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not be met with so many objections: and before I was hardly aware of the thing, was actually on the lawn in front of my friend's cottage. I was received with a serious welcome, I say serious, because my friend's fare had a sombre cast, while his shake of the hand implied I am rejoiced to see you.

It was a fine fresh morning, and I as hungry as a ploughman, and fain would have done more than looked at some "roast or boiled." The clock struck eight on my arrival, eleven, and breakfast was served up in due form. I looked about-nó butter a few dry biscuits and salt fish! I made no remarks, expecting every moment to see the servant with butter and eggs, for both of which my friends were famed, and of which I anticipated a quantum sufficit; at last I made bold to ask for both: my friends were shocked, the elder looking at me with surprise, exclaimed, "Know you not it is Lent? It immediately struck me that I was among Catholics, and I had already formed the resolution of quitting this house of fasting, when one of the younger hinted to the father that I was a traveller. Now travellers I find are allowed to gormandize, and so might I have done, but this would have disarranged the family regularity, and I, desirous of giving as little trouble as possible, was content to fare as they did. Dinner time-(guess my surprise!) the table actually groaned under the weight of good things. Fish of every sort in season-pies, tarts, custards, and every delicacy, to surfeit, in the fruit way. (here's fasting with a vengeance thought 1.) I naturally asked, what made the crusts so rich? "only butter" was the reply, "Bless me!" I exclaimed, "I thought butter was prohibited in Lent." "Aye, in its unpurified state; but that which has been heated in the furnace is purified." Very feasable, thought I, so that it satisfy the conscience. Thus fared we through Lent, but not to the satisfaction of all parties, for many a sigh was heard, and many a wish that Lent were past, moved over the lip of each in turn, as the vision of more substantial viands dawned in the perspective. Observing this, I thought to myself of the girl who became a convert, that afterwards wished she had not been reformed till the fair was over: a fine proof truly of her reformation.

I do not mean to say there never was an exception to the above, for I verily believe there are as many good Catholics as Protestants, but where abstinence is to partake of every luxury, to do penance an irksome task, instead of pleasant duty,

and the heart saddens when it should be joyous, as the hour of fasting approaches. I say, that religion is little better than a mockery. Yours, NIM.

THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE TO PRINCE LEOPOLD. THE following lines were written by the late lamented Princess Charlotte as an inscription for a papier machee snuff box, intended as a present to Prince Leopold. The box had on the lid a portrait of Her Royal Highness, from Hayter's excellent likeness. The inscription was written on white satin, and inserted in the inside of the lid.

To Claremont's terrac'd heights and Esher's groves,

Where in the sweetest solitude embraced, By the soft windings of the silent mole, From courts and cities, Charlotte finds

repose.

Enchanting vale! beyond whate'er the

muse

Has of Achaia or Hesperia sung;
A vale of bliss! O softly swelling hills,
On which the power of cultivation lies,
And joys to see the wonder of his toil.

ON THE MISLETOE.

(For the Mirror.)

THE misletoe is a remarable plant, as not growing in the earth, or soil, but upon the trunks or branches of other plants, mostly on those of the soft-wooded tree sorts, very often found in woods and orchards, in the ash, the hazel, the maple, the crab, and the apple tree. It is of the porasitic kind. It has a woody branchy growth and yellowish-green appearance, producing white transparent berries of a considerable size, which ripen themselves in the winter. It is for the most part increased by the seeds which are accidentally dispersed and deposited upon some parts of the trees by means of birds, commonly taking root and fixing themselves on the under sides of the boughs or branches, to which parts they have been washed by the rains or in other ways, being kept in such situations until they strike root, or plant their radical fibres in the bark between it and the wood, by their soft glutinous quality; the young plants growing downwards in a pendulous manner. The plants may also be propagated in garden or orchard plantations, by procuring some fully ripened berries or seeds in the winter, and sticking or rubbing them on the smooth parts of the under sides of the branches of some of the above kinds of trees, where they will grow as already noticed. They

are chiefly grown for curiosity; but sometimes for medicinal purposes. It is found throughout Europe, and flowers in Spring. A sort of bird-lime is made of the viscid pulp of the berries. It is supposed to be the golden bough of Virgil, which was Æneas's passport to the infernal regions, and the sacred plant of the Druids still retains some respect in our churches and kitchens at Christmas, intermixed with holly.* The misletoe in Botany belongs to Viscum,+ and is called Viscum album. The oaks of the Arcadian mountains contain the true ancient misletoe, called Loranthus europeus; which still serves to make bird-lime; whilst our misletoe, in Greece grows only on the silver fir perhaps this circumstance accounts for the old preference of such misletoe as grows on the oak, among the ancient Britons, and consequently help us to trace the origin of their superstition to Greece.

