nor any admitted to see him, without directions from his keeper, which they were to observe and follow in all things concerning that beast, as they will answer for the contrary at their uttermost peril.' The camels are to be daily grazed in the park, but brought back at night, with all possible precautions to screen them from the vulgar gaze. In the blessed graciousness of his majesty's disposition,' £150 was to be presented to Francisco Romano, who brought them over-though the meagre treasury was hardly able to yield up that sum, and her majesty's visit to 'the Bath' must be put off to a more convenient season, for want of money to bear her charges. Then Sir Richard Weston was commissioned by Mr Secretary Conway to estimate the annual cost of maintaining the royal quadruped, his master having decided to take the business into his own hands. He suggested economy, but does not seem to have succeeded, for the state papers for August 1623 furnish the following breefe noate what the chardges of the elephant and his keepers are in the yeare: ffeeding for the elephant at 10s. per diem, is per an.,

To the 2 Spaniards that keep him, xx". per week,

To the 2 Englishmen, his keepers, xvi. per week,

Sum per ann. in toto

£180

52

41 £275, 12s. Such is the gross amount, according to the manuscript, but not according to Cocker. Should the above be a specimen of Mr Secretary Conway's arithmetic, we can only hope his foreign policy was somewhat better than his figures. This calculation, however, by no means embraced every item of the costly bill of fare-Besides,' adds the manuscript, his keepers afirme that from the month of September until April, he must drink (not water) but wyne and from April unto September, he must have a gallon of wyne the daye.'

A pleasant time of it must this same elephant have had, with his modest winter-allowance of six bottles per diem, in exchange for the Spaniard's lenten quarters.

HENRY HALLAM.

historical works on the Middle Ages, the English Constitution, and the progress of literature in Europe, are models of research, justness of generalisation, and elegance of expression. The writer, however, always seems to sit aloof. Like many other men of letters, whose work accorded with their taste, and who were safe by fortune or frugality from the more trying cares of life, he reached a great age, being at his death, in January 1859, eighty-two years old. In one respect, he resembled Burke-he had to submit, near the close of his own life, to the loss of a son whom he held to be a youth of the highest promise, and whom he regarded with doting affection. There is scarcely a more affecting chapter in English biography, than the account of the death of the younger Hallam, when travelling for the recovery of health under his father's care, and the account of the bringing home of the corpse by the sorrow-stricken old man, himself conscious that he must soon follow him into the dark and narrow house appointed for all living.

Perhaps the most valuable service Mr Hallam has rendered to his country, was the careful view he gave it of the progress of its political system. The grand virtue of that system-its distribution of power amongst a variety of forces, which check and counterpoise each other, so that liberty and order result in strict co-ordination -has been fully asserted and held up by him. Somewhat to the surprise of the Whig party, to which he had always been attached, he deprecated the great change which they proposed in the parliamentary representation in 1831. Conversing on this subject with one of the most influential members of the cabinet, he said: 'I am a Whig, as you are a reform appears to me to be needed, but the reform you attempt is unreasonable. The object should be to perfect, not to change. To suppress certain abuses in the electoral system, and to extend the right of voting, is doubtless in conformity with the spirit of our institutions, and may be advantageous to the development of our public life; but it would be dangerous to give too large an extension to this measure. To grant universal suffrage, would be to hazard a change in the English constitution, and to disturb the harmonious working of a system which we owe to the sagacity and good-fortune of our forefathers. It is in the House of Commons that the union of the Crown, Lords, and Commons is at present effected, that their concerted action is initiated, and, in a word, the equilibrium of power tained. This equilibrium constitutes the very essence of the government of England. If the composition of the House of Commons is too essentially altered, by rendering elections too democratic, a risk is incurred of destroying this balance, and giving an irregular impulse to the state by introducing new elements. If once the principle of this bill be admitted, its consequences will extend; change will succeed to change, and the reform of one day will necessitate a fresh one the next. The government will gradually be transferred to the hustings. The representatives, elected by the democracy, will look to the quarter from which the wind of popular favour blows, in order to follow its direction; and English politics, abandoned to popular caprice, will deviate from their proper course, whilst

is main

LUNACY AND ASTRONOMY.

On the 9th of July 1787, a Dr Elliott, described in the journals of the day as one of the literati,' fired two pistols, apparently, at a lady and gentleman, while walking in Prince's Street, London. Neither, however, was injured, though both were very much frightened, and the lady's dress was singed by the closeness of the explosion. Elliott was arrested, committed to Newgate, and, a few days after, tried for an attempted murder, but acquitted on the technical point, that there was no proof of the pistols having been loaded with

ball.

