THE

DAY,

HINTS FOR ESTABLISHING AN ACADEMY FOR GASTRONOMICAL DISSECTION..

Heaven sends meat and the Devil sends Carvers.

NEW VERSION OF AN OLD PROVERB.

It is no uncommon thing, for those who imagine they can point out a desideratum in the state of society, to commence by bringing under the review of their readers, a long list of existing advantages. In accordance with this very old practice of theoretical projectors, we could very easily, did our limits permit, enumerate the many useful establishments, at present in operation among us, not only for the necessary parts of education, but also for those which are considered ornamental. Without alluding to the various acquirements that are thought requisite, towards forming the education of such, as are intended for the mere drudgery of the counting-house, we may safely affirm, without the fear of contradiction, that Scotland affords as many opportunities of attaining a proficiency in those arts and accomplishments, which are generally considered essential towards forming that most imposing of all characters, the finished gentleman, as any other part of his Majesty's dominions; when we say so, we must be understood to mean, those requisites the knowledge of which a pecuniary consideration can command. Yet, amid this plenitude of the means and opportunities of information, it must be confessed, that in the duties of the table, particularly where carving is required, our countrymen to the North of the Tweed, are greatly inferior to their neighbours, on the South of that well-known boundary. This deficiency, in what may be reckoned an every-day matter of life, can be accounted for in two very different ways: in the first place, the Scots are an intellectual not a sensual people, and, in consequence, the affairs of the table form but an object of secondary consideration among them. In the next place—and which, we believe, contains the real secret of the matter-Scotsmen in general, except those in the higher ranks of life, are brought up with so much attention to economy at home, that in early life they have very few opportunities for domestic practice, and without this practice, or that which they could procure, by an early initiation to the Traveller's Room, which may be viewed as the grand school of gastronomical dissection, they have little chance of acquiring even a common-place acquaintance with the art. So much is this the case, that it is no uncommon thing to see a young man, otherwise well-informed, and with perhaps twenty years' experience in the art of mastication, sitting on the edge of his chair, and holding his knife and fork, as if he intended to beat a tatoo on his plate. Even among town-bred Scots, we have observed men, who had seen the best part of half a century over their heads, looking very shy at the tin covers on entering a dining room, and shifting and shuffling about, till they got ensconced in what they considered a safe corner. These men, from their manner, may almost be supposed, in the language of the nursery, to have been brought up on the spoon considerable part of their lives, and ever afterwards entertain a sort of innate reluctance, to handle anything of a larger size, while engaged in the business of the table. We could record innumerable awkwardnesses, and many ridiculous mishaps, which have befallen these

for a

left-handed characters, when forced, as it were, to take the carving knife in hand, but as the class to which they belong rather abounds in our neighbourhood, we shall refrain from being too loquacious, in case we give offence where it is not intended. In the observations, however, which we have already made, and in those that we may hereafter make, either on this, or any other subject of an unpalatable nature, we request it to be particularly understood, that all the regular subscribers to "The Day" are to be considered as wholly exempt, and as this is an advantage which no other periodical holds out to the public, we trust our friends will estimate the boon at its full value.

The preceding hints, all tending to shew the necessity of an academy for the encouragement of gastronomical dissection in our city, has been, in a great measure, suggested by circumstances which fell under our observation, while occasionally dining out during the late festivities. One of these circumstances occurred at a Christmas party, to which the writer was invited by his tailor,* Mr. Nicol Twist. Nicol, as the clock struck six, stepped into his place at the foot of the table, in full puff, where he found a large, plump, wellfed goose smoking before him, and Mrs. Twist, a tidy little chitty-chatty body, born within the sound of Bow Bells, and of course up to all that is comfortable in the "wictualling" department, fronting him, with a large tureen-full of hare soup. The soup was soon despatched, and poor Nicol was called upon to handle his weapons, but

Alas! what dangers do environ

The man that meddles with cold iron!

