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be the bodies of King Henry VIII. and Queen Jane Seymour, his third wife, as indeed they were. The velvet palls that covered their coffins seemed fresh, though they had lain there above 100 years.

The lords agreeing that the king's body should be in the said vault interred, being about the middle of the choir, over against the eleventh stall upon the sovereign's side, they gave order to have the king's name and the year he died cut in lead; which, whilst the workmen were about, the lords went out and gave Puddifant, the sexton, order to lock the chapel door, and not suffer any to stay therein till farther notice. The sexton did his best to clear the chapel, nevertheless Isaac, the sexton's man, said that a foot soldier had hid himself so as he was not discerned; and being greedy of prey, crept into the vault, and cut so much of the velvet pall that covered the great body as he judged could hardly be missed, and wimbled also a hole through the said coffin that was largest, probably fancying that there was something well worth his adventure. The sexton, at his opening the door, espied the sacrilegious person, who being scarched, a bone was found about him, with which he said he would haft a knife. The governor being therefore informed of, he gave him his reward; and the lords and others present were convinced that a real body was in the said great coffin, which some before had scrupled. The girdle or circumscription of capital letters of lead put upon the king's coffin had only these words, "King Charles, 1648."

The king's body was then brought from his bedchamber down into St. George's Hall, whence after a little stay, it was with a slow and solemn pace (much sorrow in most faces being then discernible) carried by gentlemen of quality in mourning. The noblemen in mourning also held up the pall, and the governor, with several gentlemen, officers, and attendants, came after. It was then observed, that at such time as the king's body was brought out from St. George's Hall, the sky was serene and clear, but presently it began to snow, and the snow fell so fast that by that time the corpse came to the west end of the Royal Chapel the black velvet pall was all white, (the colour of innocence) being thick covered over with snow. The body being by the bearers set down near the place of burial, the Bishop of London stood ready, with the service-book in his hands, to have performed his last duty to the king his master, according to the order and form of burial of the dead, set forth in the book of "Common Prayer;" which the lords likewise desired, but it would not be suffered by Col. Witchcot, the governor of the castle, by reason of the directory, to which (said he) he and others were to be conformable. Thus went the White King to

grave, in the 48th year of his age, and 22d year and 10th th of his reign. To let pass Merlin's prophecy, which some allude to the white satin his majesty wore when he was crowned in Westminster Abbey, former kings having on purple robes at their coronation, I shall conclude this narrative with the king's own excellent expression, running thus: Crowns and kingdoms are not so valuable as my honour and reputation. Those must have a period with my life, but these survive to a glorious kind of immortality when I am dead and gone; a good name being the embalming of princes, and a sweet consecrating of them to an eternity of love and gratitude amongst posterity.

BON MOT OF FOX.

DURING the poll at Westminster, in the year 1784, a dead cat being thrown on the hustings, one of Sir Cecil Wray's party observed that it stunk worse than a Fox; to which Mr. Fox replied, "there was nothing extraordinary in that, considering it was a poll-cat!"

POETRY.

THE BUMPKIN'S INVITATION.

Air-Oh! Nanny, wilt thou gang with me? DR. PERCY.
OH! Molly, wilt thou go with me,
Nor sigh to quit this noisy place?
Can rude log huts have charms for thee,
And bumpkins rough with rugged face?
No longer dressed in muslins white,
Nor braided close thine auburn hair,
Say, can'st thou quit these scenes to night,
Where thou art fairest of the fair?
Oh! Molly, when thou 'rt far away,
Wilt thou not cast a wish behind,
If thou art forc'd to rake up hay,
To top the corn, or sheaves to bind?
Oh! can that soft and gentle heart

Such rural hardships learn to bear,
If so we'll from this town depart,
Where thou art fairest of the fair.
Sweet Molly can'st thou breeches make,
And neatly spin Merino yarn;
Wilt thou soon learn pone bread to bake,
And my old worsted stockings darn?
Should harvest whiskey make me fall,
Would'st thou assume the nurse's care;
Nor sullen those gay scenes recall,
Where thou wert fairest of the fair?
And when dead drunk I'm put to bed,
Wilt thou prepare the water gruel;
Nor curse the day that thou didst wed,
And call thy drunken Strephon cruel?
If thus he daily wet his clay,

Wilt thou not drop a briny tear;
And wish thou wert with heart more gay,
Where thou wert fairest of the fair?
Ah! no, I think thou know'st what's good,
And to the country will incline,
Where thou must work to earn thy food,
And whiskey drink instead of wine.
On sabbath days to church we 'll go,
I riding Dobbin, thou the mare;
And still I'll think, as old we grow,
That thou art fairest of the fair.
West River.

