top of a tall steeple in process of erection.) It was a golden epoch in your life when the requisite amount of coppers had accumulated in your stone money-jug, to enable you to ascend the stairs with impunity, and to return the stare of the old lamp-black heroes that leaned from the wall to guard the entrance.

But, after all, it was somewhat fearful to find yourself alone, surrounded by the silence and immensity of this wonderful place-knowing that a real stuffed alligator lay concealed somewhere, and that Miss McCrea was constantly being murdered by Indians somewhere else. The grim heads began to be cheerful company, when contrasted with the unknown horrors beyond-occupying a locality favoring flight, in case anything wicked or supernatural should suddenly appear. It was this feeling of indefinable dread that prompted you to study a whirlwind of paint denominated a naval engagement, in which Decatur was supposed to be leaving his ship in a jolly-boat (although nothing of the kind could be made out), with a very uneasy sense of satisfaction. It would have been presumptuous to have doubted the merit of that picture then; but, as you have since picked up some knowledge of art, the conviction has forced itself upon your mind that it was no more than a miserable daub; and that old Time, considering it unworthy of those mellowing touches it is his wont to bestow on paintings, had, in a fit of indignation, knocked it black and blue at once. You mustered a little courage, slowly, and ventured to look around.

That case of ancient shoes, with an astonishing variety of heels and toes, attracted less of your attention, perhaps, than did a large, jagged, sulphursuggesting rock, which, you were assured by a label, came down from the sky! Even now, you do not feel particularly grateful to the Old Museum for that bit of scientific information; for a duplicate stone has acted a prominent part in numerous dreams, and you have, more or less, expected it to come crashing through the roof of your dwelling, sometime in the night season. strange, dingy men-of-war, every rope perfect, made by sailors, while off on tedious whaling-voyages, were deeply interesting, but not so marvelous, perhaps, as a long wooden chain, the links

Those

of which were interspersed with balls, in impossible situations. The chain was especially fascinating, for the reason that it was executed with a jack-knife, in the hands of a convict, whose original sentence had been commuted to imprisonment for life, and who employed his leisure moments in this ingenious manner, in order that he might keep his mind occupied, and live through it. A light bark canoe, ornamented with beads, and containing savage-looking war-clubs, came in for a share of inspection, and you felt bound to believe that whole families of sanguinary SouthSea Islanders had paddled the affair in various directions, for the purpose of feeding upon the members of other tribes, with whom they had a hereditary misunderstanding. The old continental coat said to have been worn by General Putnam, when he clattered down the rocks at Stamford, and the crimson-clad British fired from above, conflicted slightly with the account in the school history, showing as it did, if we recollect, sixty-three perforations in the back (done by the royalists, the Christian proprietor claimed), of which the compilation for youth made no mention thus leaving it an open question, whether the historian, the owner of the museum, or the moths had the right of it. There was an electrical machine in one of the apartments, and a cameraobscura up in the cupola-but these were so shockingly out of repair that they left no vivid impression upon the mind. If you mounted a chair, stood on tip-toe, and dislocated your neck, highly-colored pictures of cities could be seen by gazing through little round windows-London, Glasgow, Paris, Naples, Rome, Pekin, and so on; but as there was a good deal of sameness in these pictorial cities, you concluded it was just about as well to live in your native town, as to see Naples and die."

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A baby with two largely-developed heads, dancing a polka in a glass jar, and habitually under the influence of spirits, was too fantastic to be looked at for any length of time; and it was pleasant to turn to the contemplation of a ferocious wild boar, with glaring eyes and tremendous tusks, which seemed on the eve of attacking a wonderfully large and majestic elephant, just opposite. The mammoth shark, suspended from the ceiling, you strong

ly suspected of being the same old fish that bit off the legs of Mr. Campbell (as related in the National Reader), when he very imprudently disregarded the advice of friends, and, at the close of a sultry day, plunged from the deck of a ship into a tropical sea, and had an end put to his foolish existence. Passing the ruins of a mastodon-skillfully constructed from the osseous portion of the before-mentioned elephant, and patched with the bones of that useful animal, the horse--the youthful visitor arrived at a window-fronted room, and, shading his eyes, saw the most horribly-attractive combination of curiosities that the Old Museum had to offer, at any price. No young person, who ever saw them, can have forgotten those painted and feather-bedecked savages, brandishing tomahawks and scalping-knives around the disheveled head of the kneeling Miss McCrea, or those two tears of the magnitude of marbles, resting upon her pale and beautiful cheeks! And there was Black Hawk, in a blue frock-coat, adorned with glittering U. S. navy buttons, a long red sash, and other evidences of refinement. Why, oh! why rushed he not in to save the unfortunate

young lady, instead of standing in one corner of the forest, watching a fragment of ragged anaconda, and a poor, dusty little pelican?

