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LO THBURY BATHING ROOMS, FOUNDER'S- COURT, LOTHBURY, back of the BANK.— This extensive aud centrally situated Establishment has always ready for immediate administration the follow- ing BATHS:— WARM, FRESH, aud SALT WATER, Shower, Shampooing, Sulphur- Fumigating, Chlorine, Io- diue, Harrogate, Barege, Chalybeate, Medicated Vapour, Douche, and every other variety. Terms : — Warm Bath £ 0 2 6 I Eight ditto £ 1 1 0 Twelve ditto 1 1 0 Medicated Bath .. 0 5 0 Salt Water Bath.. 0 3 0 | Six ditto 1 1 0 Rcsp « ctable Male and Female Attendants. The efficacy of the Sulphur- Fumigating, Harrogate, Ba- rege, and Iodine Baths in all cutaneous affections, that of the Shampooing and Vapour iu Gouty, rheumatic, Nervous aud other painful and chronic disorders, aud the luxury aud the salutariness of Warm Bathing arc indisputable. " A Treatise on Bathing." with reference to the above re- marks, may be had at tlie Rooms, pricc 3s. 6d. D DOUBLE PATENT PERRYIAN PEN- The flexibility of this entirely new instrument is so absolutely natural, that the action of the peu " in inctal" can now no longer be distinguished from that of the goose- quill. Nor does this pen possess the property of durability in a less eminent degree than that of flexibility ;— for in the same proportion as its flexibility is greater, resistance or frictiou, from every kind of paper written on, is lets. Hence that quantity of writing, which would wear away the nib, aud reuder inert the springing parts of auy other metallic pen, would have the enrrespondiug parts of this, but little, or in no degree, altered. The construction, moreover, of every " Double- Patent Perryian Pen " is such, that the pen accommodates itself to writers of all descriptions— to those who write fine, as well as those who write coarse; aud also to all the various hands — to the smallest character of the current, as well as to ihe largest of the text- hand ; nor is it susceptible of injury in iu transitions from one to the other. The oppellation, " Double- Patent," has been adopted, because this in « tru- ment, for which, in* January of the present year, his Ma- jesty was pleased to grant to the inventor his Royal Letters Patent, possesses the preceding extraordinary' properties, without sacrificing any or those peculiar to the Perryian Pen patenled in the year 1830. The sole pens acknowledged by the inventor arc stamped with the words " DOUBLE- PATENT. PERKY, LONDON ;" aud are enclosed in sealed packets signed by him,— James Perry. The packets are of two sizes— the larger coutaiuing itn peus, price 3s. ; the smaller, four, price 1;. 6d. To he had of all Booksellers, Stationer", and Dealers in Metallic Pens, as also at the Perryian Peu Manu- factory, No. 37, Red Lion- square, London. OFFICE PERRYIAN PENS.— The patentee avails him- self of this occasion to announce that he had, a short time antecedently, manufactured, in small quantitcs, another new article in the same line for his Majesty's Stationary Office, under th « title of " Office Perryiau Pen." This highly ap- proved kind of pen, he can now supply for general con- sumption. As its title, " Office," sufficiently explains its object aud utility, there remains only to add, that in this pen, the manufacturer will be found to have admirably suc- ceeded in combining DURABILITY with EXCELLENCE. Sold in sealed packets only, signed as the foregoiug, and for the same reason. Price 2s. per packet of nine Pens, and Is. per packet of Tour. To be bad as above. All the other kinds vf Patent Perrvian Pens at the usual prices. THE MURDER SCENE. " I am sorry," said I, as we were slowly proceed- ing, " that you rejected Thornton's offer." " Why, to say truth," answered Tyrrell, " I have so very bad an opinion of hiin, that I was almost afraid to trust myself in his company on so dreary a road. I have nearly ( and he knows it), to the amount of two thousand pounds about me; for I was very fortunate in my betting- book to- day.' " I know nothing about racing regulations," said I; " but I thought one never paid 6ums of tliat amount upon the ground ?" " Ah!" answered Tyrrell, " but I won this sum, which is 1800/., of a countiy squire from Norfolk, who said lie did not know when he should see me again, and insisted on paying me on the spot: ' faith I was not nice in the matter. Thornton was standing by at the time, and I did not half like the turn of his eye when he saw me put it up. Do you know, too," continued Tyrrell, after a pause, " that I have had a d— d fellow dodging me all day, and yesterday too ; wherever I go, I am sure to see him. He seems con- stantly, though distantly, to follow inc; and what is worse, he wraps himself up so well, and keeps at so cautious a distance, that 1 can never catch a glimpse of his face." I know not why, but at that moment the recollection of the muffled figure I had seen upon the course flashed upon me. " Does he wear a long horseman's cloak?" said 1. " He does," answered Tyrrell, in surprise: " have you observed him :" '' I saw such a person on the race- ground," replied I; " but only for an instant!" Farther conversation was suspended by a few heavy drops which fell upon us; the cloud had passed over the moon, and was hastening rapidly and loweringly over our heads. Tyrrell was neither of an age, a frame, nor a temper, to be so indifferent to a hearty wetting as myself. " God!" he cried, " you must put on that beast of yours— I can't get wet, for all the horses in the world." I was not much pleased with the dictatorial tone of this remark. " It is impossible," said I, " especially as the horse is not my own, and seems considerably lamer than at first; but let me not detain you." " Well!" cried Tyrrell, in a raised and angry voice, which pleased me still less than his former remark; " but how am I to find my way, if I leave " Keep straight on," said I, " for a mile further, then a sign- post will direct you to the left; after a short time, you will have a steep hill to descend, at the bottom of which is a large pool, and a singularly shaped tree ; then keep straight on, till you pass a house belonging to Mr. Dawson " " Come, come, Pel ham, make haste!" exclaimed Tyrrell, impatiently, as the rain began now to descend fast and heavy. " When you have passed that house," I resumed coolly, rather enjoying his petulance, " you must bear to the right for six miles, and you will be at Chester Park in less than an hour." Tyrrell made no reply, but put spurs to his horse. The pattering rain and the angry heavens soon drowned the last echoes of the receding hoof- clang. For myself, I looked in vain for a tree ; not even a shrub was to be found ; the fields lay bare on, either side, with no other partition but a dead hedge and a deep dyke. " Patientia Jit melius," & c., thought I, as Horace said, and Vincent would say; and in order to divert my thoughts from my situation, I turned them towards my diplomatic success with Lord Chester. Presently, for I think scarcely five minutes had elapsed since Tyrrell's departure, a horseman passed me at a sharp pace; the moon was hid by the dense cloud, and the night, though not wholly dark, was dim and obscured, so that I could only catch the outline of the flitting figure. A thrill of fear crept over me, when I saw that it was enve- loped in a horseman's cloak. I soon rallied —" There are more cloaks in the world than one," said I to myself; " besides, even if it be Tyrrell's dodger, as he calls liitn, the baronet is better mounted than any highwayman since the days of Du Val; and is, moreover, strong enough and cunning enough to take admirable care ol himself." With this reflection 1 dismissed the occurrence from my tho'jgbts, and once more returned to self- congratulations upon my own incomparable genius. " I shall now," I thought, " have well earned my seat in parliament ; Dawson will indisputably be, if not the prime, the principal minister in rank and influence. He cannot fail to promote me for his own sake, as well as mine ; and when 1 have once fairly got my legs in St. Stephen's, 1 shall soon have my hands in oflice: ' power,' says some one, ' is a snake that when it once finds a hole into which it can introduce its head, soon manages to wriggle in the rest of its body.'" With such me- ditations I endeavoured to beguile the time and cheat myselt into forgetfulness of the lameness of my horse, and the dripping wetness of his rider. At last the storm began sullenly to subside: one impetuous tor- rent, tenfold more violent than those that had pre- ceded it, was followed by a momentary stillness, which was again broken by a short relapse of a less formida- ble severity, and the moment it ceased the beautiful moon broke out, the cloud rolled heavily away, and the sky shone forth, as fair and smiling as Lady at a ball, after she has been beating her husband at home. But at that instant, or perhaps a second before the storm ceased, 1 thought I heard the sound of a human cry. 1 paused, and my heart stood still— I could have heard a gnat hum : the sound was not repeated ; my ear caught nothing but the plashing of the rain drops from the dead hedges, and the murmur of the swollen dykes, as the waters pent within them rolled hurriedly on. By and by, an owl came suddenly from behind me, and screamed as it flapped across my path; that, too, went rapidly away ; and with a smile, at what I deemed my own fancy, I renewed my journey. I soon came to the precipitous descent 1 have before mentioned; I dismounted, for safety, from my dnwping and jaded horse, and led him down the hill. At a distance bevond I saw something dark moving on the grass which bordered the road ; as I advanced, it started forth from the shadow, and fled i rapidly before me, in the moonshine— it was a rider- less horse. A chilling foreboding seized me : I looked round for some weapon, such as the hedge might afford ; and finding a strong stick of tolerable weight and thickness, I proceeded more cautiously, but more fearlessly than before. As I wound down the hill, the moonlight fell full upon the remarkable and lonely tret I had observed in the morning. Bare, wan, and giant- like, as it rose amidst the surrounding waste, it borrowed even a more startling and ghostly appear- ance from the cold and lifeless moonbeams which fell around and upon it like a shroud. The retreating animal 1 had driven before me paused by this tree. I hastened my steps, as if by an involuntary impulse, as well as the enfeebled animal I was leading would allow me, and discovered a horseman galloping across the waste at full speed. The ground over which he passed was steeped in the moonshine, and I saw the long and disguising cloak, in which lie was enveloped, as clearly as by the light of- day. I paused : and as I was following him with my looks, my eye fell upon some obscure object by the left side of the pool. I threw my horse's rein over the hedge, and firmly grasping my stick, hastened to the spot. As I ap- proached the object, I perceived that it was a human figure; it was lying still and motionless; the limbs were half immersed iu the water— the face was turned upwards— the side and throat were wet with a deep red stain— it was of blood ; the thin, dark hairs of the head, were clotted together over a frightful and disfiguring contusion. 1 bent over the face in a shuddering and freezing silence. It was the coun- tenancc of Sir John Tyrrell!— Pelham. GIBBS, THE PIRATE. It were well that the pirate should no longer be de- picted as a hero, roving over sunny seas, and amongst green islands and romantic rocks, but as a remorseless outcast, revelling in scenes of drunkenness, blasphe- my, and murder,— indifferent to the shrieks of his defenceless victims slaughtered on the solitary sea. These remarks have bee", suggested to the writer, by the various horrid narratives of piracy that of late years have occurred in the seas of the West Indies, and amongst the Capes and lonely harbours of the Island of Cuba. Amongst these desperadoes was William Gibbs, who, recently, in the flower of his youth, ended his days upon Long Island, in the United States, by the hands of the executioner, after a course of murderous achievements, unexampled in the annals of crime. He was a native of Rhode Island, of re- ligious and wealthy parents; and after having received a liberal education, this daring spirit was apprenticed to the sea. Through various adventures he is first recognised as commencing a career of piracy in a pri- vateer, cruising out of Buenos Ayres,— one of those numberless marauders which, since the recognition of the independence of the South American States, have roamed over the Gulf of Mexico for the purpose of indiscriminate robbery and murder. In this privateer he first distinguished himself by heading a mutiny against the officers of the vessel, which proving suc- cessful. the officers were landed upon the coast of Florida, and Gibbs, assuming the command, stood out to sea to commence his terrific career. After pro- ceeding for some time in merely detaining vessels for the purpose of robbing them of their valuables, his crew grew weary of these incomplete operations, and consisting for the most part of Spaniards, it was agreed upon that as dead men can carry no tales, thence- forth no quarter should be shown, and the vessel now hoisted the black flag of the pirate. In the course of four years, during which this vessel infested the waters of the Gulf of Mexico, thirteen merchant vessels were boarded, captured, and all on board indiscriminately slaughtered,— Gibbs himself having been present at the murder of four hundred human beings. The ves- sels and cargoes were regularly carried to Cape Anto- nio,— a piratical station upon the norlh- western extre- mity of the Island of Cul; a,— the merchandise being thence transmitled by coasting vessels to the harbour of Havannah, to agents in correspondence with the pirates, from whom were received in return ammuni- tion, provisions, and other « ^ » plies. At Cape Antonio was a regular encampment and a baTtery mounting four guns; and during four years, owing to the supineness of the authorities of Cuba, these despera- does reigned without disturbance at that extremity of the island. During this period their correspond- ence with the Havannah and other stations enabled the pirates to elude the cruisers of England and Ame- rica ; and Gibbs appears to have made frequent visits to the Havannah, where his fine manners and dashing expenditure brought him into the society of the officers of the vessels of war, from whom he fre- quently learnt the track of their ensuing voyages in search of piratical vessels. It is also a circumstance to be regretted that regulations should exist in our naval service, which, by conferring upon the officers of our vessels the immense gains arising from the trans- portation of specie, contributes to divert them from the active duties of watching these piratical 6eas, so fatal to our commerce ; and at this period the commanders of the vessels of war in the service of England and America were busily engaged in carrying gold and silver across the Gulf of Mexico, whilst the pirates of Cuba were ravaging the seas. Amongst the adventures of Gibbs and his associates at this period was the following most melancholy and truly dramatic occurrence. A large ship bound from Curat^ oa to Holland was intercepted and captured in the Gulf of Mexico, and the crew and a number of passengers, in all twenty- eight persons, were murdered and thrown into tho sea. Amongst the passengers was the family of a Dutch gentleman returning to Holland, consisting of himself, his wife, servants, and an only daughter,— a young lady in the bloom of youth and beauty. After witnessing the slaughter of her parents, the unfortunate girl fell upon her knees to the captain of the pirates, and entreated him to save her from destruction in a manner so moving, that at the hazard of endangering his own life from the jealousy of his ruffian associates, Gibbs undertook to preserve her, and she was carried oft to the encampment at Cape Antonio. Here this miserable female lived for six weeks amongst these ferocious monsters in a course of life unutterable; and to all the horrors of remem- brance of her murdered parents, her own desolation and hopelessness of ever regaining her home and coun- try, was added to the perpetual dread of death from men whose policy it was to allow no human witness to escape. Frequent dissensions respecting her arose amongst the pirates, and upon one occasion her brains were about to bedashed out with the handle of a pump by one of the most desperate of the gang, to prevent which, Gibbs was compelled to shoot the ruffian dead upon the spot. At length, so alarming were the con- sequences cf preserving her, that a council of war was held upon her fate, when Gibbs was compelled to con- sent to her destruction ; whereupon this miserable lady was carried off by poison,— a dreadful termination of an agonizing life. Her melanchqly end was declared by Gibbs to have caused him more horror than all the atrocities of his sanguinary life; it is the one redeem- ing circumstance in his history, that in the midst of his brutal associates all natural affection was not ba- nished from his breast; and his persevering efforts to preserve the life of this unfortunate female form the one bright spot in his dark career. After various adventures, aud many times being closely pursued by vessels of war, the pirate was at length encountered by the United States' brig Enter- prise, under the command of Lieut. Kearney; and the retreat to the port being now cut off, the vessel was abandoned, and the pirates escaping in boats to the shore, defended themselves for some hours behind the four- gun battery ; but this being eventually car- ried, the gang were thus dispersed into the woods, and to the various harbours of the island. Here Gibbs found himself in possession of the sum of thirty thou- sand dollars, the proceeds of his accumulated share of the booty of the various expeditions; and with this sum he now embarked for England, from the harbour of Havannah, determined, in the enjoyment of his ill- gotten wealth, to banish