trates a brochure published in 1595, under the name of 'Maroccus Exstaticus: or Bankes Bay Horse in a Traunce; a Discourse set downe in a merry dialogue between Bankes and his Beast intituled to Mine Host of the Belsauage and all his honest guests.' Morocco was then a young nag of a chestnut or bay colour, of moderate size. The tricks which the animal performed do not seem to us now-a-days very wonderful; but such matters were then comparatively rare, and hence they were regarded with infinite astonishment. The creature was trained to erect itself and leap about on its hind legs. We are gravely told that it could dance the Canaries. A glove being thrown down, its master would command it to take it to some particular person: for example, to the gentleman in the large ruff, or the lady with the green mantle; and this order it would correctly execute. Some coins being put into the glove, it would tell how many they were by raps with its foot. It could, in like manner, tell the numbers on the upper face of a pair of dice. As an example of comic performances, it would be desired to single out the gentleman who was the greatest slave of the fair sex; and this it was sure to do satisfactorily enough. In reality, as is now well known, these feats depend upon a simple training to obey a

certain signal, as the call of the word Up. Almost any young horse of tolerable intelligence could be trained to do such feats in little more than a month.

Morocco was taken by its master to be exhibited in Scotland in 1596, and there it was thought to be animated by a spirit. In 1600, its master astonished London by making it override the vane of St Paul's Cathedral. We find in the Jest-books of the time, that, while this performance was going on in presence of an enormous crowd, a serving-man came to his master walking about in the middle aisle, and entreated him to come out and see the spectacle. Away, you fool!' answered the gentleman; 'what need I go so far to see a horse on the top, when I can see so many asses at the bottom!' Banks also exhibited his horse in France, and there, by way of stimulating popular curiosity, professed to believe that the animal really was a spirit in equine form. This, however, had very nearly led to unpleasant consequences, in raising an alarm that there was something diabolic in the case. Banks very dexterously saved himself for this once by causing the horse to select a man from a crowd with a cross on his hat, and pay homage to the sacred emblem, calling on all to observe that nothing satanic could have been in

duced to perform such an act of reverence. Owing, perhaps, to this incident, a rumour afterwards prevailed that Banks and his curtal [nag] were burned as subjects of the Black Power of the World at Rome, by order of the Pope. But more authentic notices shew Banks as surviving in King Charles's time, in the capacity of a jolly vintner in Cheapside.*

It may at the same time be remarked that there would have been nothing decidedly extraordinary in the horse being committed with its master to a fiery purgation. In a little book entitled Le Diable Bossu, Nancy, 1708, 18mo, there is an obscure allusion to an English horse whose master had taught him to know the cards, and which was burned alive at Lisbon in 1707; and Mr Granger, in his Biographical History of England (vol. iii., p. 164, edit. 1779), has informed us that, within his remembrance, a horse which had been taught to perform several tricks was, with his owner, put into the Inquisition.' -Douce's Illustrations of Shakspeare, i. 214.

THE BATTLE OF PLASSEY.

The 5th of February 1757 is noted as the date of the battle which may be said to have decided that the English should be the masters of India. Surajah Dowlah, the youthful Viceroy or Nabob of Bengal, had overpowered the British factory at Calcutta, and committed the monstrous cruelty of shutting up a hundred and forty-six English in the famous Black Hole, where, before morning, all but twenty-three had perished miserably. Against him came from Madras the 'heaven-born soldier' Robert Clive, with about three thousand troops, of which only a third were English, together with a fleet under Admiral Watson. Aided by a conspiracy in the Nabob's camp in favour of Meer Jaffier, and using many artifices and tricks which seemed to him justified by the practices of the enemy, Clive at length found himself at Cossimbuzar, a few miles from Plassey, where lay Surajah Dowlah with sixty thousand men. He had to consider that, if he crossed the intermediate river and failed in his attack, himself and his troops would be utterly lost. A council of war advised him against advancing. Yet, inspired by his wonderful genius, he determined on the bolder course. The Bengalese army advanced upon him with an appearance of power which would have appalled most men; but the first cannonade from the English threw it into confusion. It fled; Surajah descended into obscurity; and the English found India open to them. One hardly knows whether to be most astonished at the courage of Clive, or at the perfidious arts (extending in one instance to deliberate forgery) to which he at the same time descended in order to out-manœuvre a too powerful enemy. The conduct of the English general is defended by his biographer Sir John Malcolm, but condemned by Lord Macaulay, who remarks that the maxim 'Honesty is the best policy' is even more true of states than of individuals, in as far as states

* See Halliwell's Shakspeare, notes to Love's Labour Lost, for a great assemblage of curious notices regarding Banks and Morocco; also Chambers's Domestic Annals of Scotland, under April 1596.

