THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN.

My hawk is tired of perch and hood,
My idle grayhound loathes his food,
My horse is weary of his stall,
And I am sick of captive thrall.
I wish I were as I have been,
Hunting the hart in forests green,
With bended bow and bloodhound free,
For that's the life is meet for me.

I hate to learn the ebb of time
From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime,
Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl,
Inch after inch along the wall.
The lark was wont my matins ring,
The sable rook my vespers sing;
These towers, although a king's they be,
Have not a hall of joy for me.

No more at dawning morn I rise,
And sun myself in Ellen's eyes,
Drive the fleet deer the forests through,
And homeward wend with evening dew,
A blithesome welcome blithely meet,
And lay my trophies at her feet,
While fled the eve on wings of glee,-
That life is lost to love and me!

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

ENGLAND AND FRANCE.

BY DOROTHEA JULIA RAMSBOTTOM.

Having often heard travellers lament not having put down what they call the memorybillious of their journeys, I was determined, while I was on my tower, to keep a dairy (so called from containing the cream of one's information), and record everything which recurred to me therefore I begin with my departure from London.

Resolving to take time by the firelock, we left Mountague-place at seven o'clock, by Mr. Fulmer's pocket thermometer, and proceeded over Westminster-bridge, to explode the European continent.

I never pass Whitehall without dropping a tear to the memory of Charles the Second, who was decimated after the rebellion of 1745, opposite the Horse Guards-his memorable speech to Archbishop Caxon rings in my ears whenever I pass the spot-I reverted my head,

and affected to look to see what o'clock it was by the dial on the opposite side of the way.

It is quite impossible not to notice the improvements in this part of the town; the beautiful view which one gets of Westminster Hall, and its curious roof, after which, as everybody knows, its builder was called William Roofus.

Amongst the lighter specimens of modern architecture, is Ashley's Ampletheatre, on your right, as you cross the bridge (which was built, Mr Fulmer told me, by the Court of Arches and the House of Peers). In this ampletheatre there are equestrian performances, so called because they are exhibited nightly-during the

season.

It is quite impossible to quit this 'mighty maze,' as Lady Hopkins emphatically calls London, in her erudite Essay upon Granite, without feeling a thousand powerful sensations -so much wealth, so much virtue, so much vice, such business as is carried on within its precincts, such influence as its inhabitants possess in every part of the civilized world-It really exalts the mind from meaner things, and casts all minor considerations far behind one.

The toll at the Marsh-gate is ris since we last come through—it was here we were to have taken up Lavinia's friend, Mr. Smith, who had promised to go with us to Dover; but we found his servant instead of himself, with a billy, to say he was sorry he could not come, because his friend Sir John Somebody wished him to stay and go down to Poll at Lincoln. I have no doubt this Poll, whoever she may be, is a very respectable young woman; but mentioning her by her Christian name only, in so abrupt a manner, had a very unpleasant appearance at any rate.

Nothing remarkable occurred till we reached the Obstacle in St. George's Fields, where our attention was arrested by those great institutions, the "School for the Indignant Blind," and the "Misanthropic Society" for making shoes, both of which claim the gratitude of the nation.

At the corner of the lane leading to Peckham, I saw that they had removed the Dollygraph, which used to stand upon a declivity to the right of the road-the dollygraphs are all to be superseded by Serampores.

When we came to the Green Man at Blackheath, we had an opportunity of noticing the errors of former travellers, for the heath is green, and the man is black: Mr. Fulmer endeavoured to account for this, by saying, that Mr. Colman has discovered that Moors being black,

As we went near Woolwich we saw at a distance the artillery officers on a common, a firing away with their bombs in mortars like anything.

At Dartford they make gunpowder; here we changed horses; at the inn we saw a most beautiful Rhoderick Random in a pot, covered with flowers; it is the finest I ever saw, except those at Dropmore.-(Note, Rhododendron.) When we got to Rochester we went to the Crown Inn, and had a cold collection: the charge was absorbent-I had often heard my poor dear husband talk of the influence of the Crown, and a Bill of Wrights, but I had no idea what it really meant till we had to pay

one.

