Mr. Frederick Grey, one of the Midshipmen of the Genoa, had his arm nearly severed from his body by a shot, and it was found necessary to take it off at the socket. On reaching the cockpit he called out to the surgeon, 'Bear a hand, my hearty; make haste, will you? The fun is not half over yet, and I must have another touch at the fellows.' He was not, however, suffered to go on deck again.

The evening before the engagement, one of the Midshipmen, whose parents live at Plymouth, seeing others engaged in making their wills, thought himself of doing something in the same way; but when he had taken up his pen, he recollected that he had nothing to leave but his traps. He, however, would not have it said he would do so unkind a thing as to go out of the world without at least saying a good bye to his parents; so he wrote a letter, of which the following is a copy:

Dear Parents-We are going into action to-morrow. Perhaps I shall be killed. If so I shall be buried at Navarin, I send you a lock of my hair. My traps will not be sold, but kept for you. Give my love to my brothers, and, believe me your dutiful son,'

A seaman having his leg shattered by a ball, underwent amputation with the greatest indifference to pain. When the limb was taken off, it was of course immediately thrown overboard, upon which Jack called out to the man who had performed the last office for his departed leg,-'Curse your eyes, I'll complain of you to the Captain-although you were ordered to throw my leg overboard, you had no right to throw my shoe with it.'

A marine of the name of Hill, who was quartered on the poop of the Genoa, had both his arms shot off at nearly the same moment. He instantly turned to Captain Dicken

son, the commander, who stood near him, and said, with the utmost coolness, I hope you'll allow, sir, that I have done my duty.' The poor fellow is now at the Naval Hospital at Stonehouse, but is not expected to recover.

After the action, an Irishman named Phelan, who was cook's mate of the Genoa, was observed to skip about the kitchen with the most ludicrous manifestation of joy. On being questioned, he shouted out, Och, by the powers! I'm so glad the villains hav'nt spoilt the coppers the devil a shot has touched them.'

MOHAMMEDAN PURGATORY.

When a corpse is laid in the grave, they say he is received by an angel, who gives him notice of the coming of the two examiners; which are two black livid angels, of a terrible appearance, named Monker and Nakir. These order the dead person to sit upright, and examine him concerning his faith, as, to the unity of God, and the mission of Mohammed. If he answer rightly, they suffer the body to rest in peace, and it is refreshed by the air of Paradise but if not, they beat him on the temples with iron maces, till he roars out for anguish so loud, that he is heard by all from east to west, except men and genii, Then they press the earth on the corpse, which is gnawed and stung till the resurrection, by ninety-nine dragons, with seven heads each; or, as others say, their sins will become venomous beasts, the grievous ones stinging like dragons, the smaller like scorpions, and, the others like serpents; circumstances which some understand in a figurative sense.

THE CREDIT OF THE THING.

The Rev. Mr. Evidence Taylor was seized with a fancy for converting the Jews, a few years before his connection with Carlile, and went

so far as to invite them to hear his pulpit orations. Several attended the call. In the course of his sermon to them, he took occasion to describe our Saviour's entry into Jerusalem, of which he gave rather a new version. He entered the city,' said he, mounted on a magnificent charger, covered with purple housings, and decked with trappings of gold and silver. One of his flock, who knew the facts of the case, could not stand this: Why, brother, cried he, it was upon an ass that he rode.'

And, if it was, replied the prea cher, reddening with indignation, should we be the first to expose the circumstance, and that before such company?'

beauty's eye;

But to me, to me, 'tis sweeter far

To meet my love 'neath the Evening Star.

