AWFUL INUNDATION AT Brentford is in the par. of Baling, Brentford was 2,085 ; of Old Brent- The above Engraving Is an ticcurite representation of the awful Inundation which took place at Brentford, on Monday, the 18th of • January, 1841. Brentford, Middlesex, is on the North hank of the Thames, about eight miles from the General Post- oflice. It is • divided into Old nnd New BrtntTord, by tire river I ( rent, which rises near Chipping Barnet, on the borders of Middlesex and Hertfordshire, snd, after traversing a large portion of Middlesex, falls into the Thames in Isleworth parish. Old " -* « » - « -- Ossulston hund.; New Brentford in the par. of Hanwell, Ellhorne hund. In 1831, the pop. of New . ford, including Ealing, 7,783. Brentford is situated on the great western road leading from the metropolis. It is a long, straggling, ill- built town. In Ihe par. of Haling, the market gardens afford employment to many labourers, as well as women and children. The trade of the town is derived from the traffic of the thoroughfare, and from flour- inills, malting, and brick- making. There are two annual fairs, held in May, and September, • which last three days each, for horses, caflle, hogs, & c. The market- Jay is Tuesday. Brentford has derived some notoriety as having been the place of countv election for members to Berve in parliament. It is considered as the county town, though it possesses no town- hall, nor separate jurisdiction ; it is slill the place of nomiaation, and one of the polling places for the county. There was a bridge at Brentford over the river Brent, from a very early dale. In 1280, Edward I. granted a loll in aid of this bridge, by which all Jews and Jewesses passing over on horseback were to pay a penny ; those on foot a half- penny. Other passengers were exempt. The stale of the'bridgs aas'jong a cause of complaint, and various alterations were made to adapt it to the increasing number of passengers. In 1824 the present bridge was built, which is of stone, 31ft. between the parapets, 50 ft. wide in the water- way under th ® bridge, and 15 ft. high to the summit within the arch. New Brentford church was rebuilt 1764. This living is a curacy subordinate to Hanwell, and was at one time held by John Home Tooke There are seven daily schools, of which two are national, and three Sunday schools, in New Brentford 5 in Ealing, which includes Old Brentford, there are 17 daily schools, one of which is endowed, and two others are partly endowed; eight boarding schools, and four Sunday schools. At Ealing there is a labour- school for the poorer classes. Some organic remains were dug up in a field near Brentford, of which » n account is given in Ihe ' Phil. Trans.' for 1813. The Grand Junction Canal comes into the Brent r little below Hanwell, and is thus carried to the Thames at Brentford. In 1616, Edmund Ironside, having obliged the Danes to raise the siege of London, pursued them to Brentford, and defeated them with great slaughter. On the 14th of November, 1642, an notion occurred between the royalist and parliamentary forces at Brentford, in which the latter were defeated. Patrick Ruthen, F. nrl of forth, in Scotland, was for his services in this action, created by Charles the I., Earl of Brentford, a title which became extinct wilh him in 1651. In 1689 Ihe title was revived by King William, who gave it to Dnke Schomberg; theSchom- berg'sson, who died in 1719, was Ihe last Earl of Brentford. Six Protestants suffered at the stake in the town of Brentford on 14th July, 1558. No. 45. LONDON:— SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1841. constable. The watch was not fonnd upon him, but it was picked up in the road, where, no doubl, he had thrown it. The prisoner, in dcfence; said : Sare, I sail tell you all about it in de von breath. Dis lady, dare; tell you God for dam lie. I met her, rind she say you dome vis me, and I give you de treat. So I did, and ve had de poriore, atid dc gin, aiid ve smoke de pipe, and de lady vas vera happy, vera mush happy, srlro. Den I say to her ' Madame, I see you to your lodgment,' and she say ' vera veil, ven I sail fall down, you pick me up.' So I go wis her, and she fall down six seven times, and I pick her up. Ven ve get to her lodg- ment, and into her room, she say ' Hah ! my husband vill come here, and ven he see you in my place, he cut you head off.' So I vera mush fraid, and run avay as quick as de lightning. Mrs. ( Holding, however, acknowledged that she had had a little to drink, but lhat she was by no means in- ebriated. The policeman's evidence, who took the prisoner into custody, having been taken, and alio that of a man who had seen him throw something away in the course of his flight, he was fully committed. HORRORS OF CANNIBALISM. The following hotrible account of cannibalism, as practised bv the Battas, an extensive and populous nation of Sumatra, is extracted from the " Memoirs of Sir Stamford Raffles." The account is represented to come from so high an authority, that there can be no question as to its correctness. " A man bad been found guilty of a very common crime, and « as sentenced to be eaten, accruing to the law of the laud ( this todk pldee close to Tappandoly j tile Resident wtis invited to attend; lie declined, but his assistant and a native officer were present. As soon as they reached the spot, they found a large assemblage of people, aud the criminal tied to a tree With his bauds extended. The minister of justice, who vvas himself a chief of some rank, then fcaitte lorrtard with a latee knife iu his baud, which he brandished as he approach- ed the victim. He was foti" Wed by a man, beating a dish, in which was a preparation or condiment, coin- posed of limes, chillis, and salt, called by the Ma'ays, Sanibul. He then called aloud for the injured hus- band, and demanded what part lie chose; lie replied, the right ear, which was immediately cut off aud de- livered to the party, who, turning round to the mail behind, deliberately dipped it into the sambul and de- voured it; the rest of the party theu fell upon the body, each taking and eating tbe part most to bis liking. After they had cut off a considerable part of the flesh,"' one man stabbed him to the heart; but this was rather out of compliment to the foreign visitors, as it is by no means the custom to give the " coup de grace." I was with a knowledge of all these facts regarding the Battas, that I paid a visit to Tappanooly, with a determination to satisty my mind most fully in everything concerning cannibalism. I bad previously set on foot extensive inquiries, and so managed matters as to concentrate the information, aud to bring the point within a narrow compass. You shall now hear the result; but before I proceed, I must beg of you to have a little more patience than you had with Mr. Mariner. I recollect, then, when you come to the story of eating the aunt, you threw the book down. Now I can assure your grace, that I have ten times more to report, and you must believe me. 1 have said tbe Battas are not a very bad people, and still think so, notwithstanding they eat one another, and relish the flesh of a man better than that of an ox or a pig. You must merely cotisider that I am giving you atl account of a novel state of society, The Battas arc not savSgeS, for they write and read, and think full as much, and mote than those who are brought up at our Lancasterian and national schools. They also have Codes of laws of great antiquity, and it is from a re- gard for these laws, and a veneration for ths institu- tions of their ancestors, that they cat each other; the law declares, that for certain crimes, four in number, the criminals shall be eaten alive. The same law de- clares also, lhat in great Wars, that is to say, one dis- trict with atlother, it shall be lawful to eat the prisoners, vyhether taken alive, dead, or in their graves. In the four great cases of crimes, the criminal is also duly tried, and condemned by a competent tribunal. When the evidence is heard, sentence is pronounced, and the chiefs drftik a drachm each, which last ceremony is equivalent to sighing and sealing with us. Two or three days then elapsed to give time for assembling the people, and iri cases of adultery it is not allowed to carry the sentence into effect, unless the relations of the wife appetlr an 1 partake of the feast. The prisoner is then brought forward on the day appointed, and fixed to a stake, with his hands extended. The husband, or party injured, comes and takes the first choice, generally the ea s; the rest then, according to their rank, take the choice pieces, each hclpiui; himself ac- cording to his liking. After all have partaken, chief person goes up and cuts off the head, which carries home as a trophy. The head is hung up front of the house, atid the brains are carefully pre- served in a bottle for the pufpo- es of witchcraft, & e. In devouring the flesh, it is sometimes eaten raw, sometimes grilled, but it must be eaten on the spot. Limes, salt, and pepper, are always ill readiness, and they sometimes eat rice with the flesh, but never drink toddy or spirits ; many carry bamboos with them, and filling them with blood, drink it off. The assembly consisted of men alone, as the flesh of a man is prohibited to the females ; it is said, howuver, that they get a bit by stealth now and then. I am assured, aud really do believe, that mauy of the people prefer human flesh to any other; but, notwithstanding this penchant, they never indulge the appetite except ou I lawful occasions. The palms of the hands, and the t soles of the feet, are the delicacies of epicures. On ex- pressing my surprise at the continuance of such extra- ordinary practices, I was told that formerly it was usual for the people to eat their parents when they DOING HIM A TURN. Tho' perhaps he'll say barter- ous is His silken ringlets ihus to burn, Indeed he cannot help but own That he is doing him a turn. pressing my surprise - - - - - , •.• .: i ..,„„ ... 1.1 • t. 1, formerly rt was the people to eai meir when they were too old / or work. The old people selected the horizontal branch of a large tree, and quietly sus- pended themselves by their hands, while their children and neighbours, forming a circle, danced round them, crying out, " When the Iruit is ripe, then it will tall. This practice took place during the season of limes and pepper were plentiful; aud as soon as victims became fatigued, and could hold on nu fell down, when all hands cut them up, hearty meal of thern. This practice, how- ever, of eating the old people, has been abandoned, and thus, a step in civilization has been attained, and there- fore there are hopes of future improvement. This state of society you will admit to be very p culiar. It is calculated, that certainly i; less than from sixty to one hutidted Battas are thus eat^ n in a year, iu the times of peace." ORTHOGRAPHY.— The following is a copy of a notice on a public- house door, in Yorkshire To bee sould by publik Oction, at the house of John Grainger, almgill, Mallarslang, aul lhat Stoock of Sorte- horned Cat'el, conlanin of 11 Spring Calvers, and others of defferned ages, to the number of SO, and 60 height- going sheepe, and a Quentey of haye, and Time for pnment and uther condissons will be fixced at the plase of Sale." A MISTAKE.— A man, the other day, on going to bathe, stript himself, put his clothe- in Ihe bath, and laid himself on a chair. He did not discover hit mis. take until he thought it was time to dress. bead, for " the honour of ould Ireland," and they had the utmost difficulty in getting him along, with the aid of three more policemen. MAGISTRATE.— Well, Mr. Sullivan, what have you to say to this ? DEFENDANT.— Bad manners to me, yel- riviriuce, and is id what I've got to say now, dat you're axiilgme ? Fait then and it's a mighty d'Ale 1 Kill say, and rio ttiistal^ j but dat Wouldn't sarvc hie, sul- S, if I cum off conqvterifF; these Peelers would swear through a fifteen inch bed- post, dirty butter to them. You hear what the black- guard spalpeens say, your honour, dat it tuk five of them to take metoth' station ; but only clap your blessed eyes upon me, and den say if you tins dat I'm even the shadow of a man, and whither 1 could have done what they say. May 1 never go home to Kathleen ( dat's my wife your rivirinee) agin, if theydidu't tear ineto pieces, and tore every limb off o' me, as your riviriuce caii s « e by my clothes. Mr. Sullivau not being able to call any witnesses to disprove the charge, was fined two pounds for assaulting the policeman, otie pound fur striking the publican, and to pay for the damage he had done, or to be imprisoned for two months. DEFENDANT.— Jolly good luck to your rivirince— suc- cess to your old tin pot— the two months by all manner o' manes, and dat will keep me in presarve while the fine weather comes on '.— Arooh I BOW- STREET. A long, meagre, corkscrew- looking couple of blue devils, whose visages exhibited sundry and divers cuts, bruises, and indentations, preferred a charge of assault, against a stout, led- haired Irishman, y'clept Daniel Sullivan, for that he did most violtntly kick, cuff, and beat tbe said two blue devils, while in tbe execution of their duty ; and Mr. James Tomlinson, a publican, in • the neighbourhood of the delightful regions of St. Giles's, further charged the said Daniel Sullivan with disorderly conduct in his house, and with striking hi to several times iu endeavour, ng to eject him there- torn. It appeared from tbe statement of one of the police- men, that while ou their beat the night before, about ten o'clock, a person came up. and informed him that Sullivan was giving the publican a beating, and pre- sently afterwards, bearing a great row he ran to the house in question, where he saw the defendant, occa- sionally dealing a blew al the glaze, and another at, the head of tbe unfortunate boniface. He endeavoured to secure him, but be knocked liini down, and kicked him while he was down, and it was not until his brother officer came up, that he could be taken to tbe station.— On the way there, he gave them divers whacks over the MARLBOROUCH- STREET. A miserable- looking object, who gave his name Monsieur Jean Jaques Girard, and styled himself a prolessor of languages, vvas charged by Mrs. Amelia Guiding, a very corpulent woman, with robbing her of a silver watch, under the following circumstances ; Mrs. Golding stated that her husband, who was a gentleman's valet, was out of town with life family in which he lived. She had lately lived in a family in the neighbourhood of Portland- place, as cook, where she became acquainted wilh the prisoner, who came to visit the butler. Their intimacy " was ofa strictly ho- nourable description ; she took compassion on him, he looked so miserable. Many was the lump of " brass i knocker," she had given him ; innumerable were the sops in the pan he had received from her, and so kindly did she nourish aud cherish him, lhat the meagre Frenchman was gelling a complete John Bull, in point of persoualappearance; but an unfortunate occurrence put an abrupt termination to this course of proceeding; cooky gol the " sack." On the day previous she met tbe prisoner accidentally in the New- road, and he looked so wretched, that she took him into the Greet! Man, and purchased bread and cheese for him, and treated him wilh ale, and two glasses of gin. Not sa- tisfied wilh having befriended him so far, she look him home to her lodgings, where he was permitted lo de- vour the remains ofa shoulder of million, when the un- grateful fellow, after having filled his capacious " maw," suddenly jumped up, snatched a silver watch, which was hanging over the mautt- 1- piece, and boiled down tbe stairs with il. She pursued him, and raising a cry of" stop- thief," he was stopped by a police M E PENNY SUNDAY TIMES, AND PEOPLE'S POLICE GAZETTE: to ERNNESTINE DE LACY! OR, THE ROBBER'S FOUNDLING. AN ORIGINAL ROMANCE, WRITTEN EXPRESSLY FOR \ X* THE PENNY SUNDAY TIMES," BY THE POPULAR AUTHOR OF " ELA, TIIE OUTCAST," " ANGELINA," " GALLANT TOM, 1' " TALES AND LEGENDS OF OTHER BAYS," & C. & C. ( Continued from our last.) " FJed ?" cried the robber chief, in a tone of the most indescribable astonishment ; " impossible!" " Marry and I speak the truth, captain," answered Uk- ic, " if thou doubtest me, thou canst speedily satisfy thyself." " It is a mere cheat, a juggle !" exclaime j Ranulph de Lacy, in accents of wrath, " thou hast trepanned me hither for some sinister purpose, niy son was never in thy power." " Ranulph de Lacy," replied Osmond, in a calm man- ner, " this is no time to bandy words; but I tell thee again that thou dost me wrong by the suppositions thou dost entertain of the motives of my conduct. What sinister design thinkest thou 1 conid have against thee? — Besides, thou earnest here of thine own free will; I in- vited thee not. Follow me, I request thee." Ranulph laid his hand on his sword, and without making another observation at that time, followed the robber chief iu haste through the several caverns and passages, until they reached tbe abutment which had been allotted to Godfrey to repose in. It was entirely vacated, and 110 traces of itj late occupier were left be- hind. 1 " S'death !" exclaimed Osmond, " but the bird is flown a certainty; what could have induced him to have done so? The fooli- h boy will frustrate the scheme* I have formed to save his life, and to rescue his character from reproach !" " And what proof hast thou to convince me my son lias ever been here?" demanded Rati'llpb, vgho being in- credulous, expressed no astonishment at thecircutns'atice, which he thought had merely been invented by the rob- ber- chief, to further some design or the other, fo *' Still art thou doubtful ?" said Osmond. " Forsooth, I thought better of thee, Hanulph de Lacy. Proot 1 have none, if thou wilt not believe me and my comrades;— ah! what is tills?