himself to redeem his wasted time, and to cultivate the talents he possessed; but Niger was his only friend,―he ridiculed his regrets, and persuaded him to spend the autumn at his father's, where he expected some capital fellows," and a very good season. He said, "You have never been to a public school, you know, and you will find it very hard work to get decently through Oxford; you will most likely be plucked for your great go, because you have had no time for reading; so come with me, there's a good fellow, throw care away, and take my example, and think no more of that stupid place, Oxford." Charles accordingly accompanied him, with a disturbed and undecided mind.

While staying with the Nigers, he chanced to meet, at some of the country festivities, a family named Selwin. The head of the family was a man of engaging manners, high principles, and cultivated tastes. He had been a barrister of celebrity, but had now retired to the scenes of domestic repose. Two of the sons were in the church, and the daughter, the graceful and accomplished Emily, made their delightful dwelling a charmed spot. Charles was fascinated: the good that was in him seemed ready to spring forth and bud at the sight of so much that he really admired. He soon laid his case before the enchantress, whose magic wand had changed him into a higher being; and she would have listened; but a cold pause ensued counsels were divided, and the head of the house, after mature deliberation, calmly and decisively rejected him the acquaintance had been of short standing, and the lady thought it right to abide by the decision of her father.

This was a most severe shock. Charles, how ever, did not abandon all hopes: when the first tempest of sorrow had passed, he formed resolutions for improvement and usefulness; but, as he was still possessed by these pleasing dreams, young Niger made his appearance. "I thought you were going to marry Miss Selwin," he said. "Nobody

else thought so, then,” answered Charles, in an unusually sullen tone. "Well, it was talked about, at all events. Watkins said he thought it was a pity you should throw yourself away so, they are such a strait-laced particular set: he said, too, she had no mind; but that is a great mistake, she has a tremendous mind, and writes poetry, and all that sort of thing, don't she? That's what I thought had caught you. However, I am glad to find it is all incorrect, for she has married Sir Richard Evelyn."

Charles concealed his feelings; nor will we attempt to describe that one fearful storm by which all was destroyed. He handed himself over to his unprincipled friend; he was hurried from one amusement to another; careless and unsuspecting, he was shamelessly pillaged; the losses he sustained on the turf induced him to make fresh trials of his luck; he soon became deeply involved, and at last his creditors became clamorous, and his legal adviser recommended him to escape to the continent until arrangements could be made.

"To escape!" he cried, "disgraced, degraded, and heart-broken, I am to escape to concealment! No, let me die rather in prison."

"Ah, my mother! my mother!" rose the feeble voice from the young man's death-bed; "thank God, you have departed before me!"

It was anciently customary on Palm Sunday to cast cakes from the steeple of the parish church, the boys scrambling for them below, to the great amusement of the bystanders. Stow records that in the week before the woods, and fetching into the king's house a twisted Easter, there were great shows in London for going to tree or withe; and the like into the house of every man "of honour or worship."

In a work published at the end of the last century, it is related, that, on the Saturday before Palm Sunday, the boys of the Grammar School of Lanark, according to ancient custom, parade the streets with a palm, or its substitute, a large tree of the willow kind, in blossom, ornamented with daffodils, mezereon, and box-tree. A correspondent in Hone's Every Day-Book describes the following singular ceremony at Caistor Church, Lincolnshire, on Palm Sunday. A deputy from Broughton brings a very large ox-whip which is constructed thus :— the top, forms the stock; it is wrapt with a white leather A large piece of ash, or any other wood, tapered towards half way down, and some small pieces of mountain ash are enclosed. The thong is very large, and made of strong white leather. The man comes to the north porch, about the commencement of the first lesson, and cracks his whip in front of the porch door three times : he then wraps the thong round the stock of the whip, puts some rods of mountain ash lengthwise upon it, and binds the whole together with whipcord. He next ties to the top of the whip-stock a purse containing two shillings, (formerly this sum was in twenty-four silver pennies,) then taking the whole upon his shoulder he marches into the church, where he stands in front of the reading-pew till the commencement of the second lesson: of the clergyman, kneels down on a cushion, and conhe then goes up nearer, waves the purse over the head tinues in that position, with the purse suspended over the clergyman's head, till the lesson is ended. After Divine Service is concluded, he carries the whip, &c. to the manor-house of Undon, a hamlet adjoining, where he leaves it. There is a new whip made at Broughton every year, and left, as above related, at Undon. Certain lands in the parish of Broughton are held by the tenure of this annual usage.

