of the island, though its minuteness and his fiery red waistcoat, is striding causes it to be frequently overlooked. along the narrow path to his parish It has a small white blossom, and a red-church. His good old dame, in her dish capsule, containing numerous seeds. red cloak, is behind him carrying her The elm (Ulmus campestris) belongs prayer book wrapped up in a blue to the second order of this class, and cotton handkerchief with white spots. is a very common tree, particularly in On goes Roger over the stile, while the dry, light soils. It ripens seeds in frozen snow crackles under his feet, May; but these are so apt to be crossed never waiting to assist his aged partner. by varieties of the same tree that they Time was when things were different, rarely continue to their parent stock. but he loves her none the less. Though According to Evelyn, the common elm his outward attentions have declined, will produce a load of timber in about we will not suppose his inward affections forty years; but in favourable situations to be diminished. it does not cease growing at this age, but will live from a hundred to a hundred and fifty years. Young trees, in the climate of London, will attain the height of twenty-five feet or more in ten years. The Wych elm, (U. montana,) though it forms a fine large spreading tree has not so tall a trunk as the former. It is more common than the former in Scotland and Ireland, and is frequently called the Scotch elm.

The common holly (Ilex aquifolium) ranks in the third order, the flowers forming four stamens and four pistils. It is an evergreen native tree, growing from five to twenty feet high. The blossom is white, the calyx with four or five teeth, very small; the corolla wheel shaped, with four divisions, and the berry scarlet or yellow, with four one-seeded pips. It is a tree of very slow growth, and of long duration. The wood is close grained and the bark smooth, the inner bark abounding in a glutinous mucilage from which birdlime is made, by pounding it in a mortar to a pulp, and then washing out the fibres in a stream of water. It blossoms in May, and the berries ripen in autumn, and last through the winter.

The ancient Romans sent holly branches to their friends with their new year's gifts, as emblematical of good wishes, a custom said to be nearly as ancient as the building of Rome itself. It is probably from this that the custom originated of decorating churches with holly at Christmas.

The bare mention of the red-berried, glossy-leaved holly brings before us a cheerful though wintry scene. There stands the tree on the brow of the hill braving the northern blast. The fields are white with snow, the distant bell is heard, and old Roger Blake clad in his Sunday blue coat with big buttons,

Some trees, like the holly, in the economy of vegetation, preserve their leaves constantly throughout the year, and are not in the least influenced by the clemency or inclemency of the seasons. Such evergreen trees preserve their old leaves a long time after the formation of the new. Linneus, in his "Lapland Tour," observes that the pine retains its leaves for three years; and in this country, at least, the cherry laurel (Prunus lauro ceratus) retains its leaves for above sixteen months.

There are numerous varieties of the holly, consisting chiefly of variegated, white, and yellow on the leaves which do not, as is usual in variegations, appear to be unhealthy. Wrench, who planted the elm trees in St. James's Park, in the reign of Charles II., was one of the most zealous collectors of these varieties of the holly. At the present time, the most extensive collection is in the arboretum of Messrs. Loddiges at Hackney, there being from forty to fifty sorts, from six to ten feet high. R.

THE PERAMBULATOR.
THE TOWER OF LONDON.

I AM standing for a moment at the entrance of the Tower, before I pass over the bridge, looking at the broad moat that surrounds the place, and regarding the huge superannuated pile that never smiled, and that now frowns as darkly as ever. Famous as a fortress, a palace, and a prison, it cannot be regarded without interest. Time has been when such a scene would have called up all the romance and chivalric feelings of my youthful days. The pageantry of olden times, with armed knights and courtly dames, the joust, the tournament, the banquet, the midnight revel, and the festive dance, would have flitted before me: but years

that bleach the hair sober the heart; my | and cruelty, which have at times resided pulse is tranquil now. there, are watchful, if not fearful. Four gates have I passed, and the warders and armed sentinels have let me pass without a challenge; but in olden times the drawbridge to the Tower was always raised, and the huge, unwieldy gates always closed.

Traitor's Gate looks gloomy; but if so to me, what to the many who have passed under that low-browed arch, with almost the certainty that they would never again return! There is a loneliness, a disconsolateness in the dash of the water, as the tide rolls in, that makes one melancholy. A sluice beneath Traitor's Gate supplies the broad, deep moat with water from the river.

As the goodly apparel, the towering plume, the prancing war-horse, the flaunting banner, and the blast of the trumpet, close the eye and the ear to the iniquities of war, so the proud palaces and embattled tower hide from us, in a double sense, the evil deeds that have been done within them. As I stand thus, noting down my passing thoughts, shadowy reflections are stealing over my mind. The White Tower there, had it a tongue, could tell me a fearful tale! How often has Bell Tower rung out its alarms, in seasons of turbulence and strife. Beauchamp's Tower is infamous for deeds of oppression and cruelty, and Devilin's Tower, near the corner, is not And this is Wakefield Tower, or the unstained with blood. There is a taint Bloody Tower! Whether Richard III., in the moral atmosphere of the place. called Crookback, really did cause to be On the hill yonder stood the scaffold, murdered in this tower the children, whence many a head, severed by the Edward v. and the duke of York, will hand of the executioner, rolled to the perhaps only be revealed, when the seground; but more of these things by-crets of all hearts will be made known. and-by. Were human crimes made visible, and did they occupy a space equal to their enormity, what a mountainous mass of depravity and sin would overwhelm the shadowy pile that now stands before me! When we think on the multiplied transgressions of mankind, well may we exclaim, Lord, "What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him ?" Psa. viii. 4.

