"moral agent," replied, "What, madam, would you have of an O'Gallagher-a family of the blackest Papists in the county ?" My lady shook her head, and threw up her devout eyes.-Dinner was now announced, and the moral agent giving his hand to the lady, I was left to sleep away the fatigue of my journey.

I awoke very hungry, and consequently disposed to be very talkative, but was silenced by finding myself surrounded by a crowd of persons of both sexes, who were eagerly gazing on me. A certain prostrate look of sly, shy humility, lengthened their pale faces, to the exclusion of all intellectual expression. They formed a sort of religious meeting, called a tea-and-tract party; but the open door discovered preparations for a more substantial conclusion to the obbligato prayers and lectures of the evening. My new mistress was evidently descanting on my merits, and read that paragraph from the chaplain's letter which described my early associations, my knowledge of the Creed, and announced me as a source of edification to her servants. Two or three words of this harangue operating on my memory, I put forth my profession of faith with a clearness of articulation and fidelity really wonderful for a bird. What exclamations! what turning-up of eyes! I was stifled with caresses, intoxicated with praises, and crammed with sweetmeats. The moral agent grew pale with jealousy, when Doctor Direful was announced. He rushed into the room like a whirlwind, but stood aghast at beholding the devout crowd that encircled me. Instead of the usual apophthegms, and serious discourse, he heard nothing but "Pretty Poll," "Scratch a poll,"

," "What a dear bird," &c. The malicious moral agent chuckled, and explained that the bird had, for the moment, usurped the attention which should exclusively belong to his reverence, who had taken the pains to come so far to enlighten the dark inmates of Sourcraut Hall. Dr. Direful stood rolling his fierce eye (he had but one) on the abashed assembly; and, pushing me off my perch, drove me with his handkerchief into the dense crowd which filled the bottom of the room, and consisted of all the servants of the house, with some recently converted Papists from among the Sourcraut tenantry. All drew back in horror, to let one so anathematised pass without contact. I coiled myself up near a droll-looking little postilion, who, while turning up the whites of his eyes, was coaxing me to him with a fraginent of plumb-cake,

which he had stolen from the banquettable. Dr. Direful returned to the centre of the room, and mounted a desk to commence his lecture. The auditory crowded and cowered timidly round him, while he, looking down on them with a wrathful and contemptuous glance, was about to pour forth the pious venom which hung upon his lips, when a sharp cry of "Get along out of that" struck him dumb. Inquiry was useless, for all were ready to swear that they had not uttered a word. Dr. Direful called them " blasphemous liars," and proceeded one and all to empty the vials of his wrath through the words of a text of awful denunciation, which I dare not here repeat; but his words were again arrested by the exclamation of, "Aisy now, aisy-what a devil of a hurry you are in!" uttered in quick succession.He jumped down from his altitude; and, in reply to his renewed inquiries, a serious coachman offered up to the vengeance of this Moloch of methodism the mischievous postilion, who had that morning detected the not always sober son of the whip in other devotions than those to which he professed exclusive addiction. When I saw the rage of all parties, I thought of the roasted Indians of the Brazils, and shuddered for the poor lad. After a short, but inquisitorial examination, in which he in vain endeavoured to throw the blame on me, he was stripped of his gaudy dress, and in spite of his well-founded protestations of innocence, turned almost naked from the house. When peace was restored, a hymn was sung as an exorcism of the evil spirit that had gotten among the assembly; when, being determined to exculpate the poor postilion, I joined with all my force in the chorus, with my Catholic "Gloria in excelsis," which I abruptly changed into "Polly put the kettle on." Thus taken in the fact, I was, without ceremony, denounced as an emissary from Clongowes, brought to Sourcraut Hall by the Papist O'Gallagher, with a forged letter, to disturb the community. I was immediately cross-examined by a religious attorney, as if I had been a white-boy or a ribbonman. "Come forward," he said, "you bird of satan!-speak out, and answer for yourself, for its yourself can do it, you egg of the devil! What brought you here?" I answered, "It was all for my sweet sowl's sake, jewel!"— and the answer decided my fate, without more to do. And now loaded with all the reproaches that the odium theologicum could suggest, I was cuffed, hunted, and finally driven out of the gates by

the serious coachman, to perish on the highway. On recovering from my fright, I found myself at the edge of a dry ditch, where the poor shivering postilion sat lamenting his martyrdom. I went up to him, cowering and chattering; and at the sight of me the tears dried on his dirty cheeks-his sobs changed to a laugh of delight; and when I hopped on his wrist, and cried "Poor Pat," all his sufferings were forgotten. While thus occupied, a little carriage, drawn by a superb horse, with the reins thrown loose on his beautiful neck, ascended the hill. At the sight I screamed out "Get along out of that!" which so frightened the high-blooded creature that he started, and flung the two persons in the carriage fairly into the middle of the road. One of them, in a military dress, sprung at once on his feet, and laying the whip across the naked shoulders of the postilion, exclaimed, "I'll teach you, you little villain, to break people's necks." "Oh! murther! murther! cried the poor boy, "shure, it was not me, plase your honour, only the parrot, Captain." "What parrot, you lying rascal ?" "There, Captain, Sir, look forenenst you." The captain did look up, and saw me perched on the branch of a scrubby hawthorn-tree. Surprised and amused, he exclaimed, "By Jove! how odd! What a magnificent bird! Why Poll, what the deuce brought you here?" "Eh, sirs," I replied at random, "it was aw' for the love of the siller." The captain, and his little groom Midge, who had picked himself up on the other side of the cabriolet, shrieked with laughing.