In the churchyard of Crowhurst, 'on the borders of Kent and Surrey, near the east end of the church, is an yards and nine inches in girth, at the height of five feet enormous and very ancient yew tree, measuring ten from the ground. The interior is hollow, and has been fitted up with a table in the centre, and benches around for as many as sixteen persons. From time immemorial this tree has been regarded as the head-quarters of good fortune; and it is the custom of the peasantry to assemble on Palm Sunday beneath the shades of its venerable branches, to hold a wake or fair, and to dance about the tree and the old tombs in its neighbourhood, with palm branches of the willow in their hands. This done, the grand duty of the day has been performed, and the poor people separate with something of the feeling of those who have made a thank-offering. Formerly, excesses were frequently committed on the occasion, through the sale of liquors; but of late years the fair has been conducted with great decorum. At present, the festival is associated with a collectionsermon in the church for the Duchess of Marlborough's Almshouses at St. Alban's.

The above particulars are taken from the Illustrated London News, Vol. VI. No. 151, which contains a woodengraving of the yew tree, &c.

RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCES.

"On Palm Sunday," says an old Homily, "Holy Church maketh procession, in mind of the procession CHRIST made this day; but as we have no olive, we take palm, and welcome Him with song into Church, as they welcomed Him into the city of Jerusalem." Another reason is given why every christian man should take part in this solemnity; namely, "in token that he hath fought the fiend, and gotten the victory." We learn from authentic sources that during the monastic times of England, the palms (or rather sprigs of box and yew,) designed for the use of the Clergy, having been laid on the high altar, and those to be held by the Laity on the south step of the same, were hallowed by the priest or bishop vested in a crimson cope, with prayer and benediction; sprinkled with holy water; perfumed with incense; and then distributed among the faithful, who carried them along the streets, which were strewn with flowers and decked with tapestry. When the procession had moved through the town or city, it returned to church, where mass was celebrated, and the "palms were offered on the altar. "On Palm Sunday," says the author of Morus," after reading out of The History of CHRIST, every one bore his palm, and nothing else was heard but the sufferings of the MESSIAH." The permission granted to the laity to join in her majestic processions affords an example, among many, of the wisdom of the ancient Church. "The man," observes a late writer," who taper in hand, or bearing the mystic palm, had paraded along the vaulted aisle, felt himself bound by additional ties to that communion, with which he had not merely worshipped, but in whose most imposing ceremonies he had actually taken a part." The observances of Palm Sunday are thus improved (in modern parlance,) by S. Bernard: "We should meet CHRIST," he says, "by keeping innocency, bear olive by doing works of mercy, carry palms by conquering the devil and our vices; green leaves and flowers we carry, if we be adorned with virtues; and we strew our garments in the way, when by mortification we put off the old man." There is no reason to suppose that these customs were at any time very general. The practice of bearing palms on Palm Sunday was retained in England, after some other ceremonies were forbidden, and was one of those which Henry VIII., in 1536, declared were not to be contemned and cast away. A proclamation, printed and dated 26th February, in the thirtieth year of the reign of that monarch, contains the following clause :"On Palm Sunday it shall be declared, that bearing of palms reneweth the memory of the receiving of CHRIST into Jerusalem before His death." In Howes's edition of Stow's Chronicle, it is stated, under the year 1548, that "this year the ceremony of bearing of palms, on Palm Sunday, was left off, and not used as before." "Palms," says Hone, "or, to speak properly, slips of the willow, with its velvet-looking buds, are sometimes still stuck in churches on Palm Sunday." Brand observes, that it is yet customary with boys, both in the south and north of England, to go out and gather slips with the willow flowers or buds at this time. And Hone records that it is usual" with men and boys to go a palming in London early on Palm Sunday morning." "This usage," he adds, "remains among the ignorant from poor neighbourhoods; but there is still to be found a basket woman or two at Covent Garden, and in the chief markets, with branches of the willow or sallow, on the Saturday before Palm Sunday, which they sell to those who are willing to buy; but the demand of late years has been very little, and hence the quantity on sale is very small."

(1) Some of the "palms" were consumed for ashes to be laid on the heads of the people with the sacerdotal blessing, on the AshWednesday in the following year.

April 6-is the Monday in Passion Week, (1846.) This week is thus designated on account of its being dedicated to the contemplation of the REDEEMER'S sufferings and death.

During this sacred period, the chant became more solemn, no altar was decorated, no bell sounded, and no pompous equipage rolled in the streets. Princes and vassals, rich and poor, went on foot in habits of deep mourning. Legal proceedings were suspended, sovereigns ordained that prisons should be opened, pardon granted to criminals, and insolvent debtors discharged. S. Chrysostom says, that the Emperor Theodosius sent letters of remission to the cities for the days preceding Easter, a custom which was observed by his successors, who, as S. Leo the Great remarks, made the altitude of their power stoop in honour of the passion and resurrection of CHRIST, and tempered the severity of the laws during the days on which the world was redeemed, in order to imitate the divine mercy. In France, also, in the seventh century, this custom was observed. Subsequently, the same indulgence was granted on the days preceding Christmas and Whitsuntide.

