On this plan many large trees were moved at Blenheim and elsewhere in this country. Cotemporary with Evelyn was Lord Fitzharding, a nobleman who seems to have adopted a far more natural and scientific method than any of his predecessors in the art. His plan was to sever the principal roots at some distance from the tree; to remove the earth, and by inclining the tree gently on one side to get at the tap root which was also severed: the tree was then restored as nearly as possible to its former position, and allowed to remain during one, two, or three years, until a fresh growth of roots and fibres allowed it to be removed with advantage. Another method was to lay bare the roots, and to cut through all except four principal ones on the four opposite sides of the tree so as to support it, then to allow the tree to stand a year or two, and finally to remove it with as much of the clod as possible. Sir H. Steuart admits that this sensible plan originally suggested to him the basis of his own method. About sixty years after the time of Evelyn, Brown appeared as professor of landscape gardening: he improved the means before used for transplanting fullgrown trees. His "transplanting machine" consisted of two very high wheels, an axle, and a pole; and when the trees were struck a truck wheel was used at the end of the pole: when the tree was loose the pole was set erect and lashed to the stem; and a purchase being made fast to the upper part of the pole, the whole was pulled at once and drawn horizontally along. But this plan was liable to the same cbjections as those of his predecessors, namely, that the top was pretty severely lopped or lightened, and sometimes quite pollarded; the roots were also cut round to the depth of the fibres, and only two or three feet out from the trunk; this defacement of the tree seems to have been regarded as necessary by all planters down to the time of Steuart. It is scarcely necessary to trace this history further. Subsequent planters adopted the method, more or less varied, of Lord Fitzharding, but all the plans included the mutilation of the tree, a practice which the celebrated gardener Miller was the first to blame. He observes truly that "were planters fully aware of the doctrine of the circulation of the sap, and the curious anatomy of plants, they would perceive that a tree is as much nourished by its branches as by its roots." After remarking that planters are in too great haste to anticipate the slow but certain effects of time, he gives three grounds of objection to the removal of full-grown trees. 1st. That lopping and cutting off the tops or side boughs at the period of removal is utterly ruinous to trees. 2nd. That if trees be removed with large heads, it is next to impossible to maintain them against the violence of the wind in an upright position. 3rd. That trees when transplanted are short-lived, five or six years being the average duration: that in one case oaks were found to thrive beyond all expectation, but they died at the end of fifty years; whereas according to the characteristic properties of this tree they should have been increasing in vigour. In another article we will endeavour in a brief outline to show how Sir Henry Steuart obviated these objections. QUEEN ELEANOR'S CROSSES. IV. We noticed in our last article the melancholy death of the youthful Queen of Scotland, and the disastrous consequences which were likely to accrue to that country, from the calamitous event. Edward I. knew that his immediate presence would be required in Scotland; and he accordingly set out on his way thither, unaccompanied, as heretofore, by his faithful Eleanora; but bidding her follow him with all convenient speed. This affectionate woman needed not the injunction of her lord, to hasten the preparations for her departure. Very soon was she on her way to join him, and to share, as she supposed, in the dangers of his Scottish expedition. But Providence had decreed otherwise. In travelling through Lincolnshire she was seized with a dangerous autumnal fever at Herdeby, near Grantham, which arrested her progress, and threatened speedy dissolution. Edward had not reached the Scottish borders when this fatal news was brought to him. The crown of Scotland, highly as it was prized by this ambitious monarch, was as nothing compared with Eleanora, the faithful and beloved companion of his life. Accordingly we find him turning his back on the land to which he had been so eagerly hastening, and retracing his steps with the utmost speed attained by travellers of that age. But, alas! he was too late to see her alive. This lovely and admirable queen had expired November 29th, at the house of a gentleman named Weston, in about the year forty-seventh of her age. The grief of Edward was so acute as to banish for a time every other consideration. The affairs of Scotland were unthought of; and until he had followed the corpse of his beloved