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 blest paths, which before I Of death and judgment, heaven and hell- But the night was now far spent, and his last sunrise was near at hand. His candle flickered in the socket-flickered even as that glorious earthly life, which was so soon to be extinguished by the headsman's axe. But even then, Raleigh could not help pointing a moral, with the trifling incident of a candle burning dimly. Thus wrote he: It was said of Raleigh by some one that he went to death "more like a bridegroom to a wedding than an attainted traitor to a scaffold." Traitor, indeed! It be of some little interest to our may fair readers if we describe how this noble cavalier, at one time "the glass of fashion and the mould of form," in the court of Queen Elizabeth, was dressed on the occasion of his execution. We can not do better than by quoting the words of the compiler of Raleigh's Remains. "Upon Thursday morning this courageous although committed knight was brought before the Parliament-house, where there was a scafdoubted over-night whether he should be fold erected, for his beheading; yet it was hanged, but it fell out otherwise. He had no sooner mounted the scaffold than, with a cheerful countenance and undaunted look, he saluted harc-colored satin doublet, with a black wrought the company. His attire was a ruff-band, a waistcoat under it, a pair of black cut taffety breeches, a pair of ash-colored silk stockings, and a wrought black velvet night-gown." He then doffed his cavalier's hat, and observing several of the courtiers and noblemen at different windows, but at too great a distance to hear well, he begged they would come nearer to the scaffold, with which request they complied. "He embraced all the members of the Court and other friends, with such them at a feast," says some writer, as courtly compliments as if he had met (if a phrase which has derived, in our quoted by D'Israeli. His "dying specch time at least, a low and debased meaning, from its being applied to the last words of rogues and murderers, can be with propriety applied to any words of such a hero as Raleigh) is too long for quotation in its enlarged state here. It opens thus: 'Cowards fear to die; but courage stout, Rather than live in snuff, will be put out." and after he had calmly Morning came, smoked a pipe of his favorite tobacco, the gallant Raleigh proceeded to the scaffold with a step as firm and an eye as bright as though he had been going to some deed of glory rather than to such an ignoble death. The anecdotes of his last moments, which his contemporaries have handed down to us, all show his contempt of death, so far as the absence of bodily fear is concerned evinces such. The day before his execution he had seen Sir Hugh Beeston, an old friend of his, who was among the crowd assembled to. see Raleigh, after condemnation, pass from Westminster Hall to the Gate-house. Calling to him, Sir Walter desired he would be present at the execution. Sir Hugh to this end wrote a letter to the sheriff, but it was not read till too late, and Sir Hugh did not thus succeed in getting a seat. On the way to the scaffold, Raleigh observed his friend, and exclaimed: "Farewell; I know not what shift will make, but I am sure to have you a place!" Just then, an old man of vencrable appearance, and with a bald head, pressed forward. Raleigh, with the courtesy which ever was his characteristic, asked whether he would have aught of him? The old man's answer was: "Nothing but to see thee, and to pray God for thee." Raleigh said: "I thank thee, good old friend, and I am sorry that I He then goes on to defend his charachave no better thanks to return thee for ter against the calumny that was heaped thy good will, but (and here a thought upon him at the time of the alleged struck him on his head was a richly-"Arabella Stuart Conspiracy "—namely, wrought night-cap) take this, for thou that he made a confederacy with the hast more need of it now than I." French Government, and that he spoke "My honorable lords, and the rest of my much rejoice that it hath pleased God to bring good friends who come to see me die, know that me from darkness to light, and in freeing me from prison, wherein I might have died in disgrace, by letting me live to come to this place, where, though I lose my life, yet shall I clear some false accusations, unjustly laid to my charge, and leave behind me a testimony of a true heart both to my king and country.' disloyal and disobedient words" of his King. He next excuses an attempted escape from Plymouth to France, when first under Stuckley's charge. He then alludes to his second attempt at escape, solemnly swearing that the attempt was made solely to save his life, and with no treasonable design. Then comes a vindication of his unworthy deceit in feigning himself sick, etc., before alluded to by us, and he quotes David as an example, who had "feigned himself foolish and mad, and yet it was not imputed to him for a sin." Whether he was instrumental in causing Essex's execution, in Elizabeth's reign, in so great a degree as has been hinted by Hume and other historians, God only knows; but if Raleigh's own declaration be worth aught, (and he did die the death of a true Christian, as far as man can judge,) we must acquit him thereof. "It is not now (said he, a few minutes before the axe of the headsman