ting number of bells for a cathedral; rate volume on The Church Bells of Dethree, or two at the least, for a parish von, to which we are already indebted for church. What the ancient bell-ringers several facts. It is worth while translaresembled may be seen from a curious ting one or two of these early mottoes. carving of one, clad in a cassock, and ringing a bell with each hand, on a Nor

Crowned Virgin, lead us to blessed realms, man font at Belton, Lincolnshire.

May the Lord's name be blessed. It is very difficult to tell the exact date I will sing Thy praise, O Lord. of our oldest bells. Those of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries have invari.

In the eastern counties of England, ably shields, letters, and other devices, where Puritanism most prevailed, is found from wbich a tolerably correct guess can

a curious inscriptionbe made at the year in which they were I sound not for the souls of the dead, but the ears cast. Dates were marked on them after of the living 1550, and the practice has since been continued. Mr. Tyssen, a great author- English mottoes did not come into geneity on campanology, supposes a bell at ral use till the seventeenth century, after Duncton, Sussex, to be the earliest dated which English and Latin legends were bell in England. It bears the date of (as they still are) indiscriminately used. 1369, but is of foreign manufacture.

· God save the church” or " the king” is Tell a campanologist of a bell with an frequently found. inscription on it, and he is at once eager

I to the grave do summon all, to reach it, braving all the dangers of im

And to the church the living call, perfect rickety ladders and rotten belfry is on a bell at Southwell Church, and on floors, the wrath of owls and jackdaws is on a bell at Southwell Church, and on at seeing their realms invaded, to say

many more. nothing of the certainty of being half

After 1600, bell-mottoes lose, for the smothered in dust and cobwebs. One

most part, their religious tone. They such we remember who fell through the

record the


and churchwardens' belfry floor, but was luckily caught by names and the date of casting. Longer two joists under his arms. There he re

inscriptions are often frivolous or irreve. mained suspended—being an elderly rent, such asman, and fearing lest the joists should

My sound is good, my shape is neat, also give way if he made strenuous en- Somebody made me all compleat. deavors to extricate himself—till the clerk happened to come into the body of At St. Helen's, Worcester, is a set of bells the church, and then ascended to his res

on which are recorded Marlborough's cue. Most fortunately, the good man victories. had a habit of carrying his snuff loose in

Leonine or rhyming Latin hexameters bis waistcoat pocket (like the first Napo- are frequently found on bells; others are leon), and was just able to reach it and called alphabet bells, from bearing the supply his nose during his unpleasant letters of the alphabet in quaint old

types imprisonment, to which, he used to say,

on their rims. Lest these minutive should he owed much of his equanimity while prove wearisome to any save professed suspended. " Jesus bells," as they are campanologists, we hasten to conclude this called, are far from uncommon. Sir H. paper by culling a few bell-legends at Partridge won four such—the greatest random from Mr. Ellacombe's interesting of their kind in the kingdom—from collection of those to be found on Devon Henry VIII. at a single cast of the dice. church bells. The oldest bells bear the name of the

MORES VESTRA VITA. saint to whom they were dedicated. Then follows the Ora pro nobis of pre- Squire Arundel the great my whole expense did Reformation times, specially common in

raise, the fourteenth century. In the fifteenth Nor shall our tongues abate to celebrate his praise. century, succeed short Latin hexameters,

BEATI IMMACULATI. or laudatory mottoes. We shall enrich When you me ring, I'll sweetly sing. this part of our subject with gatherings I mean to make it understood from the Rev. H. T. Ellacombe's elabo- That though I'm little, yet I'm good.

