Hark you, Platt, Say to thy cat, That Knurre-Murre is dead. The tortoiseshell cat was lying on the great wicker chair, and eating his supper of bread and milk out of the red earthenware pipkin when the goodman came in; but as soon as the message was delivered, he jumped upright and kicking the red earthenware pipkin and the rest of the bread and milk before him, he whisked through the cottage door, mewing, "What is Knurre-Murre dead! then I may go home again!" THE ENCHANTED FROGS. THE tale of the frog-lover, given by Dr. Leyden, and popular in Scotland, is known in every part of Germany, under the name of the "King of the Frogs," and is alluded to in several ancient German writers. The rhythmical address of the aquatic lover, who is, of course, an enchanted prince, corresponds in the two languages :- Open the door, my hinny, my heart, All Down in the meadow at the well-spring. These enchanted frogs have migrated from afar; we trace them in a tale forming part of a series of stories, entitled "the Relations of Ssidi Kur," extant amongst the Calmuck Tartars. It appears, that the "adventures which befell the wandering Chan," were originally written in Thibet. The tales of witchery learnt from the wonderful bird Ssidi, are singularly wild and strange, and the scene of the romance is placed in the middle kingdoms of India. the magical machinery of the popular tales of Europe is to be found in these tales, which have a genuine Tartar character; there are wishing-caps, and flying-swords, and hobgoblins, and fairies in abundance. Ssidi also tells a story of a benevolent Brahmin, who receives the grateful assistance of a mouse, a bear, and a monkey, whom he had severally rescued from the hand of their tormentors. A fable founded on nearly the same plot is given in the Gesta Romanorum, though there is a | wide difference in the details. Calila and Dimnah furnishes others of the same class: but we consider it an extraordinary fact, that a fable precisely of the same import, is yet common amongst some of the peasantry in Germany, where, as the Grimms inform us, it has been preserved by tradition, though they do not seem to be aware of its Tartar origin. It will, however, be shown, that even Jack the Giantkiller, is under some obligation to the fictions of the Calmucks. 1 Hearne, the antiquary, insisted that Tom Thumb, the fairy knight, was "King Edgar's page." On ballad authority, we learn that " Tom-a-lyn was a Scotsman born." Now Hearne and the ballad are, it seems, both in the wrong; for Tom-a-lyn, otherwise Tamlane, is no other than Tom Thumb himself, who was originally a dwarf, or dwergar, of Scandinavian descent, being the Thaumlin, that is, little Thumb, of the Northmen. Drayton, who introduces both these heroes in his Nymphidia, seems to have suspected their identity. The German Daumerling, or little Thumb, is degraded to the son of a tailor; he has not much in common with Tom Thumb the Great, except the misfortune to be swallowed by the dun cow, which took place in Germany just as it did in England. This is a traditionary story of the Germans; but there is a little book in the Danish language, analyzed by Professor Nierup, of the university of Copenhagen, who censures it, and perhaps with some degree of justice, as a "very childish history." It treats of "Swain Tomling, a man no bigger than a thumb, who would be married to a woman three ells and three-quarters long." The Danish title-page enumerates other of Tomling's adventures, which are not found in the "history of his marvellous acts of manhood," as preserved in England; the boldness of the swain in venturing on a wife of "three ells and three-quarters" in length, is yet commemorated in the ancient rhyme, which begins, "I had a little husband no bigger than my thumb." According to popular tradition, Tom Thumb died at Lincoln, which, it may be recollected, was one of the five Danish towns of England; we do not, however, therefore intend to insist, that the story was handed down by the northern invaders. There was a little blue flag-stone in the pavement of the minster, "which was shown as Tom's monument," and at which the country-folks never failed to marvel, but during one of the repairs of that venerable building, the flag-stone was displaced and lost, to the great discomfiture of the wonder-hunters. The prose history of Tom Thumb is manufactured from the ballad; and by the introduction of the fairy queen at his birth, and certain poetical touches, which it yet exhibits, we are led to suppose that it is a rifacciamento of an earlier and better original. One of Tom's sports deserves note; it is when, in order to be revenged on his playmates, he took in pleasant game Black pots and glasses, which he hung The other boys to do the same, In pieces broke them quite, For which they were most soundly whipt, At which he laughed outright. The idea of this "pleasant game" is borrowed from the monkish books of the middle ages. It is found not only in one of their early forgeries, but also in the legend of St. Columbanus, who, as we are told, performed a similar miracle, by hanging his garment on a sun beam. THOMAS HICKATHRIFT, afterwards Sir Thomas Hickathrift, Knight, is praised by Hearne as a “famous champion." The honest antiquary has identified this well-known knight with the far less celebrated Sir Frederick de Tylney, of Norfolk, the ancestor of the Tylney family, who was killed at Acon, in