DEATH OF CHARLES II.

are longer-lived, and adds, 'It is possible to mention men who have owed great worldly prosperity to breaches of private faith; but we doubt whether it is possible to mention a state which has on the whole been a gainer by a breach of public faith.'

Insignificant as was the English force employed on this occasion, we must consider the encounter as, from its consequences, one of the great battles of the world.

FEBRUARY 6.

St Dorothy, virgin martyr, 304. St Mel, bishop of Ardagh, 488. St Vedast, bishop of Arras, 539. St Barsanuphius, of Palestine, 6th century. St Amandus,

675.

Born-Antoine Arnauld, French theologian, 1612, Paris; Anne, Queen of England, 1665, St James's; Augustine Calmet, 1672.

Died.-Jacques Amyot, Great Almoner of France, 1593; Charles II., King of England, 1685, Whitehall; Pope Clement XII., 1740; Dr Joseph Priestley, chemist and electrician, 1804, Pennsylvania.

DEATH OF CHARLES THE SECOND. The winter of 1684-5 had been spent by the Court at Whitehall, amid the gaieties common to the season. Evelyn could never forget 'the inexpressible luxury and profaneness, gaming, and all dissoluteness, and, as it were, a total forgetfulness of God (it being Sunday evening)' which he was witness of; the King sitting and toying with his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleveland, Mazarine, &c., a French boy singing love-songs in that glorious gallery, whilst about twenty of the great courtiers and other dissolute persons were at basset, round a large table, a bank of at least £2000 in gold before them; upon which two gentlemen who were with me made strange reflections. Six days after, all was in the dust.' Burnet tells us that the King' ate little all that day, and came to Lady Portsmouth, his favourite mistress, at night, and called for a porringer of spoon meat. Being made too strong for his stomach, he ate little, and had a restless night.' Another account states that the revels extended over Sunday night until the next morning, when at eight o'clock the King swooned away in his chair, and was seized with a fit of apoplexy; and, according to Evelyn, had not Dr King, who was accidentally present, and had a lancet in his pocket, bled his Majesty, 'he would certainly have died that moment, which might have been of direful consequence, there being nobody else present with the King, save his doctor and one more. It was a mark of extraordinary dexterity, resolution, and presence of mind in the doctor, to let him blood in the very paroxysm, without staying the coming of other physicians, which regularly should have been done, and for want of which he must have a regular pardon, as they tell me.' The Privy Council, however, approved of what he had done, and ordered him £1000, but which was never paid him. This saved the King for the instant; but next morning he had another fit, and the phy

sicians told the Duke of York that his majesty was not likely to live through the day.

Then took place a scene, revealing the hypocrisy of a lifetime; that is, shewing that Charles, while professing Protestantism, had all along been, as far as he was any thing, a Catholic. The Duke,' says Burnet, ordered Huddleston, the priest, who had mainly contributed to the saving of Charles at Worcester, to be brought to the lodgings under the bedchamber. When Huddleston was told what was to be done, he was in great confusion, for he had not brought the host. He went, however, to another priest, who lived in the court, who gave him the pix, with an host in it. Everything being prepared, the Duke whispered the King in the ear; upon that the King ordered that all who were in the bedchamber should withdraw, except the Earls of Bath and Feversham; and the door was double-locked. The company was kept out half an hour; only Lord Feversham opened the door once, and called for a glass of water. Cardinal Howard told Bishop Burnet that, in the absence of the company, Huddleston, according to the account he sent to Rome, made the King go through some acts of contrition, and, after obtaining such a confession as he was then able to give, he gave him absolution. The consecrated wafer stuck in the King's throat, and that was the reason of calling for a glass of water. Charles told Huddleston that he had saved his life twice, first his body, then his soul.

When the company were admitted, they found the King had undergone a marvellous alteration. Bishop Ken then vigorously applied himself to the awaking of the King's conscience, and pronounced many short ejaculations and prayers, of which, however, the King seemed to take no notice, and returned no answer. He pressed the King six or seven times to receive the sacrament; but the King always declined, saying he was very weak. But Ken pronounced over him absolution of his sins. *** The King suffered much inwardly, and said he was burnt up within. He said once that he hoped he should climb up to heaven's gates, which was the only word savouring of religion that he used.'

During the night Charles earnestly recommended the Duchess of Portsmouth and her boy to the care of James; and do not,' he goodnaturedly added, let poor Nelly starve.' The Queen sent excuses for her absence, saying she was too much disordered to resume her post by the couch, and implored pardon. She ask my pardon, poor woman!' cried Charles; 'I ask hers, with all my heart.'

