Euphemia Frogmore, a girl of talent and beauty, but radically heartless and hollow, with an eye to the estate of the old uncle, bent all her energies to secure the hand of Ashley Nugent. Mrs Frogmore lent most hearty aid to both. Betweeen Ashley Nugent and a certain Edith St Clair, daughter of Colonel St Clair, who resided in the neighbourhood, there had been in early days a close friendship. She was a girl of beauty, of piety, and of resolute character. On returning to his home, Ashley's first visit was to the colonel's, and everything indicated a continuance of his old affection for Edith. But their religious opinions were radically different; both were persons of strong character; so a separation took place. This of course opened the gates of success to Miss Euphemia Frogmore. By a succession of wiles, which Ashley should have penetrated, matters were soon placed in a fair way; Mrs Frogmore was jubilant, Miss Euphemia was more than content, and Ashley was in love. Meantime, a certain Captain Frogmore, a pretentious piece of nonentity in epaulettes, commenced a series of attentions to Isabella Nugent, and even succeeded in making some impression. For Isabella had outraged her moral nature by contracting an intimacy with the Frogmores, and becoming a party in their pleasures, while conscious of their want of vital godliness; her life had become, in great measure, morbid and joyless; and, in the far future, it seemed possible that she would even throw herself away on the captain. This consummation was desirable to that worthy, on account of a handsome dowery which was expected from the important uncle. Matters were in this state when a very important change took place, which will conduct us, in brief space, to the conclusion of our task of condensation. The old uncle resolved to marry! The lovelorn Miss Euphemia, who had all along shown herself of sentimental ecstatic nature, suddenly wrapped herself in the ice-garb of prudence, and had nothing whatsoever to say to Mr Ashley Nugent. The latter had to console himself as he best might; it surely was no difficult task. The touch of the alchymist could turn baser metal into gold; so at least say multifarious authorities. But the king of alchymists is the bland magician Gold. Let him but withdraw his aid, and how the gentle strings which bind the favoured mortal to 'good society' snap asunder! How soon do the smiles, and gratulations, and flatteries, and thousand delicate blandishments vanish! And in their stead how soon do cold obstruction, neglect, exclusion, and contempt ensue! So, of course, was it in the case of the Frogmores and Nugents. Such is Mrs Shepherd's tale. The grand defect of the volume is an imperfect analysis, an imperfect tracing of fundamental principles. Her aim, however, was high, and in some quarters her honest endeavour may be productive of good; we shall always be ready to welcome a volume from her pen. alone that they are deserving of attention. In another light they bear an important relation to industrial science. The farmer may smile if I call his attention to the Weeds with which he is at perpetual war. It would be well for farmers, however, to devote more attention than they do to the many enemies, vegetable and animal, that infest the fields. The practical agriculturist is often at a loss to point to the most profitable remedy in cases where the land is suffering from a luxuriant growth of unprofitable, indigenous plants. Moreover the native vegetation of a farm has, I am convinced, a much more intimate connection with some of the most important operations carried on upon it, than has as yet been dreamt of in the philosophy of farming. Were I to put forth a subsidiary plea for the farmer's attention to native botany, it would be on the ground of this delightful and refining science being so peculiarly suitable and congenial to one whose daily operations lead him to the fields, and enable him to enjoy continual contact with nature. Bertram, the American botanist, caught a love of botany by the simple act of pulling a violet at his feet while directing some farm operations; may I hope that some farming reader, being induced to pluck a golden Buttercup from the hillside pasture, may be induced to prosecute farther inquiry into the economy of the numerous plants which, unsown and unreaped, infest the cultivated fields, known only by the opprobrious epithet of pests of the farm? The natural order Ranunculaceae is one eminently celebrated for its acrid and poisonous properties, including, in the genus Aconitum, the plant which produces the celebrated Bikh of India, one of the most powerful of vegetable poisons. The genus Ranunculus is familiarly known in the pastures of our own land by the popular names of Crowfoot, Buttercup, and Spearwort. The Buttercup is dedicated by the poets to childhood; and their writings are full of allusions to it in connection with childhood scenes: 'Before the door, with paths untraced, The greensward many a beauty graced; One of the species (R. ficaria) is the lesser Celandine of Wordsworth, to which in pleasant mood he