Syria, in the reign of Richard Cœur de Lion: "Hycophrie, or Hycothrift," he observes, "being probably a corruption of Frederick." This happy exertion of etymological acumen, is not wholly due to Hearne, who only adopted a hint given by Mr. Philip Le Neve, whilome of the College of Arms; their conjectures, however, accord but slightly with the transition given by the accurate Spelman, in his Icenia. From the most remote antiquity, the fables and achievements of Hickifric have been obstinately credited by the inhabitants of the township of Tylney. "Hickifric" is venerated by them as the assertor of the rights and liberties of their ancestors. The "monstrous giant" who guarded the marsh, was, in truth, no other than the tyrannical lord of the manor, who attempted to keep his copyholders out of the common-field, called Tylney Smeeth; but who was driven away, with his retainers, by the prowess of Tom, armed with only his axle-tree and cartwheel. We have not room to detail the pranks which Tom performed, when his "natural strength, which exceeded twenty common men," became manifest; but they must be noticed as being correctly Scandinavian. Similar were the achievements of the great northern 66 champion Gretter, when he kept geese upon the common, as told in his Saga. Tom's youth evidently retraces the tales of the prowess of the youthful Siegfried, detailed in the Neflunga Saga, and in the book of heroes. It appears from Hearne, that the supposed axle-tree with the superincumbent wheel, was represented on Hycothrift's grave-stone, in Tylney church-yard, in the shape of a cross." This is the form in which all the Runic monuments represent the celebrated hammer or thunderbolt of the son of Odin, which, according to the vulgar fables, shattered the skulls and scattered the brains of so many luckless giants. How far this surmise may be supported by Tom's skill and strength in throwing the hammer, we will not pretend to decide; and if, on the other hand, any of our antiquarian readers should think it right to withhold their assent to the proposition that Thor can be identified with Tom Hickathrift, they may have the full benefit of our doubts. The common people have a happy faculty of seeing whatever they choose to believe, and refusing to see the things in which they disbelieve; it may, therefore, be supposed, that the rude sculpture which the Tylneyites used to call the offensive and defensive arms of their champion, was truly nothing more than a cross, of which the upper part is inscribed in a circle,-a figure often found on ancient sepulchres. THE HOLLY TREE. O READER! hast thou ever stood to see The eye that contemplates it well perceives Ordered by an intelligence so wise No grazing cattle, through their prickly round, But as they grow where nothing is to fear, And in this wisdom of the holly tree Wherewith, perchance, to make a pleasant rhyme, To those who on my leisure would intrude, Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be, All vain asperities, I, day by day, Would wear away; Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the holly tree. And, as, when all the summer trees are seen So bright and green, The holly leaves their fadeless hues display Less bright than they; But when the bare and wintry woods we see, What then so cheerful as the holly tree ?So serious should my youth appear among The thoughtless throng; So would I seem, amid the young and gay, That in my age as cheerful I might be -SOUTHEY. WHO would attempt to chain the wild buffalo with a garland of flowers? He is not more wise who would pacify the brutal and the proud by reason, MAN, WITH REFERENCE TO HIS STRENGTH, HIS FOOD, AND HIS CLOTHING. MAN, by an express arrangement of his Maker, has apparently been constituted a native of temperate climates, and only in these climates can his powers be said to be completely developed. Within the tropics, indeed, human existence is flourishing; for there the immediate bounty of Providence affords to Man a copious and admirably-adapted nutriment. Yet in the midst of that profusion, and without any adequate motive to call forth exertion, his reason too often languishes, while his animal tendencies predominate, and his life is spent in apathy and in sensual gratifications. On the other hand, under the cheerless sky of the frigid zone, imperfectly nourished by scanty and unsuitable food, the powers of his mind, like those of his body, are stunted, or are engaged solely in combating the rigours of his situation. But in the temperate climates the evil consequences of both these extremes are avoided, while the beneficial influences of climate remain. Urged by the stimulus of necessity, and, at the same time, having at his command the astonishing capability of nature, man is, in temperate climates, surrounded by motives of every kind, and his faculties thus attain their utmost developement. As familiar examples of the effect of this expansion of the human reason, let us view Man under three aspects,-namely, with reference to his strength, his food, and his clothing, inclusive of his habitation. In the first place, with regard to his strength. The strength of Man is not only that which is his own, almost infinitely magnified by ingenious mechanical devices of every kind, and of every degree, up to the stupendous agency of steam; Man has, moreover, subdued to his service many of the larger animals, while those he cannot so appropriate