doctor in his return; on ng at all acquainted with treated the farmer to lose ucting him back." My he farmer) you would not my wife, who was in real I promised to give ten only an imaginary danger but there is now a real enturing to show you the k; therefore, unless you ne guineas for my trouble ou home, you may abide until the next dry season." ere in vain; no art could ession on the countryman. as obliged to return nine farmer landed him safe pots, and the honest man again, triumphing over avarice. MPOSURE. since as the condemned ntering the gaol of Bury, nvicted of a burglary at thus accosted by his moboy, what are you to be Hanged, mother," replied 11," rejoined the mother, , and don't be hanged in es, but let me have them take your red waistcoat orne, bishop of Norwich, ection of anecdotes, has -In one of our universisix physicians; of two, very offensive; one was der; two were exceedae and turbulent, and one it of his profession. They act." A POSTMASTER in a country tow about thirty miles from London, bei awoke by the guard of the mail, actual threw out his small-clothes instead of th bag, which was not perceived by th guard, and they safely arrived at Lom bard-street, ere the mistake was disco vered. THE LAST ILLNESS OF THE LATE DUKE OF YORK. OUR attention has been called to a re cently published narrative of his late Royal Highness the Duke of York. written by Sir Herbert Taylor, which de tails, in a plain and unaffected manner, the progress of the disease that ultimately proved fatal in its consequences, and took from Great Britain one of its most useful as well as universally respected chieftains. The publication to which we have alluded presents a stateinent of facts, and relates every circumstance worthy of note during the last six months of his Royal Highness's illness. The remarks are really valuable; and as our limits will not admit of our publishing the narrative in the present number of the MIRROR, we have thought proper to publish it entire in a supplementary sheet. The narrative is therefore published with this sheet, and with the biography-the account of the lying-in-state and ceremonials observed at the funeral, which we have already printed-will furnish a complete statement in relation to the melancholy event. Our readers will please to observe, that the supplement is not paged, but is intended to be placed next to the number of the MIRROR containing the engraving of the funeral procession, at page 72 of the present volume. his first attempt from the top of this abbey, and, as it is said, did fly the distance of about a furlong, but then falling broke both his thighs and died shortly afterwards. King Athelstan was, by his own desire, buried under the high altar of this church, where his monument may still be seen. H. R. W. SCRAPS RELATING TO LONDON (For the Mirror.) ANCIENTLY London was governed by officers, yearly sent to it from Rome. It was destroyed by the Danes in 839, and repaired by Alfred, king of the West Saxons, in 886.-In 1253, the sheriffs of London were prisoners in the Tower for two months, owing to the escape of a prisoner from Newgate.-In 1260, king Henry III. with his queen, for fear of the barons, were lodged in the Tower, and the parliament was held there.-The first coining of gold in the Tower was in the reign of Edward III., 1344; in the same year the king ordained his exchange of money to be kept in Serns Tower, a part of the king's house in BucklersBury. In 1360, a French king was ransomed from the Tower.-In 1387, king Richard II. held his Christmas in the Tower, where in 1399 he was sent prisoner.- -In 1428, Baynard's Castle was destroyed by fire, rebuilt by Humphry, duke of Gloucester.-Edward IV. took on him the crown in this castle, also Richard III.- Bridewell was built by Henry VIII. purposely to entertain the emperor Charles V., who in 1522 was in the City of London.-In Barbican formerly stood the Burhkenning or watchtower for the City of London, from whence a man might behold (says Stowe) and view the whole city towards the south, and also into Kent, Sussex, and Surrey, and likewise every other way, east, north, or west.-Adel-street took its name from king Adelstane's house, which formerly stood there.-Thomas Becket was clerk to a sheriff of London, and afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, and chancellor of England.-The following is taken from William Fitzstephen's Account of London, which is said to be the earliest extant, and is to be seen in Stowe's Survey, published 1633. says, "Neere to the houses of the suburbs, the citizens have gardens and orchards planted with trees, large, beautiful, On the and one joyning to another. north side are fields for pasture, and open meadows, very pleasant, into which the He In river-waters doe flow, and mills are women. NORWEGIAN SONG. (Paraphrased in Verse from the original BY THE AUTHOR OF "FIELD FLOWERS," &c. Pay every expense and buy wine; Disturb not the cloud crowned spot where I Should I dwell in the rich verdant valley, And low as they crop their green food; I laugh at the boastings of fashion, I pity the usurer's fate, And, guiltless of each troublous passion, Observe every fall of the great. In safety I sit on my sod of green grass, On a holm, where for ever the mew So as all but to swamp my full boat, "Long life and success to the fish!" Thirst, peevishness, ennui, and care. Then here's to old Norway-may honour Still around her its radiance pour; Prosperity too be upon her, The mountain, the valley, the shore! And ever may all her prosperity prove, Who Norway and social hilarity love! H. B. The Sketch-Book. No. XXXIII. THE GRUMBLING TRAVELLER. COMFORT is a word peculiar to the English; but the English are the most uncomfortable beings on the face of the globe. They are most fastidious critics of enjoyment, and have the unenviable art of finding something to complain of in every place, and at all times. I once had the happiness to take a journey with one who had this faculty quite to perfection. We made our arrangements to leave London in the Liverpool mail. It was the latter end of September, when the season had been one of the most beautiful I have remembered for many years. Before we started, we determined to dine at a coffee-house in the city this was something new to me, and I rather expected to gratify my curiosity than enjoy much comfort. As we entered the room, box, I was just going to express my surprise at the neatness of the room, when my companion burst out in exclamations against the heat, and smell, and confined air; and asked the waiter if he had not a clean table-cloth in the house. With and took our seats at a vacant the utmost civility, and most uncomplaining obsequiousness, the windows were opened, a clean cloth was spread upon the table: but the noise of the street was now so