queen to her grave at Westminster, he would not attend to the slightest temporal concern. The mournful procession occupied thirteen days in the progress from Grantham to London. During this journey, the royal bier rested at intervals, surrounded by its attendants, in some central part of the town at which it had arrived, until the ecclesiastics of the neighbourhood had assembled in solemn procession to place it before the high altar of the principal church. There were about fifteen of these resting places, and at every one of these, Edward commanded a cross to be erected in memory of his chère reine (dear queen,) as he always called the faithful Eleanora. Fifteen splendid monuments of his affection were therefore raised on the spots which formed the stages of his journey, and of these there are three still in existence, i. e., the Queen's Cross, near Northampton, the Cross at Geddington, Northamptonshire, and the Queen's Cross, at Waltham, in Hertfordshire. The description of these will enable the reader to judge of the beauty and elegance of the rest, which were, doubtless, of very similar character. cording to Gough, the crosses were erected at Herdeby, Lincoln, Newark, Leicester, Geddington, Northampton, Stony Stratford, Dunstable, St. Albans, Waltham, Cheapside, and Charing by Westminster. The following extract from Stukely will show, however, that other names are to be added in the list of these stages. Ac Grantham and Stamford were stages. Mr. Howgrave says there was a Queen's Cross at Stamford; and the like is affirmed of Grantham, and that it stood in the open place in the London road; and I saw a stone carved with foliage work, and said to be part of it, and I believe it, seeming of that sort of work. If so, then Newark and Leicester must be left out, and they travelled with the queen's corpse by way of Oundle to Geddington from Stamford. I suppose the present London road from Stamford being unpassable, or not having at that time royal seats, manors, or abbeys, by the way sufficient to entertain the cavalcade. Mr. Peck, in his Stamford Annals, asserts Grantham and Stamford to be two of the stages, and where crosses were erected. No doubt that at Grantham stood in the open London road, before my neighbour Hacket's house, called Peterchurch Hill; and the people have some memory of it. Camden, who, doubtless, had seen them, inserts Grantham and Stamford. Woburn has also been named as one of the stages. As the royal mourner with the funeral procession approached London, the principal citizens, with their magistrates, clad in black hoods and cloaks, came several miles on the north road to join them. Thus accompanied, the hearse containing the royal corpse moved on towards Westminster Abbey, where, after previously resting at the spot now occupied by the statue of Charles I, it was finally deposited near the beautiful tomb of Henry III. The disconsolate king performed whatever was deemed essential by the Romish priesthood for the safety of the soul of his beloved consort; and nothing which either their suggestions or his own affection dictated, was deemed too costly an honour to be paid to her memory, The Abbey of Westminster was richly endowed with gifts for the celebration of dirges and masses; and wax tapers were kept burning day and night around her tomb, even to the period of the Reformation. The skill of the celebrated Pietro Cavallini was employed to raise that tomb, a monument worthy of the artist's fame. Hemingford mentions that the king every Wednesday for a whole year gave a penny a-piece to all the poor that came for it; and at the end of the year settled a certain revenue on the Abbey at Westminster to celebrate her anniversary, and distribute the like dole thereon. On the tomb in Westminster Abbey is a beautiful figure of the queen, of copper gilt, on a tablet of the same, The left hand, laid lightly on the breast, holds the collar; while the right falls gracefully on the drapery, and perhaps held the sceptre. The head is adorned with a coronet of fleur-de-lis and trefoils, under which the hair falls in ringlets. The drapery consists of a close tunic and mantle, the latter spreading from the shoulders, meeting again about the knees and covering the feet. Under the head are two cushions, enamelled with lions and castles, and at the feet two lions, one of which has been almost covered by the building of Henry the Fifth's Chapel. Over the head is a canopy niche of the same metal, the corner part of which has been torn away, as appears by two holes remaining in the table. The tomb is of Sussex marble, charged with the arms of England, Castile and Leon quarterly, and Ponthieu, each twice repeated, hanging from oak leaves in demiquatrefoil arches, whose pediments and finials are lightly frosted and terminated with foliage. The same style of ornament appears to the shields on the tomb, as on Waltham Cross. On the edge of the copper table, on which