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so small a compass. Ere satiety arrived the companions separated. My candle was ready; I shook hands with my friends; and, after penning you this outline, retired with benevolent impressions and aspirations in behalf of a cheerful country life, arising from contented habits and industrious

courses.

The two following stanzas were audible for a long time in the neighbouring ruralries:

Let the scythe and sickle lie
Undisturb'd for many a day;
Labour stoops without a sigh,
And grisly care is gay:
Bless the harrow and the plough!
Bless the glorious Barley-mow I

Now the miller's hoppers play;
Now the maltster's kiln is dry;
Empty casks prepare the way,

And mirth is in the eye:

Praise the sun and trim the bough,

Hail the golden Barley-mow !

I am, my dear sir,

Yours very truly,

Sir,-The custom of "hanging the shuttle " arose out of the introduction of a "spring loom," which an eminent clothier at Langley ventured, in 1794, to have erected in one of his cottages, built for the use of his men.

One person performing nearly as much work in this loom as two persons, the weavers in the neighbourhood met at the "Plough," to consider the best means of opposing the success of the one-shuttle stranger.

declarative that spring-looms would prove After sundry resolutions were passed, hurtful to weavers of the old school, they suspended a shuttle to a bacon rack by a skein of tangled yarn over the table round which they sat. Meeting every Saturdaynight at this inn, they pledged their affiance to the "shuttle," and continued the custom till their meetings were fruitless. over them The "hanging the shuttle" signified that no honest weaver should work

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NEWSPAPER ORTHOGRAPHY, 1682.

From the "True Protestant Mercury,” No. 162.

ADVERTISEMENT.

Gown of a sable and Gold Coulor, lined with Black, betwixt Arniseed Clere LOST, a Flowered silk Manto (Mantua) (St. Agnes le Clair) and the White Houses at Hogsden (Hoxton) on Wednesday last, the 19th instant, about 4 or 5 a clock in the Afternoon. Any one that can give Intelligence of the said Manto Gown to Mr. Blewit's, at the Rose and Crown in Loathberry, shall have 10s. for their pains.

Poetry.

For the Table Book.

THE DESTRUCTION OF

SENNACHERIB'S ARMY.

And it came to pass that night, that the Angel of the Lord went out, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians an hundred fourscore and five thousand and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead corpses!-2 Kings, xix. 35.

The sun in his beauty had sunk to rest,
And with magic colours illumin'd the west,
Casting o'er the temple his brightest gold,
The temple,-Jehovah's dwelling of old:
The flowers were clos'd by the evening breeze,
That sadly sigh'd through Lebanon's trees;
The moon was up, so pale and bright,
(She look'd more beautiful that night,)
Whilst numerous stars were round her gleaming-
Stars in silent beauty beaming.

The Fiend of Fear his dark wings spread

O'er the city of God, and fill'd it with dread;
But the king at the altar prostrate lay,
And plac'd on Jehovah's arm his stay;
In anxious watching he pass'd the night,
Waiting the return of the morning light,
When forth his embattled hosts should move,
The power of Jehovah on the Heathen to prove !

The Assyrian hosts were proud in their might,
And in revelry spent the commencement of night,
'Till the power of wine o'er their coward-souls creep-
ing,

Each man in his armour lay prostrate, sleeping!

At the midnight watch the angel of God
O'er the Assyrian camp spread his wings abroad:
On his brow was plac'd a crown of light,
Which shone like a meteor in the gloom of night,
And quench'd, with its brightness, the moon's pale

sheen,

Which her sickly rays flung over the scene:
His flowing robe in large folds roll'd,
Spangled with gems and bright with gold!
As over the Assyrian camp he pass'd,
He breathed upon them a poisonous blast-
It blanch'd their cheeks-and without a groan
Each soul was hurried to his long, long home!

At the morning watch in the Assyrian camp
Was heard no sound of the war-horse tramp!
The bright sun rose, like a bridegroom dress'd,
And illumin'd the camp from east to west;
But there was no spear in his bright beam gleaming,
Nor polish'd mail his reflected light streaming:
The spear and the armour were cover'd with rust,
And prostrate the warrior lay down in the dust!
To arms! to arms! the trumpet sounded-
The echoes in mockery the blast resounded!
Sennacherib waited his embattled host,

The pride of his heart and his impious boast ;—

The trumpet was sounded again and again,
Its shrill notes echoing o'er the prostrate slain;-
But his bands were bound in the slumber of death,
Nor heeded the war-stirring clarion's breath!
The angel of God had pass'd over the host-
In the grasp of Death lay Sennacherib's host!
O. N. Y.

