flicted and unsuccessful; frequently struggling with penury, and sometimes with oppression. His irritability subjected him to numerous mortifications, and inflicted on him many pangs unknown to minds of less feeling or less delicacy.

Mr. Nichols, in his "Literary Anecdotes," gives a letter he received from Mr. Tasker, dated from Iddesleigh, in December, 1798, wherein he says, "I continue in very ill health, and confined in my dreary situation at Starvation Hall, forty miles below Exeter, out of the verge of literature, and where even your extensive magazine [The Gentleman's'] has never yet reached." The works he put forth from his solitude procured him no advancement in the church, and, in the agony of an excruciating complaint, he departed from a world insensible to his merits: his widow essayed the publication of his works by subscription withont effect. Such was the fate of an erudite and deserving parish priest, whose right estimation of honourable independence barred him from stooping to the meanness of flattery; he preserved his self-respect, and died without preferment, and in poverty.

A CHARACTER.

The Old Lady.

If the Old Lady is a widow and lives alone, the manners of her condition and time of life are so much the more apparent. She generally dresses in plain silks that make a gentle rustling as she moves about the silence of her room; and she wears a nice cap with a lace border that comes under the chin. In a placket at her side is an old enamelled watch, unless it is locked up in a drawer of her toilet for fear of accidents. Her waist is rather tight and trim than otherwise, as she had a fine one when young; and she is not sorry if you see a pair of her stockings on a table, that you may be aware of the neatness of her leg and foot. Contented with these and other evident indications of a good shape, and letting her young friends understand that she can afford to obscure it a little, she wears pockets, and uses them well too. In the one is her handkerchief, and any heavier matter that is not likely to come out with it, such as the change of a sixpence ;-in the other is a miscellaneous assortment, consisting of a pocket-book, a bunch of keys, a needlecase, a spectacle-case, crumbs of biscuit,

a nutmeg and grater, a smelling-bottle, and according to the season, an orange or apple, which, after many days, she draws out, warm and glossy, to give to some little child that has well behaved itself. She generally occupies two rooms, in the neatest condition possible. In the chamber is a bed with a white coverlet, built up high and round to look well, and with curtains of a pastoral pattern, consisting alternately of large plants, and shepherds and shepherdesses. On the mantlepiece also are more shepherds and shepherdesses, with dot-eyed sheep at their feet, all in coloured ware, the man perhaps in a pink jacket and knots of ribbons at his knees and shoes, holding his crook lightly in one hand, and with the other at his breast turning his toes out and looking tenderly at the shepherdess:

the woman, holding a crook also, and modestly returning his look, with a gipsy-hat jerked up behind, a very slender waist, with petticoat and hips to counteract, and the petticoat pulled up through the pocket-holes in order to show the trimness of her ancles. But these patterns, of course, are various. The toilet is ancient, carved at the edges, and tied about with a snow-white drapery of muslin. Beside it are various boxes, mostly japan: and the set of drawers are exquisite things for a little girl to rummage, if ever little girl be so bold,-containing ribbons and laces of various kinds,-linen smelling of lavender, of the flowers of which there is always dust in the corners, a heap of pocket-books for a series of years,-and pieces of dress long gone by, such as head-fronts, stomachers, and flowered satin shoes with enormous heels. The stock of letters are always under especial lock and key. So much for the bed-room. In the sitting-room, is rather a spare assortment of shining old mahogany furniture, or carved arm-chairs equally old, with chintz draperies down to the ground, a folding or other screen with Chinese figures, their round, little-eyed, meek faces perking sidewise; a stuffed bird perhaps in a glass case (a living one is too much for her;)a portrait of her husband over the mantlepiece, in a coat with frog-buttons, and a delicate frilled hand lightly inserted in the waistcoat :-and opposite him, on the wall, is a piece of embroidered literature, framed and glazed, containing some moral distich or maxim worked in angular capital letters, with two trees or parrots below in their proper colours, the whole con