the figure reposes, and which is enamelled with lions, and the arms of England and Castile in lozenges, is the inscription in capitals of the time. Over all is a wooden canopy, the ceiling of which is divided into fourteen compartments. The neck of the statue was originally adorned with precious stones. Pennant speaks of the remaining cusps, where a carcanet or necklace had been fixed, but it had been wrenched off and stolen. The inscription at the edge of the tomb is simply this:-"Here lies Alianor, wife to King Edward, formerly Queen of England, on whose soul God for pity have grace. Amen." Before the Reformation some Latin verses hung on a tablet near the tomb, which were thus translated by some ancient rhymster: Queen Eleanor is here interred, A royal virtuous dame, Sister unto the Spanish king, Of ancient blood and fame; King Edward's wife,-first of that name, Whose father, Henry, just the third, Was sure an English wight. He craved her wife unto his son, The prince himself did go On that embassage luckily, Himself with many moe. THE CROSS AT WALTHAM, Waltham Cross, previous to the late restoration by Mr. Clarke, was more dilapidated than either of the others; but being more enriched in its architecture, it furnished a reason for Mr. Britton's opinion that these crosses, as raised in the vicinity of London, were more tastefully executed than those remote from court. Waltham Cross is situate in the parish of Cheshunt, at the head of the road which leads from the high north road to the town of Waltham. This cross was doubtless as insulated at the time of its erection, as that near Northampton; but the resort of travellers having rendered houses of entertainment necessary, it has now been so built about as to endanger its safety. To the timely interposition of the Society of Antiquaries we are indebted for the preservation of this most interesting structure. In 1720 they caused posts to be erected to protect it from injury by carriages; for as it stands in what is now a narrow street in a great thoroughfare, and at the very turning of the road, it was peculiarly exposed to danger. We may therefore rather feel grateful to the learned body that any portion of the edifice remains, than wonder at the mutilated and shattered condition in which it recently stood. In 1757 we find Dr. Stukely, Secretary to the Society of Antiquaries, acquainting Lord Monson, lord of the manor of Cheshunt, that the posts before mentioned had been removed by the commissioners of turnpikes, and praying his Lordship, in the name of the Society, to build brick-work round the stone-work at the base, and to set up posts. The Doctor lamented the encroachments of the adjoining houses upon the cross, and observed that a roof actually leaned against one of the beautiful statues of the queen. The brick-work and the posts were set up according to the request of the Society, and Lord Monson was presented with an engraving of the cross in token of their gratitude. The description of Waltham Cross, given by the Society, is as follows: This cross is hexagonal, each side of the lower story divided into two compartments, charged with the arms of England, Castile and Leon, and Ponthieu, in shields pendant each from different foliage. Over these compartments is a quatrefoil, and over that, in the point of the whole, a trefoil. The pediment of each compartment is richly frosted with leaves. The spandrils of each pediment are carved with eight-leaved finials divided by two niches. The cornice over the first flowers in lozenges, and the panels are parted by purfled story is composed of various foliage and lion's heads surmounted by a battlement pierced with quatrefoils. The second story is formed of twelve open tabernacles in pairs, but so divided, that the dividing pillar intersects the middle of the statue behind it as in the other two crosses. These tabernacles terminate in ornamented pediments with a bouquet on the top, and the pillars that supported them are also purfled in two stories. This story also finishes with a cornice and battlement like the first, and supports a third story of solid masonry, ornamented with single compartments in relief, somewhat resembling those below, and supporting the broken shaft of a plain cross. The statues of the queen are in an attitude similar to the others, crowned, her left hand holding a cordon, and her right a sceptre or globe. Notwithstanding these preventive measures of the Society of Antiquaries this beautiful structure was falling fast to decay, until the attention of the neighbouring gentry being called to the circumstance, a subscription was entered into for the purpose of repairing and restoring the monument. The design and direction of the work were entrusted to Mr. W. B. Clarke, assisted by a committee of subscribers. Our illustration represents the cross as it appeared some time previous to these repairs, SANTA CROCE. BY EDWARD EVERETT, AMERICAN