We sincerely believe that group of wax statuary has only been surpassed in modern times by a couple of families once owned by the St. Helena showman: one of which was intended to illustrate the evils of drinking too freely, and the other designed to show the blessings likely to flow from using cold water exclusively as a beverage--but both so excessively disagreeable that the spectator was left in doubt as to which domestic circle had the advantage.

When you came out of this collection of wonders, and stood in the sunshine and bustle of the principal street (after a seeming absence of several days), you could not but feel a mingled sentiment of surprise and pity towards a schoolmate, who was squandering his property for a pine-apple, at the corner confectionery, as the money thus invested would, more wisely expended, have carried him triumphantly into the Old Museum. Very likely he had already been in. Yes, but why didn't he go in again?

The Old Museum was not a remunerative enterprise-museums never are-and one day an auctioneer scattered the rare and valuable things all over town -some of the more antique and delicate specimens (like birds) to the winds. The elephant, we remember, was run up to a high figure, in a jocular way, and knocked down, seriously, to a young gentleman of limited means and exuberant animal spirits. As the elephant, notwithstanding its enormous size, had been the germ of the museum, the rest of that excellent institution had gradually grown up around it, and the huge quadruped had come to be shut off from the outer world by an exceedingly complicated series of improvements; and the rash bidder nearly ruined himself in paying the host of men required to cut away partitions, lower his prize from the fifth story of the Exchange, and transport it to his residence-for years and years had passed away since the imposing brute, glorious in scarlet and silver, had led the van of a caravan, rolling to the clang of cymbals and bugles, and his hide was as rigid as sheet-iron. The aggregate outlay was essentially increased by the building of an elevated

mound of earth and masonry for the majestic animal to stand upon, in the garden of its owner. But the young and volatile citizens soon ceased to admire the grandeur of the spectacle, and devoted their hours of recreation to hurling stones at the venerable effigy; and so the possessor, having contracted a deep disgust for his purchase, and no little anxiety for his life, secured the shavings and sticks with which the monster was stuffed (ivory previously removed) and had the whilom wanderer among African jungles tipped, legs up, into an adjoining lot. The noble beast, however, still retained its shape, and, with its feet in the air, appeared to be throwing out the pantomimic invitation to community: "Come on, with your dead cats and all sorts of contemptible rubbish -it won't be noticed while I am here; this is the spot for rusty stove-pipe, defunct dogs, and lobster-shells; here's the place for trash-come on!" And then the neighbors entered a complaint; and that was the reason, which has never before been satisfactorily explained, why the nuisance-committee took hold of the matter, and made the owner of the brave old elephant pay a heavy fine.

IN former times-or, to name a definite period, we shall say in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, ere paper money was introduced-it was customary, in the great commercial cities of Italy, and very likely, also, in those of other European countries, for a bag, purporting to contain a certain sum of gold or silver money, to pass from hand to hand, without its contents being examined or counted, on the credit of the little label attached to it, specifying how much there was, or ought to be, within. This saved a great deal of trouble; and when, at length, it might become necessary, from any cause, to count the money, and a deficiency should be found, either in the tale, weight, or standard, why, then, the holder had his remedy against the person from whom he got the bag, and might recover from him the deficiency-if he could. What the label was to the old leathern money-bag, such has been the term "Venerable" to the character, literary, moral, and religious, of the old monk of Jarrow. From the customary influence of this little word

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venerable," though the old Miracle Trading Company, by which it was sanctioned, if not originally imposed, has greatly declined in credit; and from the ponderosity of Bede's bag, his works, to wit, in eight volumes folio, appalling to even the most assiduous teller, its contents have been very seldom examined; and, though hints have, from time to time, been given by a few who had had the curiosity to look into it with some degree of attention, that it was not filled exclusively with the precious metals, it has yet been sealed up again and put into circulation at pretty nearly its old nominal value. Dropping here the metaphorical bag, we shall proceed to give a few particulars relating to Venerable Bede, illustrative of his times, his knowledge, and his writings.

Bede was born, A. D. 637, in that part of the Saxon kingdom of Northumberland which now forms the county of Durham; and, according to tradition, in the neighborhood of Monkton, a village about two miles to the southwestward of Jarrow, in the monastery of which he died, A. D. 735. Jarrow church, which originally belonged to the monastery of Jarrow, is one of the

oldest in the kingdom; it was founded, in 681, by Benedict Biscop, who had founded another monastery at Wearmouth, dedicated to St. Peter, about seven years before. According to an inscription, of the period, now placed within Jarrow church, over the arch of the tower, it was dedicated "to St. Paul, on the 9th of the kalends of May, in the 15th year of King Egfrid, and in the 4th of Ceolfrid, abbot of the said church," that is, on the 22d April, 685.

