The subjoined engraving represents the Silver-gilt Standing Cup and Cover bequeathed by the celebrated historian, William Camden, Clarenceux King at Arms, to the Worshipful Company of Painter Stainers'. Camden's will is recorded in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury (in the register designated III Swann 3, probate granted November 10, 1623), and it has been printed by Hearne in his Collection of Curious Discourses, Ox. 1720. After directing the sum of eight pounds to be given "to the poore of that place (Chislehurst) when it shall please God to call me to his mercie," Camden continues—"I bequeath to Sir Foulke Greville, Lord Brooke, Chancellor of the Exchequer, who preferred me gratis to my Office, a peece of plate of ten pounds; Item, to the Company of Painter-Stainers of London, to buy them a peece of plate in memoriall of mee, sixteene pounds;" the inscription upon which is directed to be—"Guil. Camdenus Clarenceux, filius Sampsonis, Pictoris Londinensis, dono dedit." This stately and richly-decorated cup and cover is used on Corporation Festivals, in memory of the illustrious donor. In height, it is altogether twenty-three inches and a quarter, the cover only being eight inches and three-quarters; and the cup, independent of the stand, five inches and a-half, its greatest diameter being five inches and a-half. The inscription encircles the upper rim of the cup; and directly under it is an engraved escutcheon of Camden's arms; Or, a fess engrailed, between six cross crosslets fitchée, Sable. The cover presents an object of much elegance, a richly ornamented open pyramid, based on the heads of birds, the breasts bending gracefully with cartouche ornaments: the pinnacle of the pyramid surmounted by a female figure, the right hand resting on a shield, charged with the same arms as shown on the side of the cup. The birds' heads have apparently a reference to the phœnix heads in the second and third quarters of the armorial ensigns, and to the crest of the Company of Paper-Stainers.

RICHARDSON, THE SHOWMAN.

This eccentric individual, who died in 1836, left behind him upwards of £20,000. He was born in the workhouse of Marlow, Bucks, but ran away from that place in order to seek his fortune in London. After various vicissitudes, he became the landlord of the Harlequin public-house, in Drury-lane, where he saved some money, which he embarked in fitting up a portable theatre, and was known for forty years as the "Prince of Showmen," and used frequently to boast that Edmund Kean and several other eminent actors were brought out by him. His property, after various legacies to the itinerant company which had attended him for many years, descended to two nephews and a niece, and he desired by his will to be buried in Marlow churchyard, in the same grave as his favourite "spotted boy," a lad who, some years before, was exhibited by him, and attracted great notice in consequence of the extraordinary manners in which he was marked on various parts of his body. Some years since the scenery, dresses, and decorations of Richardson's theatre were exposed for auction by Mr. George Robins, and £2,000 were bid for them. They were bought in; the "old man," as he was technically denominated, considering them to be worth at least £3,000.

PRESERVATION OF DEAD BODIES.

There is an arched vault, or burying-ground, under the church of Kilsyth, in Scotland, which was the burying-place of the family of Kilsyth, until the estate was forfeited, and the title became extinct in the year 1715; since which it has never been used for that purpose, except once. The last Earl fled with his family to Flanders, and, according to tradition, was smothered to death about the year 1717, along with his lady and an infant child, and a number of other unfortunate Scottish exiles, by the falling in of the roof of a house in which they were assembled. What became of the body of the Earl is not known, but the bodies of Lady Kilsyth and her infant were emboweled and embalmed, and soon afterwards sent over to Scotland. They were landed, and lay at Leith for some time in a cellar, whence they were afterwards carried to Kilsyth, and buried in great pomp in the vault above mentioned. In the spring of 1796, some rude regardless young men, having paid a visit to this ancient cemetery, tore open the coffin of Lady Kilsyth and her infant. With astonishment and consternation, they saw the bodies of Lady Kilsyth and her child as perfect as in the hour they were entombed. For some weeks this circumstance was kept secret, but at last it began to be whispered in several companies, and soon excited great and general curiosity.

"On the 12th of June," says the Minister of the parish of Kilsyth, in a letter to J. Garnet, M.D., "when I was from home, great crowds assembled, and would not be denied admission. At all hours of the night, as well as the day, they afterwards persisted in gratifying their curiosity. I saw the body of Lady Kilsyth soon after the coffin was opened; it was quite entire. Every feature and every limb was as full, nay, the very shroud was as clear and fresh, and the colours of the ribbons as bright, as the day they were lodged in the tomb. What rendered this scene more striking and truly interesting was, that the body of her son and only child, the natural heir of the title and estates of Kilsyth, lay at her knee. His features were as composed as if he had been only asleep. His colour was as fresh, and his flesh as plump and full, as in the perfect glow of health; the smile of infancy and innocence sat on his lips. His shroud was not only entire, but perfectly clean, without a particle of dust upon it. He seems to have been only a few months old. The body of Lady Kilsyth was equally well preserved; and at a little distance, from the feeble light of a taper, it would not have been easy to distinguish whether she was dead or alive. The features, nay the very expression of her countenance, were marked and distinct; and it was only in a certain light that you could distinguish anything like the ghastly and agonizing traits of a violent death. Not a single fold of her shroud was decomposed nor a single member impaired.

"Let the candid reader survey this sketch; let him recal to mind the tragic tale it unfolds; and say, if he can, that it does not arrest the attention and interest the heart. For my own part, it excited in my memory a thousand melancholy reflections; and I could not but regret that such rudeness had been offered to the ashes (remains) of the dead, as to expose them thus to the public view.

"The body seemed to have been preserved in some liquid, nearly of the colour and appearance of brandy. The whole coffin seemed to have been full of it, and all its contents saturated with it. The body had assumed somewhat the same tinge, but this only served to give it a fresher look. It had none of the ghastly livid hue of death, but rather a copper complexion. It would, I believe, have been difficult for a chemist to ascertain the nature of this liquid; though perfectly transparent; it had lost all its pungent qualities, its taste being quite vapid.

"The head reclined on a pillow, and, as the covering decayed, it was found to contain a collection of strong-scented herbs. Balm, sage, and mint were easily distinguished; and it was the opinion of many, that the body was filled with the same. Although the bodies were thus entire at first, I confess I expected to see them crumble into dust; especially as they were exposed to the open air, and the pure aromatic fluid had evaporated; and it seems surprising that they did not. For several weeks they underwent no visible change, and had they not been sullied with dust and drops of grease from the candles held over them, I am confident they might have remained as entire as ever; for even a few months ago (many months after), the bodies were as firm and compact as at first, and though pressed with the finger did not yield to the touch, but seemed to retain the elasticity of the living body. Even the shroud, through torn by the rude hands of the regardless multitude, is still strong and free from rot.