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When I begin, then all strike in.

in campanology. We can well remem

ber how the souls of good Presbyterians Some generous hearts do me here fix, And now I make a peal of six.

were sore rexed when St. Ninian's was

completed at Perth, and “a' day lang Come let us sing, Church and King!

the bell was jowling o'er the Inch for EGO SUM Vox CLAMANTIS PARATE.

prayers, like a mad thing.”. What a pity Recast by John Taylor and Son,

that Bishop Grandison, who wrote the Who the best prize for church bells won

statutes for the above-mentioned church At the Great Exhibition

of Ottery, could not have revisited the In London 1, 8, 5 and 1.

earth, to rectify matters at Perth! We I toll the funeral knell,

translate a few words of them, as a partI ring the festal day,

ing caution to all ardent campanologists : I mark the fleeting hours,

Peals are to be rung at funerals accordAnd chime the church to pray.

ing to the dignity of the deceased, on

fewer or more bells; but we forbid them It is worth noticing that in the bells to be sounded at too great length, nor of Ottery St. Mary and St. Martin Exeter, again after even-song or early in the of the date of 1671, are inserted satirical morning (as they do at Exeter), because medals, which were not uncommon at “sounding brass or the tinkling cymbal’ that time, representing a pope and a king profit souls not at all, and do much harm under one face, a cardinal and bishop on to men's ears, and to the fabric, and to the other. These are a very rare feature the bells."

Leisure Hour.


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THERE is an inaccurate reference in Essays will bear repetition after these Crabb Robinson's “Diary” to a poem of lines :Mrs. Barbauld's, in which she is represented as prophesying that “on some future She was great and respected before the day a traveller from the Antipodes will, Saxon had set foot on Britain, before the from a broken arch of Blackfriars Bridge; eloquence still flourished in Antioch, when

Frank had passed the Rhine, when Grecian contemplate the ruins of St. Paul's.'

idols were still worshipped in the temple of The actual passage speaks of wanderers, Mecca. And she may still exist in undiminwho

ished vigor when some traveller from New

Zealand shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, “With duteous zeal their pilgrimage shall take,

take his stand on a broken arch of London From the blue mountains on Ontario's lake, With fond adoring steps to press the sod,

Bridge to sketch the ruins of St. Paul's." By statesmen, sages, poets, heroes trod.

It does not detract from the eloquent Pensive and tboughtful shall the wanderers greet Each splendid square and still untrodden street;

force of this language that the same fig. Or of some crumbling turret, mined by time,

ure in various forms has been frequently The broken stairs with perilous step may climb, used; but there is a curiously close reThence stretch their view the wide horizon round, semblance in one of Walpole's lively By scattered hamlets trace its ancient bound, And, choked no more with fleets, fair Thames

letters to Sir H. Mann, where the fol

lowing sentence occurs : survey Through reeds and sedge pursue his idle way.

“At last some curious native of Lima will Oft shall the strangers turn their eager feet, The rich remains of ancient art to greet;

visit London, and give a sketch of the ruins

of Westminster and St. Paul's." The pictured walls with critic eye explore, And Reynolds be what Raphael was before. The idea is the common property of On spoils from every clime their eye shall gaze, Egyptian granites and the Etruscan vase ;

writers who have moralized on the mutaAnd when 'midst fallen London, they survey

bilities of time. Volney, in his “Ruins The stone where Alexander's ashes lay,

of Empires,” had written :Shall own with humble pride the lesson just, By Time's slow finger written in the dust."

"Reflecting that if the places before me

had once exhibited this animated picture, The famous sentence in Macaulay's who, said I to myself, can assure me that their present desolation will not one day be “And empire seeks another hemisphere. the lot of our own country? Who knows

Where now is Britain ? Where her laurell’d names, but that hereafter some traveller like myself Her palaces and halls? Dash'd in the dust, will sit down upon the banks of the Seine, Some second Vandal hath reduced her pride, the Thames, or the Zuyder Zee, where now,

And with one big recoil hath thrown her back in the tumult of enjoyment, the heart and the

To primitive barbarity. Again, eyes are too slow to take in the titude of

Through her depopulated vales the scream

Of bloody superstition bollow rings, sensations—who knows but that he will sit

And the scared native to the tempest howls down solitary amid silent ruins, and weep a The yell of deprecation. O'er her marts, people inurned, and their greatness changed Her crowded ports, broods Silence; and the cry into an empty name?.

