THE cities and corporate bodies, when moving in procession, have, for the most part, both sword and mace bearers; who wear liveries, and on their heads a cap, called a cap of maintenance.

The mace was originally a military weapon, which was of essential utility to the warrior of the olden times, from its applicability to break down or crush the armour of his adversary. And Ellis, in his "Fablieux," says: "It was a common weapon with ecclesiastics in the feudal period, who, in consequence of their tenures, were often obliged to take the field, but were, by a canon of the church, forbidden to wield the sword." It is since become a symbol of power and authority. The American people, who are subject only to republican simplicity, may feel surprise at this, but Bishop Atterbury observes, "Marks of honour are appropriate to the magistrate, that he might be invited to reverence himself."

"In former days, those of rank considered it a degradation to have menials to officiate about their persons, and therefore created officers in their household, which were looked upon as initiatory schools to everything gallant or polite, and were consequently eagerly filled by noble youths and aspiring cadets. The lord mayor of London had a similar establishment. He had four squires; first, the sword-bearer, whose duty it was to advise his lordship of the necessary etiquette on state occasions. There are four swords, the black is used on Good Friday, 30th of January, the fire of London, and all fast days, when his lordship ought to go to St. Paul's. The common sword, to go to the sessions, courts of aldermen, common council, &c.; the Sunday sword, and the pearl sword, which used to be carried on very rare occasions, but is now exhibited at every turn.

The second squire was Mr. Common Hunt, he attended the hounds and the Epping hunt, but he was likewise master of the ceremonies. His place of residence used to be at the Doghouse bar, in the city road.

The third squire is Mr. Common Crier, whose duty is to attend his lordship, with the mace, to the courts of aldermen, common council, common halls, and courts of hustings.

The fourth squire is the water bailiff, who is empowered by the lord mayor to act as sub-conservator of the Rivers Thames and Medway. These officers have all splendid gowns.

He also used to have four attornies to attend in turn weekly, to give advice to his lordship in his magisterial capacity; but this is now performed by one.

There also properly belong to his lordship's household three sergeant carvers, three sergeants of the chamber, one sergeant of the channel, one yeoman of the chamber, two marshals, four yeomen of the water-side, one yeoman of the channel, one under-water bailiff, and six young men. These had splendid liveries, divided as if by a herald, one side distinguishing the lord mayor's livery, the other those of the sheriffs.

Plough Sunday, his lordship goes to church to qualify; on Monday, his lordship keeps wassail with his household, and with his lady presides at the head of the table. This used to be a gala day; but elegance now takes place of profusion and hilarity formerly they could scarcely see their opposite friends, for the piles of sweetmeats; but these have disappeared to make way for the city plate, and artificial flowers. The lady mayoress is generally accompanied by two or three ladies, to obviate the unpleasantness of finding herself the only female among so many strangers; the chaplain on that day takes the lower end of the table. The yeoman of the cellar is stationed behind his lordship, and, at the conclusion of the dinner, two silver cups filled with negus, proclaims, with a loud voice: Mr. Sword-bearer, squires, and gentlemen all, my lord mayor, and lady mayoress, drinks to you in a loving cup, and bid you all heartily welcome!' After drinking, they pass the cups down each side of the table for all to partake and drink their healths. When the ladies retire, the chaplain leads her ladyship, and after a few songs his lordship follows. Then a mighty silver bowl of punch was introduced, and a collection used to be made for the servants. They were all introduced from the stately housekeeper, to the kitchen girl, in merry procession to accept the largess, taste the punch, and perhaps the cook, or a pretty house maid, did not escape without a kiss. Hone.

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On Sir Thomas Middleton's mayorality, in 1513, the solemnity is described as unparalleled for the cost, art, and magnificence of the shows, pageants, chariots, and morning, noon, and night triumphs.

In 1655, the city pageants, were revived after a discontinuance of fourteen years.

I could detail the ceremonies on many other feasts during the year, but such, perhaps, will be sufficient to show that our ancestors thought

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'Enjoyments gentle essence,

Is virtue's godlike dower;

Its most triumphant presence,

Illumes the darkest hour." BARTON.

The mace is much in use by ecclesiastical, civil, and civic dignitaries. All the corporations have them, and there are some curious customs respecting them. At Nottingham, there are two, one with a sergeant for the mayoress. When the old mayor goes out of office, his mace is buried, that is, covered with sprigs of rosemary and bay, then covered over with crape on a table; the new mayor receives it with a kiss, on its being presented to him.

Some of them are very valuable from the metal. In 1652, the corporation of Coventry paid £38 15s. 6d. for merely exchanging the old mace for the new one, it is of silver, richly gilt; and all of them are variously and elegantly ornamented. But at Landilloes, in Wales, there were two old maces of lead; and at Loughor, two of wood and tin, which have been replaced by brass ones. At Bridgenorth, and Carlisle, the tops are convertible into drinking cups.

