granted; and that nobleman, with about thirty men-at-arms, left Chauvigny, while Sir John and his company remained at the inn, much depressed in spirits for the ill-success of their expedition. Not long after the departure of Lord Percy, news came to Sir John, as he sat with his friends by the fire, that Carnet le Breton and Louis de St. Julien had taken the field in search of him. After some consultation with his companions, he determined to set out and meet them, and leaving Chauvigny, he took the road to Poictiers, along the bank of the river. Shortly after day-break, they approached the bridge of Lussac, upon which Lord Thomas Percy and his party were drawn up on foot to oppose the crossing of the French, who arrived at the bridge just after they had gained it. The French dismounted also, and leaving their horses in the care of their servants, they advanced to attack the English with their lances. At this juncture Sir John Chandos arrived with his banner displayed, and emblazoned with his arms; a pile gules on a field argent, borne by James Allen, a powerful man-at-arms. The French servants, who had been left with their masters' horses, seeing the approach of the English, fled away, and Sir John coming up, be gan to rail at the French in bitter terms, telling them that the day had arrived when they would see which was the strongest. As he spoke, a Breton in the troop of the French knights drew his sword and struck an English 'squire, named Simpkin Dodenhale, from his horse; upon which Sir John, bidding his men dismount, advanced firmly upon the French, although a hoar frost had made the ground slippery, and after rescuing the 'squire attacked them fiercely. Sir John wore over his armour a long surtout of white sarcenet, upon the breast and back of which his arms were embla zoned. The length of this surtout proved fatal to him, for as he advanced upon the French, his legs became entangled in it, and a French 'squire, named Jacques de St. Martin, perceiving this accident, thrust him in the face with his lance as he stumbled forward. The weapon entered below the eye, or rather under the socket, for the Knight had lost an eye while hunting on the heaths of Bordeaux, and penetrated to the brain. Sir John instantly fell, and Froisart says, "turned twice over in great agony, like one who had received his death wound." The French pressing forward attempted to seize him; but his uncle, Sir Edward Clifford, striding across the body, kept them off by the heavy strokes of his sword, so that none came within the sweep of his weapon, without suffering for their temerity. During the skirmish, Lord Thomas Percy, owing to the height of the bridge which interposed between him and the French, had not perceived the combat; but, on the contrary, thinking the enemy had declined the conflict, he drew off his company. The English were like men distracted upon seeing their leader fall, while the French jeered them, crying out," By God, my lords of England, you will all stay with us, for you cannot now escape!" skirmish. Sir John Chandos lived a day and a night in great agony, when death ended his sufferings. He was deeply regretted by the English, and many French knights lamented his loss. Froissart, after relating the manner of his death, says, "God have mercy on his soul! for never since a hundred years, did there exist among the English one more courteous, nor fuller of every virtue and good quality than him." He was buried at Mortemer, and Bouchet gives the following as his Epitaph : Je Jehan Chandault, des Anglois Capitaine, Fort Chevalier, de Poictou Senechal, TABLETS FOR ACTRESSES. (For the Olio.) MISS P. GLOVER.-No. 25. . A wither'd hermit five score winters worn In the mean time, a 'squire of Sir John's thrust his lance through the thighs of the man who had wounded his master, who, nevertheless, continued to fight bravely. Although the English maintained the fight courageously, they were in the end compelled to surrender; when the Poictouvins, who had left their brave, but now, alas! disabled leader at Chauvigny, fortunately Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye. arrived to rescue them. The French being without their horses could not escape, so turning to the English, they besought them to tell the Poictouvins the reverse of what had happened-namely, that the English had defeated and taken them prisoners. The English assented to this, and the Poictouvins shortly arrived with couched lances, shouting their war-cry; but the Bretons and French, retreating on 66 one side, cried out, Stop, my lordswe are prisoners already' Carnet le Breton was prisoner to Sir Bertrand