Of the low curlew, and the pensive dash Shelley has used a similar illustration, Even as the savage sits upon the stone

Of distant bilows, breaks along the void ; with the fuller imagery of a poet, in the That marks where stood her capitols, and hears preface to “Peter Bell the Third," which The bittern booming in the woods, be shrinks he addresses to Moore

From the dismaying solitude. Her bards

Sing in a language that hath perished : "In the firm expectation, that when Lon

And their wild harps suspended o'er their grapes, don shall be a habitation of bitterns, when Sigh to the desert winds a dying strain. St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey shall

"Meanwbile the Arts, in second infancy, stand shapeless and nameless ruins, in the

Rise in some distant clime, and then, perchance, midst of an unpeopled marsh ;, when the piers Steering his bark through trackless solitudes,

Some bold adventurer, filled with golden dreams, of Westminster Bridge shall become the nu

Where, to his wandering thoughts, no daring prow clei of islets of reeds and osiers, and cast the

Hath ever plough'd beforeespies the cliffs jagged shadows of their broken arches on the Of fallen Albion. To the land unknown solitary stream; some transatlantic commen- He journeys joyful; and perhaps desires tator will be weighing in the scales of some Some vestige of her ancient stateliness; new and now unimagined system of criticism Then he, with vain conjecture, fills his mind the respective merits of the Bells, and the Of the unheard-of race, which had arrived Fudges, and their historians.

At science in that solitary nook

Far from the civil world; and sagely sighs, Kirke White has the following pas- And moralizes on the state of man." sage in his poem non “Time":



JAMES Watt, the Scottish mechani- head, who complained of his (to her) cian and engineer, the inventor of the idle and unprofitable occupation in steam-engine, is one of the most illus- watching the boiling tea-kettle, taking trious names in the annals of Science; off and replacing the lid, observing the but the circumstances of his career are exit of steam from the spout, bolding a too generally familiar at the present saucer or spoon over the escaping jet, time to require at our hands more than and counting the drops of water that a brief explanation of the engraving of condensed on it. The good lady of which he is the subject. He was born course saw only a musing, listless, and at Greenock, Scotland, January 19, somewhat lazy boy; and had no idea 1736, and from his earliest youth showed that from those musings and apparently a remarkable genius for mathematics aimless experiments was to be evolved and mechanical contrivances. At the agency the discovery of which age of fourteen he constructed an elec- marked an epoch in the history of the trical machine for his own use, and at world, gave an almost incalculable imthis early age also the power of steam, petus to modern civilization, and asand the method of applying it to me- sured to her nephew himself and all conchanics, began to attract his attention. nected with him an immortality of fame. Arago, in his funeral éloge before the Seeing how natural it was, and yet how French Academy of Sciences, relates an closely connected with a great historic anecdote of him which probably forms event, the complaint of the old lady the subject, or at least gave the hint, offers a most fitting subject for the for our picture. It appears that about brush of the bistoric painter. this period Watt had an aunt, Miss Muir- WATT was a civil engineer, a surveyor,

New SERIES - VOL. XII., No. 1.



and a practical mechanic, but it is for tions, such as the copy-press, the use of bis inventions that he is chiefly known. steam pipes for house-warming, &c., toAfter years of patient experiment his gether with many mechanical improvefirst working steam-engine was pro- ments, are also connected with his name. duced and patented in 1768-9, and his He died at Birmingham, in 1819, after double-acting engine, “the crowning a more honored and successful life than improvement in the engine," was patent- in this blind world of ours usually falls ed in 1782. Numerous other inven- to the lot of great inventors.

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I lost all the strength that I won

To smite you who doomed me to die : But wait till my slumber is done.


What know you, O Masters of mine!

Of will strong and fierce as the sea, Of vengeance that ever will be While a breath in my body remains ?

