juvenile branches of the nobility, to which the Princess Victoria and the young Queen of Portugal were invited. Mostly his time was spent within the limits of the royal domain at Windsor: his out-door amusements consisted of sailing and fishing on the Virginia-Water, or a drive in a pony-phaeton in the magnificent purlieus of the forest. When the weather was unfavourable, the light reading of the day, or the drama, was resorted to. Almost uninterrupted attacks of illness disturbed his seclusion, while they offered an inducement to its continuance. Pains of the eyes, and defective vision, gout in the feet and hands, and, lastly, the great malady of his family, dropsy-to which the Duke of York and his sister had fallen victims,-by turns befel him. In April, his malady assumed a decisive character, and bulletins began to be issued. He had reached his sixty-eighth year, a term rarely allotted to the wearer of a crown. In May, a commission was appointed to affix the royal signature; the king signifying his consent by the word of mouth. Before his death, it was with difficulty he could whisper his verbal affirmative; about a week before he died, his physician delicately announced to him the inevitable catastrophe. "God's will be done!" was the reply. The king's faculties continued unimpaired to the last moment. On adminitering to him the last sacrament, the Bishop of Chichester reminded him. of the Duke of Sussex; when the king charged the prelate, after his death, to carry a message to the duke, saying all offences were forgotten, and to assure him of fraternal affection. His Majesty's sufferings were very great; during the paroxysms of pain, his moans were heard even by the sentinels on duty in the quadrangle.* On the night of the 25th, his cough was unusually painful, and he motioned a page to alter his position on his couch. Toward three o'clock he felt a sudden attack of the bowels, a violent discharge of blood ensued, and his Majesty, on being taken from the bed, appeared to be fainting. At this moment he attempted to raise his hand to his breast, and faintly ejaculated, Oh, God! I am dying;" and two or three seconds after, he said, This is death." king was removed to his couch, and the physicians called. Before they arrived, the glaze of death was over the eyes of the monarch, and George the Fourth had ceased to breathe. This occurred on the 26th June, 1830. The king had been regent since 1811, and sovereign since 1820.

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The

The kind and good KING WILLIAM had a truly Christian death. He departed from life amid the general and unfeigned lamentations of his subjects. His Majesty expired at twelve minutes past two o'clock, on Tuesday morning, the 20th June, 1837, in the presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Dean of Hereford, and other dignitaries. On the previous Sunday he received the sacrament from the Archbishop. He had expressed a wish to survive the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo on the 18th, and so far he was gratified. The Duke of Wellington came, and laid upon his bed the flag commemorative of the victory, by which act his grace has tenure of Strathfieldsay. It was also a singular circumstance, that one of the last deeds of the dying king, whose life had been so mild and merciful, was to sign the pardon of a condemned criminal. Shortly after this, a distressing cough, extreme oppression in breathing, and very languid circulation, left little hope of recovery. He was lethargic, but conscious to the last of the presence of those on whom

How forcibly does this prove the truth of the quotation from the poet Malherbe, a the head of this article!

his affections were fixed. He was fervent in his expressions of religious hope, and just before breathing his last, faintly articulated, "Thy will be done." Queen Adelaide had been unremitting in her attentions; was scarcely ever absent from the sick chamber, and for twelve days did not take off her clothes. The humblest person in the realm could not have exceeded her in the exercise of the last said duties of affection, and in the kind offices she rendered to her afflicted consort. A post mortem examination showed the nature of the disease; exhibiting a general tendency to ossification and decay about the heart, the lungs, and other vital organs. His Majesty was in the seventy-third year of his age, and had completed within a few days the seventh year of his reign.

With this peaceful death of William IV our subject concludes; it may have been long, but the theme is certainly one of interest—one that ought to make men pause, and think, and know, that even the puissance of potentates is a passing shadow, and that this life, though the diadem of empires may glitter around it, is but the nothingness of nothing.

A PROBLEM IN CHESS POETICALLY SOLVED.

