tracery and the foliage of the sculptor, and dwelling for some moments on the maxims over her head, she tripped forth lightly into a conservatory filled with rare plants and curious shrubs, the splash of water falling continually into hollowed basins of pure white marble filled her with delight; several large bees, such as she had previously seen, were flitting about, and many birds of bright plumage had built their nests in the taller shrubs. On her approach, the birds nestled down in their nests, and covered their little heads with their wings; and the bees alighted on the different flowers, and found a shelter in their wide spreading cups. "Oh, how charming!" said Louise, "I will catch one of these little birds, to see the bright colours of his plumage." She raised herself up to the lowest shrub, and as soon as she put her hand into the nest, the little terrified creature uttered a shrill cry, which was On the morning of Montem day they frequently rise taken up by all the others, so that the conservatory as early as six o'clock, and forthwith scour the country, resounded with their piteous notes. Fear for the soliciting or demanding money from every one whom moment proved superior to her other feelings, and they encounter. Having collected the "salt" from the as soon as she felt more confident, she stretched company, the salt-bearers, &c. levy a contribution from the boys of at least one shilling each, which, in the out her hand a second time, but the nest was gone! whole school, amounts to upwards of thirty pounds. Louise, in astonishment, ran from shrub to shrub, When the procession arrives at Salt-hill, the college flag, peering cautiously into the branches, but the birds inscribed with the motto Pro More et Monte, is waved had all flown, and she could not even discover their three times by the ensign, who stands on the summit nests. This was a great source of wonder, as she of the mound. The fifth form then dine by themselves, could not imagine how they had made their escape, and the lower boys, by themselves: and the procession as the windows that reached from the ribbed ceiling returns to Eton about five. The day after the Montem to the marble floor were all closed, and she could the captain gives an elegant dejeuner a la fourchette, to see no other means of escape. The bees too had the first two hundred boys, in the College Hall. flown away, and she was alone. This circumstance December 9.-The illustrious poet JOHN MILTON was born on this day, 1608, in Bread-street, London. He gave her no uneasiness, on the contrary, the hours received the rudiments of a learned education at St. glided pleasantly away, as she found new attraction Paul's School, and afterwards studied at Christ's College, in every succeeding flower. Here was the rose in Cambridge, where he was admitted, Feb. 12, 1624. Dr. all its variety of tint, here was the graceful lily, the Johnson is "ashamed to relate what he fears is true, striped carnation, the star-like primrose, and the that Milton was one of the last students in either delicate snow-drop. Here orange and lemon trees University that suffered the public indignity of corporal bloomed, amid myrtles and acacias; here the most correction." He was well skilled in Latin, and wrote choice treasures of the Eastern gardens grew in all verses in that language with classical elegance. He be- their luxuriance. When she had feasted herself gan his travels on the death of his mother in 1637, and sufficiently on the sweets around her, she turned passed fifteen months in visiting Paris, Florence, Rome, her eyes to the fountains, in whose waters swarmed Lucca, Venice, and Genoa. On his return home he took myriads of the most tiny fish, frolicking about in a house in Aldersgate-street, London, for the reception the clear glassy element. Soon, however, by deof scholars. In 1641 he began to engage in the controversies of the times, and wrote several polemical treatises.grees, a feeling of languor crept over her frame, and Two years later, he married his first wife, the daughter of a country gentleman in Oxfordshire, whom he soon repudiated. After the martyrdom of King Charles I, he was appointed Latin Secretary to Oliver Cromwell. In 1654, or perhaps earlier, he became totally blind, a misfortune which his enemies considered as a judgment from heaven. At the Restoration he retired into obscurity, and by the exertion of his friends was included in the general amnesty. His immortal poem, entitled PARADISE LOST, the copyright of which he sold for only 15l., was pub died away, and she longed to see and hold intershe lost her former vivacity; the charm of the scene course with the bright spirits who dwelt in the fairy palace. "What are all the charms "cried she, "of so beautiful a spot to me, if there be none else to enjoy it? what concert so sweet as that of human voices? Oh, for my little companions in the forest glade!" (1) Concluded from page 95. |