he destroys. As weapons, he wields every instrument offensive and defensive, from the rude but effective club or arrow, to the warlike engines to which he has applied the discovery of gunpowder. Whatever his wants require he obtains by tools, from the humble spade to that perfection of machinery, which almost rivals the operations of intelligence itself. In the next place, view Man with reference to his food. What wonders has not his reason enabled him to achieve among the fellow inhabitants of his own temperate climate! In the vegetable kingdom, let us consider the astonishing mutations and increase of the Cerealia, or corn-tribes; the transformation of the sour and forbidding crab into the rich and fragrant apple; of the harsh and astringent sloe into the delicious plum; of the coarse and bitter sea-side brassica into the nutritious and grateful cauliflower; all which changes, and numerous others of a like kind, have been effected by Man. Nor have the transformations which he has produced among animals, been less wonderful than those among vegetables. All the numerous varieties of cattle, of sheep, of horses, of dogs, of poultry, and of all the other animals reared as food, or for any purpose domesticated, have sprung from a few wild and unattractive species, and have been made what they are, in a great degree, by his intervention. Moreover, the most useful of these varieties of animals have been transported by Man into every region of the globe to which he has himself been able to penetrate. Lastly, in the clothing and habitations of Man, the surpassing influence of his reason is equally conspicuous.. For covering his naked body a surface of considerable extent is necessary; larger indeed than is presented by any natural texture unless, perhaps, by the skins of other animals, or by the leaves of some plants, which, therefore, in the rudest states of society, usually constitute his only dress; but, by the art of weaving, he has been enabled to produce garments of any size, and from materials which would seem the least fitted for such conversion. Thus Man can not only clothe himself in any manner, and according to the temperature of the climate in which he lives, but he can associate with the articles of his dress every species of ornament his fancy may dictate. His choice of materials for the construction of dwellings is not less extensive than that of his clothing. As climate, and other circumstances, may require, he abides in an humble cabin or in the splendid palace, in the temporary hut or in the enduring castle, formed to withstand alike the tempest of war and of the clements. Such is Man, and such are a few of those great changes in this world, which, under the guidance of his reason, he has had the power to accomplish. And what a splendid evidence of design, and of preconcerted arrangement on the part of the Great Creator is thus exhibited, by viewing the inherent properties of matter, and its various conditions, with reference to the works of Man! Had water, for instance, not been constituted as it is, Man could never have formed the steam-engine. Had not the productions of the temperate climates been formed with that capability for change by which they are so much distinguished, Man could never have so moulded them to his uses by altering their character. There was no reason why such properties should have been communicated; there was even no reason why the objects in which these properties exist, should have been created; but they have been so created,-and what are we to infer? No one, surely, will now maintain, that the objects of nature possessing these properties have been the result of chance, or have been created without an end. They must, therefore, have been created with design; and, if with design, most obviously with design, having reference to the being Man, not yet in existence. [PROUT's Bridgewater Treatise.] Ir has been often remarked, that in sickness there is no hand like a woman's hand, no heart like a woman's heart; and there is not. A man's breast may swell with unutterable sorrow, and apprehension may rend his mind; yet place him by the sick couch, and in the shadow rather than the light of the sad lamp that watches it; let him have to count over the long, dull hours of night, and wait, alone and sleepless, the struggle of the gray dawn into the chamber of suffering; let him be, appointed to this ministry even for the sake of the brother of his heart, or the father of his being, and his grosser nature, even where it is most perfect, will tire; his eye will close, and his spirit grow impatient of the dreary task; and, though love and anxiety remain undiminished, his mind will own to itself a creeping-in of irresistible selfishness, of which indeed he may be ashamed, and which he may struggle to reject, but which, despite all his efforts, remains to characterize his nature, and prove, in one instance, at least, his manly weakness.