dedicated a little poem. Although belonging to an order so famed as an assemblage of pernicious plants, the British Ranunculi are not all acrid and poisonous in the same degree, and some of them not at all. Among the species distinguished for acridity may be enumerated R. acris, arvensis, bulbosus, flammula, and sceleratus; and among those of a mild nature, R. aquatilis, auricomus, ficaria, and repens. We shall notice some of them in detail. The spring-flowering Buttercup, which appears so plentifully on hilly pastures, is the R. bulbosus, or Bulbous-rooted Crowfoot. It is acrid, although not so powerfully so as to prove injurious to cattle, being commonly devoured by them along with the other herbage of the pasture. It is BUTTERCUPS: THEIR HISTORY AND USES. extremely abundant, and is readily known by the solid 'Nor all forgotten be those humbler flowers- Ah! joyous time! through verdant meads to rove, BUTTERCUPS are pleasantly associated in the mind of every one. We all gathered them in our early days, and were enraptured with their beauty. We have since followed the poets in their depictions of these lovely flowers and their associations. In years of maturity and age, the world's experience has not rubbed off all our remembrance of Buttercups and early joys; but that experience suggests a new inquiry that entered not into our previous considerations and disturbed not our youthful fancies. Buttercups are very beautiful; but what of their utility? Are they good for nothing?' Buttercups have their economical uses, but it is not on account of their uses bulbous root; in very dry pastures it is often of a small size. The Creeping Crowfoot (R. repens) is an abundant weed in fields and gardens, and is especially plentiful by hedgerows and in waste places. It rarely ripens seeds; but the creeping runners which it produces rapidly extend themselves over the soil, becoming interlaced with the surrounding herbage, and giving birth to a numerous progeny of young plants. The abundance of this weed all over the country, and its capability of speedily overrunning cultivated lands if allowed to propagate, render it expedient that more than ordinary pains should be taken in its eradication from the fields and waysides. Its creeping scions readily distinguish it from all the other field species. The Upright Meadow Crowfoot (R. acris) is likewise plentiful in our pastures and meadows, and ascends to a great elevation upon the mountains. Its specific name might lead to the belief that it is the most acrid species of the family; but this is not the case. However, it possesses the property in a sufficient degree to preserve its flowering stems in the pasture, untouched under ordinary circumstances by the browsing herds. In my copy of the Compendium Flora Britannicæ,' there is a MS. note, amongst several others of agricultural interest, by an unknown hand, remarking that this plant is very acrid, and avoided by cattle, but, like others of the genus, it is eaten after more agreeable food has been consumed, serving perhaps as a carminative or mustard to them.' being boiled, he found very amalyceous. There is no acridity in the roots even in their fresh state. The Buttercups or Crowfoots form one of the most dangerous families belonging to our British Flora. The preceding observations may serve to point out the properties of the species which generally occur in Britain, and thus enable non-botanical readers of the INSTRUCTOR to guard against accidents which frequently occur from the use of these plants. THE YETHOLM GIPSIES. Types of countless generations, that have lived since earth began, The Corn Crowfoot (R. arvensis) is exceedingly acrid, and a deadly poison, being far more dangerous than any other native Ranunculus. According to the experiments of M. Brugnon, three ounces of the juice of this plant sufficed to kill a dog in the space of four minutes. This is perhaps the most dangerous weed that occurs in our cultivated fields, and every vestige of it ought to be eradicated the moment that the plant is observed to make its appearance. Unlike most other unwholesome plants, it THE Gipsies,' says the Rev. J. Baird of Yetholm, are a is not refused by domestic cattle; but, on the contrary, is most remarkable people;' and certainly no one acquainted said to be greedily devoured by them. Smith observes, with those in his parish will be disposed to question the that 'several sheep were killed by feeding on this herb near affirmation. Whether we regard their origin, their history, Turin, which first led to an investigation of the matter. their habits, or their type of feature, they are an extraordiCholie, with inflammation of the stomach, were the symp-nary race. To trace them down from the first breaking toms; which were best removed by pouring vinegar down the animals' throats. Hence, like most vegetable poisons, this Crowfoot seems to act on the nerves, and yet black spots were found in the sheep's stomachs.' The Field Crowfoot is easily known from all the other species by its rigid, erect habit, and especially by the achenes or carpels of the fruit