— A letter 1— Yes, and addressed to me." Osmond picked up the letter, which, having fallen off the table on which it had been - pliced, was not at first noticed. He unfolded it, and having hastily glar. cetl over the contents, he turntd to lianulph, and placing it in his hand, said— " There, marry, an' thou wantest proof, methinks thou wilt consider that sufficient; kriowest thou that hand- writing ?" " Ah! by the tnass! it is my son's 1" exclaimed the bowyer, recognizing the characters in a moment; " here is his name, too; I cannot doubt any longer." Eagerly the father of Godfrey perused the contents, which were addressed to Osmond, and rati as follews " I cannot reconcile my mind to the coarie thou wouldst t should pursue to gain the establishment of my innocence, although I do heartily thank thee for the in- terest thou hast taken in my fate, and the risk thou hast run, with no other motives 1 feel assured than a wisb to serve me. I go to resign myself into the hands of the officers of the law, and depend upon the cousciou » n ss of mine own innocence and the goodness of the Almighty to get at acquittal. " GODFREY DE LACY." '• Gracious Heaven!" ejaculated Rauuipb, " then, by this time, my unhappy son is once more incarcerated in that dark and loathsome dungeon, and believed to be the perpetrator of all those dreadful crimes !" " Nay," observed Osmond, " it may not yet be too late to save him. Ratiulph de Lacy, wilt thou entrust thy- self in my company ?" " Thou meanest me no harm ?" remarked Ranulph. " On the contrary, I would serve thee; I would save the life of thy son. " I will entrust myself with thee," said the bowyer. " Lei us away then," observed Osmond ; " Ulric, fol- low with fifty of our men at sr short distance, so that thou niayest be ready iu case we should need thy assistance." " What woiihht thou do ?" demanded Ranuloh. " Thou slialt see anon," replied the robber- chief, " at present we have not a moment to lose. Come, come, we must not ttttrv longer, or it will be useless going at ail" - The robbers ; • - lily buckled ou their swords', and pre- pared to foilthe lieutenant, while Osmond and lU' Ulph hastened from the cavern, by the same way they had entered il, and the drawbridge being let down, iu a few moments tnej were in the forest, and wending iheir waj with rapid steps towards the prison, from whence, hy the aid < { the robber- chitjf, Godfrey had so recently iMadehia escape. and i'faith thou hast thyself a most thirsty throat, as met jinks Master Hubert will find out before we leave." ' "' Psha! Henric, thou dost scandalize my character," said tbe other, with an ominous hiccup, " thou knowest full well that I cannot bear to see any intoxicating be- verages before me." " Aud therefore dost thou put them out of sight as speedily as thou canst," quoth Henric; " 1 must say though, that it is no unpleasantjlhing to have pieuSjf to eat and drink when it costs nothing for the same. Our host is a good fellow." " Thou savest right, and sorry am I that lie has got all this trouble in his family," said Maurice. " Aye, it is bad for Master Hubert," observed Henric, " but his grand- daughter, as 1 trow it is, must feel it more severely, for Reginald was to have been married to her." By the saints ! she is a beauteous girl," said Maurice, " and I would not mind but what noise was that ?" Maurice jumped upon his feet as bespoke, and looked around him. " I heard no noise," remarked Henric. " It sounded like the closing of a door." " Likely enough," replied Henric, " blown to by the wind, which whistles pretty sharply. Come, sit thee down again, and let us toast the fair maid of the inn." At that moment a scream smote their ears, which seemed to proceed from the room up stairs. " Hearest thou that ?" demanded Maurice ; " perhaps thou wilt say that that is the wind also?" " Something has happened, it is very plain," said Hen- ric; and arising from his seat, he accompanied Maurice up stairs. The room door was closed, but ihere were voices of lamentation to be heard. Not waiting for any ceremony, Maurice threw open the door, and a scene pre- sented itself which filled them with astonishment.— Clasping the forms of the distracted Erunestine and his mother to his bosom, was Godfrey de Lacy, while poor old Hubert and Maud stoad by, the very images of des- pair and horror. " By the mass ! it is the murderer," exclaimed Maurice. "' Pis false," ejaculated Ernnestine, in a firm tone, and turning a look of indignation upon the man ; " he is no murderer; his hands were never yet stained with the blood of his fellow- creatures, and thou shalt not tear him from us. I will cling to him, aud if he must die, we will perish together!" " Godfrey de Lacy, thou art our prisoner," said Henric, advancing towards liim, and attempting to remove Eru- nestine from his embrace. " Bold, presumptuous vailet," exclaimSd Godfrey, his cheeks glowing with resentment, as he pushed the man away, " lay but a finger upon this afflicted damsel, and I will strike thee a corpse at my feet 1— Nay, stand back, but a few moments, and I will attend ye; 1 do not wish to escape." The men drew back, and gazed on the melancholy scene with some expression of pity. " Mother— Erunestine," ejaculated Godfrey, in a voice almost choked with emotion, and kissing the cheeks and foreheads of both alternately, is they clung wiih frenzied eagerness to him, and sobbed upon his bosom, " 1 im- plore ye to Calm your feelings, and believe me when I tell ye, that all will yet be well, and that 1 shall shortly be restored to ye, without the slightest slaiB upon my character!— Mother, release me, I pray ; oil, to see thee suffer thus, unmans me; Ernnestine, for the love of heaven! endeavour to restrain thine anguish ; it racks my brain to madness to see thee suffer thus ! Our evil star will not always preside!— No, no, my sweetest, there are yet happier days in store for us, so pray thee compose thyself, and rest assured that we shall he restored to each other, when sorrow shall no longer attend us, and when I shall have fully rebutted the foul charge which is brought against me! Take them from me, nry uncle, and eudea- vour to impart to them that consolation of which they stand so much in need." " Oh, God ! my heart will burst," sobbed the agonised Edith, throwing her arms round the neck of Godfrey, and hugging him yet more closely to her hosotn ; " my son, tny son, they shall not separate us; they shall not again bear thee to their frightful dungeons !— I will cling to thee with the power of a giant, and defy them to tear me from thee !— Ernnestine, hold him, do not let them approach him !— Villains, have ye no feeling for a wretched mother .'— Stand off, I say— ye shall not touch hini.'<- Hiibert— Maud— ye surely will not let them take him ir'orti us, and drag him to curtain death?" " Edith," observed Hubert, approaching her, and en- deavouring to remove her from the arms of her son, " I beseech thee to appease the violence of thy grief, which can effect no good, and will bat add to the sufferings of thy unfortunate son," " Yes, Hubert says aright," said Godfrey, gently with- drawing himself from the close embtaces of his mother and Ernnestme, upon whose cheeks he pressed a fervent Viss s thee, illpcs t. hpe hoth 1— Thpt- p or a dozen stops of the narrow stairs, 1 saw a low door atthe right hand, lying open, and the clamor from the little room it led to directed my steps. The scene within was of the most painful confusion. The chief doctoi, with the dandy, the servants, and the " friend" of the En- glishman, were forcing the latter from the embrace ofhis long sought mistress. The sallow doctor, aud a coarse- looking woman were dragging the beauteous girl from her lover's closely encircled arms. Although they both strug- gled against their assailants, with force that would have been supernatural had not love braced the sinews of both. They seemed to have no look, no word but for each other, l'he most impassioned mtirmurings of rapture came through a din of threats and imprecations, like the hum of flower- enamoured bees in the tumult of a thunder- storm ! As soon as we were again beneath the window of the fatal chamber, and that the young man's voice rose up unobstructed to mingle with her own, tile Hapless girl, roused to a state of despair and phrenzy, made some more powerful efforts to escape from the fiends who held her, aud i- Bshed towards the casement from their insufficient hold. ' I bis 1 conjectured, from the frightful evidence that instantly presented itself. A sudden crashing of the glass of the window, and the crackling of the light Wood- Work of the blind, told of her desperate atteihpt at escape; and, in a moment, one of her snow white and beautiful formed arms were thrust through Jhe aperture, lacerated aud bleeding frojn her shoulder to her fingers' points. The blood Streamed - fr. fm it as tbmiili some rtiaiii arteryhad been severed, and the crimson stains trickled down the green blinds, and upon the gravelled walk. Nothing could be more appalling than the appearance of that arm, waving to and fro in its sanguined torture, while the choked shrieks that accompanied the movement bore no tone of physical suffering. An exclamation of horror burst from all the beholders of this sad sight. It was to nitich even for the hardened nerves and hearts of the fierce menials : but never shall I forget the anguished groans uttered by the young English- man; his struggles Were H « tc » l « aii, to elude the sinewy gripe of his four or five assailants. He had but two help- ing hands to aid his own exertions, and they vVerc in- sufficient for a time to Cope the odds against them. We were all htirried together, those who dragged and those who resisted, in the direction of the garden- house, the lovely arm still waving through the window- blind, until the white streaks which the stream left at first uncovered, became gradually dyed with red, and a bloody badge of suffering was alone to be distinguished, which, like some enchantment, lays all its guards asleep. Ingratitude is a crime so shameful, that there never was a man found who would own himself guilty of it. No man is wise or safe but he that is honest. MEABOURNZ HALL 3 OR, A NIGHT OF HORROR J TO CORRESPONDENTS. ' OLD S. B.— A chapter of AINSPORTH'S Legend of ST. PAULS, will be published weekly. We thanlc W. MAHARG for his compliments, and hope ho will continue to favour us With his communications, Part of DENNISON'S communications will appear, the others are too late. E. F., will not suit. II. M., is thanked; " ADVENTURES OF A BOARDING- SCHOOL," is under consideration. M. M. MM}., ( Dublin,) shall appear anon. We do not remember having received any communications from him before. " THE EARTHQUAKE," WILL not exactly suit our columns, but we shall be. glad to hear again from the author. - We will give insertion to " SOLITUDE," " NATURE," ISAAC S., " LINES ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND," " EILEEN O'KEEFE," " TO MAGGIE," Charade,' by W. J. HUDSON, ( Newcastle- on- Tyne,) and a Song, by " Buc," Respectfully declined: 11 LIVES TO ANNA, MINSTREL OF THE HEATH," and " A FATHER'S FAREWELL TO AN ONLY SON." We regret that several Answers to the Charades arrived too late, amongst others, the, excellent ones by " ANNA, MINSTREL OF THE HEATH,'' and W. J. HUDSON, ( Newcastle- on- Tyne.) MR. LUCKIK having sent the answers, we will find a place in our columns for his Conundrums, We hope our much valued correspondent, MR. J. DIL- LON, ( Dublin,) has not quite deserted us. . PV S.— We have seen the wrMhek abortion alluded It by cur correspondent, Jiui it, is tookontemptib'. e for further notice. It will not be in existence a month. " DRAMATICOS-"— PAUI. HERRING is only the thed- ' trical sobriquet' of Itnf& ent Indian ,•• hit right name is W. SMITH. S. M.— The suggestion shall be attended to. *** All communications to be addressed ( post paid) to the Editor of TUB PENNY SUNDAY TIMES, 231, High- stffet, Shoreiiitch. CHAPTER VIII. " Hold, slaves ! By the Gods, the first whose murderous hand Shall be raised to harm him, dies ! He is innocent of the crimed— 1 say he is innocent!" IN the meantime the persons we left at the hostelrie of Hubert Clensham, as may be supposed , were in a state of the most painful anxiety and suspense as regarded tbe fate of the unfortunate Godtrey, and what would be tbe result of this horrible affair. Still did both Edith and Ernnestiue behave with far greater composure than could possibly have be » n expected, and tried to await the issue of these very melancholy and perplexing circumstances with patience. The exciteincnt which " had been caused in the neighbourhood, by the murder of Reginald, and the others, hourly increased, and the inn was surrounded by a crowd of per « ons, who expressed their indiguation against the supposed guilty person in language of no very measured description. The evidences of Godfrey's guilt appeared so strong, that the effect it had upon the minds of the idle rabble was too powerful to be eradicated, and, notwithstanding the high character which the unfortu- nate youth had borne previously, they all pronounced him guilty, and bat for the high esteem in which they held Hubert Clensham, they would have broken into the inn, and probably have committed some outrage upon the inmates. The bratal eonduct of the ignorant mob had a most painful effect upou the minds of Eriiuestine and Edith ; and Hubert, who was fearful that it would he productive of some fatal consequences, at length, went forth, and, addressing some words to the crowd assembled, iutreated hetn to disperse. His words bad the desired effect; they gradually departed, only two or three stragelers remained tor'a short time behind, and they having exhausted their stork of information and speculation upon the dreadful -<( fa:-, at length became tired, and sliuked off also, leav- ing the coast clear. v have before stated that Rannlph had not informed w hither he was going on the morning when lie left early, with the design of hastening to tbe retreat of the t bbers ; but his absence caused no surprise in the bosoms of his friends, as it was only natural to suppose that until some explanation of the mysterious affair, which at pre set r r ed their whole attention, aud excited their deepest interest, was obtained, he would not be able to rest, t •! that he would make all the inquiry he possibly could. As hour alter hoar passed away, and still be did not return, they began to feel somewhat uneasy, and it required all tbe arguments that, it was in tbe power of Hubert to m.