"I say, my boy," said the captain, "is that macaw your's?" "It is," said the little liar. "Would you take a guinea for it?" asked the captain. "Troth, would I ; two," said the postilion. "Done," said the captain; and pulling out his purse, and giving the two guineas, I suffered myself to be caught and placed in the cabriolet. The young officer sprang in after me, and, taking the reins, pursued his journey. We slept that night at a miserable inn in a miserable town. The next morning we arrived at my old hotel in Sackvillestreet, and shortly after sailed for England.

The Honourable George Fitz-Forward, my new master, was a younger brother of small means and large pretensions. He had been quartered at Kil-mac-squabble with a detachment, where he had passed the winter in still-hunting, quelling ructions, shooting grouse and rebels, spitting over the

bridge, and smoking cigars; and having obtained leave of absence, pour se d'écrasser, was on his way to London for the ensuing season. We travelled in the cab by easy stages, and halted only at great houses on the road, be-ginning with Plas Newyd, and ending at Sion House. My master's rank, and my talents, were as good as board wages to us; and as the summer was not yet sufficiently advanced for the London winter, we found every body at home, and had an amazingly pleasant time. My master was enchanted with his acquisition. I made the frais of every society; and my repartees and bonmots furnished the Lord Johns and Lady Louisas with subjects for whole reams of pink and blue note-paper. My master frequently said, "That bird is wonderful! he is a great catch!"-and my fame had spread over the whole west end of the town a full week before our arrival in London.

The Metropolitan, No. I.

LONDON LYRICS,

PROVERBS.

My good Aunt Bridget, spite of age,
Versed in Valerian, Dock, and Sage,
Well knew the Virtues of herbs;
But Proverbs gain'd her chief applause,
"Child," she exclaimed, " respect old saws,
"And pin your faith on Proverbs."

Thus taught, I dubb'd my lot secure;
And, playing long-rope, "slow and sure,"
Conceived my movement clever;
When lo au urchin by my side
Push'd me head foremost in, and cried-
"Keep Moving," "Now or Never,"
At Melton, next, I join'd the bunt,
Of bogs and bushes bore the brunt,
Nor once my courser held in ;
But when I saw a yawning steep,
I thought of" Look before you leap,"
Aud curb'd my eager gelding.
While doubtful thus I rein'd my roan,
Willing to save a fractured bone,

Yet fearful of exposure,

A sportsman thus my spirit stirr'd-
"Delays are dangerous;"-I spurr'd

My steed, and leap'd th' enclosure.
I ogled Jane, who heard me say
That" Rome was not built in a day,"
When lo Sir Fleet O'Grady

.

Put this, my saw, to sea again,
And proved, by running off with Jaue,
"Faint heart ne'er won fair Lady."
Aware "New Brooms sweep clean," I took
An untaught tyro for a cook,

(The tale I tell a fact is)

She spoilt my soup; but, when I chid,
She thus once more iny work undid,
"Perfection comes from Practice."

Thus, out of every adage hit,
And, finding that ancestral wit

As changeful as the clime is:
From Proverbs, turning on my heel,
I now cull Wisdom from iny seal,
Who's motto's" Ne quid nimis."

New Monthly Magazine.

TWO THOUSAND POUNDS REFUSED BY A BURGESS FOR HIS VOTE.

OLDFIELD, in his History of Boroughs, says, "On the death of the late Lord Holmes, a very powerful attempt was made by Sir William Oglander and some other neighbouring gentlemen, to deprive his lordship's nephew and successor, the Rev. Mr. Troughear Holmes, of his influence over the Corporation of Newport, Isle of Wight. The number of that body was at that time twentythree, there being one vacancy amongst the aldermen, occasioned by the recent death of Lord Holmes. Eleven of them continued firm to the interest of the nephew, and the same number was equally eager to transfer that interest to Sir William Oglander and the Worsley family. A Mr. Taylor of this town, one of the burgesses, withheld his declaration, and as his vote would decide the balance of future influence, it was imagined that he only suspended it for the purpose of private advantage. Agree ably to that idea, he was eagerly sought by the agents of each party. The first who applied is said to have made him an offer of 2,000. Mr. Taylor had actually made up his mind to have voted with his party, but the moment his integrity and independence were attacked, he reversed his determination, and resolved to give his suffrage on the opposite side.