being conspicuously covered with prickles. Lightfoot adds his testimony to its poisonous qualities, remarking-The juice of this kind is acrid. An ounce of it given to a dog has killed him in three days, the stomach being inflamed, corroded, and blistered.' Luckily, this is not a common plant; nor is it constant in its appearance in certain fields. It most frequently appears suddenly in a field (having probably been introduced along with agricultural seeds), and in course of a year or two completely disappears. The Celery-leaved Crowfoot (R. sceleratus) is a tallgrowing, semi-aquatic species, with blossoms much smaller than those of the other kinds. The luxuriance of its appearance depends in a great measure upon the soil in which it grows. It can scarcely be called a pasture or even a meadow weed, generally inhabiting the slimy margins of lakes and the banks of ditches, chiefly those containing impure water. It is a soft, juicy plant, and very acrid. Lightfoot says, that, if bruised and laid upon any part of the body, it will in a few hours raise a blister.' It is said that sores caused by it in this way are difficult to heal, and that strolling beggars sometimes endeavour to excite compassion by its application to their bodies. A note in my Compend. Fl. Brit.' says, 'alleged from acrimony to have been fatal to sheep. The Spearwort (R. flammula) often grows along with Sceleratus, and, although acrid, is perhaps not so deleterious. In Scotland, it is sometimes used by the country people in the making of cheese. up of the kingdom whence they have come, through all their changes of fortune, and to delineate the condition in which they are found in the various countries they inhabit, would be an excellent contribution to history, and no mean chapter in the record of the progress of civilisation. This is a work worthy the attention of the author of the 'Gipsy in Spain,' and 'Lavengro;' and one for which he is admirably qualified. Into any of the questions into which such an investigation would lead us, we do not mean to enter. We have it in view to sketch the history and character of a small, but by no means obscure, Scottish colony of the gipsy tribe, and therefore need not trouble ourselves with determining whether Egypt or Hindostan is their native country, how many gipsies there are in Europe and India, and many other inquiries, which, although in themselves interesting, do not necessarily come in our way. The colony to which we refer is resident in Yetholm.* Properly speaking, there are two villages which bear this name. They are separated by a stream called the Bowmont, and a haugh of about a quarter of a mile in breadth. The village on the south side is called Kirk Yetholm, and the other Town Yetholm. The former, which is only about a third of the size of the latter, and by no means so respectable in appearance, is the residence of the gipsies. They were doubtless attracted thither by the benefits which the inhabitants derived from an extensive common, and probably also by the opportunity for plundering and smuggling which proximity to the English border afforded. At what time or from what place the first colonists came cannot be very well ascertained. According to the present king, the Faas, whom he considers the founders of the colony, came about the Battle of Flodden. He alleges that they are of Egyptian origin—the name being nothing more than a corruption of Pharaoh! The king has evidently been led to adopt this notion from the assumptions which the gipsy leaders made when they travelled as Christian pilgrims who had been expelled from Egypt by the Saracens, and took such titles as kings, dukes, and lords of Lesser Egypt. In a writ of James V., we find Johnie Faa mentioned as 'Lord and Erle of Littill Egypt.' But the king of the gipsies descends to more minute details than such historical notices warrant. He traces the origin of the Faas to no less a personage than Solomon! Solomon was married to a daughter of Pharaoh, and from this daughter the Faas are descended!' This attempt on the part of the king to trace the origin of the gipsies to remote antiquity, reminds us of De Wyntown's fabulous account of the descent of the Scots. There is a considerable resemblance between the Few of the Ranunculi are edible; but one instance of this is found in a British species, R. ficaria, the common Celandine, which is found abundantly on wet shady banks, and produces its bright golden blossoms early in springtime. Plants of this species, the Ficaria rerna of some authors, raised from roots which had been gathered in Silesia by the Rev. Mr Wade, in 1848, have been raised by Mr M'Nab of the Edinburgh Botanic Garden. These roots had been exposed over a large extent of country in Austria by heavy rains, and the common people gathered them, and used them as an article of food. Their sudden appearance gave rise to various conjectures as to their nature and origin, and in the Austrian journals they were spoken of as if they had fallen from the sky. The small bodies were used as pease by the inhabitants. Mr M'Nab had tasted the dried