-. ke use of, to quiet their apprehensions. The two fellows who had been left at tbe inn by the officer, enjoyed tl . ir quarters amazingly, for the refresh- ments di'postil i f by mine host of the" " Flagon," were of the fiue:- t quality, and they did not forget to pay their respects ti * ; frequently as they had all opportunity. In this re ea ,' i. ast- 1 r Hubert was 110 churl, aud often treated the: i. rt v h they repaid him by behaving with less ius .^ e th. - men of their class were in the habit of doing Oil the day of ". bit!: ive have been writing, they were seated in the back parlour o'f- Hie inn, with a stiff sack- posset before theiii,' which1 .. » the fourth they had already had, and so ninci- did they seem to relish it, that it di'l not appear likely . at they vvotild be disposed to leave off drinking it in a hurry. The > ?' ect » of this goodly fare bad iinpatted an unusual » !•.* t" tneir countenances, and as they tumbled off < use aftrrdose, their noses became more rubicund, and ttu ir tongues wagged more flippantly. « By the uia- s ! ou: host sells some excellent stuff, Maurice," ej tculi. ted one of the. ii, smacking his lips, and then taking another he swig, " this it is that nou- rishes a man, nia. ies him lv- ppy and leiis his heart 1" " Forsooth, Henric, andit - in. i as tbdu sayest— that i', if it opens a man's heart, wh i. a M'tierous, good soul thou ougfttto be," answered Maurice, with a grin, " for 1 never saw a man that could better play his part with it than thou caust." " Ha! ha! ha I" laughed Hemic. " why, 1 do confess me that I am no fliaoher from the good th ings of this life, and farewell kiss; " bless tliec, bless thee both '.— There, there, take thein, Hubert; farewell; and may all good angels watch over and protect them." Edith and Erunestine, who seemed to be unconscious of what was passing, suffered themselves to be led into another. room, and Godfrey then clasping his forehead, and covering his face with his bauds for a few moments, turned to Hubert and Maud, with a look of manly forti- tude, and said— My dearest friends, farewell; remember me in your prayers, and believe me that I shall be able clearly to re- move the dreadful suspicion which at present rests upon me." The old man and woman embraced him ; they tried to speak, but the power of their grief choked their utter- ance. At length, releasing himself from their arms, he turned to the two men, and in accents of firmness and resignation, said— " I ain ready to attend ye ; lead on." Before Hubert or his wife had power to speak) Godfrey de Lacy had left the inn, aud was on his way to the prison. [ To be continued.) THE MAD HOUSE. A most highly wrought story is that of the " Maison de Santes," a private mad house, in France, where these harrowing cruelties were practised. One of the par- ties is a beautiful female, the younger daughter of a French family of rank, who i3 committed to Ihe doctor tor the cure of an illness brought on by opposition to a passion for a young Englishman who is devotedly attached to her. By the contrivance of his eueinies, he also is brought ac- cidentally to this same house, Where it is well known he would be treated wilh extreme cruelty. At the time ofhis arrival, the lady is suffering personal punishment from a scoundrel who is associated in the government of the house, and who is infuriated against her for resisting his dishonourable advances. The following passages will give sotne idea of the manner in which the story is told.— The young Englishman had snddenly turned out of one of the side walks, leading from the garden house, close to that wing of the main building where the yellow doc- tor or devil, hail entered. He held high language with bis friend, aud evidently expostulated in fluent French, al- though I could distinguish only the acute English accent of what he uttered, but not ihe import of his words. But a keener ear and one more accustomed to the tones of his sonorous voice, was close by, to catch enough of the he- loved sounds, whose faintest whisperings could vibrate through her bean. Just, as the Englishman passed under one of the closed windows, the Venetian blinds of which could only exclude his person, but not the speaking evi- dence of his identity, from the dear object within, a scream, far different from the one that had, in the early part of the evening, thrilled through me, burst from the closed windows. 1 never heard so awful a sound of joy. It caine deadened through the glass and the slight wood work of the blinds, with a hushed yet piercing tone. It made me thrill with mixed sensations of surprise and anxiety, for I at once recognized ( he voice as that which had„ before spoken ils agony from the bars of the gardeu house, and I only knew from it that the poor sufferer had been removed from that horrid place. And again the voice did coine ; but no longer in a stiftled scream, as at first. " Edward, Edward, 1 hear yon, though 1 see you not 1 I know you are there— Oh, come, come quickly up— tlv to my help !— the wretch is dragging ine from the window !" A suppressed and smothered utterance of sound was next heard ; but the lover required no more. With an agile bound lie rushed into the low portal, aud all the observers of the scene were in a moment on the spot. The doctors, Michael, and two other servants, darted past me, and the Englishman's companion followed them into the house. I hurried with tne others up the stairs, and though but partially enabli d to understand the relative situation of the two principal actors in this touching scene, I had no hesitation as to the side in which my sympathies were to enlist. When I reached the landing place, which terminated ten THE PENNY PEOPLE'S AND POLICE GAZETTE. The Editor's portfolio seems to afford infinite satis- faction to the numerous readers of this periodical, and we, therefore, shall frequently apply to it for a subject for our leader. Several of our most esteemed corre- spondents have forwarded to us such gatherings as they have been enabled to collect from the most valuable sources, the whole of which we most gratefully acknow- ledge. We are greatly indebted to one gentleman in the' present number. Our object has been, from the com- mencement, to be as amusing and instinctive aS possi- ble, and nbt to suffer a single paragraph to creep into our columns which was not calculated to do one or the other. Hitherto our efforts have been crowned with suc- cess, and it shall not be tor want of any exertion oil our parts if they are not so for the future. Religion purifies our minds and refines our senti- ments, by quenching the fire of lust, by supporting the fumes and vapours of it, and by scattering the clouds'" against the walls, shakin and mists of passion. . By presenting excellence before the people, you gradually excite iu them a taste and feeling for the excellent. Diamonds have iheir spccks, and the greatest men their foibles. Knowledge in regard to the soul, is much the same as light to the' eye. Fortune is painted blind that she may not see the fools who wear her livery. Love is painted blind because painters cannot do jus- tice to his eyes. The bigot of philosophy is seduced by authorities which he lias not always opportunities to examine ; is entangled m systems by which truth and falsehood are inextricably complicated ; or, undertakes to talk on subjects which Nature did not form him capable to comprehend. Terrestrial happiness, is of shjrt continuance. The brightness of the flame is wasting its fuel; the flagrant flower is passing away in its own odours. There arc four good mothers that have four bad daughters:— Truth hath hatred, prosperity pride, se- curity hath peril, and familiarity contempt. Man is a most frail being, incapable of directing llis ste^ s, unacquainted with what is to happen in this life. There is, perhaps, no virtue more necessary in society, or amiable in the sight of of heaven, than a dutiful and affectionate attention from children to the wants and in- firmities of aged and helpless parents. Parental duty is the foundation tie of all moral goodness iu society, and the obedience of children to their parents is the basis of all government, set forth as the measure of that obe- dience which we owe to those whom Providence has placed over us. , What sculpture is to a block'of marble, education is to the humau soul. Of all the things which wisdom has provided for a happy life, none is more powerful, pone more profitable, and none more delectable than friendship. Piety is the only proper and adequate relief of decay- ing men. Letters, the tongue of the world, have in some mea- sure brought all mankind acquainted, and by an exten- sion of their uses, are every day promoting some new friendship. Through them distant nations become ca- pable of convei sation, and losing by degrees the awk- wardness of strangers aud the nioroseness ol suspicion, they learn to know aud understand each other. Man compromises eveiy natural pleasure to acquire fame among transient beings, who forget him nightly in sleep, and eternally in death. Life can only be clouded with fears and disappoint- ments to those whose hearts are callous to the joys of an exalted friendship. The heart has no avenue so open as tnat of flattery, A TALE FOUNDED ON FACTS. BY A. A, L., AUTHOR OF " LUCY MANNERS," " THE DOOMED ONE," & C. •( Written expressly for " The Penny Sunday Times.") " I' the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that, indeed, Which outwardly ye show ?"— MACBETH. In the following tale, it will be made apparent to the reader, that the power of imagination so completely engrosses the senses, when the mind is invested with fear, that reason is compelled to give way before its irresistible force, and superstition usurps its seat upon the brain. The above hall was, in the early part of 17—, in- habited by an eccentric character, well known in the village of Meabouthe, as " Old Jamie Lowther.'? Among other incongruities that he committed, he built, rigged, and manned an eighty- gun ship, which he afterwards made a present of to Government ; and he suffered an incredible number of horses to run wild on his estate. He was, of course, immensely rich ; and was reported to keep a seraglio, a lis fllu? Beard! And, as it was well known that he did things that no other man was ever known to do, it was commonly the rumour, that he was in league with the devil! Be this, however, as it may, Meabourne Hall, or rather ihe northern part of it, was said to be haunted, after the death of old Jamie. Nay, even to this day, tile " auld women" affirm, that of stormy nights Old Jamie Low- ther is to be seen galloping over the fells in a car drawn by eight black horses, surrounded by flames of divers coloured supernatural fires 1 And woe to the luckless traveller who slept in the tapestry room of the old Hall, where it was reported Old Jamie had for- merly kept his " ladies fair ;" most surely would he be skinned alive, or receive some other marks of the ven- geance of the departed spirits. In the course of time, Meabourne Hall became the abode of a very respectable farmer; and, as the ancient place had got a marvellous name, and was seated in a 1' omantic part of Westmoreland, it was sure to be visit- ed by the curious traveller, that he might behuld that place where so many horrible scenes were reported to have taken place. The dark yews that surrounded the Hall, completely shrouded it from the passing wan- derer, whilst tile old heavy mode of architecture in which it was built, and the romantic mountains by which it was environed, made it the exact spot that an author would have delighted to have chosen for a deep anil startling romance. Nor was the traveller disap- pointed, when he was conducted by his hospitable host or the pretty maiden through the Gothic hall, and pro- ceeding to the northern wing ofthe old edifice, passing along a gloomy passage, at the end of which was the haunted tapestry room. The vaulted corridor sounded hollow to his footsteps; and when he entered the cham- ber, his mind conjured up all the horrid scenes he had read in the most thrilling romance. It was late in the autumn that a friend of mine was in Westmoreland, and having some knowledge of Mr. 8 , he called at the Hall, and being fatigued, was easily persuaded to stop the night. Before a blazing fire, and interested in the tales which the worthy family related, it was late before he retired to rest. When he did so, he was conducted, as is usual in the country, to the " state loom," as the tapestry room was now desig- nated. Being left to himself, he scanned round the apart- ment, and a smile played upon his lips; as he thought of the dread the simple countrymen would have, if they were going, as he was, to sleep in that haunted room. He admired the skill with which the tapestry was worked ; and regretted lhat time and age had in some places made devastating progress in the arras. The night was terrible ; the thunder resembled the explo- sion of parks ofarllHpry ; the vivid jightning- blaised in ihe heavens with awful grandeui ; and the boisterous winds howled mournfully through the yew trees, ever and anon sweeping them down, so as to make thein brush against the wall with a horrid crash. In vain lie endeavoured to court the drowsy god , sleep seemed to be banished from that room ; and our hero tossed and iutiibled Oil his bed; like one who had some heavy weight upon his miiid. The horrible tales he had heard concerning the chambers lie was in, now flashed across his memory ; and, although he endeavoured to call reason to his aid, imagination, began to picture fo his mind, scenes wherein Jamie Lowther was predominant. The faint bell ofa distant clock now smote his ear, as it struck the midnight hour; and scarcely was the litst note heard, than a hollow tread sounded in Ihe pas- sage. He had, before retiring to rest, barricaded his door, by placing the large table against it; and now, with breathless agitation, he listened to the step of the midnight wanderer. Tread — tread, walked the nori- turnal visitant; and, after a rustling, as it were of a shroud, a death- like silence prevailed. The thunder rolled distantly, and the wind sank into a low murmur, whilst the before vivid lightning scarcely illumined the room with ils flashes. As everything ismalned sO quiet, he began to sus- pect that the walking he had heard Was produced by his own fancy , but, hardly had he entertained this idea, than Hie mysterious sound again broke upon his ear! The thunder again roared forth; the lightning blazed terrifically; and, as the wind burst violently the Hall with the violence of an earthquake, an unearthly; supernatural groan rose upon the air, which being repeated three times, the place again wore the silence of death 1 Knowing he was in a wing of the Hall entirely uninhabited, and re- mote from the family, he knew it would be folly to call for assistance ; and, as his terror would not allow him to move, He was in an unenviable situation, and would have given the world, could It have procured him a light! The perspiration poured off him most copiously; and we verily believe, that had we seen him, his night- cap was raised some inches from his head. An indefin- able horror had taken possession of his soul, and ima- gination now coming, with all its terrific colourings, to the aid of superstition, he was rendered truly miserable. Horrible phantoms flitted past him, and Ihe noise, which still continued in the passage, lie attributed to proceed from the wretched Jamie, who was being tormented for the innumerable crimes he was reported to have committed during llis life- time. The apartment al- ready assumed a blue tint, and every moment he ex- pected the apparition of some murdered woman would make its appearance, and wreak its vengeance upon his unhappy self. The tapestry round the room kept waving, as though the troubled spirit of some one were passing underneath it, and ever} thing he looked upon seemed lo have some supernatural form or colour. The noise slill continued in the passage, and his blood ran chill with horror, as he heard something brush past his door ; it proceeded a little way down the