I wonder how many times those jovial blades, the mace bearers, with these cups, have imitated with kindred spirit, the honest speaking steward of the prodigal in " Timon of Athens," who says of himself:

When chambers reeled

"With drunken spilth of wine, when every room
Has blazed with light, and brayed with minstrelsy,
I have retired me to a wasteful cock

And set mine eyes at flow."

SHAKSPEARE.

In 1677, Thomas Sadler was hanged for stealing the lord chancellor's mace out of his bed-room; the great seal was saved from being under the pillow.

A mace seems to have been an usual gift from noblemen or gentlemen connected with, corporate bodies. In 1609, the honourable Edward Talbot, gave a mace to the corporation of Pontefract. In 1636, Sir T. P. Hoby, made a like present to the town of Scarborough. Sir T. Williams, a secretary of state, of Charles II., gave a mace to Thetford. The mace belonging to the corporation of the Bedford level, was given by the first governor, William, Earl of Bedford. In 1670, Lord Henry Howard, gave to the city of Norwich a mace of silver gilt, weighing above 167 ounces.

The pioneers of the London trained bands, or city militia, used to bear staves, at the end of which were suspended by iron chains, iron or leaden balls, armed with spikes. They resembled the ancient maces, and were called " Morgan-sterns," or morning stars; this was a formidable weapon, to suppress street rowdyism, to quell all larking propensities in those who are "vexing with mirth the drowsy ear of night;" during these reigns, there were unfortunate instances enough, when "Some frolic drunkard reeling from a feast, Provokes a broil, and stabs you in a jest."

TRADING TOWNS.

To enable the reader to form an idea of the manufacturing and commercial system during these reigns; I have selected the following account, partly from Pigott's "Commercial Directory," 1822, and also from my own observations, having travelled into nearly all the places enumerated.

If the reader should consider, I give a very meagre account of some places. I request him to bear in mind, that manufacture and commerce was at a very low ebb: and not much approved of, for Drayton, a poet, a cotemporary, and countryman of Shakspeare, writes thus of them :

"The gripple, (gripe all) merchants, born to be the curse
Of this brave isle."

BIRMINGHAM. This important town, which Burke emphatically denominated "the toy shop of Europe," in the year 1700, consisted of only one parish, with 28 streets, 2504 houses, and 15,032 inhabitants.

The following picturesque account of the rise and progress of the trades of this now corporate town, is as graphic as if drawn by the graver of an Hogarth. "The sons of the hammer were once her chief inhabitants; but that great crowd of artists is now lost in a greater. Genius seems to increase with the multitude. Part of the riches, extension, and improvement of Birmingham, are owing to the late John Taylor, Esq., who possessed the singular power of perceiving things, as they really were, the spring and consequence of action were open to his view. He rose, from minute beginnings, to shine in the com

mercial world, as Shakspeare did in the poetical, and Newton, in the philosophic, hemisphere.

To this uncommon genius, we owe the gilt button, the japanned and gilt snuff boxes, at which one servant earned three pounds ten shillings per week, by painting them at a farthing each. One of the present nobility of distinguished taste, examining the works of art with the master, purchased some of the articles, among others, a toy worth eighty guineas value; and while paying for them, observed with a smile," he plainly saw he could not reside in Birmingham for less than £200 a day." Mr. Taylor died in 1775, at the age of 64, after acquiring a fortune of £200,000.

The active power of genius, the instigation of profit, and the affinity of one calling to another, often induce the artist to change his occupation. There is nothing more common among us; even the divine, and the lawyer, are prone to this change. Thus the church throws her dead weight into the scale of commerce, and the law gives up the cause of contention; but there is nothing more disgraceful, except thieving, in other places. I am told, says an elderly gentleman, as he amused himself in a pitiful bookseller's shop, (by the by it was his own,) "that you are a stocking-maker by trade !" The humble bookseller, half confused, and wholly ashamed, could not deny the charge. 'Ah !' cried the senior, whose features were modelled between the sneer and the smile, 'there is neither honour nor profit in changing the trade you were bred to. Do not attempt to sell books, but stay at home, and pursue your own business.' The dejected bookseller, scarcely one step higher than a "walking stationer," lived to acquire a large fortune. Had he followed the senior's advice, he might, like a common foot soldier, have starved upon eightpence a day. He says, toy trades first made their appearance in Birmingham, in the beginning of Charles II.'s reign, in an endless variety, attended with all their beauty and their grace.

When he wrote, he ranked as first in pre-eminence the BUTTON. This beautiful ornament, says our author, appears with infinite variations; and though the original date is rather uncertain, yet we well remember the long coats of our grandfathers, covered with half a gross of high tops, and the cloaks of our grandmothers, ornamented with a horn button, nearly the size of a crown piece," (about the size of a silver dollar,) a watch, or a John-apple, curiously wrought as having passed through the Birmingham press."

Though, continues Hutton, the common round button keeps on with the steady pace of the day, yet we sometimes see the oval, the square, the pea, the concave, and the pyramid, flash