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saw the Earl of Surrey march northward at the head, of his army. That the Earl rested with the army one day at Northallerton, and an order was sent from him to all the neighbouring parishes to furnish each a certain number of bows and arrows; and that being in harvest, the arrows were sent on horseback, attended by some of the boys, all the men being employed in reaping. That he was sent to take care of the horses belonging to Bolton, and saw the arrows delivered at Northallerton; after which he brought home the horses, and in a few days heard that the Scots were defeated and their King slain. Being asked how he had lived, he said by thatching, and salmon fishing ; that when he was served with a subpæna, he was thatching a house; and would dub a hook with any man in Yorkshire. That he had been Butler to Lord Conyners, of Hornby Castle, and that Marmaduke Brodelay, Lord Abbot of Fountains, did frequently visit his Lordship and drink a hearty glass with him. That his Lord often sent him to inquire how the Abbot did, who always sent

for him to his apartment; and after ceremonies (as E, he called) passed, ordered him, besides wassel, a

quarter of a yard of roast beef for his dinner, (for that monastery did deliver their guests' meat by measure), and a great black jack of strong drink. Being further asked, if he remembered the dissolution of religious houses, he said very well, and that he was between thirty and forty years of age, when the order came to dissolve those in Yorkshire. That great lamentation was made, and the country was all in a tumult when the monks were turned out. Jenkins could neither read nor write; he retained his sight and hearing to the last.

Nothing can more clearly prove the age of this

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man than the above account; for James IV, entered England on the 24th of August, 1513, and the Earl of Surrey began his march from York on the first of September. He reviewed his army at Boroughbridge, and halted next day at Northallerton, from whence he marched north, and the battle was fought on the 9th of September, 1513 ; so that if Jenkins was turned of twelve at that time, he must have been born about 1500, and dying in 1670, he was at least one hundred and sixty-nine years of age.

What a multitude of events, says an ingenious author, have crowded themselves into the period of this man's life. He was born when the Roman Catholic religion was established by law. He saw the supremacy of the Pope overturned; the dissolution of monasteries ; Popery established again, and at last the Protestant Religion securely fixed on a rock of adamant. In his time the invincible armada was destroyed; the Republic of Holland formed. Three Queens beheaded, Anne Boylen, Catherine Howard, and Mary Queen of Scots; a King of Spain seated upon the throne of England ; a King of Scotland crowned King of England, at Westminster, and his son beheaded before his own Palace, his family being proscribed as traitors; and last of all the great fire in London, which happened in 1666, at the latter end of his wonderful life.

ON MISS STANLEY.

Here Stanley rests, escap'd this mortal strife,
Above the joys, beyond the woes of life.

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Fierce pangs no more thy lively beauties stain,
And sternly try thee with a year of pain :
No more sweet patience, feigning oft relief,
Lights thy sick eye to cheat a parent's grief;
With tender art, to save her anxious groan,
No more thy bosom presses down its own :
Now, well-earn'd peace is thine and bliss sincere,
Ours be the lenient, not unpleasing tear.
O born to bloom ! then sink beneath the storm,
To shew us Virtue in her fairest form ;
To shew us artless Reason's moral reign,
What boastful Science arrogates in vain ;
The obedient passions knowing each their part,
Calm light the head, and harmony the heart.
Yes, we must follow soon ; we'll glad obey,
When a few suns have roll’d their cares away :
Tir'd with vain life, we'll close the willing eye ;
'Tis the great birth-right of mankind to die.
Bless'd be the bark that wafts us to the shore,
Where death-divided friendship parts no more,
To join thee there, here with thy dust repose,
Is all the hope thy hapless mother knows.

THOMSON.

On a beautiful young LADY, who died December,
1818 ; aged 18 years.
Alas ! 'tis vain that storied marbles tell,
The life-the loss of those we lov'd so well;
Yet

memory hovers o'er a hallow'd name,
And fondly sues for monumental fame.
If early beauty bursting into bloom,
Snatch'd to the sad, safe, refuge of the tomb ;

Way claim the tender tribute of a tear-
Shed the soft sorrow-for there lies one here,
Than whom no brighter e'er beam'd below,
Since Heav'n bade woman's graces chastely glow
But tho' our nature's weakness wrongly weeps,
We mourn not hopeless when a Christian sleeps.
As from the grave the Lord of Glory rose,
In holy triumph o'er his hateful foes ;
So shall the is Dead in Christ" whom purpos'd love,
Hath called and chang’d for blessedness above,
In purer forms and with unclouded eyes,
Behold the blood-bought splendours of the skies ;
And fill’d with joy their loud Hosannahs pour,
To " Him who died, and lives for ever more.”

MULOCK.

In the Abbey Church, Bath ; on MR. JAMES QUIN, the celebrated Actor.

That tongue, which set the table on a roar,
And charm’d the public ear, is heard no more !
Clos'd are those eyes, the harbingers of wit,
Which spoke, before the tongue, what Shakspeare

writ; Clos'd are those hands, which living were stretch'd

forth, At friendship's call, to succour modest worth.

Here lies James Quin ! deign, reader, to be taught, (Whate'er thy strength of body, force of thought), In nature's happiest mould however cast, To this complexion thou must come at last.

GARRICK.

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ON CAPTAIN GRENVILLE.

Ye weeping Muses, graces, virtues, tell,
If since your all accomplish'd Sydney fell;
You, or afflicted Britain e'er deplor'd
A loss like that, these plaintive lays record!
Such spotless honor, such ingenuous truth,
Such ripen’d wisdom in the bloom of youth ;
So mild, so gentle, so compos'd a mind,
To such heroic warmth and courage join'd.
He too like Sydney nurs’d in learning's arms,
For nobler war, forsook her softer charms;
Like him possess'd of every pleasing art,
The secret wish of every female heart;
Like him cut off in youthful glory's pride,
He unrepining for his country died.

LORD LYTTLETON.

ON A POOR BUT HONEST MAN.
Stop, reader, here, and deign a look

On one without a name;
Ne'er enter'd in the ample book

Of fortune, or of fame.
Studious of peace, he hated strife;

Meek virtues fill'd his breast ;
His coat of arms, “ A spotless life,”

“ An honest heart" his crest.
Quarter'd therewith was Innocence ;

And this his motto ran :
“ A conscience void of all offence,

" Before both God and Man."

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