Poetry. [In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author is printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is printed in Italics at the end.] THE FLIGHT OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS BY T. [Mary, escaped from the Castle of Loch-leven, was on her way to Dumbarton, when she was met by Murray and the lords opposed to her, on an eminence called Langside. Standing on the hill, the disconsolate queen saw her faithful adherents utterly routed. Attended by a small retinue, she took to flight, and reached the Next morning, in spite of the earnest entreaties of the Archbishop Abbey of Dundrennan, a distance of sixty miles, before nightfall. of St. Andrew's and others, she determined to throw herself on the generosity of Elizabeth, and crossed the fatal Solway Firth.] And queenly is the thrilling glance and kindling of her eye; been made. A train of twenty loaded waggons was transmitted a distance of sixty miles in less than an hour and a quarter-the whole motive power being the liquid air inclosed in a vessel of two gallons and a half measure; into which fell, drop by drop, and from minute to minute, the chemical composition in question. Already subscriptions are abundant, and a society is in course of formation. The inventor declares, that an ordinary packet-boat may make the passage from Philadelphia to Havre in eight days, carrying a ton of his liquid air. A steam-engine, of six-horse power, will produce that quantity in eight hours."-According, then, to this project, we are to correspond with America in an hour, and reach it in a week! On this new solution of the theory of motion by expansion, the Journal des Débats has some remarks, which we will adopt:-"This account of the liquefaction of atmospheric air, given in a private letter, the source of which is but vaguely indicated, seems to need the authentic confirmation of the American journals, and at any rate of details somewhat more circumstantial. Not that the fact is theoretically impossible; all known experiments on the compression of air tending to establish the probability of its liquefaction: but one cannot help asking under what intensity of force it has been produced-whether the agent be a steam-But yet, all way-worn though she be, her mien is proud and high, engine or any other propelling power? Carbonic gas has been liquefied, under the pressure of thirty atmospheres, and solidated in the form of ice, under the pres sure of forty. But that gas is denser and heavier than air, its constituent atoms more close, and consequently more easy of condensation. Already, both in England and France, conclusive experiments have been made as to the possibility of propelling trains by the expansive force of compressed air;-the objection and difficulty consists in the necessity of establishing steam, or other engines, at repeated distances, to fill with compressed or liquefied air the recipients destined to be placed on the locomotives instead of the steam-cylinder. That cost and difficulty have hitherto prevented the application of the system of compressed air. It is greatly | to be desired, then, that the problem in question may have been solved in America; but we must have more full and sure particulars before the scientific or manufacturing world can venture to believe it. What seems more extraordinary than the liquefaction itself, is the assertion that this air can be contained in a cask, like any other liquid,-knowing as we do that it can only be maintained in that state in recipients of extraordinary resistance. Our readers will remember the accident which happened in Paris, at the School of Pharmacy, on the occasion of the liquefaction of carbonic gas. A metallic cylinder of great thickness, which had, two or three times previously, resisted the same experiment, suddenly exploded; when one of the operators was killed, and several of the assistants were wounded. Now, air has a resisting and elastic force far greater than that of carbonic acid. Neither is the necessity intelligible for that drop of a nameless chemical agent for the purpose of restoring to the air its expansive action; since, for that purpose, it will suffice to open it an issue, unless, indeed, it is pretended to reduce the air to the condition of a permanent liquid-and that no natural philosopher will believe, till he has seen it." For since the morning sun uprose upon the far-off vale, And startled hamlets heard thy war-ery borne upon the gale, "O'er many a rugged mountain-path, through many a changing scene "Of stream and vale, and forest dark, thy headlong flight hath been." From false and hollow-hearted free, her days might glide serene. For she of all my kin alone remains to me on earth, And, way-worn exile though I be, I am of queenly birth." The deep despair of weary years, and all their bitter wrong; (1) See Illustration, p. 337. LETTER FROM MISS S. TO HER NIECE, KATE S.1 BY F. S. AND are you then caught, my dear Kitty? You always resolved to be free! And by a young spark from the City? I would not, my love, wish to shame you, If he lies in bed late of a morning; If he sports a particular hat; If he cocks it the least on one side. If you've caught him out talking at random; Some girls seem to think, my dear Kitty, Miscellaneous. "I have here made only a nosegay of culled flowers, and have brought nothing of my own, but the string that ties them."