My love lies dead In death's cold bed, All under the willow tree.

"I appeal to my readers," says the author I have before quoted, "if the cast of thought, sentiments, and structure of these and other passages I could produce, are antient; I am grossly mistaken if they are not exactly the poetry of modern times, thinly and ineffectually disguised in obsolete spelling and antique words.

"Chatterton, from his childhood, was fond of reading and scribbling, and many pieces which he produced before he was fifteen years old, without any motive or interest that could induce him to deceive, were considered as surprizing productions; the periodic publications to which he contributed, exhibit a number of similar pieces, acknow. ledged by himself to be his own, equal in brilliancy and smoothness, and the majority of them pretending to be effusions of and descriptions of remote times.

"Persons in the habit of reading the works of our old poets must have observed, that their great characteristic is inequality; animated descriptions, splendid similes, poetical images, and striking thoughts, do not

often occur, and when they do, are always succeeded by long, tedious, prosaic, and uninteresting passages; the poems áttributed to Rowlie on the contrary are every where well supported, they never exhibit dullness or insipidity in style or sentiment.

"In the BATTLE OF HASTINGS, said to be translated from the Saxon of Turgot, who died fifty years before it was fought; a writer who lived at the time would have related some circumstance not generally known, his narrative would have been minute and circumstantial; but the description in the piece produced by Chatterton is general, and the management probably taken from Pope's Homer.

"This piece would have detected itself, if Chatterton had not, as I find he did, owned that the first part was spurious; he who could perform the first part of this forgery, proved himself fully able to write every line in the whole collection.

"It has been triumphantly remarked by the supporters of the authenticity of Rowlie's poems, that the names of the chiefs who fought in this battle correspond with the roll of Battle Abbey; they seem to forget that this record is copied in Hollingsheed's Chronicle, which we know Chatterton had perused.

"To

"To conclude, it may be observed, that the qualifications of the Bristol artist for the task he undertook, and his inducements to forge, naturally arose from his character and the mode of life he adopted; he was an adventurer full of project and invention, professedly engaging in the business of literature to get money, and compelled to subsist by expedients.

"From what he had seen and heard, he must have been fully aware that any genuine remains of English poetry rescued from long oblivion, would be received with fond enthusiasm and strong interest, and secure a profitable sale; but although we are deprived of some pleasure by the force of irresistible conviction, the solid satisfaction remains of having detected and guarded the public against artifice and imposture."

This satisfaction it must be confessed is considerably diminished by the regret every humane person must feel for talents so perverted, powers so misapplied, and the untimely fate of the juvenile fabricator, who, patronized and supported, might have reflected honour on his country, and have been a comfort to his aged parent.

cated at St. John's college, and considered as a good Greek scholar, at a period when to read and perfectly understand that language was no common attainment.

Qualified with superior learning, he presumed to differ in opinion with Bishop Gardiner, chancellor of the university, on certain apparently unimportant points relating to etymology and ́verbal pronunciation; this roused the indignation of that haughty churchman, who considered his power equally absolute on grammatical questions, as he wished it to be in ecclesiastical matters.

On this occasion, a singular mandate was officially issued, in which minute and precise rules were laid down for declining, pronouncing, and spelling words; diphthongs were also a source of no small vexation to the imperious prelate of Winchester.

The subject of this article was appointed tutor to prince Edward, and became gentleman of his chamber, when that amiable. youth ascended the throne; but on the accession of the intolerant Mary, he was committed to prison for avowing the tenets of Luther.

By the connivance or corruption of his keepers, having escaped from confinement, he fled to the Continent, visited the principal cities of Germany,

and wrote a defence of his literary opinions against the magisterial edict of his unrelenting enemy, Gardiner.

The manuscript falling into the hands of Coelius Curio, a learned man, mentioned in the article Olympia; he was so much pleased with the good sense and unassuming love of truth in the Englishman's production, that he printed it without the author's knowledge; this proceeding greatly irritated the bishop of Winchester, who eagerly watched for and soon found an opportunity of gratifying his revenge.

Sir John being naturally desirous of seeing his wife, from whom he had been long separated, appointed a meeting at Antwerp; this intelligence reaching the ears of Gardiner, by the permission and authority of Philip, king of Spain, and husband to queen Mary, the unfortunate fugitive was seized and conveyed a prisoner to England.

Gardiner was delighted with the prospect of what appears to have been with him a supreme pleasure, the putting to death his political and religious opponents; but his cruel purpose was defeated by a want of firmness in the object of his vengeance.

