G. I peseech you heartily scurvy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my Detitions, to eat, look you, this leek.

P. Not for Cadwallader, and all his goats.

F. There is one goat for you. (strikes him.) Will you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it?

P. Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

F. I desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals; come there is sauce for it.-(strikes him.) If you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

By beating and taunt, Fluellen forces Pistol to eat the leek, and on its being wholly swallowed, Fluellen exhorts him "when you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at them, that Is all!" Having thus accomplished his purpose, Fluellen leaves Pistol to digestion, and the consolation of Gower, who calls him "counterfeit cowardly knave: will you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an honourable aspect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour, and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words?"

Here we have Gower speaking of the custom of the Welch wearing leeks as an ancient tradition," and as "a memorable trophy of predeceased valour." Thoroughly versed in the history of the few reigns preceding the period wherein he lived, it is not likely that Shakspeare would make a character in the time of Henry V. refer to an occurrence under the black prince, little more than half a century before the battle of Agincourt, as an affair of “ancient tradition." Its origin may be fairly referred to a very early period.

A contributor to a periodical work rejects the notion, that wearing leeks on St. David's day originated at the battle between the Welch and the Saxons in the sixth century; and thinks it more probable that lecks were a druidic symbol employed in honour of the British Ceudven or Ceres. In which hypothesis, he thinks, there is nothing strained or far-fetched, presuming that the Druids were a branch of the Phoenician priesthood. Both were addicted to oak worship; and during the funereal rites of Adonis at Byblos, leeks and onions were exhibited in "pots with other vegetables, and called the gardens of that deity." The leek was worshipped at Ascalon, (whence the modern term of Scallions,) as it was in Egypt. Leeks and

"Gazette of Fashion," March 9, 1822.

onions were also deposited in the sacred chests of the mysteries both of Isis and Ceres, the Ceudven of the Druids; weeks are among the Egyptian hieroglyphics; sometimes a leek is on the head of Osiris ; and at other times grasped in an extended hand; and thence, perhaps, the Italian proverb, "Porro che nasce nella mano,' a leek that grows in the hand, for a virtue. Porrus, a leek, is derived by Bryant from the Egyptian god Pi-orus, who is the same as the Beal Peor of the Phoenicians, and the Bel or Bellinis of the Druids These accordances are worth an ancient Briton's consideration.

Ridicule of national peculiaritics was formerly a pleasantry that the English freely indulged in. They seemed to think that different soil was good ground for a laugh at a person, and that it justified coarse and insolent remarks. In an old satirical tract there is the following sneer at the Welch:

"A WELCHMAN, Is the Oyster that the Pearl is in, for a man may be pickt out of him. He hath the abilities of the mind in potentiâ, and actu nothing but boldnesse. His Clothes are in fashion before his Bodie; and he accounts boldnesse the chiefest vertue. Above all men he loves a Herrald, and speakes pedigrees naturally. He accompts none well descended that call him not Cosen, and prefers Owen Glendower before any of the nine worthies. The first note of his familiaritie is the confession of his valour; and so he prevents quarrels. Hee voucheth Welch a pure, an unconquered language; and courts Ladies with the storie of their Chronicle. To conclude, he is pretious in his own conceit, and upon St. David's day without parison.”*

com

Not quite so flouting is a poetical satire called,

The Welchman's Song in praise of Wales I's come not here to tauke of Prut, From whence the Welse dos take hur root; Nor tell long pedegree of Prince Camber, Whose linage would fill full a chamber; Nor sing the deeds of ould Saint Davic, The Ursip of which would fill a navie, But hark you me now, for a liddell tales Sall make a great deal to the creddit of Wales,

"A wife, now the widdow of sir Thomas Overburye, being a most exquisite and singular poem of the choice of a wife, whereunto are added many witty characters," &c. London, printed for Lawrence Lisle, 4to. 1614.

the cost of sixpence, what people of these latter days by "the ingenious chemists' art," can make as effectual as St. Chad's virtues," at the small price of one halfpenny."

If any one desire to visit this spot of ancient renown, let him descend from Holborn-bars to the very bottom of Graysinr.-lane. On the left-hand side formerly stood a considerable hill, whereon were wont to climb and browze certain mountain goats of the metropolis, in common language called swine; the hill was the largest heap of cinder-dust in the neighbourhood of London. It was formed by the annual accumulation of some thousands of cart loads, since exported to Russia for making bricks to rebuild Moscow, after the conflagration of that capital on the entrance of Napoleon. Opposite to this unsightly site, and on the righthand side of the road is an angle-wise 'aded inscription:

ST

CHAD'S WELL.

