And where, beside their steeds, the pages stood,
They severally ran with cheerful speed.

Now Arthur and his thirty famous peers,
With bucklers on their arms, the horses mounted,
And rode with level'd shafts on to the plain,,
Where the strange knight had taken stand already.
Foremost King Arthur rode. Both couch'd their

spears,

And, covered with their shields, their vizors louted,
Spurring their horses, at each other ran

So forcibly, the ground beneath them shook;
When, as they were about to meet in onset,
The stranger held his spear aloof, received
On his firm shield the stiff thrust of the king,
So that the spear shivered in many splinters,
And Arthur scarcely could with effort keep
Firm in his stirrups. But unshaken sat
The sable knight, and, soon as his warm steed
Had spent his spring, he turn'd, rode to the king,
And courteously addressed him "God forbid
That I should use against you, noble sire,
My arm or weapon; order ine, as one
Bound to your service both by choice and duty."
The lofty Arthur looked on him amazed,
And to the tent return'd. Then Galaric,
His nephew, second son to Lot of Orean,
Steps rashly forth, for combat eager. Sure
Of victory, he swings the quivering spear,
Aud couches it, against his broad breast clanks
The golden-eagled shield. Now, with fierce thrust,
He rushes on, but by a gentle bend

Avoided, harmless slid his weapon's point

'Neath the Black Knight's left arm, whose surer shaft

Just then smote him a stunning blow, so home
His senses quell, his tottering knees unknit,
He drops, and covers with his length the ground.
To avenge his brother's fall, Sir Galban came,
The elder son of Lot, his name is heard
When of invincibles discourse is held;
But this time to his lady he forgot

To recommend himself, or fortune mock'd him;
For the black knight served him like Galaric.
An equal fate fell on the other nephews

Of Arthur, Egerwin and Galheret,

And on Bliomberis, and Lionel,

The na le sons of King Boort of Gannes,
Eke on the never weary, ever merry,
Sir Dinadel of Strangor. All of these
Had often stretched a brave man on the earth;
Now came their turn to be for once o'erthrown.
"Heigh!" says Sir Gries, King Arthur's seneschal,
In words the courtier, but in deeds the knight,
"Ne'er be it said or sung, in foreign lands,
That Arthur's messmates, like as many nine-pins,
By the first strolling champion were knock'd down;
Black as he is, the stranger is no devil."
Halfjesting, half in caruest, with these words
He spurr'd his courser. He had carefully,
Out of a heap of spears beside the tent,
Chosen the heaviest; but him nought avail'd
His foresight, his rash courage, or the glibness
Of his keen tongue. The black knight lifted him
High in the air, and let him fall amiain.
His squire soon helped on his legs again;
Back to the tent with muttering limp'd Sir Gries.

The others followed in their turns, bold knights,
Unwent to turn their backs on any adventure,
Howe'er unpromising, or yield to man:
To break a fance was but a sport to them,
They would have stripped a forest of its wood;
Yet of them all not one, not one withstood
The forceful onset of the unknown knight;
Each in his turn was from the saddle hurl'd.
Thus to behold the whole Round Table foil'd,
Grieved to the heart Sir Lancelot of the Lake,
The only one of all the thirty who
Remain'd unconquer'd. This Sir Lancelot
Was the fair queen's own knight; for love to her
He had done many deeds, and in repayment
Many a sweet kiss, and many a glowing clasp,
Had been vonchisafed in secret. No one messmate
Of the Round Table was than him more fraught
With manliness and beauty. In the presence
Of his fair mistress, nothing seems so easy
As to unhorse the stoutest javelin splitter
On the wide earth. And yet he look'd astonished
At the black kuight; for what had newly chanc'd,
Ne'er chane'd before, since the Round Table stood.
"If the black art it be which shields this
heathen,"

Says Lancelot softly to the queen, "Fair lady,
I pray thee don't forsake thy faithful knight;
Tho' hell for the black champion strive united,

If but your eye smile on me, on my side
Is heaven." When he thus had said, the queen
Allowed him in her lovely eyes to read
(For scemliness before so many hearers
Closed up her lips) an answer, which upswell'a
The big heart in his bosom. With loose rein,
His shield aloof, his lance press'd to his side,
He ran, and both the knights so forcibly
Jostled against each other, horse and man.
That the snapt shafts were shivered in their fists,
And shield and helmet met together elanging.
But nought avail'd to Lancelot his lady's
Kind glances; him the black knighi's force out-
weighs,