The Tower, we read, was founded by William the Conqueror; carried on by his son Rufus; repaired by Thomas à Becket; enlarged by Longchamp, bishop of Ely; and finished by Henry III. Edward iv., Richard III., and Henry VIII., made some additions and repairs. The first governor of this fortress, in the time of William the Conqueror, was Geoffry de Mandeville, who laid out much money on the building, and the present governor is Arthur, duke of Wellington.

There is a misshapen irregularity, a strange mingling of ancient and modern times; an anomalous jumbling together of things wont to be kept separate, about the Tower, that takes away the impression which a castle or fortress usually makes on the mind. It is a confused heap of towers of stone, brick, and cement, houses, bastions, batteries, and turrets, walls, sentinels, chimney-pots, and vanes:-but I will enter the place.

The Tower was not always so easy of access; for power is jealous, and oppression

Either he has been sadly maligned, or a sore catalogue of evil deeds has been truly laid to his charge.

What a noble gateway is here! The groined arches that vault the portal, the grotesque heads, and finely carved tracery that springs from them, are exquisitely beautiful. Here is a portcullis, too, with its spikes of iron, and the massy gates have enormous hinges; one of them is broken. There have evidently been two hinges at the bottom of the gates, but they are gone, though the pins on which they turned are remaining still.

The platform and the row of lofty trees to the left, offer some attractions to those who have time to promenade. I have mounted the stone steps, gazed on the shipping in the river, walked in part round the Tower, passed by the Devil's Battery, the Stone Battery, and the Wooden Battery, and am now returned to the White Tower, so called, because Henry III. ordered it to be whitened. It is the original and principal tower in the fortress.

Where now stands the ordnance-office once stood the old palace, the dwellingplace of kings, with its spacious halls and extended galleries, its noble courts and goodly gardens. Not a vestige of these remains; but the antiquarian visitor draws upon his memory, and revels in the knowledge he has acquired from the dusty records of departed days.

What glorious gifts are memory and

I have passed through the Ordnance office, and have just left the curiouslycarved portal of the Record office. This latter office is a place of great importance: "Rolls from the time of king John to the beginning of the reign of Richard III., are kept here in numerous wainscot presses. These rolls and records contain the ancient tenures of land in England; the original laws and statutes; the right of England to dominion over the British seas; leagues and treaties with foreign princes; the achievements of England in foreign wars; ancient grants of our kings to their subjects; the forms of submission of the Scottish kings; writs and proceedings of the Court of Common Law and Equity; the settlement of Ireland, as to laws and dominion; privileges and immunities granted to all cities and cor

imagination! By these I once more build up the princely pile, long since dissolved, and people it with the Edwards, and Henries, and Richards of old. There is the painted hall, and in it are assembled a goodly throng of joyous guests. The royal captive, John, is feasting with the third Edward, and all his court. But this pageant has melted into air; and Henry of Lancaster occupies its place, having received a kingly diadem from the second Richard. Thus are the puppets of power moved backwards and forwards. Thus time, advancing with a smile or frown, One raises up, and pulls another down. A further change, and now the painted hall is thronged with other characters: Catherine of Arragon, "beautiful and goodly to behold," Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves, Catharine Howard, and Catherine Parr, in quick succes-porations during the periods above mension, hold their interviews with the eighth Henry before their espousals to him. What a lesson for ambition to ponder! Two of Henry's wives were divorced, and two brought to the scaffold by the royal sensualist. Sunshine, and pomp, and smiles, began the dream of joy of the latter; but Tower Hill and the block, and the murderous axe, were at its close. The old palace and the painted hall are gone: the councils are dissolved, the banquets are broken up, the revels are ended, and the guests departed. There stands the modern ordnance-office, and here am I, musing on the unsubstantial past!

In my perambulations I have fallen in with many of the warders, in their round flat-crowned caps and bands of partycoloured ribbons; their fine scarlet cloth coats, with large sleeves and full-gathered skirts, seamed with gold lace, and their broad laced girdles. Bearing the royal badge under their breasts, they accompany the visitors through the different armouries. There are forty of these men in the Tower, all habited like the royal yeomen of the guard; and besides them there are many other officers, among which are a gentleman gaoler"

and four gunners.

66

The effects of successive reductions in the price of admission, from 3s. to 1s., and from the latter sum to 6d., is worthy

of remark.

tioned, with many important records, and curious and valuable documents, together with the first edition of the Common Prayer-book, as settled upon at the restoration of Charles II., and that very ancient work called Doomsdaybook."

Let me now enter the Horse Armoury. Ay! this is a goodly sight in the eyes of a warrior; for here the walls are hung

Resplendently, with arms and armour bright,
Habergeon hard, and ponderous battle-axe,
Hauberk, and helm, and cuirass, lance, and
sword.

Armour has, at different periods, been
formed of different materials, leather,
and padded linen, iron, steel, brass, sil-
ver, and gold. The hauberk, or shirt of
mail, was formed of rings, placed edge-
ways, or of flat rings, sewn on the ves-
ture, or of small metal plates, covering
each other like the scales of a fish. Over
body armour surcoats were once worn, to
prevent the sun from heating it. Gam-
buised armour was made of stitched
padded work; leathern vests were worn
by archers; mail and plate armour were
mingled together, before plate-armour
became general. Plate armour was not
only plain but also fluted, black, bronzed,
and engraved, as well as inlaid and em-
bossed. Armour was at times so expen-
sive that it was said of sir Walter Ra-
leigh, that when habited in his silver
suit of armour, "he had a Spanish gal-
leon on his back." When men dwell
together in the fear of God, and in mu-
tual affection, how little is armour re-
quired!

These mail-clad warriors make us