silenced him forever) a time to flatter or fear princes, for I am a subject to none but Death, therefore have a charitable conceit of me. That I know how to swear is an offense; to swear falsely at any time is a great sin; but to swear falsely before the presence of Almighty God, before whom I am forthwith to appear, were an offense unpardonable; therefore think me not now rashly or untruly to confirm or protest any thing." He finally requested Lord Arundel to entreat the King that no libelers should be allowed to defame his memory after bis death, and ended with: "Now, I have a long journey to go, and must take my leave." He then took off his gown, and prepared himself for the block, as though, indeed, "he feared the grave as little as his bed;" called to the headsman | to show him the axe, and, finding that it was not quickly brought, said smilingly: "I prithee let me see it; dost think I am afraid of it ?" Then, passing his hand over its glittering edge, he observed: "Good Master Sheriff, this is a sharp medicine, but a sure cure for all diseases." After this, he went to the three corners of the scaffold, and kneeling, begged all present to pray for him, reciting a prayer to himself the while. He then tried the block, when the executioner, as was customary, knelt down for his forgiveness, which Raleigh gently gave, entreating him not to strike till he gave the signal by lifting up his hand, and "then, fear not, but strike home!" He laid his head on the block-a head than which there was none nobler or wiser then in Europe; and, on being requested to face the east, said gently: "It is no great matter which way a man's head stands, so the heart lies right." After a few moments of fervent prayer, he gave the signal; and here a fearful scene ensued. The execution, through fear or forgetfulness, did not strike, and not till Raleigh had repeated the signal twice or thrice, with a reproachful "Why dost thou not strike?-strike, man!" did the axe fall. In two blows was Raleigh's head severed mained of one who had been "the Adfrom his body; and nothing then remirable Crichton" of England-as courtier, soldier, sailor, author, statesman, and trunk which lay before the wet eyes of philosopher-save the bleeding, headless the spectators on that Westminster scaf fold-the immortal spirit had flown thence to Heaven, unto the God who gave it. THE AUTHORSHIP OF "JUNIUS."-Our predecessors | ed above all others for his classical abilities. Mr. of fourscore years ago and upwards had a droll way of communicating important literary intelligence. We are reminded of this by the interest which still attaches itself to the authorship of "Junius." One of the many discoveries, not of the but of another, real author is thus pleasantly announced by the editor of the Gazetteer, of January 24, 1774: "The celebrated Juuius is at last discovered to be the Rev. Phil. R-gen. He was originally a great acquaintance of Mr. Horne's, and a contemporary of his at Cambridge. Mr. R-gen was there celebrat R-gen was in London during the whole time of Junius's publication; for a considerable time before and ever since he has been abroad. He is now resident at Orleans, in France, where he cuts a very conspicuous appearance, having married a very beautiful and accomplished young lady, sister of the celebrated Mrs. Grosvenor; nor does he make it any secret where he resides that he is the author of Junius." The circumstantiality, the logic, and clearness of identity are exquisite.--Athenæum. Ir is very usual with us, who have advanced to the time of "the sere and yellow leaf," who are burdened with the increasing weight of years and responsibilities, and who realize to the full the poet's assertion, that this is a "Changeful life; So manifold in cares that every day your HAPPY. him gently for what can hardly be called a punishable act, or to take advantage of the same opportunity to give him a simple lesson in natural philosophy, which would never be forgotten. Or again, we have known severe correction to have followed the spontaneous confession of a fault, when the little culprit, at the expense of a vast amount of sensibility and timidity, has stammered forth the burden that has been lying on his mind for hours, I say, it is a very common thing for us to that has been lying say to our children: "Ah! now is only to be met by harsh and injudicious happy time, now is your season of enjoy-severity. What can such a parent expect ment, now you have nothing to trouble as the result of his discipline, but future and nothing to annoy you, only to sing, falsehoods, or sly attempts at concealdance, and play; oh! if I could but be ment? This reminds us of an incident young again!" etc., etc. To a great ex- While walking in the street, we passed that happened to us the other day. tent this is true. God, in his infinite mercy, has constituted childhood with capacity for receiving pleasure from every trifle; and who can doubt this as he watches its free, dancing, joyous movements, hears its melodious laughter, or gazes on its sunny face? The cunning little rogues seemed to have found out the long-desired secret of "setting a trap to catch sunbeams." a Still, it has often struck us that the daily life of a child is not so happy as it might be. It stabs us to the very heart to see a little heedless offender roughly chidden, or even personally chastised, for an accident