-But see a mother, a sister, or a wife, in this place. The woman feels no weariness, and owns no recollection of self. In silence, and in the depth of night, she dwells, not only passively, but so far as the qualified term may express our meaning, joyously. Her ear acquires a blind man's instinct, as, from time to time it catches the slightest stir, or whisper, or breath of the now-more-than-ever loved-one who lies under the hand of human affliction. Her step, as in obedience to an impulse or a signal, would not waken a mouse; if she speaks, her accents are a soft echo of natural harmony, most delicious to the sick's man's car, conveying all that sound can convey of pity, comfort, and devotion: and thus, night after night, she tends him like a creature sent from a higher world, when all earthly watchfulness has failed-her eye never THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE. AN unrestrained volubility and wantonness of speech, is the occasion of numberless evils and vexations in life. It begets resentment in him who is the subject of it; sows the seed of strife and dissension amongst others; and inflames little disgusts and offences, which, if let alone, would wear away of themselves: it is often of as bad effect upon the good name of others, as deep envy or malice: and, to say the least of it in this respect, it destroys and perverts a certain equity, of the utmost importance to society to be observed; namely, that praise and dispraise, a good or bad character, should always be bestowed according to desert. The tongue used in such a licentious manner, is like a sword in the hand of a madman; it is employed at random; it can scarce possibly do any good, and for the most part does a world of mischief; and implies not only great folly and a trifling spirit, but great viciousness of mind, great indifference to truth and falsity, and to the reputation, welfare, and good of others.-BISHOP BUTLER. So various is the appetite of animals, that there is scarcely any plant, which is not chosen by some, and left untouched by others. The horse gives up the water-hemlock to the goat. The cow gives up the long-leaved water-hemlock to the sheep. The goat gives up the monk's-hood to the horse, &c. for that which certain animals grow fat upon, others abhor as poison. Hence, no plant is absolutely poisonous, but only respectively. Thus, the spurge, that is noxious to man, is a most wholesome nourishment to the caterpillar. That animals may not destroy themselves for the want of knowing this law, each of them is guarded by such a delicacy of taste and smell, that they can easily distinguish what is pernicious from what is wholesome; and when it happens that different animals live upon the same plants, still one kind always leaves something for the other, as the mouths of all are not equally adapted to lay hold of the grass; by which means there is sufficient food for all. To this may be referred an economical experiment well known to the Dutch, that when eight cows have been in a pasture, and can no longer get nourishment, two horses will do very well there for some days, and when nothing is left for the horses, four sheep will live upon it.-BENJAMIN STILLINGFLEET. ANCIENT YEW TREE, DESTROYED BY THE HURRICANE IN NOVEMBER, 1836. THERE are few objects of nature presenting more real interest to the mind, or richer points of beauty to the eye, than a noble aged tree; and at times these glories of the forest become associated, either from intrinsic character or local situation, with our best and purest feelings. The wonder and beauty of trees is, however, much overlooked. We admire the vast superstructures which man may rear, and, when the temple or the palace may be overthrown, we note and deplore their fall; but those stately sylvan structures which the Almighty architect has reared around our footsteps, and so lavishly adorned, are but little regarded, and their massive trunks fall to the ground, as unheeded as the autumnal leaves from their boughs. Circumstances sometimes rescue from this oblivion a sylvan hero of marked character, and the venerable tree represented in the annexed engraving, has points of interest connected with it claiming this distinction. the church-yard of Dibden, a parish in the purlieu of New Forest, Hampshire. During the severe gale on Tuesday, the 30th of November, 1836, the larger por It is a celebrated Yew which has for ages adorned tion o to the ground; and an object whose picturesque grandeur had long excited the admiration of strangers, and had been associated with many a solemn feeling of the rustic inhabitants, is now, like many of their generations it has seen lowered to the grave, no more seen. Its age is unknown, but evidently it had withstood the storms and tempests of many centuries, and, as one of the venerable fathers of the forest, should not be allowed to pass away unnoticed. In the interesting work of Gilpin, On Forest Scenery, published in 1694, four extraordinary trees are recorded as particularly worthy of notice, within the district of the New Forest, and this now prostrated Yew is one of them. It is thus mentioned: Another tree worth pointing out in New Forest, is an immense Yew, which stands in the church-yard at Dibden. It is now, and probably has been during the course of the last century, in the decline of life; but its hollow trunk still supports three vast stems, and measures below them about thirty feet in circumferance, a girth which, perhaps, no other Yew-tree in England can exhibit. Though its age cannot be ascertained, we may easily suppose it has been a living witness of the funerals of at least a dozen generations of the inhabitants of the parish. But if thus claiming to be specially recorded merely from its picturesque and ancient character, the local situation which it occupied amidst the hallowed precincts of the grave, invests it with high additional interest. It stood