JAMES HERVEY

Birth-place of Hervey, Author of Meditations. summit of the elevated ground, south from Northampton, near where a road turns to the left to Hardingstone, is one of those singular structures, to the eye of an American, called "crosses." This is called the "Queen's Cross," being one of the thirteen or fourteen erected by Edward I, king of England, about the year 1280, in memory of his wife Eleanor, daughter of Ferdinand III, king of Castile.

The church in which Mr. Hervey preached, an ancient structure, is situated in the centre of a small grave-yard, and was evidently built after the model of some great cathedral. It has much more of a diminutive appearance within, than on the outside, and would contain but a small congregation. The pulpit in which he preached is in the Catholic fashion, on the side. The apparatus for holding the hour-glass, used by Mr. Hervey, still remains. He was buried in the chancel of the church, and a horizontal slab covers his remains, with the following inscription:

"Here lieth the remains of the Rev. JAMES HERVEY, A. M., late Rector of this Parish. That very pious man, and much admired Author, who died December 25th, 1758, in the 45th year of his age."

The above engraving shows the present appearance from the north of the Hervey House, a few rods south of Weston Favel Church. It was in this house his most celebrated works were written, and in the farther chamber of which, he died. From the window of this room, which is nearest the adjoining building, there is a pleasant prospect of the meadow below in the distance. The front of the house is what, in America, would be called the backside, and opens into a flower garden. In it there is a small bower, under which, I was informed, he used to sit and meditate. That part of the house which fronts the street is but little else than a bare naked wall.

The following extracts are from the "Meditations among the Tombs:"

Be composed my spirits; there is nothing to fear in these quiet chambers. "Here, even the wicked cease from troubling." Good heavens! what a solemn scene! How dismal the gloom! Here is perpetual darkness, and night even at noon-day. How doleful the solitude! Not one trace of cheerful society; but sorrow and terror seem to have made this their dreaded abode. Hark! how the hollow dome resounds at

every tread. The echoes, that long have slept, are awakened, and lament and sigh along the walls.

A beam or two finds its way through the grates, and reflects a feeble glimmer from the nails of the coffins. So many of those sad spectacles, half concealed in shades; half seen dimly by the baleful twilight; add a deeper horror to these gloomy mansions. I pore upon the inscriptions-and am just able to pick out, that these are the remains of the rich and renowned. No vulgar dead are deposited here. The Most Illustrious and Right Honorable have claimed this for their last retreat. And, indeed, they retain somewhat of a shadowy pre-eminence. They lie, ranged in mournful order, and in a sort of silent pomp, under the arches of an ample sepulchre, while meaner corpses, without much ceremony, "go down to the stones of the pit."

My apprehensions recover from their surprise. I find here are no phantoms, but such as fear raises. However, it still amazes me, to observe the wonders of this nether world. Those who received vast revenues, and called whole lordships their own, are here reduced to half a dozen feet of earth, or confined in a few sheets of lead. Rooms of state, and sumptious furniture are resigned, for no other ornament than the shroud, for no other apartment than the darksome niche. Where is the star that blazed upon the breast, or coronet that glittered round the temples? The only remains of departed dignity are the weather-beaten hatchment, and the tattered escutcheon. I see no splendid retinue surrounding this solitary dwelling. The lordly equipage hovers no longer about the lifeless master. He has no other attendant than a dusty statue, which, while the regardless world is as gay as ever, the sculptor's hand hath taught to weep.

O Eternity! Eternity! How are our boldest, our strongest thoughts, lost and overwhelmed in thee! Who can set land-marks to limit thy dimensions; or find plumbets to fathom thy depths? Arithmeticians have figures, to compute all the progressions of time. Astronomers have instruments, to calculate the distances of the planets. But what numbers can state, what lines can guage the lengths and breadths of eternity? "It is higher than heaven; what canst thou do? deeper than hell; what canst thou know? The measure thereof is longer than the earth, broader than the sea."

Mysterious, mighty existence! A sum not to be lessened by the largest deductions! an extent not to be contracted by all possible diminutions! None can truly say, after the most prodigious waste of ages; "So much of eternity is gone." For when millions of centuries are elapsed, it is but just commencing; and when millions more have run their ample round, it will be no nearer ending. Yea, when ages, numerous as the bloom of Spring, increased by the herbage of Summer, both augmented by the leaves of Autmn, and all multiplied by the drops of rain which drown the Winter-when these, and ten thousand times ten thousand more-more than can be represented by any similitude, or imagined by any conception-when all these are revolved and finished, Eternity! vast, boundless, amazing eternity, will only be beginning!

JOHN DRYDEN.

JOHN DRYDEN was born August 9, 1631, at the parsonage-house of Aldwinkle, (All Saints,) a parish in the hundred of Huxloe county of Northampton. The church is remarkable for its beautiful tower; it has some windows in the decorated English style, and a small ornamented chapel.