The morning light began to peep through the windows of Whitehall, and Charles desired the attendants to pull aside the curtains, that he might once more look at the day. He remembered that it was time to wind up a clock which stood near his bed. These little circumstances were long remembered, because they proved beyond dispute that, when he declared himself a Roman Catholic, he was in full possession of his faculties. He apologised to those who stood round him all night for the trouble which he had caused. He had been, he said, a most unconscionable time dying, but he hoped they would excuse it.

A WONDERFUL CHILD.

This was the last glimpse of that exquisite urbanity so often found potent to charm away the resentment of a justly incensed nation. Soon after dawn the speech of the dying man failed. Before ten his senses were gone. Great numbers had repaired to the churches at the hour of morning service. When the prayer for the King was read, loud groans and sobs shewed how deeply his people felt for him. At noon, on Friday, the 6th of February, he passed away without a struggle.'*

It was the belief of many at the time that Charles II. was poisoned. It was common then and in the preceding age to attribute the sudden death of any great man to poison; but, in Charles's case, the suspicions are not without authority. Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, says: The most knowing and the most deserving of all his physicians did not only believe him poisoned, but thought himself so too, not long after, for having declared his opinion a little too boldly.'+ Bishop Patrick strengthens the supposition from the testimony of Sir Thomas Mellington, who sat with the King for three days, and never went to bed for three nights. Lord Chesterfield, the grandson of the Earl of Chesterfield who was with Charles at his death, states positively that the King was poisoned. § The Duchess of Portsmouth, when in England in 1699, is said to have told Lord Chancellor Cowper that Charles II. was poisoned at her house by one of her footmen in a dish of chocolate; and Fox had heard a somewhat similar report from the family of his mother, who was grand-daughter to the Duchess.

This historical evidence is, however, invalidated by more recent investigation. On examining King Charles's head, a copious effusion of lymph was found in the ventricles and at the base of the cranium; from which Sir Henry Halford was disposed to think that the King might have been still further bled with advantage. It is quite evident from Sir Henry's account, that Charles II. died of apoplexy-the only too probable conse quence of his excesses-and consequently that his indifference to the solicitations of those about him, on religious matters, can only, with charity, be attributed to the effects of his disease.||

A WONDERFUL CHILD.

The annals of precocity present no more remarkable instance than the brief career of Christian Heinecker, born at Lubeck, February 6, 1721. At the age of ten months he could speak and repeat every word which was said to him: when twelve months old, he knew by heart the principal events narrated in the Pentateuch : in his second year he learned the greater part of the history of the Bible, both of the Old and New Testaments: in his third year he could reply to most questions on universal history and geography, and in the same year he learned to speak Latin and French: in his fourth year he employed himself in the study of religion and the

*Macaulay's History of England, vol. i.

+ Buckingham's Works, vol. ii. Bishop Patrick's Autobiography.

8 Letters to his Son.

Paper read to the College of Physicians, by Sir Henry Halford, in 1835.

THE TWO UNKNOWN SISTERS.

MRS RADCLIFFE'S ROMANCES.

history of the church, and he was able not only to repeat what he had read, but also to reason upon it, and express his own judgment. The King of Denmark wishing to see this wonderful child, he was taken to Copenhagen, there examined before the court, and proclaimed to be a wonder. On his return home, he learned to write, but, his constitution being weak, he shortly after fell ill; he died on the 27th of June 1725, without, it is said, shewing much uneasiness at the approach of death. This account of him by his teacher is confirmed by many respectable contemporary authorities. Martini published a dissertation at Lubeck, in which he attempted to account for the circumstances of the child's early development of intellect.

It cannot be too generally known that extreme precocity like this is of the nature of disease and a subject for the gravest care. In a precocious child, the exercise of the intellect, whether in lessons or otherwise, should be discouraged and controlled, not, as it too often is, stimulated, if there be any sincere desire that the child should

live.

THE TWO UNKNOWN SISTERS-A CORNISH

LEGEND. I.

It is from Nectan's sainted steep
The foamy waters flash and leap:

It is where shrinking wild flowers grow,
They lave the nymph that dwells below!

II.

But wherefore, in this far off dell,
The reliques of a human cell?
Where the sad stream, and lonely wind,
Bring man no tidings of his kind!

III.

Long years agone, the old man said,
'Twas told him by his grandsire dead,
One day two ancient sisters came,

None there could tell their race or name!

IV.

Their speech was not in Cornish phrase, Their garb had marks of loftier days; Slight food they took from hands of men, They wither'd slowly in that glen!

V.

One died!-the other's shrunken eye
Gush'd, till the fount of tears was dry;
A wild and wasting thought had she,
'I shall have none to weep for me!'

VI.

They found her, silent, at the last,
Bent, in the shape wherein she pass'd;
Where her lone seat long used to stand,
Her head upon her shrivell'd hand!

VII.