an

It stands, or rather dejects, over elderly pair of wooden gates, one whereof opens on a scene which the unaccustomed eye may take for the pleasureground of Giant Despair. Trees stand as if made not to vegetate, clipped hedges seem willing to decline, and nameless weeds straggle weakly upon unlimited borders. If you look upwards you perceive painted on an octagon board "Health Restored and Preserved." Further on towards the left, stands a low, old-fashioned, comfortable-looking, large windowed dwelling; and ten to one, but there also stands, at the open door, an ancient ailing female, in a black bonnet, a clean coloured cotton gown, and a check apron; her silver hair only in part tucked beneath the narrow border of a frilled cap, with a sedate and patient, yet, somewhat inquiring look. This is "the Lady of the Well." She gratuitously informs you, that "the gardens" of "St. Chad's well" are "for circulation" by paying for the water, of which you drink as much, or as little, or nothing, as you please, at one guinea per year, 98. 6d. quarterly, 4s. 6d. monthly, or

may

1s. 6d. weekly. You qualify for a single visit by paying sixpence, and a large glass tumbler full of warm water is handed to you. As a stranger, you are told that St. Chad's well was famous at one time. Should you be inquisitive, the dame will instruct you, with an earnest eye, that "people are not what they were," "things are not as they used to be," and she "can't tell what'll happen next." Oracles have not ceased. While drinking St. Chad's water you observe an immense copper into which it is poured, wherein it is heated to due efficacy, and from whence it is drawn by a cock, into the glasses. You also remark, hanging on the wall, a "tribute of gratitude" versified, and inscribed on vellum, beneath a pane of glass stained by the hand of time and let into a black frame: this is an effusion for value received from St Chad's invaluable water. But, above all, there is a full-sized portrait in oil, of a stout, comely personage, with a ruddy countenance, in a coat or cloak, supposed scarlet, a laced cravat falling down the breast, and a small red night cap carelessly placed on the head, conveying the idea that it was painted for the likeness of some opulent butcher who flourished in the reign of queen Anne. Ask the dame about it, and she refers you to "Rhone." This is a tall old man, who would be taller if he were not bent by years. "I am ninety-four," he will tell you, "this present year of our Lord, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five." All that he has to communicate concerning the portrait is, "I have heard say it is the portrait of St. Chad." Should you venture to differ, he adds, "this is the opinion of most people who come here."* You may gather that it is his own undoubted belief. On pacing the garden alleys, and peeping at the places of retirement, you imagine the whole may have been improved and beautified for the last time by some countryman of William III., who came over and died in the same year with that king, and whose works here, in wood and box, have been following him piecemeal ever since.

St. Chad's well is scarcely known in the neighbourhood, save by its sign-board of invitation and forbidding externals An old American loyalist, who has lived in Pentonville ever since "the rebellion" forced him to the mother country, enters to "totter not unseen" between the stunted hedgerows; it was the first "place

of pleasure" he came to after his arrival, and he goes no where besides,-" every thing else is so altered." For the same reason, a tall, spare, thin-faced man, with dull grey eyes and underhung chin, from the neighbourhood of Bethnal-green, walks hither for his " Sunday morning's exercise," to untruss a theological point with a law clerk, who also attends the "when he was place because his father, prentice to Mr. the great law stationer in Chancery-lane in 1776, and sat writing for sixteen hours a day, received great benefit from the waters, which he came to drink fasting, once a week." Such persons from local attachment, and a few male and female atrabilarians, who without a powerful motive would never breathe the pure morning air, resort to this spot for their health. St. Chad's well is haunted, not frequented. A few years and it will be with its water as with the water of St. Pancras' well, which is enclosed in the garden of a private house, near old St.Pancras' churchyard.

Holy Wells.

The holy wells of London have all declined in reputation, even to St. Bride's well, whose fame gave the name of Bridewell to an adjoining hospital and prison, and at last, attached the name to every house of correction throughout the kingdom. The last public use of the water of St. Bride's well drained it so much, that the inhabitants of St. Bride's parish could not get their usual supply. This exhaustion was effected by a sudden demand. Several men were engaged in filling thousands of bottles, a day or two before the 19th of July 1821, on which day his majesty, king George IV. was crowned at Westminster; and Mr. Walker of the hotel, No. 10, Bridge-street, Blackfriars, purveyor of water to the coronation, obtained it, by the only means through which the sainted fluid is now attainable, from the cast-iron pump over St. Bride's well, in Bride-lane.

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Dwarf Cerastium. Cerastium pumilum. Dedicated to St. Chad

arose

On the 3d of March, 1792, died Robert Adam, Esq. He was born at Kirkaldy, in Fifeshire, in 1728, educated at the university of Edinburgh, devoted himself to architecture, went to Italy to study its ancient remains, became proficient in his profession, and rose to its highest honours: he was appointed architect to their majesties, and chosen fellow of the Royal and Antiquarian Societies of London and Edinburgh. In conjunction with his brother, Mr. James Adam, who died 20th November 1794, he built some of the finest of our modern mansions. His genius and acquirements adorned London with several structures, eminently superior in beauty to those which around him under the direction of other hands; but the work for which the Adams are chiefly celebrated, is the elegant range of buildings called the Adelphi. This Greek word, denoting the relationship of brothers, was conferred in compliment to the brothers, by whose intellect and science, in opposition to long vitiated taste, and difficulties deemed impracticable, these edifices were elevated. It is related that soon after their completion, a classically educated gentleman being present at a public dinner, and intending to toast the Messrs. Adams, who were also present, begged to give "the Adelphi ;” and that this occasioned a worthy citizen to exclaim "Bless me! it's a very odd toast; what