-Montaigne. MOTHER OF LORD BACON. Like several other extraordinary men, he is supposed to have inherited his genius from his mother; and he certainly was indebted to her for the early culture of his mind, and the love of books, for which during life he was distinguished. Young Francis was sickly, and unable to join in the rough sports suited for boys of robust constitution. The Lord Keeper was too much occupied with his official duties to be able to do more than kiss him, and hear him occasionally recite a little piece he had learned by heart, and give him his blessing. But Lady Bacon, who was not only a tender mother, but a woman of highly cultivated mind, after the manner of her age, devoted herself assiduously to her youngest child, who, along with bodily weakness, exhibited from early infancy the dawnings of extraordinary intellect. She and her sisters had received a regular classical education, and had kept up her familiarity with the poets, historians, and philosophers of antiquity. She was likewise well acquainted with modern languages, and with the theology and literature of her own times. She corresponded in Greek with Bishop Jewel respecting the then fashionable controversies, and she translated his Apologia" from the Latin so correctly, that neither he nor Archbishop Parker could suggest a single alteration. She also translated admirably a volume of ser mnons on "Fate and Free-will," from the Italian of Bernado Ochino. Under his mother's care, assisted by a domestic tutor, Francis Bacon continued till his thirteenth year. From Lord Campbell's Lives of the Chan cellors. PARENTAGE OF THOMAS A EECKET. GILBERT BECK, or BECKET, the father of this most extraordinary man, was of Saxon descent, a merchant in London, who, though only of moderate wealth, had served the office of sheriff of that city. His mother, whose name was Matilda, was certainly of the same race, and born in the same condition of life as her husband: although, after her son had become chancellor, and archbishop, a martyr, and a saint,-a romantic story was invented that she was the daughter of an Emir in Palestine; that Gilbert, her future consort, having joined a crusade, and being taken prisoner by her father, she fell in love with him; that when he escaped and returned to his native country, she followed him, knowing no words of any western tongue except "London" and "Gilbert;" that by the use of these she at last found him in Cheapside; and that, being converted to Christianity, and baptized, she became his wife. Becket himself, in an epistle, in which he gives an account of his origin, is entirely silent about his Syrian blood; and Fitzstephen, his secretary, says expressly that he was born of parents who were citizens of London.-Lord Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors. THERE is scarce any lot so low, but there is something in it to satisfy the man whom it has befallen; Providence having so ordered things, that in every man's cup, how bitter so ever, there are some cordial drops--some good circumstances, which, if wisely extracted, are sufficient for the purpose he wants them--that is, to make him contented, and, if not happy, at least resigned. -Sterne. The Title and Index to the first Volume may be had, price 1d.; also, the Covers, price ls. 3d. CONTENTS. Page The Cinque Ports, No. II... 337 | POETRY: 339 A Farewell Visit to the Chinese Exhibition... Natural History of Birds, (No. VI. continued)........ 342 Ascent of the Peter Botte Mountain,(with Illustration) 344 347 Popular Year-Book........... The Wenham Ice-Lake...... 348 THE mother of Lord Bacon was one of the daughters New Locomotive Agency.... 350 of Sir Anthony Cooke, tutor to King Edward VI. (1) See vol. i. p. 238. Page The Flight of Mary Queen of Scots into England, (with Illustration)........ 51 Letter from Miss S. to her Niece, Kate S............. 352 MISCELLANEOUS :Mother of Lord Bacon— Parentage of Thomas à Becket, &c. ...................... 