of the West, a famous wrestler and carpenter in Chancery-lane, the other a pewterer of London." It is also mentioned as a graceful tribute to the prowess of the west country ladies that "two women also tooke a prisoner.” The Cornish people, Symonds remarks, "speake good and playne English"-which is more than they do now; "most of the gentry live towards the south sea."

Sunday, 4th August.-The following is a graphic description of a successful raid: "Some of the country people came and complained to the king that the enemye was plundering the country, and desired ayde. The king sent a party of horse of Colonel Nevil's regiment, commanded by Sir Bernard Gascoigne, an Italian, who troopes with Colonel Nevil, and the colonel went with him as a voluntier. They mett with a boy, who told them of a many of gay men at the Lord Mohun's howse (Boconnock). Notwithstanding they had eighty musquiteires to guard them, as they were caressing, they forced the doores upon them, killed the man that locked the doore, broke up the howse, took Colonel Aldridge, who was governor of Aylesbury, the leiftenant colonel, captain, and one ensign of Essex his Life Guard, and another leiftenant colonel, without the losse of any one of his majesties party. This howse was within two myles of Essex his head quarters. Dalbein, a Dutchman, quarter master general of Essex his army, and engineer, was in this howse with those rebels, but putt off his sword and hatt and pretended to be servant to the howse of my Lord Mohun, and so escaped."

Thursday, 8th August.-The whole army of the king's lay upon Brodock Down, about 16,000 horse and foot. The "forlorne of 1000 foot was commanded by Colonel Appleyard. "This morning the Lord Wilmot, leift. general of the horse, was comitted" (viz. to Exeter Castle). The charges against this general are subsequently stated-viz. endeavouring to possess the officers of his majesty: 1. With contempt of his majesty's person; 2. With prejudice against the sincerity of his majesty's intentions for the good of his people; 3. Endeavouring to draw men to revolt from their allegiance.

The disgrace of Wilmott appears to have been unpopular in the army, for it immediately produced the following remarkable petition, dated 8th August:

THE HUMBLE PETICION OF YOUR MAJESTIES OLD HORSE

"HUMBLY SHEWETH,-That, whereas they have had the honour long to serve your majestie under the command of the Lord Wilmott, of whose just loyall intentions they conceive they have had some demonstracion, but now, to their great amazement, and almost to distracion, find him fallen to your majesties displeasure and suspition. And although they intend not to arrogate unto themselves a liberty of searching into your majesties designs, or disputing your commands, yet they most humbly beg your pardon if they believe it a right they owe themselves and your majesties service to request they may receive some present light of this buisnes from your majestie, that they may not have reason to suspect themselves partakers of his crymes, having ben by your majesties orders executors of his commands; and wee hope for such satisfaction from your majesties justice in this particular as may encourage your peticioners to

go on with the same zeale to your service as they have hitherto expresse in the hazard of their lives and fortunes, and in their prayers for your prosperity, which shall ever be continued by

"Your Majesties most humble," &c.

This petition produced "our answere to the officers of our old Horse," wherein, after a tribute to their services, the charges against Lord Wilmott are set out. He subsequently left the kingdom without trial. Many skirmishes took place on this (8th August) and the next day, but "no buisnes of noate done. This evening his highnes Prince M. and the Generall the Earle of Forth sent a lettre (subscribed likewise by the chiefe officers) to Essex for a treaty, by a trumpeter." To which Essex replied on Saturday, as follows:

"MY LORDS,-In the begining of your lettre you express by what authority you send it. I having no authority to treat without the Parliament who have entrusted me, cannot doe it without breach of trust. "Your humble servant,

"From Listothiel, August 10, 1644.”

"ESSEX.

"There was preached" (by whom is not stated) " a sermon on Sunday before the king at Boconnoc Church, speaking against Popery; that one of the greatest arguments against them is the denyall of reading the Scriptures, for how can that be an honest guardian that will not suffer the heire to looke into his father's will?”

Sir Richard Grenville now joined the royal forces, and they proceeded to execute many strategic movements with the view to drive Essex out of Lostwithiel and hem him in at Fowey. The king had his head-quarters at Boconnoc, but on Saturday, 17th August, went to Lantegles, "where his royall person ventred to goe into a walke there which is within halfe muskett shott from Foye, where a poore fisherman was killed in looking over at the same time that his majesty was in the walke, and in the place where the king a little afore passed by."