pas- sage, and then gave an uueartlily- like howl! The wind, at the same time, blew so violently agaiust the window, and the crash of the trees was so terrific, lhat he seriously thought the old Hall was in the possession of Satan. Oh ! then, wilh what unspeakable transport did he behold the first blush of the rising sun ! Still, however, as the pacing was heard in the passage, lie dared not spring from his bed, until his room was light enough for him to discover every part of it distinctly ; and, then dressing himself hastily, he proceeded to the door, and pulling furiously the table from it, opened it. with a desperate resolution to face the ghost, be it saint or devil ! With eyes almost starting from ihetr sockets, he scanned the passage; bill, lo ! ihe ghost was gone! Presently, however, a form came from behind one of the abutments, and lashing its sides with an enormous tail, ihe ghost came rustling to him in tbe dreadful form ofa large Newfoundland dog ! At the breakfast table, our hero told his tale of hor- ror ; and, oh ! the peala of laughter that came from the amiable family during its recital! It became the standing joke amongst them; and many a time had our friend to laugh at the raillery thai was directed- at hiin by Ihe luvely and merry family of Mr. S . It ap- peared that the dog used to perambulate the passages of a night, guarding the house; and, therefoie, his shaking himself, our friend must have fancied to have sounded like the rustling of linen ; and the dog's snor- ing, his imagination exaggerated into the moaning of some troubled spirit. However, after the first burst of merriment, Mr. S said, lhat he considered the affair no joke, and insisted that the family ought to have apprised our frie, nd of the close approximation of the dog - to his chamber. The affair, nevertheless, was long remembered in the village of Meabourne ; and, we doubt not, will recur fo the memory of Mr. S , if ever he happens ta read this humble attempt at describing the laughable circum- stance: We may, perhaps, in our hasty sketch, have forgoltfn some part ot tile scene ; but, on the whole, we trust we have done it justice. Some apology is, doubtless, necessary lo Mr. S , for our having, without leave, made his Hall a theme on which to write a tale , but, having lately heard the tale related by a friend, we could not resist our desiro to indite the above, and, therefore, we ( rust that Mr. S will pardon us, if we have committed any " heinous crime." DRUNKENNESS. A TALE. BY A. J. P. ( Written expressly for the Penny Sunday Times.) " O, thou invincible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be called by, let us call thee devil." " O, that man should put an enemy in his mouth to steal away his brains."— SHAKSPERE. What means ihe immense crowd assembled yonder f At What are their eyes so intensely gazing ? What is the cause of the melancholy looks of many among them P See— there is the gibbet— there goes the cul- prit, attended by the parson and the headsman. NoiC lliey ha ve arrived at the fata! place. The < Ved is done — his life is extinct— another soul Is ushered into the presence of his creator. Having previously heard a few detached incidents of the history of the man who had just suffered so igno- minious, yet just, a death, my curiosity was awakened, and I burned with the desire of knowing the whole. I, therefore, questioned a man in the crowd as to the crime for which he had suffered, and other circum- stances. He seemed by his answers to have been well acquainted wilh the departed, which induced me to in- vite him to a neighbouring inn, and satisfy my desire. To this he readily consented, and the following is the substance of his recital. The man who has just new satisfied the demands of impartial justice, was Richard Weller. Descended of JjHily- respectable parents, he had the advantage of a libera! education, and his parents instilled into his youthful heart the of virtue, morality, and sobri- ety. Richard appeared fo BC improving nnder their instructions, and with his brother, A( ir « J* n(' er! promised to be the consolation of their parents, who ; j'ere now fast sinking in years. Near the residence of Mr. Wellet lived a yoilrijf man of dissolute habits, concerning whose wicked ac- tions reports were very rife. One vice to which lie was particularly addicted, was lhat of immoderate excess in drinking. It was also rumoured that he was a frequent visitor at the gaming- table, where he im- posed on all he Could, with the most arlful knavery. With this man Richard Weller unfortunately became acquainted, and the pernicious effect of wicked counsel and example, was never iriore fatal than in this re- spect. At first, Richard refused to accompany him either to the public- house or the gaming- table. It was not long, however, before the literline ( whose name was Ralph,) so far overcame his scruples, as to persuade him to take " only a drop," though Richard never drank lo any excess, not indeed did Ralph, while in company with his dupe. No great change was yet apparent in Richard, and his parents were delighted, as also were all Iris friends, at his approaching union with a fair, lovely, well- edu- cated, and virtuous damsel, the daughter of a gentle- man, who resided at a short distance from Mr. Weller's mansion. The object of his affections was Fanny Aldersgray, commonly called by her neighbours " the lovely Fanny." Never before did faces beam with such joj as did those of Richard S. nd his fair one on the morning of Iheir marriage, and mucii was tbe foriner commended for the excellent choice whicii be had made ******** We must now pass over a few years. Richard had three lovely children, on whom he doted with all a father's love. In his neat and comfortable residenee everything brealhes happiness. Yet, alas! how soon is the scene to change. It was one night when Riehnrd, at length, consented to accompany Ralph to the gam- ing- table. There he lost immense sums of money, and in a fit of agonizing frenzy, rushed from the house where the gamblers were assembled. A demoniacal laugh was raised by all of them on his abrupt depar- ture ; but Ralph soon followed him. Al first, Richard repelled him scornfully, and reproached bim as the cause of his ruin. Ralph, however, by his artful insi- nuations and protestations of innocence, prevailed on him at last to allow him lo accompany him home. Oil their way they had to pa^ s the public- house to which Ralph was accustomed to grti He, afler much per- suasion, and employing all his insinuating powers, led Richard within its unhallowed walls. Richard drank glass offer glass, until he was, as well as Rfti'^ h, intox- icated. This was the first time he had proceeu- l'd so far. Who can describe the agony of his wife on seeliij him return home in that state ? I will pass over that, painful as it is to my feelings. Soon Richard imbibed a constant habit of spending his earnings at the public- house. Thrice was he fined and severely reprimanded for being found drunk, but this seemed to have no effect upon him. It was evident to all who saw her, that Fanny was fast sinking to Ihe grave, her husband demeaning him- self in such a shameful manner as we have described. Two of her children died for want of food, of which their father, by his wicked habits, had deprived them— the other pining and fretful— herself reduced from a higher sphere of life to the most abject poverty— her friends deserting her— all, all preyed upon her mind, and fatal results ensued. At lait she was relieved from her cares and anxi ties in this world, breathing forth a dying prayer for her husband, ( who at the time was at the public- house, reckless of his domestic affairs), and her remaining son. She yielded her spirit to Him who gave it, and smiling— it was the first smile which illumined her beauteous countenance since Richard had csminenced his iniquitous course — she died. The motherless child was weeping and loudly sobbing over Ihe corpse when Richard came in, intoxicaiHl as usual. His son pointed at the dead body, and ventured to use an expression of blame towards his father for his con- duct. Richard's anger was kindled— his eyes glared fire— he seized hold of the first thing ho eatne near— struck a blow at his helpless son, who fell down a corpse at his feet. This was the crime which had brought oa him such an ignominious end * * Such are the fatal, effects of drunkenness! But whilst we agree Willi Cassio, that " every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient a devil," we may, likewise, reply with lago, Good wine is a good fami- liar creature, if it be well used," remembering that " wine maketli glad the heart of man.'' She fileld, Jan. 1841. " BLACK ANGELS.— The Laird of I'itcaple slept one night in a room, where jackdaws had built their nests in the chimney, from which, early in the morning, some of them found their way into the room ; the good man, disturbed by their fluttering and prattle, thought he was favoured with a vision of angels, till he was sufficiently awake to discover that they were black. It has ever since been a proverb in the country, when one would ex- pose a ridiculous story, to say, " that it was like Pit- caple's angels, of the wroLg colour." THE PENNY SUNDAY TIMES, AND PEOPLE S POLICE GAZETTE.^ ANGELINA I OR, THE MYSTERY OF ST. MARK'S ABBEY. AN ORIGINAL ROMANCE, BY THE AUTHOR OF ELA, 1 TH* OUTCAST { OR, T « E GIPSY GIRL OF ROSEMARY DELL, & C. { Continued from our last.) " The pale moon was j ust riding in the heavens, and by the light which she shed upon the earth, I could distinguish the shadow of a form moving in the dis- tance, and near the spot where we had appointed to meet. ' This must be Gilbert;' I ejaculated, and my heart beat high with efcpefctation, and [ quickened my pace, t came up to the figure I had seen; it was tliulfted up in a mantle, such as I had seen my lover % e; lr, And his ( ace was partially covered with the same. The figure was the same— it was, it must be he for whom I was hazarding so much. I rushed into his arms, and he pressed nie rapturously to his heart. ' Gilbert, dear, dear Gilbert,' I exclaimed. "' Hush, my love,' he whispered, in tones so low that I could scarcely hear them, ' be silent here, we have not a moment to lose ", come, come, let us away.' " He took my arm, and led'me hastily from the Spot, ami I did not offer to say another syllable, but my agi- tation was extreme, so great, that X had great dif ficulty in sustaining myself, and I felt that I was doing wrong, and repented that I had consented to leave my home in such a clandestine manner; my heart reproached me for my ingratitude to my parents. I also felt that Gilbert hail not done as he ought to htve done, in persuading me to elope with him. "' Oh! Gilbert,' I cried, as we approached the Vehicle, which was to convey us away,' suffer me to tetarn home; I cannot abandon my parents thus. 1 Was to blame, very much to blame, to give my assent to this sinful step. Let mo return, and we will put our trust in Providence, who will, doubtless, yet cause Us to be united. " To these solicitations, however, my lover made no reply ; but hurried me towards the vehicle, into which he assisted me, I being at the time almost unconscious ttF What was passing around me, and having followed iiimself, it drove off with the greatest rapidity, and We were soon far away from the neighbourhood in which I had been born, and where I had passed so many happy years of my youth. " ' Dear Gilbert,' I ejaculated, ' alas I why did you not accede to my wishes, and suffer me to return home; my parents will never forgive ine for having thus acted.' *' A loud and coarse laugh was the only answer I re- ceived to this. 1 started and my heart sunk within me. " • Good God !' I exclaimed, ' who is it with me ! It cannot, it is not Gilbert!' "' No, proud, scornful girl, it is not he with whom you thought to elope; it is not the base knave who would have scdnced you to ruin, and brought misery upon your parents, but your affianced hitsbatid— the man whom you have treated with such scorn and hatred, in spite of his affectionate attentions to you, and U15 claim he has upon your heart and hand. up an( i behold yourself in the com-; of Rufu3 Baynard !' " The wretch ti"' 1 • • - lo uncovered his face as he spoke, . uon shining in at Ihe window of the coach, I and the ' lecognlsed his features, now rendered more revolting to me than ever, by the expression of mingled rage and exultation which characterised them. Overcome with the power of my feelings, I uttered a loud scream and fainted. " When I recovered my senses, I found myself in my own chamber, and my mother standing anxiously by my bed- side. She looked at me wilh mingled feeiings of pity and reproach, but I could not bear io en- counter her gaze, and averting my face, covered it With the bed- clothes; and burst into a llood of tears. '" Nay, my poor child,' said my mother, ' do not Weep; you have acted wrong, but I will not reproach you. Compose yourself, and endeavour to reconcile your thoughts to ' "' To Ilufus! oh, never!' I cried vehemently * rather let me die than be sacrificed 10 a being 1 so thoroughly detest.' " ' Disobedient girl I' ejaculated my father, ( who at that moment entered the room,') in a stem voice, ' dis- obedient girl I are yoa still resolved to be obstinate i Was it not enough that you bhould assent lo abandon yoilr home and your parents, to tly with one who could never have sincerely hived you, or he would not have persuaded you to an act which must iiave made you miserable for ever after, hut that you must still further add to your c;;, a( v by continuing 10 oppose my will, lnslea/ i 0t" craving my forgiveness, and making all the reparation in your power, by immediately yielding your willing assent to my wishes ?' Oh 1 my father,' I sobbed, ' pray pardon me if 1 am acting otherwise than as a daughter ought to do ; but I cannot, dare not think of becoming the wife of Rufus Baynard, without a shudder of horror.' " ' Why not ?' demanded my father, sternly. Because I cannot love him,' I replied. ' Oh, my father, there is something about that man which makes me view him with horror ; but to think upon him in tfie character of a husband— oh! I dare not."' " ' Bah !' ejaculated my father, in a tone of resent* ment, Met me hear no more of 1 his nonsense; Rufus is a worthy, industrious, thrifty lad, aud likely to do well in the world;— he is good- looking withal. I know he loves you, and, therefore, I cannot see what objection you ought to have to him, and lo fix all your thoughts and affections upon that scapegrace, Gilbert Merton, whose recent conduct shews that he is un- worthy of you.' " ' Gilbert Merton unworthy of me ?' I uttered, and I felt my cheeks glow wilh indignation as I spoke, ' father, you wrong him, indeed you do; Gilbert is good, is ' "' Ps'Va:' hastily interrupted my father, ' no more t^' is fulsome nonsense; I am not going to listen to a long] harangue upon the merits of the man who would have seduced you from your duly, and probably have brought you to destruction. He shall never be yours; let that suffice; my mind is thoroughly made up, and in a week prepare to become the wife of Rufus Bay- nard I'— " He quitted the room as he uttered these words, and my mother who had stood silently by all the time this brief dialogue was going on, endeavoured to calm the violence of my grief, but I was completely inconsola- ble. Whatever could have made my father so cruel ? he who had previous to this, ever been so kind and indulgent to me, I could not form the slightest con- jecture as to the cause; hut to become the wife of Rufus, I could not bear to think upon without the ut- most feelings of disgust and horror. " I did not leave my chamber the whole of that day and the next, for I felt really too ill, and during that time my mollier was almost constantly with me, aud did her utmost to endeavour to compose me, and reconcile my mind to, that circumstance which she said she was convinced my father was determined should take place. From her I learned lhat my father had bad an interview wilh Gilbert alter he was- made acquainted by Rufus of our intended elopement; but wliat had taken place between them she could not inform me, although he had told her that ' he thought lie had put a stop to the annoyance of Gilbert for the future, and lhat he did not think there was much fear of anything occurring to prevent my becoming the wife of Rufus Baynard.' " On the evening when me and Gilbert met by ap- pointment, Rufus w h o happened to be passing by Ihe spot where wo were sealed, had observed us, and con- cealing himself behind snme trees, overheard the whole of the conversation which passed between us, and he thus was enabled to lb wart the stratagem we had formed, iu the manner I have described. 