the remembrance of its cri- minal acquisition. But this was in vain; consciencc haunted him in tho midst of his career of sensuality, and sinking into habits of drunkenness and waste, he found himself at length in circumstances of poverty in the port of Liverpool. Compelled again to resume his profession of the sea, but determined to return to his lawless pursuits, Gibbs appears to have sailed for Gibraltar, and thence to the city of Algiers, with the intention of offering his services tu the Dey, then en- gaged in war against the French ; but finding the har- bour so closely invested by the fleets of France that no entrance could possibly be effected, he was compelled to abandon the enterprise, and returning to Gibraltar, sailed thence to the port of New Orleans, in the United States. Here his poverty left him no alterna- tive but to engage as a seaman in the brig Vineyard, bound to Philadelphia; and in this voyage were per- petrated the murders which terminated his career of crime. When at sea, it became known to Gibbs and his fellow- seamen, that amongst the cargo of the brig was the sum of fifty thousand dollars, in boxes of specie, consigned to Mr. Stephen Gerard, the wealthy banker of Philadelphia, whose recent decease, and magnifi- cent donations to the public institutions of Pennsyl- vania, are well known in this country. To secure this treasure, with the vessel and cargo, by the murder of the officers, was now determined upon ; and the con- spirators, of whom Gibbs, with a youth, and the mu- latto steward of the vessel, were the principals, pro- ceeded upon a certain night to the quarter- deck, where stood the captain, who was brought down by the blow of a pump- handle, and immediately, whilst still alive, thrown into the sea. Descending to the cabin, the mate was there murdered in a similar man- ner, and the mutineers were now in possession of the vessel. Gibbs assuming the command, and steering to the north, from ignorance of the true position of the vessel at that time, it appears that in the following night the brig went ashore upon Long Island, at a point distant about nine miles from the city of New York. It now became necessary to abandon the ves- sel ; and the fifty thousand dollars being secured, the party now descended to the boats, and stood towards the shore; a rough sea rising, however, at the time, compelled them to throw overboard boxes containing thirty- five thousand dollars, and a landing was with difficulty effected with the remaining fifteen thousand. This amount the pirates buried in the sand upon the beach, and proceeding to a neighbouring tavern, were soon immersed in those scenes of debauchery, always attendant upon a life of crime. Here one of the party, whose participation in the mutiny and murder had been compulsory and unwilling, revealed the particu- lars of the deed ; whereupon the whole party were apprehended, conveyed to New York, and committed to prison. In the month of June last, they were tried, when Gibbs, with the youth, and the mulatto steward, being convicted upon the evidence of their associates, were condemned to death, and executed upon Long Island, near the scene of their landing from the brig. The particulars of this narrative are from the confes- sions of Gibbs, previous to his death ; and an import- ant document is said to have been rendered by him. containing the names of many of his former associates in his career of piracy : from which it appears, that many of the highest authorities of the Island of Cuba have been for years connected with piratical adven- turers. It is now the prevailing opinion in America, that the military occupation, by a superior power, of that lawless dependency of Spain, can alone prevent a repetition of those murderous piratical horrors, which have recently spread universal terror over the seas of the West Indies.— Monthly Mug. PHENOMENON AT ST. HELENA. It was in the early part of the month of May, a month rendered remarkable by the death of the Great Chieftain, which took place on tho 5th day, that we were pulling in as usual in the launch, with several working parties on board, but observing that the surf was too violent for the large boat filled with men to attempt a landing, we tried to accomplish it by a few at a time in the jolly- boat. A small number, in- cluding myself, got on shore in this manner. Shortly after, 1 was engaged in conversation with an officer of the Honourable Company's ship Ganges, surrounded by native women, some children, and Lascars, when I felt myself forcibly pulled by the arm, and heard a person exclaim,—" Look at the horizon, TUD, save yourself, we shall be all lost!" I did look, and the sight I shall never cease to re- member, it was so frightfully grand. On the horizon, from the north- west, appeared an immense undula- tion, or swell, resembling a bank of water rolling majestically in, directly in the wind's eye. Whether it was lfiy anxiety for the boats, or that astonishment had paralysed me, I cannot tell, but I felt rivetted to the spot alone, and before I could attempt to save myself, as others did by climbing the rocks, I was whirled along with the rapidity of lightning in the midst of this dark wave. Almost in an instant I experienced a violent shock, which stunned me for a few moments; on recovering the perfect use of my senses, I found myself in the armourer's cave, with the forge lying across my thigh. To this circum- stance I must draw attention, as, by its weight keeping me from going into the sea as the water re- ceded, and from being dashed against the rocks, to it I owe my preservation. Near me were lying two Lascars, one was split up the middle, the other' 6 skull was beat to pieces— both were dead. Fearing a return of the surf, as the sea usually rolls in quickly twice, and then comes with redoubled violence, I made the best use of ray lungs ; the carpenter fortu- nately heard my cries and rescued me. My clothes were torn to shreds, my ears, eye6, and nose filled with ashes and blood ; but, with the exception of a few contusions, and lacerated hands, I was otherwise unhurt. One woman was drowned, and several men and children were picked up by the boats. This first swell that I have mentioned was the prelude to a gigantic surf, which lasted three days. This phenomenon ( as nothing like it had « ver taken place iu the memory of the oldest inhabitants) was attributed to an earthquake. We had only tele- graphic communication with the ship while it lasted. The fortifications were much injured in front of James Town; huge rocks were torn up and tossed into our little bathing- pl ace to the left of the landing; the guard- house was abandoned, the sea reaching the upper windows; the ships rode with sails aback to keep them astern of their anchors; and, while it lasted, to see the mass of water burst upon the cliffs, as if to shake the island from its foundation, was the grandest sight I ever beheld.— United Service Jour- nal. THE LAIRD OF WARISTOUN. The estate of Waristoun, near Edinburgh, now partly covered by the extended streets of the metro- polis on its northern side, is remarkable in local his- tory for having belonged to a gentleman, who, in the year 1600, was cruelly murdered at the instigation of his wife. This unfortunato lady, whose name was Jean Linn gstone, was descended from a respectable line of ancestry, being the daughter of Livingstone, the laird of Dnnipace, iu Stirlingshire, and at an early ago was married to John Kincaid, the laird of Waristoun, who, it is believed, was considerably more advanced in years than herself. It is probable that this disparity of age laid the foundation of much do- mestic strife, and led to the tragical event now to be noticed. The ill- fated marriage and its results form the subject of an old Scottish ballad, in which the proximate cause of the murder is said to have been a quarrel at the dinner- table :— It was at dinner as they sat, And when they drank the wine, How happy were the laird and lady Of bonnie Waristoun ! But he has spoken a word in jest; Her answer was not good; And he has thrown a plate at her, Made her mouth gush wi' bluid. Whether owing to such a circumstance as is here alluded to, or a hite, which tho laird is said to have inflicted upon her arm, is immaterial; the lady, who appears to have been unable to restrain her malig- nant passions, conceived the diabolical design of baring her husband assassinated. There was some- thing extraordinary in the deliberation with which this wretched woman approached the awful gulf of crime. Having resolved on the means to be em- ployed in the murder, she sent for aquandam servant of her father, Robert Weir, who lived in the neigh- bouring city. He came to the place of Waristoun, to see her; but it appears her resolution failed, and lie was not admitted. She again sent for him, and he again went. Again he was not admitted. At length, on his being called a third time, he was introduced to her presence. Before this time, she had found an accomplice in the nurs* of her child. It was then arranged, that Weir should be concealed in a cellar till the dead of the night, when he should comc forth and procccd to destroy the laird as he lay in his chamber. The bloody tragedy was acted precisely in accordance with this plan. Weir was brought up, at midnight, from the cellar to the hall by the lady herself, and afterwards went for- ward alone to the laird's bed- room. As he proceeded to his bloody work, she retired to her bed, to wait tho intelligence of her husband's murder. When Weir entered the chamber, Waristoun awoke with the noise, and leant inquiringly over the side of the bed. The murderer then leapt upon him; the unhappy man uttered a great cry; Weir gave him some severe blows upon vital parts, particularly one on the flank vein. But as the laird was still able to cry out, he at length saw fit to take more effective measures; he seized him by the throat with both hands, and, com- pressing that part with all his force, succeeded, after a few minutes, in depriving him of life. When tho lady heard her husband's first death- 6hout, she leapt out of bed, in an agony of mingled horror and repent- ance, and descended to the hall; hut she made no effort to countermand her mission of destruction. She waited patiently till Weir came down to inform her that all was over. Weir made an immediate escape from justice ; but Lady Waristoun and the nurse were apprehended before the deed was half a day old. Being caught, as the Scottish law terms it, red- hand — that isr, while still bearing unequivocal marks of guilt, they were immediately tried by the magistrates of Edinburgh, and sentenced to be strangled and burnt at a stake. The lady's father, the laird, of Dunipace, who was a favourite of King James the Sixth, made all the interest he could with his majesty to procure a pardon : but all that could bo obtained from the king, was an order that the unhappy lady should be executed by decapitation, and that at such an early hour in the morning as to make the affair as little of a spectacle as possi- ble. The space intervening between her sentence and her execution was only thirty- seven hours; yet, in that little time, Lady Waristoun contrived to become couverted from a blood- stained and unrelenting mur- deress into a perfcct saint on earth. One of tho then ministers of Edinburgh has left an account of her conversion, which was lately published, and would bo extremely amusing, were it not for the loathing which seizes the mind on beholding such an instance of per- verted religion. She went to the scaffold with a de- meanour which would have graced a martyr. Her lips were incessant in the utterance of pious exclama » tions. Her execution took place at four in the morn- ing of the 5th of July, at the Watergate, near Holy- rood- house ; and at the same hour her nurse was burnt on the Castle Hill. It is some gratification to know, that the actual murderer, Weir, was eventually seized and executed, though not till four years after.— Chambers's Journal. BOHEMIAN SONG. I sought the dark field where the oat- grass was growing. The maidens were there— and that oat- grass were mowing; And I call'd to those maidens—" Now say if there b « The maiden I love ' midst the maidens I 6ce." And they sighed as they answered, " Ah ! no ! alas! no, She was laid in the bed of the tomb long ago.'' " Then show me the way where my footsteps must tread, To reach that dark chamber where slumbers the dead." " The path is before thee— her grave will be known, By the rosemary wreaths her companions have strown." " And where is the church— and the churchyard— whose heaps Will point out the bed where the blessed one sleeps 1" So straight to the churchyard in sadness I drew, But I saw no fresh heap, and no grave that was new. I turned— a new grave slowly rose at my feet, And my heart froze all o'er with a damp icy sweat. And I heard a low voice— but it audibly said, " Disturb not— disturb not the sleep of the dead. Who treads on my bosom— what footsteps have Bwept The dew from the bed where the weary one slept V' " My maiden ! my maiden ! so speak not to me, My presents were once not unwelcome to thee." " Thy presents were welcome— yet none could I save, Not one could 1 bring to the stores of the grave I" Bowring. CIC. ATI SMOKERS.— It is 6aid that the greater and more common part of the cigars vended in the United Kingdom, and sold at from 8s. to 13s. the hundred, are prepared from cabbage leaf, soaked in a strong so- lution of tobacco water. Cigars, so composed, are generally passed off under the names of Hamburgh, Maryland, and Virginia. The same deceptions may be said to exist in respect to the small cheroots, whe- ther scented or not; they are, with comparatively trifling exceptions, nearly all of British make. We think it more probable that the leaf of the common lettuce is used for this purpose.— New Monthly. J » > FOREIGN LITERATURe. The most amusing article we liave been able to find in Hie French Figaro of the past week, is the follow- ing squib, on the subscription of 12,000 francs by the Duchess dc Berri, for the relief of the poor suffering in Paris with the cholera :— A CIPHER- SCENE— A Saloon in an Holcl at Paris. FIRST CARLIST— Gentlemen, the cholera having decidedly broken out at Paris, it has been hinted to nic that we might turn it to the advantage of the good cause. ALL— Agreed! agreed! SECOND CARLST— We must skilfully spread the report that the cholera is the consequence of the revo- lution of July. An,— It is already done. Look at the Gazette.. FIRST CAR LIST— But this plan is not enough. We must speak to the hearts and feelings of the people. We must prove that we take a greater in- terest than any one else in their sufferings. ALL— A subscription,— we must subscribe for the people,— let's all subscribe*. SECOND CARLIST— It is not enough. Doubtless it is a happy idea to force the people to receive the be- nefactions of those whom they look upon as enemies. But this suggestion is incomplete, let us give a decisive blow. I am willing we should subscribe, but let the money be given in the name of one of the princes. A LADY— I propose Henry III. AN OLD PEER— I should say Charles the Tenth, or the Duchess d'Angouleme; she was so charitable, good lady. SECOND CARLIST— Gentlemen, new names are better than all. Nothing that is worn- out and unpo- pular can assist us at this moment. ( A murtwr in the saloon.) I propose, therefore, that the subscription shall be in the name of the Duchess de Berri. ALL— Very well; agreed. A VOICE— But are you not dreaming! The Duchess is in Italy, and cannot yet know of the epi- demic at Paris. We must wait a few days to give the thing an air of plausibility, and let there be time for a courier to have gone and come back again. SECOND CARLIST— Pooh! The people don't un- derstand geography— let us settle at once the amount of the subscription. FIRST CARIST ( with a paper in his hand)— Louis- Philippe has subscribed 60,000 francs; we must give double. After " The King of the French 60,000 francs," it will look well, " The Duchess de Berri 120,000 francs!" We must have a restora- tion after that. ALL ( with enthusiasm)— Agreed! agreed! A VOICE— One more observation— Louis- Philippe has, it is true, given 60,000 francs, but then he has added a million. To make the thing of any conse- quence, we must give two bullions. ( Murmurs of dis- content.) FIRST CARLIST— There should be bounds to every- thing. We cannot go to two millions. ALI.