:

In passing through Gracechurchstreet the queen was entertained with a representation of mount Parnassus. The fountain of Helicon, by a bold fiction unknown to the bards of antiquity, ran in four streams of Rhenish wine from a basin of white marble. On the summit of the mountain sat Apollo, and at his feet Calliope. On either side of the declivity were arranged four of the muses, playing on their respective musical instruments. Under them were written epigrams and poesies in golden letters, in which every muse praised the queen, according to her character and office. At Leadenhall sat Saint Anne, with her numerous progeny, and Mary Cleophas with her four children. One of the children made "a goodlie oration to the queene, of the fruitfulness of St. Anne, and of her generation; trusting the like fruit should come of her." At the conduit in Cornhill appeared the three graces; before whom, with no great propriety, was the spring of grace perpetually running wine. Before the spring, however, sat a poet, describing, in metre, the properties or functions of every grace and then each of these graces allotted, in a short speech to the queen, the virtue or accomplishment over which she severally presided. At the conduit in Cheapside she was saluted, saith the chronicler, "with a rich pageaunt full of melodie and song." In this pageant were Pallas, Juno, and Venus; and before them stood Mercury, who presented to her majesty, in the name of the three goddesses, a golden ball or globe, divided into three parts, signifying wisdom, riches, and felicity. At the upper end of Cheapside was the aldermen's station, where the recorder, having addressed the queen in a very elegant oration, presented her with a purse of gold tissue, containing a thousand marks. At entering St. Paul's gate, (an ancient portal leading into the churchyard on the east, and long since destroyed,) three ladies richly attired, showered on her head wafers, in which were contained Latin distiches. At the eastern side of St. Paul's churchyard, two hundred scholars of St. Paul's school addressed her in chosen and apposite passages from the Roman poets, translated into English rhymes. On the leads of St. Martin's church stood a choir of boys and men, who sang, not spiritual hymns, but new ballads, in praise of her majesty. On the conduit without Ludgate, where the arms and angels had been refreshed, was erected a tower with four turrets, within each of which was placed a cardinal virtue,

symbolically habited. Each of these personages, in turn, uttered an oration, promising to protect and accompany the queen on all occasions. Within the tower was a concert of music, and the conduit all the while ran with various sorts of wine. Here we see the Pagan history and mythology predominating in those spectacles, which were once furnished from the golden legend. Instead of saints, prophets, apostles, and confessors, we have Apollo, Mercury, and the muses. Instead of religious canticles and texts of scripture, which were usually introduced in the course of these ceremonies, we are entertained with profane poetry, translations from the classics, and occasional verses; with exhortations, not delivered by personified doctors of the church, but by heathen divinities. At Temple-bar the queen was again entertained with songs, sung in concert by a choir of men and boys; and having from thence proceeded to Westminster, she returned the lord mayor thanks for his good offices, and those of the citizens that day.

On the day following the mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs, performed their several offices at the coronation; and, in return for the great expense the city had been at upon the above occasion, the lord mayor, aldermen, and about forty of the principal citizens, had the honour of being afterward invited to the christening of the princess Elizabeth.

Then and there, without failure or fee, should be bound

To enlighten the streets and the avenues round. Thus the care of the town was alternately left To the gas and the moon, to preserve it from theft,

And to guard the unwary from losing their way,

"I'm afraid," cried the clerk, "here's a villanous flaw,

Which will render the deed quite invalid in law. Here's a case, please your Worship, the nineteenth report,'

It puts the complaint quite and clean out of court;

Now, one night it fell out, when the gas was at rest,

And babes, young and old, in their slumbers

were blest,

Dame Luna, of lovers the pride and the boast, Proved false to her charge, and deserted her post:

Some say to her pillow she privately stole,

Or was gone to the north, to enliven the Pole; Be that as it may, of the fact there's no doubt She was absent from home, and her lamp was gone out.

That night, of all nights in the year the most dark,

Neither gas-light nor moon-light-of no light a spark,

Foor Pat, from the land of potatoes and jigs, Had through the black purlieus been driving his

pigs ;

When mistaking his way, by the darkness misled, His pigs, one and all, tumbled heels over head, Souse into the faithless canal-near a lock, Where no pig of them all e'er recovered the shock:

Though 'twas whispered about there were those who could tell,

Long after that night, where the fattest pig feil.

At this woful disaster Pat made a dead halt, And protested the gas-not the moon-was in fault.