de Cassilies, and Sir Louis de St. Julien to Sir John Chambo. Nothing could exceed the grief of the friends of Sir John Chandos, when they beheld him lying on the ground unable to speak. "Flower of knighthood! .oh, Sir John Chandos! cursed be the forging of that lance which hath thus endangered thy life," were the exclamations of the barons and knights of Poictou, to which he, being unable to articulate, only replied by groans, while those of his household wrung their hands and tore their hair with all the demonstrations of violent grief. After being disarmed by his servants, he was laid upon shields, and borne to the fort of Mortemer; while the other barons and knights returned to Poictiers with their prisoners. Jacques de St. Martin, who wounded Sir John, died a few days after of the wounds he had received in the M. N. DREAM. Much of her mother's face and heart, MADAME SONTAG.-No. 26. She has a good face, speaks well, and has most excellent clothes. PERIC. Determined of the Nine the chief to be; Are more than ears directed to thy calves, In other countries, the delightful arts of peace, and the slow, but splendid progress of cultivation, have almost obliterated the traces of the rude and barbarous ages from the face of the land, but in Ireland they still continue to present their rugged deformity. In England we measure antiquity by improvement, in Ireland by decay. The castles of the Irish warriors, of which so many are still standing, are mouldering away, surrounded-not by the rich effects of modern improvement-but by dreary bogs or badly cultivated fields. The rude glory of the feudal chieftain has passed away, but the wretchedness of the vassal remains; and the miserable cabins around these ruins of former grandeur, cannot have exhibited a greater backwardness of civilization, in the days when plunder was honourable, and industry a reproach. To the eye accustomed to English im provement and cultivation, the first appearance of the surface of the land in Ire land is any thing but encouraging, and one scarcely can believe that the bare unsheltered fields upon which one looks, produce good crops, and pay a high rent. The houses of the gentry are thinly scattered, and, except in their immediate The calves themselves, unconscious, in dis vicinity, trees are not often to be seen. guise. VARIORUM.No. 30. Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. HEN. IV. Even in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, except on the road which runs directly south, along the coast, where the great beauty of the situation has invited gentlemen to build mansions, and to adorn them with plantations, the land is badly fenced with crumbling walls of dry mud, or loose round stones. The surface is uneven and hard looking, and often disgracefully overrun with weeds. The smooth, soft, luxuriant verdure, Must remain till their TABLETS are kindly the waving woods, the splendid seats, The Cawses, not Eldon's; the Carrs, not of The Booths, not at fairs, and the Humbys not hived; With a manifold class, that are yet and have been, contrived. P. the land rich with the culture of centuries, and the substantial comfortable looking houses which make a man warm THE APPEARANCE OF IRELAND, but to look at in England, are not to be IN 1829. seen there. In some districts-in the Queen's county, for example, and the county of Carlow-there is something like the appearance of England, but it is of brief duration. The feeling of pleasure which the appearance of improvement excites, is hardly formed, when some scene of poverty and gross negli gence meets the observation, and renews the sense of deep regret, that the best gifts of nature should be so scandalously neglected or abused. 1. It is, however, quite manifest, that with very little trouble, beyond a constant superintendance, on the part of those whose interest, and we will venture to say whose duty it is, to take that trouble, or make some one else take it for them, a change of the happiest nature could soon be effected.-Blackwood's Mag. LOVE. (For the Olio.) What is Love-that feeling wild, Is it from the realms of bliss, Come to bless the sons of earth? Or intruder, come amiss, Come to mar their joyous mirth? Is it, from mad Fancy's hold, Sent to lead our feet astray? "Life is changeling," bards have told; Perhaps 'tis Love that guides our clay! May be 'twas the gift of Jove, Left by him to mortals weak, When he left the world to rove, Where men dare not hope to seek? † Ask the virgin,-if indeed She will answer, she will say""Tis a passion, hearts to bleed, Happiness to cast away." But her blushes will declare, Ask the soldier, 'mid the noise And bustle of the warring bands, Assisting slaughter, (half the cause !) With wearied front and blood-stained hands. Aşk the lover, he alone Can proclaim its matchless worth; (He who ne'er from earth has flown Can but tell the things of earth.) He will shew you all its pains, He will say, that 'tis the beam Through misfortunes or in joy, Lulls with hope to fairest calm. Fate's worst judgments cannot break it, In his heart it lasts till death; Roughest tempests cannot shake it, Firm it waits his latest breath. 