MINISTER AT THE COURT OF LONDON, Nor chiefly for thy storied towers and halls, Rather to Santa Croce I repair, To breathe her peaceful monumental air: The stern old tribunes of the early time, The merchant lords of Freedom's stormy prime ;- I feel their awful presence; lo, thy bust, Next in an urn, not void, though cold as thine, Michael Angelo, when he contemplated the statue of St. Mark, by Donatello, at Orsanmichele, used to say, Marco, perche, non mi parli? See Saturday Magazine, Vol. XIII., pp. 138, 177. + Galileo, toward the close of his life, was imprisoned at Arcetri, near Florence, by order of the Inquisition. See Saturday Magazine, Vol. XXI., pp. 9, 88. Dost thou, whose keen perception pierced the cause Nor them alone: on her maternal breast But thine own" Prince ;"-that dark spot ne'er shall fade. Above thy grave to play the censor's part. I read the statesman's fortune in thy doom,-— Here too, at length, the indomitable will Yes, reapeth all, or else had spared the bloom Hosts yet unnamed, -the obscure, the known,-I have; * The monument o Machiavelli in Santa Croce was erected in the latter half of the last century:-the inscription, Tanto homini nullum par elogium. + Ici repose Charlotte Napoleon Bonaparte, digne de son nom, 1839 The words are translated "worthy his name," for an obvious reason. RUSSIAN FORESTS. INTO this we daily penetrate on our sledges, drawn by three horses abreast, at full speed, surging through the snow like a boat breaking through the waves, and casting up a sparkling spray, as though we moved through an atmosphere of diamonds. The opening of the forest is like the charnel-house of nature; every tree rattles like a bleached skeletonmoaning, hollow, gaunt, and menacing-till we lose the apparition by bursting our way amidst towering firs, whose shafts swell into columns of snow, and flit in thousands of marble pillars before our watery eyes, which give, perhaps, an illusive medium to reality. The underwood, feathered like swan's down on the wiry branches, trembles under the weight of snow tufts, like bunches of the Gueldres rose; so that, in this instance, winter outvies the garland of the brightest summer. Nor is the gilding of the setting sun less magic in its effect, when an horizontal beam, striking upon the snow, seems to awaken all the treasures of Golconda, and the ground blazes in sapphires, emeralds, amethysts, opals, and brilliants. The solitude of the forest is seldom interrupted in our course, except by wood-cutters, looking like satyrs rather than human beings, whose endless beards clogged in snow and lengthened by icicles, crackle in responsive measure to their hatchet strokes. however, of the ladies of the castle suspends all labour; and till the traineau is out of sight, a circle of those shaggy satyrs, clothed in the skins of beasts, with fur night-caps in their paws, assemble to show their devotion and reverence by bowing repeatedly their bear heads to the ground.Memoirs of the Princess Daschkaw. The appearance, SPARE MINUTES. RESOLVED MEDITATIONS AND PREMEDITATED RESOLUTIONS. WHEN I view the heavens declaring the glory of God, and i the firmament shewing his handy work, and consider that each little numbered star, even of the sixth magnitude, containeth the earth's dimension eighteen times in bigness by astronomers' conclusions, I easily descend to consider the great difference of earthly men's glory, and that weight of glory afforded the saints in Heaven. For what a poor ambition is it to be the best man in a city! What's a city to a shire? what a shire to the whole island? what this island to the continent of Europe? what Europe to the whole earth? what that earth to a star? what that star to heaven? and that to the Heaven of Heavens? And so by a retrogradation how little, how nothing is this poor glory! I find many which say, hoc nihil est aliquid, I find in myself cause to say, hoc aliquid nihil est. If I needs will be somebody by my ambition, I will be ambitious to be ranged with the saints in Heaven, rather than ranked with the kings on earth: since "the least in the kingdom of Heaven is greater than they." I SAW Once a falcon let fly at a heron, and observed with what clamour the heron entertained the sight and approach of the hawk, and with what winding shifts he strove to get above her, labouring even by bemuting his enemy's feathers to make her flag-winged, and so escape: but when at last they must needs come to a necessitated encounter, resuming courage out of necessity, he turned face against her, and striking the hawk through the gorge with his bill, fell down dead together with his dead enemy. This fight seemed to me the event of a great suit in law, where one trusting to his cause's potency, more than his cause's equity, endeavours to disinherit his stubborn neighbour by colourable titles to his land. Here may you hear the clamorous obloquies of the wronged, and see the many turnings and