Then away the next day to the justice be hied, To prefer bis complaint, and his sentence abide. "Plase your Honour, I'm wanting a bit of

advice,

I lost, the last night, all my pigs in a trice;'Twas so dark that you couldn't see left hand or right,

So the pigs for that reason went clane out of sight.

It's myself that was bringing them all safe and sound,

But the gas being out, they were all of them drowned.

As the gas was to blame, I'll be paid for each pig"

"Not so fast!" cried his worship, adjusting

his wig,

"Pay respect to the Bench, man, and you may depend on't

You shall have justice done you-What says the

defendaut"

"Please your Worship," said Gas, "we are clear of the booty,

The gas can't be blamed-it's the moon was on duty."

"Oh, the moon!-say you so? Then produce me the bond

Let the moon-binding clauses be carefully

conned:

'Tis fit that the law be put quickly in force, And the culprit be made an example, of course."

signed,

And the deed, as your Worship well knows, cannot bind."

"Oh! that alters the case," quoth bis Worship

with glee,

So you cannot expect any justice from me;You must see, my good fellow, though proved be the fact,

I've no power 'gainst the moon as defendant to act.

In the Chancellor's court you may try for relief-
In all lunatic cases his lordship is chief."
Pat heard the decision with sorrowful brow,
And with calm resignation thus proffered his
bow-

"Since no justice I'll get from your worshipful self,

I'll go back to my country, a penniless elf;
And long in ould Ireland the tale shall be told
How in England, long since, all his pigs and his

gold

Were lost by a poor simple Irish gorsoon, Thro' a flaw in the bond 'twixt the gas and the moon."

THE CORNISH PIE.
(See pages 355 and 435 of our last Volume.)
In turning o'er your welcome pages,
Where many a tale the mind engages,
A curious subject at the most,

I found more curiously discussed.
Two gents each other here outvie,
The subject-a nice "Cornish Pie !"
One strives in verse, and passing well,
Every ingredient to tell

Of all the numbers that abound;
Nor should I e'en a want have found,
But that your correspondent "Oke,"
Has found one is beyond a joke.
And what he says is strictly true.
When both sides of the case we view:
For most disastrous is the fate
Which must a "dishless pie" await.
But yet a case more hard I find,
And MORE unsuited to my mind.

If both these gents, when forced to roam,
By hunger are impelled t'wards home,
For them most heartily I wish

They may not greet a "pieless dish!"

Fine Arts.

BUCKINGHAM PALACE.

SEVERAL descriptions of this elegant structure have already appeared in print, and we have, from time to time, noted the alterations in connexion with the progress of the building. The following is however, more in detail than any description hitherto published and ac

cordingly merits transference to our pages. It forms part of a paper in the May No. of Fraser's Magazine, and we suspect, is from the pen of Allan Cunningham. We do not quote the writer's introductory opinions, but the descriptive details, which are conveniently arranged under heads: thus

Situation. More objection has been made to the situation of Buckingham Palace than can be excused, far less justified. In passing along Piccadilly, it no doubt appears very low; and, in consequence, it is supposed to be smothered in the prospects from the windows. We acknowledge that this was our own opinion until we visited the Palace; but we now retract that opinion. At one time it was thought that the Green Park afforded a preferable site, especially as the same advantage which is at present obtained by Buckingham Gardens could have been possessed by attaching them to the one side of the building proposed for the Green Park. But cause for public discontent would have been given by the invasion of the public right to the use of the Green Park, and the ride on Constitution Hill. Indeed, there was no other spot on which a palace could have been erected without some infringement of public privilege; and, therefore, some feeling of acknowledgment is due to the King on this account.

But, strange as it may seem, there is no situation, either in Hyde Park or the Green Park, which can compare with that of Buckingham Palace. From Hyde Park, the view of the Surrey hills and the surrounding country is, no doubt, a spacious expanse of English landscape; but it comprehends no great feature of the vast metropolis. The view from the Green Park, with the exception of Westminster Abbey, is inferior to that from Hyde Park. But in all directions from Buckingham Palace, except on the Pimlico side, the views are not only extensive, but the finest in all the metropolis.