specimens, as well as fresh roots of Yetholm lies about seven and a half miles south of Kelso, and Ranunculus ficaria gathered in this country, which, after within a mile of the English border. fictions of the gipsy king and those of the monk of St Serfs; but we may safely acquit his majesty of borrowing his account from the Oryginale Chronykil.' wish. Before the gudeman retired to rest, she requested him to give her all his money, except a few shillings, that she might keep it safely during the night; for she told him that the gang on their return would pay no regard to the rights of hospitality. The few shillings were simply to prevent suspicion of collusion between Jean and the gudeman. Jean was right in her conjecture, and her manoeuvre was successful. In the morning, the gudeman arose and departed while the gang were asleep. Jean accompanied him part of the way, and returned him his money; but no entreaties could prevail upon her to accept a single guinea for her kindness. Heavier trials, however, were awaiting her than the delinquencies of her sons. It is said that they were all condemned to be hanged on the same day. One of the jurors had fallen asleep during the deliberation, and the others were equally divided. On their sleepy brother being ap pealed to for his verdict, he cried Hang them a',' and thus decided their fate. Jean was present at the trial, and, when she heard the result, only said, 'The Lord help the innocent in a day like this.' But, be the progenitor of the Faas whom he may, certain it is that they settled in Yetholm at an early period, and that since that time the village has been the chief gipsy residence in Scotland. For a minute history of the tribe from its first settlement, sufficient materials have not come into our hands. Many notices of the extraordinary gipsies who have flourished in the tribe have been collected and published, and others are still preserved by the old men who have been long resident in the village. The historical matter, therefore, which we shall offer will consist in brief sketches of the leading characters that have appeared in the colony, as well as those of note still living. In this way, although not obtaining sufficient information to show us the social changes which the gipsies have undergone since they first came to Yetholm, we shall obtain an insight into some of the marked features of their character. The list of remarkable personages in the colony is pretty large, so that we must be careful of selection. At the head stands Jean Gordon, who is supposed to have been born at Kirk Yetholm, in 1670. The anecdotes which are told of her show that she was no ordinary woman. She was of commanding aspect, bold and impetuous disposition, and led a life as chequered as it was tragical. Among the first of her trials was the banishment of her husband, Patrick Faa, who had been convicted of fire-raising. In accordance with the barbarous spirit of the times and the Draconian character of the laws, Patrick was whipped through the town of Jedburgh, nailed by the ear to the cross for an hour, cropped in both his ears, and, to crown all, was sent to the queen's plantations in America. This severe affliction, although it may have bowed, did not break, the spirit of Jean. In the same year, 1714, another incident occurred no less trying in its nature, but one which developed a remarkable trait in her character. One of her sons had been murdered by another gipsy of the name of Rob. Johnson. For ten years the murderer eluded the officers of justice; but he was captured at last, indicted, tried, found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged. Johnson, however, managed to escape from prison; but the vindictive spirit of Jean was unappeased, and nothing would sa-penetrating eyes, and, even in her old age, bushy hair, tisfy her but the death of the murderer. Accordingly, she tracked him with all the savage keenness of a bloodhound, followed him to Holland, thence to Ireland, where she succeeded in getting him seized, and brought to Jedburgh; and in a short time she had the satisfaction of seeing him hanged on the Gallows Hill. This fact discovers the indomitable energy of her character, the masculine heroism for which she was distinguished, and the implacable resentment which is still a feature in the gipsy character. But Jean was by no means a stranger to the finer feelings. Extremes, indeed, generally meet in the same person, and they who are the most implacable are frequently the most affectionate. This was true in the present case; for, although Jean cherished the strongest resentment against those who had done her wrong, yet she always remembered with gratitude the kindness of her benefactors. Confirmatory of this, we may relate the following story which is still current in Yetholm, and regarded as authentic. Having been always kindly treated by the gudeman of Lochside (a farm in the neighbourhood), she refrained from committing any depredations on his property; but her sons were not influenced by the same consideration, and on one occasion carried off some of his live