Did fancy give this legend birth,
The grandame's tale for winter hearth?
Or some dead bard by Nectan's stream,
People these banks with such a dream?

VIII.

We know not: but it suits the scene,
To think such wild things here have been,
What spot more meet could grief or sin
Choose at the last to wither in!

FEBRUARY 7.

St Theodorus (Stratilates), martyred at Heraclea, 319. St Augulus, bishop of London, martyr, 4th century. St Tresain, of Ireland, 6th century. St Richard, king of the order of Camaldoli, 1027. the West Saxons, circ. 722. St Romualdo, founder of

ST ROMUALDO.

Romualdo was impelled to a religious life by seeing his father in a fit of passion commit manslaughter. Assuming the order of St Benedict, he was soon scandalised by the licentious lives generally led by his brethren, and to their refor mation he zealously devoted himself. The result was his forming a sub-order, styled from the place of its first settlement, the Camaldolesi, who, in their asceticism and habits of solemn and silent contemplation, remind us of the early Egyptian anchorets. St Romualdo, who died at an advanced age in 1027, was consequently held in great veneration, and Dante has placed him in his Paradiso, among the spirits of men contemplative.'

This admirable writer had, in her youth, the benefit of the society of Mr Bentley, the wellknown man of letters and taste in the arts, and of Mr Wedgwood, the able chemist; and she became thus early introduced to Mrs Montague, Mrs Piozzi, and the Athenian Stuart. Her maiden name was Ward, and she acquired that which made her so famous by marrying Mr William Radcliffe, a graduate at Oxford and a student at law, afterwards proprietor and editor of the English Chronicle. Her first work romance styled The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne; her second, which appeared in 1790, The Sicilian Romance, of which Sir Walter Scott, then a novel reader of no ordinary appetite, says: The scenes were inartificially connected, and the characters hastily sketched, without any attempt at individual distinction; being cast in the mould of ardent lovers, tyrannical parents, with domestic ruffians, guards, and others, who had wept or stormed through the chapters of romance, without much alteration in their family habits or features, for a quarter of a century before Mrs Radcliffe's time.' Nevertheless, 'the praise may be claimed for Mrs Radcliffe, of having been the first to introduce into her prose fictions a beautiful and fanciful tone of natural description and impressive narrative, which had hitherto been exclusively applied to poetry.'

Rhine, Mrs Radcliffe is supposed to have written her Mysteries of Udolpho, or, at least, corrected it, after the journey. For the Mysteries, Mrs Radcliffe received the then unprecedented sum of £500; for her next production, the Italian, £800. This was the last work published in her lifetime. This silence was unexplained: it was said that, in consequence of brooding over the terrors which she had depicted, her reason had been overturned, and that the author of the Mysteries of Udolpho only existed as the melancholy inmate of a private madhouse; but there was not the slightest foundation for this unpleasing rumour.

Of the author of the Mysteries of Udolpho, the unknown author of the Pursuits of Literature spoke as 'a mighty magician, bred and surrounded by the Florentine muses in their secret solitary caverns, amid the paler shrines of Gothic superstition, and in all the dreariness of enchantment.' Dr Joseph Warton, the head master of Winchester School, then at a very advanced period of life, told Robinson, the publisher, that, happening to take up the Mysteries of Udolpho, he was so fascinated that he could not go to bed until he had finished it, and that he actually sat up a great part of the night for that purpose. Mr

THE GREAT BED OF WARE.

Sheridan and Mr Fox also spoke of the Mysteries with high praise.

The great notoriety attained by Mrs Radcliffe's romances in her lifetime, made her the subject of continually recurring rumours of the most absurd and groundless character. One was to the effect that, having visited the fine old Gothic mansion of Haddon Hall, she insisted on remaining a night there, in the course of which she was inspired with all that enthusiasm for hidden passages and mouldering walls which marks her writings. The truth is, that the lady never saw Haddon Hall.

Mrs Radcliffe died in Stafford-row, Pimlico, February 7, 1823, in her fifty-ninth year; and was buried in the vault of the chapel, in the Bayswater-road, belonging to the parish of St George, Hanover-square.

THE GREAT BED OF WARE.

When Sir Toby Belch (Twelfth Night, Act iii., scene 2) wickedly urges Aguecheek to pen a challenge to his supposed rival, he tells him to put as many lies in a sheet as will lie in it, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England.' The enormous bed here

alluded to was a wonder of the age of Shakspeare, and it still exists in Ware. It is a square of 10 feet 9 inches, 7 feet 6 inches in height, very elegantly carved, and altogether a fine piece of

antique furniture. It is believed to be not older than Elizabeth's reign. It has for ages been an inn wonder, visited by multitudes, and described by many travellers. There are strange stories of