As we passed near Chatham I saw several Pitts, and Mr. Fulmer showed me a great many buildings-I believe he said they were fortyfications; but I think there must have been near fifty of them. He also showed us the Lines at Chatham, which I saw quite distinctly, with the clothes drying on them. Rochester was remarkable, in King Charles' time, for being a very witty and dissolute place, as I have read in books.

At Canterbury we stopped ten minutes, to visit all the remarkable buildings and curiosities in it, and about its neighbourhood. The church is beautiful: when Oliver Cromwell conquered William the Third, he perverted it into a stable-the stalls are still standing. The old Virgin who showed us the church wore buckskin breeches and powder; he said it was an archypiscopal sea; but I saw no sea, nor do I think it possible he could see it either, for it is at least seventeen miles off. We saw Mr. Thomas a Beckett's tomb-my poor husband was extremely intimate with the old gentleman, and one of his nephews, a very nice man, who lives near Golden Square, dined with us twice, I think, in London;-in Trinity Chapel is the monument of Eau de Cologne, just as it is now exhibiting at the Diarrea in the Regent's Park.

It was late when we got to Dover: we walked about while our dinner was preparing, looking forward to our snug tête-à-tête of three. We went to look at the sea; so called, perhaps, from the uninterrupted view one has, when upon it. It was very curious to see the locks, to keep in the water here, and the keys, which are on each side of them all ready, I suppose, to open them if they were wanted.

Mr. Fulmer looked at a high place, and

"Half way down

Hangs one that gathers camphire; dreadful trade."

This, I think it but right to say, I did not myself see.

"Methinks he seems no bigger than his head, The fishermen that walk upon the beach Appear like mice."

where we stood, they looked exactly like men, This, again, I cannot quite agree to; for only smaller; which I attribute to the effect of distance-and then Mr. Fulmer said this:

-"And yon tall anchoring bark Diminished to her cock-her cock a boy!"

This latter part I do not in the least understand, nor what Mr. Fulmer meant by cock a boy- however, Lavinia seemed to comprehend it all; for she turned up her eyes, and said something about the immortal bird of heaven; so I suppose they were alluding to the eagles, which doubtless build their aviaries in that white mountain.-(Immortal Bard of Avon, the lady means.)

After dinner we read the Paris Guide, and looked over the list of all the people who had been incontinent during the season, whose names are all put down in a book at the inn, for the purpose-we went to rest much fatigued, knowing that we should be obliged to get up early, to be ready for embrocation in the packet in the morning.

We were, however, awake with the owl, and a walking away before eight; we went to see the castle, which was built, the man told us, by Seizer, so called, I conclude, from seizing whatever he could lay his hands on; the man said, moreover, that he had invaded Britain and conquered it; upon which I told him, that if he repeated such a thing in my presence again, I should write to Mr. Peel about him.

We saw the inn where Alexander, the autograph of all the Russias, lived when he was here; and as we were going along we met twenty or thirty dragons, mounted on horses, and the ensign who commanded them was a friend of Mr. Fulmer's; he looked at Lavinia, and seemed pleased with her Tooting assembly -he was quite a sine qua non of a man, and wore tips on his lips, like Lady Hopkins' poodle.

I heard Mr. Fulmer say he was a son of Marrs; he spoke it as if everybody knew his father; so I suppose he must be the son of the

poor gentleman who was so barbarously murdered some years ago near Ratcliffe Highway; if he is, he is uncommon genteel.

At twelve o'clock we got into a boat and rowed to the packet; it was very fine and clear for the season, and Mr. Fulmer said he should not dislike pulling Lavinia about all the morning. This, I believe, was a naughtycal phrase, which I did not rightly comprehend; because Mr. F. never offered to talk in that way on shore to either of us.

