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QUEEN ELIZABETH AND SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

Among the objects of interest exhibited at the Museum of the Wilts Archæological Society, at Salisbury, was a lock of hair of Queen Elizabeth's, which was found some time since at Wilton House, between the leaves of a copy of The Arcadia.

The hair is light brown, approaching to auburn, certainly not red, although with a reddish tinge. Its authenticity is set. forth in a paper in an early hand, which states:

This Lock of Queen Elizabeth's own Hair was presented to Sir Philip Sidney by Her Majesty's owne faire hands, on which He made these verses, and gave them to the Queen, on his bended knee. Anno Domini 1573.

And pinned to this is another paper, on which, written in a different hand, said to be Sidney's own, we have the verses,—

Her inward worth all outward show transcends,

Envy her merits with Regret commends;

Like sparkling Gems her Virtues draw the Sight,

And in her Conduct she is alwaies Bright.

When She imparts her thoughts her words have force,

And Sense and Wisdom flow in sweet discourse.

PUNCH.

The following extract has been taken from Fryer's Travels to the East Indies, 1672:—

At Nerule (near Goa) is made the best arach, or nepa die Goa, with which the English on this coast make that enervating liquor called paunch (which is Indostan for five), from five ingredients, as the physicians name this composition diapente; or from four things, diatesseron.

OLDEST CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES.

The oldest Church in America is one in the State of Vir ginia, and built of timber imported from England during the reign of Charles I.

HOPE.

The Rev. R. A Willmott, in his agreeable and tasteful little volume, A Journal of Summer Time in the Country, speaking of Prior, says:—

His Solomon, though rough and deficient in variety of interest, is sown with thoughts and images of pensive grace that dwell in the memory:

Vex'd with the present moment's heavy gloom,

Why seek we brightness from the years to come?
Disturb'd and broken, like a sick man's sleep,
Our troubled thoughts to distant prospects leap,
Desirous still what flies us to o'ertake;

For hope is but the dream of those that wake.

"The last line," adds Mr. Willmott, "is scarcely excelled by Pope's description of Faith, our early immortality.""

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Dr. Johnson observed of Prior that "his stories, and even his points, may be traced," and the line here quoted with just admiration of its beauty by Mr. Willmott, furnishes a remarkable instance in point.

The sentiment occurs in that very beautiful letter of Basil (Bishop of Cæsarea about 370 A.D.) to his friend Gregory of Nazianzum, which is quoted and accompanied with some judicious and admirable observations, in the Cosmos of A. Von Humboldt (Sabine's Translation, vol. ii. p. 26):

For the hopes of men have been justly called waking dreams.

The simile appears here not to have been original with Basil, but its beauty did not escape his poetical tone of mind. Now Basil was one of the Greek Fathers, and we may expect to find it, if

anywhere, in a Greek classic. Accordingly we do find it as one of the profound and admirable sayings attributed to Aristotle, in the Life of Aristotle, by Diogenes Laertius. On one occasion the question was put to him, what hope is? and his answer was, “The dream of a waking man.” An English translation of this work was published in 1696, and whence Prior probably took it, for he is said to have been a reader of various literature, and not particular in acknowledging his sources.

PENNY SIGHTS IN THE REIGN OF JAMES I.

The following curious list is to be found among the host of panegyrical verses prefixed to Master Tom Coryate's Crudities, published in 1611. Even in those days it will be admitted that the English were rather fond of such things, and glorious Will himself bears testimony to the fact (See Tempest, Act II. Sc. 2). The hexameter verses are anonymous. Drake's ship was broken up, and a chair made from the wood, which is now to be seen at the Bodleian Library, Oxford.

Why doe the rude vulgar so hastily post in a madnesse

To gaze at trifles, and toyes not worthy the viewing?

And thinke them happy, when may be shew'd for a penny
The Fleet-streete Mandrakes, that heavenly motion of Eltham,
Westminster Monuments, and Guildhall huge Corinæus,

That horne of Windsor (of an Unicorne very likely),

The cave of Merlin, the skirts of Old Tom a Lincolne,

King John's sword at Linne, with the cup the Fraternity drinke in,

The tombe of Beauchampe, and sword of Sir Guy a Warwicke,
The great long Dutchman, and roaring Marget a Barwicke,
The mummied Princes, and Cæsar's wine yet i' Dover,
Saint James his ginney-hens, the Cassawarway* moreover,

* An East Indian bird at Saint James, in the keeping of Mr. Walker, that will carry no coales, but eate them as whot as you will.