cluding with an ABC and numerals, and the name of the fair industrious, expressing it to be "her work, Jan. 14, 1762.” The rest of the furniture consists of a looking-glass with carved edges, perhaps a settee, a hassock for the feet, a mat for the little dog, and a small set of shelves, in which are the Spectator and Guardian, the Turkish Spy, a Bible and Prayer-book, Young's Night-Thoughts, with a piece of lace in it to flatten, Mrs. Rowe's Devout Exercises of the Heart, Mrs. Glasse's Cookery, and perhaps Sir Charles Grandison, and Clarissa. John Buncle is in the closet among the pickles and preserves. The clock is on the landing-place between the two room-doors, where it ticks audibly but quietly; and the landing-place, as well as the stairs, is carpeted to a nicety. The house is most in character, and properly coeval, if it is in a retired suburb, and strongly built, with wainscot rather than paper inside, and lockers in the windows. Before the windows also should be some quivering poplars. Here the Old Lady receives a few quiet visitors to tea and perhaps an early game at cards; or you may sometimes see her going out on the same kind of visit herself, with a light umbrella turning up into a stick and crooked ivory handle, and her little dog equally famous for his love to her and captious antipathy to strangers. Her grandchildren dislike him on holidays; and the boldest sometimes ventures to give him a sly kick under the table. When she returns at night, she appears, if the weather happens to be doubtful, in a calash; and her servant, in pattens, follows half behind and half at her side, with a lantern.

Her opinions are not many, nor new. She thinks the clergyman a nice man. The duke of Wellington, in her opinion, is a very great man; but she has a secret preference for the marquis of Granby. She thinks the young women of the present day too forward, and the men not respectful enough: but hopes her grandchildren will be better; though she differs with her daughter in several points respecting their management.

She sets little value on the new accomplishments: is a great though delicate connoisseur in butcher's meat and all sorts of housewifery and if you mention waltzes, expatiates on the grace and fine breeding of the minuet. She longs to have seen one danced by sir Charles Grandison, whom she almost considers as a real person. She

:

likes a walk of a summer's evening, but avoids the new streets, canals, &c. and sometimes goes through the church-yard where her other children and her husband lie buried, serious, but not melancholy. She has had three great æras in her life,her marriage, her having been at court to see the king, queen, and royal family,and a compliment on her figure she once received in passing from Mr. Wilkes, whom she describes as a sad loose man, but engaging. His plainness she thinks much exaggerated. If any thing takes her at a distance from home, it is still the court; but she seldom stirs even for that. The last time but one that she went was to see the duke of Wirtemberg: and she has lately been, most probably for the last time of all, to see the princess Charlotte and prince Leopold. From this beatific vision, she returned with the same admiration as ever for the fine comely appearance of the duke of York and the rest of the family, and great delight at having had a near view of the princess, whom she speaks of with smiling pomp and lifted mittens, clasping them as passionately as she can together, and calling her, in a sort of transport of mixed loyalty and self-love, a fine royal young creature, and daughter of England.-Indicator.

The Season.

Sudden storms of short duration, the last blusters of expiring winter, frequently occur during the early part of the present month. These gales and gusts are mostly noticed by mariners, who expect them, and therefore keep a good "look out for squalls." The observations of seamen upon the clouds, and of husbandmen on the natural appearances of the weather generally, would form an exceedingly curious and useful compendium of meteorological facts.

Stilling the Sea with Oil.

Dr. Franklin suggests the pouring of oil on the sea to still the waves in a storm, but, before he lived, Martin wrote

an

"Account of the Western Islands of Scotland," wherein he says, "The steward of Kilda, who lives in Pabbay, is accustomed in time of a storm to tie a bundle of puddings, made of the fat of sea-fowl, to the end of his cable, and lets it fall into the sea behind the rudder; this, he says, hinders the waves from breaking, and calms the sea; but the scent of the grease attracts the whales, which put the vessel in danger."

On the 5th of February, 1760, Dr. Browne Willis died at Whaddon hall, in the county of Bucks, aged 78; he was born at St. Mary Blandford, in the county of Dorset, on the 14th of September, 1682. He was unexcelled in eagerness of inquiry concerning our national antiquities, and his life was devoted to their study and arrangement. Some interest ing particulars concerning the published labours and domestic habits of this distinguished individual, wil! be given in a subsequent sheet, with one of his letters, not before printed, accompanied by a facsimile of his handwriting.

