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whom he does not see at church; which is understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent.

The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechising day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be given him next day for his encouragement, and sometimes accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has likewise added five pounds a-year to the clerk's place; and that he may encourage the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the church service, has promised, upon the death of the present incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it according to merit.

The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his chaplain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, is the more remarkable, because the very next village is famous for the differences and contentions that rise between the parson and the squire, who live in a perpetual state of war. The parson is always preaching at the squire; and the squire, to be revenged on the parson, never comes to church. The squire has made all his tenants atheists and tithe-stealers; while the parson instructs them every Sunday in the dignity of his order, and insinuates to them in almost every sermon, that he is a better man than his patron. In short, matters are come to such an extremity, that the squire has not said his prayers either in public or private this half-year; and that the parson threatens him, if he does not mend his manners, to pray for him in the face of the whole congregation.

Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the country, are very fatal to the ordinary people; who are so used to be dazzled with riches, that they pay as much deference to the understanding of a man of an estate, as of a man of learning; and are very hardly brought to regard any truth, how important soever it may be, that is preached to them, when they know there are several men of five hundred a year who do not believe it.

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THE FRIAR OF ORDERS GREY.

BISHOP PERCY.

T was a friar of orders grey,

IT

Walk'd forth to tell his beads,

And he met with a lady fair,

Clad in a pilgrim's weeds.

"Now Christ thee save, thou reverend friar!

I pray thee tell to me,

If ever at yon holy shrine

My true-love thou didst see."

"And how should I know your true love

From many another one?

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"O by his cockle hat and staff,
And by his sandal shoon :

"But chiefly by his face and mien,
That were so fair to view;
His flaxen locks, that sweetly curl'd,
And eyne of lovely blue."

"O lady, he is dead and gone!
Lady, he's dead and gone!
And at his head a green-grass turf,
And at his heels a stone.

"Within these holy cloisters long

He languish'd, and he died,

Lamenting of a lady's love,

And 'plaining of her pride.

"Here bore him, bare-faced on his bier,
Six proper youths and tall;

And many a tear bedew'd his
Within yon kirk-yard wall."

grave

"And art thou dead, thou gentle youth?
And art thou dead and gone?
And didst thou die for love of me?
Break, cruel heart of stone!"

"O weep not, lady, weep not so!
Some ghostly comfort seek;
Let not vain sorrow rive thy heart,
Nor tears bedew thy cheek."

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"Weep no more, lady, weep no more, Thy sorrow is in vain :

For violets pluck'd, the sweetest show'rs
Will ne'er make grow again.

"Our joys as wingèd dreams do fly,
Why then should sorrow last?
Since grief but aggravates thy loss,
Grieve not for what is past."

"O say not so, thou holy friar!
I pray thee, say not so!
For since my true-love died for me,
'Tis meet my tears should flow.

"And will he never come again?

Will he ne'er come again?

Ah, no! he is dead, and laid in his
For ever to remain.

grave,

"His cheek was redder than the rose,
The comeliest youth was he:
But he is dead, and laid in his grave,
Alas! and woe is me!"

"Sigh no more, lady, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot on sea, and one on land,
To one thing constant never.

"Hadst thou been fond, he had been false,
And left thee sad and heavy ;
For young men ever were fickle found,
Since summer-trees were leafy."

"Now say not so, thou holy friar, I pray thee, say not so!

My love he had the truest heart;

O he was ever true!

"And art thou dead, thou much-loved youth? And didst thou die for me?

Then farewell, home! for evermore

A pilgrim I will be.

"But first upon my true-love's grave

My weary limbs I'll lay ;

And thrice I'll kiss the green-grass turf
That wraps his breathless clay."

"Yet stay, fair lady, stay awhile
Beneath this cloister wall:

See, through the hawthorn blows the wind, And drizzly rain doth fall."

"O stay me not, thou holy friar,
O stay me not, I pray !
No drizzly rain that falls on me
Can wash my fault away."

"Yet stay, fair lady, turn again,
And dry those pearly tears;
For see, beneath this gown of

Thy own true-love appears.

grey,

"Here, forced by grief and hopeless love,
These holy weeds I sought :
And here, amidst these lonely walls,
To end my days I thought.

"But haply, for my year of grace
Is not yet pass'd away,
Might I still hope to win thy love,
No longer would I stay."

"Now farewell grief, and welcome joy
Once more unto my heart;

For since I've found thee, lovely youth,

We never more will part.'

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THE

HE elegant Greek slave imposed his language and his modes of thought upon his barbarous Roman master; our civilized Chinese attendants have communicated to us outer barbarians the syntax of the Chinese tongue. They have made for us a new English language, wherein sounds once familiar to us as English words startle us by new significations.

My friend introduced me to his comprador thus :"You see gentleman, you tawkee one piecey coolie one piecey boy-larnt pigeon, you savey, no number one foolo-you make see this gentleman-you make him house pigeon."

This was said with great rapidity, and in my inno

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