1 have often wondered sincr , how he could restrain his rage sufficiently to pre- ...... him from seeking a deadly vengeance upon his rival either at til at time or at some fulure period ; but lie did not, and I have seen him several times since my unhappy marriage; and although I always endeavoured to avoid him, and have never entered into conversation, I could see from his pallid cheek, aud sunken eye, tllft the can- kerwocm of care was preying upon his heart! Alas! I can judge his sufferings from what my own have been. But 1 am becoming tedious? I fear. " I will not attempt to describe to you what I endured the lew days only ( hat intervened between me and fu- ture misery ; my father remained inexorable ; I was forced to the altar, and became the wife of Rufus Bay- nald, a man from whom I have experienced the treat- ment ofa brute. For several weeks, 1 was scarcely Conscious of what was passing around me; and in my moments of sensibility, when the recollection that my fate was sealed, rushed upon my memory, I prayed to heaven that I might not survive ; to undergo the trou- bles Which my mind foiboded were in store for me. I must, however, do my husband the justice to say, that he behaved to mewilh great kindness during this period, and paid me the utmost attention ; but he was BO abhor- rent to my feelings that I shuddered whenever he ap- proached me. " In a few weeks the vehemence of my grief was in some measure abated, and I endeavoured lo meet my fate with resignation, since I knew it was sealed past recal. My sorrow had subsided into a calmed, but set- tled melancholy, and 1 endeavoured to perform the duties ofa wife in such 11 manner as my conscience could approve of. I succeeded in a way Which has often shied surprised me to think upon. I endeavoured to forget Gilbert, since he could never be mine, and by dwelling upon him, my passion might increase to that ungovernable degree, that I might be tempted to swerve from iny duty ; and to my husband I behaved in such a manner as could not leave him or my parents cause to reproach me. " I was still living with iny parents, and Rufus— the Baron db Mottoh beingat that time in London— Was Con- stantly with me, and he behaved to me with respect and kindness. However, in a few weeks, a letter arrived from the Baron; ordering Rufas to join him immediately in London, as it was uncertain how long lie might re- main tlidre ; altd offefing at the sattle lime to take me into his service, so that my husband and me might be together. I need not say that Rufus gladly accepted of the offer; but the state of my mind, at the bare idea of my being separated from my parents, and being left to the entire control of my husband, whom in my heart t dreaded, may be imagined without much difficulty. But, what excuse could I offer for wishing to remain behind?— No, 1 dare not faise any objection ; and I could see from the dark looks, and contracted brow of Rufus, that the grief I cvinced at the thoughts of being about to leave home, caused a strong feeling of resent- ment in his mind. " I will pass over the separation, which, as you may suppose, was an affecting one. On the way to London, I did not notice much change in the conduct of my husband. He behaved, in fact, occasionally with even more kindness than he had hitherto done, and endea- voured to reanimate my spirits; and fearful of arous- ing his anger, I made a powerful effort to suppress. violence of my grief; " We arrired in London, and here too soon did Rufus alter his behaviour towards me, and appeared in his true character— treating nie more like a slave than a wife; and, indeed, without the least provocation, using me with the utmost brutality. He was continually upbraiding me for the preference I had given to Gilbert Merton, and he seemed resolved to gratify his revenge by incessantly tormenting me. This persecution was not confined to words alone, but more than once he struck me in the most savage manner; in fact, my life soon became aliiiost unendurable. I did not complain to my parents, for t wished not to make them unhappy, and I knew how truly wretched my father Would be to hear of iny sufferings, and lo know that it was he who had consigned me to them No, I kept my sorrows confined 10 my own breast, and prayed to heaven to givB me fortitude to support them. " The Baron de Morton filled me with disgust and dread the first time I had beheld him, and there were strange rumours afloat concerning him, which causcd him to- be looked upon by his tenants and dependants, wilh terror, instead of esteem. These reports I will not repeat here, Miss, for, doubtless, you have heard them ; but I strongly suspect that they are too well founded. Aud my husband was his confidant al this time, his myrmidon, his creature, ready to do his bid- ding, and bad bach his accdisipiice* ii viae said, in all the uefaridus transactions thai were attributed to Him. Mow dreadful were the pangs that racked ray brain when I thought of this! and lo this man was 1 united by ( lie indissoluble bonds of matrimony. It was dreadful to reflect upon, and I shrunk from it with a shudder. " I had only been married to Rufus a year, before I lost both my parents, aiid I was left entirely to the mercy of my husband, whose cruelly increased every day ; but I was filled to endure much more. However, I was for several years released from his society alto- gether; the baron went on tlis Continent, and Rufus accompanied him, but for some reasons which they did not slate. 1 was left behind, and was sent as a domestic to this Tower. " Need I tell you how rejoiced I was at this provi denlial circumstance I— From w hat a weight of care was I released I— It was like entering into heaven, and I felt quile a new being. My spirits were gradually restored to me, and my health, which had suffered much from the constant ill treatment 1 received, speedily became recruited. How often did I pray that we might never meet again. We but seldom corres- ponded, and when he did write to me, the tone of his letters was all that I might have expected, from the treatment I had experienced from him. " Years had passed away in this manner, and slill they did not return to England, and as I had not re- ceived a letter from him for some time, I began to think that my husband was no more, but he still lived to be the cause of future misery to me. You recol- lect, Miss, the return of the Baron de Morton, there- fore I will pass over that and the subsequent events, and come at once to that dreadful night when you escaped from this Tower, and I nearly fell beneath the dagger of my husband. ( To be continued.) He built him a temple of mouldering bones, And he lit it with maniac eyes.; A choir he formed of expiring moans, For His music is dying sighs. Hurrah '. for King Death, and liis Cold black breath; And his throne so livid and yellow ; \ Vfyen I sail to the port of his deep dark court, May I bound to the rare old fellow ! His liquor is formed out of maiden tears, Which he quaffs from a deep skull- bowl; He feeds With delight on the bigot's fears, SDrino- t. he vicps foul' Which spring from the vices Fouli Hurrah I for King Death, and his Cold black breath ; No pining 011 sick- beds dim ! For bullet, or brand, on sea, or on laud, Shall bear me unto him !— Shall bear me unto him!— shall bear me unto him 1" reiterated the shrieking hag, as her voice died away in the distance Mena trembled, extinguished her lamp, and, shudder- ing, sought forgetfulness in sleep. We shall now pass over the period of the mys'erious prophecy— " A moon shall come, and a moon shall go, And Gvvythaint Castle is filled witb woe ; and take up the thread of our narrative on the last even- ing of the eventful term. It was, as we have stated, evening. O11 the western horizHii, a long, mellow line of sombre red, blended into twilight's silent blue, denoted where the gorgeous sun had glittered, and sunk in his chariot of gold ;— leaving in his wake, like all earthly grandeur, but a fading momento of Time's onward movement. In the east, night crept timidly 011 the footsteps of day; and, cter and anon, a starry eye would peep through the dusky void, as if to reconnoitre the departure of old Sol; and then, another, and another, and another, until the whole heavens seemed crowded with stellar light— amongst which the moon came riding iu her silver car, and shed a hallowed, pearly light oil the sleeping world below. Mena sat in her wonted place, at the casement of her solitary room, silently watching the. departure of day, and the creeping progress of lliahi. Tear alter tear chased each other down her pallid cheek, and sigh after sigh came in quick succession from her almost burst- ing heart. The wedding day had arrived, and Medroff had grown cold, nay, even angry, and forbidding ; and for what poor Mena could not tell. He had not spoken to her for a month ; and, when she requested an expla- nation of his conduct, lie scowled, and shrunk from her, as though she were a toad, or an asp. Perhaps he was jealous: but, no, he knew her too vvdll to entertain a doubt of her constancy. Perhaps'lie Was enamoured wi( h the stranger lady ; a shudder passed through the poor girl's frame : lie Was always with her. At the ris- ing aiid setting of the sun, at noon and in the stillness of night, Gelsina was ever his companion. . Well, if it was so, she hoped he may be happy. For herseifj she would return to the mansion of iier fathers, and drag out the remainder of her days in solitude aud seclusiou. But, there was something so mysterious in the manner of the dark- eyed lady— something so shadowy and vague — that gave to her being an appearance of preternatural agency, and surrounded her, as it were, with an atmos- phere of unearthly power. Once she had seen her, or fancied she saw her, in deep conversation with the pirate Aleppo, who had now perfectly recovered, but, When'she approached them, they seemed gradually to dissolve into air. Another time, she was startled in the corridor, by one whom she took for an ugly obi woman; but, whom she found on a Hearer approach, to be none other than the beautiful Gelsiua herself. ' Twasstrange ! —' twas terrible! What; if Medroff, dazzled by beauty, and supernatural acquirements, should marry an in- carnate fiend. Such things had been, and, perhaps, would be again. She would warn him of his danger;— she would fall on her knees before him, and implore him to give car to her council: nay, if lie would not listen, she would cling to him, and weep, weep, weep, till her very eyes dissolved in tears; rather than he should rush, blindfold, oft a fate so horrible. But, when and where ?— That very evening, nnd ill Gelsina's room - if needed. She would calm her « t » irit$ and prepare her- self for the task. Pour Mena • - *<• « .• . • '> t site should# never again see Medroif. She li'tle expected that v/ l : H she waited, day after day, on the bed of the sick stranger, that, then, her destruction was in progress ; that, then, through the plotting of Gelsina and the youthful Aleppo, Medroff s heart was being estranged Iron) her's. She little knew that Aleppo, unperceived by her, at every Convenient moment, was gesticulating to her in the most passionate tojiens of love, as though she perceived him, and was returning the same with fervour, and that Medroff, commanding but a view of Aleppo only, was a a hidden witness, and pitiable dupe of this juggling dumb- show. She thought not this. She knew, or fan cied, the stranger required assistance ; and, in the full uess of her heart, she rendered it. But, to be the un- conscious dupe of devilish cheats; to be defamed, tra- duced, entrapped, when doiugthe dictates of a good and generous heart, was a climax 10 unmerited cruelty she had not imagined, even when dreaming of the darkest deeds of the darkest villany. But, so it was: and that evening Medroff was informed by Gelsina that his ward, the innocent Mena, would be wandering with the youth- ful pirate on a love excursion, in the quietude of the forest. " if it should be so," thought he, desperately, " I will not thus be bearded in my own mansion, but will this evening give my hand to the beautiful Gelsina, and forthwith despatch the goatish minx and her plundering paramour to old Gawen's mouldering hall, and there let them breed for the honour of the hills i" Poor Mena'.— She was then ou the point of doing him the greatest kindness of which her gentle nature could conceive ; she had nerved herself for the task, and was just about to step from the apartment, when suddenly bis own voice came playfully upon her ear, as if from the margin of Urience Forest on the other side of the drawbridge. She listened— her heart beat high ; it was he, aye, and singing as he was wont to do, when he wished her to ramble by moonlight over the forest liether. until a turning in the path brought them abruptly to the Fairy Fall, where the figure suddenly Jialted; and, turning sharply on the now terrified maid, disC' 0? ™ her astonished senses the handsome but abhorred ; ea" turesof the supposed Moorish pirate. " Ha, ha, ha," laughed Aleppo, as he ran to enclose her in his embrace; " ha, lia, ha," echoed and re- echoed through the surrounding wood. Mena shrieked with terror, and, turning towards the castle, precipitately fled from the spot. On on, she flew, heedless of all but Aleppo's . outstretched arms and his demon laugh. She knew not that tempest had filled the heavens since her entry into the forest., and that the stars were quenched ifl darkness ; she saw not the lightning as it quivered in her path, and ever and anon lit up the trees with terrible distinctness ; she heard not the thunder, as it muttered in the vaulted firmament, and went rolling afar through the silent depths of space. No ; to her affrighted senses, the elements were hushed in the quietude of the grave : but the trees of the forest, on the contrary, were all instinct with life, and returned Aleppo's laugh in a chorus of triumphant demons, stretching forth their shadowy arms, as if in the act of seizing the frantic girl as she fled past them. Still, on, on she flew, with Aleppo's laugh ringing HI her ear — There, aye, there, at length, was the castle !