352 London:-Published by T. B. SHARPE, 15, Skinner Street, Snow-hill. Printed by R. CLAY, Bread Street Hill. THE WEST BOW, EDINBURGH.1 IMPROVEMENT, in the rapid strides it has made over the whole town of Edinburgh, has laid a heavy foot upon the West Bow; causing it to be numbered among those things which once were in existence, but now are no more. This ancient strect was built on the steep slope on the southern side of the ridge upon which the principal part of the city is built, leading from the Castle-hill to the Grassmarket. Every one who has been in Edinburgh knows that, from the Castle to Holyrood Palace, being the whole extent of this ridge, which slopes pretty steeply from the Castle downwards, there is a close succession of these alleys (or closes as they are termed) running down on each side of the ridge to the hollows on the north and south. These are almost all dark and dismal looking places, narrow and confined, ruinous and filthy. They are inhabited entirely by the lowest class of the people, many of whom are allowed to retain possession of their miserable abodes, free of any expense, without molesta tion from the proprietors. This, however, was not always the case. It is not long since these very houses were 'inhabited by people in the highest class of society, and, not until a comparatively recent period, when they had secured for themselves residences of a more modern build, in a healthier and more pleasant situation, to the north of the Old Town, did they make a sudden adjournment from the venerable piles which their forefathers had reared and inhabited many centuries before them. or a sister, who should, with solemn voice and faltering tongue, bid him his last farewell! Many such scenes might have been witnessed in the West Bow; and we shall perhaps be allowed to recall to figures so eminently in Sir Walter Scott's novel of the our readers' memory, the story of Captain Porteous, who Heart of Midlothian, and who was also one of those unfortunate men, who, in order to satisfy the cravings of public justice, had to be dragged down this narrow road to suffer the penalty of his guilt. John Porteous was the son of a tailor in Edinburgh; his father intended to bring him up to his own trade, rent's prudent intention, and he enlisted into the Scotch but the youthful profligacy of the son defeated the pa corps at that time in the service of the States of Holland. Here he learned military discipline, and, upon returning to his own country in 1715, his services were engaged by the magistrates of Edinburgh to discipline the city guard. For such a task he was eminently qualified, not only by his military education, but by his natural of his character, he received a captain's commission in activity and resolution; and, in spite of the profligacy the corps. The duty of the Edinburgh City Guard was to preserve the public peace when any tumult was apprehended. They consisted principally of discharged veterans, who, when off duty, worked at their respective trades. To the rabble they were objects of mingled derision and dislike, and the numerous indignities they suffered, rendered them somewhat morose and austere in temper. At public executions they generally surrounded the scaffold, and it was on an occasion of this kind that Porteous their captain committed the outrage for which he paid the penalty of his life. The criminal, on the occasion in question, had excited the commiseration of the populace by the disinterested courage he displayed in achieving the escape of his accomplice. At this time it was customary to conduct prisoners under sentence of death to attend divine ser vice in the Tolbooth Church. Wilson, the criminal above alluded to, and Robertson, his companion in crime, had reached the church, guarded by four soldiers, when Wilson suddenly seized one of the guards in each hand, and a third with his teeth, and shouted to his accomplice to fly for his life. Robertson immediately fled, and effected his escape. This circumstance naturally excited a strong feeling of sympathy for Wilson, and the magistrates, fearing an attempt at rescue, had requested the presence of a detachment of infantry in a street adjoining to that where the execution was to take place, for the purpose of intimidating the populace. The introduction of another military force than his own into This movement, while it was one of the greatest advantage to the city at large, drew down with it the glory, and in many cases, caused the entire ruin, of the streets of the Old Town; and among those which suffered, was that one on which we are endeavouring to offer a few remarks, and of which, as it possessed an additional advantage over all the others, in size and circumstances, the loss was consequently more regretted. Of all the closes, the West Bow was the most considerable, being at that time the principal avenue by which wheeled carriages reached the more elevated part of the city. It was by it that Anne of Denmark, James I. and Charles I. Oliver Cromwell, Charles II. and James II. passed in formal procession into the city. Its ancient buildings presented a most picturesque appearance, and it is a matter of deep regret to all the lovers of the antique, that they have been almost entirely de-a quarter of the city where no drums but his own were