Master cooks shall not employ such scullions as go about naked, or lie all night on the ground, before the kitchen fire. No dogs to be kept in the court, but only a few spaniels for the ladies. Dinners to be at ten, suppers at four. The officers of his privy chamber shall be loving together, no grudging or grumbling, nor talking of the king's pastime. The king's barber is enjoined to be cleanly, not to frequent the company of misguided women, for fear of danger to the king's royal person. There shall be no romping with maids on the staircase, by which dishes and other things are often broken!! Care shall be taken of the pewter spoons, and that the wooden ones used in the kitchen be not broken or stolen. The pages shall not interrupt the kitchen maids! The grooms shall not steal his highness's straw for beds, sufficient being allowed for them. Coal only to be allowed to the king's, queen's, and lady Mary's chambers. The brewers are not to put any brimstone in the ale.' Among the fishes for the table is mentioned the porpoise; if too big for a horse load an extra allowance to purveyor. Twenty-four loaves aday allowed for his royal highness's greyhounds. dered. That all noblemen and gentlemen, at the end of the sessions of the parliament, depart to their several counties, on pain of the royal displeasure!!!'

TURN-COAT.

'Or

The Duke of Savoy took indifferently sometimes part with France, and sometimes with Spain, for that purpose he had a juste au corps, white on one side and scarlet on the other; so that, when he meant to declare for France, he wore the white outside, and when for Spain the red. This is the origin of the proverb, tourner casàque, or turn-coat.,

SPINSTER.

Formerly it was a maxim that a young woman should never be married till she had spun herself a set of body, table, and bed linen. From this custom all unmarried women were termed spinsters, an appellation they still retain in all deeds and law proceedings.

THERE can be no apprehension, even in 'these sluggish days of peace,' that the wooden walls of Old England,' and the hardy tars who man them, will be forgotten. To be sure, the series of victories which gave us the undisputed dominion of the sea, were, strange as it may appear, by no means favourable to the popularity of the navy. There being hardly an enemy, there were few opportunities of performing those daring achievements which excite and deserve the applause of the nation; and the world is sometimes ungrateful enough to forget those whose claims to regard are not constantly kept before their eyes. We observe, with regret, that our theatres no longer resound with those generous cheers which were wont to follow any patriotic allusions to the deeds of the British navy. Its very supremacy may be considered as inimical to its fame; and the Tar, like the Macedonian, might well weep, that nothing remained for him to conquer. That he has still, however, the same daring spirit which triumphed at the Nile and Trafalgar, Navarino may be adduced as a proof; and his country has again only to encounter a maritime enemy, to be VOL. I. Feb, 1829.

F

reminded, by his achievements, that her best security is to be found in her gallant navy.

As some atonement for vulgar and uncertain popularity, the literary world has taken 'poor Jack' under its protection: he is becoming classical: his deeds are acquiring that immortality, which, after all, genius alone can bestow; and the witty and the fair are disposed to appreciate his bravery, and to be amused with details of his eccentricities. Several writers capable of doing justice to his merits have recently appeared; but assuredly none with better claims to his gratitude than the author of Greenwich Hospital, a Series of Naval Sketches, illustrative of the Life of a Man-ofWar's-Man.' The title-page tells us that they were written by an 'Old Sailor;' and had there been no such announcement, the work bears ample evidence of its being the production of one long and familiarly acquainted with the element on whose bosom so many glorious and extraordinary things have been performed. No descriptive details, no historical accuracy, could convey so animated and faithful a picture of the sailor's life as these sketches. They introduce us, without the irksomeness of an introduction, to the presence of the officers and the crew. We witness the thoughtless gaiety on board and ashore, and, without the apprehension of danger, are allowed to contemplate the bustle of the engagement. The carnage excites a tear for the slain, and a cheer for the victory: instantly the deck is cleared, the manly breast is reconciled to the loss of friends and comrades, and immediately the jest and the laugh are heard, instead of the roaring of the cannon and the cries of the wounded. Such a life teems with novel incidents and strange histories, and the Old Sailor' has abundantly availed himself of them. His sketches are admirable pictures of the men he wishes to delineate; and though a vein of rich and racy humour runs through them, it is mellowed and controlled by feelings of the finest humanity: the honest heart is indicated through a liveliness of manner; and we are almost tempted to regret that talents

of the very first order should have been for years confined to the limits of a man-of-war. But if the republic of letters has suffered, the navy has been a gainer: one of her own sons has proved, that mental attainments are not incompatible with a seafaring life; and that there lives not a character better entitled to public regard and public gratitude, than the British Tar.

The literary merits of the work had nearly occasioned us to overlook its pictorial claims. In addition to a mental treat, the reader will be gratified by twelve etchings from George Cruikshank's burin. They are such illustrations as might be expected from the Hogarth of the day; and are decidedly the best illustrations of a sailor's life which have ever been published. We would in particular refer to Sailors Carousing,' ⚫ Sailors on a Cruise,' and The Battle of the Nile.' Nelson is not represented in the picture, because it was fought at a public-house, in Greenwich, by mutilated pensioners. Besides his inimitable etchings, the same artist has furnished several tail-pieces, every one of which is a graphic pun. One of them is placed at the head of this article as a specimen, and the selection was made with some difficulty. We are in a similar predicament respecting the sketches; and being somewhat perplexed between articles equally excellent, we shall open the volume at random, and lay before our readers the first sketch which presents itself; and lo! here it is!

THE ENGAGEMENT.

Poor Tom! He is gone, and the tongue that could once set the cockpit in a roar is silent now for ever! He died bravely in the service of his country, and has left a memorial in the hearts of all who knew him which time can never efface. The wailings of distress had only to reach his ear, when his hand, his purse, were at the disposal of the supplicant. Poor Tom! I have shed many a tear to thy memory; nor do I consider it a weakness that my eyes are at this moment moistened by the overflowings of affectionate remembrance. We had embark'd in the navy on the same day, and in the

same ship,-had endured together the many tricks to which all greenhorns are exposed at their first introduction to the midshipmen's birth. We were watchmates, and shared the secrets of each other's heart. Oh, how often, at the midnight hour, have we gazed at the full round moon pictured on the bosom of the azure wave, and whiled away the midwatch in painting scenes of future glory; or looking towards our own home-shore, thinking on those we'd left behind!Fancy, delusive most where warmest wishes are, would lead us on in a romantic dream of sweet delight, known only to the young mariner. There are some feelings of the human mind so exquisitely delicate in their nature, and yet so powerful in their operations, that as soon would the pulse of existence cease to beat as those feelings cease to actuate the heart of man. The cherish'd remembrance of Auld lang syne' dwells in the breast, and is as dear when only illuminated by the last rays of a declining sun, as when it bask'd in its meridian beam, and exulted in the glorious splendour. 'Hallo!' you will say, 'where is our Old Sailor bound to now?-surely he is getting out of his latitude.' Mayhap I may be. May be? no-I'm a child to this hour; but one word's as good as twenty, let me go on and spin my yarn upon my own winch.

Our ship was paid off, and all hands were drafted into other men-of-war; consequently a separation took place, and we lost sight of each other for some years. One day I was walking the deck, when the quartermaster of the watch informed me there was a boat coming alongside with a lieutenant in her; and, as our third had applied to be superseded, I made no doubt that this was the new luff-tackle coming to join us. But what was my pleasure on beholding between the white lapelles the smiling face of my old friend! A glow of inexpressible animation warm'd my heart; but perhaps, thought I, promotion has alter'd him. Í drew back, however, he had caught sight of me, and the pressure of friendship told me in an instant Tom was the same honest, generous, open-hearted being I had