Nicol raised his carver, but seemed utterly at a loss where to direct it; he looked round with a supplicating air, and at last, in a fit of desperation, applied it to that part which is called the parson's nose; this he managed to detach, and placed it, with a tremulous hand, on the plate of a young lady, who seemed by no means taken with the portion allotted her. He next attacked one of the legs, but he might as well have attempted to detach the statue of King William from his saddle; he hacked, and blushed, and blushed, and hacked, and seemed perfectly unable to help the company to any gravy, which, to do him justice, we must say, was flying about in all directions. The scene now engaged the attention of the whole table, and poor Mrs. Twist, who seemed quite astonished at her husband's incapacity, (they had not been long married,) sat fretting her pretty face into all manner of shapes. Her displeasure, however, at last burst forth. My dear," said she, in a tone of the most ironical bitterness, you had better send up stairs for your large sheers, as you don't seem in the practice of cutting with any thing else." The keenness of the sarcasm excited the compassion of the company and a gentleman who sat next to him requested permission to officiate. It soon appeared, however, that politeness, and not ability, had dictated the request, and poor goosie had to change hands two or three times before the company could give a proper

86

However wonderful the incident of an author dining with his tailor may appear to the reader, yet, we can assure him, upon our honour, that the affair is really no bam; and, what may perhaps increase his surprise, the invite was given before the unprecedented run of our 33d number.

opinion as to her condition. From the appearance, manners and conversation of the company present on this occasion, we have no reason to believe that they were, as a body, worse carvers than nine-tenths of the parties that were met in town on the same evening. We are the more satisfied of this from having dined in what was considered a fashionable party a few evenings afterwards, when, having part of a turkey on our plate, we requested a gentleman of tip-top pretensions in point of exterior to all that might be considered ton, to help us to a slice of ham, but, will it believed, the Goth in disguise, in place of cutting a nice thin transparent waferish looking slice, actually sent us a piece thick and square as a Cheshire cake. Now, from all these circumstances, it appears a melancholy truth which can no longer be concealed, that the very necessary, useful and gentlemanly science, or art, call it which you will of gastronomical dissection, is at a very low ebb amongst us, and, in this age, when improvement in all the other arts and sciences is making such rapid strides, it is full time that we should look about and endeavour, at least, to make some approach to that perfection which has been attained by our neighbours. With this view we would propose, not a public subscription, gentle reader, for the public have calls upon it at present of a still more serious and imperative nature, but that those who are conscious of their own defects, should unite together and invite some gentlemen properly qualified to give instructions in the noble art of carving. And we conceive that a person of this kind, with every requisite qualification, might easily be found among some of the broken-down fraternity of the road, who, on account of the establishment being merely an experiment, might be inclined to listen to some such terms as the following:

That a class of not less than twelve students, or the average of twelve, should be kept up during the first year; that each student should pay one guinea for 12 lessons, including half a pint of wine each day; that every student should furnish the subject which he may wish to dissect, and that all students operating at the same board should mutually partake of such parts of their fellow student's subjects as might chance to hit their fancy. That all fragments, after class hours are over, should belong to the Professor, who might afterwards dispose of them to less scrupulous feeders at a moderate rate per head. That the cook of the academy should also be entitled to 5s. from each student whose superior dexterity enabled him to finish his studies with the number of lessons specified, and 7s. 6d. from those who remained a longer period. That, in order to make the professor as comfortable as possible, he should also be allowed to give public lec. tures twice a week. As there may, at first, be some difficulty in finding premises supplied with all the conveniencies requisite for such an establishment, we would suggest, that our friend Mr. Morgan be applied to on the subject, and we have no doubt but he will furnish, at least temporary accommodation for the carving department; while his spacious pavillion is most admirably adapted for all the purposes of a lecture-room. His admirable band might also be in attendance, and, during the pauses incident to lectures which require illustration by experiment, might be employed in playing "The roast beef of Old England," "Lumps of Pudding," "The Mutton Chop," "Pit a sheep's head in the pat," with other gastronomical tunes, which, we conceive, in these cholera times, when good feeding is so strongly recommended, would have a most attractive effect upon the public. As we have no doubt but the speculation would turn out not only useful to our citizens, but beneficial to any person of enterprise, we shall feel much pleasure in being. of service in forwarding the undertaking, by receiving the names of such as are inclined to become students, or taking charge of any offers from English commercial

gentlemen. or others, who may deem themselves qualified for the chair, and to whom the emoluments of the professorship may be an object.

LITERARY CRITICISM.