— a moment more and she should be 011 the drawbridge. But, alas! that moment never came. The drawbridge had been raised by order of Medroff, and just as the terrified Mena begati to think herself safe, and 111 the act of passing into the court- yard, down, down, she went— headlong, toppling down that dreadful chasm, from whence one wild despairing cry broke upon the night, and all was hushed in death— death ! At the same time a ball of fire was seen to etnei ™ e from the clouds, and, coming in the direction of" the castle, darted through the casement of Medroff's room j and then the vassals were seen crowding in the court- yard, and something of fire, and Medrofl's death, and the mysterious disappearance of Gelsina, were whis- pered about. In a short time flames begati to pour forth through the different apertures of the casle; aud ere morning dawned, all that remained of the far- famed Castle Craig y Gwythaint was a huge and abandoned pile of smoking ruins! E. she took an unreasonable time in selling a party behind half- a- dozen oranges. Having at length completed th ® bargain, she stepped into the seat occupied by her pur- chaser, carrying away the shawl of the married dame ! n her progress, with an extraordinary large foot, which aelti"" entangled in the said portion of wearing ap- r^ n, ° ed her to tumble with tremenduous force ' , ' into the arms of a corpulent bachelor, who, in ordfr u; » is temper, swore in a most . ' , 11; — manner, his bat being driven terrific and appaUh » • h ora" ba8_ completely over his bloOJi.. f • * aTms?._ the ket belonging to the fair bu. a beautiful oranges, apples, and gingerbread n, ? shower on all sides, to ihe no sninll delij,. scran) t, je of urchins, who enjoyed perhaps the tine*. nsejves they had ever met with before; some giving the^ most delicious thumps against the back of the seato their eagerness lo procure some of the tempting frulv gratis. But I must hasten to ,1 conclusion of this im- perfect sketch. When the after- piece was performed, a struggle, of course, ensued to gain the door first, with the usual uproar and consequences attendant such scenes; but halting until the greater part of the audience had dispersed, I quietly took my leave. The snow which had fallen two days previous, had partly melted during the day, and a severe frost in the even- ing caused the streets ( 0 be repaved wilh one unbroken sheet of ice, on which, before I peached iny home, I saw many a one measure their length on the ground, having myself had the good fortune 1* 0 escape all such uncomfortable and disagreeable contacts. Newcastle- upon- Tyne. R. M. MEDROFF AND MENA. A WELSH LEGEND. [ Concludedfrom our hut.) The resuscitated youth slowly opened his eyes, and, gazing vacantly around, exclaimed, in weak, but dis- tinct and commanding tones, his mind apparently wan- dering on the scenes he had so lately moved in— " Jam up the tiller; bear a baud, ye lubbers; cut away, men', to the keel; more water, water, water, or, by nell, you will all have a roasting before you have time to come to ail anchor ill the next world." " Here his voice became inaudible, and he slowly closed his eyes, still muttering in the same broken strain. Gelsina now desired to be shown to her apartment, which was immediately done by Mena. And Meua, after promising to visit the sick stranger 011 the morrow, retired to her own. Here the gentle girl pondered over the singular scenes she had just witnessed ; but the more she reflected, the more lier mind became entangled with doubts — doubts fearful and terrible. She strove to banish them from her mind, but all to no purpose; when, suddenly, a Joug, shrill woop, like a fury's shriek, came crackling 011 the air, aud broke the stillness of night with a noise so hideous, that it seemed the last despairing cry of some hopeless wretch, whose soul had just burst its frame of clay in a struggling lit of mortal agony ' Twas old Peggy Vauglik. She had lingered aiouud the precincts of the castle, until. a light appeared in Mena's room, and then, partly out of revenge at the treatment she had received, and partly out of an innate love to frighten the timid, she gave, what she usually called, her— " Death Screein;" which was the noise above alluded to, and went trouling the succeeding hideous lines down the mountain pass; alternately stopping to give force to her song, by adding one or two" additional shrieks .— " In a coal black palace of endless night, King Death holds his court supreme ; He wieldeth his power of deep, dark might, As be sailed down life's pale stream. Hurrah ! for King Death, and his cold s black breath ; Aud his throne so livid and yellow ; When 1 sail to the port of his deep dark court, May 1 bound to the rare old fellow ! Meet me, dear maid, when the blushing day wanes, And kisses the dim cheel; of night; When planets and suns ia their sacred fames Just peer with a silvery light. Meet ine when dimness and stillness alone Wrap mountain, and valley, and plain ; Whi n the hushed winds of night, in their gentlest tone, Breathe joy in their own pleasing strain. Meet me, dear maid, at the bend of the Kill, Where the days of our childhood were cast— Where the toys of our infancy bubbled the rill, And fairy dreams blissfully past. Oil, there is the shrine 1 where the vows of our youth Were plighted by heart ® filled with love ! Where the first fond embrace full of passion and truth, Made our hopes swim in bliss from above ! The voice ceased ; and when Mena gazed through the lattice, she could distinctly trace the figure of a man retiring into the fore- t, and motioning her to follow.— She thought it was Medroff, and looked upon the present as a miraculous opportunity for unfolding to him her mind. A moment more and she was in the court- yard, and the next she was following the figure througfi the mazfcs of the forest, in the direction of the Fairy Fall.— But Medroff at that instant was watching her egress £ fom the castle, with a heart fill'd with jealousy and revenge. !- le had been informed, as before stated, by Gelsina, that Mena at' that hour would go forth with Aleppo. He, therefore, took up his station in the Warder's Tower, from whence he could command a view of the court- yard and the forest beyond; and no sooner did he see the words of Gelsina verified, than he gave orders for the immediate raising of the draw- bridge, that he might the more easily be enabled to con- front the fugitives, and thus have a reasonable plea for discharging, them from the castle. On entering the forest Mena saw what she conceived to be Medroff a few paces in advance of her. A moment more and she should be at his side. But strange and unaccountable, the more she strove to come up with him the further she seemed to fall behind: and, yet, there lie was stepping along in the moonlight, as plainly visible as she could ever recollect having seen hiin. " Medroff," she at length whispered, " stay dear ; I have something important to tell you; I shall grow tired if you play too l" Ug." The figure heeded her not. Again, hut wilder; agaiu, and again, and again she called, but all to no purpose, AN EVENING AT THE THEATRE. A SKETCH FROM LIFE. ( Written expressly for " The Penny Sunday Times,'") It being the last evening for the pertormance of a celebrated delineator of Scottish characters, I repaired in good time to the theatre, where, however, to my satisfaction, I found the doors had not yet opened, though a great many persons were wailing for admit- tance. Several ladies were present, and some close to the door enjoying the prospect of gelling the first choice of a seat, kept tip a continual whispering and tittering, while one gentleman, more impatient than the rest, commenced a battery upon the door, under the sitperiotendance of a female, who appeared, from the control which she possessed over his actions, and over the actions of his foot, lo be his wife. The doors Were al length thrown open, and immediately a rush of the foremost into the passage, and a dreadful ciush from those behind, while I, being about Ihe centre, en- joyed the full benefit of it all. One very corpulent lady's bonnet got sadly disfigured, and another's pocket handkerchief was borne from her delicate hand no one knew whither, but it would, no doubt, shortly he ac- commodated with safe quarters in the pocket of some obliging personage. At the same time, the loud crash ofa pafasol reached the ear. I was borne along into the house In the most delightful manner possible by the crowd. Procuring a ticket, at length, I was soon seated in the pit, the second seat from the orchestra.— The pit was soon filled, and I had an excellent view ; but, lo! three enormous bonnets, on the heads of as many old maids, perched themselves upon the seat in front, the largest one effectually destroying any chance I had of observing what was going forward on the stag's, and, moreover, I dare not move from my place, lest I should riot be able to procure another, so con- tented myself by calling to mind the old proverb, that —' A bird in the hand's worfft two in a bush,' and wishing that there might be a speedy reform in making ladies' bonnets. But my attention was next directed to the slage box, into which there entered, with due and Wcoming grace, a party of ^ isters, attended by their brother, in lieu of another beaux, who. after much ado, got them placed to the mutual satisfaction of all par- ties, and then selecting a proper seat for himself, he commenced an instantaneous and vigorous attack on his stiiliy starched shirt collar, which would not, in de- fiance of all his efforts, remain in an insinuating and proper position; but at length, gaining the victory, he very complacently slides a lady- like hand up either side of his coat collar, and by an indescribable yet well- known jerk, caused his coat to set more gracefully on his slender back; when down he strokes the chin of his white, though not unpleasant, face, with the most satisfactory air imaginable, afterwards drawing on a pair of white kid gloves, he looks around and smiles on all, but while so doing, the shirt collar becomes rebsl- lous^, and he goes through all the above operations again. His blooming sisters now commenced a whis- pering nnd a laughing among themselves, casting signi- ficant glances at an old antique- looking lady in a box immediately opposite, who has made herself appear so young again by the simple mode of placing a mys- terious turban of variegated and brilliant colours, over the exquisite front of jet black hair which forms an admirable contrast with the grey locks which have found their way from beneath it. But I believe the sharp- eyed young ladies are enjoying a laugh at her remark- able taste for literature, as she is so attentively en- gaged perusing the playbill, upside down. Atlenglh, having satisfied her CHsiosity with respect to the con- tents thereof, she raises her venerable head and head- dress on high, and perceiving a middle- aged gentleman of her acquainiance a few boxes to the left, she nods familiarly to him. A pair of gold spectacles on ihe extreme tip of this gentleman's nose, causes him to ap- pear extremely well, moreover, he takes snuff in abun- dance, to the great annoyance of a modest young female seated next to him, as it is occasionally flying into her sparkling eyes by some mysterious mistake for ihe nose of her neighbour. It would 1,3 an endless talk to give a description of all the different characters to be seen at a theatre ;— from the sober and experienced old man down to the thoughtless young English gentle- man, and from him to the sweeper of chimnies, from the aged darae to the newly- married wife, or Ihe blooming children who gazed round with unconcealed astonishment, and fancy that all they see is real, and all they bear is true ; but how can it be otherwise lhan pernicious to the infant mind to see nnd hear such falsities as are invariably presented in a play, it must certainly leave some bad impression, which time can. not efface. Their youthful judgments cannot be ex pected to teach them to draw good leason from what they see. The play soon commenced ; but ere fhe third scene concluded, a scuffle took place, a little to my right, which greatly alarmed the old maid whose bonnet so much discomfited me, and turning round to see what occasioned Ihe disturbance, she displayed a withered face, though that does not signify all, her front teeth were in their proper plac « s, but she had in all propa- bility forgotten to fill up the vacancy before leaving home. The quarrel took place between two very smart young men, wishing to dispossess a diminutive boy of bis seat, which liberty his opponent sleadily resisted, and by way of illustration sainted the other youth with two uot very courteous boxes on the ear, who. however, ( having succeeded in wedging himself in,) took no further notice of the compliment at the time, intending, no doubt, Intake summary vengeance on his enemy at a more befitting opportunity, perhaps with a great quantity of powder and a small piece of cork from the barri I of a large pistol. Any one might see by the old maid's countenance, during this engagement that she was congratulating herself on her wonderful foresight in refusing all ihe splendid offers of marriage which regularly fall to the share of all the very steady females belonging to hi r class, for now just see what way ward and quarrelsome creatures men are. At ihe termination 0; ( he play, a woman selling oranges, de- sired to step ecross, but when she had procured a loot, ing close to n: y side, and between me and a married dame, she completely s » t eff her establishment, while THE MINSTREL'S TALE. BY ANDREW JAMES M'UOUALL. Ju sunny days— in days of yore— y " hen pleasure had a sinless birth; 1 dreaC1' not time had care ill store To el « vd my manhood's after mirth. And soi iauvh'J fr? mye" toyear>, . And gatherd >? ow rs> and lruit' and J° y > A stranger still to v', rrow, s ffr. So happy was the ! i).'., lstrel b° y- Life seem'd to be a cloud. l" ss dreara Of heav'n'y bliss and endlcO ' ^ - Flowing, unchecker'd, like a strt,? m : All calm below— all bright above. But boyhood passed, and manhood caH^ e> And yet no sorrow mark'd my brow } For still I knew not guilt or shame— Oh! would I were as sinless now! For hill, and rock, and stream, aud dell— And all that's beautiful below— Around me flung a magic spell, That caused my heart's warm blood to glow. For still I did not cease to love The waving trees and perfumed bow'rs, My childhood prized so well to rove, In search of summer's fairest Sow'rs. But tho' my heart could still be gay, And feel the same pure wild desire, An object started in my way, That changed the passion of my lyre. It was a bright and peerless one, That flash'd upon my heart and brain; But ere my matchless prize I wo ® , ' Twas snatch'd from earth and me again. A fond and timid child of earth, As ever graced this world of ours ; Aye, pure as aught that, ere had birth in Eden's bright and cloudless bow'rs. For all the things that I had prized, Tho' far less dear— yet still caress'd— 1 found she, too, had idolized And foster'd in her virgin breast. She lov'd me— oh 1 tis sweet to love!— I11 secret, silent, and unseen ; While hope shines brightly forth above, And earth seems like a fairy scene. And long we lov'd unknown to all, And this it was that made it seem More holy o'er our hearts to fall- More like a bright unearthly dream. But soon a change came o'er that scene, For fate ordaiu'd that we should part; And all, that once so bright had been, Fled like a rainbow from my heart. For I, the minstrel boy, had sprung From those who left me but a name ; And long my lyre I'd vainly strung, To win me wealth and worldly fame. For he, her sire, had gold and lands, And pamper'd vassals at his call; And countless friends, with open hands, Pressing to bear the rich man's thrall. So, when I claimed his willing child— E'en tho' we urged our suit with tears— He call'd my prospects vague and wild, And wither ( 1 all our hopes with sneers. I turn'd away, an alter'd man, Crush'd by a sordid demon's spell; And fled before the proud one's ban, Tho' she 1 loved— lov'd on as well. We met— but once again—' twas nlglit, And all 011 eayth was hush'd and still; The stars above were shining bright— The dew around was falling chill. A fountain from a grove of flow'rs, Rose glitt'ring in the moon's pale beam, That faintly lit the perfumed bow'rs That shadow'd o'er its lucid stream. And there it was we met to part, Where we had often met before ; When hope was strong in either heart, But blighted then for ever more. We met — we parted— years fled by, Again I stood within that vale ; The fountain sparkled still on high, The moon was beaming calmly pale. But where was she— my plighted one— The spirit of that fairy scene ; Whose trusting love my lyre had won, When hope within our hearts was green ? Twined with a myrtle wreath decay'd, 1 found a little marble urn. Beneath a drooping willow's shade; It told me all I sought to learn. Would that the pow'r to me were giv'n, To soar w here that pure soul hath flown ; She should not dwell alone iii heav'u— 1 would uot pine 011 earth alone. Regent's Park, Dec_ 1840. SERGEANT KKLLY.