the most part farmers to gentlemen, or at the least wise artificers; and with grazing, frequenting of markets, and keeping of servants (not idle servants as the gentlemen doo, but such as get both their owne and part of their master's living), do come to great welth, that manie of them are able and doo buie the lands of unthriftie gentlemen, and often setting their sonnes to the schooles, to the Universities, and to the Ins of Court; or otherwise leaving them sufficient lands whereupon they may live without labour, doo make them by those means to become gentlemen: these were they that in times past made all France afraid; and albeit they be not called master, as Gentlemen are, or Sir, as to Knights apperteineth, but onelie John and Thomas, &c. yet have they beene found to heive doone verie good service: and the Kings of England in foughten battles, were weont to remaine among them (who were their footmen), as the French Kings did amongst their horsemen: the Prince thereby shewing where his cheefe strength did consist."

thou can."

trons. She must be watchful, diligent, witty, pleasant, constant in friendship, full of good neighbourhood," &c. Her other qualifications, he states, were to consist in an intimacy with domestic physic, with cookery, with the disti)lation of waters, the making and preserving of wines, making and dyeing of cloth, malting, brewing, baking, &c.

THE RURAL CLERGYMAN. The country clergyman, during the Catholic era, and for a considerable time afterwards, was distinguished by the appellation of Sir, a title which Shakspeare has uniformly bestowed on the inferior orders of this profession; as Sir Hugh, in "The Merry Wives of Windsor," Sir Topas, in " Twelfth Night;" Sir Oliver, in "As You Like it," &c. This custom, which was not entirely discontinued till the reign of Charles II. owes its origin to the language of our Universities, which confers the designation of Domisius on those who have taken their first degree of Bachelor of Arts, and not, as has been supposed, to any claim which the clergy had to the Order of Knighthood. Harrison, before quoted, draws the following comparison between the apparel of the clergyman in his day, and in the preceding times of Popery:

"The apparell of our clergymen," says he, "is comlie, and, in truth, more decent than ever it, was in the Popish Church, before the Universities bound their graduates unto a suitable attire, afterwards usurped also by the blind Sir Johns. For if you peruse well my Chronologie, you shall find that they went either in diverse colours, like plaiers, or in garments of light hew, shoes piked, their hair crisped, their as yellow, red, green, &c. with their girdles armed with silver, their shoes, spurres, bridles, &c. buckled with like metall; their apparell, for the most part, of silke, and richlie furred; their cappes laced and buttoned with gold; so that, to meet a priest in those daies, was to behold a peacocke that spreadeth his taile, when he danceth before

the henne."

From the character of the country clergyman, the transition is easy to

that of

THE RURAL PEDAGOGUE; OR, SCHOOLMASTER OF ANCIENT TIMES. This character frequently combined, in the sixteenth century, the reputation

of conjurer with that of schoolmaster. Pinch, one of these, is thus described in "The Comedy of Errors :"They brought one Pinch, a hungry, lean-faced villain,

A mere anatomy, a mountebank, A thread-bare juggler and a fortuneteller,

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,

A living dead man; this pernicious slave,

Forsooth, took on him as a conjuror." Ben Jonson also alludes to this union of occupation when he says, "I would have ne'er a cunning schoolmaster in England; I mean a cunning man as a schoolmaster—that is, a conjuror."

Of their incapacity, Peacham, speak

His religion is a part of his copyhold, which he takes from his landlord, and refers it wholly to his discretion; yet if he give him leave, he is a good Christian to his power, that is, comes to Church in his best clothes, and sits there with his neighbours, where he is capable of only two prayers, for rain and fair weather. His compliment with his neighbour is a good thump on the back, and his salutation commonly some blunt curse. He is à niggard all the week, except only market day, where, if his corn sell well, he thinks he may be drunk with a good conscience. For death he is never troubled, and if he get in but his harvest before; let it come when it will he cares not."

BROTHER DICK IN THE COUNTRY.

And he afterwards adds, "I had, I remember, myselfe (near St. Albans, in Hertfordshire, where I was born), a master, who, by no intreaty would teach any scholler he had, farther than his father had learned before him; as, if he had onely learnt to reade English, the sonne, though he went with him seven years, should goe no further. His reason was, they would prove saucy rogues, and controule their fathers; yet there are they that often times have our hopefull gentry under their charge and tuition, to bring them in science and civility."