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Etatis 30. Looked back through a vista of 10 years-remembered that at 20 1 looked upon a man of 30 as a middle aged man-wondered at my error and protracted the middle age to 40—said to myself 40 is the age of wisdom" flected generally upon my past life--wished myself 20 again, and exclaimed "if I were but 20 what a scholar I could be by 30! but it's too late now"-looked in the glass-still youthful but getting rather fat-Smellfungus says "A fool at 40 is a fool indeed"-40 therefore must be the age of wisdom.

31. Read in the Morning Chronicle that a watchmaker in Paris aged 31 had shot himself for love! more fool the watchmaker agreed that nobody fell in love after 20-Quoted Sterne-The expression fall in love, evidently showe love

to be bencath a man-went to Drury Lanesaw Miss Incumpips in a side box

fell in love with her received her ultimatum-was three months making up my mind (a long time for making up so small a parcel) when I learnt that she had eloped with a title-pretended to be devilish glad took three turns up and down the library and looked in glass-getting rather fat and florid-Met a friend in Gray's Inn who said I was evidently in rude health-thought the compliment much ruder.

32. Passion for dancing rather on th decline voted sitting out play and farce, one of the impossibilities still in stage box three nights per week-sympathized with the public in their vexation at my non attendance the other three - can't please every body-began to wonder at the pleasure of kicking one's heels on a chalked floor 'till four in the morningsold bay mare who reared at three carriages and shook me out of the saddlethought saddle making rather worse than formerly-hair growing thin, bought a bottle of tricosian fluid-mem. a flattering unction.'

33. Hair thinner-serious thoughts of a wig-met an old collegian who wears one devil in a bush serious thoughts of letting it alone-met a fellow Etonian in the Mall, who told me I wore well! wondered what he could mean gave up cricket club on account of the bad air about Paddington-could not run in without being out of breath.

34. Measured for a new coat-tailor proposed fresh measure, hinted something about bulk-old measure too shortparchment shrinks-shortened my morning ride to Hampstead and Highgate, and wondered what people could see at Hendon determined never to marry-means dubious and expensive-counted eighteen bald heads in the pit at the opera-so much the better-the more the merrier.

35. Tried on an old great coat, and found it an old little one-cloth shrinks as well as parchment-red face in putting on shoes, bought a shoe horn-Remember quizzing uncle George for using onethen young and foolish-brother Charles's wife lay-in of her eighth child!-served him right for marrying so young as 21age of discretion too!-hunting belts for gentlemen hung up in glovers' windowslonged to buy one but saw two ladies in shop cheapening elastic ties three grey hairs in eye-brows.

36. Several grey nairs in whiskers all owing to carelessness in manufacturing shaving soap-remember thinking father an old man at 36-settled the point-men aged sooner in former dayslaid blame

on flapped waistcoats and tie wigs— skaited on Serpentine-gout-very foolish exercise, only fit for boys gave skaits to Charles's eldest boy.

37. Fell in love again-rather pleased to find myself not too old for the passion -Emma only 19 what then? women require protectors-day settled-devilishly frightened too late to get off-luckily jilted, Emma married cousin James one day before me again determined never to marry-turned off old tailor, and took to a new one in Bond-street-some of those fellows make a man look ten years younger not that that was the reason. 38. Stuck rather more to dinner parties gave up country dancing-money musk certainly more fatiguing than formerly fiddlers play too quick quadrilles stealing hither over the channel thoughts of adding to "grown gentlemen taught to dance"a friend dubbed me one of the over-growns-very impertinent and utterly untrue.

39. Quadrilles rising-wondered sober mistresses of families would allow their carpets to be beat after that fashion. Dinner parties increasing-found myself gradually tontineing it towards the top of the table dreaded ultima thule of Hostesses elbow good place for cutting turkies bad for cutting jokes-wondered why I was always desired to walk up met two school-fellows at Pimlico both fat and red-faced-used to say at school they were both of my age what lies boys tell!

40. Looked back ten years remember at thirty thinking forty a middle aged man-must have meant fifty. Fifty certainly the age of wisdom-determined to be wise in ten years wished to learn music and Italian. Tried logics-'twould not do-no defect in capacity-but those things should be learnt in childhood.