July, 1827.

For the Table Book.

NIXON'S PROPHECIES.-MR. CANNING.

MR. CANNING's decease on the 8th of August, 1827, occasioned the following article in the newspapers.

THE DEATH OF MR. CANNING PREDICTED BY NIXON, THE ASTROLOGER.

In an old book, entitled The Prophecies of Robert Nixon, printed in the year 1701, is the following prophetic declaration, which appears to refer to the late melancholy event, which has deprived the English nation of one of her brightest ornaments :-" In the year 1827 a man will raise himself by his wisdom to one of the most exalted offices in the state. His king will invest him with great power, as a reward for his zeal. England will be greatly rejoiced. A strong party will enter into a league against him, but their envy and hatred will not prevail. The power of God, which reigneth over all, will cut him off in his prime, and the nation will bitterly bemoan her loss. Oh, England! beware of thy enemies. A great friend thou wilt lose in this man."

The preceding is a prediction made after the event-a mere 66 hoax" on the credulous. There is nothing of the kind among the prophecies imputed to Nixon, who was not an astrologer, and probably existed nowhere but in the imagination of the writer of the manuscript copied by the "Lady Cowper."

BUSH EELS.

At this season when persons, at inns in Lincolnshire, ask for "eel-pie,” they are presently provided with "bush eels;" namely, snakes, caught for that purpose in the bushes, and sold to the landlords cheaply, which are made into stews, pies, and fries."

P.

Sir Edward Sackville, by whose hand the lord Edward Bruce fell, was younger brother to Richard Sackville, earl of Dorset, on whose death he succeeded to the title. He was lord president of the council, a joint lord keeper, and filled several other distinguished offices under Charles I., to whom he adhered, by whose side he fought at the battle of Edge-hill, and whose death he took so much to heart, that he never afterwards stirred out of his house in Salisbury-court, but died there on the 17th of July, 1652.

Between these noblemen there arose a quarrel, which terminated in their duel; and all that is, or probably can be known respecting it, is contained in the following correspondence, preserved in a manuscript in Queen's college library, Oxford.*

A Monsieur, Monsieur Sackvile. "I that am in France, hear how much you attribute to yourself in this time, that I have given the world leave to ring your praises; and for me, the truest almanack, to tell you how much I suffer. If you call to memory, when as I gave you my hand last, I told you I reserved the heart for a truer reconciliation. Now be that noble gentleman, my love once spoke, and come and do him right that could recite the tryals you owe your birth and country, were I not confident your honour gives you the same courage to do me right, that it did to do me wrong. Be master of your own weapons and time; the place wheresoever, I will wait on you. By doing this, you shall shorten revenge, and clear the idle opinion the world hath of both our worths.

"ED. BRUCE."

A Monsieur, Monsieur Baron de Kinloss. "As it shall be always far from me to seek a quarrel, so will I always be ready to meet with any that is desirous to make tryal of my valour, by so fair a course as you require. A witness whereof yourself shall be, who, within a month, shall receive a strict account of time, place, and weapon, where you shall find me ready disposed to give honourable satisfaction, by him that shall conduct you thither. In the mean time, be as secret of the appointment, as it seems you are desirous of it.

"E. SACKVILE."

Collins's Peerage.

The combat was fierce, and fatal to lord Bruce. The survivor, sir Edward Sackville, describes it in a letter, which will be inserted at a future time. For the present purpose it is merely requisite to state, that lord Stowell, in a communication to the earl of Aberdeen, president of the Society of Antiquarians, dated February 15, 1822, seems to have determined the spot whereon the duel was fought, and the place of lord Bruce's interment. From that communication, containing an account of the discovery of his heart, with representations of the case wherein it was enclosed, the following detail is derived, together with the engravings.

It has always been presumed that the duel was fought under the walls of Antwerp; but the combatants disembarked at Bergen-op-Zoom, and fought near that town, and not Antwerp. The circumstances are still well remembered at Bergen, while at Antwerp there is not a trace of them. A small piece of land, a mile and a half from the Antwerp gate of Bergen, goes by the name of Bruce-land; it is recorded as the spot where Bruce fell; and, according to tradition, was purchased by the parties to fight upon. The spot is unclaimed at the present day, and marked by a little earthen boundary, which separates it from the surrounding corn-fields. It was considered, until the French revolution, as free ground, where any person might take refuge without being liable to arrest. Lord Bruce was buried at Bergen, and a monument is stated to have been erected to his memory within the great Protestant church, which was nearly destroyed in the siege of 1747.