stock. Jean was sorely grieved by their conduct, and was so ashamed, that for years she was never seen in that district, and probably would never have met the gudeman again, had he not come accidentally in her way, as he was returning through the Cheviots from Newcastle. Having been benighted, he sought shelter in the first house which he saw, and which, to his astonishment, was occupied by Jean. She received him kindly, and insisted upon his staying for the night. She stated the reasons of her long absence, made numerous observations on the corrupt state of the world, regretted that her sons were now beyond her control, and were not conducting themselves as she could . Her own end was somewhat tragical. In politics she took a great interest, and warmly espoused the cause of the Jacobites. Being at Carlisle shortly after the Pretender's defeat at Culloden, she was seized by the rabble, who were determined to show their loyalty by wreaking their vengeance on a Jacobite woman. She was dragged to the Eden and ducked; but, being a woman of great strength, she struggled hard, and, as often as she got her head above water, cried, Charlie yet!' The infuriated mob persisted in their treatment till she was drowned. Jean is the prototype of the Meg Merrilees of Sir Walter Scott; but before this was acknowledged by the author of Guy Mannering,' it was difficult to say whether the great novelist had Jean or her grand-daughter Madge principally in his eye. Madge was in many respects no less remarkable than Jean. In a small volume, entitled Exploits of the Gipsies,' which was kindly lent us by the king, we find the following description of Madge:-'She was of a very commanding appearance and high stature, being nearly six feet high. She had a large aquiline nose, that hung around her shoulders from beneath a gipsy bonnet of straw; a short cloak of peculiar fashion, and a long staff nearly as tall as herself. When she spoke vehemently (for she had many complaints), she used to strike her staff upon the floor, and throw herself into an attitude which it was impossible to regard with indifference. From these traits,' the writer continues, of the manners of Jean and Madge Gordon, it may be perceived, that it would be difficult to determine which of the two Meg Merrilees was intended for; it may therefore, without injustice, be divided between both. So that, if Jean was the prototype of her character, it is very probable that Madge must have sat to the author of Guy Mannering,' as the representative of her person.' Madge was married to a William Young. The wedding was celebrated with great glee. The laird of Cherrytrees honoured the company with his presence, and condescended to witness the donkey races, and other sports, which are always accompaniments of this kind. There were, we are told, not fewer than thirty donkeys present on the occasion. Madge's father-in-law was also a noted hero in his day, having distinguished himself in the Flanders war, particularly at the storming of Fontenoy. Here he saved the life of one of the Bennets of the barony of Grubet, and, on his return home, was rewarded with a free house in Kirk Yetholm, which his descendants continued to enjoy for many years. But this was not the only incident which brought the gipsies under the favourable notice of the Bennet family. In 1745, the rebels, passing through Yetholm on their return from England, stole a favourite mare of Sir David Bennet's. Gleed-neckit-Will, father of the late king, and at that time a leading character among the gipsies, by a well-planned stratagem recovered the mare, and he also had a free house awarded him for his trouble. Having mentioned Will, it may be well to notice a story which was told of him by the late minister of the parish, presented himself as Dr Douglas of Yetholm, in which and which discovers some curious features in Will's cha- place, he wished it to be understood, he carried on an exracter. The Rev. Mr Leck, the gentleman to whom we tensive practice. At length he won the heart of the barhave just referred, happened to be returning home, at ber's daughter, and made her his wife. When the regiment rather a late hour, from Northumberland, by an unfre- broke up, the doctor returned to Yetholm; and, with chaquented road. In a secluded glen, through which his way racteristic fickleness, left his wife behind him. But she led, there was a ruined house, from which Mr Leck saw was not to be baulked. She set out for Yetholm, and, on gleams of light issuing. As he came near, he could dis- her arrival, made inquiry for Dr Douglas; but, to her surcover strange faces peeping out at the door behind a cur-prise, was told that there was no such man in the village, tain, and figures flitting about among the bourtree-bushes and that the only persons of that name were to be found behind the house. When he had come within a short dis- among the gipsies. Nothing daunted, she inquired at the tance of the place, one of the party, without allowing him settlement, and soon found her doctor, not in his laboramuch time for reflection, darted forward, seized his horse tory, but surrounded with willows, heather, and asses' panby the bridle, and demanded his money. The minister, niers, busily plying his vocation of besom-making. This, recognising the voice of his parishioner Will, said, 'Dear one would have supposed, was enough to break her heart; sake me, Will, can this be you? Ye're surely no serious but with me. Ye wadna sae far wrang yer character for a gude neighbour for the bit trifle I ha'e to gi'e.' 