The packet is not a parcel, as I imagined, in which we were to be made up for exportation, but a boat of considerable size; it is called a cutter-why, I do not know, and did not like to ask. It was very curious to see how it rolled about; however, I fell quite mal-apropos; and, instead of exciting any of the soft sensibilities of the other sex, a great unruly man, who held the handle of the ship, bid me lay hold of a companion, and when I sought his arm for protection, he introduced me to a ladder, down which I ascended into the cabin, one of the most curious places I ever beheld, where ladies and gentlemen are put upon shelves, like books in a library, and where tall men are doubled up like boot-jacks before they can be put away at all.

A gentleman in a hairy cap, without his coat, laid me perpendicularly on a mattress, with a basin by my side, and said that was my birth; I thought it would have been my death, for I never was so indisposed in all my life. I behaved extremely ill to a very amiable middle-aged gentleman, with a bald head, who had the misfortune to be attending upon his wife, in the little hole under me.

There was no symphony to be found among the tars (so called from their smell), for just before we went off I heard them throw a painter overboard, and directly after, they called out to one another to hoist up an ensign. I was too ill to inquire what the poor young gentleman had done; but, after I came up stairs, I did not see his body hanging anywhere, so I conclude they had cut him down. I hope it was not young Mr. Marr, a venturing after my Lavy.

I was quite shocked to find what democrats the sailors are: they seem to hate the nobility, and especially the law-lords. The way I discovered this apathy of theirs to the nobility was this: the very moment we lost sight of England and were close to France, they began, one and all, to swear first at the peer and then at the bar, in such gross terms, as made my very blood run cold.

I was quite pleased to see Lavinia sitting

with Mr. Fulmer in the travelling carriage on the outside of the packet. But Lavinia afforded great proofs of her good bringing-up, by commanding her feelings. It is curious what could have agitated the billiary ducks of my stomach, because I took every precaution which is recommended in different books to prevent ill-disposition. I had some muttonchops at breakfast, some Scotch marmalade on bread and butter, two eggs, two cups of coffee, and three of tea, besides toast, a little fried whiting, some potted charr, and a few shrimps; and after breakfast, I took a glass of warm white wine negus and a few oysters, which lasted me till we got into the boat, when I began eating gingerbread-nuts all the way to the packet, and then was persuaded to take a glass of bottled porter, to keep everything snug and comfortable.

When we came near the French shore, a batto (which is much the same as a boat in England) came off to us, and to my agreeable surprise, an Englishman came into our ship; and I believe he was a man of great consequence, for I overheard him explaining some dreadful quarrel which had taken place in our Royal Family.

He said to the master of our ship, that owing to the Prince Leopold's having run foul of the Duchess of Kent while she was in stays, the Duchess had missed Deal. By which I conclude it was a dispute at cards: however, I want to know nothing of state secrets, or I might have heard a great deal more, because it appeared that the Duchess' head was considerably injured in the scuffle.

I was very much distressed to see that a fat gentleman who was in the ship, had fallen into a fit of perplexity by over-reaching himself— he lay prostituted upon the floor, and if it had not been that we had a doctor in the ship, who immediately opened his temporary artery and his jocular vein, with a lancelot, which he had in his pocket, I think we should have seen his end.

It was altogether a most moving spectacle: he thought himself dying, and all his anxiety in the midst of his distress was to be able to add a crocodile to his will, in favour of his niece, about whom he appeared very sanguinary.

It was quite curious to see the doctor fleabottomize the patient, which he did without any accident, although it blew a perfect harríco at the time. I noticed two little children, who came out of the boat with hardly any clothes on them, speaking French like anything; a proof of the superior education given to the

poor in France, to that which they get in England from Doctor Bell of Lancaster.

When we landed at Callous, we were extremely well received, and I should have enjoyed the sight very much, but Mr. Fulmer, and another gentleman in the batto, kept talking of nothing but how turkey and grease disagreed with each other, which, in the then state of my stomach, was far from agreeable.