SEDLEY.

SONG OF DWINA.

[From Miss Baillie's Plays.]

WAKE awhile and pleasant be,
Gentle voice of melody.

Say, sweet carol, who are they
Who cheerly greet the rising day?
Little birds in leafy bower;
Swallows twitt'ring on the tower;
Larks upon the light air borne;
Hunters rous'd with shrilly horn;
The woodman whistling on his way;
The new waked child at early play,
Who barefoot prints the dewy green,
Winking to the sunny sheen;

And the milk-maid who binds her yellow hair,
And blithly doth her daily task prepare.

Say, sweet carol, who are they,
Who welcome in the ev'ning gray?
The housewife trim, and merry lout,
Who sit the blazing fire about;
The sage a conning o'er his book;
The tired wight, in rushy nook,
Who half asleep but faintly hears
The gossip's tale hum in his ears;
The loosen'd steed in grassy stall;
The Thanies feasting in the hall;
But most of all the maid of cheerful soul,
Who fills her peaceful warrrior's flowing bowl.

Well hast thou said! and thanks to thee,
Voice of gentle melody!

EPITAPH ON THE LATE MR. COOK.

PAUSE, thoughtful stranger: pass not heedless by,
Where Cooke awaits the tribute of a sigh.

Here, sunk in death, those powers the world admir'd,
By nature given, not by art acquir'd.

In various parts his matchless talents shone,
The one he failed in was, alas! his own.

Finsbury-Square, December 25, 1812.

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE, &c.

WE learn that steam-boats have worked with success on certain rivers in Scotland for a considerable time past, particularly on the Clyde and the Leven. One of these, called the Comet, built about two years ago at Port-Glasgow, is at present on a voyage to London.

DR. JOHN MOODIE, of Bath, a member of several literary societies, has finished for publication a work on which he has been several years engaged, on the modern geography of Asia. It is to contain a full and authentic description of the empires, kingdoms, states, and colonies; with the oceans, seas, and isles, of this great division of the globe; including the most recent discoveries and political alterations. Also a general introduction, illustrative of the physical geography, and present moral and political state of Asia. The whole to form two volumes, quarto, with an atlas. An original work of geography is a literary phenomenon, and Asia particularly merits that attention in Great Britain which Dr. M. has bestowed upon it.

QUEEN ELIZABETH's navy consisted only of 33 ships of one hundred tons and upwards. One of 1000 tons; three of 900; two of 800; three of 600; six of 500; and the others smaller. Our modern navy consists of 1000 ships, half of them larger than her largest; and query, will the present times rival in glory those of Elizabeth?

CAPTAIN ALLCUME, of Paris, has contrived a plan of modelling or casting cities in miniature, and has actually modelled, or made a cast of, Paris, on the scale of an inch to two hundred yards.

Some French engineers propose to blow up masses of loose earth, when hardened, during frosts, by means of gunpowder, as an expeditious mode of making canals, &c.

MR. TURNBULL, the last circumnavigator that has published the history of his voyage, has introduced, in a new and enlarged edition of his work in quarto, a prodigious number of facts relative to the interesting islands of the Pacific. Among other novelties, he mentions a circumstance, connected with geological speculations, which deserves to be transferred to our pages. In the voy age of Perouse, that navigator describes a reef of shoal banks, a few degrees north of Owhyhee, where he suggested that a pearl fishery might be established to advantage, and he states that the French frigates sailed over them. Some commercial persons, in consequence, lately engaged divers, and visited the spot, but were astonished to find, not only that no vessel can now sail over these banks, but that through a large extent they afford but two or three feet water, and in many places exhibit verdant spots above the water. Mr. Turnbull ascribes the change solely to the unremitting labours of polype and coral insects, and he confirms the hypothe sis that many other of the groupes of islands that stud this vast ocean derive their origin from similar causes.

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