Unforeseeing this decision, Elliott's friends had set up a plea of insanity, and among other witnesses in support thereof, Dr Simmons, of St Luke's hospital for lunatics, was examined. This gentleman, whose long and extensive experience in cases of insanity, gave great weight to his evidence, testified that he had been intimately acquainted with Dr Elliott for more than ten years, and fully believed him to be insane. On being further pressed by the recorder to adduce any particular instance of Elliott's insanity, the witness stated that he had lately received a letter from the prisoner on the light of the celestial bodies, which indisputably proved his aberration of mind. The letter, which had been intended by the prisoner to have been laid before the Royal Society, was then produced and read in court. The part more particularly depended upon by the witness as a proof of the insanity of the writer, was an assertion that the sun is not a body of fire, as alleged by astronomers, but its light proceeds from a dense and universal aurora, which may afford ample light to the inhabitants of the surface (of the sun) beneath, and yet be at such a distance aloft as not to annoy them.' The recorder objected to this being proof of insanity, saying that if an extravagant hypothesis were to be considered a proof of lunacy, many learned and perfectly sane astronomers might be stigmatised as madmen.

Though the defence of insanity was not received, Elliott, as already observed, was acquitted on a legal point, but the unfortunate man died in prison, of self-inflicted starvation, on the 22d of July, having resolutely refused to take any food daring the thirteen days which intervened between his arrest and death.

is

The story in itself is little more than a common newspaper report of an Old Bailey trial; but as Elliott's idea respecting the sun that held by the first astronomers of the present day, we are afforded a curious instance of a not very generally recognised fact-namely, that the madness of one century may be the wisdom of its successor; while it is not improbable that the converse of the proposition may be equally as certain, so that a great deal of what we consider wisdom now, may be

Mignet's Sketch of the Life of Mr Hallam, read before the Institut of France, Jan. 4, 1862.

SUPERSTITIONS ABOUT NEW-BORN CHILDREN.

condemned as rank folly a hundred years

hence.'

SUPERSTITIONS ABOUT NEW-BORN CHILDREN.

It is unlucky to weigh them. If you do, they will probably die, and, at anyrate, will not thrive. I have caused great concern in the mind of a worthy old monthly nurse by insisting on weighing mine. They have, however, all done very well, with the exception of one, the weighing of whom was accidentally forgotten to be performed.

The nurses always protested against the weighing, though in a timorous sort of way; saying that, no doubt it was all nonsense, but still it had better not be done.

It is not good for children to sleep upon bones-that is, upon the lap. There seems to be some sense in this notion; it is doubtless better for a child to be supported throughout its whole length, instead of hanging down its head or legs, as it might probably do if sleeping on the lap.

Hesiod, in his Works and Days, forbids children of twelve months, or twelve years old, to be placed i' have understood to mean sepulchres: if this is TO-upon things not to be moved-which some right, perhaps there is some connection between his injunction, and that which condemns the sleeping upon bones, though the modern bones are those of the living, and not of the dead.

Cats suck the breath of infants, and so kill them. This extremely unphilosophical notion of cats preferring exhausted to pure air, is frequently a cause of great annoyance to poor pussy, when, after having established herself close to baby, in a snug warm cradle, she finds herself ignominiously hustled out under suspicion of compassing the death of her quiet new acquaintance, who is not yet big enough to pull her tail.

When children first leave their mother's room, they must go upstairs before they go down-stairs, otherwise they will never rise in the world.

Of course it frequently happens that there is no upstairs,' that the mother's room is the highest in the house. In this case the difficulty is met by the nurse setting a chair, and stepping upon that with the child in her arms as she leaves the room. I have seen this done.

A mother must not go outside her own house-door till she goes to be 'churched.' Of course the principle of stances, the first use a woman should make of her this is a good one. It is right, under such circumrestored strength, should be to go to church, and thank God for her recovery; but in practice this principle sometimes degenerates into inere super

stition.