April 9.-Maunday Thursday, (1846.) Maunday, or Maundy Thursday, termed also SHERE THURSDAY, is the day before Good Friday. Its second appellation seems to have arisen from the practice which the monks and clergy made of cutting and trimming their hair and beards on this day, "and so make them honest against Easter." Some writers suppose Maunday Thursday to be a corruption of mandate Thursday: dies mandati being its ancient name, in allusion to the mandate of our SAVIOUR to His disciples to offer the Holy Eucharist; and to his other mandate, after He had washed their feet, to love one another, both which commands were given on this day. Others suggest that it seems most probably to have been derived from maund, a Saxon word for a basket, in consequence of the distribution of gifts on this day in baskets-the word maundy, used by old authors for alms or gifts, being, apparently, derived in its turn from the above charitable practice. "In an old jest-book," says a journalist, before cited, "there is a story of a rich merchant dictating a testament to a scrivener, while a poor nephew stood by, hoping to hear of something to his advantage. While the testator was still enumerating the debts due to him, the nephew cried, Ha, ha! what saith my uncle now?-does he now make his maundies?' 'No,' answered the cool man of business, he is yet in his demands."" This is an example of the secondary meaning; of the first, we have instances in Bishop Hall speaking of "a maund charged with household merchandise," and Shakespeare saying, " A thousand favours from her maund she drew." A maund seems to have been a basket much like our modern hamper.

6

After receiving the Sacrament of Maunday Thursday, archbishops and priests, kings and princes, in imitation of their REDEEMER, proceeded to wash the feet of the poor, and to wait upon them at table. At Durham Abbey, anterior to the Reformation, the prior, laying aside his jewelled rings, poured water from the rich silver ewer on the feet of eighteen aged mendicants, gave each thirty pence, and seven red herrings, and "did serve them with drink, three loaves of bread, and certain wafer cakes." Cardinal Wolsey, at Peterborough Abbey, in 1530, " made his maund in our Lady's chapel, having fifty-nine poor men, whose feet he washed and kissed; and, after he had wiped them, he gave every of the said poor men twelve pence in money, three ells of good canvass to make them shirts, a pair of new shoes, a cast of red herrings, and three white herrings; and one of these had two shillings." About the same period, the Earl of Northumberland, on Maundy Thursday, gave to each of as many poor men as he was years old, and one over, a gown with a hood, a linen shirt, a platter with meat, an ashen cup filled with wine, and a

leathern purse containing as many pennies as he was years old, and one over; besides miscellaneous gifts to be distributed in like manner, in name of his lady and his sons. Edward the Third, in 1363, appears to have been the first English monarch who introduced into this country the practice of feeding, clothing, and giving money to indigent persons on this day; and many successive sovereigns used also, in order to show their humility, to wash the feet of those selected as the proper objects of their munificence. Queen Elizabeth, when in her thirty-ninth year, performed this pious observance at her palace at Greenwich, on which occasion she was attended by thirty-nine ladies and gentlewomen. Thirty-nine poor persons being assembled, their feet were first washed by the yoeman of the laundry, in a silver basin, filled with warm water and sweet flowers, next by the sub-almoner, then by the almoner, and, finally, by the Queen herself (" after some singing, and prayers made, and the gospel of CHRIST's washing of His disciples feet, read"), kneeling. These various persons, the yeoman of the laundry, the sub-almoner, almoner, and her Majesty, after washing each foot, wiped it, marked it with the sign of the cross above the toes, and then kissed it. Clothes, victuals, and money, were then bestowed. This interesting ceremonial is described at length in the Hierurgia Anglicana, pp. 282, 283. James II. is said to have been the last of our monarchs who observed the above rite in person. William of Orange left the washing to his almoner; and such was the arrangement for many years afterwards. On Maunday Thursday, 1731, George II. being then in his forty-eighth year, "there was distributed, at the Banqueting House, Whitehall, to forty-eight poor men, and forty-eight poor women, boiled beef and shoulders of mutton, and small bowls of ale, which is called dinner; after that, large wooden platters of fish and loaves; viz. undressed, one large old ling, and one large dried cod, twelve red herrings, and four half-quartern loaves. Each person had one platter of this provision; after which were distributed to them, shoes, stockings, linen and woollen cloth, and leathern bags, with one-penny, two-penny, three-penny, and four-penny pieces of silver, and shillings, to each about four pounds in value. His Grace the Lord Archbishop of York, Lord High 'Almoner, performed the annual ceremony of washing the feet of the poor, in the Royal Chapel, Whitehall, as was formerly done by the kings themselves." (Gentle man's Magazine, 1731.) For many years the washing of the feet has been entirely discontinued, and since the beginning of the present reign, an additional sum of money has been given, instead of provisions. In the ancient account-books of the various noble families of England, we always find a liberal sum entered as "given at ye maundy."