caused it may be by the superabundance of its joyous activity. Perhaps a curly-pated urchin, goaded on by the excess of his infantile curiosity, makes a tiny stab in his drum, to find out where the "music comes from," or sur. reptitiously gives a prick to his elastic ball, "to see what makes it jump." The toys are spoiled, it is true, which is a great pity, but still worse is it to hear the upbraidings which are showered upon his defenseless head by mother or How much better would it be to reprove nurse. two or three children in earnest conversation: their looks and tones attracted our attention, more especially the sentence uttered by one as we passed, "My mother involuntarily turned and looked at the never spoke a rough word to me." We boy. There he stood, a sturdy-looking little fellow, in fustian jacket and corduroy trowsers, but with such a beaming, happy face as is not often to be seen in a poor man's child. And who can wonder at the look of care and depression that is and twitted, and snapped at from Monday often visible in children who are snubbed, morning till Saturday night, and from Of course we do not wish to imply that Saturday night till Monday morning? children are frequently placed in such unhappy circumstances; yet, how few parents can claim the compliment that Cowper pays to his mother, when he speaks of her "Constant flow of love that knew no fall, That humor interposed too often makes." nothings, that will make a child happy for days and weeks, it makes one sigh to think how seldom they are bestowed on them. "Little things please little minds," we sometimes hear uttered with a halfcontemptuous smile. Fathers and mothers, be thankful that it is so! Be thank ful that a bandful of wild flowers, a ripe and ruddy apple, a few blocks of wood, or a peacock's feather, will make your child shout for joy, and cause his dancing limbs to bear witness to the lightness of his heart. We have known a child amused for a long winter's day, when cold and sleet have confined him to the fireside, by half an hour's patient instruction, some paper, and a pair of scissors; while his bright, intelligent eyes have borne testimony to his triumph over the miniature boats and ships that he has constructed. An addition of one or two colors and a paint-brush have made him as happy as a king, and sent him to bed with his head crowded with visions of Lilliputian fleets and naval engagements. We repeat, that no work is easier or so well paid as the amusement of children. "Theirs is the sunshine of the breast;" and many a gentle word, or encouraging caress, is treasured in their hearts, to be repaid at some future time by simple attentions in illness. Never allow your children to be idle. Idleness is the root of all evil, and a child who is allowed to hang listlessly over the fire, and lounge about on easy-chair or sofa, will assuredly be a burden in time to come. If he appears wearied of his toys, draw him kindly to you, and tell or read some simple story; if possible, get him to copy some animal or bird mentioned in it; show him how to fabricate a walnutshell boat, or a fly-catcher, or an ornament for the bed-room candlestick, or some coarse netting for cabbage-nets, or some spills for lighting candles. And let him see that you value his work, by using it. Nothing damps a child's pleasure more, after he has completed some wonderful fabrication, which is to accomplish marvels in the domestic department, than to see it laid aside as useless, or smiled at superciliously. Use it, if it be possible; or, still better, assist him in making a more perfect one. It always seems more difficult to amuse boys than girls, because it is thought effeminate to instruct them in many things with which girls are ac quainted. This we believe to be a grand mistake. We knew a family where all the children, both boys and girls, were taught knitting and netting. No one was allowed to make their marble-bags for them, and certainly marvelous and gorgeous in the extreme were the colors they selected; still, they were more prized by them than any fabrications that could be purchased, besides encouraging a taste for industry and a love for domestic life. Our readers may smile, but this is a fact. The boys hailed the winter evenings with pleasure, when they kept time with their busy fingers to the narration of some startling adventure, or school exploit, and far from becoming "feminized," grew up domesticated in their tastes, and unlike the shiftless creatures men usually are in the items of buttons and strings. Always accept the home-manufactures of your boys, if urged upon you. There is inherent in all boy-nature a certain chivalrous and knightly feeling, which they love to gratify, and by all means encourage this when possible. Many a happy hour will be passed by your little son, if he knows that the rough piece of wood which he is so elaborately carving into some mythical and extinct animal will be accepted with a smile and treasured with love. Give your children a love for nature. It was our favored lot to be brought up by a loving, intelligent Christian mother, and never shall we cease to feel gratitude to her memory for the many pleasant hours her early lessons have insured us. From childhood we were trained to admire and love natural objects. What an ovation was performed in honor of the first violet, and what a joyous discovery it was to