were absurd and insolent enough to bid her, as a penance, walk barefoot to Tyburn, and pray upon the spot for those of her own religion who had been executed there for treason.

This is mentioned in a little book entiiled, "The Life and Death of Henrietta Maria de Bourbon, Queen to that Blessed King and Martyr, Charles the first;" it is "dedicated and devoted to the most high and mighty Monarch, the Grand Exemplar of Magnanimity, Majesty, and Mercy, Charles the second;" and this is somewhat remarkable, as it did not appear till after his death, James the second being mentioned in the title-page.

The muttering of some is spoken of, who said they, "could discern no cause of joy in her being pregnant, God having better provided for us in the hopeful progeny of the Queen of Bohemia." It is no wonder that such mutterers were called seandalous and seditious at the time; but it must be admitted now, that they spake

with that wise foresight which may be called political prophecy.

55. The worst of all Puns.

At Nuremburg a wolf's tooth was shown to travellers (such, says Keysler, as in, some places is given to children instead. of a coral when they cut their teeth) on which an Abbé is represented lying dead in a meadow, with three lilies growing out of his posteriors. This is not only the worst pun that ever was carved upon a wolf's tooth, but the worst that ever' was or will be made. The Abbé is designed to express the Latin word Habe, He' is lying dead in a meadow,.. mort en pré ; this is for mortem præ; and the three li lies in his posteriors are to be read oculis, ..au cu lis. Thus, according to the annexed explanation, the whole pun, rebus, or hieroglyphic, is Habe mortem præ oculis.

Charles VIIth of France, when Dauphin, bore upon his standard a device which was in a similar taste, though not so

rich a specimen of it. He was in love with a virtuous damsel, the daughter of Messire Guillaume Cassinel; she was usually called La Cassinelle after her father's name, and the Prince expressed his affection for her by bearing on his standard, in gold, un K, un cigne et une L. Juvenal Des Ursins.

56. Poem attributed to Sir Walter Ra

legh.

Mr. Cayley, in his life of Ralegh, inserts the following poem, which is said to have been written by Sir Walter the night preceding his execution.

MY PILGRIMAGE.

Give me my scallop-shell of quiet,
My staff of faith to walk upon,
My scrip of joy,.. immortal diet;
My bottle of salvation,

My gown of glory, hopes true gage,
And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.

Blood must be my bodies balmer,
While my soul, like quiet palmer,
Travelleth toward the land of heaven;
No other balm will here be given.

Over the silver mountains

Where spring the nectar fountains,

There will I kiss

The bowl of bliss,

And drink mine everlasting fill

Upon every milken hill;

My soul will be a dry before,
But after, it will thirst no more.

I'll take them first

To quench my thirst,

And taste of nectars suckets

At those clear wells

Where sweetness dwells,

Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets.

Then by that happy blestful day,

More peaceful pilgrims I shall see, That have cast off their rags of clay,

And walk apparelled fresh like me.

And when our bodies and all we
Are fill'd with immortality,
Then the bless'd paths we'll travel,
Strew'd with rubies thick as gravel,
Ceilings of dimond, sapphire flowers,
High walls of coral, pearly bowers.
From thence to heaven's bribeless hall,
Where no corrupted voices brawl,
No conscience molten into gold,
No forged accuser bought or sold,

No cause deferr'd, no vain-spent journey,
For there Christ is the king's attorney;
Who pleads for all without degrees;

And he hath angels, but no fees,

And when the twelve grand million jury
Of our sins, with direful fury
Against our souls black verdicts give,
Christ pleads his death, and then we live.

Be thou my speaker, taintless pleader!
Unblotted lawyer! true proceeder!
Thou wouldst salvation e'en for alms,
Not with a bribed lawer's palms.

And this is mine eternal plea

To him that made heaven, earth, and sea;
That since my flesh must die so soon,“

And want a head to dine next noon,

Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread,
Set on my soul an everlasting head!"

Then am I ready, like a palmer fit,

To tread those bless'd paths which before I writ,
Of death and judgment, heaven and hell,

Who oft doth think, must needs die well. 3

The germ of the first stanza is to be found in P. Louis Richeome's Pilgrim of Loreto. "Our Pilgrim," he says, "shall allegorize all the parts of his furniture and apparel, and shall attire his soul to