Each year at Rome, on Maundy Thursday, the altar of the Capilla Paolina is illuminated with more than 4000 wax tapers; and the Sovereign Pontiff and Cardinals go thither in procession, bringing the Host along with them, and leaving it there. Then the pope blesses the people, and commemorates our Blessed LORD'S humility towards his disciples.

At Moscow, the Archbishop takes off his robes, girds up his loins with a towel, and proceeds to wash the feet of twelve monks, designed to represent the Apostles, until he comes to the representative of S. Peter, who rises, and the same dialogue takes place between him and the prelate, as between that Apostle and our Saviour. The ceremony is performed in the cathedral, which is crowded with spectators. One of the public sights at Seville on this day, is the splendid cold dinner which the Archbishop gives to twelve poor persons. The dinner is to be seen, laid out on tables filling two large rooms of the archiepiscopal palace. The twelve guests are completely clothed at the expense of their host; and having partaken of a more homely dinner in the kitchen, they are furnished with large baskets to take away the splendid commons (allotted to each

in separate dishes), which they sell to the gourmands of the town. At two in the afternoon, the Archbishop, attended by his chapter, repairs to the cathedral, where he performs the ceremony, which, from the opinion of its being literally enjoined by CHRIST, is called the mandatum. The twelve paupers are seated on a platform erected before the high altar, and the prelate, stripped of his silk robes, and kneeling successively before each, washes their feet in a large silver basin. "From the Gloria in excelsis of the mass of Maundy Thursday, till that of the mass of Easter-eve, our bells," says Dr. Challoner, "are silent throughout the Catholic Church, because we are now mouring for the passion of CHRIST. Our altars are also uncovered, and stript of all their ornaments, because CHRIST, our true altar, hung naked upon the cross." In answer to the inquiry, "What is the meaning of visiting the sepulchres upon Maundy Thursday?" the same person observes, "The place where the blessed Sacrament is preserved in the church, in order for the office of Good Friday (on which there is no consecration), is by the people called the sepulchre, as representing, by anticipation, the burial of CHRIST. And where there are many churches, the faithful make their stations to visit our LORD in these sepulchres, and meditate on the different stages of His passion." This devotion was encouraged by the indulgences which the Church attached to its observance. "It is still," says a modern Romanist, 66 a practice observed in France, to pass the night within the tomb, in adoration of the sacramental Presence there. During the day, the streets of cities wonder at the unaccustomed spectacle of holy recluses and devout women, in the habits of their respective orders, who, throughout the whole year, are never seen beyond the cloisters, excepting on this occasion." At Genoa, twenty-one confraternities of devout laics proceed in procession, after vespers, to the sepulchre of the metropolitan church, carrying lighted tapers, crosses, and various mystic emblems, curiously wrought.

In

THE MAN OVERBOARD. (From Letters from Italy, by J. T. Headley.) THE pleasure of our passage was much marred by the loss of a man overboard. When within a few hundred miles of the Azores, we were overtaken by a succession of severe squalls. Forming almost instantaneously on the horizon, they moved down like phantoms on the ship. For a few moments after one struck us, we would be buried in foam and spray, and then heavily rolling on a heavy sea. We, however, prepared ourselves, and soon got everything snug. The light sails were all in; the jibs, topgallants, and spanker, furled close; the main-sail clewed up, and we were crashing along under close-reefed topsails alone, when a man, who was coming down from the last reef, slipped, as he stepped on the bulwarks, and went over backwards into the waves. a moment, that most terrific of all cries at sea, A man overboard! a man overboard!" flew like lightning over the ship. I sprung upon the quarter deck just as the poor fellow, with his "fearful human face," riding the top of a billow, fled past. In an instant, all was commotion; plank after plank was cast over for him to seize and sustain himself on, till the ship could be put about, and the boat lowered. The first mate, a bold, fiery fellow, leaped into the boat that hung at the side of the quarter deck, and, in a voice so sharp and sternI seem to hear it yet-shouted, "In men-in men!" But the poor sailors hung back-the sea was too wild. The second mate sprung to the side of the first, and the men, ashamed to leave both their officers alone, followed. "Cut away the lashings," exclaimed the officer; the knife glanced around the ropes, the boat fell to the water, rose on a huge wave far over the deck, and drifted rapidly astern. I thought it could not live a moment