actor, and accidentally wounding a brothercomedian with a real sword, which he mistook for a foil, he forsook the stage, being then only seventeen years old. He accompanied the actor Wilks to London, and there attracted the notice of the Earl of Orrery, who gave him a commission in his own regiment. Wilks persuaded him to try his powers as a dramatist, and his first comedy, Love and a Bottle, produced in 1798, was very successful. In 1703, he adapted Beaumont and Fletcher's Wildgoose Chase, under the title of The Inconstant, which became popular. Young Mirabel in this play was one of Charles Kemble's most finished performances. Farquhar was married to a lady who deceived him as to her fortune; he fell into great difficulties, and was obliged to sell his commission; he sunk a victim to consumption and over-exertion, and died, in his thirtieth year, leaving two helpless girls; one married a low tradesman,' the other became a servant, and the mother died in poverty. Our dramatist has laid the scene of two of his best comedies at Lichfield. He has drawn from his experience as a soldier the incidents of his Recruiting Officer, produced in 1706, and of his Beaux Stratagem, written during his last illness. One of his recruiting scenes is a street at Lichfield, where Kite places one of his raw recruits to watch the motion of St Mary's clock, and another the motion of St Chad's. We all remember in the Beaux' Stratagem the eloquent jollity of Boniface upon his Lichfield Anno Domini 1706 ale.' The Dean's Walk' is the avenue described by Farquhar as leading to the house of Lady Bountiful, and in which Aimwell pretends to faint. The following amusing anecdote is also told of Farquhar at Lichfield. It was at the top of Market-street, that hastily entering a barber's shop, he desired to be shaved, which operation was immediately performed by a little deformed man, the supposed master of the shop. Dining the same day at the table of Sir Theophilus Biddulph, Farquhar was observed to look with particular earnestness at a gentleman who sat opposite to him; and taking an opportunity of following Sir Theophilus out of the room, he demanded an explanation of his conduct, as he deemed it an insult to be seated with such inferior company. Sir Theophilus, amazed at the charge, assured the captain the company were every one gentlemen, and his own particular friends. This, however, would not satisfy Farquhar; he was, he said, certain that the little humpbacked man who sat opposite to him at dinner was a barber, and had that very morning shaved him. Unable to convince the captain of the contrary, the baronet returned to the company, and stating the strange assertion of Farquhar, the mystery was elucidated, and the gentleman owned having, for joke's sake, as no other person was in the shop, performed the office of terror to the captain. SIR HENRY R. BISHOP. 'In every house where music, more especially vocal music, is welcome, the name of Bishop has long been, and must long remain, a household THE QUARTER-STAFF. en word. Who has not been soothed by the sweet melody of "Blow, gentle gales;" charmed by the measures of "Lo! here the gentle lark;" livened by the animated strains of "Foresters, sound the cheerful horn;" touched by the sadder music of "The winds whistle cold." Who has not been haunted by the insinuating tones of "Tell me, my heart;""Under the greenwood tree;" or, "Where the wind blows," which Rossini, the minstrel of the south, loved so well? Who has not felt sympathy with QUARTER-STAFF, SHERWOOD FOREST. it be worthy of such a term-perhaps we should content ourselves with calling it implementwas a tough piece of wood, of about eight feet long, not of great weight, which the practitioner grasped in the middle with one hand, while with the other he kept a loose hold midway between the middle and one end. An adept in the use of the staff might be, to one less skilled, a formidable opponent. GLASTONBURY WATERS. THE BOOK OF DAYS. Dryden speaks of the use of the quarter-staff in a manner which would imply that in his time, when not in use, the weapon was hung upon the back, for he says 'His quarter-staff, which he could ne'er forsake, Hung half before and half behind his back.' HISTORY OF SILK STOCKINGS. accordingly did and was well, and attested it on oath. This being rumoured abroad, it brought numbers of people from all parts of the kingdom to drink of these miraculous waters for various distempers, and many were healed, and great numbers received benefit.' computed 10,000 people were now at GlastonFive days after, Mr Gough added: 'Twas bury, from different parts of the kingdom, to drink the waters there for various distempers. Bacon speaks of the use of cudgels by the captains of the Roman armies; but it is very questionable whether these cudgels partook of the character of the quarter-staff. Most persons will remember how often bouts at quarter-staff could not last long. Southey preserves to us in Of course, a therapeutical system of this kind occur in the ballads descriptive of the adventures his Common-place Book a curious example of of Robin Hood and Little John. Thus, in the encounter of Robin with the tanner, Arthur-a-formance of Hamlet at the Drury Lane Theatre, A young man, witnessing the per Bland: Then Robin he unbuckled his belt, "But let me measure," said jolly Robin, "Before we begin our fray; For