diversion of archery. The reigning house of York owed much of its military fuccefs to the fuperiority of the bowmen under its banners, and the Londoners themselves were jealous of their reputation in this martial accomplishment. For the last fifty years, notwithstanding the warlike nature of the times, the practice of the bow, in the intervals of peace, had been more neglected than seemed wife to the rulers. Both the king and his loyal city had of late taken much pains to enforce the due exercise of 'Goddes inftrumente,' upon which an edict had declared that the liberties and honour of England principally rested!' *** The butts, formed of turf, with a small white mark faftened by a very minute peg, were placed apart, one at each end, at the distance of eleven score yards. At the extremity, where the fhooting commenced, the crowd affembled, taking care to keep clear from the oppofite butt, as the warning word of 'Faft' was thundered forth; but eager was the general murmur, and many were the wagers given and accepted, as fome well-known archer tried his chance. Near the butt that now formed the target, ftood the marker with his white wand; and the rapidity with which archer after archer discharged his fhaft, and then, if it miffed, hurried across the ground to pick it up (for arrows were dear enough not to be lightly loft), amidst the jeers and laughter of the bystanders, was highly animated and diverting. As yet, however, no marksman had hit the white, though many had gone close to it, when Nicholas Alwyn ftepped forward; and there was something fo unwarlike in his whole air, so prim in his gait, fo careful in his deliberate furvey of the shaft, and his precife adjustment of the leathern gauntlet that protected the arm from

the painful twang of the ftring, that a general burst of laughter from the bystanders attested their anticipation of a signal failure.

""'Fore heaven!' said Montagu, he handles his bow an' it were a yard measure. One would think he were about to bargain for the bow-ftring, he eyes it fo closely.'

"And now,' faid Nicholas, flowly adjusting the arrow, 'a shot for the honour of old Weftmoreland!' And as he spoke, the arrow sprang gallantly forth, and quivered in the very heart of the white. There was a general movement of furprise among the fpectators, as the marker thrice fhook his wand over his head. But Alwyn, as indifferent to their respect as he had been to their ridicule, turned and said, with a significant glance at the filent nobles, We fpringals of London can take care of our own, if

need be.'"

The great feat of Cloudeflie, the William Teil of England, was to shoot the apple from the head of his child in the presence of the king. The skilful archer bound his fon of seven years old to a tree, placed an apple on the child's head, measured one hundred and twenty yards from the stake, entreated the spectators to be filent,

And then drew out a fayre brode arrowe;

Hys bowe was great and longe,

He set that arrowe in his bowe

That was both styffe and stronge.

Then Cloudeslie cleft the apple in two,
As many a man myght see.
"Over God forbode," sayde the kynge,

"That thou sholde shote at me."

ROBIN HOOD.

T was natural that in the midft of all the
"merrie - makynge and the harvest
feafts of olden times, our
our ancestors
fhould have loved the memory of the
good and bold "Robyn Hode,"—as
well as of that trio of liberty-loving
Saxons, who years before had refifted

and defied, in the faftneffes of their

forest-homes, the encroachments of Norman conquerors. William and his fucceffors would have made of the broad lands of England only one vaft hunting field, and would have governed the vanquished people by the curfew-bell and a game law. But Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudeflie, -all honour to their memories!-laughed at the King's laws, and flew and ate the Plantagenets' venifon defpite his cruel

F

edicts.

Later, when England's liberties appeared to have fallen for ever on the fatal field of Evesham, and "freedom fhrieked " when the brave Simon de Montfort was flain in bloody fight, the old Abbot of St. Colomb faid that "Robert Hood lived an outlawe among the woodland copfes and thickets," cherishing there that love of liberty which has fince made England "great, glorious, and free." What would we not now give to fee Little John and Friar Tuck, in their forest haunts,-this band of outlaws, clad in their Lincoln green, their bows flung over their shoulders, and Robin tenderly leading his beloved Maid Marian through the forest of Sherwood? It must have been a life of joyous excitement, and we might imagine that Shakespeare had put into the mouth of Amiens, when in the funny glades of Arden, fome fong of the outlaws which tradition had preferved to his time :

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall we see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

The banished Duke, represented in the wondrous drama of "As you Like It," living in his fylvan retirement, is but a picture of the brave Earl of Huntingdon,-our own Robin Hood of Sherwood forest. "Where will the old Duke live?" asks Oliver. (c They fay he is already in the forest of Arden, and

a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England, and fleet the time careleffly as they did in the golden world." Let the elegant sketch of Drayton tell of Robin Hood, that,

In this our spacious isle, I think there is not one,
But he hath heard some talk of him and Little John;
And to the end of time, the tales shall ne'er be done
Of Sherlock, George-a-green, and Much the miller's son ;
Of Tuck, the merry friar, which many a sermon made
In praise of Robin Hood, his outlaws and their trade.
An hundred valiant men had this brave Robin Hood
Still ready at his call, that bowmen were right good;
All clad in Lincoln green, with caps of red and blue,
His fellow's winded horn not one of them but knew,
When setting to their lips their little bugles shrill
The warbling echoes waked from every dale and hill.
Their bauldricks set with studs, almost their shoulders cast,
To which under their arms their shafts were buckled fast t;
A short sword at their belt, a buckler scarce a span,
Who struck below the knee, not counted there a man :
All made of Spanish yew, their bows were wondrous strong :
They not an arrow drew, but was a cloth-yard long.

And of these archers brave, there was not any one,
But he could kill a deer his swiftest speed upon,
Which they did boil and roast, in many a mighty wood,
Sharp hunger the fine sauce to their more kingly food.
Then taking them to rest, his merry men and he
Slept many a summer's night under the greenwood tree.
From wealthy abbots' chests, and churls' abundant store,
What oftentimes he took he shared amongst the poor:

No lordly bishop came in lusty Robin's way,

To him before he went, but for his pass must pay.

The widow in distress he graciously relieved,