He totters, drops the rein, grows giddy, sinks,
And lies where lay before him all his messmates.
Calmly the stranger from his horse alights,
Coaxes with friendly hand his reeking back,
And his warm chest, takes off the foamny bit,
Ungirds the saddle, and dismisses him,
With a kind pat, to graze about the green;
Then turns, as came he from an airing merely,
Cheerful and unreserv'd, with his accustomed
Grave elderly slow step, back to the tent,

With eyes askance the knights avoid his gaze,
And look at one another, as if asking
Can you bear this? but Arthur from the tent
Advanc'd with dignity, held out his hand,
And thus address'd the stranger: "Noble knight,
We have, I think, bought of you dear enough
The right to see the face of one, who thus
Can heave my thirty comrades from the saddle."
No sooner had the king vouchsafed these words,
Than the strange knight unhasp'd his helm, and
rais'd it;

When lo! the curls were white as snow that hung
About his skull; in all the majesty

Of unenfeebled age the hero stood,

A stately handsome man, though manifold
The wrinkles were that farrow'd his high forehead,
And though his shoulders, still unstooping, bore
The burden of a hundred years of toil.

On seeing him, King Arthur and his knights
Again grew warm about the heart, they thronged
Wondering around the stranger, clasp'd his hand,
While on his countenance their looks repos'd
Kindly, like sous who meet unhop'd a father.
"My name is Brauer, (said the ancient knight,)
Branor the Brown. Thy father, royal Arthur,
The far-renowned Pendragon Uther, still
Trotted his horse of stick about the court,
When Branor sallied forth o'er hill and dals
In quest of ventures. These old mossy oaks
I recollect no taller than a spear.

Thy father was to me an honour'd master,
And a kind friend. We often rode together,
And broke, in jest and earnest, many a lance.
May blessings light upon his noble son!

It does my old eyes good to see young men
Not yet quite fallen off from their forefathers."
While thus they spake, the sun was setting.
Arthur,

His queen, the ladies, and the thirty knights,
With Branor in the midst, now turn'd their steps
Toward the castle-gate at Cramalot,
Where a repast stood waiting in the ball.

A purfled canopy o'erhung the seat

Of Arthur and bis queen; an ivory stool
Was placed between them for the worthy Branor.
When these were seated, others took their places,
In order due, beside the spacious board.
Now twenty youths in pewter dishes brought
The steaming food, and twenty others waited
At the rich side-board, where from silver cwers
Stream'd ale, mead, wine, and trumpets shook the
hall,

As often as the two-eared cup went round.
When appetite was sated, lofty talk

Of deeds, of champions, and of court-emprize,
Prolong'd their stay till midnight, and all eyes
Fasten'd upon the stranger; whensoe'er
He oped his lips to parley, one might theu
Have beard a spider on the cornise spin.

King Arthur took the old man's hand, and said:
"Until to-day my eyes have ne'er beheld,
Sir Branor, one so stout and merciful;
God help me, but I should have liked to know
The fathers who begot such sons as these."

Him the old knight replied to in this wise:
"Sire king, I've lived a hundred years and more,
Many a good man upon his nurse's lap
I've seen, and many a better help'd to bury.
As yet there is no lack of donghty knights,
Or lovely ladies worthy of their service;

But

But men, like those of yore, I see not now,
So full of manhood, firmness, frankness, sense,
To honour, right, and truth, so tied, and steadfast,
With hand and heart, and countenance, so open,
So without uile, as were King Meliad,
Hector the Brown, and Danayn the Red,
And my friend Geron, still surnamed the Cour-

teous,

Sach men, by God! I ne'er shall see again."

Here the old man's voice faultered, and he bowed His head, and paused. And all were silent too For a long time: none dared to interrupt The holy stilluess, till at length Guenara Wisked to Sir Lancelot, who understood her, And thus to Branor said: "We, antient sir,

mention;

Only in you, who knew them, they still live.
Twould be some solace to us, from the one

Spared to our times, to hear of them and their's."
King Arthur and the queen, and all the knights,
(timedia with Lancelot's prayer: not aloud,
fet rot unheeded, the young ladies plead,
And by the stooping eye, and colouring cheek,
Beraya bashful curiosity.