If you rock an empty cradle, you will rock a new baby into it. This is a superstition in viridi observantia, and it is quite curious to see the face of alarm with which a poor woman, with her tenth baby in her arms, will dash across a room to prevent the 'babybut-one' from engaging in such a dangerous amusement as rocking the empty cradle.

poorer

In connection with this subject, it may be mentioned that there is a widely-spread notion among the increase of the population. How the populousness of classes, that rice, as an article of food, prevents the India and China are accounted for on this theory, I cannot say; probably those who entertain it never fully realise the existence of foreign parts,' but it is certain that there was not long ago a great outcry against the giving of rice to poor people under the poor law, as it was said to be done with a purpose.

Suffolk.

C. W. J.

THE KORBAN BEIRAM.

JULY 10.

The Korban Beiram, or feast of sacrifices, is one of the greatest solemnities of the Mohammedan religion. On this day every family of the true believers offers a sheep to God, and the streets of their cities are filled with men carrying the destined victim on their backs. Among the Arabs the festival begins at the early hour of four A.M., when immense crowds collect at the residence of the nearest pacha or bey, awaiting his appearance in the court of the palace. The fanciful style of eastern costume renders the scene both original and picturesque. All the sheiks are arranged on one side: in the front stand the officers and ministers of the pacha. At five o'clock his highness, accompanied by the members of his family and his staff, makes his entrée cannon are fired, the peculiar bands of the East play airs suitable for this religious ceremony. The chief-captain of the hussars of the palace announces to the crowd, in a solemn voice, that the hour of sacrifice has arrived, and that his highness, after prayer, will be present at this important act. All then adjourn to the mosque, the body of imams or priests entering with the suite of the pacha. As soon as the sacrifice is over, the pacha re-enters the court, and seated on an elevated throne, all those of high rank have the privilege of kissing his hand; the inferiors slightly touch it with their lips. This occupies an hour, when all retire to take coffee; the captain thanking the crowd for their presence as a mark of attachment to their ruler.

Born.-John Calvin, theologian, 1509, Noyon, Picardy; John Ernest Grabe, religious controversialist, 1666, Konigsberg; Sir William Blackstone, writer on English law, 1723, Cheapside, London; Frederick Marryatt, novelist, 1792, London.

Died.-Emperor Adrian, 138; Pope Benedict VII., 983; Pope Benedict VIII., 1024; Henry II. of France, 1559; William, first Prince of Orange, assassinated at Delft, 1584; Louis Moreri (Historical and Critical Dictionary), 1680, Lyon; Francois Eudes de Mezerai, historian, 1683; Bishop Fell, 1686, Oxford; Dr Alexander Monro, professor of anatomy, 1767, Edinburgh; David Rittenhouse, astronomer, 1796, Philadelphia, U. S.

DON PANTALEON SA.

On the 10th of July 1653, Don Pantaleon Sa, a Portuguese nobleman, brother of the ambassador from that country to England, and a Knight of Malta, was beheaded on Tower Hill. The peculiar circumstances of Don Pantaleon's untimely fate, and a remarkable coincidence connected with the affair, render it not unworthy of our notice.

At that time there was, on the south side of the Strand, a kind of bazaar called the New Exchange; the buildings of the Adelphi now cover its site. It was opened in 1608 by James I., who named it 'Britain's Burse,' but in popular parlance it never received any other designation than the New Exchange. It consisted of four rows or walks two on the ground-floor, and two upstairs, each

DON PANTALEON SA.

being lined with small shops, where all kinds of fancy articles were sold. As a place to lounge in, to walk, and talk, and hear the news, as our American cousins say, the New Exchange succeeded to Paul's Walk; but, with this difference, Paul's Walk was only used by gentlemen; while the shops in the New Exchange being especially devoted to the sale of gloves, perfumes, fans, and other feminine necessities or luxuries, its walks were frequented by the gay and fashionable of both sexes. Many

scenes in our old comedies are laid in this

place; and most old libraries contain whity-brown pamphlets, entitled News from the New Exchange, or New News from the New Exchange; but as in most of these scurrility and indecency take the place of wit and humour, the less we say about them the better.