'Tis the guard of Virtue's keeping, Love is then our chiefest blessing, Brightest jewel in life's crown: Let then each who Love's possessing, Love till henceforth he is gone. Let each mortal own the God, Bow beneath his mighty nod; Let not the poet from his influence flee, Love is the very soul of poesy! K. JARMAN. The Cecilians, (No. 4.) MR. J. NIGHTINGALE. "With a becoming grace, "He shows his honest face." MR. JOSEPH NIGHTINGALE, who is the senior brother, is a musician of no common order; and his merit consists more cution, than as being a brilliant and showy in the neat and steady manner of his exeplayer on the piano forte and organ. His judgment is so correct, and his ear so well attuned to it, that he rarely errs, or goes out of his way for cadences of his own; but, agreeably with Hamlet's advice to the players, keeps strictly to that which is set down for him, and when having done this, he is satisfied. "That is Blair's," and "that is Tillotson's," will by no means apply to this performer :hence, such an artist is not only a faithful representative, but a good instructor. Moreover, these qualities are carried into practice in his personal appearance, for in his manners, matter, and dress, he is the verisimilitude of a professional gentleman, at once courteous, unassuming, and assiduous, f We recollect Rauzzini, at the Bath Music Rooms, always held the bâton of authority, a roll of paper, in his hand, as he appeared in the character of Frontis Match them 'gainst its pleasures sweet; piece, to lead the band; and even ex View the latter, wonder then Why so few the former meet! An allusion to the Heathen Mythology. ceeded Mr. Everett, who, when exalted like an orator in the upper realms of St. Paul's once a year, to keep watch for the 'charity cherubs, smiling aloft, is of no trifling consequence. Mr. J. Nightingale, in the capacity of Vice-President, and absence of the President, is more modestly becoming, always maintaining an uniform action, like the pendulum of a clock, without any flourishes, simply timing with his hand to his hand, the · measure for measure.'+ On the double Bass, an instrument like Pompey's Pillar in the power of an unskilful player, Mr. N. is proficient; but as his life has not been, like that of Dragonetti, devoted to three-stringed grinding and saw-work, he cannot be expected to rival the facetious foreigner. If the ability employed by Mr. J. Nightingale, in private tuition, and his sundry duties are excepted, he stands indeed as a valuable and staunch supporter of the Society, to which he has belonged more than twenty years; and he continues to be an ornament in the various exercises he purMUSCULUS. sues. † Quinctilian, after having said, that gesture is as much subservient to measure as utterance itself, adds, that the actors, who gesticulate, ought to follow the signs given with the foot; that is to say, the time beat, with as much exactitude as those who execute the modulations; by which he means the actors who pronounce and the instruments that accompany them. Near the actor who represented, a man was placed with iron shoes, who stamped upon the stage. It is natural to suppose, that this man's business was to beat the time with his foot, the sound of which would be heard by all whose business it was to observe it. INSTRUCTIONS FOR MAKING "Please to remember the fifth of November, MUCH has been written and said about putting young heads on old shoulders; but it would be more difficult to put old heads on young shoulders, and produce half the mirth and commemorating qualities which the urchins of every nation create by an inextinguishable feeling and spirited enthusiasm. If any portion of the olden times has an occasional revival, we are chiefly indebted to the village conscripts and city younglings for it. The flush joy and exuberance of boys, if we put their harmless clamour out of the scale, is as valuable in human weight as refined gold, and beautiful in the crown of health. Could we but chain our moments to boyhood, and wear eternal youth, most of us would willingly accept of the captivity, and enjoy the rapturous dura |