41. New furnished chambers-looked in new glass-chin still double art of glass making on the decline sold my horse, and wondered people could find any pleasure in being bumped-what were legs made for ?

42. Gout again that disease certainly attacks young people more than formerly -caught myself at a rubber of whist, and blushed-tried my hand at original composition, and found a hankering after epigram and satire wondered I could never write love sonnets-imitated Horace's Ode, Ne sit Anulla-did'nt mean any thing serious thought Susan certainly civil and attentive.

43. Bought a hunting belt--braced

myself 'till ready to burst-corpulency not to be trifled with threw it aside young men, now a day, is much too small in the waist-read in the Morning Post"A never failing specific-bought itnever the thinner though much the thicker.

44. Met Fanny Stapylton, (now Mrs. Meadows,) at Bullock's Museum-twenty-five years ago wanted to marry herwhat an escape!-women certainly age much sooner than men Charles's eldest son began to think himself a man starched cravat and a cane !—what presumption at his years I was a childsuppose he will soon be thinking of a wife-hinted my apprehension to brother Charles, but did'nt like his knowing look when he asked what benefit I had derived from prudent delay-thought of his eight children, but spared his feelings.

45. A few wrinkles about the eyes, commonły termed crows' feet-must have caught cold-began to talk politics, and shirk the drawing room-eulogized Garrick-saw nothing in Kean-talked of Lord North-wondered at the licentiousness of the modern press-why can't people be civil, like Junius and John Wilkes, in the good old times?

46. Rather on the decline, but still handsome and interesting-growing dislike to the company of young men all of them talk too much or too littlebegan to call chambermaids at inns "my dear"-listened to a homily from a married friend, about family expenses-price of bread, and butcher's meat-did'nt care a jot if bread was a shilling a roll, and meat fifty pounds a calf-hugged myself in "single blessedness"-and wished him good morning.

47. Top of head quite bald-pleaded Lord Grey in justification-shook it on reflecting I was but three years removed from the age of wisdom-teeth sound, but not so white as heretofore-something the matter with the dentifrice-began to be cautious in chronology-bad thing to remember too far back-had serious thoughts of not remembering Miss Farrer.

48. Quite settled not to remember Miss Farrer told Laura Willis that Palmer, (who died when I was nineteen), cer tainly did not look forty-three.

49. Resolved never to marry for any thing but money or rank.

50. Age of wisdom-married my cook! It would be tedious to pursue them beyond this critical period. May this brief chronicle of my dear bought experience prove abundantly useful.

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In the second volume of the MIRROR, p. 298, we gave a legendary history of the far-famed St. Winifred's Well, of which we now present an engraving, with some additional particulars of a more topographical description.

St. Winifred's Well in Flintshire, is one of the finest springs in the world, and gives the name to the town. The well pours out each minute, twenty-one tons of water, which runs through the middle of the town, is made use of by every house as it passes, after which it turns several mills, and is employed in various manufactures, which greatly increase the population of the place, and its neighbourhood. Over the spring, where a handsome bath has been erected, is a neat chapel, supported by pillars, and on the windows are painted the chief events of St. Winifred's, or, as it was anciently written, Wenefrede's life. About the well grows moss, which the ignorant and superstitious devotees most stupidly imagine to be St. Winifred's hair. This saint is reported to have been a virgin martyr, who lived in the seventh century, and, as the legend says, was ravished and beheaded in this place by a pagan tyrant: the spring having miraculously risen from her blood. Hence this bath was much frequented by Popish pilgrims, out of devotion, as well as by those who came to bathe in it for medicinal purposes. Mr. Pennant says, "the custom of visiting this well in pilgrimage, and offering up devotions there, is not yet entirely laid aside in the summer a few are still to be seen in the water, in deep devotion,

up to their chins for hours, sending up their prayers, or performing a number of evolutions round the polygonal well."

It might have been supposed that the present enlightened age would have been secure against a repetition of impostures of this kind; but Doctor Milner, a Catholic bishop, of Wolverhampton, has taken much pains to persuade the world that an ignorant proselyte, of the name of Winefred White, was there cured of various chronic diseases so late as the year 1804, by a miracle.

CHRISTMAS CAROL

BY THE HONOURABLE R. SPENCER.