We saw the print of the foot of Louis Desweet, the French king, where he first stepped when he returned to his country: he must be a prodigious heavy man, to have left such a deep mark in the stone; we were surrounded by Commissioners, who were so hospitable as to press us to go to their houses without any ceremony. Mr. Fulmer showed our passports to a poor old man, with a bit of red ribbon tied to his button-hole, and we went before the mayor, who is no more like a mayor than my foot-boy. Here they took a subscription of our persons, and one of the men said that Lavinia had a jolly manton, at which the clerks laughed, and several of them said she was a jolly feel, which I afterwards understood meant a pretty girl; I misunderstood it for fee, which, being in a public office, was a very natural mistake.

We went then to a place they call the DoAnne, where they took away the poll of my baruch; I was very angry at this, but they told me we were to travel in Lemonade with a biddy, which I did not understand, but Mr. Fulmer was kind enough to explain it to me as we went to the hotel, which is in a narrow street, and contains a garden and court-yard.

I left it to Mr. Fulmer to order dinner, for I felt extremely piquant, as the French call it, and a very nice dinner it was--we had a purey, which tasted very like soup: one of the men said it was made from leather, at least, so I understood, but it had quite the flavour of hare; I think it right here to caution travellers against the fish at this place, which looks very good, but which I have reason to believe is very unwholesome, for one of the waiters called it poison while speaking to the other: the fish was called marine salmon, but it appeared like veal cutlets.

They are so fond of Buonaparte still, that they call the table-cloths Naps, in compliment to him this I remarked to myself, but said nothing about it to anybody else, for fear of consequences.

One of the waiters who spoke English, asked me if I would have a little Bergami, which surprised me, till Mr. Fulmer said, it was the wine he was handing about, when I refused it, preferring to take a glass of Bucephalus.

When we had dined we had some coffee, which is here called Cabriolet; after which, Mr. Fulmer asked if we would have a chasse, which I thought meant a hunting party, and said I was afraid of going into the fields at that time of night-but I found chasse was a lickure called cure a sore (from its healing qualities, I suppose), and very nice it wasafter we had taken this, Mr. Fulmer went out to look at the jolly feels in the shops of Callous, which I thought indiscreet in the cold air, however, I am one as always overlooks the little piccadillies of youth.

When we went to accoucher at night, I was quite surprised in not having a man for a chambermaid; and if it had not been for the entire difference of the style of furniture, the appearance of the place, and the language and dress of the attendants, I should never have discovered that we had changed our country in the course of the day.

In the morning early we left Callous with the Lemonade, which is Shafts, with a very tall post-boy, in a violet-coloured jacket, trimmed with silver; he rode a little horse, which is called a biddy, and wore a nobbed tail, which thumped against his back like a patent self-acting knocker. We saw, near Bullion, Buonaparte's conservatory, out of which he used to look at England in former days.

Nothing remarkable occurred till we met a courier a travelling, Mr. Fulmer said, with despatches; these men were called couriers immediately after the return of the Bonbons, in compliment to the London newspaper, which always wrote in their favour. At Montrule, Mr. Fulmer showed me Sterne's Inn, and there he saw Mr. Sterne himself, a standing at the door, with a French cocked hat upon his head, over a white night-cap. Mr. Fulmer asked if he had any becauses in his house: but he said no; what they were I do not know to this moment.

It is no use describing the different places on our rout, because Paris is the great object of all travellers, and therefore I shall come to it at once-it is reproached by a revenue of trees; on the right of which you see a dome, like that of Saint Paul's, but not so large. Mr. Fulmer told me it was an invalid, and it did certainly look very yellow in the distance; on the left you perceive Mont Martyr, so called from the number of windmills upon it.

I was very much surprised at the height of the houses, and the noise of the carriages in Paris: and was delighted when we got to our hotel, which is called Wag Ram; why, I did

not like to inquire; it is just opposite the Royal Timber-yard, which is a fine building, the name of which is cut in stone-Timbre Royal. The hotel which I have mentioned is in the Rue de la Pay, so called from its being the dearest part of the town. At one end of it is the place Fumdum, where there is a pillow as high as the Trojan's Pillow at Rome, or the pompous in Egypt; this is a beautiful object, and is made of all the guns, coats, waistcoats, hats, boots, and belts which belonged to the French who were killed by the cold in Prussia at the fire of Moscow!