— Sergeant Kelly of the Irish bar, was a most curious character. He was, in his day, a man of celebrity. Curran gives us some odd sketches. The most whimsical peculiarity, however, of this gen- tleman, and which, as Curran described it, excited a general grin, was an inveterate lmbit of drawing con- clusions directly at variance with his premises. He had acquired the name of counsellor. Therefore, Currau said that he was a perfect human personification of a non sequitur. For instance, meeting Curran one Sunday, near St. Patrick's, he said to him—" The archbishop gave us an excellent discourse this morning. It was well written and well delivered; therefore, I shall mak » a point of being at the Four- Courts to- morrow, at ten." At another time, observing lo a person whom he met in ihe street, " what a delightful morning this is for walking!" he finished his remark on the weather, by saying, " therefore, 1 will go home as soon as I can, and stir out no more the whole day." His speeches in Court were interminable, and bis therefores kept him going on, though every one llioughi he had done. The whole Court was in a titter when the Sergeant came out with them, whilst he himsell was quite unconscious of the cause of it. " This is to clear a point, gentle- men,'' he would tell the jury, " that I am convinced you felt it to be so the very moment 1 stated it. I should pay your understandings but a . poor compliment lo dwell on it for a minute; therefore, I shall now pro- ceed to explain it to you as minutely as possible." Into such absurdities did his favourite " therefore" be, tray him. vt& a sae the PENNY SUNDAY TIMES, AND PEOPLE'S V6ttCft GA2Eff&< dFragnifnt^ for tTjc furious. LORD CHIEF JUSTICE HOLT.— When Holt was Lord Chief Justice, he committed some enthusiasts to prison The next day, one Lacy, who was of the same i". rsu sion, went to his house and asked to speak The porter answered, his lordship'was net! and ., L, i,„ CyhiT^„ ed tb"-' he « Mt speak to the Lord. When the SJfjcatrrs*. , » „ - obtained admittance.^ " 1 '"" Zi the Lord, commanding thee to y could not be seen, him, for he was sent to him bv message was delivered, be come," said he, " ~ grant a 7wliproser^. lg hi9 failhful B,, rVants, whom thou hast unjusttv coimn; t( Bll to prison."—" Thou canst not certainlv Bave fome fr() m ,| le Lord," replied the judge, ' Q'. ne would have sent thee to the Attorney General, nowing very well that it is not in my power to grant thy demand. Therefore thou art a false prophet, and sbitlt go and keep thy friends company in prison." Holt would not have disconcerted this prophet by his logic, had it not been backed by law. Fanaticism and bigotry are proof against logic. When the pictures of tbe Virgin Mary, at Rome, in 1796, moved their eyes, and all Rome crowded to see them, one of the pictures squinted,— and the squint was admitted to be a part of the miracle. ROSA. UY II. MANDElt MAY, Sacred so. unds the passing bell, As 1 mourn o'er Rosa's urn ; Each vlbiatiou seems to tell, " Rasa never will return." Noiseless spot, and deep the grave, Where my Rosa's form must lay ; Youth and beauty could not save," i Death has torn my love away. ** Happy flowers," would llosa sigh, " Sweet your life, and quickly o'er< When shall hopeless Rosa die, * When shall Rosa be no more}" Long I struggled with the stc, nll Dashing billows long i- j )> rave- Rosa, dreaming, view' fo, nl' Hov ring o er a <- Mcl. y £ ravc. Wor- dngrose " jpolj | lt, r fears> vviiete amy love?" she frantic cried Downey lo() k3 confi|. med hel. fVars, "'\' sa shivered, sighed, and died. COL01'^ OP SCARLET.— A Highlander entered a haber- dash' r's shop in Perth, aud asked for a piece of scarlet w'jth to make him a waistcoat. The rustic manners of the Scot set some young women who were at the coun- ter a giggling; and the shopman, w illing to afford thetn sport, bejran to play off his small wit upon the stranger. " So, good man, yc want a piece of scarlet? Would yoa know scarlet if you saw it?" " I think I wood," scfeplied tbe mountaineer. The shopman threw down a piece of blue cloth: " Is that scarlet ?" " Hout, 110, no! that no be it." A piece of green cloth was pro- duced ; the same question was asked, and received a similar answer, to tbe great amusement of the querist and his female friends, who were at no pains to conceal their mirth. The Highlander took revenge in l is own way: he put his nose to the cloth, and affected to judge of the cloth by the smell. The shopman at his request did the same ; but the instant he bent his nose towards the counter, the Highlander seized him by the ears and made his nasal protuberance come m such violent con- tact with the boards, that the blood sprang from it.— " Tat," said the Highlander, " is ta colour o'scarlet do ye know, lad ?" and away he walked. TO ANNIE. Nay, weep no more—' tis over now! X cannot brook that tearful eye- That growing care upon thy brow, Speaks but too plain what thou wouldst try To hide within thy gentle breast; But, oh 1 it finds an echo here, In wilder tumults unexpressed— In blighted hope and growing fear. Nay, weep no more, for I'll impart Nought oF my wrongs to thee again; I cannot wound t'ny gentle heart, 1 will not F'. ve one moment's pain ; Nor can ', l„ ok upon thy cheek, StJ. il titleless and so pallid o'er— I Cannot hear thee calmly speak Of bitter pangs unfelt before. Let fortune frown, it matters not," So thou but meet me with thy smile; Her scurvy tricks shall be forgot, For thou canst sadder thoughts beguile. Nor will I heed the empty sneer Of those whose object is to pain— Of those whose ever- ready jeer, Upon themselves recoil again. Tlieu weep no more— for, oil 1 thy tears Engender in my bosom pain! But banish from thy breast those fears, Nor let them euter it again: For 1 will meekly bow to fate, Aud strive from memory to blot My many wrongs— my present state— Nor will 1 murmur at my lot. When I have sought the solitude Of woody glen and silent vale ; Or, when at morning's dawn I've stood, And heard the sky- larks soothing tale, The wildest dreams I then indulged; Those phantoms of imagery— Those aspirations uudivulged, Were doubly realiz'd in thee. Manchester. JOHN EUDO LEWIS. ELOQUENCE.— Mr. A I) made his maiden speech at the bar yesterday, and concluded thus:— " Gentlemen ofthe Jury, the simple question to be de- cided in your minds, is this, will you permit the per- secuted and afflictiouated victim of the most audaci- ously- contrived concentrated malicious conspiracy* to be { matured iu the venomous toad und slimy snail- cre- ating dungeon of the stone jug at Slug Sing ; or, gen- tlemen, will you acquit bim from the foul, blackening, tstiginatiziug, and degenerating slanders which have beeu cust upon his pure, noble, immaculate aud bene- volent character. Will you not restore him, gentle- men, to the honourable standing he once occupied among his large circle of wealthy, venerable, and re spec table friends, that be may once more enjoy the lux- ury of domestic happiness, aud amid the cheers of the surrounding multitude, peregrinate within the charming precincts of his commodious cellar, and lesume his oc eupation of opening oysters." It is, perhaps, need less to remark, that the young lawyer's speech sue ceeded, and the oyster- dealer on the Canal street plan, is now making excellent stews in his six by nine esta- blishment,— iVtic Era. SONG. Cease, rash lover, to upbraid Hertliou lovest— she's afraid ; Oh, yekuow not; half tbe worth Of woman ! choicest gem of earth. Though she heedeth not thy wooing, Vows of passion keep renewing ; If she frowns ' tis but to smile, -. or she loves ye all the while. i— nough the flowers ye present her Lie unwelcomc, still toivient her; If she vows she hates ye, smile— ' For she loves ye all the while. Cease, then, cease thus to upbraid Her thou lovest— she's afraid; Oh, ye kuo. v not half the worth Of woman ! choicest g » m of earth. JOHN OKTON. THE TRAVELLERS NONPLUSSED.— Captain Hall, whose stories have charmed all who have read them, was one day endeavouring to enliven a remarkably stiff and dull dinner party, by a few oral relations of the same kind. He concluded one of a very extraordinary character, by saying, " Did you ever hear any story so wonderful as that ? ' and at the same moment his eye chanced to rest CoVr. NT GARDEN.— The Midsummer Night's Bream, and the pantomime, affords us no opportunity of notic- ing any novelty for the present at this theatre, and we should say, from the crowded state of the theatre every evening, that Madame would be to blame to withdraw them for some time to come. We understand that several new pieces are ia active operation. HAYMARKET.— Success still continues to crown the efforts of Mr. Webster, and the two months granted b\ the Lord Chamberlain, in addition to the regular season, appears to be likely to fill the coffers of the manager. We shall take an early opportunity of noticing any novelty which may be produced here. ADELPIII— Agnes St. Auhin ; or, The Two Husbands ( the tide of a new domestic drama performing here,) is decidedly one of the best of its class, and has made the greatest hit of any piece which Yates hr. s produced this season. The plot is rathei complicated, but ad- mirably constructed, and the situations and incidents of the most powerful description. The author displays much talent, and has drawn his characters with con- siderable ability. The language is also very chaste and forcible, and in many instances rises to excellence. The scenery, dreB « es, & c., are capital. We need not say that nothing is wanting on the part of the per- formers, when we state that the characters are sus- tained by Messrs. Yates, O. Smith, Lyon, Wright, Mrs. Ya'ss, Mrs. Keeley, & c, 11 is nightly received will; unbounded applause, and we have seldom seen a ' irauia more deserving of it. I SADLER'S WELLS.— Homier produces novelf? after novelty iu such rapid succession, that die denizens of Sadler's Wells anil ils vicinity, can never lack amuse- ment. The name of the last new picce is The Guerilla Chief ; or, The Last of His Nanle, iu which Mr. J. S. Balls performs the principal character. It is an in- teresting piece, and is well received nightly. The pantomime has lost nono of its attraction. CITY.— The Wild Irish Girl is a capital hit, and Miss Vincent plays die part in exquisite style, singing with even tnore thau her accustomed sweetness, and llumpur. It must long continue a favorite at this theatre, The Deeds and Doings ofthe Dork House ; or, Simple Sue. of Billingsgate, ia played nightly to crow Jed and delighted audiences, and deserves well the applause it receives. PAVILION.— The other evening we witnessed the per- formance of a new drama, wiitten, we believe, by Mr. Hart, and called Jane, the Licensed Victualler' sDaughter, at this theatre, and are happy in being able to speak in term3 of praise both of the piece itself, tha manner in which it has been brought forward, nnd the way in which the performers exerted themselves. It is a do- mestic piece of deep pathos, and there is a deal of in- terest in the plot, which is well worked out. It was very rapturously applauded throughout. Sam Slick all'ordei Yankee Smith an opportunity to display his outre abilities lo the best advantage ; but we abominate such intolerable buffoonery. The new drama called Ela, the Outcast; or, the ( ripsy of Rose- mary Dell; founded on Mr. Prest's highly popular romance of that title, has made a decided hit; but we have not space this week to do full justice to its merits. Mrs. Denvil has performed her task admirably. ROYAL ALBERT SALOON.— We are gratified fo find that at our old friend Brading, is going on as pros perously as his best friends can wish, and we trust that he is reaping an ample profit. We have often had occasion to speak of the Albert Stilobn as one of the most rational places of amusement in London, and we have no reason to alter that opinion. Let ihe reader only examine the bill of fare, and observe the galaxy of ( alent engaged, and the variety of the entertain ments; and when he comes to the bottom and sees the charge is only sixpence, we question much if there is any one who wishes to pass a few hours enjoy ment, who will fail to visit this establishment. OLD A LEGEND OF SAINT PAUL'S, BY M. H. AINSFORTII. ( Continued from our last.) A MECHANICAL. WATCHMAN, In the copper Store- rooms at Sheerness, there Isa watchman who does duty night and day without pay dr provisions, which is not the only quality that renders hiiiy valuable to the lovers of economy, as lie neither plunders himself, nor suffers others to do so. A more ancient, but, at the same time, more efficient Charley cau scarcely be found. This protector of public pro- perty is an ingenious piece of machinery, consisting of a painting on wood, which is placed in a position com manding a view of the store- room. It resembles a door in form, aud presents at first the figure of a Grenadier, with the pointed cap and grotesque uniform ofthe olden time, bearing a musket and standing in the attitude of a sentinel, l'he moment any one touches or picks up anything in the room, whether it be a bolt, or a socket, or piece ofjpipe, or any othei' article iti the places the door turns oil a piVot, aild ill going round strikes an alarm bell, aiid gives Warning to the store- keepers to be on the alert. The Grenadier appears again, but he has changed bis appearance, his musket is grounded, and bis countenance indicates a determination not to be trifled with. If the attempt to remove any of the store is repeated, he turns again and gives a second signal, and thus he continues to act as often as anyone dis- places the smallest article. The painting itself is said to be upwards of a hundred years old, but is not of a very choice description. It is admired because of thfe purpose to which it is applied, and valued oil account of the effect it produces amongst the workmen, for since this guard has been mounted, peculation in the copper store- room has been almost unknown, and it is believed could not escape detection. The artisans aud labourers employed ill tbe dock- yard have more dread cif this au- tomaton pOliteiilatl thitl they wtluld of many who though appearing to possess intelligence, are but auto- mata. The inventor of Ibis machine is one of the store- keepers, but he keeps thesecret of its motion to himself, notwithstanding that tbe Lords of the Admiralty) and other persons of high rank, who bave wituesscdits gyra- tions, hav « much wished to bave tbeir curiosity upon this point gratified. The contriver, however, rightly judges that the whole value of his watchman is de- pendent upon the close custody of the secret of its prin- ciple of action. There is only one spring perceptible ill the joints of the stone flooring, and this is pointed out to the visitor, who may cause tbe figure to turn by pressing with the right foot, but that effect cannot be produced by using tbe left. This spring, however, is only a device, or at least a poor apology for not un- ravelling the mystery— for let a person stand where he may, aud touch any of the propeity, be is sure to be de tected. on a foot- boy opposite to him, who, without leaving moment of interval, exclaimed, " Yes, man, there's a lass I our kitchen that kens a lass that has tiva thumbs on de hand." Two countrymen from the Derbyshire hills was look- ing at a piece of coral; at last one of them concluded It must be a petrified cauliflower. CAROLINA INK.— Qtieap way of procuring it— thrash- ing the negroes til i thev crv and catching the tears.— American Paper > A FRENCH MARRIAGE PARTY.