course an immense amount of bowing, with backward steps according to true courtly fashion, went to the due uttering of these adieux on that spot of the high-road over the Apennines.  Unfortunately, there chanced to be a heap of broken stones for the mending of the road which encroached a little on the roadway.  And it so happened that His Imperial and Royal Highness, never very dexterous in the use of his limbs or an adept in the performance of such courtly gymnastics, backed in bowing on this unlucky heap of stones, and was tripped by it in such sort that the imperial and royal heels went into the air, and the grand duke made his last exit from Tuscany in a manner more original than dignified.

T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE.

OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.

OLD ENGLISH CHARITIES.

The local charities connected with the family history of great landowners in England form one of the most interesting classes of public relief.  They date chiefly from ante-Reformation times, and often embody a hidden symbolism into which none save the antiquary now cares to inquire.  It is a mistake to suppose that all the dying bequests of pious folk in the Middle Ages were devoted to the “Church” proper:  the larger part certainly were, although the spirit that prompted even the making of such bequests was symbolical of the belief in the dispensing (rather than the appropriating) powers of churchmen:  but many were also the sums left to be yearly spent in the relief of the poor and starving.  Thus originated the alms-(or bede-) houses so frequently met with in the retired villages of England. Bede (from the German beten, to “pray”) meant prayer, hinting at the pious duty of those benefiting by the founder’s legacy to pray for his eternal welfare.  When the Reformation, among many abuses, also obliterated many beautiful and poetical customs, the meaning of these “houses of prayer” was forgotten, and their chapels were often ruthlessly whitewashed.  The material part of the foundation, however, still remained, and the bedesmen, twelve or thirteen (in commemoration of the number of the apostles, or the apostles and their Master), continued to be chosen by the clergyman of the parish and the lord of the manor.  In other places, instead of this more costly mode of relief, a custom prevailed of distributing a “dole” at stated times to a large number of poor people, the number corresponding to the age of the giver:  if alive, of course the number increased every year; if dead, it was fixed at the age at which he or she had died.  Many of these local customs continue to this day:  some have even been instituted lately, since the revived taste for medievalism has beautified and refined English homesteads and village churches.  The queen, a faithful upholder of ancient national manners, has given the example by adhering to the time-honored custom called the Royal Maundy.  This word is