THE WESTERN JOURNAL. Donnan and Nelson, Ayr.-January, 1832.

LITERARY men are said to be so scarce in this part of Scotland, that a Western Journal cannot make its appearance, without its contents being attributed to some of the talented few who adorn our provincial Metropolis. Those disciples of the muses, especially, who have been in the habit of contributing to the Edinburgh literary journals, are sure to get the credit of nourishing, by their wit or fancy, the productions of their own neighbourhood. From this cause, no doubt, have proceeded the suspicions of our correspondent who was so kind as to send us a copy of the Western Journal, along with some animadversions of his own upon a part of its contents. It seems, that in a late number of this publication, of which we now hear for the first time, there appeared some strictures on the criticism on Mr. Atkinson's Duet, inserted in our paper of the 6th instant.* With great propriety the editor has sent us a copy of the Journal, and a shrewd friend has not only repeated the gift, but has, as we hinted, given us the advantage of his conjectures regarding the authorship of the remarks in question. We were considerably amused with the ingenuity of his communication, but we must say that we cannot agree with him in attributing the Review in the Western Journal, to the author and publisher of the Duet himself. Almost the only grounds on which this opinion is founded, is the very favourable manner in which the production is spoken of, and to us this is very insufficient proof to fasten a hostile imputation upon a valued friend. If, as our correspondent insinuates, it is the custom of the poet to write his own puffs in other papers, a subject upon which we profess entire ignorance, we freely and cheerfully absolve him from the charge of writing his own censures; and we readily acknowledge, from the specimen of the reviews which we find in that of The Chameleon, that this department, at least, is not furnished by the imaginative author of the volume so unmercifully chastised. We have read, in Colley Cibber's life, of such a thing as a poet's ridiculing himself under an anonymous disguise, but we are not inclined to believe that such a romantic plan will be again adopted. Besides, we have reason to think, that Mr. Atkinson will be completely satisfied with the indemnification he has already sought from the effects of our judgment, since, when he circulated a request among the editors of the Glasgow newspapers, that they would give his Duet a place in their columns, he evinced his conviction that it was sufficient to read his verses in order to admire them. We cannot, then, reproach ourselves with having caused the amiable poet any uneasiness; and while we remain convinced that his equanimity sets him beyond the influence of any censures of ours, we shall never hesitate to express our opinion confidently, whenever his productions do not appear to us worthy of literary canonization.

We have, perhaps, occupied too much space in repelling a charge which, we are convinced, is entirely frivolous and vexatious; but, in justice to the gentleman who is the subject of it, we cannot help again adverting briefly to the chief point of its foundation. If our correspondent had read the article in the Western

* We are strangely puzzled to understand how a monthly periodical could be so prophetic, as to quote, in its January number, the very words which were not printed in THE DAY, till the beginning of the present month. We suspect the Western Journalists are considerably behind in their calculation both of time and of tune.

Journal, with sufficient attention, he might have discovered that it is no apology for the poetry, but an apology for the music. The keen and irritated feelings with which it is written, certainly do seem to indicate, that the writer of it has a near interest in the subject; but beyond this we can discover no shadow of suspicion to point out the poet as that writer. On the contrary, the stanzas are condemned with a sneer, while the musical accompaniment is loaded with all the epithets of praise which egotism itself could suggest. We need not say that our opinion of its merits and suitableness are unaltered, and that the critic of the Western Journal has not condescended to observe the radical fault which we pointed out in our former notice.

To those who really understand the mysteries of counterpoint, the musical defects of the Duet are abundantly obvious, and we leave the worthy critic to glory, as too many now-a-days certainly do, in his obvious ignorance of one of the first principles of Calcot.

EDINBURGH PERIODICAL LITERATURE.

WE consider it no small proof of the estimation in which our labours are held by the discerning portion of our countrymen; that shortly after our paper made its appearance, in the shops and houses of Edinburgh, an impulse was given to the periodical literature of that boasted capital, which showed itself in the establishment of new journals. We lately noticed the first number of a deserving publication, started under the superintendence of Mr. James Chambers; and since that, our attention has been attracted by the appearance of another novelty, called the Edinburgh Spectator. We wish both of these meritorious undertakings every success, and we need not say, that, though they adopt the same line which we have been pursuing, we can admit of rivals, where our experience has shown us there is such an ample field for encouragement.