I'll not have mine to be longer than thine, For that will be counted foul play." "I pass not for length," bold Arthur replied, "My staff is of oak so free; Eight foot and a half it will knock down a calf, Then Robin could no longer forbear, About and about and about they went, And knock for knock they hastily dealt, They plied their work so sore.' In the last century games or matches at cudgels were of frequent occurrence, and public subscriptions were entered into for the purpose of finding the necessary funds to provide prizes. We have in our possession the original subscription list for one of these cudgel matches, which was played for on the 30th of April 1748, at Shrivenham, in the county of Berks, the patrons on that occasion being Lord Barrington, the Hons. Daniel and Samuel Barrington, Witherington Morris, Esq., &c. The amount to be distributed in prizes was a little over five pounds. We find now-a-days pugilists engage in a much more brutal and less scientific display for a far less sum. The game appears to have almost gone out of use in England, although we occasionally hear of its introduction into some of our public schools. WONDERS OF THE GLASTONBURY WATERS. Under the 30th April 1751, Richard Gough enters in his diary- At Glastonbury, Somerset, a man thirty years afflicted with an asthma, dreamed that a person told him, if he drank of such particular waters, near the Chain-gate, seven Sunday mornings, he should be cured, which he the cases. was so frightened at sight of the ghost, that a humour broke out upon him, which settled in the king's evil. After all medicines had failed, he came to these waters, and they effected a thorough cure. Faith healed the ailment which fear had produced. The last of April may be said to have in it a tint of the coming May. The boys, wisely provident of what was to be required to-morrow, went out on this day to seek for trees from which they might obtain their proper supplies of the May blossom. Dryden remarks the vigil or eve of May day: 'Waked, as her custom was, before the day, EARLY HISTORY OF SILK STOCKINGS. April 30th 1560. Sir Thomas Gresham writes from Antwerp to Sir William Cecil, Elizabeth's great minister, I have written into Spain for silk hose both for you and my lady, your wife; to whom it may please you I may be remembered. These silk hose, of black colour, were accordingly soon after sent by Gresham to Cecil.† Hose were, up to the time of Henry VIII, made out of ordinary cloth: the king's own were formed of yard-wide taffata. It was only by chance that he might obtain a pair of silk hose from Spain. His son Edward VI. received as a present from Sir Thomas Gresham-Stow speaks of it as a great present— a pair of long Spanish silk stockings.' For some years longer, silk stockings continued to be a great rarity. In the second year of Queen Elizabeth," says Stow, 'her silk woman, Mistress Montague, presented her Majesty with a pair of black knit silk stockings for a new-year's gift; the which, after a few days wearing, pleased her Highness so well that she sent for Mistress Montague, and asked her where she had them, and if she could help her to any more; who answered, saying, "I made them very carefully, of purpose only for your Majesty, and seeing these please you so well, I will presently set more in hand." "Do so," quoth the Queen, "for indeed I like silk stockings so well, because they are pleasant, fine, and delicate, that henceforth I will wear no more cloth stockings." And from that time to her death the Queen never wore cloth hose, but only silk stock ings.' + SPENSER. for the flowers to play at hide-and-seek among, as they are chased by the wind. The grass also gives a softness to the dazzling white of the daisies and the glittering gold of the buttercups, which, but for this soft bordering of green, would almost be too lustrous to look upon. We hear the song of the milkmaid in the early morning, and catch glimpses of the white milkpail she balances on her head between the openings in the hedgerows, or watch her as she paces through the fields, with her gown drawn through the pockethole of her quilted petticoat, to prevent it draggling in the dew. We see the dim figure of THE BOOK OF DAYS, the angler, clad in grey, moving through the largely. What a commotion a bee must make white mist that still lingers beside the river. among those tiny dwellers in the golden courts The early school-boy, who has a long way to go, of stamens and pistils, as its great eyes come loiters, and lays down his books to peep under peeping down into the very bottom of the calyxalmost every hedge and bush he passes, in quest the foundation of their flowery tower. Then, as of birds' nests. The village girl, sent on some we walk along, we remember that in those morning errand, with the curtain of her cotton- undated histories called the Welsh triads-which covered bonnet hanging down her neck, buttons were oral traditions ages before the Romans up' her little eyes to look at us, as she faces the landed on our shores-England was called the sun, or shades her forehead with her hand, as she | Island of Honey by its first discoverers, and watches the skylark soaring and singing on its that there was a pleasant murmur of bees in our way to the great silver pavilion of clouds that primeval forests long before a human sound had stands amid the blue plains of