stroyed. But, independently of these, its locality was regarded with an interest which failed not to produce a mingled feeling of melancholy awe upon all. This was owing to its being the road leading to the Grassmarket, or, as it has not inappropriately been called, The Valley of the Shadow of Death, where criminals were made to suffer the severe penalties of the law. And it was impossible for any one to pass up or down this way, without picturing to himself one of those heart-rending scenes, of which it was so often the witness, and to imagine the poor criminal's look, when with pale visage and throbbing heart, he was hurried down the narrow road to meet his final doom; and how the tears would gush from his swollen eyes when he should venture to cast a glance at those venerable walls, between which he passed, and from the balconies and windows of which many had come, some with sullen scowl and some with heartfelt pity, to mark the last moments of his life. But how his heart would bleed within him, and how excruciatingly painful would be the anguish of his soul, when at one of these windows he descried the face of a brother (1) See Illustration, page 353. ever beat, highly incensed Captain Porteous, and aggravated the ferocity of a temper naturally surly and brutal. Contrary to the apprehension of the authorities, the execution was allowed to pass undisturbed, but the dead body had hung only a short time upon the gibbet when a tumult arose among the multitude; stones and other missiles were thrown at Porteous and his men, and one of the populace, more adventurous than the rest, sprung upon the scaffold, and cut the rope by which the criminal was suspended. Porteous was exasperated to frenzy by this outrage on his authority, and, leaping from the scaffold, he seized the musket of one of the guards, gave the word to fire, and, discharging his piece, shot the man dead upon the spot. Several of his soldiers also having obeyed his order to fire, six or seven persons were killed, and many others wounded. The mob still continuing their attack, another volley was fired upon them, by which several others fell, and the scene of violence only closed when Porteous and his soldiers reached the guard-house in the High Street. For his reckless and sanguinary conduct in this affair, Captain Porteous was arraigned before the High Court of Justiciary, and sentence of death was passed upon him. His execution was appointed to take place on the 8th of September, were of a class unaccustomed to mingle in scenes of 1736. vulgar tumult. The day of doom at length arrived, and the ample area of the Grassmarket was crowded in every part with a countless multitude, drawn together to gratify their revenge or satisfy their sense of justice by the spectacle of the execution. But their vengeance met with a temporary disappointment. The hour of execution was already past, without the appearance of the criminal, and the expectant multitude began to interchange suspicions that a reprieve might have arrived. Deep and universal was the groan of indignation which arose from the crowd, when they learned that such was indeed the fact. The case having been represented to her Majesty Queen Caroline, she intimated her royal plea sure that the prisoner should be reprieved for six weeks. The shout of disappointed revenge was followed by suppressed mutterings and communings among the crowd, but no act of violence was committed; they saw the gallows taken down, and then gradually dispersed to their homes and occupations. Night ushered in another scene; a drum was heard beating to arms, and the populace promptly answered its summons by turning out into the streets. Their numbers rapidly increased, and, separating into different parties, they took possession of the city gates, posting sentinels for their security. They then disarmed the City Guard, and, having thus possessed themselves of weapons, they were the uncontrolled masters of the city. During the progress of the riot, various efforts were made to communicate with the Castle, but the vigilance of the insurgents defeated all such attempts. The Tolbooth was now invested, and, a strong party of the rioters having surrounded it, another party proceeded to break up the doors. For a considerable time the great strength of the place rendered their efforts fruitless, but, having brought fire to their aid, they burned the door, and rushed into the prison. Porteous, elated with his escape from the sentence he so richly merited, was regaling a party of his boon companions within the building, when the assault was made upon its gates. The wretched man well knew the hatred with which he was regarded by the populace, and was at no loss to comprehend the motive for their violence. Escape seemed impossible. The chimney was the only place of concealment that occurred to him, and, scrambling into it, he supported himself