'Lord saif us, Mr Leck!' said Will, quitting the reins, and lifting his hat, wha wad ha'e thocht o' meeting you out here-o'way? Ye needna gripe for ony siller to me: I wadna touch a plack o' your gear, nor a hair o' your head, for a' the gowd o' Teviotdale. I ken ye'll no' do us an ill turn for this mistake, and I'll e'en see you safe through the eerie Staw; it's no' reckoned a canny bit, mair ways nor ane; but I wat weel ye'll no' be feared for the dead, an' I'll tak' care o' the leevin'. Will saw the minister safely through the Staw, and Mr Leck, in accordance with Will's request, never mentioned the occurrence till after Will's death. Will had twenty-four children, all of whom were baptised by Mr Leck. In those days, the christening was in variably performed in the church. The mother was attended by two young girls called kimmers, who were provided with a liberal supply of bread and cheese, which they were to give to the first person they met. On one occasion, Miss Susannah Leck, daughter of the minister, acted as a kimmer, and attended a grand dinner, which was prepared specially against the ceremony. In these good olden times,' everything seems to have been on a great scale-even begging, as those who remember Andrew Gemmel can testify. Will Faa, the late king, was son of Gleed-neckit-Will. He was the first king acknowledged in Yetholm. Will was a man of great muscular strength, and was characterised by singular energy and boldness of character. When we knew him, he was bending under the load of years-a quiet old man, plying the pleasant vocation of angling, and occasionally shooting. Will was never interfered with for infringing the game laws. He was widely respected, and was not unfrequently a guest at the table of some of the local grandees. Will was a noted smuggler in his day. Many attempts were made to capture him; but he always managed to escape. On one occasion, coming from Boomer with gin, he was beset by six gaugers, armed with swords. Will had only a stout hazel stick; but he wielded it with such dexterity, that he not only defied them to take him, but inflicted several severe wounds upon them. His stick was at last cut to pieces, and Will received a severe swordcut in the wrist; but the only complaint he made was, that they had spoiled the best bow hand in all Scotland. Will claimed kinship with Provost Faa of Dunbar. Jamie Allan, the famous piper and noted robber, was well known to the late king, and on one occasion received some marks of favour at the gipsy court. Will was gathered to his fathers at a good old age, being ninety-four when he died. Among those still living and resident in Yetholm, are some whom it would be injustice to pass over without notice. No one has probably led a more romantic life than Andrew Douglas. Our space does not allow us to mention many of the strange incidents in his history, but we cannot omit a brief account of one of his adventures. Andrew was a private in a volunteer regiment, which, at the time of our story, was lying in Durham. Being by no means insensible to the charms of the fair sex, he fell in love with the daughter of a respectable barber. The gipsy re What will not gentle woman dare, She When strong affection stirs her spirit up?' Mary settled down with her doctor in Yetholm, and conformed to the travelling habits of the tribe. She maintained, and still maintains, an air of respectability. has brought up a numerous family to habits of industry; and we suppose she and her husband are spending their old age in peace- the evening of their days,' to borrow from Washington Irving, gliding away in mild, uninterrupted solitude.' Mention of William Ruthven, famous in his day as a swordsman, and a distinguished soldier in the Irish rebellion, and of Matthew Blythe, alias Hairy Matthew, remarkable for his personal appearance, whom Blumenbach or Pritchard would have mistaken for a species of the chimpanzee or ourang-outang, must be omitted. Nor can we enter into any detail of the life and wonderful narrations of David Blythe, father of the present king, whose tales were of such a nature as to entitle him to rank by the side of Baron Munchausen. We have only space to sketch the life and character of his present majesty, Charles Blythe. Charles is not a native of Yetholm, having been born at Walsingham, in Yorkshire. He was four years old when he came to live in the colony which he now governs. He learned the trade of his father, that of a cooper, which he followed for many years. According to his own account, he is not of gipsy extraction; but, whether this be correct or not, he has become naturalised, and is now regarded as one of the