way necessarily becomes more difficult, where Satan, multiplying his transformations, appears at the head of so many crooked paths as an angel of light, recommending them in preference to that wherein we desire to go but, not wholly ignorant of his devices, we refer to the inspired chart, and humbly, yet firmly resolve that in the strength of our God we will" go forward." December, 1838. THE CHRISTIAN LADY'S MAGAZINE. JULY, 1838. BY-GONE DAYS. A LONG, interesting, and at this season appropriate train of recollections, was awakened the other day by an incident, in itself exceedingly common, and which at any other time might have passed unnoticed, beyond a pleasing momentary impression. A fine little boy, not yet promoted to the dignity of jacket and trowsers, came bustling up, his round face expressing much energetic good-will, while a dimpled hand extended to me the always welcome gift of some freshly-gathered flowers. They were accepted, and admired to the heart's content of the dear little fellow, who, after receiving due thanks, bounded away on some new expedition, while I, still holding the bouquet, proceeded to my own little garden, there to meditate among my fragrant stores. This garden is merely a narrow slip of ground, with a light railing added to the low pales on either side, JULY, 1838. B for the sake of greater privacy, the gravel-walk being laid out in a serpentine form, to lengthen the short promenade. It requires no great stretch of imagination to fancy this enclosed ground the limit of a prisoner's daily walk; but it certainly was by a bold flight of that unruly faculty that my humble abode was transformed into the Tower of London, and my insignificant self into a captive princess. The flowers in my hand, coupled with the recollection of their pretty donor, and the solitary little spot into which I had locked myself, and was pacing up and down, had recalled an event of the olden time which I never could think of without emotion. It is related by John Foxe, at the end of his venerable folio, with much feeling, and in his peculiar style. He is recording the perils and afflictions through which the princess Elizabeth reached, in God's time, the throne of these realms: at that period she was a prisoner in the Tower, detained by the jealous apprehensions of her guilty, and therefore cowardly and suspicious, sister. I must give the passage in the very words that first brought it home to my heart. 'There was liberty granted to her Grace to walk in a little garden, the doors and gates being shut up, which notwithstanding was as much discomfort unto her as the walk in the garden was pleasant and acceptable. At which times of her walking there the prisoners on that side strictly were commanded not to speak, or look out at the windows into the garden, till her Grace were gone out again; having in consideration thereof their keepers waiting upon them for that time. Thus her Grace, with this small liberty, contented herself in God; to whom be praise therefore. During this time there used a little boy, a man's child in the Tower, to resort to their chambers, and many time to bring her Grace flowers; which likewise he did to the other prisoners that were there. Whereupon naughty and suspicious heads, thinking to make and wring out some matter thereof, called on a time the child unto them, promising him figs and apples, and asked of him when he had been with the Earl of Devonshire; not ignorant of the child's wonted frequenting unto him. The boy answered that he would go by and by thither. Further they demanded of him when he was with the Lady Elizabeth's Grace. He answered, every day. Furthermore, they examined him what the Lord of Devonshire sent by him to her Grace. The child said, 'I will go know what he will give to carry to her.' Such was the discretion of the child, being yet but four years of age. This same boy is a crafty boy,' quoth the Lord Chamberlain: how say you, my Lord Chandois !' 'I pray you, my Lord,' quoth the boy, give me the figs you promised me.' marry,' quoth he; thou shalt be whipped if thou come any more to the Lady Elizabeth, or the Lord Courtney.' The boy answered, I will bring my lady my mistress more flowers.' Whereupon the boy's father was commanded to permit the boy no more to come up into their chambers. 'No, 'The next day, as her Grace was walking in the garden, the child, peeping in at a hole in the door, cried unto her, saying, Mistress, I can bring you no more flowers.' Whereat she smiled, and said nothing, understanding thereby what they had done. Wherefore afterwards the Chamberlain rebuked highly his father, commanding him to put him out |