'Tis sweet to seek the woods at noon, When the air is scorch'd with the breath

of June

And sweet to rest 'neath the green arcade That the clasping boughs of the ash have made

"Tis sweet to list the minstrel bee,

As he hums his lays on the wild rose tree; And sweet the voice of the whispering streams,

When the heart roams free in its Eden of dreams,

As their glittering waves in the sunlight glide

O'er the golden sands, like a chrystal tide:
But to me, to me, 'tis sweeter far
To meet my love 'neath the Evening Star.

sun

Then come, oh come, thou lovely one! With the lingering rays of the setting Come, when the winds float gently by, Like the dreamy tone of the wild harp's sighAnd the pale moon sails mid the stars that lie, Like silver isles in the sea of the sky; "And I'll lay me down on the stilly ground, And list for thy light steps echoing sound; And I'll gaze afar through the dewy air, For the waving locks of thy shining hair : Then come, for to me thou'rt lovelier far When seen by the light of the Evening

Star.

Come, oh come to that fairy dell,
Whose shadowy bosom I love so well-
Come, when the heavens above are still,
And there are no sounds on the lofty hill,'
Save the shrill cuckoo, or the blackbird's
tones,

Or the lonely stock-dove's floating moans,
Or the gliding founts as they whisper afar,
Like the plaining notes of thine own gui-
tar;

Come, oh come, with thy speaking eyes, And thy throbbing heart, and thy lowbreathed sighs,

And thy radiant cheek, with its crimson light,

Like a young June rose in the moonshine bright

For to me, to me, 'tis sweeter far
To meet thee, my love, near the Evening
Star.

EPIGRAMS.

C. X. R.

Old Æsop, that sarcastic Greek,
In days of yore, made horses speak.
Were he alive, 'twould charm his sight
To see how English Asses write.

Kate's little heart's a waxen form,

As sure as ribbands bind her bonnet ; You need but make it gently warm, And then clap down your seal upon it.

OF

IN

AT the head of the band, mounted on a fleet barb, a young gallant, who, as far as could be judged from the great rapidity with which he passed, possessed singular beauty of form and feature, and appeared to be a most graceful and accomplished horseman. Four others, although they rode a little way behind him, seemed by their gestures to be his friends and companions, and at a distance of ten or twenty No. 67.-N. S.

yards was the rear of the cavalcade, consisting of grooms and other attendants. Without relaxing his speed until he had reached the entrance of the great gatehouse, the leader of the troop threw himself hastily from his horse, and hurried into the court with the air of one whose rank and station authorised him to pass, even into the residence of royalty, without let or question; although the yeomen of

the guard looked somewhat anxiously at one another, as if they ought to have demanded his purpose before they suffered him to

enter.

At the portal which formed the entrance to the queen's dwelling apartments, and through which the stranger would have speeded in the same unceremonious manner as before, the pages, gentlemen ushers, and others, who were clustered about the doors, and who were startled at the appearance of such a soiled and bespattered figure, forcing himself as it were, into the private chambers, drew up and opposed his progress, enquiring at the same time who he was, and what he wanted. Gentlemen,' said the stranger, impatiently waving his hand for them to fall back, my purpose brooks not delay, and I beseech you not to parley with me, but to give me free passage. What am I so changed by a little mud and dirt that ye know me not for the Earl of Essex, Master of the Horse, and of the Ordnance, and the Lord Deputy?'

So saying, and without giving them time to recover from their surprise, he passed through the midst of them, and began to ascend the stairs.

Labouring under heavy imputations for his misconduct in Ireland, from which country he had suddenly returned, not only without leave, but in positive disobedience to the commands of his royal mistress: relying upon her well-known affection for his pardon, and complete restoration to favour, if he could once gain access to her, and apprehensive that if he failed in this object his enemies would ensure his disgrace and ruin, the impetuous earl had ridden post both day and night, without communicating his purpose to a single individual, except a few of his particular adherents, and having thus far success

fully triumphed over all obstacles, he was not likely to be impeded by the pages and chamberlains whom he encountered in the private apartments, as he hurried thro' them.

a

Gazing in utter amazement at such bespatted figure, making the floors ring to his heavy riding boots as he stalked onwards towards the queen's bed-room, some stood aloof, concluding that he had explained his errand to the yoemen below, while others placed themselves in his way, and informed him that the Queen had not yet come forth; but he either passed them or put them aside with the air of one who would not be disobeyed, and thus traversed the presence chamber, and the waiting room of the maids of honour, several of whom were not a little alarmed at the sight of such an inexplicable apparition. Neither noticing their startled looks, nor heeding their eager whispers, the adventurous Earl pursued his way, and never stopped till he came to the Queen's bed-room, the door of which he undauntedly opened, walked in, and closed it behind him.