The form of religion, which then passed for Christianity, having been introduced to the Saxons of the south by the monk Augustine, under the auspices of Pope Gregory the Great, in 596, and those of the north having been converted also by the monks, within the course of the succeeding forty yearsthe bishopric of Lindisfurn having been founded in 635—a profession of monkery appears to have become extremely prevalent among the new converts, and more especially those who were of royal or noble birth. Monasteries were founded in various parts of the kingdom by persons of wealth or influence, of both sexes, who, gathering together a colony of monks and nuns, not unfrequently under the same roof, withdrew from the cares and vanities of the great world, to devote themselves to a life of holy celibacy and pious seclusion, and, possibly, to enjoy the pleasure of administering the affairs of a little world of their own. That many good and sincerely pious persons found in such places a refuge from the anxieties of secular life, there can be no question; but it is also certain that many of the professed still retained the vices and bad passions which they brought with them, whether from the country or the court; for, since to "a spotless mind and innocent,"

"Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;"

so neither are the consecrated walls of a monastery a restraint on the cogitations of a mind that is impure.

"What exile from his native land
E'er left himself behind ?"

Amongst the best deserving of those of that age who pleased themselves by

founding monasteries, Benedict Biscop may justly claim a place. He was of noble family, and had held an office under King Oswy; but he renounced all secular honors in order to devote himself to religion. He became a monk, having received the tonsure in the celebrated monastery of Lerins, in Provence; and, after having visited Rome twice or thrice, he commenced the foundation of the monastery at Wearmouth in 674, having obtained from King Egfrid a grant of land in order to enable him to carry his design into effect. He sent to France for masons to build the church; and he also sent to the same country for glaziers to glaze the windows-this art, according to Bede, being then unknown in England. He decorated the interior of the church with paintings which he had brought from Rome; one wall being covered with pictures of the Virgin and the twelve apostles, and others with subjects from the Evangelists and Revelations, together with representations of the Last Judgment and the Mystery of the Incarnation, so that the humble disciple might feel his faith confirmed wherever he turned. He further enriched his new establishment with many relics and books which he had obtained abroad; and he also brought from Rome Brother John to officiate as leader of the choir, and to instruct the monks in chanting the service.

Into this monastery (Wearmouth), Bede entered as an alumnus, or pupil, when he was only seven years old. At the age of nineteen he was ordained a deacon by John of Beverly, then Bishop of Hexham; and at the age of thirty he was ordained a priest by the same prelate. Shortly after his admission to the priesthood he appears to have removed to the brother monastery of Jarrow, where he continued to reside till the time of his decease, diligently employing himself in compiling glosses and expositions of the Scriptures, and in composing works for the edification both of himself and his brethren. At that time there were six hundred monks belonging to the monasteries of Wearmouth and Jarrow, and in most of the other monasteries of the kingdom their number appears to have been proportionably great. Most of those monks were not priests, but a kind of intermediate class between the clergy and laity bound by a vow to yield obedience to their abbot, and to live a chaste and holy life.

It may be here remarked that, in the time of Bede, most of the monks were accustomed to labor with their hands in the fields of the monastery, as well as to pray with their heart and voice in the church or the cell; they mowed the hay; reaped and thrashed the corn; and eke, milked the cows and fed the calves. But, in subsequent times, the number of monks belonging to each monastery became greatly diminished; for the more pious, who were also possibly the more indolent, and certainly the most powerful and knowing, having discovered that manual labor withdrew them too much from their more pleasing offices of devotion, it was thought better to employ laymen to cultivate their grounds and perform the more laborious servile offices about the monastery. The number of those admitted to profession was restricted; and as the monks belonging to a monastery became fewer and more select, so did the number of its lay laborers increase.

Under his instructors Bede acquired such a knowledge of the Latin language as to be able to write it with clearness and ease; and it has also been said that he had a knowledge of Greek: if he had, it was very small, and certainly not beyond a mere knowledge of words as synonymous with others of Latin. From the Greek he derived no knowledge of things; for of all that is most interesting and permanently valuable in Greek literature, he was wholly ignorant. We are informed that the genius of Bede embraced the whole cyclopædia of human learning; that he acquired his knowledge of natural philosophy and mathematics from the purest sources, namely, from the works of the Greek and Latin authors themselves; and that he had a competent knowledge of poetry, rhetoric, metaphysics, logic, astronomy, music, cosmography, chronology, and history. By one writer he is represented as "trimming the lamp of learning, and irradiating the Saxon realm of Northumberland with a clear and steady light;" while another, who has recently edited a translation of a portion of Bede's works, professing to amend the language of the text, and in his own slip-shod introduction supplying proof of his incompetence to perform the task, says, in his own peculiar style, that it " seems not a little surprising that one who had scarce moved further than the place of his nativity should so accurately