Soon after his arrival in England, Lady Cheek presented a

petition to her majesty, in which her husband avowed a detestation of his religious errors, and submitted himself to the queen's mercy, who granted him a pardon: having thus saved himself from death by abjuring the religious faith he had professed, he was restored to liberty, but never to peace of mind.

Compunction and sorrow for the dishonourable and retrograde step he had taken, embittered the remainder of his life; on this occasion his sufferings must have been rendered still more

acute, by beholding daily and hourly before his eyes so many saints, martyrs, and holy men, suffering with exemplary firmness in the devouring flames; he felt the anguish of a wounded spirit, and in a few months died of a broken heart.

HIVALRY, a military institution, whose downfall Mr. Burke so eloquently la

mented in the characteristic language of romance.

Whether the advantages of commerce abroad, and a general spirit of agricultural industry at home, are not ample equivalents, is a point not to be discussed in this place.

This enthusiastic passion in which courtesy and violence, love and religion, bravery and submission,

submission, were so remarkably blended, seems to have attained its highest pitch in England, during the fourteenth century, and principally in the brilliant reign of Edward the third, when a romantic nation was governed by a romantic king.

As remarkably illustrating the spirit of those times, a transaction has been preserved, which took place soon after the death of that victorious monarch, when his grandson and successor, that unfortunate or rather that imprudent prince, Richard the second, sat on the English

throne.

The affair of which I wish to speak was a personal altercation which took place between the dukes of Hereford and Norfolk; the former accusing the latter of having uttered many seditious expressions against the king in a private conversation.

This charge, which in modern times would have been officially conducted by the king's attorney general in a court of justice, was long and warmly contested in council, and no third person being present to corroborate the evidence of Hereford, it was determined, that the point at issue should be decided by single

combat.

At the time and place appointed, the parties met; Here

ford, the challenger, first appeared on a white charger, sumptuously caparisoned and armed at all points; as he approached the lists, the marshal donanded of him who he was, to which he answered "I "I am Henry of

Lancaster, duke of Hereford, and according to my duty appear this day to make good my charge against Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, who is a false traitor to God, the king, this realm, and me."

Then taking the oath that his quarrel was just, he desired to enter the lists; his request being granted, he sheathed his sword, lowered his beaver, and crossing himself on the forehead, seized his lance, passed the barrier, alighted, and sat down on a chair of green velvet placed at one end of the lists.

Hereford had scarcely taken his seat, when the king entered the field with great pomp and ceremony, splendidly attired, attended by a long train of peers, courtiers, and noble personages, who had repaired to England from France and other foreign courts to view the spectacle; the royal procession closed with ten thousand men at arms, who were properly disposed and arranged to prevent tumult and preserve order.

G2

His majesty being seated in

his

his chair of state, canopied and richly ornamented, a king at arms proclaimed that none but such as were appointed to marshal the field should presume to touch the lists, on pain of death; each matter thus declared by proclamation, being preceded and followed by a flourish of trumpets, after a a pause of silence and attention.

A herald gorgeously and somewhat heavily arrayed in the ensigns of his office next advanced, and made proclamation in the following form of words, and in a loud voice:

"Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk," which he pronounced three times slowly and distinctly, "Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, behold here Henry of Lancaster, duke of Hereford, who hath this day appeared and is now entered the lists to perform his devoir against thee, on pain of being counted false and recreant."

The duke of Norfolk immediately rode to the barrier, mounted on a barb; his coat of arms was of crimson velvet, embroidered with lions of silver and golden mulberry trees; having taken his oath before the constable and marshal, the barrier was raised and his grace entered the field, exclaiming, in an elevated

and firm tone of voice, GoD DEFEND THE right.

Norfolk now alighted from his horse, and was conducted to a chair of crimson velvet, on which he seated himself, facing his antagonist, but at the opposite end of the lists.

A marshal next advanced, and having measured their lances, delivered one to the challenger, and sent the other by a knight to the duke of Norfolk; proclamation was then made that they should prepare for the combat.

The horses being each led forth by a page, suitably and richly apparelled, they both mounted at the same time, closed their beavers, fixed their lances, and a charge being sounded, and the duke of Hereford began his career with violence and apparent animosity, but before he could meet his antagonist, the king threw down his warder, and the heralds interposing and seizing their lances prevented further proceeding on the part of the dukes.

Richard ordered both parties to be taken into custody, and a few days after banished Hereford for ten years, and the duke of Norfolk for life.

The king's conduct on this occasion has been condemned by a modern writer, as unjust,

absurd,