— In our present tour- for we have now been talking of older experience— wi had the got. d fortune to fall in With a marriage party pro ceeding to Houfleur, to spend the while day of their lives. They were of a class higher than the peasantry, but lower than the gentry, although dressed— at least the females— with absolute extravagance. This, however, is nothing uncommon ill Normandy, where a servant girl frequentl; carries the whole of her earnings in the form of lace upon her bead. It would have been impossible for us to have discovered, amongst the three lovely and most radiant faces before us, that of the bride," had we not remarked the different species of homage she received from her at- tendant. The oblations offered to the other young women were a mixture of politeness, gallantry, and even love, which they accepted with a proud consciousness, mingled with a playful and graceful coquetry. On her part, there was a grave, calm, and earnest loudness in the look which she fixed on her betrothed ; aud when she did not look, we could see a shake upon her brow, and a cloud in her eje, as if het young spirit were already busy with that unknown future to which she had given heisell up. The feelings of the bridegroom seemed lo be divided between love and pride ; his arm was round her waist as one having authority; every word, every glance, ever) gesture seemed to sav, " She is mine .'" We were soon ui'dway, where the great ocean stieun sweeps in to meet tbe waters ofthe Seine, and our vessel began to roll, and plunge, and stagger. Presently the fair ( ace of the bride became pale— she looked distressed ;— md we watched, with Intense curiosity, the effect which the catastrophe we saw was coming would have on her lover. The Frenchman was as true as steel; he hi Id her head while she leaned over the vessel's side ; and t ie first thing she did when she got up again, with white cheeks and tearful eyes, was to thank him for his kindness with a kiss. In France this is nothing. CHAPTER VII. A RtPtfLSfe. The few words that has passed between Eustace and Martin Palliser when they met in the street, were suffi- cient to fill the former with alaim for the safety of Marianne Lester. Hebelieved that she it was who had been striken with the plagile, and, in an a£ orty of grief, for the supposed danger w'uii which she was threatened, he was huriyingon towards the house of the goldsmith, when lie was startled by hearing his name pronounced, and, turning sharply round, he saw Oliver Deyncourt pursuing liim at his utmost speedy Pausing for ag in- stant, in no very good humour at the interruption, the other came up to hiin breathless from the exertions he had been putting forth. " Egad, my friend, taut T had nearly lost sight of you," he said; " the obscure route you have thought lit to take from Alsatin, is a complete puzzle for a man ; and I had almost given up the pursuit in despair, when a man that 1 just now passed gave me the information I required to follow the chase to a successful termina- tion." " And, vyhy have you pursued me ?" asked Eustace, " Because I did not feel inclined to suffer our brief acquaintance to be broken off so abruptly," answered the other, " I have followed you from your late hiding- place, and would now prevail upon you to go with me to a place where I occasionally pass away an hour or two." " And, where is that i" " Oh, at a house, a little way from here." " Who shall we meet there j" " A few choice spirits!— men of the world, that pass away their time in pleasures, that you perhaps bave never had an opportunity of joining in.'' ' erhaps, then," exclaimed Eustace, " they are equally worthless as the men whose society 1 have just left ?" " No," answered the other; " they are people of ood birth and family ; men that have rin through for- tunes and now seek to repair their folly by rattling dice aud dealing forth certain pieces of pasteboard." " Gamblers 1" " Aye, so ihe world calls them— they are, however, good fellows enough, when you know them, aud would scorn to cheat a friend,— when they think he is wide enough a « - ake to be aware of them." " And, these are the nten you would introduce me to 1" " What if I do ?— May you not pass your time as profitably in their company as where you are going }" " How do you know," asked Eustace with surprise, " to what place I am directing my steps P'' " Why, a child might have guessed that," answered Oliver Deynconrt, " do I not happen to know that you arc in love with pretty Mistress Marianne Lester, the rich goldsmith's daughter?— Are yon not now within a short distance of her father's house, and should I not be a fool to doubt the motives that have brought you here ?" " And even if you are right," exclaimed Eustnce, " does it follow that my steps are to be dogged by one who has no business to interfere with my concerns i" " Nav, be not so angry, my good friend," answered the other;—" I am your friend, or at least you ac- knowledged me to be so when I took you to the sanctu- ary a few days ago,—' and being unwilling to see you plunge headlong into ruin, I Would caution you lo abandon this romantic affair, and forget that you have ever had the misfm tune to see this wench." " Rut 1 have laid a wager that I will carry her off wilh her own con- ent, and surely that is a sufficient reason wily I should pursue my project to a close." " Then take my word for it, you will lose," exclaimed Oliver;—" the girl"; father ajid mother are vry dragons for watchfulness; and, therefore, I see very little chance of your carrying yrrur design to a successful termi- nation." " 4 am almost, iti about it, myself," answered Eustace, gloopiily. " Her father's apprentice, Martin Palliser, just now passed me ; and from the few words he deigned to bestow upon me, I hear that the plague is in his master's house, and there is but too much reason for me to believe that Marianne is the victim." " In that case," exclaimed the other, " you surely will not be fool enough to venture where theie is so much danger to be apprehended !'' " But t shall, though," answered the young man. " In truth, love is a. loadstone that few of us can resist; and, yielding to its powerful attraction, I shall pursue my fate even though it may lead to death itself." " Well, well," cried Oliver Deyncourt, " I see you are ob- tinate; but, peihaps, you will take the little piece of advice 1 am now going to give you ;— wait an hour or two before you enter Ihe house ;— by that time the, old folks may be asleep, and, then— provided the girl has not been stricken with the plague— you may perchance obtain the interview you require; and, if your tongue possesses any charm, you maybe lucky enough to bear her off, and win the wager you have made." And why," asked the young man, " should I delay for a moment ?"' " Because it will be more prudent to do so." " But, what am I to do with myself till the time you speak of has passed away P" " Go with me to the place I have named; you will there see men whose acquaintance may be worth the cultivating, and, at any rate, no harm can possibly come of it. 1 But, t have very little money with me, and, there- fore, cannot engage in play." " there is no occasion for it." replied Deyncourt; " it will be sufficient that you see the men assembled there, aud, if you like them, as t believe you will, you can afterwards visit them more frequently." Euslace St. Clair yielded to the importunity of his companion; and believing that it would be better to postpone his intended visit to Marianne for an hour he acquiesced in ihe proposition, and followed his on- duciordown two or three streets, until they caine to a house, before which Deyncourt suddenly came to palise. A signal that he made was quickly replied to — the door was opened by means of a spring, and entering the hall, they passed on towards the further end, frurn whence they proceeded to a handsome salooh, where numerous ' parties were engaged in play of various descriptions. At one table, however, Eustace recognised three persons who lie knew well, and towards whom he immediately hastened, glad of meeting with some familiar faces in a place where his heart sickened at the semes of profligacy and vice that met his view. Sir Lionel Preston and Colonel Lutwich greeted him wi'h an exuberance of joy, that told plainly enough they had been winning ; Cran- broke, however, took no notice of the gree ing, but sat with clenched teeth, and filed, motionless eyes, that betrayed the paralyzing effects of his recent losses at play. But his sufferings only served as a joke to his two heartless companions, who, having placed a chair for Euslace near themselves, began speak of tbeir own good fortune, and ( he ill luck that had attended Cranbrook. throughout the whole play. " And there he sits," continued Sit Lionel, grinning, with fiendish satisfaction, " the very image of despair — a ruined, bankrupt man, destitute of money, and, perhaps, afraid or ashamed of returning to his pretty wife, who he has involved in his own destruction," " Speak not of/( er, Sir Lionel," exclaimed the^ ierson that had been alluded to ;—" name her not, I command you, or my rage may soon grow ungovernable.'' " And if it does, what care I for it ?" returned the other, with provoking coolness; " I am used to see men out of temper when they have lost their money, aud, therefore, I would advise you to keep your threats for those that may he intimidated by ( hem." " I care not how you insult ine," answered Crnn- broke, " but again I caution you not to mention one who is dearer to me than life itself." " It seems she must be very dear to yoa," replied the knight, scornfully, " seeing thai you have lost all that she brought you at her marriage. However, she is a pretly creature, I must confess, and if she should happen to leave you after this affair, I know not whe- ther I might not be iuclined to take her under my pro- tection." " Villain 1" exclaimed the unfortunate matt, starting from bis seat, and preparing to rush upon his insulting antagonist; but before be could do this, bis arm was vr r —-, seized hold of by three or four others, and forcibly ( street, fentoiiville, will be attended to, conveyed back to his seaf. tftat he mad,' TO NEWSPAPER PROPRIETORS AND MASTER PRINTERS. THE Advertiser, for many years accus- tomed to the making up of Papers, and the ma- nagement of an Office, is desirous of offering his ser- vices to any gentleman who may require the same.— Letters ( post- paid,) addressed to S. W-, 10, Vittoria- You see, gentlemen, that lie is mad," cried Sir Lionel, u pon finding that he was thus secured lo prevent any mischief taking place; " the simple fool can make up his mind to come here and ri. k all that he possesses in the world, but the moment fortune frowns upon him, his temper grows ungovernable, and those that have been winning are to be threatened with his violence." "' Tis false!" cried Cranbroke, still endeavouring * o break away;—" I care not what you say to me, but again I caution you not to utter a word lhat may be construed into a slur upon my wife." " Nonsense, man!" exclaimed Colonel I. ntwich, " my worthy friend, the knight, means no harm by what he says. The truth is, he loves every pretty woman he meets wilh, so that there is little wonder that he should speak with ndmlrafion of Mistress Cran- broke." " The fact is," cried Sir Lionel Prfisfon, " that I have reen and admired the lady; it seems, foo, that « he is to share in tbe ruin this man has brought upon hlrtisetf, and that being the case, if she ihinks fit fo leave him, my door shall be open to receive her." " Wretch I" vociferated Cranbrnke, " you are too contemptible for tiie chastisement you deseive." " Perhaps so," retorted tfie other; " and yet for all that I 6hall use my best skill fo Make her mine. Aye, you may grind your teeth and show your fage as much as you like, but this very night will I pay her a visit, ancl it shall be no fault of mine if I do not prove as victorious as I generally am in these love affairs." And so saying, the knight strode out of the room, and instantly quitting the house, took his way towards that part of the town where Cranbroke lived. It was in vain that the wretched man endeavoured to follow the man wild had so grossly insulted him;— he was securely held by five or six others, and whilst he was still struggling to release himself, Eustace SI. Clnir and Deyncourt hurried from the scene of confusion, and shortly afterwards found themselves on the outside of the house. " And whither are you going now ?" asked Oliver. " To the house which contains my Marianne." " You are still resolved then to prosecute this foolish business}" " 1 am;— in fact no persuasion in the world shall ever chahge my purpose. " Then 1 have done," answered OeynC. mit j " but if any mischief should coiiie of it, remember it will be through no fault of mine." By ibis time they had reached fh'e doof of tfie gold- smith's house, when taking from his pocket a duplicate key, with which he was provided, he entered the place, leaving his companion to blamo his imprudence, and wonder bow all the affair wonld end. Having given himself admittance, Eustnce cau- tiously ascended Ihe stairs, until he reached the land- ing in which was situated the apartment of Marianne. A light from a half- opened door gave him some hope that his errand would not prove altogether fruitless, and stepping towards it, be perceived the maiden seated at a table, and leaning her head upon her hand, as if she was engaged in dnep anil serious meditations. To present himself before her was his first impulse, and creeping cautiously into the chamber, he had advanced almost inlo the place where she was sitting, ere bis presence was detected. At length, however, Marianne was startled by the sound of his footsteps, and looking up, she uttered a faint scream of surprise as she beheld who it was that had thus found admittance to her chamber. " For heaven's sake he silent 1" be whispered; " hitherto 1 have contrived to pass on without dis- covery, and now I fear your cries will attract hither those who would; cruelly separate us for ever." " Dear Eustace, this is most imprudent," cried the maiden, struggling to release herself from his grasp ;— your presence will be detected, nud then means will betaken to prevent our ever meeting again in future." " Then 11 y with me, dear Marianne," exclaimed Ihe young man, " and we may bid defiance to the unjust tyranny they seek to exercise against us." " That I must not— dare not do, without further time for consideration," she replied. " Here I have ever found a safe harbour, and never will I quit the roof of my parents until I do it with their permission." " You are resolved then to part from me for ever?" " On the contrary— the thought of never seeing you again would till my heart wilh tbe deepest agony." " Then why let slip the only opportunity that may ever offer to secure our happiness ?" " I have told you, Eustace, that I will never leave home unknown to my parents," " In that case," he replied, " our present meeting is likely to be the last we shall ever enjoy," Marianne paused to reflect, and hoping that he saw a chance of prevailing over her scruples, he threw himself at her feet, and earnestly implored her to fly with him that very moment. At that juncture, how- ever, Mrs. Lester entered the room, and perceiving a stranger on his knees before her daughter, she raised an outcry that speedily brought her husband and Martin Palliser to the room. It was in vain, therefore, for Eustace to offer any opposition, nnd laying the fainting form of Marianne upon a couch, he dashed furiously from the room, and hastily descending the stairs, soon found himself in the street, where Oliver Deyncourt was still waiting for him. " Well," lie exclaimed, " how hast thou suc- ceeded ?'' " She is lost to me !" muttered Eustace. " For the present I suppose you mean >" " I fear for ever !" " Indeed !— then suppose we have that doubt set- tled at once," answered Deyncourt. We will again visit Doctor Drax, the astrologer, and from liiin 1 dare say you will learn your destiny, be it favourable or otherwise." This suggestion was eagerly caught at by Euslace St. Clair, and still gloomily meditating upon the scene that has just passed, lie accompanicd his companion to the house of tile astrologer. ( To he continued.) EXTRAORDINARY SUCCESS!! PERSONS AFFLICTED with Nervous and Bilious Complaints, Diseases of the Stom- ach and Head, Weaknesses, Deafness and Discharges of the Ear, Scurvy, Impurities of the Bloo'tand Defects of lie Skin,, Coughs and Asthmas, Rheumatism, Lum- bago and Palsy Wind, Crump and Spasms, Weak and Inflamed Eyes, Worms, Fits, Piles, & e. may lai l the best advice and medicines for a charje so small as to suit the poorest patient, bv applying personally,, or by letter ( post paid), at the Medical Institution, a few yards from the North Gate of Haggerstone Church. Brunswick- street, Hackney- road. Hours I" till 6— on Sundays 9 till 4. Numerous Cures have been effected. Observe—" Medical Institution" in front ofthe house. NOW READY— NEW EDITION. Price Is., ( Post Free, Is. 4d.)— Five Plates, with Portrait. THE LIFE AND EXPLOITS OF COMMODORE NAPIER. Off Alexandria, Oc » . 5th, 184ft " The smartest affair is yet to be told. 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