heaven, We see disturbed their silence. But, beyond all other the progress spring has made in the cottage objects that please the eye with their beauty, gardens which we pass, for the broad-leaved and delight the sense with their fragrance, stand rhubarb has now grown tall; the radishes are the May-buds, only seen in perfection at the end rough-leaved; the young onions show like strong of this pleasant month, or a few brief days grass; the rows of spinach are ready to cut, beyond. All our old poets have done reverence peas and young potatoes are hoed up, and the to the milk-white scented blossoms of the hawgooseberries and currants show like green beads thorn-the May of poetry-which throws an on the bushes, while the cabbages, to the great undying fragrance over their pages; nor does joy of the cottagers, are beginning to 'heart.' any country in the world present so beautiful a The fields and woods now ring with incessant sight as our long leagues of English hedgerows sounds all day long; from out the sky comes the sheeted with May blossoms. We see it in the loud cawing of the rook as it passes overhead, cottage windows, the fireless grates of clean sometimes startling us by its sudden cry, when country parlours are ornamented with it, and flying so low we can trace its moving shadow rarely does anyone return home without over the grass. We hear the cooing of ringdoves, bringing back a branch of May, for there is an and when they cease for a few moments, the old household aroma in its bloom which has pause is filled up by the singing of so many been familiar to them from childhood, and which birds, that only a practised ear is enabled to they love to inhale better than any other that distinguish one from the other; then comes the floats around their breezy homesteads. The reclear, bell-like note of the cuckoo, high above all, freshing smell of May-buds after a shower is a followed by the shriek of the beautifully marked delight never to be forgotten; and, for aught we jay, until it is drowned in the louder cry of the know to the contrary, birds may, like us, enjoy woodpecker, which some naturalists have com- this delicious perfume, and we have fancied that pared to a laugh, as if the bird were a cynic, this is why they prefer building their nests and making a mockery of the whole of this grand, rearing their young among the May blossoms. wild concert. In the rich green pastures there The red May, which is a common ornament of are sounds of pleasant life: the bleating of sheep, pleasure-grounds, derives its ruddy hue from and the musical jingling of their bells, as they having grown in a deep red clayey soil, and is move along to some fresh patch of tempting not, we fancy, so fragrant as the white hawthorn, herbage; the lowing of full-uddered cows, that nor so beautiful as the pale pink May, which is morning and night brim the milkpails, and make coloured like the maiden blush rose. It is in the much extra labour in the dairy, where the rosy- dew they shake from the pink May that our cheeked maidens sing merrily over their pleasant simple country maidens love to bathe their faces, work. We see the great farm-house in the centre believing that it will give them the complexion of the rich milk-yielding meadows, and think of of the warm pearly May blossoms, which they cooling curds and whey, luscious cheesecakes and call the Lady May. What a refreshing showercustards, cream that you might cut, and straw-bath, when well shaken, a large hawthorn, heavy berries growing in rows before the beehives in the garden, and we go along licking our lips at the fancied taste, and thinking how these pleasant dainties lose all their fine country flavour when brought into our smoky cities, while here they seem as if with dew, and covered with bloom, would make! The nightingale comes with its sweet music to usher in this month of flowers, and it is now generally believed that the male is the first that makes its appearance in England, and that his song increases in sweetness as the expected arrival of the female draws nearer. Nor will he shift his place, but continues to sing about the spot where he is first heard, and where she is sure to find him when she comes. We have no doubt these birds understand one another, and that the female finds her mate by his song, which was familiar to her before her arrival, and that she can distinguish his voice from all others. Could the nightingales which are said to be seen together in the countries to which they migrate be caught and marked before they return to England, this might be proved. One bird will answer another, taking up the MAY-DESCRIPTIVE. song where the first ceases, when they are far beyond our power of hearing, as has been proved by persons placed midway, and close to the rival songsters, who have timed the intervals between, and found that, to a second, one bird began the instant the other was silent; though the distance between was too far apart for human ears to catch a note of the bird farthest from the listener, the hands which marked the seconds on the watches showed that one bird had never begun to sing until the other had ended. You may throw a stone among the foliage where the nightingale is singing, and it will only cease for a few moments, and move away a few feet, then resume its song. At the end of this month, or early in June, its nest, which is