espy the first pale primrose of the season! Even after long years of sorrow and trial, a thrill of happiness returns at the recollection of these innocent pleasures; of the approval she never omitted to manifest at indications of a desire to solve any of the many wonders of leaf, and bud, and flower; of the pleasure with which she would survey our collections of variegated snail-shells, or the arrangement of all the varieties of grasses we could collect. She also allowed us to feed caterpillars, (always, however, being most scupulous as to the kindness with which they were treated,) and no words could describe our delight as we watched the wondrous change into chrysalis and butterfly, while she would take advantage of it to lead our thoughts to the | me when you see I'm busy!" This is still more wondrous transformation of the human body. The evening hours of an intelligent child might be profitably employed in arranging the shells, grasses, flowers, etc., collected during the summer, placing them carefully on paper or card, and writing the description of their classes, orders, or parts beneath. Live pets, also, deserve notice here, since tending, feeding, and nursing them affords great delight to children, and fosters their kindly feelings. By all means encourage brothers and sisters to love the same amusements. Of course those of an intellectual kind are meant, since we have no desire to transform our boys into women, or to make our girls romps. But, in the study of botany, or natural history, one may materially aid the other. The boy will exhibit more courage and dexterity in securing the prizes, which the "neat-handed Phillis" can more delicately manipulate and examine; or the girl may make a very pretty drawing of the various butterflies, beetles, etc., which the boy may color; while the neatest writer may add the description. A charming little volume might thus be commenced at a comparatively early age, which both would enjoy to review as they progress, and mark the improvement they have made. Or, again, a boy who was clever as a carpenter might be directed how to form very pretty baskets and vases for holding the flower-pots in the drawing-room or garden, while the girl could cleverly decorate them with pine cones, (split down the center in order to be more easily glued,) which, if wished, could afterwards be varnished; or bouquets of flowers might be skeletonized and bleached at the sole expense of time and trouble, and thus a charming ornament for the parlor would be produced. Hundreds of these little trifling employments will suggest themselves to the mind of any intelligent mother, and she will then be spared the annoyance of a listless, "What shall I do? I have nothing to do!" that too often degenerates into ill-humor and peevishness. Never mind how trivial the occupation, so that it be but useful and trains your child to an abhorrence of idleness. Never think it too much trouble to answer your children's questions. How often do we hear the tart reply: "I'm sure I don't know, child; pray don't tease VOL. XLV.-NO. III. the surest way to stunt the growth of your child's mind. It is the most cruel and ruthless conduct possible, thus to deny a child the information for which he craves, and to allow him to feel all the awkwardness and pain to which ignorance exposes him. Rather hail with joy these indications of a growing mind, and make the little inquirer happy by drawing him to you with a kiss, and as full and patient an elucidation as he may require. And if you wish his little cup of happiness to overflow for one day at least, when the inquiring fit is over, give yourself up to a game of romps with him; or let him bring his stool to that snug corner where you sit, and get his tea quite under your wing; or give him a baked apple for his supper; or, best of all, in his eyes, let him sit up half an hour over his usual bed-time, with a book of colored pictures in his hand, and his little rosy face in your bosom. If you give your child a present, make it doubly precious by the way in which you do it. Hide it in some snug corner, where he will be sure to find it out; in his little shoe or in the pocket of his frock; or let it come by post, directed to him; or let it be that same wonderful secret by which you have been mystifying him for a day or two past, till he is in a perfect agony of curiosity; or let the servant bring it to the door with a flourishing ring, and send him to open it; any of these plans will send him to bed as happy as a prince, and fill his heart with fresh joy each time he thinks of it. Make your children happy in each other, encouraging them to feel that a pleasure enjoyed alone is only half enjoyed. If one of them buy only a farthing sugar-stick, teach him to feel a delight in offering a taste to all the rest. As far as possible, let their presents to each other be of their own manufacture-not purchases. Let the boys carve silk-winders, or make bone-crochet hooks, or copy in their best style some favorite poem, (such as Johnny Gilpin or the Babes in the Woods,) transcribing it into a neat manuscript volume, perhaps adorned with original illustrations. Let the girls make book-marks, satchels for school-books, or a leathern cover for some favorite volume. Cherish the little outbursts of affection natural to them. Do not chide your boys for a few irrepressible tears at leaving 27 |