MONSIEUR FOUCART. From a Correspondent.

A DAY or two ago, I visited the Fencing Rooms of Mr. Foucart, in George Street, and I may say, with truth, that I never spent a more interesting hour. Let the lover of exercise or manly nccomplishments, only attend Mr. Foucart, and he will there, not only derive the greatest benefit to his constitution, but also receive the utmost pleasure from the exercise. Who is there, at all acquainted with the mysteries of the foil, or the art of the broadsword, that will not give the greatest credit and praise to Mr. Foucart, for the skill and attention which he shows to his pupils when instructing them: and where is the man on the right side of sixty, who will not feel his blood warmed, and his spirits excited, at the enlivening sight of the longe, the guard, or the attack? I myself, though now in the vale of years, was so strongly reminded of my youthful days, and so much on the qui vive, that willingly I would have seized on a foil again, and, with glove in hand and mask on head, perhaps have proved to some of the more youthful aspirants to the small sword, that I am no mean Tyro in the art. I must not forget to mention, the athletic and gymnastic exercises I saw performed, and which afforded me the highest satisfaction. I have only further to request, that you would recommend such of your young friends as have the time, and opportunity, to take advantage of both, by attending Mr. Foucart, and thereby, not only gain to themselves a useful and gentlemanly accomplishment, but also encourage the laudable and masterly efforts of the deserving and accomplished Professor.

[We need hardly say that M. Foucart's merits are known to us, and that we most cheerfully second the recommendation of our experienced friend.]

MISCELLANEA.

A MIRACLE. One of the principal performers of one of the Patent Theatres actually exhibited the other day, in a public room, a long tailor's bill, with a receipt attached to it! Upon which an old and sceptic member of the "sock and buskin," af

ter putting "spectacles on nose," and examining the documents closely, declared, very quaintly, "that it was a miracle!!"

ANCIENT MANNER OF KNIGHTING.--The custom among the Saxons was-first, he who should receive the order of knighthood confessed himself in the evening to a priest; then he continued all that night in the church, watching and applying himself to his private devotion; the next morning he heard mass and offered his sword upon the altar. After the Gospel was read, the sword was hallowed, and, with a benediction, put about his neck. Lastly, he communicated the mysteries of the blessed body of Christ; and from that time, remained a perfect knight. But this custom of consecrating knights the Normans abhorred.—Baker.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

LONGUEVILLE'S SONG TO HIS LADY LOVE

Awake, my love! Awake, awake; my bark is in the bay;
The sails are quivering to the breeze, that heralds in the day—
The war flag's drooping on its staff-the voice of life is still-
They wait the summons to depart-they only wait my will.

I came afar to visit thee, in thy lone sea-girt home;
Oh! if thou spurn'st me not away-with thee I'd cease to roam,
I'd fling the mail'd glove from my hand, the falchion from my
side,

If I might claim thee-lovely one-as an ocean monarch's bride. As the vulture darts upon his prey, from the mountain's rocky height,

Above th' oppressor's battlements of strength, I take my flight. And the gathered wealth, that fill the depths of their hidden chambers dark

Red gold and gems, the hoarder's gains, come forth to freight my bark.

Onwards from swarthy Afric's shore, to Zembla's icy zone: From east to west, from north to south, I trow, my name has flown :

From India's starry palaces, to England's foam-wrapt crag; Where'er the winds of heaven essayed to bear my battle-flag.

Earth's farthest bounds, the ocean's distant isles, have felt my wrath

The proudest monarchs tremble, if my galley cross their path. Blest is the strand, where my dark flag, has ne'er been seen to fly ;

For there the landsmen cross their breasts, as my proud ship sweeps by.

Nor old ancestral home, my love; nor household hearth are mine;

Where torches bright, and brighter eyes, from every lattice shine:
Where the voice of laughter ever rings, along the graven wall,
As the dancers wheel in airy groups, amid the ancient hall.
The music of the masquer's lute, no more may greet thine ear-
The songs, that now are wont to fall within thy home-bowers
here-

When the passion-chord's fierce eloquence-the lover's notes of fire

Nurst in the heart, upon the harp in melody expire.