From the front, there is no other, in any part of the metropolis, so magnificent. In the foreground lies St. James's Park, with the lake and islands;—on the left is the superb classic mansion of Lord Stafford, and that of Lord Spencer, one of the best designs of Inigo Jones, with the other fine buildings which face the Green Park; on the right is Westminster Abbey; and, in perspective, the Horse Guards, the Treasury, and the Admiralty; and, beyond them, the dome of St. Paul's, and the spires of the city. This is the prospect from the front of the Palace, as it stands at present. It

will, however, be much increased in grandeur, when the lofty piles and colonnades now erecting in Carlton Gardens, and the corresponding terraces to them, are raised on the Bird-cage Walk side of the park. For a town situation, we cannot conceive where a nobler could have been found; and we are inclined to think that it was a knowledge of this fact, possessed only by the inhabitants of Buckingham House, which, with the influence of personal reminiscences, induced his Majesty to prefer it. Situation, indeed, cannot be duly appreciated by looking at it;-by looking from it the extent of the prospects can only be rightly estimated."

The view from the north side comprehends the Green Park, with the magnificent terrace of Piccadilly, from the residence of the Duke of Devonshire to the new princely mansion of the Duke of Wellington, with the triumphal arches at Hyde Park corner. The garden front overlooks, of course, only the garden, an extent of sixty-three acres, laid out in the very best style of landscape gardening, adorned to the utmost limit that an English garden admits of. We have said that the south side looks towards Pimlico.

Approach. The approach to the Palace is by the main mall of St. James's Park. This mall is three furlongs in length, and it is contemplated to open a direct communication to it from Charing Cross. When this shall have been completed, the approach will be by a noble straight avenue, already in maturity, to the marble triumphal arch. Behind the arch, the Palace comprehends a quadrangle or open square of two hundred and forty feet in extent on each side, being about the same size as that of Somerset House.

Appearance. The principal and governing order of the Palace is the Roman Corinthian, raised on a Doric basement. The central mass of the design, which directly faces the spectator from the entrance underneath the triumphal arch, is composed of a bold porte cochère, superior portico of eight coupled columns, and corresponding towers with four columns each at either extremity. The deep shadows of these three prominent parts being relieved by the repose of the intermediate spaces, gives to the whole a commanding appearance, and indicates that here is the principal entrance to the Palace. The tympanum of the centre portico is filled with sculpture, and the pediment crowned with statues. The projecting wings or sides of the quadrangle are of a subdued character, thereby

denoting their more subordinate appropriation, and giving importance to the main building. The centre part only of them, which serves as the entrance on either side to the lord steward's and the lord chamberlain's houses, is to be decorated with pilasters, and to be surmounted, the one by a clock tower, and the other by a corresponding wind tower, both enriched by beautiful and appropriate groups of sculpture, designed by Mr. Westmacott. The ends of the wings towards the park present Corinthian porticoes, surmounted with statues and adorned with sculptures, which we shall hereinafter describe. In one sentence, the exterior towards the park bears an impress of great elegance; but some parts of it may still be objected to as presenting an appearance of mancanza or baldness, which the application of the sculpture will correct. The dome has hitherto been more justly subject to this criticism than any other part; but when it shall be ribbed as a cupola, and crowned with appropriate ornaments, which we believe to be the intention, so as to make it accord with the general character of the edifice, it will no longer be a defect, but a beauty.

At the same time, we regret that the original plan of Mr. Nash, by which the dome would have been concealed from the spectators in the Park, has not been executed. It had in it, we think, the principles of a desirable picturesque effect. It was to have raised the interior walls of the Palace above the present roof, in the form of an attic, to the extent of the whole body of the central building: this, ornamented with statues, would have been incomparably finer than all that is now practicable to be done to the dome.

It has been objected to the porticoes of the wings towards the Park, that they give an idea of too slender a building; but the plan of the Palace comprehends two additional courts, to which these porticoes are only wings; others, corresponding to them, will be necessary to complete the unity of the building. There is but little chance, however, of this part of the design being at present carried into effect.

Triumphal Arch.-The first object of detail which attracts particular attention is the triumphal arch, the greatest work of mere ornament which has yet been attempted by the moderns. In general effect it resembles the Arch of Constantine at Rome, to which it is equal in dimensions; and that of Napoleon, in front of the Tuilleries at Paris,

which is on a smaller scale. The arch at Milan, founded by Napoleon, and now completing by the Austrians, can alone vie with it in dimensions. The Buckingham arch contains three gateways-the centre one rises to the architrave. Over the two side gates are tablets, containing on the one side female representatives of England, Scotland, and Ireland: and on the other, the Genius of England inciting youth. Between each arch or gateway is a column, twenty feet high, of one block: these columns will support groups of trophies and figures. Behind these groups is a representation in bold relief of the battle of Waterloo.