generally formed of old oak leaves, may be found, lined only with grass-a poor home for so sweet a singer, and not unlike that in which many of our sweetest poets were first cradled. As soon as the young are hatched the male ceases to sing, losing his voice, and making only a disagreeable croaking noise when danger is near, instead of giving utterance to the same sweet song How enraptured must good old Izaak Walton have been with the song of the nightingale, when he exclaimed, Lord, what music hast Thou provided for the saints in heaven, when Thou affordest bad men such music on earth.' Butterflies are now darting about in every direction, here seeming to play with one another -a dozen together in places-there resting with folded wings on some flower, then setting off in that zig-zag flight which enables them to escape their pursuers, as few birds can turn sudden enough, when on the wing, to capture them. What is that liquid nourishment, we often wonder, which they suck up through their tiny probosces; is it dew, or the honey of flowers? Examine the exquisite scales of their wings through a glass, and then you will say that, poetical as many of the names are by which they are known, they are not equal to the beauty they attempt to designate. Rose-shaded, damask-dyed, garden-carpet, violet-spotted, green-veined, and many another name beside, conveys no notion of the jewels of gold and silver, and richly-coloured precious stones, set in the forms of the most beautiful flowers, which adorn their wings, heads, and the under part of their bodies, some portions of which appear like plumes of the gaudiest feathers. Our old poet Spenser calls the butterfly Lord of all the works of Nature,' who reigns over the air and earth, and feeds on flowers, taking 'Whatever thing doth please the eye.' What a poor name is Red Admiral for that beautiful and well-known butterfly which may be driven out of almost any bed of nettles, and is richly banded with black, scarlet, and blue! Very few of these short-lived beauties survive the winter; such as do, come out with a sad, tattered appearance on the following spring, and with all their rich colours faded. By the end of this month most of the trees will have donned their new attire, nor will they ever appear more beautiful than now, for the foliage. of summer is darker; the delicate spring-green is gone by the end of June, and the leaves then no longer look fresh and new. Nor is the foliage as yet dense enough to hide the traces of the branches, which, like graceful maidens, still show their shapes through their slender attire-a beauty that will be lost when they attain the full-bourgeoned matronliness of summer. But trees are rarely to be seen to perfection in woods or forests, unless it be here and there one or two standing in some open space, for in these places they are generally too crowded together. When near, if not over close, they show best in some noble avenue, especially if each tree has plenty of room to stretch out its arms, without too closely elbowing its neighbour; then a good many together can be taken in by the eye at once, from the root to the highest spray, and grand do they look as the aisle of some noble cathedral. In clumps they are beautiful exceedingly,' scattered as it were at random, when no separate branch is seen, but all the foliage is massed together like one immense tree, resting on its background of sky. Even on level ground a clump of trees has a pleasing appearance, for the lower branches blend harmoniously with the grass, while the blue air seems to float about the upper portions like a transparent veil. Here, too, we see such colours as only a few of our first-rate artists succeed in imitating; the sunshine that falls golden here, and deepens into amber there, touched with bronze, then the dark green, almost black in the shade, with dashes of purple and emerald-green as the first sward of We have often fancied, when showery April. standing on some eminence that overlooked a wide stretch of woodland, we have seen such terraces along the sweeps of foliage as were too beautiful for anything excepting angels to walk upon. While thus walking and musing through the fields and woods at this pleasant season of the year, a contented and imaginative man can readily fancy that all these quiet paths and delightful prospects were made for him, or that he is a principal shareholder in Nature's great freehold. He stops in winter to see the hedger and ditcher at work, or to look at the men repairing the road, and it gives him as much pleasure to see the unsightly gap filled up with young quicksets,' the ditch embankment repaired, and the hole in the high road made sound, as it does the wealthy owner of the estate, who has to pay the men thus employed for their labour. And when he passes that way again, he stops to see how much the quicksets have grown, or whether the patch on the embankment is covered with grass and wild flowers, or if the repaired hollow in the road is sound, and has stood the drying winds of March, the heavy rains of April, and is glad to find it standing level and hard in the sunshine of May. If it is a large enclosed park, and the proprietor has put up warnings that within there are steel traps, spring guns, and 'most biting laws' for trespassers, still the contented wanderer is sure to find some gentle eminence that over |