winding meanders in the law sought out to get above his adversary and lastly, when the issue must come to trial, oftentimes in the grapple they both sink to beggary by the law, whilst lawfully they seek to get above each other. Hence warned against potent enemies I will always pray, Lord, make me not a prey unto their teeth;" and against an equal or inferior I will not borrow the law's extreme right to do him extreme wrong; nor fall to law with anybody till I fall by law to be nobody. I will not do that to have my will, which will undo myself of what I have by my wilfulness. THE Psalmist doth not slander the slanderers, when in a good description of their bad natures, he saith, "Their throat is an open sepulchre, the poison of asps is under their lips.” For what more loathsome stench and noisome smells can a new-opened sepulchre belch out, than these venomous, open-throated slanderers? and well may their lips contain the poison of asps, of which Lucan saith, in nulla plus est serpente veneni, when a few words of theirs shall (like a witch's spell) charm and strike dead a man's dearest reputathat virtue, that, as an antidote of Mithridates his best contion. I will therefore endeavour to make my actions of fection, they may repel the worst infection those serpents shall spit at me. And albeit I cannot be free from their assaults (from which none is freed) yet I will not, with Cleopatra, set those asps so near my heart that they may stop my vital spirits with their poison. And since I must I will carefully fear and shun the worst of tame beasts, the pass through this Africa of monsters and harmful beasts, flatterer, and wild beasts, the slanderer. MEDITATION is a busy search in the storehouse of phantasy for some ideas of matters, to be cast in the moulds of resolution into some forms of words or actions; in which search, when I have used my greatest diligence, I find this is the conclusion, that to meditate on the best is the best of meditations: and a resolution to make a good end, is a good end of my resolutions. [ARTHUR WARWICK, 1637.] COLD IN PARIS. Ir summer in Paris is bad for man and beast, winter is even less bearable; at least the cold, which set in one winter I was there, was such as I never remember to have seen in England, Scotland, or anywhere else. It was not a good, honest, bracing moderate degree of cold, which you could temper out of doors by smart exercise, or subdue within by means of blazing fires. It seemed to defy every such device; being hard and dry, and so biting, merciless, and snarly, that there was no possibility of escaping its searching intensity. It subdued all mankind alike-natives and strangers, and at times entirely cleared the streets of people; leaving the capital like one of those mysteriously deserted cities in Hindostan described by travellers in the East, which, with all their palaces and temples complete, have been left for ages without a single inhabitant in them! I walked once, the day after Christmas, from end to end of Paris, and literally met only a stray gendarme or two. How the wretched coachmen manage to live at all in such weather as I have seen in Paris, is to me inconceivable; for even to the inside passengers the cold becomes at times so severe that with all the contrivances they can think of-warm duced them:-thus we have the Muzio Gambit, the Salvio Gambit, the Allgaier Gambit, the Cochrane Gambit, the Evans' Gambit, &c. Other varieties obtain their names from one of the early moves of the first player: thus we have the Bishop's Gambit so called because the first player moves out his King's Bishop before his King's Knight. The term Gambit Pawn is applied sometimes to the pawn you sacrifice on the second move, but more commonly to the pawn of your adversary which captures your pawn: thus in the King's Gambit the opening moves are In this case his K. P. is transferred to his K. B. file, and becomes the Gambit Pawn. In the Queen's Gambit the opening moves are 1. Q. P. two squares. 2. Q. B. P. two squares. furs, hot-water bottles, great-coats, boat-cloaks, and shawls, In which case his Q. P. is transferred to his Q. B. file, they can scarcely go from one house to another without being frozen to death; a fate which actually befel two poor sentries, and an unfortunate donkey, one bitter night of the winter alluded to. The soldiers were found at the hour of their relief, as it is called, with their muskets shouldered, standing as stiff and erect at their post as the palace-gate, as when their corporal had planted them. The honest donkey was found standing across the path in the Boulevards at daybreak, with his tail straight on end, as rigid as a bar! In his death the poor old fellow retained his wonted look of patience and contentment so completely, that the people, thinking him still alive, drubbed him soundly as they passed for being in the way. To return to the no less passive coachmen. One can understand