THE COUNTRY BOOR.

Bishop Earle has touched this homely subject with singular point and spirit. "A plain country fellow is one that manures his ground well, but lets himself lye fallow and untilled. He has reason enough to do his business, and not enough to be idle or melancholy. He seems to have the punishment of Nebuchadnezzar, for his conversation is among beasts, and his tallons none of the shortest, only he eats not grass, because he loves not sallets. His hand guides the plough, and the plough his thoughts, and his ditch and landmark is the very mound of his meditations. He expostulates with his oxen very understandingly, and speaks gee and ree better than English.

Dear Dick.

LETTER I.

You remember that our old sarvant, Nan, used to boast that how she'd been in Lunnun, and that Lunnun bridge had beautiful shops upon it, and was a'-most a mile long. Now don't believe a word on't: for I travelled over it on a stage coach yesternight, i' the evening, and dang me if I could see a single shop, an' as for the length on't, suppose you walk acrosour straw-yard thro' the pytal to the church porch, why that he's just the distance. Well, to give you a bit of a history o' my time, since I left home. You must know that I got down at the Spread Eagle in Grase Church Street, as they call it, but didn't stop there, 'cause you know Ant Betty lives in Common Garden-so I swung my rapper over my arm, ar'd my way, and walked down Lumber Street-but just as I got by the Mansion House, where the Lord Mare lives, as you have heard father say, I was shoved down i' the gutter by some o' these here cockneys who were carrying news-papers to the Post Office-however, 'twas no use grumbling, so I was helped up by a very civil gentleman, who directed me to go straight up Cheapside, you 'ae heard father talk o' Cheapside; well, just as I was walking up Cheapside, I puts my hand in my coat pocket to fetch out my hankerchief as I thought, but these here Lunnuners had begun their tricks, for dang me if I had e'er a rag to wipe my nose with--just i' this

GO SOBER.

A late Duke of Norfolk, much attached to the bottle, one masquerade night asked Foote (who was his intimate) "What new character he should go in ? "Go sober," said Foote.

GOUTY PUN.

A gentleman meeting his friend, who had been for some time labouring under a fit of the gout, inquired after his health. His gouty friend answered "So, so." "I am sorry you are no better," replied the gentleman, "for I had hoped you had recovered in to-to."

A VERY PEREMPTORY ORDER. When the late illustrious Chevalier Taylor was enumerating the honours conferred on him by the different Princes of Europe, and orders that he had received from different kings, a gentleman present remarked that he had not named the King of Prussia, and added, "I suppose, sir, he never gave you any order." You are mistaken, sir," replied the chevalier, "he gave me a very peremptory order to quit his dominions."

NO REMEDY.

A certain lady waited on a physician, in great trouble, about her daughter; "What ails her?" said the doctor. "Alas doctor! I canot tell; but she has lost her humour, her looks, her stomach; her strength consumes every day, so as we fear she cannot live." "Why do you not marry her?" "Alas, doctor! that we would fain do, and have offered her as good a match as she could ever expect; but she will not hear of marrying." "Is there no other, do you think, that she would be content to marry?"--" Ah, doctor! that is it that troubles us; for there is a young gentleman we doubt not she loves, that her father and I can never consent to."-"Why, look you,madam," replied the doctor gravely, (being among all his books in his closet), "then the case is this; your daughter would marry one man, and you would have her marry another? in all my books I find no remedy for such a disease as this!"

TAKE BACK YOUR WREATH. Take back your wreath, your sunny wreath,

"Tis mockery to give it me! The summer's bloom, the summer's breath,

Are not what should be offered me. For though those flowers may fade and fall,

How very sweet their life has been! And fragrant still the coronal, Though dead the blush and sear the green.

They are perhaps an offering

For flowers are not made for the spring, To scatter on my funeral stone; Which only blight and blast has known.

But take some veil in darkness wove,

And fling its shadow o'er my brow, It will be like a cloud which love Has thrown around my past and

now.