The menial throng may never fill thine ear with flattery's din ; When the flushing lip is wreathed with smiles, though the soul is false within.

A rover's arm, to guard his own heart's queen, alone is meet : When he leaves the gun and boarding brand, to worship at her feet.

Thy home is safe amid the waves, when the rattling tempests

blow

A canopy of stars above, and drifting foam below.
Far other minstrelsy shall thrill, as our galley bounds along;
The wild blast and the halcyon's note shall weave our bridal
song.

Make room! make room, my comrades all-what ho! the signal gun:

Sweep the light oars, my merry men: hurrah! she's won!

she's won.

May the silken vest that wraps this breast, with my own heart's blood swell,

When the falchion, that my broad arm wields, forgets to guard thee well.

Answer to the Charade in our last. Ladies and beaus delight in hall, To study modes as fashions fly; But oh, I blush to name your next, A house for pigs-in truth a sty. United, Modesty's the name, The English fair shall ever claim.

GLASGOW GOSSIP.

WE are always happy to have an opportunity of shewing that our strictures upon men or measures are uninfluenced by any feeling of personal hostility or party grudge. It is, therefore, with pleasure that we notice the disinterested sacrifice made by the manager of the Royal Theatre, in closing his house at a time when contagion is apt to find its way into promiscuous assemblies. The public will, no doubt, properly appreciate this act, by reserving a bumper for the opening of the theatre. We wish Mr. Alexander would prepare for this event, by engaging some respectable performers. We should then have an opportunity of cancelling our severity, by affording him our warm and hearty support.

LONDON THEATRICALS.

From our London Correspondent.

You may remember that I alluded, in my last, to the report that Miss F. Kemble had obtained assistance in concluding her dramatic poem (for such it must be termed) called FRANCIS THE FIRST. This turns out, as I anticipated, to be without the slightest foundation.

It will be acted with her own termination, which, however, differs from the original copy, which included the battle of Pavia, and several other historical points. The cast of the principal parts will be as follows:-Francis I., Mr. Mason; De Bourbon, Mr. C. Kemble; Gonzales, Mr. Warde; Marot (the Poet), Mr. Abbot; Queen Mother, Miss F. Kemble; Julie de Foix, Miss E. Tree; Margaret de Valois, Miss Taylor.

Mr. Kenny's new farce called THE SELF TORMENTOR, OF WHIMS AND FANCIES, has been produced at Drury Lane with tolerable success. The chief object of the piece is to expose the whims and fancies of Mr. Crotchet (Mr. Farren), a gentleman who has a most excellent wife; a mother-in-law who loves him, if possible, as well as she loves physic; a lovely, dutiful, and affectionate daughter, who is betrothed to Edward Winstanley, whom he has never seen, though the son of an old acquaintance for whom he has the greatest regard; but by his unreasonable distrusts of them all, he contrives, without any other materials than his own humours, to make himself continually miserable, He determines that his daughter shall not marry Winstanley, whom he accuses of being a drunkard, a gamester, and a libertine, because he has drank rather freely at a jovial party, lost trifling sums at play with his friends, and kissed a pretty servant girl who brought him a letter from his mistress. For the purpose of more effectually satisfying himself of Winstanley's follies, he contrives to be introduced to him as Mr. Sharp, a money-lending attorney: a mutual friend having disclosed the plot to Winstanley, he is prepared for "the meeting, and by good contrivance and assistance, the sup. posed Mr. Sharp being invited to dine with Winstanley, is induced to drink as much as any of the young fellows he meets, to play deeper than Winstanley had ever done, and, finally, to kiss the same pretty girl. A disclosure of all parties then takes place -his own censures are retorted on him-he is laughed out of his whims and fancies, and he finally consents to make the lovers happy.

It is currently rumoured that Laporte is determined upon a new theatrical speculation; and, if he cannot become lessee of Covent Garden, he is resolved to do his best to open the Pantheon, or to build a new place of dramatic amusement. He has been heard to express his regret that he relinquished the King's Theatre. There are a number of Green Room on dits, but I must reserve them for my next epistle.

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

ON the 31st of March a new Monthly Periodical is announced, to be called "The Comic Magazine."

"The Feast of Kenilworth, and Poet Life," a tale from the German of Tieck, is in the press.