Here is a significant anecdote of Lord Roberts (Robartes), who, it must be remembered, was a rebel leader, "his ancestors having engrossed the sale of Tyn, grew to be worth many thousands (300,000l.), his sonn was squeezed by the court in King James his time of 20,000l., so was made a baron, and built the house at Lanhedriak (Lanhydrock), now the seate of this Lord Roberts." The next few days are occupied by incessant skirmishes, with varying success, but the royal councils are characterised by anything but firmness. There is strong evidence of vacillation; the troops were short of provisions, and scattered in every direction about the country, foraging for themselves. It could hardly seem that Essex had much to fear from such a force, but he must have been in still worse condition, for on Saturday, the 31st August, he confessed to being in difficulties by executing the escape of his cavalry in a fog; the royal horse followed them, but too late; the rebels escaped. Then it was that Charles, "with those foot he had (which, God knowes, were very few, most of them being stragled abroad the country for provision)," inflicted a severe defeat on the rebels in a battle that took place close by

Tywardreath parish church. That night Charles lay under a hedge in the field; and the next morning, the rebels being quite surrounded, and deserted by Essex and Roberts, sent, through Shippon, their now commander, propositions of treaty to his majesty, who, "out of his abundant mercie, was pleased to give them leave to march away on these conditions leaving all their cannon, which were in all 42, and 1 morter; all their musquetts and pikes, which were (blank); all their cariages, except one to a regiment; to march away with their colours, and foot officers with their swords; those officers of horse with swords, hatbands, and pistolls. A waggon full of musquet arrowes, 100 barrels of powder fell into our hands."

On Monday, the 2nd September, the king's army was drawn up to see the rebels march past. "It rayned extremely hard as the varlets marched away. The king himselfe ridd about the feild, and gave strict command to his cheife officers to see that none of the enemye were plundered." But, nevertheless, the officers were obliged to keep the common soldiers off with their swords. Those who escaped receiving maltreatment by the victorious army, were plundered by the country people, "whom they have in all the march so much plundered and robd that they will have their pennyworths out of them." This is a vivid description of the panic-stricken rebel army: "They all, except here and there an officer (and, seriously, I saw not above three or four that looked like a gentleman), were stricken with such a dismal feare, that as soone as the colours of their regiment was passt, the rout of soldiers of that regiment presst all of a heape like sheepe-though not so innocent. So durty, and so dejected, was rare to see. None of them, except some few of their officers, that did look any of us in the face."

A document found in the pocket of one of the common soldiers at Lostwithiel gave an account of Essex's route to the west, concluding with "Bodman to Listidwell, August 2nd," to which our author gravely adds, "from thence like rogues to the divell."

From Pelynt Church, Cornwall, our author takes the following anagram, apparently from a monument to Edward Trelawnye, who died June 7, 1630:

Likewise :

WEE WANDER, ALTER, DYE.

Oh what a vapour, bubble, puffe of breath,
A neast of wormes, a lumpe of pallid earth
Is mudwald man; before we mount on high,
Wee cope with change, wee wander, alter, dye.

Here lyes an honest Lawyer, wott you what,
A thing for all, ye world to wonder at.

The following verses occur immediately after the description of Pelynt Church, and are stated as occupying a page of themselves in the manuscript:

Farewell fond Love, under whose childish whip
I have served out a weary 'prentiship,
Thou that hast made me thy scorned property,
To dote on those that love not, and to fly
Love that woo'd me; goe, bane of my content,
And practice on some other patient.

Farewell fond Hope, that fann'd my warme desir
Till it had raysed it to unruly fire,

Which nor sighes could, nor thoughts extinguish can,
Although mine eyes outflow'd an ocean.
Forth of my thoughts for ever, thing of ayre,

Begun in errour, finisht in despaire;

Farewell fond world, upon whose restles stage,
Twixt Love and Hope, I have fool'd out an age;
Ere I will sue to thee for my redresse,
Ile woo the wynd and court the wildernes,
And buried from the dayes discovery
Studdy some slow but certayn way to dye;
My wofull monument shalbe a cell,

The mourning of the purling brooke my bell,
And for my epitaph the rocks shall groane
Eternally; if any aske the stone

What wretched thing doth in that concave lye,
The hollow echo shall reply: 'Tis I.