That party, however, like their opponents, being ignorant of the favour designed them, and of the accident to which they owed it, assailed him with a more advantageous offer. He informed them that he had but just formed the reinsult from their adversaries, of giving solution, in consequence of a similar them his support, but since he had discovered that they were both aiming at power by the same means, he was deand to put himself out of the power of termined to vote for neither of them; his gown as a burgess of the corporafurther temptation, he resolved to resign tion; which he accordingly did the next

day.'

P. T. W.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. LIMINGTON, one mile east from Ilches ter, in Somersetshire, is noted on ac count of a school having been kept there by the great Cardinal Wolsey in the early part of his life, who whilst in this situation was, for a misdemeanour, put into the stocks by Sir Amias Pawlett. This indignity was never forgiven by the haughty prelate, who, when in power, made Sir Amias feel the weight of his resentment, by making him dance attendance at the court for many years, whilst soliciting a favour. C. D.

and the left-hand third floor being of the oldest date.

Apart from these attractions, and as a specimen of the olden domestic architecture of the metropolis, the annexed Cut bears an historic interest, in its having been the residence of the illstarred Anne Boleyn, queen of Henry the Eighth. The interior was in pala tial style, having been elaborately finished; and in one of the apartments, we learn that the royal arms were very conspicuous.

In early times, Southwark was one of the most celebrated of the metropolitan suburbs; and it is much to be regretted that the liberality of our times has not encouraged the production of its ancient history. Every one at all familiar with London is aware of the antiquity of St. Saviour's Church, the original foundation of which was from the profits of a ferry over the Thames, whence its original name, St. Mary Overy, or 66 over the ferry." This was some time before the Conquest; but the church was principally rebuilt in the fourteenth century. We have spoken of its ancient fame elsewhere. Bankside, its name in spiritual and secular story, is likewise of some note. The early Bishops of Winchester had a palace and park here; remains of the former were laid open by a fire about seventeen years since. Then, who does not remember, in the love of sports and pastimes, the bull and bear-baiting theatres, and the uncouth glory of the Globe theatre, associated with the poet of all time-Shakspeare. Southwark was, therefore, a fitting site for a royal palace for occasional retirement, and its contiguity to the Thames must have enhanced its pleasantness.

Miss Benger, in her agreeable Memoirs of Anne Boleyn, does not mention the Queen's abode in Southwark; but the date of the architecture of the unnexed house, and its closer identification with Queen Elizabeth, render the first mentioned circumstance by no means improbable. Previous to the marriage of Anne Boleyn, we learn that Henry passed not a few of his leisure hours "in the delightful society of Anne Boleyn.' "Every day they met and spent many hours in riding or walking toge Her family at this time resided

ther."

at Durham House, on the site of the Adelphi, and Anne frequently made ex

See Mirror, vol. xiii. p. 227. Gower is buried here, Fletcher and Messenger too; and not loug since the bones of Bishop Andrews were exhumed, or disturbed, in removing some chapels for the New London Bridge approach.See also Mirror, vol. xvi. p. 297.

cursions with Henry in the vicinity of

London.

Of the antiquity of this district we could quote more proofs. The galleried inn-yards, and among them that at which the Pilgrims sojourned on their road to Canterbury, are among them. In our last volume too, at page 160, we engraved an ancient Vault in Tooley-street, the remains of the "great house, builded of stone, with arched gates, which pertained to the Prior of Lewis, in Sussex, and was his lodging when he came to London." Not far from this was "another great House of Stone and Timber," which, in the thirteenth century, was held of John, Earl Warren, by the Abbot of St. Augustins, at Canterbury." Stowe says "It was an ancient piece of worke, and seemeth to be one of the first builded houses on that side of the river, over against the city: it was called the Abbot's Inne of St. Augustine in Southwark."

There was also another "Inne" near this spot, which belonged to the Abbey of Battle, in Sussex, and formed the town residence of its Abbots. This stood on the banks of the Thames, between the Bridge House and Battle Bridge, which was so called, "for that it standeth on the ground, and over a watercourse (flowing out of Thames) pertayning to that Abbey, and was therefore both builded and repayred by the Abbots of that house, as being hard adjoyning to the Abbot's lodging." Its situation is known by the landing-place called Battle Stairs. On the opposite side of Tooley-street is a low neighbourhood of meanly-built streets and passages, still denominated the Maze, from the intricacies of a labyrinth in the gardens of the Abbot of Battle's Inn, and which fronted its entrance-gate.

With these few quotations of the ancient importance of Southwark, we can but repeat our regret that no regular history of this district has yet been published. There are three or four gentlemen resident there, whose antiquarian attainments highly qualify them for the task. The public would surely find them patronage.

The Engraving is from an original sketch by an ingenious Correspondent, M.P. of Upton, near Windsor, whom we thank for this specimen of good taste. We are always happy to receive antiquarian illustrations of our Metropolis, and in this instance the zeal of the artist, who resides twenty miles distant, deserves special mention.