very large and noble one. Compared with the girth of two or three near it, it is seen now to disadvantage, but it should be recollected that these other trees are pollards, and the very circumstance of trees having been deprived of their leading branches, through a succession of years, which has not been the case with Herne's Oak, always increases the size of their trunks. I can again only express my hope, that the arguments I have made use of will not be unacceptable to the admirers of Shakspeare. Even if I could be proved to be wrong, I do not see what object would be gained by the endeavours to destroy the interest, which would otherwise be attached to this last relic of our immortal bard. I may appear obstinate, or too persevering in my wish to rescue it from oblivion and neglect, but as long as I feel that I have the best of the argument, I will maintain my ground. In order that the tree may now be readily recognized by strangers, I have had the following quotation affixed to it: There is an old tale goes, that Herne the hunter, Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest, Doth all the winter time, at still midnight, Walk round about this oak. I am assured that since this inscription has been put on the tree, some females, who were in the habit of passing between Windsor and Datchet, through the Park at night, have been alarmed with the fear of meeting "Herne the hunter." If this be so, it curiously shows the unexpected fact, that superstition holds the same sway in this neighbourhood that it did, when Shakspeare made Mrs. Page (and she is speaking two centuries before his time) say, there want not many that do fear, In deep of night to walk by this Herne's Oak. D Doth she not sooth us, sick; enrich us, poor, CRABBE. I HAVE always much pleasure in watching the unwearying and indefatigable exertions of swallows, wag-tails, and other insectivorous birds, in providing food for their young. Were it not for the affection parents feel for their offspring, the present sources of happiness, as regards the human as well as the animal species, would be annihilated. In order to keep alive this feeling, two most powerful motives have been implanted in females. I mean those of love and pity. No sooner is the feeble and plaintive cry of distress of their young heard by the parent, than these two incentives are immediately called into action. Pity prompts the female to afford the necessary relief, and love renders the task, however arduous, a pleasurable one. I never think of this interesting fact, without admiring that law of nature, or rather of a beneficent Creator, who has thus provided for the wants of the young in their most helpless state, and thrown the shield of affection over them. What perseverance, anxiety and courage are shewn by the parent in providing for, and defending her young, and at the same time what an absence of all selfishness! When they are in danger, the most fearful female becomes the bravest. Affection then appears in its strongest light. We may see a feeble bird, a timid quadruped, a little insect, sacrifice even life itself in defence of its young. Let us view a mother watching over a sick and helpless child which requires all her care and attention. How delightfully has Providence smoothed the path of the parent in this case. Instead of anxiety, fatigue and constant watching and attention becoming insupportable or irksome, we find that affection overcomes every difficulty, and that parental care is bestowed with cheerfulness and pleasure. It is pleasant to reflect on the perfection of the female character—to indulge in the remembrance of having seen women perform those offices of affection and love, which they alone are capable of shewing. If we refer to the Bible, how delightfully are their best attributes there portrayed, and how conspicuous are they for the warmest and kindliest feelings. It was a woman who watched over her little brother when he was hidden in the bull-rushes.-It was a woman who urged her father to perform his vow, although - her own life might be the sacrifice. It was a woman who so beautifully said, "all was well," when she came to implore the prophet to restore her dead and only son.-It was a woman who followed her mother-in-law in all her distress and poverty. It was a woman who offered her last mite in charity.-It was a woman who washed our blessed Saviour's feet with her tears, and afterwards wiped them with the hair of her head. It was a woman who said, "Lord, if thou had'st been here, my brother had not died.”—It was a woman who stood at the foot of the cross.-It was a woman who went first to the sepulchre.— It was to a woman our Lord first made himself known after his resurrection; and, it was not a woman who betrayed our Lord and master. Charming, however, as the female character may be, it possesses another quality which has not yet been referred to. I allude to that extraordinary tenderness and affection, which a mother generally shews to a deformed, diseased, or idiotic child. That this feeling has been implanted in her by a merciful Creator for a benevolent purpose cannot, I think, be doubted, nor can I imagine any being more wretched than one, in any of the conditions I have mentioned, deserted by its mother, and deprived of her tenderness and care. Even some animals shew the same affection under |