Position of THE WHITES.-The King in the Black King's Bishop's place; Queen's Rook in his Queen's place; King's Rook in his King's Bishop's place; King's Knight in his King's Bishop's third square; King's Pawn in his King's fourth square. THE BLACKS.-The King in his third square; King's Pawn in his King's fourth square; Queen in the white Queen's Rook's fourth square; Queen's Rook in his Queen's Knight's second square; Queen's Knight in her Bishop's third square; King's Knight in his King's Rook's third square; Queen's Rook's Pawn in his Rook's second square; Queen's Knight's Pawn in his Queen's Knight's third square; King's Rook in his King's Knight's third square. The White Men have the Move.

HISTORIC RUINS.

Spencer's House at Kilcolman.

"Lift not thy spear against the Muses' home,
The great Emathian conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus when temple and tower
Went to the ground; and the repeated air
Of sad Electra's port had the power

To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare."

MILTON.

THERE are few ruins in Ireland possess more interesting reminiscenses than Kilcolman Castle, the house of Edmund Spencer. Other spots may be recommended by sounding names, pompous titles, or warlike achievements; we pass them by. Here, within these blackened walls, was achieved more lasting fame than all the herald's honours can convey, more brilliant feats of war than ever knightly lists displayed to an applauding world. The proud races have lived and died and are forgotten, or perhaps remembered with contempt for the vices with which they sullied their birth. Deeds of blood mark the ruthless career that prevented the advance of civilization-the spread of industry—the flowing of the bright stream of intelligence amongst their countrymen ; but the power of the gifted being who dwelt on this spot of land which my eyes now traverse, is remembered with pleasure, and recurred to with delight. The verses of Spencer are alive to-day, though two hundred and two score years have elapsed since his death. His constant labours, within these walls are recollected, though, bare and exposed, they tremble in the blast. This is the great privilege of genius-to ennoble the lowly to exalt the humble-to perpetuate the memory of the gifted. Nations disappear from the world-cities rise and fall-temples and palaces sink into a common grave, and are forgotten; but the song of a blind beggar, dead full two thousand five hundred years, preserves the fame of Troy, although no trace exists to mark its foundation. A dull and shallow river glides along the plain, and presents no object to excite the slightest emotion; but when you remember that it is the Scamander sacred to poetry, and the mystic rites of the ancients, the feelings are aroused and memories of the days that are gone crowd upon the brain. Thus it is with Kilcolman. As a mere building it is nothing. Fragment of a tower blackened by time and fire. A few walls contiguous hang tremulously together, forming chambers half choked by the encroaching mould and weeds that grow from the earthen floors. The situation at present is forbidding enough. The castle stands on a slightly elevated mound, in an undulating country, about three miles from Buttevant, county Cork. A rough and uncared-for causeway leads from the high road past some scattered cabins, through a farm yard. Thence a pathway leads by the verge of a small piece of water, luxuriating in the opaque hue imparted by the ver

dant mud with which the bottom is coated, and unshaded by tree or flower. But towering over all stands the castle, and undoubtedly, the interest which the lone ruin creates, asserts the superiority of intellectual renown. The poetic visiter speedily invests it with suitable attractions. The mullioned window frames display the glories of emblazoned panes, reflecting the light of day in many a varied hue. The rooms are such as a poet might wish to dwell in, flowers bloom in vases of alabaster, and books and statues bespeak the tasteful possessor. As we climbed the stair, recollection of the days when Raleigh dwelt here, the guest of Spencer, came o'er us, as we looked through the ivy curtained casement, and beheld a scene around, which in all, save the presence of trees and occasional flight of imagination, suggesting additional charms, might be fairly enough described in these lines

"It was an hill plaste in an open plaine,

That round about was bordered with a wood,

Of matchlesse hight, that seem'd the earth to disdaine;
In which all trees of honour stately stood.
And did all winter as in summer bud,
Spreading pavilions for the birds to bowre,
Which in their lower branches sung aloud;
And on their tops the soringe hawke did towre,
Sitting like king of fowles in maissty and powre.