The Beaver i' the Parke (strange Beast as e'er any man saw),
Downe-shearing Willowes with teeth as sharp as a hand-saw,
The lance of John a Gaunt, and Brandon's still i' the Tower,
The fall of Ninive, with Norwich built in an hower.
King Henries slip-shoes, the sword of valiant Edward,
The Coventry Boares-shield, and fire-workes seen but to bedward,
Drake's ship at Detford, King Richard's bed-sted i' Leyster,
The White Hall Whale-bones, the silver Bason i' Chester;
The live-caught Dog-fish, the Wolfe, and Harry the Lyon,
Hunks of the Beare Garden to be feared, if he be nigh on.
All these are nothing, were a thousand more to be scanned,
(Coryate) unto thy shoes so artificially tanned.

In explanation of the last line, Tom went no less than nine hundred miles on one pair of soles, and on his return he hung up these remarkable shoes for a memorial in Odcombe Church, Somersetshire, where they remained till 1702.

Another "penny" sight was a trip to the top of St. Paul's. (See Dekker's Gul's Horne Book, 1609.)

SIGNS.

The Romans had signs; and at Pompeii a pig over the door represents a wine-shop within. The Middle Ages adopted a bush. "Good wine needs no bush," &c., answering to the gilded grapes at a modern vintner's. The bush is still a common sign. At Charles I.'s death, a cavalier landlord painted his bush black. Then came the modern square sign, formerly common to all trades. Old signs are generally heraldric, and represent royal bearings, or the blazonings of great families. The White Hart was peculiar to Richard II.; the White Swan of Henry IV. and Edward III.; the Blue Boar of Richard III.; the Red Dragon came in with the Tudors, and also the Rose and Fleur de Lys; the Bull, the Falcon, and Plume of Feathers commemorated Edward IV.; the Swan and Antelope were the Arms of Henry V.; the Greyhound and Green Dragon, of Henry VII.; the Castle,

the Spread Eagle, and the Globe (Alphonso's), were probably adopted from the arms of Spain, Germany, and Portugal, by inns which were the resort of merchants from those countries. Then we have the Bear and Ragged Staff of Leicester, &c. Monograms are common; as Bolt and Tun for Bolton; Hare and Tun for Harrington. The Three Suns is the favorite bearing of Edward IV.; and all Roses, white or red (as at Tewkesbury), are indications of political predilection. Other signs commemorate historical events; as the Bull and Mouth, Bull and Gate (the Boulogne engagement in Henry VIII.'s time, and alluded to by Shakspeare). The Pilgrim, Cross Keys, Salutation, Catharine Wheel, Angel, Three Kings, Seven Stars, St. Francis, &c., are mediæval signs. Many are curiously corrupted; as the Cour Doré (Golden Heart) to the Queer Door; Bacchanals (the Bag of Nails); Pig and Whistle (Peg and Wassail Bowl); the Swan and Two Necks (literally Two Nicks); Goat and Compasses (God encompasseth us); the Bell Savage (La Belle Sauvage, or Isabel Savage); the Goat in the Golden Boots (from the Dutch, Goed in der Gooden Boote), Mercury, or the God in the Golden Boots; the Cat and Fiddle (the Caton Fidele). The Swan with Two Nicks represented the Thames Swans, so marked on their bills under the "Conservatory" of the Goldsmiths' Company. The Coach and Horses remind us of the times when the Superior Inns were the only posting-houses, in distinction to such as bore. the sign of the Pack-horse. The Fox and Goose denoted the games played within; the Country Inn, the Hare and Hounds, the vicinity of a sporting Squire. The Puritans altered many of the monastic signs; as the Angel and Lady, to the Soldier and Citizen. In signs we may read every phase of ministerial popularity, and all the ebbs and flows of war in the Sir Home Popham, Rodney, Shovel, Duke of York, Wellington's Head, &c. At Chelsea, a sign called the "Snow Shoes," still indicates the excitement of the American war.

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