At the top of the pillow is a small apartment, which they call a pavilion, and over that a white flag, which I concluded to be hoisted as a remembrance of Buonaparte, being very like the table-cloths I noticed at Callous.

We lost no time in going into the gardens of the Tooleries, where we saw the statutes at large in marvel: here we saw Mr. Backhouse and Harry Edney, whoever they might be, and a beautiful grope of Cupid and Physic, together with several of the busks which Lavy has copied, the original of which is in the Vaccuum at Rome, which was formerly an office for government thunder, but is now reduced to a stable where the pope keeps his bulls.

Travellers like us, who are mere birds of prey, have no time to waste, and therefore we determined to see all we could in each day, so we went to the great church, which is called Naughty Dam, where we saw a priest doing something at an altar. Mr. Fulmer begged me to observe the knave of the church, but I thought it too hard to call the man names in his own country, although Mr. Fulmer said he believed he was exercising the evil spirits in an old lady in a black cloak.

It was a great day at this church, and we stayed for mass, so called from the crowd of people who attend it-the priest was very much incensed-we waited out the whole ceremony; and heard Tedeum sung, which occupied three hours.

We returned over the Pont Neuf, so called from being the north bridge in Paris, and here we saw a beautiful image of Henry Carter; it is extremely handsome, and quite green-I fancied I saw a likeness to the Carters of Portsmouth; but if it is one of his family, his posteriors are very much diminished in size and figure.

A beautiful statute of Apollo with the Hypocrite pleased me very much, and a Fawn, which looks like a woman, done by Mons. Praxytail, a French stone-mason, is really curious.

A picture of the Bicknells is, I suppose, a family grope; but the young women appeared tipsy, which is an odd state to be drawn in. The statute of Manylaws is very fine, and so is Cupid and Physic, different from the one which I noticed before.

Mr. Fulmer showed us some small old black pictures, which I did not look at much, because he told us they were Remnants, and of course very inferior. A fine painting, by Carlo my Hearty, pleased me; and we saw also something, by Sall Vatarosa, a lady, who was somehow concerned with the little woman I have seen at Peckham Fair, in former days, called Lady Morgan.

Mr. Fulmer proposed that we should go and dine at a tavern called Very-because everything is very good there; and accordingly we went, and I never was so malapropos in my life: there were two or three ladies quite in nubibus; but when I came to look at the bill of fare, I was quite anileated, for I perceived that Charlotte de Pommes might be sent for one shilling and twopence, and Patty de Veau for half-a-crown. I desired Mr. Fulmer to let us go; but he convinced me there was no harm in the place, by showing me a dignified clergyman of the Church of England and his wife, a eating away like anything.

We had a voulez vous of fowl, and some sailor's eels, which were very nice, and some pieces of crape, so disguised by the sauce that nobody who had not been told what it was, would have distinguished them from pancakes; after the sailor's eels, we had some pantaloon cutlets, which were savoury: but I did not like the writing paper; however, as it was a French custom, I eat every bit of it; they call sparrowgrass here asperge, I could not find out why.

If I had not seen what wonderful men the French cooks are, who actually stew up shoes with partridges, and make very nice dishes too, I never could have believed the influence they have in the politics of the country: everything is now decided by the cooks, who make no secret of their feelings, and the party who are still for Buonaparte call themselves traitors, while those who are partizans of the Bonbons are termed Restaurateurs, or friends of the Restoration.

After dinner, a French monsheur, who, I thought, was a waiter, for he had a bit of red ribbon at his button-hole, just the same as one of the waiters had, began to talk to Mr. Fulmer, and it was agreed we should go to the playthey talked of Racing and Cornhill, which made me think the monsheur had been in England; however, it was arranged that we