— What's to be done? SECOND CARLIST— Let us'not lose sight of the grand object, which is to give something. It is an admicable opportunity for us to speak of the love which the exiled princes have for their people, and of the beneficence and virtues of the mother of Henry the 5th. Only think of the effect that the widow's mite would producc on the Parisian populace. FIIIST CARLIST— Then since the sum does not signify, I think that 1.000 francs for each arondisse- juent will be sufficient to produce the impression we desire. I propose taking from the 120,000 francs one cipher. ALL— Agreed ! agreed ! And the cipher having been taken away, 12,000 francs were immediately collected. You know the rest. A GHOST STORY. ( Translated from the Volksmarchen of Musaeus.) On the banks of a small river, called Lokwitz, in Vogtland, is situated the castle of Lauenstein, which was formerly a nunnery, that was destroyed in the thirty years' war. The holy domain passed again as an abandoned property into the hands of the laity, and was let by the Count of Orlomunda, the former lord of the manor, to one of his vassals, who built a castle on the ruins of the cloister, to which he probably gave his own name. He was called Lord of Lauen- stein. The event soon fatally proved to him, that church property never prospers in the hands of lay- men, and that sacrilege, however clandestinely com- mitted, will always meet with punishment in the end. The bones of the deceased nuns were roused from their peaceful abode. Rattling noises perpetually disturbed the tranquillity of the family. Processions of nuns, with flaming images, were seen passing to aud fro, opening and shutting the doors. They would often follow the ser- vants wherever they went, in the 6tables, and different apartments of the castle, pinching them, nodding at them, and tormenting them with frightful noises. The terror and dismay which these disturbances pro- duced, spread among all the domestics, who were afraid of moving from the spot where they were fixed, for fear of meeting something more horrible. Nor was the lord himself proof against this host of spirits. The resentment of the nuns did not confine itself to these outrages. They would likewise attack the cattle, dry up the milk of the cows, and flit about the horses: so that both men and beasts were kept in a continual state of affright, from the annoyances of the spirits. The lord of the manor spared no expense to obtain, by means of exorcisms, a cessation of the tumults. But the most powerful enchantment, before which the whole empire used to tremble, and the sprinkling brush dipt in holy water which drives away spirits as the flap drives away flies, had no effect on these Amazonian spectres, who defended their claim- to the property of the castle so firmly, that the exorcists, with their holy vessels and relics, were sometimes obliged to quit the field. There was a certain famous man of the name of Gessner, who travelled about the country to lay spirits, and retrieve the injuries which their nocturnal revels had produced. To him was reserved the task of reducing these troublesome visitors to obedience, and confining them again in the gloomy regions of death, where they might roll their skulls and rattle their bones without molestation. Tranquillity was now restored in the castle. The nuna now slept again the 6till sleep of death; but after the perit> d of seven years, a restless spirit of the sisterhood made her appearance in the night, renewed the former disturbances for a long time, till she was weary, then having rested another seven years, re- peated her visits. So that the family in course of time began to be habituated to her appearance at stated periods, and left the apartments whenever that happened. Upon the decease of the first'possessor, the inherit- ance fell by a regular succession into the hands of the male heir, which did not fail till the thirty yeare' war, when the last branch of the Lauenstein family flourished, in whose formation nature seemed to have exhausted ail her powers; she had so prodigally lavished her materials upon him, that at the time he was arrived at years of maturity, his corpulence and weight almost equalled that of the famous Irishman, who some years ago exhibited the enormous bulk of his body in the principal towns of Germany ; at the same time the youug Lord Siegmund, tu rusticated manners united an uncommon share of pride : he was determined to enjoy life; while he carefully avoided auy extravagance which would diminish the paternal estate, that had been hoarded up by parsimony. After the example of their ancestors he fixed upon a wife, as soon as his parents were deceased ; and be- gan to look forward with pleasure to the prospect of an heir to his estate. In this, however, he was dis- appointed ; for the wished- for child proved a lovely girl. He afterwards sought no other enjoyments but that of eating, so that all the hopes of a male succes- sor were buried in his corpulence. His wife, who from the beginning had the management of the family, fixed all her affections on her daughter, and left her husband to revel in his sensual indulgences, till at last he regarded nothing but the luxuries of the table. The education of Emily was, therefore, intrusted to the care of her mother, who spared no pains in adorn- ing her person, and cultivating her understanding, of which she had no small share. In proportion as the charms of her fair Emily be- gan to expand, her views were extended, and her hopes flattered, with seeing her daughter once the ornament of her family. She indulged latent pride, which consisted in an extravagant attachment to her pedigree. No family in all Vogtland, except the ***, were in her opinion of sufficient antiquity and noble birth to be allied to the Inst branch of the Lauenstein family ; when, therefore, the youths of the neighbourhood were eager to pay their respects to this young ladv, whose affcctions they wished to gain, the wary mother gave them such reception as effectually put a stop to any further intercourse. She likewise carefully guarded the heart of Emily against what she called smuggled goods, and railed greatly against the speculations of cousins and aunts, who busied themselves in forming matrimonial connexions. This had the desired effect upon the daughter, who united with her mother in rejecting every offer. So long as the heart of a maid yields to instruction, it may be compared to a small boat in the ocean, which suffers itself to bo steered wherever the rudder guides it, but when the wind rises and the waves toss the light bark to and fro, it regards no longer the rudder, but yields to the violence of the winds and dashing of the waters. Thus the docile Emily sub- mitted to the guidance of maternal instruction, and walked with cheerfulness in the path of pride. The heart was yet untainted with guile. She expected some prince or count to do homage to her charms, and therefore treated every inferior person with a con- tempt truly gratifying to her mother. Before a suitable sucbessor could be found for the Lauenstein estate, a circumstance happened to frus- trate the views of the mother, and proved that all the princes and counts in the Roman empire would have come too late to gain the heart of Emily. During the disturbances of the thirty years' war, the army of the brave Wallenstein took its winter quarters in Vogtland ; and Siegmund received many uninvited guests, who committed more outrages in the castle than the former nocturnal visitors. If they did not lay claim to it as their just property, in the same manner as the latter, neither did they suffer themselves to be expelled by exorcists; and Sieg- mund saw himself compelled to make his guests com- fortable, that they might preserve discipline. Entertainments and balls succeeded each other, without intermission ; the former was superintended by Madame Siegmund, and the latter by Emily. The officers were pleased with the hospitality with which they were treated, and their host with the good temper and respect with which they returned it. Among them were many who might have attracted Venus herself; one, however, who was called the beautiful Frederic, eclipsed the rest. To a fine form he united insinuating manners. He was gentle, modest, agreeable, lively, and a charming dancer. No man had yet made an impression upon the heart of Emily; but she could not resist these fas- cinations when united to a red coat. Her heart became susceptible of feelings, of which she was not at first couscious, they filled her 60ul with an inexpressible pleasure. The only thing that surprised her was, that such attractions should be found in a person who was neither a prince nor a count. Upon a nearer acquaintance she frequently ques- tioned his companions respecting his family and pros- pects; but no one could give her any satisfaction on asubject which occupied all her thoughts. Every one praised hiin as a brave and amiable man, but his truth seemed to be buried in perfect oblivion. The secret inquiries of the anxious Einily did not remain long concealed from him. His friends thought to flatter him with this information, and accompanied it with many favourable conjectures. Mis modesty would not permit him to consider this any thing but a joke. At the same time he felt a secret pleasure in supposing himself the subject of a young lady's thoughts, who was by IIO means indifferent to him. The first view of her had excited in him an en- thusiasm which is the precursor of love. No words are 60 forcible or intelligent as the looks which excite the sympathy of a tender attachment. A verbal explanation did not take place for some time, but both parties could divine each other'H thoughts; their countenances declared what the bashfulness of love forbade them to utter. The unsuspecting mother was now so immersed in the care of providing for her guests, that she had not leisure to guard with her usual diligence every avenue to the heart of Emily. Friz perceiving this, did not fail to turn it to his own advantage ; by insinuating himself in her favour. As soon as he had gained her confidence, he gave her very different instructions from those she had received from her mother. As he was the avowed enemy of distinctions, his care was to free the mind of Emily from the prejudices she had received upon this subject; teaching her that birth and rank must not be put in competition with the softest and most pleasing passion. The enamoured Emily sull'ered her pride, there- fore, to fall before her attachment, and excused in her lover the'want of nobility and titles ; she even carried her political heresy 60 far as to conceive the pre- rogatives of birth, with regard to love, were a yoke which human freedom should be permitted to shake off. The affections of Frederic were now fixed on her, and from every circumstance he was satisfied that his love would meet an ample return. He sought, there- fore, an opportunity to open to her the state of his heart. She received his professions with blushes, but with real pleasure ; and their confiding souls were united by mutual vows of inviolable fidelity. They were now happy for the present instant, but shud- dered at their future prospects. The return of the spring recalled the army to the field, and the melan- choly period in which the lovers were to part quickly approached. Consultations were now begun, how an intercourse might bo kept up between the two lovers, who solved that nothing but death should separate them forever. Emily informed him ol her mother's senti- ments on the choice of a husband for her, and the im- probability that her pride would yield in a single point to affection. An hundred schemes were alternately fixed upon and rejected, as the difficulties of each preponderated in their minds. When the young warrior perceived the willingness of his mistress to embrace any plan that would contribute to the completion of his wishes, he proposed an elopement as the securest method which love ever suggested, and by means ol which it had often succeeded in frustrating the views of parsimonious pride. Emily after a little reflection consented. The only subject of consideration was, the method'of escaping from the strongly guarded castle, and the scrutinizing vigilance of her mother, which would be redoubled upon the departure of Wal- lenstein's arm)'. But the inventions of love surmount every obstacle. Emily was well acquainted with the periodical visits of the spirits, and that on All- Saints' day, in the ensiling autumn, when seven years would be elapsed since their last appearance, they were expected to be renewed. The terror of nil the inhabitants she knew likewise to be very great on these occasions, which gave her an idea of the possibility of passing for one of the ghosts. For this purpose she proposed to keep a nun's dress in readiness for herself, and under this disguise to make her escape. Frederic was enchanted at the happy thought, and joyfully clasped her in his arms. Although at the time of the thirty years' war heterodoxy was but in its infancy, yet the young hero was philosopher enough to disbelieve the ex- istence of ghosts, or at least to deny their interference with humau affairs. When every thing was prepared for her departure, Frederic mounted his horse, committed himself to the protection of fortune, and put himself at the head of his squadron. The campaign terminated fortunately tor him : Love seemed to have listened to his prayers, and taken him under her protection. In the mean time, Emily, who was alternately agitated with hope and fear, trembled for the life of her faithful Amadis, and took particular care to make herself acquainted with the safety of their winter guests. Every report of a skirmish terrified her, which her mother attributed to the humanity of her disposition, not suspectingthe real cause of solicitude. Frederic did not omit to fconvey information to his mistress of his situation from time to time, by priv. ate letters, which reached her through the means of a faithful chambermaid, by whom she returned intel- ligence of herself. As soon as the campaign was at an end, he began to make every preparation for his expedition, and waited with the most restless impatience for the joyful day when he was to repair to a little wood near the castle. On the day of All- Souls, Emily prepared herself for putting her scheme into execution, with the as- sistance of her chambermaid. She affected a slight indisposition, retired to her chamber at an early hour, and converted herself into one of the handsomest nuns whose spirit had ever appeared. The tedious hours moved on leaden wheels. Every motion increased her eagerness to commence the ad- venture. In the mean time the moon, a friend to lovers, threw her pale light over the castle, where the bustle of the busy day had given way to awful stillness. No one was awako but the housekeeper, who was summing up the domestic expenses, by the dim light ot a candle; the porter, who also served as watchman ; and the dog Hector, who, barking, saluted the rising moon. When the midnight hour arrived, the undaunted Emily sallied forth. Provided with a large key that unlocked the doors, she slided gently down the stairs into the hall. Descrying here unexpectedly a light in the kitchen, she began to rattle a bundle of keys with all her might, threw down the chimney- board with violence, opened the house door, and entered the lall porch. As soon as the three watches heard this rattling they thought of the ghosts, aud took refuge in different places. The housekeeper ran into bed, the dog into his kennel, and the porter to hie wife on the straw; by which means Emily obtained her liberty, and hastened to the wood where she fancied she already saw at a distance the carriages and horses. But what was her amazement when upon a nearer approach it f^ ucd to Ix^ tlie shade of a tic. She thought, of cotirJC, that she had misia'ten the place of rendezvous, aud traversed, therefore, every part of the wood from one eud to the other. But all her search- terminated in the most grievous disappointment: her knight and his equipage was no where to be found. Amazed at this event she was incapable of thinking or acting. Not to attend to engagements of this kind is a crime amongst all lovers, but in the present case it was unpardonable. The affair was to her inexplicable. After waiting an hour in the most cruel anxiety, in which her heart was torn with con- flicting passions of grief, shame, and vexation, she began to weep and utter the bitterest complaints, when at length the reflections suddenly led her to recal her long lost family pride ; she was ashamed of her condescension in making choice of a man of unknown family. The ecstar. y of passion had now forsaken her. Her reason had gained the ascendency, and she resolved to retract the false step she had taken, by returning immediately to the castle, and forgetting her lover. Upon her arrival there she was met by her maid, who received her with a mixture of joy and surprise. Every thing, however, was buried in the profoundest silence. Her lover was not however so culpable as the in censed Einily imagined. He had not failed to attend at the appointed place, even earlier than necessary, in order to be in perfect readiness to receive his beloved mistress. While waiting with anxious impatience, the form of a nun presented itself before him. He sprang from his place of ambush, clasped it in his arms, and cried out—" I have you ; I hold yon ; I will never let you go, dear Emily; now thou art mine, and I am thine, with heart and soul:" upon these word: ho joyfully carried the lovely burden, and placed it in the carriage, which drove off with the utmost speed. The horses snorted, kicked and shook their manes, one of the wheels broke, and by a violent jerk the horses, carriage, and man, were thrown down a pre- cipice into a deep" clitch; our hero became insensible from the violence of the fall, and, upon his recovery, found himself in a village, whither he had been carried by some country people, who discovered him in the morning in a deplorable condition. He had lost all his cquipngo, together with his fair com- panion. This circumstance afflicted him more than all the rest. He sent people to different parts in pur- suit of Emily, but could obtain no information. The midnight set him free from the anxiety of suspense ; when the clock struck twelve his door was opened, and his fellow- traveller made her appearance, not in the form of the enchanting limily, but of the ghostly nun, as a horrible skeleton. Tho beautiful Frederic became sensible of his mistake, blessed and crossed himself, and uttered many ejaculations. The ghost turned itself towards him, walked to his bed, stroked his cheeks with her ice- cold hands, crying " Freddy ! Freddy ! I am thino, thou art mine, with heart and soul." Hnving persecuted him for a whole tedious hour with her presence, she at length disappeared. In this manner she continued her persecution every night, and followed him to Eicbs- feld, where he was quartered. Ho had there no respite from the irksome caresses of the ghost, which alllictcd him to the destruction of his spirits. His melancholy became the subject of conversation among his companions, who felt compassion for him, without being able to conjecture the cause of his anxiety ; for lie had not ventured to divulge his unfortunate secret. He had, however, one confidential friend among his comrades, an old lieutenant, who was reputed to be expert in laying spirits ; to him the beautiful Frederic explained the grounds of his uneasiness. " Is that all," said the exorcist with a smile, " I will relieve you from this impertinent visitor: follow me to my quarters." Upon entering, he observed many ma- gical preparations and characters marked upon the floor, and as soon as the lieutenant called, the mid- night spirit appeared in a dark