BE merry all, be merry all,
With holly dress the festive hall;
Prepare the song, the feast, the ball,

To welcome merry Christmas.
And, oh! remember, gentles gay,
For you who bask in fortune's ray,
The year is all a holiday,

The poor have only Christmas. When you with velvets mantl'd o'er, Defy December's tempest's roar, Oh! spare one garment from your store,

To clothe the poor at Christmas. From blazing loads of fuel, while Your homes with in-door summer smile Oh! spare one faggot from the pile,

To warm the poor at Christmas. When you the costly banquet deal To guests who never famine feel; Oh! spare one morsel from your meal, To feed the poor at Christmas.

;

When gen'rous wine your care controuls,
And gives new joy to happiest souls;
Oh! spare one goblet from your bowls,
To cheer the poor at Christmas.

So shall each note of mirth appear
More sweet to Heav'n than praise or
pray'r,

And angels in their carols there

Shall bless the rich at Christmas.

SPIRIT OF THE

Public Journals.

CASTLE BUILDERS.

It is well for man that his mental amusements are frequently calculated for restoring his intellectual faculties when they are wearied with exertion; and not a little singular that this renovation should be sometimes effected by the exercise of those functions which have been most recently in use. The mind, perhaps, never really tires; it is only the corporeal organs, through which impressions are received, that suffer fatigue, and require intervals of rest. Suppose we are exhausted ever so much by thinking on an abstruse subject for a long time together: let us lay it by and commence building castles in the air, we at once forget our exhaustion, lucid forms come before us, a fairy region opens to our view glittering with unrivalled splendours, bright suns scatter with their golden rays the lassitude that oppressed us, we make for ourselves a little heaven, and enjoy its glories, all nature and art, the worlds of truth and fiction, lay their wealth before us, and the mind recovers itself in the enjoyment of its own air-woven paradise, and finds relaxation from what appears to be almost the cause of its suffering. I am fond of castle-building; and who is not? It is delightful to lay one's head on the pillow at night, and rear these airy edifices, which, though flimsy fabrics, it must be granted, amuse and restore the mind at the time we are at work upon them. Those who cannot thus indulge, may be very safely put down for dull unimaginative beings, having no buoyancy, mere ponderous clods" leaden souls that love the ground." The castle-builder's is a region

of calm and serene air Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth.

He may visit the "sphery chime," command time, and subdue space. He may surmount physical impossibility, and with inexhaustible ardour follow his object over every impediment. Neither dun geons nor bars, situation nor climate, can

rob him of his recreation.-Castle-building, to be brief, is an enjoyment less liable to be disturbed by external appliances than any other. It is essentially a thing of mind, an intellectual banquet. On retiring to rest when sleep flies from us, during a morning walk, or in an afterdinner chair, it is delightful to give place to this beguiler of mental ennui. The subject will necessarily always prove an agreeable one. Last night, after a series of complicated operations, and begging a question or two, I cut an excellent canal, from the Nicaragua lake into the Pacific ocean, communicating with the gulph of Nicoya. I calculated all probable obstacles, and soon overcame them. I entered into a treaty with the local government. I took levels, built my locks, and finally, in an hour or two, rendered the navigation a matter of small difficulty for vessels of six or seven hundred tons. I drew for money to carry on my work upon the sums allotted and expended for Northern expeditions, which I again collected into masses for my purpose, and found that I was possessed of ample funds; that Capt. Parry need labour no more among the Polar ice, that our merchants might ship goods to Panama via the gulph of Florida, and receive their returns in little more than the short space of time required for a Jamaica voyage, and that the East India Company might trade to China, and import teas and mandarins by the route of Cape Blanco. I had at last the satisfaction of seeing a British squadron, consisting of three-deckers, pass through my canal into the Pacific.

It is not a week ago since I purchased Fonthill, and having turned Farquhar and Phillips, and the buyers and jobbers, out of the temple, I completed the edifice on its original model. Here, within a day's journey of the metropolis, and with a property in nubibus not equal to what some of our rich ones possess, I determined to fix my earthly rest, and to labour for posterity. A gallery, as long as any conducting to the halls of Eblis, I devoted to sculpture, and to exact models of the antique. I visited Rome to obtain the casts of ancient works, and those of Michael Angelo and Canova. Another gallery I filled with a noble collection of paintings as numerous as select. Every thing was severely and tastefully arranged, and I suffered no gewgaws and toys of virtu to enter my apartments. No Chinese nor Kamschatkan saloons made even the day-light hideous, but a severe simplicity governed every thing. The great hall I fitted up as a library to contain books of every nation, tongue, and people. The tower was my observatory, and I

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