Mr. W. B. S. TAYLOR has nearly completed a translation of M. Merimee's work, entitled "A History of the Art of Painting in Oil, from the Earliest Period to the Present Time."

"Santarem, or, Sketches of Society and Manners in the Centre of Portugal," are preparing for publication.

ODDS AND ENDS.

A Loose TonGUE ! I know a lady that loves talking so inces santly, she won't give an echo fair-play: she has that everlasting rotation of tongue, that an echo must wait till she dies before it can catch her last words.- Congreve.

AN INDEX TO THE MIND.-As the index tells us the contents of stories, and directs to the particular chapter, even so does the outward and superficial order of garments, (in man or woman,) give us a taste of the spirit, and demonstratively point (as it were a manuel note from the margin,) all the internal quality of the soul; and there cannot be a more evident, palpable, gross manifestation, of poor, degenerate, dunghilly blood and breeding, than a rude, unpolished, disordered, and slovenly outside.—Massinger. FAITHFUL FRIENDS.-I know no friends more faithful, more inseperable, than hard-heartedness and pride, humility and love, lies and impudence.-Lavater.

ADVANTAGE OF TRAVELLING.-Usually speaking, the worst bred person in company, is a young traveller just returned from abroad.-Swift.

TO CHURCH SLEEPERS.-'Tis a shame, when the Church itself is a cemeterium, wherein the living sleep above the ground as the dead do beneath.-Fuller.

POWERFUL PERSUADERS.-The ladies are possessed of some springs of rhetoric which men want, such as tears, fainting fits, and the like, which I have seen employed upon occasion, with good success. -Spectator.

BOOKSELLER'S GALLANTRY.-A publisher reccommends Woman's Love, as very light reading."

TATAUING.-The New Zealanders tatau their faces in a very singular but elegant style. The operation is thus performed: the instrument being dipped in the Ngarahu, or black pigment (which, being kept in hard balls, has been previously moistened with water), is placed on the skin, and smartly struck with a piece of wood; the blood which flows is wiped away with a piece of muka or flax, so that it might not impede the view of the operator, and cause him to form the lines or figures irregularly. After the operation the parts swell; and if the tatauing has been in the vicinity of the eye, the integuments around become so much tumefied as to impede vision for the space of nearly four days, and the tataued part festers: on account of the great irritation attendant on this operation, a small portion of the figures can only be done at one time. The custom of ornamenting, by puncturing the skin and inserting a colouring matter, is widely diffused over the globe; it is found existing at most of the Polynesian Islands; among some of the South American tribes, &c. a difference of the manner in which the tataued figures are formed, is found existing among them. The New Zealanders tatau the face in circular or curved lines; the figures over the face of the Marquesian were more varied; at Tongatabu and the Island of Rotuma, the face is not tataued, but the arms, legs, and thighs, and also the abdomen, are tataued in straight, angular, and waved lines; but at Tahite the figures formed over the body in stars, trees, &c. surpassed all productions of the art I had seen at other islands of the Polynesian Archipelago; the females at most of the islands are tataued, but in a very slight degree.-Bennett's M.S. Journal.

MORAL POETS OF GREAT BRITAIN.-No. III.

JEREMY TAYLOR, D.D.

THE "Festival Hymns" of Jeremy Taylor have procured for him a name amongst the Moral Poets of England. For piety, eloquence and learning, their author was, indeed, unrivalled; but, his fame must repose, upon other laurels than those that will be awarded him for his poetical compositions.

As every particular regarding one of the most highly gifted sons of the English Church must be read with interest, we shall at once commence our sketch of this distinguished clergyman.

Jeremy Taylor was born in the year 1613, in Trinity Parish, Cambridge, and baptized upon the 15th of August. His early education seems principally to have been acquired under the parental roof; for Taylor himself states that he was solely grounded in grammar and mathematics by his father. When thirteen years old, he entered Caius's College as a Sizar, or poor scholar. It seems doubtful whether his career at college was distinguished by that brilliancy which characterized his more advanced life. It certainly does not appear that he attained either emolument or distinction, indicative of an appreciation of his talents. The period of his obscurity, however, was soon at an end, and his merits, ere long, gained for him the patronage of one who had the penetration and ability to value them.