room, lighted by the dull glimmer of a magic lamp. He reproached the ,' host severely, and appointed a willow in a lonelv glen as the place of its abode, with an injunctioh for it immediately to repair thither, never more to return. The ghost disappeared ; but in the same instant a storm and whirlwind arose; which was dispelled by a procession of twelve pious men in the town, who rode on horseback singing a penitential psalm, according to their usual custom. After this the spirit was never more seen. The beautiful Frederic recovered his spirits, and re- paired again to the field under Wallenstcin, where he fought many successful campaigns, in which he con- ducted himself so nobly, that on his return to Bohemia he was honoured with the command of a regiment. He took hisjourney through Vogtland, and, upon per- ceiving the castle of Lanenstein, his heart heat with doubt whether his Einily had been faithful or not. He called, as an old friend, at the castle, where he met with a reception suitable to the name. The ( lis- may of Emily was Inconceivable, when her supposed faithless Frederic entered the room. A mixture of joy and sorrow overwhelmed her. ™ ultl not resolve to deign him a tender look, and yet this constraint cost her many severe struggles. She had been reasoning herself for three yeare out ol n passion which she thought beneath a person in her rank ot life; but still she could never completely erase the plebeian luver from her thoughts. I „ this s'tate of mind, fluctuating between resentment and affection was the tender Emily when Frederic addressed her and by Ins Insinuating manners procured an oppor- tunity of relating tho whole affair; l0 which she ill return informed him of her suspicions and resentment The joy and affection of the two lovers redoubled upon these mutual conlessions. They agreed to extend their secret a little farther, and include her mother in the circle of their confidence. The good lady was struck with as much astonish- ment at the art of her daughter in carrying on an in- trigue, as at the circumstance of her elopement in so extraordinary a manner. She thought it just, how- ever, that au affection which had experienced so severe a trial should be rewarded by an union of the persons. And though this idea militated against the prospects she had formed for her daughter, yet, since no prince or count was in view, she gave her consent, after which the beautiful Frederic embraced his charming bride, and his marriage concluded hap- pily, without meeting any farther oppositiou from the ghostly nun. THE THREE OLD MATDS. " My furies," said Pluto to the messenger of the gods, " are growing old and decrepit. I want new ones. Go, therefore, Mercury, and try to find, in the upper world, three females fit to be appointed their successors." Mercury departed to execute Jupiter's command.— Juno soon after said to her waiting woman, " Do you think you would be able to find amongst the mortals two or three maids completely chaste and rigorously coy ? But rigorously coy ! do you comprehend mc f I wish to humble Venus, who boasts of having subdued the whole female sex' Go, and endeavour to find ihem out." Iris went, and searched all corners of the globe ; but to no purpose. She returned unattended to Juno, who, on seeing her, exclaimed, " Is It possible? Alas, what is become of chastity and virtue?" " Goddess," replied Iris," [ could have brought you tbreo females that are rigor- ously coy and chaste, have never smiled at a man, and extinguished every spark of love in their hearts; but I came unfortunately too late." " Too late !" re- peated Juno, " how so J" " Mercury had just taken them to the realms of Pluto !" " Of Pluto ! for what purpose does Pluto want these patterns of virtue]'' 1 " To supply the place of the FU IIIKS."— Lessing. LOGIC ON TIIF. RACK. Campanella's mode of reasoning ( Quaest. Moral., p. 8) upon his being put to the torture, is remarkable. He maintains that no man can be compelled to do what is wrong, or that any force exercised upon him can in the smallest degree impair what constitutes the true dignity of his nature. " This," he says, " I myself have experienced. For forty hours together I have been suspended on a rope, to which I was tied by my arms, turned behind my back; other ligatures squeezed the flesh of my limbs to the bone; 1 was obliged to sit upon a pointed stake ; when I endea- voured to relieve myself by resting upon my arms that vcre tied behind me, I suffered the most excruciating orments in my shoulders, arms, breast and neck; ana when I placed myself in a sitting posture, the sharp pointed wood ran into my flesh, so as to occasion a great effusion of blood. At length, after a lapse of forty hours, my tormentors, imagining 1 was dead, ceased to torture me; the majority of the by- standers pronounced curses upon my head, and aggravated my torments by shaking the rope to which I was sus- pended ; whilst others secretly admired the fortitude which I displayed. Here I experienced, that it stands in the option of man, whether he will suffer a real in- jury to be done hiin, or not; for I did not yield to them in the least, nor could they extort a single con- fession from my lips. Nevertheless, Aristotle would have pronounced mc, in my then situation, to be mi- serable. Had I followed his doctrines, and, in order to save my life, acted contrary to . my conviction, I should have been vanquished, should have become a slave to fear, aud unworthy to live." Many literary men have fallen victims to their own quackery, and many to that of their physicians. Muretus lay sick at Rome. He sent for several phy- sicians, who held a consultation upon tho state of their patient in Latin, imagining that Muretus, whom they did not know, did not understand that language. Their final determination w as—" What matters this man's life? We will try an experiment." ( Faciamus periculum in anima vili.) " And so," said Muretus, raising himself from his pillow, " you make no ruple of playing with the life of a man, whose soul Christ has redeemed 1 " The experimental philoso- phers were struck speechless, huug their heads, and slunk off. Dr. Unzer relates in his Artzt, that when, in Cor- sica, a married man dies, all women of the place crowd to the house of the deceased, and beat the widow most severely ; whence it happens that in no country in Europe the wives are more anxious to pre- serve the life of their yoke- mates than in Corsica. After having performed this extraordinary act ot cor- rection, they put the corpse in a blanket, tossing it sometimes for hours— a method which has recalled to life many people, who to all appearance had been dead. A SCOTCH PEER.— Lord K . dining at Provost S ' s, and being the only peer press- nt, one of the company gave a toast, " The Duke of Buccleugh." So the peerage went round till it came to Lord K , who said he would give them a peer, which, although not toasted, was of more use than the whole. His lordship gave The Pier of Leith." EPIGRAM TO K- , DENTIST AND DRAMATIST. O, K ! thou'rt a versatile genius in truth ! Now character drawing, now drawing a tooth ; Sure thy pincers and verses claim equal applause, For, when put in one's mouth, they both shatter the jaws. CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO MUTES, AT THE DOOR OF A " HOUSE OR MOURNING." [ The following vernacular specimen is, we are aware, rather low.- hut we have chosen to insert it for its illustration ofcharacrcr. It is the faithful transcription of a dialogue over- heanl in ouc of the streets of Loudon, about three mouths since.] MUGGINS— What a precious time them people in- side keeps us waiting here! I'm blowed if my toes is'nt as cold as a corpse's nose. ( Stamps with his feet ) GRAVES—^ Hush! there's the woman in the two- pair opposite a- watching of us We must look particler. MUG.— Why the man wot's died here wam't no sich great things. A green- grocer 1 Pack o' garden- stuff! GRAVES— Where's the odds? They don't mind paying on us; aud things ought to be done decent, that's my motto. MUG.— Ay, ay! yott knowa how to gammon. You're up to " Queer- street," Master Graves. ( With a knowing wink.) But, I say, what a jolly day We had of it last Thuzday, at old Moneypcnny's, at Rich- mond ! That was somethink like a job! GRAVES— Yes, but the nuss see you out of the winder a- grinning, and took and told the missus of it, and might have made a row, only I said it was Punch a- going by as made you laugh. MUG .— I la, ha, ha! I likes a bit o'fun. Where's the good of a man looking as if his trade didn't agree with him ? GRAVES— Come, I say, no larkin' now. There's them at number height a- lookin' out upon us. Stand square, mate. Mug— Ay, ay, toes out, chin up, and eyes down. What are they at inside with the old ' un, I wonder,, that they ha'nt got him ready fof his close coach yet? Precious dry job this— How I should like a drop o'summat short! I wish Bill would come out; I'd get him to hold my staff, while I run into Barwell's, at tiie corner there. GRAVES— It ar'nt no use just now. You can lush by and by. MUG.— And so I will, my tulip. GRAVES— They say this here cholera morbus Is come to London. MUG.— I'm in the right box, for one. Brandy and ' bacco are the best anecdotes against it GIIAVES— People makes a great to- do about it;' but it's good for trade. MUG.— Hare you heerd of this new burking busi- ness wot's turned up ? Two old women of Petticoat- lane, a- iour- year- old young ' un belongin' to a ' tatpe* dealer, and a stray blind beggar o' Bethnal- green. GRAVE'S— Shockin' doins, Muggins! Bad fof trade! MUG.— Never was sich times! ( Hiccups.) GUAVES— Another bad look- out, Muggins, is this here rum start of people a- givin1 up theireelves arter they're dead into the hands of them their cuttin' coves, the surgeons. There's a harmy man, Colonel Jones, and Mister Mathews, the play- hactor man,— let alone a Royal Duke, and a lot besides. I suppose they want to do the undertaker. I dunnow what people thinks, but / call it cheatin' the honest tradesman, that's all. MUG.— Mortal long job this! I take it the old chap must have left a bit o' money now, or there wouldn't be sich a posse on- ' em inside, and pack o' ceremony. GRAVES— Here's Sadboy come out to call up the coaches. Muo.— That's your sort, Sadboy,— tip ' em the office, for it's time to be toddlin", my trump. Here's the hearse- cattle will get the rheumatiz. Confound that there old woman over the way; she's a squintin' at us still. ( Makes a face at her.) GRAVES— Come, no larkin now, Muggins. Fudge up your funeral face. ( The coaches draw up, the door opens,' the mourners are conducted into their seats, and the. procession gravely moves on.)— Original. CRABBE, THE POET. Crabbe came to Trowbridge some eighteen years. ago: at first, he was but lightly looked upon by the Dissenters, a numerous body there; but when they became acquainted with his worth of heart, and vigour of mind, and his unwearied kindness to the poor of all persuasions, he grew a great favourite, and was warmly welcomed to all missionary meetings, Bible societies, and other associations for the benefit of the labouring classes. He mixed but little with the gen- try around hiin; the houses to which he chiefly resorted as a friend, was to that of Mr. Waldron, his colleague in the magistracy, and that of Mr. Nor- ris Clarke, an eminent clothier; with every one else he was friendly, but not intimate. He was fond of the exercise of long walks, and as he studied geology, he seldom went out without a hammer in his pocket, which he applied to all kinds of curious stones; he was sometimes in danger during these examinations, for he would stop readily in the middle of the public road, to pry into the merits of a fractured stone, and did not always hear the warnings of drivers of coaches and carts. On one occasion, he went with his son John to Avon- cliffe, about four miles from Trowbridge, tied the horse to a crag, ascended to the quarry, and commenced hammering away. In turning over a stone, however, it escaped from his hands, rolled down the declivity with suclta noise, as frighteued the horse, and made it run away and smash the gig. Ho looked after it for a little while, and when ha saw it stopped, he smiled and said, " Well, it might have been worse." His income amounted to about eight hundred a year, but he was a mild man in the matter of tithes: when told of many defaulters, his usual reply was, " Let it be,— probably they cannot afford to pay so well as I can afford to want it,— let it be." His charitable nature was so well known, that he was regularly vi- sited by mendicants of all grades; he listened to their long stories of wants and woes with some impatience, and when they persevered, he would say, " God save you all, I can do no more for you," and so shut the door. But the wily wanderers did not on this depart;. they knew the nature of the man; he soon sallied out in search of them, and they generally got a more li- beral present on the way from his house, than at tho door. He has even been known to search obscure lodging- houses in Trowbridge, to relieve the sufferers whom misfortunes had driven to beggary. He was, of course, often imposed upon by fictitious tales of woe, which, when he discovered, he merely said, " God forgive them ; I do." Crabbe was particularly anxious about the educa- tion of the humbler classes, and gave much of his time to its furtherance. In his latter days, the Sunday- school was his favourite place of resort, and there he was commonly to be found in the evenings, between seven and eight, listening to the children; " I lovo them much," he once observed, " and now old age has made ine a fit companion for them." He was a great favourite with the scholars,— on their leaving school, he gave them Bibles a- piece, and admonished them respecting their future conduct. His health was usually good, though he sometimes suffered from the tic dolounux. His sermons were short, but pointed, and to the purpose ; but his voice latterly had failed, and he was imperfectly heard. Not long ago he met a poor old woman in the street, whom he had for some time missed from the church, and asked her if she had been ill. " Lord bless you, sir, no," was the answer ; " but it's of no use going to your church, for I can't hear you." " Very well, my good old friend," said the pastor, " you do right in going where you can hear " aud he slipped half- a- crown into her haod, and went away. He wu only one week ill; on the night before he died, he said to a maid- serrant who had lived long with him, " Now, in the morning, 4 when I am dead, go you to bed, and let others do what must be done,— but while I am living, stay you beside me." He was universally esteemed, and as a proof of it, one hundred of his fellow townsmen re- quested leave to attend hia funeral. - Athenceum. THE FOOT- PATH. Path of the quiet fields! that oft of yore Call'd me ftt morn, on Shenstone's page to pore ; Oh, poor man's footpath ! where," at evening's close," He stopp'd, to pluck the woodbine and the rose, Shaking the dew- drops from the wild- briar bowers, That stoop'd beneath their load of summer flowers, Then ev'd the west, still bright with fading flame, As whistling homeward by the wood he came} Sweet dewy, stinny, flowery footpath, thou Atl gone for ever, like the poor man's cow! No more the wandering townsman's Sabbath smile, Nrt more the hedger, waiting on the stile For tardy Jane ; no more the muttering hard, Slnrtling the heifer, near tho lone farm- yard ; No more the pious youth, with book in hand, Spelling the words he fain would understand, Shall bless thy mazes, when the village bell Sounds o'er the river, soften'd up the dell. 13ut from the parlour of the loyal inn, The Great Unpaid, who cannot error sin, Shall see well pleas'd, the pomp of Lawyer Ridge, And poor Squire Grub's 6tarv'd maids, and dandy bridge, Where youngling fishers, in the grassy lane, Purloin'd their tackle from the brood- mare's mane, And truant urchins, by the river's brink, Caught the fledged throstle as it stoop'd to drink, Or with the ramping colt, all joyous, play'd, Or scar'd the owlet in the blue- belled shade. Splendid Village. STEALING A JUDGE. The custom of stealing away town- bailies and councillors, so as to baiilk the election of a particular member of Parliament, and which is of no very rare occurrence in Scotland, meets with a parallel in early periods of our history, in tlvc abduction of persons of considerable influence in the state or on the bench. An incident of this nature, illustrative of the former unsettled 6tate of the couotry may here be related for the amusement of my readers:— " In the reign of Charles I., when the moss- troop- ing practices were not entirely discontinued, the tower of Gilnockie, in the parish of Cannoby, was occupied by William, or Willie Armstrong, a lineal descendant of the famous John Armstrong of Gilnockie, executed by James V. The hereditary love of plunder had descended to this person with the family mansion; and, upon some marauding party, he was seized and imprisoned in the tolboolh of Jedburgh. The Earl of Traquair, Lord High Treasurer, happening to visit Jedburgh, and knowing this border moss- trooper, in- quired the cause of his confinement. Willie replied, lie was imprisoned for stealing two tethers ( halters); but, upon being more closely interrogated, acknow- ledged there were two delicate colts at the end of them. The joke, such as it was, amused the Earl, who exerted his interest, and succeeded in releasing Willie from bondage Some time afterwards, a law- suit of importance to Lord Traquair was to be decided in the Court of Session, and there was every reason to believe that the judgment would turn upon the voice of the presiding judge, who has a casting vote in case of an equal division among his brethren. The opinion of the President was unfavourable to Lord Traquair; and the point was, therefore, to keep him out of the way when the question should be tried. In this dilemma, the Earl had recourse to Wiliie Arm- strong, who at once offered his service to kidnap the FOLLIES OF THE DAY. GLOUCESTERIANA.