It happened that, in the November of 1652, Don Pantaleon was walking in the New Exchange, with some of his countrymen, when a quarrel arose between them and a young English gentleman of good family, named Gerrard. The cause of the quarrel, as is usual in such occurrences, was of a

most trivial kind. Mr Gerrard accused the Portuguese of speaking, in French, disparagingly of England; they, on the other hand, alleged that he rudely pushed between them, without any provocation. Whatever may have been the original cause, swords were drawn, and passes exchanged; but the good sense of a few unarmed Englishmen, who were present, stopped the fray, by separating the combatants, and hustling the Portuguese out of the Exchange, one of them with a cut cheek, leaving Gerrard slightly wounded in the shoulder. The next day, Don Pantaleon, with fifty wellarmed followers, came to the Exchange, to take

his

revenge. Fortunately, few Englishmen were there at the time, but of these, four were severely wounded by the Portuguese, and a Mr Greenway,

At first, Don Pantaleon refused to plead, claiming the immunity of an ambassador; he holding a commission to act in that high capacity, in the event of his brother's death, or absence from England. On being told that, if he did not plead he would be submitted to the press, he pleaded not guilty. A mixed jury, of Englishmen and foreigners, brought in a verdict of guilty, and the five prisoners were sentenced to be hanged on the 8th. Every effort was made, by the Portuguese and other ambassadors, to save Don Pantaleon's life, but without avail. Either to supplications or threats, Cromwell made no other reply than, 'Blood has been shed, and justice must be satisfied.' The only mercy granted to Don Pantaleon was a respite of two days, from the 8th to the 10th, and a reprieve from the disgraceful death of hanging, Don Guimarez, the ambassador, having requested that he might be permitted to kill his brother with his own sword, rather than he should be hanged.

In the meantime, while Don Pantaleon was a prisoner in Newgate, awaiting his trial, Gerrard, with whom the unhappy quarrel had arisen, becoming concerned in a plot to assassinate Cromwell, was tried and condemned to be hanged also. And in his case, too, his gentle blood and profession of arms being taken into consideration, the punishment of hanging was changed to beheading. So, as Don Pantaleon, attended by a number of his brother's followers, was being conveyed in a mourning-coach with six horses, from Newgate to the place of execution, Gerrard was expiating his crime on the same scaffold to which the other was hastening. It has been said that they met on the scaffold, but without truth, though Don Pantaleon suffered immediately after Gerrard. The three other Portuguese were pardoned, but the person described as the 'English boy, was hanged at Tyburn on the same day. The inflexible conduct of Cromwell on this occasion, gave him great credit, even among his enemies in England, for his justice; while it impressed foreign nations with a salutary sense of his power; and the case has ever since been considered as a

THE TWO COUNTESSES OF KELLIE.

precedent in all questions respecting the privileges of ambassadors.

THE TWO COUNTESSES OF KELLIE.

On this day, in the year 1781, Mr Methven Erskine, a cadet of the Kellie family, married at Edinburgh Joanna, daughter of the deceased Adam Gordon, of Ardoch, in Aberdeenshire. A brother of the gentleman, named Thomas, had, ten years before, married Anne, another daughter of Mr Gordon. These gentlemen were in the position of merchants, and there were at one time seventeen persons between them and the family titles; yet they lived to become, in succession, Earls of Kellie, being the last who enjoyed that peerage, separately from any other.*

It was by a series of very singular circumstances, hitherto unnarrated, that these two marriages came about. The facts were thus related to the writer in 1845, by a lady then upwards of ninety years of age, who had had opportunities of becoming well acquainted with all the particulars.

At Ardoch Castle-which is situated upon a tall rock overlooking the sea-the proprietor, Mr Gordon, was one evening, a little after the middle of the last century, alarmed by the firing of a gun, evidently from a vessel in distress near shore. A storm was raging, and he had every reason to fear that the vessel was about to be dashed against that iron-bound coast. Hastening down to the beach with lights and ropes, he and his servants looked in vain for the distressed vessel. Its fate was already accomplished, as the floating spars but too plainly shewed; but they looked in vain for any, dead or alive, who might have come from the wreck. At length they found a sort of crib which had been rudely cast ashore, containing, strange to say, a still live infant. The little creature, whose singular fate it had been to survive where so many stronger people perished, was carefully taken to the house and nursed. It proved to be a female child, evidently from its wrappings the offspring of persons of no mean condition, but with nothing about it to afford a trace as to who these were.

Mr Gordon made some attempts to find the relatives of this foundling, but without effect. Hoping that she in time might be claimed, he caused her to be brought up along with his own daughters, and treated in all respects as one of them. The personal graces and amiable character of the child in time made him feel towards her as if she had actually stood in that relation to him. When she had attained to womanhood, a storm similar to that already spoken of occurred. An alarm-gun was fired, and Mr Gordon, as was his wont, hurried down to the beach, but this time to receive a shipwrecked party, whom he immediately conducted to his house, and treated with his characteristic kindness. Amongst them was one gentlemanpassenger, whom he took into his own parlour, and entertained at supper. After a comfortable night spent in the castle, this stranger was surprised at breakfast by the entrance of a troop of blooming young ladies, the daughters of his host, as he understood, but one of whom attracted his attention in a special manner. 'Is this young lady your daughter too?' he inquired of Mr Gordon. No,' replied his

*The title, in 1829, fell to the head of the Erskine family, John Francis, present Earl of Marr.