Thea Branor, nodding friendly, look'd at them, A sud, "Your very prayer is courtesy; Olage prates willluly, as well you know, And loves to talk about the good old times Tat are no more; in which, as in a dream Of bliss, it still can lingering stray delighted. I'll tell yan of the nob.est man I knew, Of Gerontis fall seventy years and more Sace s strange accident brought us together.

I was on horseback, strolling through the forest In quest of some adventure, when a storm Add me suddenly: I sought for shelter Under a cavern, where I soon perceiv'd A narrow path, which led into the mountain. (To be continued.)

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine,

SIR,

HERE is a curious fact in 200logy, which is not noticed by any writer upon the subject that I have met with, but of which I was once an eye-witness; namely, that bats sometimes carry their young ones upon their back. When I was a few years since rambling with some others among the trees in Ackworth-park, near Pontefract, in Yorkshire, in the middle of the day, I perceived a bat flying near me, which was followed in a little time by another, and, in a few minutes after, by a third. So unusual a circumstance engaged my attention, particularly as they all flew in the same straight direction, without returning. It also excited my curiosity to discover from whence they came.

I accordingly walked in the contrary direction, and soon came to a tree in which was a hole, made by a woodpecker, about ten or twelve feet from the ground, from which I saw several bats take their flight. My companions elimbed into the tree, and stationed themselves on each side of the hole, and soon informed me that the bats carried their young upon their backs; and endeavoured to knock them down with their hats, as they issued from the hole. They struck to the ground MONTHLY MAG. No. 374.

tree, in which also was a woodpecker's hole, into which we saw several enter. The hole from which they issued stank most offensively, which was probably occasioned by the death of some of the family, and was the cause of the emigration of the rest.

Sept. 10, 1822. R. G. ROBINSON. Chesterton, near Cambridge.

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine.

I

SIR,

READ with interest a letter from Mr. Graham in your last number, calling the attention of your readers to the lime-water procured from the gasworks, as an effectual remedy for that troublesome and disagreeable disease -the ring-worm. I have for a considerable period used what is called in the London Pharmacopoeia the Unguentum Hydrargyri Nitratis, mixed with an equal portion of lard, or wax cerate, as an external application; giving, at the same time, gentle purgatives twice in the day. I can truly say, that I have never known the above remedies to fail.

My object in this letter is not to depreciate the value of Mr. Graham's remedy, but merely to point out a more attainable and less disagreeable method than the one noticed by that gentleman. I fully concur with him in recommending perfect cleanliness, and washing the head with soap and water. MEDICUS.

Sept. 13, 1822.

way they can, the manufacturers have resorted to contrivances to avert the pressure of this coercive branch of money-levying; and the result is the same as in all cases of financial oppression,-trickery attempting to counteract the invasions of legislative requisitions, leaving the public as gulls of such a desperate game, viz. by forcing articles of bad quality upon them, instead of (as heretofore) good

ones.

As I have laid part of this gross system bare, I will finish it by saying, that the same species of legalized adulteration in paper-making exists in the (second class) inferior papers as those manufactured by the "white class makers." Retail shopkeepers are continually complaining of the rottenness and imperfection of the species called whity-brown; and no wonder: the article is often so stuffed with chalk, and other vile trash, that on applying it to the fire it actually moulders, and refuses to burn. The large brown packing-paper, used in warehouses, &c. which used to be formerly of a strong firm texture, when it was the unalloyed produce of old tarred rope, is now fabricated in such a way as to contain nearly as much clay or marlo as it does of the refuse of hemp; and the consequence is, a weak paltry article, which will hardly bear handling, or the characters of the ink, instead of a good sound, tar-smelling, paper,-being foisted upon all classes of tradesmen, who have occasion to use it.

Well might Burns apply the abusive epithet he did to the Excise: to speak with concise condemnation of it, I must say it is the stamp of an oppressive poverty-sinking government, and the greatest drawback which ever existed on the free exercise of honest labour and manual industry. Cullum street.