intolerable, we could not hear ourselves speak. The next object of animadversion was the spoons. "What, can't you trust your company with silver spoons ?""They are silver, sir." "Oh, I thought they were pewter." son. A long bill of fare was produced, as long as an apothecary's bill" Is this all you have?" Then my friend's ingenuity was exerted to recollect a dozen more dishes; some of which, unfortunately for his sagacity, happened to be out of seaAfter a great many hesitations and counter-orders, the dinner was settled; and my appetite was most pleasantly fading away by its influences, while my companion, who ate quite as heartily, as myself, was indulging himself, at the same time, in every possible variety of grumbling-the bread was dry-the salt was wet-the vinegar was thick -- the mustard was thin. "Now, waiter, let us have a bottle of your execrable port." Here was a fine opportunity of growling: all the commonplace complaints and criticisms of wine, were uttered with the volubility, that indicates, they have been learned by heart. The wine was changed-I could not tell the difference- it was still called wretched stuff but the bottle was finished, and my friend would have had a second, had not I declared against it. lane, and took our seats in the mail, after At half-past seven we walked to Ladseeing our luggage safely stowed. But my fellow-traveller insisted upon having his portmanteau in the coach with him; and was even so polite, as to hope it would not be in anybody's way-" Oh, by no means." Delay, with these vehicles, is out of the question. Off we set-not a word spoken by any one. Grumbling first broke silence. "What disagreeable things are these mail coaches-there is no room to breathe in them." The window was let down. "Who would have expected such sultry hot weather, at the latter end of September ?" As we slowly ascended Highgate Hill (this was before the arch-way was made) the air began to grow somewhat cooler, and the wind blowing, or rather breathing, from the south-west, came full upon my companion's face; who sat, as all knowing travellers do, with his back to the horses. This fanned his indignation into another flame-he was sure of catch. ing his death with cold. Then followed a long declamation on the variable climate of Great Britain. "It was won derful how people could live in such a fickle atmosphere." "I have lived in it seventy years," said an old gentleman on the opposite side," and have enjoyed a tolerably good share of health." The travelling cap was now substituted for the hat, which was suspended by two strings across the roof; and the company seemed disposed to sleep. The guard of a mail coach is a terrible enemy to sleep. We were now approaching the end of our first stage. The poor complainant was wakened by the long blast of the horn. More grumbling.-"What a bore it is to be annoyed by that booby's trumpeting." "It would be a much greater inconvenience," said the old gentleman, "to wait a quarter of an hour for fresh horses." "But the fellow need not make so much noise." 66 Perhaps he thinks otherwise, and it is not always easy to teach persons in office, to make the most discreet use of authority." The next interruption was from the coachman-he came to take leave of the company. "What a scandalous imposition in this tax upon the passengers." The fee was given quite as liberally by my friend as by the rest of us, but he could not let slip an opportunity of complaining-he thought it a great shame that it was not put a stop to-they had better pay more for their fare, and be rid found, than that the eggs were not brought soon enough, nor quite boiled enough, that the butter was very bad, and the bill very unreasonable, and the coachman very impatient. Here we took in another passenger, who joined in concert with my agreeable fellow - traveller; but as the MIRROR disdains politics, I am under the neces sity of suppressing a most interesting and instructive dialogue. At Litchfield we dined. Here was no hesitation over a bill of fare, and scarcely tine to find fault with the wine; but as the post was not quite made up, the guard informed us that we might sit another quarter of an hour. This was very refreshing to us all, but to the poor unfortunate, who said it was a conspiracy to entrap us into taking another bottlewhich he protested he would not do—but changed his mind when the waiter brought it, at the beck of his political friend. Thus it seems to be in the journey of life. They who have real evils and troubles, make it their business to smooth and alleviate them, and those who have none, as if to make the balance even, and prevent a spirit of envy in others, at their happy lot, do all in their power to magnify troubles, and make themselves most ingeniously wretched. of this nuisance. "If that were done," Retrospective Gleanings said the old gentleman, "it would make the matter no better; passengers would soon undo the arrangement by their own liberality; and in the end, we should pay the proprietors more, and the coachmen no less." It was really very impertinent thus to rob my friend of the comfort of grumbling. "What is the matter now-what is the coach stopping for?" "We are not stopping, we are only going over Woburn sands." "But why don't they mend the road ?"- "It is very difficult to make a good road over such a soil." "Then why don't they turn the road ?" "Really I can't tell; but, we shall soon be over it, and after all, the inconvenience is much greater to the horses than it is At Northampton we stopped to breakfast: and there the old gentleman left us. He very politely wished us a good morning, and a comfortable journey. My companion was quite irritated at the word "comfortable;" he thought it looked like a sneer. "What a disagreeable old fool that is," said he; "I dare say he thinks himself very wise." "Perhaps," thought I," he thinks you very foolish" -but I did not say so. Breakfast was soon dispatched. No other fault was ΗΥΜΝ. RISE, oh, my soul, with thy desires to heaven, And let vam thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse; But down in darkness let them lie; So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die! And thou, my soul, inspir'd with holy flame, View and review with most regardful eye That holy Cross, whence thy salvation came, On which thy Saviour and thy sin did die! For in that sacred object is much pleasure, And in that Saviour is my life, my treasure. To thee, O Jesu! I direct my eyes, To thee my hands, to thee my humble knees; To thee my heart shall offer sacritice, To thee my thoughts, who my thoughts only sees; To thee myself, myself and all I give ; SIR WALTER RALEIGH. Sights of London. THE NATIONAL GALLERY. SOON after the death of the late Mr. Angerstein, his executors had determined to dispose of his valuable collection of |