We question whether Cornwall can now produce verses superior to

these.

STEREOSCOPIC GLIMPSES.

BY W. CHARLES KENT.

XI.-WORDSWORTH AT RYDAL.

A GENTLEMAN of Nature's homeliest mould,
Clothed in the garb of-not the Age of Gold,
But the stiff raiment of-this later time,
When worth is broadcloth, and when rags are crime.
A gaunt, tall shape, without one touch of grace;
A simple, sentient, patriarchal face:

Meek eyes, that view all life with looks of peace;
Grave lips, whose smiles are blessings of increase.
A dark coat buttoned o'er his quaker vest;
His knitted hands on calm crossed knees at rest;
His silvery locks, on saddened brows revealed,
No more beneath th' ungainly hat concealed,
Now placed beside his large, loose-jointed feet-
He sits and thinks in this dear home retreat.
Here sits and broods on Earth's neglected things-
The merest midge on gauzy, fragile wings;
The atom pollen, floating from the bloom-
Dust-seed of flower-dye, verdure and perfume;
The wayside boulder, flecked with lichen stains,
Like "frozen dreams" on wintry lattice panes ;
The gnat's far bugle sounding by his ear;
The clinking scythe-hone heard across the mere;
Sweet zephyrs blown through new-mown meadow hay
Past thymy barrow and faint fading may.
His mind the microscopic lens that shows

The hidden charms its crystal depths disclose

March-VOL. CXVIII. NO. CCCCLXXI.

Y

Such are the sights, the sounds, the scents that stir
His thrilling heart-strings like a dulcimer
With hushed vibrations latent in its chords,
Waking to music in melodious words!
Thus rapt in meditative awe he scans,
With humble gaze, the great creative plans;
Yet, even as incense melts into the skies,

From homeliest themes his soaring fancies rise:

His calm soul yearns through God's blue heaven above,
And clasps the hills with spirit-arms of love.
The philosophic scope of his grand art
Embracing all through each minutest part
Infers from veriest shred the mighty whole,
From lowliest herb or from ignoblest soul.
Say, through a blossom he would fain adore
The
power divine that pulsates at each pore,
His footsteps fly to "fields and pastures" old
In lays the little celandine to enfold,

To lift it from the mead's maternal breast
With reverent care, and bind it on his crest-
Beloved as sprig of broom by valour set
On hero-helm of first Plantagenet.
Is it some type of the great human race
He on idyllic pedestal would place?
Not now anointed King or Sage his choice,
Not one with sceptred grasp or wisdom's voice;
He takes some toil-worn labourer from the plain,
With horny hand, who guides the tinkling wain;
Selects, where others might some prince prefer,
A Peter Bell, or stalwart waggoner.

Whose utterance fills his sense with sudden joys?
The prattling child's, the very idiot boy's!
What enterprise inspires his noblest strains?
A calm Excursion through green English lanes!
Whence hath he drawn emotions most profound?
Ev'n from scarce-noted subtleties of Sound!
Where turn those looks that tender teardrops dim?
On primrose, more than primrose flower for him!
This is no Petrarch crowned in pomp with bays,
Hymned in his glory by a nation's praise.
Here is no bearded Harper, robed in white,
Chanting proud feats of arms in hall of knight.
'Tis but a Bard of Nature, whose wise tongue
Through all his life God's infinite love hath sung
Sung in such numbers as renown ensure

Through thoughts congealed in verse as amber pure.
Thus, guileless Seer! sweet Earth's green leaves thy lore,
In rhythmic tones thy spells benignant pour:

While round thee healthful fumes each blossom breathes,
Its magic ring the glorious landscape wreathes!
The marvellous mirror where, divinely glassed,
Shine the weird future and the wondrous past,
Thy Fancy!-where to vital beauty springs
A mystic throng of bright imaginings!
A voluble pencil for thy wand of power
Preserves with varying grace each fleeting hour,
While scribbled tablets for thy scrolls of fame
Blazon at once and verify thy name!