Taylor became Master of Arts in 1633, and some time afterwards, a friend of his, who was a lecturer in St. Paul's Cathedral, having requested him to supply his place for a short time, Taylor had thus an opportunity of displaying the extraordinary powers of eloquence and argument which he possessed. A theological lecturer, only twenty-three years of age, very soon attained numerous friends and admirers. He was spoken of, in high terms, to the Bishop of Canterbury, who sent for the young divine, heard him preach, commended his performance, and only objected to his youth. Taylor begged his Grace to pardon that fault, and promised that if he lived he would amend it.

After this introduction, he resumed his studies for some years, and, on the 23d March, 1637, he was presented with the rectory of Uppingham, in Rutlandshire. About this time he became the companion of a learned Franciscan friar, which entailed upon him a suspicion of a secret tendency to the Romish communion. The friar was a man of extraordinary abilities, and possessed qualifications which might well gain the attachment of Taylor, without, in the slightest degree, affording plausibility to an accusation which Taylor's works so completely disprove. That such a suspicion had obtained, however, appears evident from the fact, asserted by Wood, that Taylor having been appointed to preach the anniversary sermon on the gunpowder treason, the then Vice-Chancellor of the University insisted on his inserting so many things of offence to the Roman Catholics, that his friendship was afterwards rejected by them with scorn, notwithstanding his expressions of regret and penitence for the language he had been constrained to utter.

Taylor married in May, 1639, being then in the twenty-sixth year of his age. By his first marriage he had three sons, of whom William died in 1642, and was soon afterwards followed to the grave by his mother, who only survived her infant a few months.

In the great struggle that took place at this period, Taylor boldly defended episcopacy and monarchy. He was one of the first to join the King at Oxford, where, soon after, he published, by his Majesty's special command, his treatise of " Episcopacy Asserted." The same year he was elevated to the degree of doctor in divinity, but his opponents had more power to hurt the King, than he had to reward-about this time the rectory of Uppingham was sequestered. Poverty now ensued. During the following years of Taylor's life, it does not appear that he received any part of the pittance, which the clergymen appointed to livings by the Parliamentary commissioners, were enjoined to pay to their expelled predecessors.

We now find the subject of our memoir in Wales, attached to a portion of the army, and mentioned as a conspicuous prisoner, after the victory gained by the Parliamentary troops over Colonel Charles Gerard, on the 4th of July, 1644. Love and war are sometimes united. Taylor now met with the lady who afterwards became his second wife, and on whose property he intended to reside. In a letter written at this period he states, "that, in the great storm which dashed the property of the church all in pieces, he had been cast on the coast of Wales, and in a little boat thought to have enjoyed that rest and quietness in a far quarter, which, in England, he could not hope for."

From this time, till 1652, our author was engaged in theological compositions, although he suffered bitterly from the turbulence of the times, and he was also severely visited by domestic calamity. "I know you will either excuse, or acquit, or, at least, pardon me,” says he, "that I have so long seemingly neglected to make a return to your so kind and friendly letter, when I tell you I have passed through a great cloud, that hath wetted me deeper than the skin. It bath pleased God to send the small-pox and fever among my children, and I have, since I received your last, buried two sweet hopeful boys, and have now but one. sonne left."

At the beginning of 1658, we find Taylor a prisoner in the Tower of London, where he was confined in consequence of his bookseller having affixed to one of his works, a picture of Christ in the attitude of prayer. After some time, an application for his release was successful.

Taylor at length found a retreat, where, at a distance from the din of commotion, he could pursue his studies and cultivate his fine powers. He left London for Ireland, and resided principally at Lisburn, where an appointment, which extended also to Portmore, had been conferred upon him. Here he had a weekly lectureship, and, occasionally, preached to a small congregation of loyalists.

On the return of King Charles, Taylor was appointed to the Bishopric of Down and Connor, and he was shortly after elected, by Ormond's recommendation, Vice-Chancellor of the University of Dublin. Honours and preferments now awaited him, he was made a Member of the Irish Privy Council, and in addition to his former diocese, was entrusted with the small adjacent one of Dromore, "on account," in the words of the writ under the privy seal, "of his wisdom, virtue, and industry.”