— The Duke of G read- ing one of the daily papers observed an extract from the Figaro in London which he declared to be a wonderfully clever work, but, said he, " I never see a paragraph from the Figaro but it is followed by half a dozen others taken from Ibid, which to say the truth must be a very witty periodical."— His royal highness asked the meaning a few days since of the words Ich Dien, appended as a motto to the royal arms, and was told that they were Welsh; " That cannot be," said the Duke, " Itch Dien is Scotch, I'll be sworn, or I knowc nothing of national peculiarities."— The following bon mot by his Majesty is worthy of a place in the records of royal facetiae. William the 4th being told that Bishop Phillpotts had traversed the whole of the French dominions, declared that could not be true, and that there was at least one place in France the Doctor had never visited, " for," ob- served the King, " a person who deals in false asser- tions with the freedom of his Holiness never can be said to have been over Nice." Though no one can desire that the anti- reformers should be imitated, every one will allow that it would be better for the country if they were taken off. It is strange that some of the upholders of the rot- ten borough system should offer any opposition to the anatomy bill, when they have all along so openly practised the sale of bodies corporate. The Duke of G said the other day, he gretted that his brother the King should be friendly to reform ; " for," he observed, " his opinions will be ob- jected to by posterity on the ground of inconsistency, as his Whig principles must appear wrong in the eyes of those who will read his- torxj. SET A TIIIEF TO TAKE A THIEF.— The new pe- riodical called The Thief is a great favourite with the Tories, who take it on account of its nice pickinqs. President. Upon due scrutiny, he found it was the judge's practice frequently to take the air on horse- back on the sands of Leith without an attendant. In one of these excursions, Willie, who had long watched his opportunity, ventured to accost the President, and engage him in conversation. His address and lan- guage were so amusing, that he decoyed the President into an unfrequented and furzy common, called the Figgate Whins, where, riding suddenly up to him, he pulled him from his horse, muffled him in a large cloak which he had provided, and rode oft" with the luckless judge trussed up behind him. Will crossed the country with great expedition, by paths only known to persons of his description, and deposited his weary and terrified burden in an old castle in Annan- dale, called the Tower of Graham. The judge's horse being found, it was concluded he had thrown his rider into the sea ; his friends went into mourning, WEST BY WEST. I know nothing in the annals of impudence which can even approach the following exhibition of that sublime qualification :— West is a name that has flourished for ages in the corporation of Dublin, and iu the silversmith trade. The shop of the family is still extant in the good city. 1 knew the unhappy incumbent who was the subject of the following morceau. An elderly, gentlemanly person, with all the exterior of a military man, drove up in a hackney- coach to Mr. West's shop. He en- tered, and speedily was in the presence of Mr. West. The stranger wore a braided surtout, the right arm of which was Unoccupied, and was suspended in a sling, As though the corresponding limb had been lost in the field of battle. " Mr. West," said the visitor, " my business is briefly this— I am the quarter- master of a regiment that is just coming to replace the troops in Georgp- st'reet barracks. I find that the plate of the regiment i3 packed up, and that our plate will not ar- rive for a fortnight. 1 wish to engage somo plate from you ; and as the quantity will not be small, I am satis- fied to deposit a couple of hundred pounds for the use of a certain number of articles to be delivered imme- diately, as the officers are to be here this night." Mr. West expressed the liveliest gratification at the pro- posal, and stated that he would be but too happy to comply witli it. " The fact is," said the soi- disant officer, " my own name is West,— and as 1 am a stranger in the city, knowing nothing of its inhabit- ants, 1 could not hesitate in giving my namesake the preference ou this occasion. Pray what is your Chris- tian name?" " James." " Ah then, there is the dif- ference, mine is Jacob." The silver articles were quickly packed up and placed in the coach, the bill was made out of the amount, it was under 200/., but the stranger insisted upon leaving that sum as a deposit. Upon feeling in every pocket, and every crevice of his garments, he made the sad discovery that he had left his purse at the hotel, where he had just parted from his lady; but this was merely an accident which could soon be rectified, for he would dispatch a message, forthwith, to his wife, who would instantly send the money, whilst he waited where he was until it arrived. This was all apparently fair, and the silversmith never en- tertained the slightest suspicion of any thing wrong. The stranger, looking to the side where the arm was deficient, begged as a favour, that Mr. West would take paper and pcu, and write to the stranger's dicta- tion, for 200/., to his wife. The man of silver accord- ingly wrote, as he was directed, in the following terms:— " My dear Wife,— Do not be surprised at this extra- ordinary note; but a strange accident has occurred, which renders it necessary that I should immediately deposit two hundred pounds, to be afterwards paid back, and I beg that you will give that amount to the bearer who waits. " Yours ever, " J. WEST." The servant of the stranger instantly started with the note, and the two Wests remained in pleasant conversation, laughing at the oddities nf those persons who are so absent as to leave their purses at home. Time fled :— a couple of hours passed, and no servant appeared with an answer. The quarter- master, in the highest indignation, caused the silver articles to be brought back from the coach, and carefully exa- mined to see that all was right,— cursed his servant over and over,— and swore that this was not the first time that the scoundrel had played him a similar trick. The goods were faithfully and honestly restored to the silversmith, and the stranger took his departure, with the assurance that he would return the next morning. Now for the denouement of this wonderful plot. The fellow who acted as principal in this affair, knew that West, the silversmith, lived in the country, and that his wife kept all his money. All he wanted, therefore, was the order for the 200/., which, we have seen, was in West's own handwriting, was written upon an apparently singular occasion, and was in effect fully paid as if it was a bond Jide order when presented, by the pretended servant, who was no more than an accomplice.. The letter J. added to West served for James as well as Jacob,— but by adopting the latter, the swindler disarmed suspicion.— Town, i A LONG WALK.— We all know Mathews's joke of the Chelsea pensioner, who could not move on when ordered by the police at the Lord Mayor's show, as his timber- toe had got fixed in a water- plug; but that there is nothing which fancy can imagine in the world, not surpassed by reality, the following true nar- ration will show:— A poor fellow, who recently suffered the amputation of a liuib in St. George's Hospital, was turned out cured. Exhilirated by the open air, after a long confinement, he sought a public- house, and, we are sorry to say, got very drunk; in which condition he left it to find his way home. Unluckily for him, his wooden pin, like the pensioner's, disco- vered an open hole in Piccadily; but, unlike the pen- sioner, the driuk made hiin suppose lie could move on notwithstanding. He accordingly performed a revolution with his other leg round the fixed point or pivot, and must have continued at this work some time, for he imagined that he walked about five I miles; till, alas for his perseverance! he was thrown down, and broke his other limb. In this lamentable predicament he was picked up, and re- conveyed to the hospital, after an absence of less than twenty-; lour hours.— Lit. Gaz, and a successor was appointed to his office. Mean- while, the poor President spent a heavy time in the vault of the castle. He was imprisoned, and solitary ; received his food through an aperture in the wall, and never hearing the sound of a human voice, save when a shepherd called his dog by the name of Butt;/, and when a female domestic called upon Maudge, the cat. These, he concluded, were invocations of spirits, for he held himself to be in the dungeon of a sorcerer. At length, after three months had elapsed, the law- suit was decided in favourof Lord Traquair, and Will was directed to set the President at liberty. Accord- ingly, he entered the vault at dead of night, seized the President, muffled him once more in the cloak, without speaking a single word, and using the same mode of transportation, conveyed him to Leith- sands, and set down the astonished judge on the very spot where he had taken him up. The joy of his friends, and the less agreeable surprise of his successor, may be easily conceived, when lie appeared in court to reclaim his office and honours. AH embraced his own persua- sion, that iie had been spirited away by witchcraft; nor could he himself be convinced of the contrary, un- til many years afterwards, happening to travel iu An- nandale, his ears were saluted oncc more with the sounds of Maudge and Batty, the only notes which had solaced his long confinement. This led to a dis- covery of the whole story; but, in these disorderly times, it was only laughed at as a fair'r?< sc de guerre. Wild and strange as this tradition may seem, there is little doubt of its foundation in fact. The judge upon whose person this extraordinary stratagem was prac- tised, was Sir Alexander Gibson, Lord Durie, col- lector of tl le reports well known in the Scottish law Under the title of Durie's Decisions. He was ad- vanced to the station of an ordinary Lord of Session, 10th July, 1621, and died at his own house of Durie, July, 1646."— Chambers's Journal. Lord John Russell, by the invention of his famous purge, has shown himself to be one of the piller* of the state. INFLAMMABLE MATTER.— The Tories declare that the ministerial press was the cause of the incen- diarism last year in several counties. The Times, however, must be acquitted of that charge, for it would be the last paper to recommend setting fire to Barnes.— Figaro in London. Why is the reform bill like a lady fidgetting in a silk gown ?— Because it makes a " Russell- ing noise." The Bishop of Gloucester the other day asked Lord Tenterden whether he could tell him which of the peers reflected most constantly on the tomb " Lord Sc- grave," answered the Chief Justice with perfect readiness. Whyis a drunkard who drinks fast like the Knight of La Mancha ?— Bec. ausc he's a quick- sot. In consequence of his zeal in promoting emigration, a correspondent recommends it to Lord Egremont to1 change his name to Lord Emigrant. What peer must always have wet feet ?— The Mar- quis of Water- ford. Why are there only 46 weeks in this year ?— Be- cause the other six are Lent. In what way is the King continually reminded of his mortality ?— When he signs his name, lie writes his Will.— Satirist. parisian_ fashions. The most fashionable hats are exceedingly small, and it is expected that they will be worn still smaller as the summer advances. Hats of cherry- coloured mpire have been much in favour. They are trimmed with a band of gauze ribbon on one side, and mcn- tonnicres of blonde. Grey, black, and straw- coloured satin or moire are also very generally employed for I hats and bonnets. The most elegant are ornamented I with feathers, either mounted en bouquet, or a single I long feather hanging across the crown of the hat. I Leghorn and paitlc de riz will be much worn this spring. They will be small in size, and trimmed with flowers. Instead of the bandeaux of cheveux lisses on the forehead, which have recently been so generally worn, many ladies now substitute two plaits of hair, with a few light curls above them. A favourite promenade dress for the present season consists of a silk pelisse, accompanied by a boa and muff. There is no novelty in the form of pelisses : the sleeves arc extremely wide at top and narrow towards the wrist, and there is a double pelciin, the lower one crossed on the bosom, and the ends passed through the waistband. We have observed many silk and satin dresses, with pelerins of the same material, the latter edged with points or merely a plain hem. Those ot violet- coloured satin, with the pelerin trimmed with black blonde are remarkably rich and elegant. They have usually been worn with hats of white satin, lined with pink moire. It would be difficult to determine whether the de- signs for summer dresses ( that is to say, printed mus- lins, chaly, & c.) are to be large or small, for they are to be seen of all dimensions. We have observed some muslins with alternate white and coloured 6tripes; these 6tripes being filled up with sprigs or running wreaths of the most fanciful designs. Chintz pat- terns on white grounds also promise to be much in favour. The last new fashionable bonnet imported from Herbault's studio, was the exact model of a custard- cup, with a bulrush stuck on it by way of a feather. The fashions for 1832 are accurately copied from those of " Les Anglaises pour rire," in the carica- tures of 1814.— Court Journal. A GUILTY CASE Of PUNNING,— Beazley had the ill- luck to have a sixpence, imitative of " half a monarch,'' poked on him the other evening, instead of a legitimate half- sovereign. " By Jove, this is too had,' said the wit, " there ought to be an Act of Par- liament, rendering it compulsory on sixpences to be like Czesar's wife." " Why, how so ?" said our friend, Sir Gorge W , who goes to the Gar- rick to swallow good things, " how so, B. ?" " Why," said B., " they ought not only to be free from GILT, but even the suspicion of it." Why ought the Conservation Club beheld in higher respect than any other 1— Because it is the moat merry- tory- house ( meritorious). The only cause which the Whigs have for triumph, is the fact of their having succeeded in gaining a few tueak- torys ( victories). Why is P in the alphabet like the most cruel Ro- man ?— Because its A'ear- O. AN EYE- WITNESS.— Mr. Alexander, the oculist, appeared in court, at a county assize town, to give his evidence. One of the counsel put this question to him: " Pray, sir, were you present when this trans- action took place?" Before Mr. A. could reply, Charles Phillips remarked to his brother Briefivit, " Sure you know well enough he's an e?/ t'- witness." Somebody proposed the Duke's health during his absence from his dinner- table,- the other day, in the following terms :—" The health of our host. 1' Croker, who was of the party, refused to drink it. " Not drink it!" said Sir H. Hardinge. " No!" said Croker, drily; 14 I consider, to call the Duke our host, would be taken by him as an inn- dignity." y- An auctioneer's lady produced her spouse twins, very like each other. Not knowing exactly what to call the small lot, he bethought of christening one I- bid," and the other " Ditto," from his catalogue. — Age. When Lord Brougham was dining with the King at Brighton, he apologized in relating to his Majesty a story of some very notorious criminal with whom the rope broke as he was being hanged, and who, poor devil, was accordingly strung up again till he was dead. " Oh,"' said his Majesty, " it is a true tale; and since the man was so famous, he has well de- served to be re~ corded." At a small town in the North of England, an indi vidual, whose Christian name was Shakspeare, was generally so designated by his familiar acquaintance. ' A cavalry officer, quartered in the town, never hear- ing him called by his surname, whispered to a by- stander, when the person in question was present, " Is that the man who wrote the plays ?" The well- known and popular Paddy R met a friend the other day, who was looking out for a house. " My dear fellow," said R , " I have just found the sort of house you want— exactly the thing for you; you are the luckiest fellow in the world to be so suited." He went on detailing all the wherefores that made out the tenement in question to be the most convenient, & c. for his listening friend, and ended by congratulating him on the trouvadt. " But," said he, " there is one slight circumstance— a trifle— that must be considered : the house is inha- bited by a rich old woman, who is so partial to it, the d 1 himself would not get her to move out!" In the illness of the President of the Council, the French joke has been, if Cusimir dies, the King will be sans- culottes.— Town. HEROIC VIRTUE.— Captain Vicente Moreno, who was serving with the mountaineers of Ronda, was made prisoner, carried to Granada, and there had the alternative proposed of suffering by the hangman, or entering into the intruder's service. Moreno's wife and four children were, by the General's orders, brought to him when he was upon the scaffold, to sec if their entreaties would shake their resolution ; but Moreno, with the courage of a martyr, bade her j withdraw, and teach her sons to remember the ex- I ample which he was about to give them, and to serve i their country, as he had done, honourably and duti- j fully to the last. This murder provoked a public re- taliation which the Spaniards seldom exercised, but, j when they did, upon a tremendous scale.— Southey's j Peninsular War. | Treating at elections is not unknown even in the re- publican atmosphere of America; but is carried on in a humbler way than with us. " Sir ( said an old woman to a canvasser), I gucss Mr. A. is the fittest man of the two, but t'other whiskies the best." — Vinc^— / A Lincolnshire man observed in company, that in ' some parts of the county of Lincoln the soil was so prolific, that if you turned a horse into a new- mown field at night, the grass would be grown up to his fetlock joints next morning! " Pslia!" says a Yorkshireman, ' if you turn a horse into a new- mown field at night, in our county, you can't find him next morning!" — Original. BRAIN OF TIIE ELEPHANT.