And at the foote thereof a gentle flood
His silver waves did softly tumble downe-
Unmard with ragged mosse or filthy mud,

Ne mighte wylde beaste, ne mote the ruder clown,
There to approach; ne filthe mote thereon drowne,
But Nymphs and Fairies by the banks did sit,
In the woods shade which did the waters crowne,
Keeping all noysome things away from it,

And to the waters fall tuning their accents fit."

The hill still remains, and the open plain spreads its green bosom for the sunbeams to nestle. The river still tumbles his silver waves free from all impurities; but the sweet songster is silent-the nymphs and fairies are fled, and

"The wood's shade which did the waters crowne,"

have long since ceased to cast their boughs to the wind.

The history of Kilcolman Castle is brief. It was a fortalice belonging to the Fitz-Geralds, Earls of Desmond, and, on the attainder of Gerald the renowned rebel in Queen Elizabeth's reign, escheated to the crown. The estates of this puissant lord were said to have extended one hundred and fifty miles in length throughout the province of Munster, and afforded a plentiful harvest to the successful undertakers, who were willing to become planters in the Hibernian colony. There was no lack of needy men-soldiers of fortune-men of good connexions and small means— hangers-on of the great in England who eagerly sought for the prizes in fortune's wheel. Spencer's poetical talents had made for him powerful friends about the gay court of Queen Elizabeth, and they were willing to serve him. Accordingly a grant of the forfeited lands to the extent of 3028 acres was procured, through the influence of the Earl of Leicester, Lord Grey of Wilton, and Sir Philip Sydney. He seems to have

lost no time in taking possession, for we find the attainder of the Earl and Spencer's arriving, at Kilcolman, noticed in the same year 1586. When we remember the career he spent, his noble soul and high aspiration, we do not wonder at his haste to enjoy independence. Accustomed to the hard fate of attendance on the courtiers, whom he was compelled to address in the humility of a dependant, obliged to cringe and flatter men whose intellects he well knew were so far beneath his own, doomed to repay for the daily food which sustained life, eulogistic verses which he knew were beneath the glorious outburst of a genius longing to fling forth its ample stores on some work more suited than adulatory sonnets, the wonder indeed is how he had patience and resolution to bear it. That he felt most intensely the degrading chains he wore is powerfully told by himself—

"Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried,
What hell it is in sueing long to bide:

To loose good days that might be better spent ;
To waste long nights in pensive discontent;
To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow,
To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow;
To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers;
To have thy asking, yet wait manie years.
To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares,
To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs,
To fawne, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to ronne,
To spend, to give, to want, to be undone :
Unhappy wight borne to disastrous end,

That doth his life in so long tendance spend."

Freedom to the captive-liberty to the slave-a reprieve to the culprit about to expiate his crime on the scaffold, are blissful events, but not more so than the feeling of independence in a mind like Spencer's-the haven of repose after the sea of troubles he so perseveringly buffetted through. Some of the writers who have mentioned his career, compassionate the fate that banished him into Ireland-an "exile from necessity not choice," and unquestionably he was well suited to ornament the court of the Queen, thronged as it then was by the great pioneers of civilization whose fame has descended to our time, sparkling and pure as the living water which falls from a perpetual spring.

To lose the society of Bacon, Shakespeare, Raleigh, Sydney, and the famed warriors, statesmen and philosophers who swelled the blaze of glory, that casts its brilliancy over the era, must have been a sore trial, but it was better to do so, and I have no doubt the world were the gainers. The uncertainty of mind in which Spencer lived in London, his anxiety to raise himself above the servile position in which his want of fortune placed him, must ever have prevented his undertaking any great consecutive work, therefore it is to the grant of his estate of Kilcolman, to his residence here, removed from the distractions of a London life, the dissipations of the court, the interruptions of his associates, that we owe the composition of the "Fairie Queene," the most superb allegorical work that human brain ever conceived. The glorious thoughts and sublime images here pourtrayed are the genuine emanations of a spirit walking forth from the cares and anxieties of this world, into a region of etherial brightness and beauty. An intense lover of nature, the scenery