Elizabeth was newly risen, and her locks were hanging in disorder about her face. She was incapable of fear, but her surprise was not without agitation at the first sight of a heated and bemoiled stranger thus intruding into her bed-room, and she was on the point of calling out for her chamberlain, when Essex rushed forward, threw himself upon his knees, and humbly implored her pardon. The sound of his wellknown voice, the humility of his language, and, above all, the sight of one whom she still loved, kneeling at her feet, and looking up to her with flushed and imploring features, so won upon her unprepared heart, that she held out both her hands to him to kiss, listened with a kind aspect to all his excuses, and gave him a more cordial reception than

even his fondest hopes had ventured to anticipate. Weak as a woman, although great and illustrious as a sovereign, she now suffered the former character to predominate, and Essex, who with all his headstrong impetuosity was not deficient in the conrtier's art, took good advantage of the mood in which he found her. Attributing his unsanctioned return to the impossibility of existing any longer out of the presence of a divinity, whose sight was as vital to him as was the breath of heaven to his nostrils, he addressed her in terms, of passionate, and even romantic gallantry, talked of her excellent beauties, though she was now in her sixty-seventh year, compared her at once to Venus and Minerva, to a nymph, goddess, and angel, quoted Latin and Greek in confirmation of his assertions, and played his part so successfully, that leaving her after a conference of some duration, he appeared in high spirits, and thanked God that tho' he had suffered many storms abroad, he had found a sweet calm at home. Having taken some refreshment, and attired himself in his most splendid suit, as some atonement for the unseemly habiliments in which he had before presented himself, Essex, who had been invited to repeat his visit to the palace, was sallying forth for that purpose, when he was accosted by a personage, who respectfully vailing his beaver, and presenting a letter, would have explained its object had he not been anticipated by the Earl's exclaiming Ha, Will Shakspeare! what makest thou at Nonsuch, when thou shouldst be playing the ghost to the holiday folks in London, and easing them of their Michaelmas testers ?' The poet replied that he had come to Ewel with his friend Dick Burbage to solicit of the Queen a licence for their theatre, and that his gracious patron, the Earl of Southamp

ton, who wes now unfortunately under her Majesty's heavy displeasure, had condescended to give him a letter to his special good friend the Lord Essex, bespeaking his influence and kind offices as soon as he should return from Ireland. Of this happy event the bard declared that he had no immediate expectation; but having learnt, within the last half hour, that his lordship had actually arrived at Nonsuch, he had been emboldened to deliver the letter with which he had been thus honored.Grammercy! master Shakspeare!' cried the Earl after hastily glancing over the paper, I am myself but a newly pardoned criminal, and therefore little warranted to become a suitor; but I feel too happy in her grace's favor not to wish to extend it to others. There are few things in which I would not venture to pleasure the Lord Southampton ; and it would like me no less to serve the merry varlet, or the soul stirring bard, (which shall I call thee?) whose lofty lines ever seems to me to o'ertop all praise, 'till they are clean eclipsed by his quaint and comic fantasies. So forward! with me to the garden, and if I may speed your suit, it shall not lack a willing advocate.'

The poet bowed his thanks, and followed at a short distance behind the Earl, who, however, turned round and conversed familiarly with him till they entered the gardens, which according to the prevailing taste were laid out in trim beds, formal parterres, fountains, and successive terraces, communicating with one another by flights of stone steps, and ornamented with vases, statues, and groupes of sculpture. At the extremity of one of these terraces stood a little pavilion called the Paradise, being decorated with representations of Adam and Eve, the Serpent and the Tree of Knowledge; and having an arbour for its

W