— His head I had an opportunity of seeing the next day when I had it opened, and the smallness of the. brain is a direct contradiction to the hypothesis that the size of this organ is in proportion to the sagaciousness of the animal. — Denham and Clapperton's Discoveries in Africa. PUZZLE FOR A POET. — It is said ' of Lops de Vega, that he was once asked by the Bishop of Beller to explain one of his sonnets, which the bishop said he had often read but never understood. Lope took up the sonnet, and after reading it over and over several times, frankly acknowledged that he did not under- stand it himself, FRENCH EFFECT. — M. Dutens tells us, in his " Memoires d'un Voyageur que se Repose," that as he received the cruel intelligence of the loss of his mistress in the presence of five or six girls who had been bred at. the same school with her, he could not do less than dash his head against the wall in order to gain their admiration as the victim of excessive attachment.— Literary Guardian. ABSENCE.— The old Earl of Warwick, who was famous for fits of absence, travelled up to London one evening from Warwick Castle on important business, which he settled to his satifaction the following day, and returned again in the night. He had hardfy reached home, when he fainted. All the family were alarmed, and asked his valet if his lord had been ill London. " No," replied the man, " he has been very well; but I really believe that he has forgotten to eat ever since he was away." This was actually the case, and a plate of soup soon restored his lordship to his accustomed health.— Tour of a German Prince, Vol. IV. SIR WALTER SCOTT.— At the sale of an anti- quarian gentleman's effects in Roxburghshire, which Sir Walter Scott happened to attend, there was one little article, a Roman patera, which occasioned a goid deal of competition, and was eventually knocked down to the distinguished Baronet at a high price. Sir Walter was excessively amused, during the time of the bidding, to observe how much it excited the astonishment of an old woman, who had evidently come there to buy culinary utensils on a more economical principle. " If the parritch- pan," she at length burst out, " if the parritch- pan gangs at that, what will the kail- pat gang for?" " What do you think of A. B. C.' s last novel ?" " Think!" says a brother author—" How can you ask ? The man has some talent in his own way, but when he aims at the higher touches of pathos or eloquence, he fails. The book, on the whole, is stupid." " And vot do you think, Jim, of that era new cove vot cum to sweep the crossing at Charing- cross ?" " Think !" replies the brother brush—" Vy, he may be a decentish cove enough at a plain street, or sitch— but try him a. sweeping round a corner or a lamp- post, and ye'll see ho han't the touch of us old Vestminster hauds."— Court Journal. LORD KAIMES. — A great number of years ago, a German quack, who called himself Baron Von Haak, vaunted of having discovered a powerfully fer- tilizing manure, which he advertised for sale, pre- tending that a very small quantity sufficed to fertilize an acre of land in a very extraordinary manner. Happening to converse with one of his neighbours upon this subject, a plain sagacious farmer, the former ob- served to Lord Kaimes, that he had no faith in the Baron's nostrum, as he conceived the proposed quantity vastly too small to be of any use. " My good friend," said Lord Kaimes " such are the wonderful dis- coveries in science, that I should not be surprised if, at some future time, we might be able to carry the manure of an acre of land to the field in our coat pocket!" " Very possibly," replied the farmer; " but, in that case, 1 suspect you will be able to bring back the crop in your waistcoat pocket." INTESTINAL WARDROBE.— An ancestor of Sir Walter Scott joined the Pretender, and, with his brother, was engaged in that unfortunate adventure, which ended in a skirmish and captivity at Preston, 1715. It was the fashion of those times for all persons of the rank of gentlemen to wear scarlet waistcoats. A ball had struck one of the brothers, and carried a part of liis dress into his body ; and in this condition lie was taken prisoner, with a number of his com- panions, and stripped, as was too often the practice in these remorseless civil wars. Thus wounded, and nearly naked, having only a shirt on, and an old sack about him, the ancestor of the great poet was sitting, along with his brother and a hundred and fifty unfor- tunate gentlemen, in a granary at Preston. The wounded man fell sick, as the story goes, and vomited the scarlet, which the ball had forced into the wound; " Oh man, Wattie!'' cried his brother, " if you havo got a wardrobe in your wame, I wish you would vomit m « a pair of breeks, for I have ineikle need of them." The wound afterwards healed. AMERICAN TITLES.— Human nature will out. In the absence of other titles, it is the pleasure of the Americans that they should be dignified by the rank of general, colonel, or aide de- camp; but mors espe- cially I found by that of major. An English gentleman assured me that, being on board a steamer on the Ohio river, he was first introduced by a friend as plain Mr., then a3 captain ; soon after he was ad- dressed as major, and before the end of the day ho was formally introduced as a general. There is usually a major, or an aide, as they call themselves, in every stage- coach company. The captain of a steam- boat, who was presiding at the dinner table, happened to ask rather loudly, " General, a little fish!" and was immediately answered in tho affirma- tive by twenty- five out of the thirty gentlemen who were present.— Vigne's Six Months in America. AMERICAN HIGHLANDERS.— One morning I was much amused by the debut of a new volunteer corps, calling themselves tho Highlanders,— Wash- ington being one of the flattest places in the States The dress would have looked well enough hnd it been uniform, but I was told there was not plaid enough of the same pattern to be obtained in the city. The bonnet had a very theatrical appearance, and would not have been half so bad, had not the eye been attracted by the waistcoat and tho broad lacings of the coat, all of which were of a very dark sky- blue. I have a great respect for the tartan ; and I thought it might have looked decent, even when converted, as it was, into small- clothes, had they not been made extremely tight. Still, however, the costume of the nether man might have passed unnoticed, had not the enormous bows at the knees been composed of tri- coloured ribbon, and the general effect much height- ened by the long nankeen gaiters, which covered the leg from the knee to the shoe.— Vigne's Six Months in America. LORD MAYOR'S DINNER.— It lasted full six hours, and six hundred people were present. The tables were set parallel from the top to the bottom of the hall, with the exception of one which was placed across it at the top. At this the Lord Mayor him- self and his most distinguished guests were seated. The coup- d'ceil from hence was imposing ;— the vast hall and its lofty columns, the tables extending fur- ther than the eye could reach, and the huge mirrors behind them, so that they seemed prolonged to in- finity. The brilliant illumination turned night into day; and two bands of music, in a balcony at the end of the hall opposite to us, played during the toasts, which were all of a national character. The Lord Mayor made six- and- twenty speeches, long and short, well and truly counted. A foreign diplomate also ventured upon one, but with very bad success ; and had it not been for the good nature of the au- dience, who called out " Hear, hear!" every time he was at fault, till he had collected himself again, he must have stuck fast, and so remained. At every toast which the Lord Mayor gave, a sort of master of the- ceremonies, decorated with a silver chain, who stood behind his chair, called aloud, " My lords and gentlemen, fill your glasses." The ladies were fright- fully dressed, and with a tournure to match.— Ger- man Prince. A SPANISH GUERILLA.— In La Mancha, one adventurer raised himself to respectability and rank by his services, though known by the unpromising appel- lation of El Chaleco. Francisco Abad Moreno was his name. He began bis career as a common soldier, and escaping from some rout joined company with two fugitives of his own regiment, and began war upon his own account Their first exploit was to kill an enemy's courier and his escort; and shortly afterwards, having added two recruits to his number, he presented to the Marquess of Villafranca, at Murcia, five carts laden with tobacco, quicksilver, and plate, which he had taken from the French, and the ears of thirteen Frenchmen who had fallen by their hands! His party increased as his name became known ; and he cut off great numbers of the enemy, sometimes in Murcia, sometimes in La Mancha, intercepting th- ir convoys and detachments. Showing as little mercy as he looked for, and expecting as little as he showed, he faced with desperate or ferocious courage the danger from which there was no escape by flight, swimming rivers when swollen by rain, or employing any means that might give him the victory. On one occasion he broke a troop of the French by discharging a blunderbuss loaded with five- and- thirty bullets ; it brought down nine of the enemy, according to his own account, and he received so severe a contusion on the shoulder from the recoil, that it entirely disabled him lor a time; but tho party was kept together under his second^ in command, Juan de Bacas, and its re- putation enhanced by greater exploits.— Southey. THEChRISTIAN MARTYR..—" Apply the torture, dislocate his limbs, and let him feel a rebel's punish- ment."—" The order was promptly obeyed, and Da- ciau had both the gratification to witness, and the barbarity to deride, the agonies of the sufferer." The latter 6aid with calm composure—" I have always wished for an opportunity of proving my attachment to the religion of Christ; thou hast given it me, and I am content."—" Mad with rage, the governor ( Dacian) struck tho executioners because they could not force a single groan from their victim."—' What,' exclaimed the sufl'erer, with the most ( to his persecu- tors) provoking coolness, ' dost thou, too, wish to avenge me of these brutal men.' " Dacian now foamed at the mouth, and roared rather than spoke, cannot you extort one cry of pain from this man, ye who have so often bent the most stubborn malefac- tors ! Is he thus to triumph ever us ?"—" Sharper instruments were now brought, the flesh of the Chris- tian were torn from his bones, and his whole body pre- sented the appearance of one vast wound. For a mo- ment even the savage Dacian was, or appeared to be, softened. ' Young Christian,' said he, ' hast thou no pity for thyself? In the flower of thine age, canst thou not be persuaded to avoid so horrible a death by one act of submission !' ' Thy feigned sympathy,' replied the other with the same unshaken tranquillity, affects me as little as the exquisite torment thou causest me to feel. I will not deny my Maker for thy idols of wood and stone. Thy perseverance will fail sooner than my constancy.'— The victim was next laid on an iron bed, the surface of which was covered with sharp projecting points, and a 6low fire placed under it. His body was pressed against the spikes, boiling liquids were poured into his wounds, his bones were crushed by blows with iron bars; in short, every species of torture was employed that hellish cunning could devise. Still the heroic sufferer murmured not. At length his mangled limbs having been dashed on a bed of sharp flints, he felt that the momeut of his deliverance was at hand. In vain did the tyrant order hiin to be laid on a comfortable couch, and every effort made to restore him, that on his recovery human ingenuity might be taxed for the invention of new torments ; in a few hours he expired."— Tales of Early Ages. AMERICAN NOTIONS OF ENGLAND. I will give the minutes of a conversation which I once set down after one of their visits, as^ a specimen of their tone and manner of speaking and thinking. My visitor was a milkman. " Well now, so you be from the old country ? Ay — you'll see sights here, I guess." " I hope I shall see many." " That's a fact. 1 expect your little place of / an island don't grow such dreadful fine corn as you sees here 1" " It grows no corn at all, sir." " Possible! no wonder, then, that we read such awful 6tories in the papers of your poor people being stai ved to death." " We have wheat, however." " Ay, for your rich tolks, but I calculate the poor seldom gets a belly full." " You have certainly much greater abundance here." " I expect so. Why they do say, that if a poor body contrives to be smart enough to scrape together a few dollars, that your King George always comes down upon ' em, and takes it all away. Don't he?" " I do not remember heariug of such a transac- tion.'' " I guess they be pretty close about it. Your pa- pers ben't like ourn, 1 reckon? Now we says and prints just what we likes." " You spend a good deal of time in reading the newspapers." " And I'd like you to tell me how we can spend it better. How should freemen spend their time, but looking after their government, and watching that them fellers as we give offices to doos their duty, und gives themselves no airs 1" " But I sometimes think, sir, that your fences might be iu more thorough repair, and your roads in better order, if less time was spent iu politics." " The Lord ! to see how little you knows of a free country? Why, what's the smoothness of a road, put against the freedom of a free- born American? And what does a broken zig- zag signify, comparable to knowing that the men what we have been pleased to send up to Congress, speaks handsome and straight, as we c. hooses they should V " It is from a sense of duty, then, that you all go to the liquor store to read the papers?" " To lie sure it is, and he'd be no true born Ameri- can as didn't. I don't say that the father of a family should always be after liquor, but I do say that I'd rather have my son drunk three times in a week, than not look after the affairs of his country."— Mrs. Trollope. TIIE BEAUTY OF VIRTUE.—- The following fine reflection is to be found in the life of Lord Herbert of Cherbury:— Every body lov es the virtuous, whereas the vicious do scarce love one another." ANOTHER TERRIBLE LETTER FROM SCOTLAND. COMMUNICATED BY TIIE ETTRICK SIIEPHEUD. [ This is the moat hideous letter of all. " We wish the writer may be quite in his right mind. But save in a little improvement in the orthography and grammar, we shall give it in his own words.] Sir,— Although 1 sent the following narrative to an Edinburgh newspaper, with the editor of which I was well acquainted, yet he refused to give it publicity, on the ground that it was only a dream of the imagination : but if a man cannot be believe. l in what he hears and sees, what is he to be believed i n ? Therefore, as I am told that you have great influence with the printers in London, I will thank you to get this printed; and if you can get me a trille for it, so much the better. I am a poor journeyman tradesman in the town ofFisherrow, and I always boarded with my mother and two sisters, who were all in the trade ; but my mother was rather fond of gossiping and visiting, and liked to get a dram now and then. So when that awful plague of cholera came on us for the punishment of our sins, my mother would be run- ning to every one that was affected ; and people were very glad of her assistance, and would be giving her drams and little presents; and for all that my sisters and I could say to her, she would not be hindered. " Mother," said I to her, one night," gin ye winna leave aff rinning to infectit houses this gate, I'll be obliged to gang away an' leave ye an' shift for mysel' some gate else; an' my sisters shall gang away an' leave ye too. Do ye 110 consider, that ye are exposing the whole o' your family to the most terrible of deaths ; an' if ye should bring infection among us, an' lose us a', how will ye answer to God for it ?"' brother, lie still and sleep till your Redeemer wakes you— we will come for you again." I then felt the house fall a- wheeling round with me, swifter than a mill- wheel, the bed sank, and I fell I knew not whither. The truth is, that I had fainted, for I remember no more until next day. As I did not go to work at my usual time, my mas- ter had sent his ' prentice- boy to inquire about me, thinking I had been attacked by cholera. He found me insensible, lying bathed in cold sweat, and sent some of the official people to ine, who soon brought me to my myself. I said nothing of what 1 had seen ; but went straight to the church- yard, per- suaded that I would find my sisters graves open, and they out of them ; but, behold ! they were the same as I left them, and I have never seen mother or sisters more. I could almost have persuaded myself that I had been in a dream, had it not been for the loss of my mother; but as she has not been seen or heard of since that night, I must believe all that I saw to have been real. 1 know it is suspect- ed both here and in Edinburgh that she has been burked, as she was always running about by night; but I know what I saw, and must believe in il though I cannot comprehend it. Yours most humbly, — Metropolitan. JAMES M'L " Hout, Jamie, my man, ye make aye sic a wark about naething ! " quoth she; " I am sure ye ken an' believe that we arc a' in our Maker's hand, and that he can defend us frae destruction that walkdth : it noonday, and from the pcstilence that stealeth in by night ? " " fallow that, mother," quoth I; " I dinna mis- believe in an overruling Providence. But in the present instance, you are taking up an adder, and trusting in Providence that the serpent winna sting you and yours to death." " Tush! Away wi'your grand similitudes, Jamie," said she; ". j- e were aye owcr- learned for me. I'll tell ye what I believe. It is, that if we be to take the disease