The Season and Smoking.

At this time, Dr. Forster says that people should guard against colds, and, and other fevers, which are apt to prevail above all, against the contagion of typhus in the early spring. "Smoking tobacco," he observes, "is a very salutary practice in general, as well as being a preventive against infection in particular. The German pipes are the best, and get better as they are used, particularly those made of merschaum, called Ecume de Mer. Next to these, the Turkey pipes, with long tubes, are to be recommended; but these are fitter for summer smoking, under the shade of trees, than for the fireside. The best tobacco is the Turkey, the Persian, and what is called Dutch canaster. Smoking is a custom which should be recommended in the close cottages of the poor, and in great populous towns liable to contagion.

On the virtues of tobacco its users enhance with mighty eloquence, and puff it bravely.

In praise of Tobacco.

Much food doth gluttony procure to feed men fat like swine, But he's a frugal man indeed

who on a leaf can dine.

He needs no napkin for his hands, his finger ends to wipe, Who has his kitchen in a box, his roast-meat in a pipe.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR. Mean Temperature ... 39. 47.

February 7.

1826.-SHROVE TUESDAY.

Several of the customs and sports of this day are related in vol i. p. 242-261. It is the last meat day permitted by the papacy before Lent, which commences to-morrow, and therefore in former times, full advantage was taken of the expiring opportunity to feast and make merry. Selden observes, "that what the church debars us one day, she gives us leave to eat another-first, there is a carnival, and then a Lent." This period is also recorded in the homely rhymes of Barnaby Googe.

Shrove-tide. Now when at length the pleasant time of Shrove-tide comes in place,

And cruell fasting dayes at hand

approach with solemne grace.

Then olde and yong are both as mad,
as ghestes of Bacchus' feast,
And foure dayes long they tipple square,
and feede and never reast.

Downe goes the hogges in every place,
and puddings every where

Do swarme: the dice are shakte and tost, and cardes apace they teare: In every house are showtes and cryes, and mirth, and revell route,

And daintie tables spred, and all

be set with ghestes aboute:

With sundrie playes and Christmasse games, and feare and shame away,

The tongue is set at libertie,

and hath no kinde of stay.

Naogeorgus.

The Great Seal in Danger. February 7, 1677, about one in the morning, the lord chancellor Finch's mace was stolen out of his house in Queen-street; the seal laid under his pillow, so the thief missed it. The famous thief that did it was Thomas Sadler, he was soon after taken, and hanged for it at Tyburn on the 16th of March.*

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR. Mean Temperature... 37 37.

February 8.

1826.-ASH WEDNESDAY,

The First Day of Lent.

To the particulars concerning this day, and the ashes, (in vol. i. p. 261,) is to be added,that the ashes, made of the branches of brushwood, properly cleansed, sifted, and consecrated, were worn four times a year, as at the beginning of Lent; and that on this day the people were excluded from church, husbands and wives parted bed, and the penitents wore sackcloth and ashes.t

According to the Benedictine rule, on Ash Wednesday, after sext, the monks were to return to the cloister to converse; but, at the ringing of a bell, be instantly silent. They were to unshoe themselves, wash their hands, and go to church, and make one common prayer. Then was to follow a religious service; after which the priest, having consecrated the ashes, and sprinkled holy water on them, was to

* Life of Ant. a Wood.
† Fosbroke's British Monachism.

PORTER Defendant.

The Court being met, the indictment was read, which we omit, for sake of brevity.

Court. Prisoner, hold up your paw at the bar.

First Counsel. He is sullen, and refuses.

Court. Is he so? Why then let the constable hold it up, nolens volens. [Which was done, according to order.] Court. What is the prisoner's name? Constable. P-P-Po-rt-er, an't please your worship.

Court. What does the fellow say? Constable. Porter! an't please you; Porter!

Fosbroke's British Monachism. + Ibid. Printed for T. Lowndes, 1771. 8vo.