Dryden was the eldest son of Erasmus Dryden, of Tichmersh, in Northamptonshire, but the original stock of the family came from the county of Huntingdon. The subject of this memoir is reported to have inherited from his father, who acted as a justice of the peace during the Protectorate, an estate of £200 a-year. He received the early part of his education in the country, and was then removed to Westminster School, where he was instructed as one of the king's scholars, by Dr. Busby, whence he was elected to a scholarship in Trinity College, Cambridge, and took his degree of Bachelor of Arts. His father dying in 1654, he took possession of his estate, subject,

however, to considerable deductions for the widow and younger children. Of his school performances, only has appeared a poem on the death of Lord Hastings. It was not till the death of Cromwell, in 1658, that he became a candidate for public fame, by publishing Heroic Stanzas on the late Lord Protector. When Charles II was restored, he changed his opinions, and published Astraa Redux, which was quickly followed by A Panegyric on the Coronation. In the year 1688, he was appointed poet laureate and historiographer, in the room of Sir W. Davenant.

Birth-place of Dryden, Aldwinkle, Northamptonshire.

He soon afterwards published his Essay on Dramatic Posey, which he had written in 1665, in his retirement during the plague: previously to this public calamity, he had married Lady Elizabeth Howard. He now became professionally a writer for the stage. On the death of Charles II, he composed his Threnodia Augustalis, a funeral poem; and on the accession of James II, he conformed to the religion of the new sovereign, which compliance gained him an addition to his pension of £100 per annum. He next published two volumes of Miscellany Poems; and many other minor poetical works. In 1694, he commenced his celebrated translation of Virgil; and in 1697, it was sent to press. Having been solicited to write a second ode for St. Cecillia's Day, he produced the admirable Alexander's Feast. The Fables was the last of his great works, for he soon afterwards declined in health; and an inflammation in one of his toes, terminating in a mortification, put an end to his life, at his house in Gerrardstreet, Soho, on the first of May, 1701. The body of this emiment poet was buried in Westminster Abbey, next to that of Chaucer.

CAMBRIDGE, which takes its name from the river Cam or Granta and the bridge over it (for it is called in history both Cambridge and Grantbridge) is situated on a plain 52 miles north of London, and contains about 23,000 inhabitants. It is a very ancient place, and has been for many centuries distinguished as a seat of a celebrated university. That it was a British settlement is ex

tremely probable, and the high artificial hill within the bounds of the ancient intrenchments, is by many supposed to be a specimen of British labor. However this may be, that it was a Roman station by the name of Granta seems certain.

In the year 871, Cambridge was plundered and burnt by the Danes The desolate site was chosen by the invaders, as one of their principal stations. In 875, three of their generals wintered here with an army, and it appears that they occasionally occupied it till the year 921. When the Danish army, quartered at Cambridge, submitted to Edward the Elder, that monarch repaired the decayed buildings, and made it once more a seat of learning. In 1010, the town was again destroyed by its old enemies, the Danes. While the Isle of Ely was held against William the Conqueror by the English nobility, he built here a Castle on the site of the Danish fortress, and twenty-seven houses were destroyed to make room for its erection. In 1088, the town and county were laid waste with fire and sword, by Roger de Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury, who was then in arms in support of the cause of Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy, eldest son of the Conqueror. In 1174, a great fire happened, which, besides doing other extensive damage, injured most of the parish churches, and entirely destroyed that dedicated to the Holy Trinity.

Frequent civil discord followed these melancholy events, and the town suffered greatly from plunder and anarchy during the succeeding century. In the year 1381, too, a serious dispute arose between the townsmen and the University. The townspeople assembled at their hall; and having chosen and obliged James de Grantcestre to act as their leader, they committed the most flagrant acts of violence. They broke open the doors of Corpus Christi College, and carried away the charters, jewels, and other goods belonging to that foundation. They obliged certain of the Masters and others to renounce, under pain of death, and destruction of their dwellings, all the privileges that had ever been granted them. After this, they broke open the University-Chest in St. Mary's Church, and taking out all the records, burnt them, with the other papers, in the market-place. Many other acts of violence accompanied these proceedings; and the misguided crowd, to ensure their own safety, forced certain of the principal Members of the University to sign a bond, which vested its entire future government in the burgesses of the town; and contained an acquittance from all actions which might be brought against them on account of the present tumults. Soon afterwards, however, this ursurped power was wrested from their hands, by Henry le Spencer, Bishop of Norwich, who entered with some soldiers. Several of the principal leaders were imprisoned during life; the Mayor was deprived of his office; and the liberties of the town, granted by King John and Henry III, were declared forfeited, and part of them bestowed on the Chancellor of the University. The Charter was however renewed to the Corporation in the following year, but with abridged privileges; and it was also afterwards confirmed by Henry IV, in 1404; again by Henry VI, in 1423 and 1437, and lastly by Henry VIII, in 1548. For nearly a century after this, little ocurred relating to the history of the town which claims notice here, if we may except the unhappy strife