THE following extract from the Laws of Alfred, is prefixed as a motto, and may form a useful lesson for the legislators even of this enlightened age:

"Hence I, King Alfred, gathered these together, and commanded many of those to be written down which our forefathers observed-those which I likedand those which I did not like by the advice of my Witan I threw aside. For I durst not venture to set down in writing over many of my own, since I knew not what among them would please those who should come after us. those which I met with either of the days of me, my kinsman, or of Offa, King of Mercia, or of Aethelberht, who was the first of the English who received baptism-those which appeared to me the

But

justest-I have here collected, and abandoned the others. Then I, Alfred, King of the West Saxons, showed these to all my Witan, and they then said that they were all willing to observe them." Laws of Alfred, translated by R. Price, Esq.-(Not yet published.)

GROWTH OF GOVERNMENTS.

No one (in early times) was taught, by a wide survey of society, that governments are not framed after a model, but that all their parts and powers grow out of occasional acts, prompted by some urgent expediency, or some private interest, which in the course of time coalesce and harden into usage; and that this bundle of usages is the object of respect and the guide of conduct, long before it is embodied, defined, and enforced in written laws. Government may be, in some degree, reduced to system, but it cannot flow from it. It is not like a machine, or a building, which may be constructed entirely, and according to a previous plan, by the art and labour of man. It is better illustrated by comparison with vegetables, or even animals, which may be, in a very high degree, improved by skill and care, which may be grievously injured by neglect or destroyed by violence, but which cannot be produced by human contrivance. A government can, indeed, be no more than a mere draught or scheme of rule, when it is not composed of habits of obedience on the part of the people, and of an habitual exercise of certain portions of authority by the individuals or bodies who constitute the sovereign power. These habits, like all others, can only be formed by repeated acts; they cannot be suddenly infused by the law-giver, nor can they immediately follow the most perfect conviction of their propriety. Many causes having more power over the human mind than written law, it is extremely difficult, from the mere perusal of a written scheme of government, to foretell what it will prove in action. There may be governments so bad that it is justifiable to destroy them, and to trust to the probability that a better government will grow in their stead. But as the rise of a worse is also possible, so terrible a peril is never to be incurred except in the case of a tyranny which it is impossible to reform. It may be necessary to burn a forest containing much useful timber, but giving shelter to beasts of prey, who are formidable to an infant colony in its neighbourhood, and of too vast an extent to be gradually and safely thinned by their inadequate labour.

It is fit, however, that they should be apprized, before they take an irreparable step, how little it is possible to foresee whether the earth, stripped of its vegetation, shall become an unprofitable desert or a pestilential marsh.

THOMAS-A-BECKET.

You

THIS child of love and wonder was beautiful, brave, lively, even lettered; and we must not wonder that he plunged into the parade and dissipation of the noble companions who condescended to receive him among their friends. He appears to have been originally made Provost of Beverly, before Theobald had prevailed on the King to make him Archdeacon of Canterbury, and subsequently Chancellor. His manners and occupations, his pursuits, his amusements, were eminently worldly. When Henry told him that he was to be Archbishop of Canterbury, he smiled at the metamorphosis: when spoken to more earnestly, he appears to have agreed with all other men in thinking, that the choice could only have arisen from Henry's confidence in him as a blind instrument in his expected contests with the church. Honour alone was, perhaps, enough to call up a sudden blush at so degrading an alliance. "Do not appoint me, sir, I entreat you. place me in the only office in which I may be obliged no longer to be your friend." Thus far his deportment was manly; what followed is more ambiguous. He immediately dismissed his splendid train, cast off his magnificent apparel, abandoned sports and revels, and lived with fewer attendants, coarser clothes, and scantier food, than suited the dignity of his station. That extratraordinary changes suddenly manifest themselves, especially in a lofty and sus, ceptible spirit like that of Becket, is certainly true; and it is evident, on a merely human view of the subject, that personal honour might have quickly revived the sense of professional decorum, and led rapidly to the simple conclusion, that the only sure way of appearing to be good is by being so in truth. A man of decisive character might seek to secure himself from relapse by flying to the opposite extreme in his outward deportment. It is not to be certainly pronounced, that either the subsequent violence of his policy, or the gross inconsistency of some parts of his conduct with his professions, decisively excludes the milder construction of his motives. Moderation is the best pledge of sincerity, but excess is no positive proof of hypocrisy. Though those who suddenly