ENORT SMITH.

was given the other day, threw it by with great composure, without troubling himself to open it; only observing, that by the time Providence in its kindness might send him a change in his old day, and he undertook again to go before the altar with a new companion, (it being then the fourth time,) there would without doubt be a still newer Marriage Act, or an amendment and new modelling of the present, which he then might consult; for, said he, the newly made law will shortly be declared null and void, to make room for a wiser; when the purposes of the present are served, as applying to some dignified personages, to whom all things in heaven and earth are of course subservient.

But, sir, there is a great portion of the community who are still unmarried, although the 1st of September is gone past; a great many who are thinking of marriage; a great many who have long been plotting and planning for it; and not a few, particularly of the female sex, who are only hoping for it: among all of whom the Marriage Act has produced what is commonly called a sensation.

But, delays being dangerous, no small number have been frightened by the portentous 1st of September to plunge into the holy state of wedlock, to whom the said Marriage Act has also, without doubt, been the means of producing a considerable amount of sensation. There is a great sensation felt at the Stock Exchange when a great man cuts his throat, or an eastern pacha happens to lose his head; there is a sensation in the city when a "good man" becomes bankrupt, or a fat citizen turns Highlander; there is a sensation among the Scotch clergy when they have an "effulgent" address to write to the "bulwark of their church;" and there is a sensation among the bishops when one of their members is found out to be-not so good as he ought to be.

But there are a great many who have other things to think of besides "the kirk of Scotland," and the city baronet without breeches; who are neither careful about Ali Pacha nor the Vice Society; who nevertheless have their feelings, and to whom the Marriage Act is of no little importance. I have had some opportunity of observing how this terrible Act has affected many, particularly among the lower orders, about whom the Act-makers

never

never concerned themselves. Many a thoughtless young woman has been forced to think by it, and many a foolish young man it has almost made prudent.

There are so many certified and signed matters, and oaths, and extracts required, that many women who thought themselves secure of husbands are entirely disconcerted, most awkwardly situated, and sorely disappointed. I assure you, sir, it has made many think who otherwise would have married, as is customary, without thinking at all; and has given opportunity for the advice-givers and teachers of wisdom,-which nobody about to get married has leisure to be troubled with,-to shake their heads, and deliver their lectures.

But those most to be pitied are such ladies whose charms have remained too long untasted, and whose beauty, -little as there may be of it,-is beginning to be on the wane; who now, for lack of some unlucky consent or certificate, on the part of those whom they may, with much art and painstaking, have brought fairly to commit themselves; may now find all their labour lost, and all their tender hopes disappointed. What anticipations may now be frustrated! What pleasing dreams may, since the 1st of Septemher, never be destined to be answered by any substantial reality. I am myself acquainted with a lady, in the doubtful time of life, between a young woman and an old maid, who had waited, and watched, and wished, and longed, and survived two or three disappointments, until Patience was just ready to be sent about his business; when, lo! a lover appeared,—and a desirable lover, too; whom proper attentions on her part soon brought to name the time, the month of October; it could not be sooner, but it should not be later.

Drive away thou drone, Time, And bring about our bridal day. But, in the mean time, out comes the Marriage Act, with its certificates, its affidavits, and its church-door labels; and the cruel man begins to edge off, and the constant fair must only sigh and wring "her lily hand." Her very look is completely changed. She seems, instead of thinking of the caresses of a husband, and the dear name of Mrs. B. to be pondering on the rueful prospect of withered charms;

and, in the place of husband and children, the companionship and intimacy of a monkey, a parrot, and a cat.

Seriously, however, whatever opinions may be entertained upon the wisdom of the new Act as a whole, it unquestionably corrects an error in legislation of serious importance, which declares marriages by minors, &c. null and void; a law pregnant with much mischief and confusion. And the general principle is certainly wise and rational, in every point of view; which puts whatever circum-. stances collective experience induces the legislature to declare illegal, with regard to marriage, in the form of obstructions to its taking place; instead of ordaining them to dissolve it after, and after perhaps years of time, alterations of circumstances, transfer of property, the birth of children, and a thousand important occurrences. Whatever tends to make a marriage objectionable in the eye of the law, ought undoubtedly to stand in the way of its taking place at first; but, after a marriage has been solemnized, it should remain sacred and unobjectionable; and, except in cases of proved infidelity, indissoluble,

The new law will also have a good effect in preventing many premature and improvident marriages; and, upon the theory of population, will operate as a preventative check, perhaps of some importance to the prosperity of our country, and the thinning of our workhouses. Whether the obstructions to it by the operation of the new Act are not too numerous, and put in forms vexatious and embarrassing to many, is another question.

