gloriedst in wealthy temples, in the riches of great cities, in the mastery of the world, now look upon the misery and ignorance of barbarian hordes, see around the ruins and shapeless heaps of earth. Where was thy noble palace, now passes the rude plough, now waves the yellow corn!

And my shame was clear in mine own eyes; I was sad, for my pride was fallen. Why need I tell more, the tale is grievous to me; I was borne down beside my own ancient river, amidst strange voices and shouts " Layard !—Layard" they seemed to cry. I saw my country desolate, my dwelling a prey to strangers, I was tossed many days on the heaving waters. Now I stand in a strange land, the wonder of earth's younger children. They say I am far from my violated home, in a city prouder, greater, more glorious than my native realm; but boast not, ye vainglorious creatures of an hour. I have outlived many mighty kingdoms, perchance I may be destined to survive one

more.

IN

A Witch in the Kursery.

N one of those moods of philosophical pleasantry and erudite whimsicality in which the worthy Archbishop of Dublin sometimes relaxes from weighty affairs, he is reported to have made the following quotation and com

"Old Father Long-legs wouldn't
say his prayers:
Take him by the right leg―
Take him by the left leg-
Take him fast by both legs-
And throw him down stairs!"

"There!" said his Grace, "in that nursery verse you may see an epitome of the history of all religious persecution. Father Long-legs, refusing to say the prayers that were dictated and ordered by his little tyrants, is regarded as a heretic, and suffers martyrdom."

The cruel and unprincipled things sung or said to young children in so many of our popular nursery rhymes and tales, the wanton, reckless acts, no less than abominable reasons adduced for them, or consequences drawn from them, are something quite surprising. It looks as if the great majority of those compositions had been the work of one or more of the wickedest of old witches ever heard of, and with

a direct intention of perverting, if not destroying, the generosity, innocence, pure imagination, and tender feelings of childhood at as early a stage as possible. We say it looks like this; and yet, no doubt, nothing of the sort was intended; neither were these nursery poets and tale-writers influenced by any bad or unkindly feelings. The songs have probably orginated chiefly with certain old grandames among our ancestors, whose ears possessed a tolerably euphonious muse of doggerel versification, but whose heads were not overburdened with understanding, and whose sole object (such a thing as "infant education" never at this time having been dreamed of by ang soul in the community) was to quiet or amuse the child, by arresting and holding its attention. To do this most suddenly and successfully, they endeavoured to produce an excitement of the child's imagination, or its desires, without for one instant considering whether the seeds they sowed of these excitements and desires, were of a kind to grow and put forth good or evil fruits with the progress of years. There are, no doubt, a good many delightful and harmless nursery songs and tales, and a few also which have the best moral tendency; but it must be ad. mitted that the majority are either very equivocal, or of the worst possible kind.

Take the song of "Little Jack Horner"-does it not inculcate selfishness, or greediness? or, at best, it causes those vices to be regarded with leniency and levity:

"Little Jack Horner

Sat in a corner
Eating a Christmas pie!

He put in his thumb,

And he pull'd out a plum,

And cried, 'What a good boy am I!'"

It may be said that the view he takes of his own goodness (or bravery) in this exploit, is only meant to be humorous, and in a way that children understand; and we have also heard it suggested that Master Horner had, perhaps, really been a good boy, and that this pie, so renowned for its "plum," was the reward of merit. Admitting all this as possible, the fact of his sly and selfish greediness in getting up into a corner to enjoy his pie alone, is not to be controverted.

The act of stealing something seems to be one of the favourite points of humour and good fun with our Nursery Witch.

"Taffy was a Welshman-Taffy was a thief:

Taffy came to my house, and stole a leg of beef."

The following is nothing less than the footpad's "your money or your life," adapted to the nursery. A boy with a broom sings,

"Money I want, and money I crave!

If you don't give me money,

I'll sweep you to the grave !"

This is graced with an illustration in Halliwell's "Nur sery Rhymes of England."

In the following well-known song, theft is made a very pleasant joke, and inculcated by the example of the first gentleman and lady in England :—

"When good King Arthur ruled this land,

He was a goodly King;

He STOLE two pecks of barley-meal,
To make a bag-pudding.

"A bag-pudding the King did make,
And stuff'd it well with plums,
And in it put some lumps of fat
As big as my two thumbs.

"The King and Queen did eat thereof,

And Nobles ate beside;

And what they could not eat that night,
The Queen next morning fried."

These songs are, beyond question, highly amusing to children. They admit of capital illustrations. In the example just quoted, the "goodly" King is represented, of course, in his state robes, and with the crown upon his head, running away, as fast as he can lay legs to the ground, with a couple of meal-bags, one under each arm. In the next illustration, His Majesty is represented with his cooking apron and sleeves, and without his coat, though still with his crown on, "as he appeared" while engaged in the operation of making the bag pudding. The third illustration represents the Queen, who is the receiver of the stolen goods, together with the Nobles, who all come to share the spoil, seated at table," making a feast." In the concluding tableau, Her Gracious Majesty, with her crown on, is represented holding the handle of the frying-pan, being sedulously employed in frying slices. Not a word in apology or explana