tribe. Charles was brother-in-law to the late king, and, in consequence of this relationship, as well as his being the oldest man in the village, was elected to the throne when Will Faa died. Unlike most of the other gipsies in Yetholm, King Charles is a man of extensive information. His range of reading is by no means limited, and his memory retains much traditional lore. He is well acquainted with the old ballad literature of the Borders, and with the history of his country. He is in possession of Buchanan's History of Scotland,' and Montague's cumbrous History of England,' which he alleges he has read and compared, whenever they touch on matters pertaining to both kingdoms. In politics, his majesty takes a deep interest; and one of his favourite occupations now is gathering and discussing the news of the day. He is a keen liberal, as most of the gipsies are, rather inclined to radicalism, we should say. Indeed, if we mistake not, there is a little of the red republican spirit in the whole colony. In religion, his majesty is thoroughly Protestant. He is a regular attendant of the Established Church, and has been for years a member, although he confesses that he cannot sympathise with all the principles embodied in its creed. His majesty was well acquainted with Sir Walter Scott, and speaks with much pride of his frequent conver sations with the great novelist. Not being a lover of romance, the king does not relish the novels of Scott. canons of criticism do not admit of any dealing with fiction. His His life, so far as we know, was distinguished by no particular incidents up to the period of his election as king. Like the other gipsies, he travelled the country, manufacturing and selling, and experiencing all the joys as well as miseries of gipsy life. But the frailties of old In another paper we shall sketch the present condition and habits of the Yetholm Gipsies, and notice the efforts which have been made to improve their social state, and the success which has followed. FLEET. [From a paper entitled 'England's Forgotten Worthies,' in the • Westminster Review.'] age have now forced him to remain at home. His coronation, which took place a few years ago, was an event of no ordinary kind in Yetholm. The details of the whole proceedings were published in the local newspapers, and were copied into almost every paper in the kingdom. On the occasion referred to, the king was caused to mount a white SIR RICHARD GRENVILLE AND THE SPANISH palfrey, which was led by two grooms. Two retainers followed on donkeys. The Yetholm musical band was in attendance, and a strong muster of retainers, all prepared to do honour to the new king. The scene, we are told, IN August, 1591, Lord Thomas Howard, with six Engwas one of the most ludicrous that can well be conceived: lish line-of-battle ships, six victuallers, and two or three -Charles sitting with all the dignity of one who is about pinnaces, were lying at anchor under the Island of Florez. to be elevated to an important position, and the motley Light in ballast and short of water, with half their men crowd of followers in glorious disorder cheering their disabled by sickness, they were unable to pursue the ag monarch, and shouting, Long live Charles the First!'gressive purpose on which they had been sent out. Several The king rode round the common, which he regards as his dominions. At the stob-stone, he was anointed with whisky instead of oil, and publicly proclaimed king. In the evening, some of the chief men of the colony entertained his majesty at supper; and the evening was spent amidst the most boisterous merriment. On that occasion, his majesty made a brief but pithy speech, in which he declared his intention to use every means in his power to promote the welfare of his most loyal and loving subjects, and to preserve their right to the common. But who can tell what the wheel of fortune will bring round? Much of the affection which subsisted between the king and his subjects has subsided, and Charles has had to vindicate his authority by physical power, of which, although in the 'sere and yellow leaf,' he possesses no inconsiderable amount. Not long ago, there were even symptoms of a revolution being at hand in the colony, and some talk of a formal deposition of his majesty; but he still holds the reins of government. According to his majesty's account, the disaffection was chiefly caused by certain members of the tribe whose general conduct he has never seen it his duty to approve. But be this as it may, for the present there is peace, and his majesty is determined to exert himself to the utmost to preserve it. There is no revenue attached to the kingship-a circumstance of which his majesty bitterly complains. He confesses his utter inability to see how it is compatible with justice and honour to elect a man for the purpose of filling so onerous a position as his, and make no provision for a suitable remuneration. There can be no doubt the conduct of the gipsies in this respect is reprehensible, and we trust they will soon see it their duty to pay their king for his