66

We

They order this matter better in France," says Mr. Sterne, setting out on his Sentimental Journey. may say, perhaps, with some truth, "they order this matter better in Scotland;" in one respect at least, for there marriages are indissoluble; while the necessary forms previous to the ceremony are simple, and free from oaths and technical intricacies. There the original law is, that marriage is not an ecclesiastical, but a civil institution; and the original officiating person is not a clergyman, but a magistrate or justice of the peace. Hence a marriage by the latter is perfectly indissoluble in law; but the parties are refused what is called church privileges, without payment of a certain sum at marriage to the church funds, most

of

of which, however, goes to the parochial poor. On this account, most persons who marry by a magistrate are married afterwards also by their minister, as it is a work of supererogation, which is satisfactory to the kirk, and costs no additional expense. A license for marriage is unknown in the Scotch law. Clerical marriages require that the parties shall be proclaimed three times in the kirk, which may be done in one day, if the parties choose to pay for it; but in all cases of marriage, either by a clergyman or magistrate, no oath is taken, nor is there any formality necessary; but a third person attends, the letter of the law requires two, to say that, to the best of their belief, neither of the parties are at the time married to any other person now alive.

But the facility afforded to young persons for becoming "one flesh" is not greater in Scotland than in Ircland, where they are buckled by the priest often before they are full grown, and breed in the face of poverty and misery. Whether the new law, preventing the marriages of minors, will operate as a preventative check on them, otherwise than if they are very eager, may perhaps be doubtful. It however has not failed to make a greater impression on some classes of the people than any piece of news they have for a long time heard, as any one who chooses may convince themselves. It is quite amusing to hear the sentiments of different persons on a question which is purely one of individual happiness, and is neither connected much with religion nor politics. P.

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine.

K

SIR,

NOWING that your pages are always filled with some practical hints for the extension of knowledge, and exposing tyranny and corruption to the view of your intelligent readers, I have ventured to lay before you a subject, which I trust you and your able correspondents will thoroughly investigate, namely, that of Select Vestry Bills, which, if they are not opposed, are likely to lead to the most injurious consequences.

In the House of Commous, on the 10th of July last, Mr. Nolan gave notice that he intended to bring in a Bill to amend the Poor Laws, and to introduce the general practice of Sc

lect Vestry Bills; I quote his own words:"But the greatest and most beneficial alteration was that of the Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. Sturges Bourne), whose Bill introduced Select Vestries, and the appointment of assistant overseers, whose business it was to look after the condition of the poor in their districts, and to ascertain what were their real wants. The first object of his (Mr. Nolan's) Bill, would be to improve the condition of the assistant overseers, and render them more effective in their respective districts, by a different arrangement of the duties which they had to discharge, and a proportionate increase of their salary. He also wished that, instead of being appointed, as at present, by the Vestry at large, they should be nominated by the Select Vestry, who were also to have the arrangement of the sums of money at the assistant overseer's disposal.'

This, sir, strikes at freedom boldly. It has been said that "taxation without representation is tyranny ;”—what else can this be,-for the assistant overseers and Select Vestry, by whom they are appointed, to levy rates on parishioners, and deny them the control over the money so raised? As the Select Vestry are to have the arrangement of the sums of money, what sort of an arrangement it may be, we cannot tell; but we cannot form a very favourable opinion of the proceedings of those who would stifle honest inquiry, crush all true principles into the earth, and substitute the wild theories of blundering economists. JULIUS.

For the Monthly Magazine. AN IRISHMAN'S NOTES during a VISIT

to PARIS.

NO. I.

HERE we are: three cheers for

old Ireland, and away," was my cry, as I ran up stairs at six on the morn fixed for our sail; and the exclamation brought me to my gran's dressing-room. The first glapse of it reduced my floating spirits: there began the trouble of the business, as I endeavoured to make my way, harmless and unharmed, through boxes on boxes, trunks upon trunks, pack ages beside packages, writing-desks and dressing-desks, and many more boxes, and trunks, and desks, than I had before seen together. But we're going to France," thought I. Then inside all was cold and comfortless:

the