by laying hold of the bars of iron with which the chimnies of a prison-house are crossed to prevent the escape of criminals. But his enemies soon dragged him from his hiding-place, and, hurrying him along the streets, they brought him to the very spot, where, that morning, he was to have paid the forfeit of his life. The want of a rope was now the sole obstacle to the accomplishment of their purpose, and this want was soon supplied by breaking open a shop where the article was sold; a dyer's pole served in the room of a gallows, and from it they suspended the unhappy man. Having thus propitiated the spirit of offended justice, they threw down the weapons of which they had possessed themselves, and quietly dispersed to their respective homes. It has been justly observed, that the murder of Porteous has more the character of a conspiracy than of a riot. The whole proceedings of the insurgents were marked by a cool and deliberate intrepidity, quite at variance with the accustomed conduct of rioters. No violence was perpetrated either upon person or property, save the single act of vengeance executed upon Porteous. So studions were the insurgents to avoid every appear ance of prædial outrage, that a guinea was left upon the counter of the shop from which they took the rope to hang their victim. None of the offenders were ever discovered, although government made the most strenuous exertions, and offered large rewards for their apprehension. There can be little doubt, however, that many of the participators in that night's transactions Before concluding, we may mention that the famous Major Weir, and his sister, who were both burned alive on being convicted of practising the arts of witchcraft, had their abode in one of the projecting houses at the head of this alley. Sir Walter Scott, in his History of Demonology and Witchcraft, in giving the particulars of his life, mentions, that no story of witchcraft, or necromancy, so many of which occurred near, and in Edinburgh, made such a lasting impression on the public mind as that of Major Weir; that the remains of the house in which he and his sister lived, were still shown in his own day, and that it had a very gloomy aspect, well suited for a necromancer; and that, while at different times it had served the purposes of a brazier's shop, and a magazine for lint, no family would inhabit the walls as a residence; and that that urchin from the High School was accounted bold, who dared approach the gloomy ruins, at the risk of seeing the Major's enchanted staff parading through the old apartments, or hearing the hum of the necromantic wheel, which procured for his sister such a character as a spinner. THE CHURCH IN THE CATACOMBS. THE Church in the Catacombs! Reader! this is not a matter of curious antiquarian lore, which you may pass lightly by, as a thing in which you have no concern. It is a solemn and touching subject, affecting every one who would give "a reason for the hope that is in him;" appealing to the sympathies of every member of our holy Church; calling upon him to show something of that zeal in his Master's service, which stirred up the blessed martyrs and saints of old to renounce every thing that the world holds dear and precious, for the sake of a pure and undefiled religion. The Church in the Catacombs! A chosen band of Christians, of various ranks and ages; father and son; mother and child; husband and wife; friends and kindred; the slave and the free; assembled in gloomy vaults to worship God, indifferent alike to the bribes and persecutions of paganism; mindful only of the Cross upon which their beloved Master offered up the one great atoning sacrifice; struggling on during three centuries, but increasing in numbers and in influence, until at length they emerged from their dark retreats, and the unclouded light of Christianity burst upon the world. dens the heart of every true Christian now; but, like the air we breathe, we enjoy it so freely, that we are apt to forget how dearly it was purchased; we know but little of the enduring sufferings of those who kept this precious inheritance for us; we derive small benefit from their bright example; we vainly imagine that because our Church has no open persecutors, it is safe from the wiles of concealed enemies; who, though they have not-God be praised!—the powers of oppression possessed by the Pagans of old, nevertheless succeed in winning many from their faith. Let us then cherish the great lesson conveyed by the Church in the Catacombs, a slight sketch of whose history we have gathered from a most interesting work, recently published, and which we earnestly recommend to the perusal of our readers.1 It is this glorious light which shines upon and glad (1) The Church in the Catacombs;" a description of the primitive Church of Rome, illustrated by its sepulchral remains. By Charles Maitland, M.D. London, 1846. |