how an English jarvey manages by reiterated pots of porter, and perhaps a glass or two of gin, to keep the cold out of his stomach; but how the French drivers contrive, without malt liquor or strong waters, to sit on their boxes at night for two, three, four, or five hours on a stretch, apparently as insensible to the biting frost as if they were made of granite and not of flesh and of blood, is utterly inconceivable. Still less is it comprehensible how their horses can stand for so many hours together, with iron shoes, on the cold ice and stones of those sadly-mismanaged streets. -CAPTAIN HALL'S Patchwork. EASY LESSONS IN CHESS. THE KING'S GAMBIT. We are now about to introduce the young student to a favourite and brilliant style of play, altogether different from the specimens given in the previous lessons. The King's Gambit offers greater variety than is to be found in the other openings, and therefore requires greater knowledge and practice to conduct it with success: hence, an experienced player when he gives the odds of the Queen's Rook or Queen's Knight to an inferior antagonist, often prefers this mode of play. The word Gambit is derived from an Italian phrase used in wrestling, and signifies a peculiar movement by which the adversary is tripped up. In Chess the "peculiar movement" is, for the first player, early in the game, to sacrifice a pawn for the sake of gaining an attack. There are many ways in which this pawn may be sacrificed, and consequently there are many varieties of Gambit; but the King's Gambit includes the greatest part of them. In this gambit the first player moves K. P. two squares, and on the second move K. B. P. two squares, which is sacrificed. There is also the Queen's Gambit, which derives its name from the Q. P. being first moved two squares, and the Q. B. P. being sacrificed on the second move. The varieties of the King's Gambit are often known by the names of the players who invented, or first intro and becomes the Gambit Pawn. say Authorities are divided in opinion as to the safety of this method of opening the game. Some contend that the loss of a pawn on the second move ought to entail upon the first player the loss of the game; others that the attack acquired by the sacrifice of the pawn compensates for its loss; besides, the second player in gaining the pawn must double a valuable pawn, and thus resign the centre of the board to his adversary: disadvantages which take something from the value of the pawn thus gained. Perhaps the most general opinion is, that the gambit when properly defended is unsound. In such a case the the common openings at chess, if the moves of both first player may hope to draw the game. Indeed, in all parties be strictly correct, the result ought to be a drawn game. This, however, is a height of perfection which will probably never be attained, and therefore the sacrifice of a pawn may be hazarded on account of the many favourable sources of attack thereby opened to the first player; while the position of the second player is frequently one of considerable restraint and embarrass ment. The following remarks on the King's Gambit by Ponziani will be read with interest by the amateur, and also by the young student, when he has fairly entered upon the brilliant and ingenious strokes of gambit play : The quality of this opening demonstrates that the inventor, whoever he might be, considered principally that the removal of the adverse King's Pawn from the fourth square, caused a good order of the game, because there he is of greatest importance; and especially prevents the King's and Queen's Pawns being posted equally at the fourth squares. To attack the said adverse King's Pawn, he found the King's Bishop's Pawn most convenient; since this often serves only to prevent or retard the attacks which might be made with the King's Rook placed in the Bishop's square; and therefore he judged it good play, at the second move, to push the said Bishop's Pawn to its extent, putting it en prise of the adverse King's Pawn, with the confidence either of recovering it, or of becoming compensated in another shape with a superior situation. As, then, the adversary, after having taken the said Bishop's pawn, threatens a pernicious check with the Queen at the first player's King's Rook's fourth; thus, he who plays the gambit ought, for his best, at the third move, to play out the King's Knight to the Bishop's third; whence succeeds a most animated conflict, full of dangers and vicissitudes, which, at every move, change the aspect of the battle, and promote a thousand artful stratagems on the one part, to preserve the pawn in advantage; and, on the other, to recover it with a better position. Although Philidor declares the King's Gambit to be an indifferent game, which by its nature produces neither profit nor injury, yet Stamma and Salvio, with the best academicians of Italy, and recently the most accurate Anonymous |