an' dee in it, we'll take the disease an' dee in it; and if it is otherwise ordained, we'll neither take it nor dee in it: for my part, I ken fu' weel that I'll no be smittit, for the wee drap drink, whilk ye ken I always take in great moderation, will keep me frae taking the infection; an'if ye keep yoursels a' tight an' clean, as ye hae done, the angel o' Egypt will still pass by your door an' hurt you not." " I wot weel," said my sister Jane, " I expect every day to be my last, for my mither will take nae body's advice but her ain. An' weel do I ken that if 1 take it I'll dee in it. I hae the awfu'est dreams about it ! I dreamed the last night that I dee'd o' the plague, an' 1 thought I set my head out o' the cauld grave at midnight, an'saw the ghosts of a' the cholera fok gaun trailing about the kirk- yard wi' their white withered faces an' their glazed cen; an' I thought I crap out o' my grave an' took away my mother and brother to see them, an' I had some kind o' impression that 1 left Annie there behind ine." " O! for mercy's sake, haud your tongue, lassie," cried Annie; " I declare ye gar a' my flesh creep to hear you. It is nae that I'm ony feard for death in ony other way but that. But the fearsome an' loathsome sufferings, an' the fearsome looks gars a' ane's heart grue to think o . An* yet our inither rins the hale day frae ane to aoither, and seems to take a pleasure in witnessing their cries, their writh- ings, and contortions. I wonder what kind o' heart she lias; but it fears me it canna be a right ane." My poor dear sister Annie ! she fell down in the cholera the next day, and was a corpse before mid- night ; and, three days after, her sister followed her to the kirk- yard, where their new graves rise side by side thegither among many more. To describe their sufferings is out of my power, for the thoughts of them turns me giddy, so that I lose the power of measuring time, sometimes feeling as if I had lost my sisters only as it were yesterday, and sometimes an age ago. From the moment that Annie was seized, my state of mind has been deplorable ; 1 expected every hour to fall a victim to it myself: but as for my mother, she bustled about as if it had been some great event in which it behoved her to make an imposing figure. She scolded the surgeon, the officers of the Board of Health, and even the poor dying girls, for their unearthly looks and cries. " Ye hae muckle to cry for," cried she ; " afore ye come through what I hae done in life, ye'll hae mair to cry for nor a bit cramp i' the stomach." When they both died she was rather taken short, and expressed herself as if she weened that she had not been fairly dealt with by Providence, consider- ing how much she had done for others; but she had that sort of nature in her that nothing could daunt or dismay, and continued her course— running to visit every cholera patient within her reach, and go- ing out and coming in at all times of the night. After nine or ten days, there was one Sabbath night that I was awoke by voices which I thought J knew; and on looking over the bed, I saw my two sisters sitting one on each side of my mother, conversing with hcr,* whUe she was looking fearfully first to the one and then to the other; but I did not understand their language, for they seemed to be talking keenly of a dance. THE EMIGRANT IN CANADA. Having made my purchases, and collected my bag- gage, I again turned my face to the wilderness, and once more I stood at home and alone. My house, however, now looked more comfortable, lumbered up with boxes and tools, and I felt a positive pleasure in lying once more uifder my own roof tree. I had by this time acquired some knowledge of handling an axe, and was able to cut my ( ire- wood with ease. Accord- ingly, as I felt it an accession of power, I became quite delighted with my new talent: the clearing of the axe in the wood was music to my cars, and a clean chip the utmost of my ambition. The Ameri- can axe differs in shape from any tool I have ever seen in England ; it is shorter from the pole to the edge than the English felling axe, and is thicker at the shoulder, acting as a smooth wedge to throw out the chip, or split up a log; the handle, made of hickory or elin, is cut with a curve, and a knot at the end to hinder it slipping from the hand. One stroke is made straight from the shoulder, and the other by whirling the axe round the head : the momentum it acquires by this motion, without much exertion of strength, drives it into the wood. The difficulty is to make the cuts all at the same place, and at the proper slope: but all this is speedily acquired by practice. Three or four days after my return, as I was saunter- ing along the beach, 1 found the wreck of an old wooden canoe. This appeared to me to be repair- able ; I therefore employed that afternoon in getting her hauled ashore. I first filled up her chinks with slips of wood as nearly as possible, and then caulked her with an old pair of trowsers and moss. I had found, in one of my wanderings, a little knot of pines ( a scarce tree in our neighbourhood), and by tapping them I obtained a little turpentine, with which I smeared her. 1 launched her— she floated, something lob- sided, to be sure— but that was a trifle. I cut a paddle, and took a cruise in her directly. I provided a safe place for her, sheltered from the northerly swells. I soon found a use for lier; I went to a neighbour's, and brought dow n in her some boards: with these 1 formed a loft to my little house, over the seams of which 1 laid long strips of cedar bark, which 1 peeled off the trees. This, I expected, would pre- vent currents of cold air from rushing from above in the winter. Into this loft I removed most of my boxes. I split a slab from a beech log, and made a tolerable chair. I was going to the luxury of stuffing it, but I did not get so far. Two or three boards made me an excellent table and a shelf. I cut two hooks out of wood, and hung up my gun, and, as the evenings drew on, by a blazing fire 1 looked round me with in- creased content. I usually rose at half- past four, and rolled the fire together, got my breakfast at once, as I have always thought it a great preservative against the ague, eating before going out. The mornings now, the middle and latter end of September, were very sharp— strong white frosts— though the middle of the day was yet very hot. I found it comfortable to keep fires all night, and began to find it tedious to carry my fire- wood home on my shoulder; I therefore one day felled twelve or fourteen fine beech, or maple, and chopping them into twelve feet lengths, borrowed a yoke of oxen, and dragged them to my door. This was my first essay in driving a team, and terrible work I had with them. Among the logs, and in one or two clear parts, the French squatter had planted some few potatoes and pumpkins; these I prepared to house. My potatoes I stowed in a small cellar I had dug un- der my house for the winter. The tall ugly weeds having all died away, had left my ground glowing, like the garden of the Hesperides, with golden- lined pumpkins; these I piled into a large heap, and two or three tedious days I had collecting them, two being as many as I could carry by the rough and prickly stalk. I about this time increased my family by a young puppy, which a neighbour spared me, a pig I previously held, and a cat. As frequently a fortnight would elapse without a person entering my secluded clearing, we became inseparable companions. If I went out to chop, my whole family would follow, the pig rooting about for pig- nuts, while the dog and cat would play among the wood ; and I, sometimes lay- ing down my axo, would call one or the other of my subjects to a more particular confcrence, to which call the pig was never the least obedient. My neigh- bour's Indian corn- field about this time suffered very much from the nightly ravagrs of a large bear ; we watched for him 6ome time without success; but one unfortunate night for him we put a limit to his farther proceedings, by three or four balls being lodged in his I carcase. The weather, now the latter end of October I and November, became most beautiful. It was that season called here the Indian summer. A haziness prevails throughout the air, which is tempered by a gentle and equable heat. Rain falls but seldom iu the day- time; refreshing showers frequently occur during the night, and with the rising sun the very autumnal hues of the fast- falling leaves seem imbued • with a springy freshness. The American forests, in the fall season, are perhaps in the height of their glory; the golden hue of one tree- is relieved against the still dark green of another; the brown crisp leaf of the beech shows in relief by the side of a grove of cedars, while the whole is positively enlightened by the glowing red of a species of maple. The transitions from the dreary decay of a patch of deciduous trees to the pineries, or other evergreens, render a walk through the woods, at this time, more impressive and varied than at any other.— Netu Monthly. A FASHIONABLE PARTY.— 1 drove to a party at the Duke of Clarence's, where there was, this time, such a genuine English squeeze, that I and several others could by no means get in ; and went away, after waiting half an hour, " re infectfi," to console ourselves at another ball. The mass in the first room was 60 jammed together that several men put on their hats, that they might have their arms more at liberty for active service. Ladies, covered with jewels, were regularly " milled," and fell, or rather stood, fainting: cries, groans, curses, and sighs, were the only sounds to be heard. Some only laughed ; and, inhuman as it was, I must accuse myself of having been among these latter; for really it was too droll to hear this called society. To say truth, I never saw any thing equal to it before.— German Prince. My sisters having both been buried in their Sun- day clothes, and the rest burnt, the only impression I had was, that they had actually come alive and risen from the grave; and if I had not been naked at the time I would have llown to embrace them, for there were reports of that kind going. But when I began to speak, Jane held up her hand and shook lier head : it me; and I held my peace, for there was a chillness and terror came over me ; yet it was not fcfr my sisters, for they had no appearance of being ghosts : on the contrary, I thought I never saw them look so beautiful. They continued talk- ing of their dance with apparent fervour; and I heard one of them saying, it was a dance of death, and held in the church- yard. And as the plague of cholera was a breath of hell, they who died of it got no rest in their graves, so that it behoved all, but parents in particular, to keep out of its influences till the vapour of death passed over. " But now, clear mother, you must go with us and see," said Annie. " Oh, by all means !" said Jane, " since you have introduced us into such splendid company, you must go with us, and see how we act our parts." " Come along, come along," cried both of them at the same time; and they led my mother off between them : she never spoke, but continued to fix the most hideous looks first on the one and then on the other. She was appurently under the power of some su pernatural influence, for she manifested no power of resistance, but walked peaceably away between them. I cried with a tremulous voice, " Dear, dear sisters, will you not take me with you too? " But Annie, who was next me, said, " No, dearest A ROW IN AMERICA; Having heard that a man- of- war was expected at Wilmington to embark the prisoners, I and my friend, who had got some new rigging over his mast- head, and who looked, when washed and shaved, a very credi- table skipper, bent our steps towards Charlestown, and then proceeded onwards to Wilmington. On my ar- rival there, we contracted for a week's lodging each, washing and feeding included, for three dollars and a half, with brandy- and- water at discretion. Two days afterwards, the Manly, a ten- gun brig, arrived. The prisoners had been collected to the amount of some twenty, all of whom had heard of my sharing my money about eighty times, and all likewise responding to the oft- told talc by acclamations of satisfaction. I was a great favourite, and heard all their misfortunes with an attentive ear and often moist eyes. Some were perfectly ruined by their capture ; some drooped at the frown of fortune, whilst others laughed at their calamities as events in life always to bo expected, and never half so bad as they appeared. Amongst this group was a Russian, a man of about six feet six in height; a perfect Hercules, and as well- formed as an Apollo. He always took me under his protection, whilst my old friend followed me with the attachment of Tom Pipes to Peregrine Pickle. The day being fixed for the sailing of the Manly, the prisoners thought it right to give a diuner to the principal inha- bitants, in return for the many favours they had re- ceived at their bauds. I believe 1 may say, without fear of contradiction, that throughout the war the pri- soners were treated with every kindness by their trans- atlantic loes. The table was amply spread. In Ame- rica, especially in these parts, the dinner usually con- sists of good wholesome joints: none of your disguised shoes stewed in baans, as elsewhere. Turkeys, hams, & c. are in profusion : arid down we sat, about fifty in number, all resolving to have a pleasant party, ex- pressly excluding all political or national songs. In short, no dinner party ever promised better. We were in the very height of good temper; some at their restoration to liberty ; some at the prospect of future smiles from fortune; and some, who had been all their lives buffeting their foes and the waves, at the prospect of a return home to their fathers' firesides, the embraces of their wives, or the affection of their sisters. After dinner, toast upon toast succeeded in rapid regularity : there was 110 flinching allowed; and, to give Jonathan his due, he seemed by no means disinclined to share the " poison of the nectar'd bowls." A number of songs had been sung, and I had managed to squeak through an innocent ditty. The call was with me, and I selected a very good- looking friendly neighbour, an American, to keep the society awake. He, poor fellow, declared he never sang; he could not sing; in short, none of his family ever re- membered to have heard him attempt to sing. His apologies were of no use,— sing he must. He then conlessed lie only knew a natioual song, which would only insult his hosts by being repeated. Oh, non- sense!" quoth I, " we are all too well- educated to feel annoyed at an innocent jest." My words were repeated ; and Jonathan, clearing his voice and hold- ing up his head like a man, began to sing the famous song of " The Capture of the Guerrier by the Consti- tution," to the tunc of " The Arethusa." The instant he began, a solemn silence ensued : it was the trea- cherous calm before the hurricane. Each eye was fixed upon the unfortunate warbler ; and the veriest fool who ever remarked the sun at noon- day might have noticed the gathering clouds upon the faces of the Englishmen. Each verse made the matter worse; and when he came to the last, which I only - heard that once, and which I never shall forget,— When Dacres saw his ship a wreck, Himself a prisoner on her deck, His ship's crew in confusion,— He raised his head, and, sighing, said, " The God of War to victory led Brave Hull in the Constitution !"— As the last three syllables trembled from his voice, a decanter struck him on the head, and he was sprawl- ing. The Americans instantly rose to resent the in- jury : the English as quickly forsook their chairs; and in one minute not a glass remained whole. The tables were upset, the plates smashed, and a scene of confusion ensued not easily described. The hostile parties soon closed for a more determined fight: all the national hatred, which war gives rise to, in a mo- ment was the uppermost feeling. Revenge animated tho prisoners; the words had struck deeper than the sword in the hearts of the officers; and some of the Manly's gig's crew, who were waiting for the captain, caught the enthusiasm. No licensed murderers, called more politely warriors, ever closed with foes more re- solutely determined to conquer or die. The Americans stoutly maintained their ground, and were beaten down stairs, disputing every step. At the close of the fight the Russian captain had seized a stout Yankee, and, lifting him like a child, threw him head over heels over the banisters: he fell with a tremendous crash, and was instantly borne off by his companions. The fall seemed to startle us into the knowledge of the gross violation of all laws of hospitality of which we had been guilty: we looked like boys detected in a theft, and for the moment we drooped over victory in solemn silence. The deed was done; the Yankee over the stairs : no words could cancel the insult; and therefore, knowing " what cannot be repaired ought never to be lamented," we sat down, and call- ing for some brandy- and- water, held a consultation how we should act. Short time had we for delibera- tion : a shout in the street led us to the window, and there we saw the gathering crowds coming from all quarters and meeting opposite the door. Our first step was to fasten the entrance, and blockade the staircase ; and we withstood the furious assaults on our castle with wonderful firmness and intrepidity. The Americans, finding us so strongly fortified, re- tired in good order about twelve o'clock, leaving only a few black- looking gentlemen to disturb our repose. We retired to bed, with an understanding that, at the slightest noise, we were instantly to muster our forces. It was about one o'clock, when a terrible cry of mur- der resounded through all our apartments: it was evidently the voice of an Englishman ; for Americans, although they have lately published a work purporting to be a true mode of pronouncing English, have a nasal intonation wonderfully discordant to the musi- cal ears of Englishmen. In almost naked nature, wo rushed simultaneously into the 6treet: the gig's crew had been attacked, and we found about a thou- sand Americans heroically pounding four sailors. The impetuous rush of our party checked the opera- tions of the enemy; and, after much firing on their side, and fighting on ours, we rescued the crew, and brought two prisoners into our hotel. We instantly assembled a court- martial; and perhaps never was there seen a more ludicrous, and yet a more deter- mined scene, than occurred at that minute. We were only en chemise ; the American maids peeping in the room, where wc sat round a table, with our prisoners bound : and I, being the youngest, was called upon for my opinion first. I had little to say, excepting a remark upon the cowardly behaviour of our antagonists, who had attacked four innocent men on duty; I therefore adjudged the same criminals to be cobbed— a punishment 1 will not explain, saving only that a shovel is as good as a besom in some cas- tigations: which being carried unanimously, we forthwith prepared to inflict the sentence upon the culprits. In stripping them,— for I blush to say this operation was requisite,— a pair of pocket- pistols fell from one; they were loaded and primed, and no doubt had been intended for hostile operations; we therefore deferred the punishment, and handed our captives over to the civil power, from which they were shortly released on the payment of one dollar.