The writer hereof has caught many a trout and perch off the banks opposite
to the island, and has passed many a contemplative hour on the events of
former ages, which have rendered the spot particularly interesting.

_Gray's Walk, Lambeth._

L.

*** If the writer is not mistaken, _Magna Charta Island_ is an appurtenant
to the manor of Wyrardisbury, and adjoins an estate called _Ankerwicke_,
upon the grounds of which are the remains of an ancient monastery, or
priory.

* * * *

THE WATER KING'S BRIDE.

FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER.

(_For the Mirror_.)

Light o'er the water the sun's ray glanc'd,
While the youths and maidens of Tubingen danc'd.
A stranger youth of noble mien,
Proffered his hand to the village queen.
"Youth, say why is thine hand so white?
The water knows not the daybeams light;
Youth, oh why is so cold thine arm,
Can it in Neckar's flood be warm?"
He led her away from the lime-tree's shade;
"Return my daughter," her mother said.
He led her on to the stream so clear,
"Oh youth let me go, for I tremble with fear."
He danc'd till they reach'd the Neckar's bank,
One shriek, one plunge, in the wave they sank.
"Farewell, farewell, to thee, Tubingen's pride,
Maiden, thou art the Water King's Bride."

H.

* * * * *

WOMAN.

(_For the Mirror_.)

The following curious compliment to the fair sex is extracted from an old
play, entitled "Cupid's Whirligig:"--

"Who would abuse your sex that knows it? O Woman! were we not born of
you?--should we not then honour you? Nursed by you, and not regard you?
Made for you, and not seek you! And since we were made before you, should
we not live and admire you as the last and most perfect work of Nature?
_Man was made when Nature was but an apprentice_; but _Woman when she was
a skilful mistress of her art_. By your love we live in double breath,
even in our offspring after death. Are not all vices masculine, and
virtues feminine? Are not the muses the loves of the learned? Do not all
noble spirits follow the graces because they are women? There is but one
phoenix, and she is a female. Was not the princess and foundress of good
arts, Minerva, born of the brain of highest Jove, a woman? Has not woman
the face of love, the tongue of persuasion, and the body of delight? O
divine, perfectioned woman! If to be of thy sex is so excellent, what is
it then to be a woman