Go, heat your cold blood with your wive, I was made with my fire in my veins !


Doomed was the God

ye adore, Spat upon, buffeted, killed;

His blood on the pillar was spilled, On the pavement did settle and smoke:

Is yours any love that He bore, Are yours any words that He spoke?


The woful Lamia with her weeping eyes,

The awful Lamia with her gaze of gloom, The serpent-demon garbed iu ruddy dyes,

Her horror shrouded in a radiant bloom, Where, hid beneath the stalks and fragrant

bells, Lurked the live poison of earth's asphodels.

(From "Aletheia," by CHARLES KENT.)


LIFE is delight, each hour that passes over
Comes like a maiden's kisses to her lover,
Comes like the fresh breath of the mountain

Comes like the south wind trembling through

the trees;
Or like the song of larks above the heather,
Or like a murmurous hum in sultry weather,-
A dreamy bliss that knows no waking sorrow,
A present joy that craves no happier morrow,
When Love enthralls us till we hug the chain,
And Beauty's smile is worth a miser's gain;
When Hope is better than reality,
And Faith is boundless as the boundless sea.

Resurgam! The hillside is steep,

The cross crushes body and limb, The grave has a mouth that is grim To shut out the sun from my eyes :

What matter-I sink to my sleep, The sun will remain till I riso.

J.J. M.


Let worn-out cynics tell us Life's a jest,
We know its glory and we feel its zest;
Let parsons, languid on fat livings, preach,
That joy is something always out of reach;
Let pale ascetics deem God's world a gin
To lure mankind and womankind to sin,-
We reck not if dyspeptic fools agree,
But laugh such creeds to scorn at twenty-three.

O FOR the forests of fair Arcady!

The Dryads dancing in the leafy dell!
O for the umbrage of Pelasgic tree,

With Hamadryads in the rind to dwell!
The sorrel trampled by the hoof of Faun!
The wood-nymph's gambol o'er the greenwood


The reign of youthful Bacchus now no more
Peoples the glade with sprites of antique

The sedgy reed no longer to the core
Thrills with the pipings lipped with quaint

grimace; No more shall syrinx sound about the boles, Or foot of Satyr fright Boeotian moles.

What though 'tis true that youth glides swiftly

That if we live we wear gray hairs at last;
That the keen rapture, and the wild delight,
The joyous freedom of our manhood's might,
The hopes, the fears, the passion and the glory,
Are transient features of a transient story,
That Love itself—youth's twin,—will scarcely

Till Life has reached the summer of its day ;
That even She, the maiden of our Spring,
May fade ere Autumu's fruits be ripening ?
Time passes on but leaves its gifts behind,
Rest for the heart and riches for the mind.
If every year a golden apple fall,
Each year makes captive of some glorious

Truth, knowledge, virtue, –all are ours to gain :
Life stretches onward like an unknown main,
Life stretches upward to the starry maze;
God's gates fly open at our ardent gaze;
A dazzling ray illumes the crystal sea,
When Heaven lies near to earth at twenty.


Pan with the riot of his rabble troop,

Narcissus brooding o'er the fatal pool,
Diana girded by a virgin group,

Silenus reeling like the wine-king's fool,
No more may wander thro' the Lesbian woods,
Or break the stillness of their solitudes.

Thy jocund voice, Sylvanus, now is dumb!

No cry of Dryope again may souud
When the faint odor of the lotus bloom
Floats with the zephyr o'er the Grecian

E'en Ariadne's pensive love is o'er,
Though guarded not by ghastly Minotaur.


Time was when thro' the dusky vales of Crete

The linnet, pight with plumes of tawny gold, Within the thicket rustled till the sweet

And fragile blossoms fluttered to the mould,
Arousing from her lair among the weeds
The dismal Lamia twined in rosy bredes:

“Thou shalt have one God only; who
Would be at the expense of two ?
No graven images may be
Worshipped, except the currency :

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