casting its full and sombre shadows over the scene of sorrow and decay, silently preaching lessons of comfort and immortal hope. Race after race might view, in this everliving witness of the departure of their friends, a connecting link uniting together sire and son, froni by-gone to long-coming generations; and while frailty and oblivion seemed marked upon all that transpired around it, the bright deep green of its undecaying foliage, admonished of a state where no death, no sorrow, can ever come. any living person, become split down the centre of the trunk, and being thus divided into two parts, it had latterly almost appeared like two distinct trees; the weight of the upper branches had gradually widened the fissure, and at the time of its fall, the intervening space was at the base two feet, and at about two yards from the ground, five feet; but persons now living, remember when, as children, the opening was not sufficiently wide to admit them to creep between the two portions of the trunk. A circumstance which strongly marks the great distance of time when this fissure took place, is presented in the singularly large stems of ivy which had grown up against the interior portions of the trunk. One of these ivy stems measures two feet in circumference at the base, and after ascending seven feet, this gigantic parasitic sends out fantastic limbs, which, entwining around its antique supporter, had in many parts entirely overshadowed its decaying branches. It appears, however, that the support thus obtained has been amply repaid, as upon the fall of the tree, it was discovered, that the still vigorous roots of the ivy had been the only stay that had prevented the overthrow of the Yew many years since, all the larger roots of the latter being quite decayed. This tree measured at the base, taking the exterior circle of the two divisions of the trunk, twenty-five feet; and at three yards from the ground, thirty feet. Its height was forty-one, feet, and some of its branches spread out to a wide extent. It has carried to the ground with it many a tombstone reared beneath its branches, it having been a favourite selected spot. That yew-tree's shade, J. G. LONDON: Published by JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND; and sold by all Booksellers. THE village of Mitford is beautifully situated about two miles west of the town of Morpeth, in Northumberland, on a sort of peninsula formed by the confluence of two streams, the Font and the Wansbeck. The ruins of the Castle occupy the summit of a lofty natural eminence, which rises somewhat abruptly on the southern side of the latter river, at a point a little to the south-west of the village. The parish-church and vicarage, as also the remains of the old manorhouse of Mitford, are situate on the north-west side of the Castle, on a plain which it overlooks; and nearly in the same direction, on the brow of a gentle acclivity that rises gradually from the opposite margin of the Wansbeck, stands the handsome new mansionhouse of Mr. Mitford, the present proprietor of the manor, and an honourable descendant of the noble family of Mitford, which is of great antiquity in Northumberland. Previous to the time of the Norman Conquest, Mitford was a villa and lordship belonging to Sir John Mitford, from whose brother, a Matthew de Mitford, the present Mr. Mitford derives his descent. But shortly after that period it was given to Richard Bertram, a person of noble Norman origin, and a follower of William the Conqueror into England, on his marriage with the only daughter and heiress of the said Sir John Mitford, and subsequently created a barony in the reign of Henry the First. The precise period of the erection of the Castle appears to be involved in much obscurity. Mr. Hodgson, to whose History of Northumberland I am VOL. X. indebted for most of the following particulars, says, no mention of it occurs prior to the Conquest, though he is inclined to think it probable that it existed very soon after that period, for its form and style are purely Norman, and the barony annexed to it paid cornage to the Castle of Newcastle, which was built by William Rufus. With reference to the barony, he says, "Tradition holds her dim torch over it into times prior to the Conquest: the steady rays of history do not begin to beam upon it until the reign of Henry the Second." The Castle and barony of Mitford continued in the possession of the ancient family of Bertram, who held them immediately of the crown by military tenure, till the reign of Henry the Third; when, in the year 1264, the third Roger Bertram having joined the confederate barons who at that time opposed the reigning monarch under the auspices of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, he was taken prisoner at the siege of Northampton, on the 3rd of April in that year, and his Castle of Mitford and all his estates, a considerable part of which he had sold during the time of Montfort's rebellion, were seized and committed to the custody of William de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, the king's half-brother. It is probable, however, they were soon afterwards restored in consideration of a very heavy fine paid for his pardon and ransom; and that the price of his redemption consisted of a material portion of his estates, which, in the year 1269, he conveyed to the Earl of Pembroke, whose descendants we are informed con 296 |