It appears that the Family Library, as well as the Cabinet Cyclopaedia, is to have its own History of England; since the 21st “Family” volume is the first of such a History, and comprises the Anglo-Saxon period, from the pen of that distinguished antiquarian scholar, Francis Palgrave, Esq. F.R.S. &c. The portion before us, as our readers may imagine, is extremely interesting: it is well studded or sprinkled with origins and antiquities popularly illustrated, and has little or none of the dryness of an antiquarian pen. We quote two such passages, and especially direct the attention of the reader to our third extract, relative to the early influence of Christianity:—
Stonehenge.
The temples in which the Britons worshipped their Deities, were composed of large, rough stones, disposed in circles; for they had not sufficient skill to execute any finished edifices. Some of these circles are yet existing; such is Stonehenge, near Salisbury: the huge masses of rock may still be seen there, grey with age; and the structure is yet sufficiently perfect to enable us to understand how the whole pile was anciently arranged. Stonehenge possesses a stern and savage magnificence. The masses of which it is composed are so large, that the structure seems to have been raised by more than human power. Hence, Choir-gaur[11] was fabled to have been built by giants, or otherwise constructed by magic art. All around you in the plain, you will see mounds of earth or “tumuli,” beneath which the Britons buried their dead. Antiquaries have sometimes opened these mounds, and there they have discovered vases, containing the ashes and the bones of the primeval Britons, together with their swords and hatchets, and arrow-heads of flint or of bronze, and beads of glass and amber; for the Britons probably believed, that the dead yet delighted in those things which had pleased them when they were alive, and that the disembodied spirit retained the inclinations and affections of mortality.
[11] The “Giant’s Dance”—the British name of Stonehenge.
London in the Seventeenth Century.
London was quite unlike the great metropolis which we now inhabit. Its extent was confined to what is now termed “the city,” then surrounded by a wall, built, as it is supposed, about the age of Constantine, and of which a few fragments are existing. All around was open country. Towards the north-east a deep marsh,—the name is yet preserved in Moorfields,—extended to the foot of the Roman ramparts. On the western side of the city, and at the distance of nearly two miles, the branches of a small river which fell into the Thames formed an island, so overgrown with thickets and brushwood, that the Saxons called it “Thorney,” or the “Isle of Thorns.” The river surrounding Thorney crept sullenly along the plashy soil; and the spot was so wild and desolate, that it is described as a fearful and terrible place, which