[6] Patches, scraps of black court-plaster, or gummed velvet cut in shapes--stars, crescents, circles, lozenges, and even more elaborate and absurd forms--became fashionable about 1650, and remained so for many years. In the reign of Queen Anne, ladies showed their political proclivities by their patches--those who patched on one side of the face only being Tories, and on the other, Whigs. Neutrals patched on both sides. [7] Thomas Aquinas bore this flattering epithet. [8] 2 Cor. v. 21. [9] John ii. 25. [10] John xvii. 3. [11] Isaiah lxiv. 6. [12] Henry Sacheverell, born at Marlborough in 1672, began life as a Whig, but finding that unprofitable, became a fervid Tory and High Churchman. He was presented to St. Saviour's, Southwark, in 1705. His celebrated trial, which followed the sermon noticed above, began February 27, and ended March 20, 1710. The Queen presented him to St. Andrew's, Holborn, in 1713; and after some years spent in comparative obscurity, he died on the 5th of June 1724. [13] Sidney Godolphin, Earl of Godolphin. II. A BAT BEHIND THE WAINSCOT. "He gazed on the river that gurgled by, But he thought not of the reeds; He clasped his gilded rosary, But he did not tell the beads: If he looked to the heaven, 'twas not to invoke The Spirit that dwelleth there; If he opened his lips, the words they spoke Had never the tone of prayer. A pious priest might the Abbot seem,-- He had swayed the crosier well; But what was the theme of the Abbot's dream, The Abbot were loath to tell." W. M. PRAED. "Harry!" said Celia, coming down with her cloak and hood on, one fine day in the following spring, "one of the pegs in the closet in our room is loose; will you make it secure for us while we are walking?" The whole family were going for an excursion in the woods, as it was Lucy's birthday, and Harry's sprained ankle kept him at home. He could stand without pain for a short time, but could not walk far; and a horse would not have been able to carry him through the thick underwood. Delay was suggested; but, as Lucy very truly, if somewhat selfishly, asserted, another day would not have been her birthday. All things considered, the Squire had decided that the excursion should not be put off, and the party set out accordingly. After they were gone, Harry went up to Celia's room, to see what would be required. The setting to rights of the offending peg was soon effected. He was retiring from the closet, when he set his foot upon a little round substance, which he guessed to be the head of a nail sticking up from the floor of the closet close to one of the back panels. "Ah!" observed Harry, apostrophizing the nail, "you must come out. You will be tearing Miss Lucy's gown, and she won't like having to mend it."