— Metropolitan. THE NOBILITY or THE ISLAND OF JOHANNA. Most of the natives of Johanna, even the negro slaves, talk a little English ; but the best examples of persons possessed of 6uch acquirements were found, where they ought to be, amongst the grandees of the island. The following is a fair specimen of the dukes and carls at the capital of the Comoros:—" How do you do, sir ? Very glad see you. D— n your eyes! Johanna man like English very much. God d— n! That very good ? Eh ? Devilish hot, 6ir! What news? Hope your ship 6tay too long while, very. D— n my eye! Very fine day." After which, in a sort of whisper, accompanied by a. most insinuating smile, his lordship or his grace, as the rank of thi party might be, would add:—" You want orange? You want goat ! Cheap! I got good, very. You scud me your clothes ; 1 wash with my own hand,— clean ! fine ! very ! I got every thing, plenty, great,, much! God d— 11!" And then, as if to clench the favourable opinion which these eloquent appeals had made, the speaker was sure to produce a handful of certificates from mates of Indiamen, masters of Yankee brigs, and middies of men- of- war; some written in solemn earnest, some quizzically, but all declaring his lordship, the bearer, to be a pretty good washerman, but the sort of person not to be trusted far out of sight, as he would certainly walk off with your clothes- bag if he could safely do so. We had exhausted most of the topics, and all the English words of our friends of the fashionable world of Ji hanna, excepting the oaths, which their profligat; visitors appear to have been particularly successful in sowing amongst them, when the king was graciously pleased to rise from his bamboo couch and summon us to his presence. The audience- chamber might have measured twelve feet long, and eight wide, with a window at one end made to slope like the stern- post of a ship. Under the light 6at the king, with his crown on his head,— an appendage which, I must say, seems quite proper; and if it were always observed elsewhere, it would save many a bitter dissappoint- ment to children and nurses, as I can answer from actual experience in my own family, at the Tuilerics, and elsewhere. But, in place of a sceptre iii one hand, and a globe in the other, which he ought by- rights also to have wielded, his majesty leaned both his hands on the hilt of a monstrous rusty sabre, or ship's cutlass, stuck perpendicularly between his legs, while his elbows rested on the sides of a clumsy, wooden arm- chair, exchanged probably with some master of a merchant- ship for a bullock or two. The crown was amazingly grand, being stuck all round with stones, precious enough, I dare swear; and over all was thrown, not inelegantly, an Indian shawl, which dropped on either side nearly to the elastic bamboo floor, covered with rattan mats. Under the shawl we could observe a cumbersome black velvet robe, strangely ill cut, streaked across with gold lace, and garnished with a whole regiment of huge bottons. The folds of the robe concealed from our view the cut and quality of his majesty's small- clothes ; but certes he wore no covering below the knee, nor any thing on his feet, except a pair of sandals, consisting of a slip of deal, half an inch thick, tied to the great toe, and laced over the instep by small bands, made of the long grass of the island. This load of finery well nigh con cea! ed a round, fat, good- humoured, elderly per sonage, whose countenance gave no great promise of intellect beyond what we had found amongst the subjects helow stairs.— Captain Hall. A SHIRT AT SEA.— I merely wish to give a hint to those who never tried the experiment, that there is a prodigious difference between a shirt scrubbed in sa! t water, and one which has been washed in fresh. We all know the miseiy of putting on wet clothes, or sleeping in damp sheets. Now, a shirt washed in salt water is really a great deal worse than either; be- cause, in the cases alluded to, one may apply to the ( ire or the sun, and remedy the evil at the cost of a little time and trouble; but in the wretched predica- ment of putting on salt- water- washed linen, 110 such process avails anything. You first dry your unhappy shirt, by exposing it to the sun or the fire till it seems as free from moisture as any bone; you then put it on, in hopes of enjoying the benefit of clean linen. Alas, not a whit of enjoyment follows ! For if the air be in a humid state, or you are exposed to exercise, the treacherous salt, which, when crystallized, has hidden itself in the fibres of the cloth, speedily deli- quesces or melts, and you have all the tortures of be- ing once more wrapped in moist drapery. In your agony, you pull it off, run to the galley- range, and toast it over again; or you hang it up in the fiery heat of the southern sun; and when not a particle of wet seems to remain, you draw it on a second time, fancying your job at last complete. But, miserable man, you are as ill off as ever; for the insidious enemy has merely retired out of sight, but still lurks so close, that no art we yet know of will expel him, save and except that of a good sound rinsing in fresh water.— Captain Hall. OLD SHERRY— GEORGE PHIBBS begs to call ilic attention of Connoisseurs and tlic Public in general to his preseut STOCK of FINE OLD DRY SHERRY, which, in age and quality, cannot be surpassed by auy house in the trade. G. P. lias also a large stock of all the first growth Wines in wood and bottle.— No. 11 Blenheim- street, Bond- street. NOTJCE. FREE TRADE WAREHOUSE, 22, SKIN- NER- STREET, opposite the Saracen's Head.— It is now acknowledged beyond nil ilouht, tliat the best ii. Tea in London is sold at this Warehouse. This intimation is given at the request of thousands— who remark— " Why diil you not advertise or let us know of your esta- blishment before ?— we have been long sickened with the rubbish sold l » y the sugar dealers." Observe the address, 22, Skinner- street. __..„ the 1st. of every Month. tHE COMIC MAGAZINE. Price U. em- X bellisbed with nineteen illustrations, designed by Seymour, engraved by Gorway. NOTICES OF THE PRESS. " Flull of humour, in palpable imitations of Hood's etchings in the « Comic Annual.' The Lear ( leer) of Private Life is capital, it i9 the very perfectiou of pictorial punning. And indeed it is something to get nineteen such wood- cuts for the small price of one shilling."— Sun. " A pleasaut Tom Hood sort of thing."— Sunday Times. " A sort of monthly Figaro, only in a smarter coat." Court Journal. " There is a good shilling's worth of laughter and wit."— True Sun. " Full of cuts, wooden and witty, h la Hood."— Lit. Guardian. " The Comic Magazine contains capital cuts, it is more- over a curiosity, as the best, though not the first perpetua- tion of puns by pictures."— Bell's Weekly Messenger. In the middle of May will be published, a new Humorous Poem, to be called THE MARCH OF HUMBUG; illustrated with six en- gravings, by Robert Cruikshank. William Kidd, 228, Regent- sire. t. ^ ^ THE BYRON GALLERY: A Series of Historical Embellishments to Illustrate the Poetical Works of Lord B\ ron ; Engraved in the high- est style or Art, from Drawing* and Paintings by the most celebrated Ariists, and adapted by their size and exctl- Icuce, to embellish every edition of the Poet : more espe- cially that of Lord Byron's Life and Works, now in the course of publication, by Mr. Murray. ADDRESS. It is a subject of general observation and regret that, not- withstanding the present enthusiastic admiration aud cu courageinent of the Fine Arts, no series of Pictorial Illustrations has hitherto appeared, which is worthy of the name and genius of Byron. The Plates which Mr. Murray is uow publishing, simultaneously with his complete aud elegant edition of the noble Poet's Works, are, unquestionably, beautiful specimens of Art, whereon the burin, of Fiuden has been employed with its accustomed excellence; but they entirely consist of Portraits and landscape views of those scenes, which arc incidentally described in the several Poems. A rich and abundant harvest still remains to be gathered in. The glorious " imagiuings," which the mind of Byron alone could conceive, are yet to be emlwdied to the eye of his admirers, by the aid of grapliic. il i lustrations, whereby the Genius of Paiutiug may contribute her fairest forms to decorate the immortal creations of Poetry. 4t is the confessedly ambitious desigu of the Proprietors of the present Work, to supply a deficiency which is alike the occasion of surprise and concern. They boldly declare their couviction of the inadequacy of all previous attempts to depict the characters which the Muse <> f Byron has sum- moned into ex iitcnce; and they invite the patronage of the Public to a pro| Hised connected Series of Illustrations of the Works of Lord Byron, which shall be worthy of the fame of the Poet, and which shall challenge the admiration of the refiued and fastidious taste of the present age. The distinguished talent employed upon the Work: the careful aud laborious industry with which its details are superintended : the unsparing employment of capital : and the insignificant price affixed, abundantly prove that the Proprietors not only aim at the highest excellence, but that they alone depend upon the most extensive sale for their remuneration. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. I.— The Illustrations will be engraved in the highest style of the Art, and by the best Eugravers in the kingdom, from Drawings aud Paintings by the most celebrated Artists. II.— They will be completed in Six, or, at most, in Eijht Parts, cach containing Five Plates, which will be adapted, by the size of the paper, for binding up with any edition of Byron's Works. Ample directions will be given in the last Part to the Binder. III.— Part I. will appear on the 1st of May next, and the succeeding Parts on the tirst day of every subsequent alter- nate mouth. The series will thus reach its term of com- pletion at the same time with the new edition of Byron now publishing by Mr. Murray, which it is more especially the object of these Engravings to illustrate. IV.— The price of each Part, neatly done up in a coloured wrapper, will be Four Shillings and Sixpence; at which sum, when the style of their execution is considered, these Illustrations are offered as the cheapest that have ever been published; and from which the Proprietors can ouly hope for remuneration by a very extensive sale. A limited number of Proofs will be taken on royal quarto: — 8. d. Price, on Plain Paper 6 0 ludia 7 ti India, before the Letters .. 10 6 Booksellers in the Country desirous of havmg Prospectuses and Specimens of these elegant Plates to show to their Friends, will please to apply direct to the Publishers ( postage free), giviug the names of their Loudon agents, through whom they will be immediately forwarded. Published by Smith, Elder, and Co., G5, Cornhill. TO FLUTE- PLAYERS, MUSIC- SELLERS, AND BOOKSELLERS. Three new Musical Periodicals, on the principal of Cheap Literary undertakings. 1. tHE FLUTONICON; or, Flute- Player's Monthly Compauiou. No. 5 of this Work will be published on the 1st of May, and will actually contain seventeen pages or fine sterling Music for Is. Amougst the best will be given some original Hottentot tunes, presented to the Editor by Lieut. Moodie, of the 21st Regiment of Fusileers. Second Editions of all the back numbers may now be had. " An admirable little work, full of promise, and honestly worth double its price."— AtUnneum. 2. THE APOLLONIAD, No. 2, price 2 » ., will be pub- lished ou the 1st of May, and will cuutaiu a new piece by Bochsa and Berbiguier, ( introducing the Venetian air, which Pagauini played, " Oh come to me when daylight sets.") aud a Polacca by Berbiguier and Castil- Blaze, both conccrtante for Flute aiid Piano, or Harp. Each of these Pieces according to the charge of Music- sellers, would be nearly double the price of the whole book. Separate Flute aud Piano parts are given with both pieces. 3. THE GERMAN FLUTE MAGAZINE for begin- ners.— The 2ud , No. will be published on the 1st of May, aud contain sixteeu pages of Music, and four pages of in struction for Is. These three works are punctually published on the 1st of every month. London : Sherwood and Co., 23, Paternoster- row ; Pur- day, 45, High Holhorn ; Dale, H>, Poultry; and Duff, 65, Oxford- street. N. B.— No. 4 of the Flutonicon contains an explanation aud description of the New Patent Flute. PUrE BRANDY. E. H. DESVIGNES and Co., Distillers and Rectifiers, respectfully solicit the attention of the Trade and Public to their article or BRANDY, which, for purity of spirit, and real flavour embodied, stauds the test of inixiug, equal to the finest foreign Cognac ( at nearly half the price). — Desvignes aud Co. feel confident a single trial will establsh its superiority, without the aid of names or affidavits, to sanction its really genuine and wholesome qualities. Distillery, No. 2, Bridc- lane, Golden- square. N. B.— Samples tuny be had, on paying for bottles. All post letters must be paid. fRANciS WEST ( Successor to Mr. Adams), OPTICAL, MATHEMATICAL, and PHILOSO- PHICAL INSTRUMENT MAKER to his Majesty, No. 83, FLEET- STREET, London ( near St. Bride's Church), informs those whose sight is weak and defective, that being a Prac- tical Optician, he has for many years paid particular atten- tion to the construction of the Human Eye, and the best means of assisting it by the use of Spectacles. ( See " West's Treatise on the Human Eye." 4th Edit.) All those sold by liiin arc ground by haud, with peculiar accuracy, ou brass tools of the most perfect spherical truth, under his immediate inspection ; and by judiciously adapting ihem to the true state of the Eye, he is enabled to assist every de- scription of sight, and preserve it to extreme old age. The following works, just published, by F. West:—" An Anatomical Diagram of the Human Eye;" in which all the Internal Structures or the Eye are accurately developed: price 2s. coloured.—" Companion to the Microscope."— " Chemical Recreation."—" Key to the Study o! Astrono- my."—" Description and Use or Mathematical Iustru- meuts."—" Brier Accouut o! the Barometer, aud Compara- tive Scales or the Thermometer."—" Description of the Air- Pump, and Use of the Various Apparatus."—" Electri- cian's Guide,' 1 & c. N. B.— Optical, Mathematical, and Philosophical Instru- ments, of every description, wholesale and for exportation, of the best workmanship, and on the most reasonable terms. tO NAVY- SURGEONS, kc.— BLACK- WELL, SURGEON- S INSTRUMENT, TRUSS and SHEAR MAKER, and MANUFACTURING CUT- LER, 3, Bcdford- court, Covent- garden, established 1760, respectrully notifies, that he has full aud Assistant's Cases New aud Second Hand. Also, Surgical Instruments, Sto- . macli Pumps, Improved Enemas, Hot Air Baths for Pa- tients in Bed. Shears and Cutlery, & c. for sale, at low prices. Blackwcll is the origiual Inventor aud Improver, and only Manufacturer in Loudon, of the Tailor's Shears.— Letters ( post paid) promptly attcuded to. [ ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL.] NOTICE TO ADVERTISERS. It will lie satisfactory to those who have already advertised iu our Paper, or whose intention it may be to do so, to know that tlic aggregate number printed of THE THIEF, by Messrs. Mills and Jonett, was 20,000, an amount un- precedented iu the first number of any other periodical. Advertisements must be sent to the Publishers, 21, Pater- noster- row, by twelve o'clock on the morning of Tuesday, the great number sold rendering it necessary that the Paper should go t" press at an early moment. The scale at which Advertisements will be inserted is as follows :— Ten lines, and under Every succeediug line 4d. NOTICE TO READERS. Thief though we are, we have no intention to rob our readers of any portion v[ amusemeut by inserting Adver- tisements. Our next number will be ol an increased size, cach page containing au additional column, nnd ad- ditional amusemeut; aud in proportion as our Advertise- ments become more numerous, so also will the size or our Paper be enlarged. NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS. Several persons having been so obliging as to forwan! to ns original papers, we beg leave to inform them that we ndmit nothing original iu our columns, translations ex- cepted We give the best articles from every magazine, the best portions from every book nud to amuse our readers would " steal an egg out of a cloister In the first 15 000 of our impression tbe " Horrible Letter was in- serted without a confession of the place from which it was stolen • it « as taken from the " Metropolitan Magazine." Published by W. Strange, 21, Paternoster- row. London Printed bv Mills, Jowett, and Mills, Bolt- court, Fleet- street.