DRESS OF A LADY OF FASHION

And

host; but she is as dear to me as if she were.' he then related her story. The stranger listened with increasing emotion, and at the close of the narration, said he had reason to believe that the young lady was his own niece. He then related the circumstances of a sister's return from India, corresponding to the time of the shipwreck, and explained how it might happen that Mr Gordon's inquiries for her relations had failed. 'She is now,' said he, 'an orphan; but, if I am not mistaken in my supposition, she is entitled to a handsome provision which her father bequeathed to her in the hope of her yet being found.'

Ere long, sufficient evidence was afforded to make it certain that the gentleman had really, by the strange accident of the shipwreck, found his long missing niece. It became necessary, of course, that she should pass under his care, and leave Ardoch-a bitter necessity to her, as it inferred a parting with so many friends dear to her. To mitigate the anguish of this separation, it was arranged that one of her so-called sisters, the Misses Gordon, should accompany her. Their destination was Gottenburg, where the uncle had long been settled as a merchant. Here closes all that was romantic in the history of the foundling, but there was to be a sequel of that nature in favour of Mr Gordon's children. Amongst the Scotch merchants settled in the Swedish port, was Mr Thomas Erskine, a younger son of a younger brother of Sir William Erskine of Cambo, in Fife, an offshoot of the family of the Earl of Kellie. To him was Miss Anne Gordon of Ardoch married in 1771. A younger brother, named Methven, who had pursued merchandise in Bengal, ten years later, married a sister of Miss Gordon, as has been stated. No one then dreamed that these gentlemen would ever come near to the peerage of their family; but in 1797 the baronet of Cambo became Earl of Kellie, and two years later, the title lighted on the shoulders of the husband of Anne Gordon. short, these two daughters of Mr Gordon of Ardoch, became, in succession, Countesses of Kellie in consequence of the incident of the shipwrecked foundling, whom their father's humanity had rescued from the waves, and for whom an owner had so unexpectedly been found.

DRESS OF A LADY OF FASHION IN THE

SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.

In

In a dramatic pastoral, entitled Rhodon and Iris, first acted at Norwich in 1631, we find the following list of the dress, ornaments, and toilet requisites of a fashionable lady of the period.

Chains, coronets, pendants, bracelets, and earrings;
Pins, girdles, spangles, embroideries, and rings;
Shadows, rebatoes, ribbands, ruffs, cuffs, falls,
Scarfs, feathers, fans, masks, muffs, laces, cauls,
Thin tiffanies, cobweb lawn, and farthingales,
Sweet falls, veils, wimples, glasses, crisping-pins,
Pots of ointment, combs, with poking sticks, and
bodkins,

Coifs, gorgets, fringes, rolls, fillets, and hair-laces,
Silks, damasks, velvets, tinsels, cloth of gold,
Of tissues, with colours of a hundred fold.
But in her tires so new-fangled is she,
That which doth with her humour now agree,
To-morrow she dislikes. Now doth she swear
That a loose body is the neatest wear;

train,

IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
But, ere an hour be gone, she will protest,
A strait gown graces her proportion best;
Now calls she for a boisterous farthingale,
Then to her haunch she 'll have her garments fall;
Now doth she praise a sleeve that 's long and wide,
Yet by and by that fashion doth deride;
Sometimes, she applauds a pavement-sweeping
And presently dispraiseth it again;
Now she commends a shallow band so small,
That it may seem scarce any band at all;
But soon to a new fancy she doth reel,
And calls for one as big as a coach-wheel.
She'll wear a flowing coronet to-day,
The symbol of her beauty's sad decay;
To-morrow, she a waving plume will try,
The emblem of all female levity,

Now in her hat, now in her hair is drest;
Now, of all fashions, she thinks change the best,
Nor in her weeds alone, is she so nice,
But rich perfumes she buys at any price;
Storax and spikenard, she burns in her chamber,
And daubs herself with civet, musk, and amber.