services. Notwithstanding this, Charles has reaped no inconsiderable advantages from his new position. Strangers visiting Yetholm generally call on the king of the gipsies. Lord and Lady John Scott, Lord Campbell, Duke of Atholl, Earl of Breadalbane, and others, have visited his majesty. With some of them, indeed, we believe he has dined. By the donations received from such quarters, and the weekly allowance kindly settled on him by Lady John Scott, as well as the support which he receives from other sources, his majesty may be said to be in comfortable circumstances. His physical appearance it is not so easy to sketch. He is a man of stalwart frame, considerably above the middle size. The wandering habits of his early years, and other peculiarities in his nomadic mode of life, have given a slight tinge of ferocity to his features; while a swarthy complexion, dark eyebrows, piercing eyes, stiff grey beard, seldom neatly shaven, and unkempt hair, correspond well, and heighten the effect. The whole expression, however, betokens intellect and energy of character. He looks like a wild man dwelling in tents,' and reminds us sometimes of those rude engravings of Pan which we meet with before the times of steel and copper prints. His dress is in no ways peculiar: knee-breeches; good woollen stockings; a coat somewhat the worse of the wear; a waistcoat rather lengthy, and not quite new in appearance; with a hat by no means cylindrical in form; serve as some of his habiliments. Such is King Charles! May he long reign over his tribe, subdue their turbulence, and make them good members of society. of the ships' crews were on shore; the ships themselves all pestered and rommaging,' with everything out of order. In this condition they were surprised by a Spanish fleet, consisting of 53 men-of-war. Eleven out of the twelve English ships obeyed the signal of the admiral, to cut or weigh their anchors and escape as they might. The twelfth, the Revenge, was unable for the moment to follow; of her crew of 190, 90 being sick on shore, and, from the position of the ship, there being some delay and difficulty in getting them on board. The Revenge was commanded by Sir Richard Grenville, of Bideford, a man well known in the Spanish seas, and the terror of the Spanish sailors; so fierce he was said to be, that mythic stories passed from lip to lip about him, and, like Earl Talbot or Coeur de Lion, the nurses at the Azores frightened children with the sound of his name. 'He was of great revenues,' they said, of his own inheritance, but of unquiet mind, and greatly affected to wars,' and from his uncontrollable propensities for blood-eating, he had volunteered his services to the queen; 'of so hard a complexion was he, that I (John Huighen von Linschoten, who is our authority here, and who was with the Spanish fleet after the action) have been told by divers credible persons who stood and beheld him, that he would carouse three or four glasses of wine, and take the glasses between his teeth, and crush them in pieces, and swallow them down.' Such he was to the Spaniard. To the English he was a goodly and gal lant gentleman, who had never turned his back upon an enemy, and remarkable in that remarkable time for his constancy and daring. In this surprise at Florez He was in no haste to fly. He first saw all his sick on board and stowed away on the ballast, and then, with no more than 100 men left him to fight and work the ship, he deliberately weighed, uncertain, as it seemed at first, what he intended to do. The Spanish fleet were by this time on his weather bow, and he was persuaded (we here take his cousin Raleigh's beautiful narrative, and follow in his own words) to cut his mainsail and cast about, and trust to the sailing of the ship. But Sir Richard utterly refused to turn from the enemy, alleging that he would rather choose to die than to dishonour himself, his country, and her majesty's ship, persuading his company that he would pass through their two squadrons in despite of them, and enforce those of Seville to give him way, which he performed upon divers of the foremost, who, as the mariners term it, sprang their luff, and fell under the lee of the Revenge. But the other course had been the better, and might right well have been answered in so great an impossibility of prevailing; notwithstanding, out of the greatness of his mind, he could not be persuaded. The wind was light; the San Philip, a huge high-carged ship,' of 1500 tons, came up to windward of him, and taking the wind out of his sails, ran aboard him. After the Revenge was entangled with the San Philip, four others boarded her, two on her larboard, and two on her starboard. The fight thus beginning at three o'clock in the afternoon, continued very terrible all that evening. But the great San Philip, having received the lower tier of the Revenge, shifted herself with all diligence from her sides, utterly misliking her first entertainment. The Spanish ships were filled with soldiers, in some 200, besides the mariners, in some 500, in | others 800. In ours there were none at all, besides the |