PENNY LONDON:— SUNDAY, JUNE 27, 1841 I THE CIDEVANT ( SEEDY OKtV | HORRIBLE MURDER OF MR. SMITH The man ihat has seen better days, The cidevant, ' tis very plain, Is ably represented here, And may be > ee them once again, Each one the histrionic powers Of this aspirant must admit; The ghost he's laying, as we see, And has at Hamlet made a hit/ n a populous town in Scotland, James Brown, who for manyyears had followed the occupation of a silversmith, died, leaving a widow and a son, whose name was Johu. and then only two years of age. About a year after the death of Mr. Brown Mrs. Brown departed this life, and left John to the will of divine Providence. He was immediately taken to the workhouse ; but a gentleman who had known bis ather for many years, promised to maintain him till he arrived at an age enabling him to obtain a livelihood for himself. He did so aud had him clothed, and, at a proper age, sent hiin to a classical school at his own expense, where he made so much progress in his studies, that, at the age of fourteen, a merchant taking a fancy to John, made him his clerk. Mr. Jones, for that was the name of the merchant, was so fond of him, from his good conduct and discipline, that he treated him as his own child. But before we proceed in our narrative, we would wish to state that Mr. Jones was a widower, and had a daughter whose name was Marv, very nearly the same age as John, or we should rather say a little older ; but she was very fond of John, and he was more so of her. Mr. Jones plainly perceived her love and always addressed her thus,—" Mary, Edward *, neVeI ^ m'itecl 10 Jo,, n> for >' ou 1 now how frequently I have promised This Edward of whom Mr. Jones spoke, was a young man who often visited him, but to whom Mary did not show much affection ; and as often as her father said the j above, the more she disliked Edward, aud loved John. " For," said she, " rather would I die than marry one I hate, and reject one 1 dearly love." These words were like daggers in the hearts of Mr. Jones aud Edward ; and they plain y proved to Mr. Jones that she would never have Edward ; but he was resolved she should. " And why do you hate Edward ?" asked Mr. Jones; " I'm sure he has done nothing that you should reject him." " The reason is," replied Marv, " because 1 love John better." A little while after this, as John had gone out one evening, " Mr. Jones looked over the accounts— a thing he was not apt to do- and perceived among some papers a note, which was about to be sent from John to Mary, for the purpose of < mininz Mary s heart from Edward. On his return, Mr. Jones desired him to quit the house, and said he would never allow hts child to become the victim of his seduction. John had now served Mr Jones seven years, and during that time not a stain on his character had been found. He went to th- house of a friend named Young, who was not ahogether very honest, and of him he learnt many bad habits. About three months alter, as John and Young were walking by the si le of a neighbouring churchyard, they perceived a multitude of persons assembled round a grave. 1 liev asked it any one of note was going to be buried, as there was such a concourse ol persons. " Yes," replied a man, " ' tis a merchant named Jones, who was a very liberal! ana good- hearted man " " Heavens!" exclaimed John, " can it be Mary's father?" and next moment JEALOUST! OR A DUEL ON THE TILES. J. y , one of our first- rate painters, had the happiness of possessing a beautiful wife, and the mis- fortune of being exireinely jealous. For some time past a young officer, distantly related to his wife, and who availed himself of the connection to pay her fre- quent visits, excited our painter's uneasiness. One Sunday J. F engaged his wife lo take a walk on the Boulevards. " We will diue at the Cal£ Anglais," said he, " and then go aud spend an hour at the Vaude- ville." Madame F objected to go out, giving some trifling excuse for uot gratifying her husband's wish. " Go out," said he, " if you like, and ainus Go if amuse yourself. I do not feel well, and shall go to bed very early." This refusal seemed very suspicious to J. F , who went out with the intention of returning home long before the hour he announced. At seven o'clock he went home, passed the porter's lodge without saying a word, and was close to the door of his apartment, when he perceived a man iu uniform putting a key into the door. " Ah I" said be to himself, there's the cousin ;" aud then with a formidable accent, he exclaimed,' You were not looking for me, but I was looking for you." These words were no sooner utiered than the person to whom ihey were addressed hastened up stairs. " You coward," shouted the iuluriated palmer, " you shall ' not escape me thus ;" and rushing into bis apart- ment, lie caught up Ins sword and pursued the fugitive, who, wishing to escape his pursuer, got out of a garret- window on the roof of the house, whither he was fol- lowed by J F . " Draw, aud defepd yourself!" exclaimed J. F , JEREMY PICKLEBY. BT H. ANUBR MAY. AUTHOR O* " R08INA DB VILLIARS," & C. & C. • B. bold the queer aort ofa man, Who Htm to do the belt h « can. Jeremy PicVleby resided in a large and lofty chamber in one ot those spacimn maniloni in one of the lonely and deserted ( ho. roughfarei of 8oho, which, once npon a time, were In Ihe fashion, hut which are now occupied by a medley of professional!— infh " foreigners, musicians, actors, and dancing- maiter!. The radiance of the ailn through the windows, encraited a fog of duli in We room, which had been treasuring Into a heap of the lame article for the tait two or three months i but as •• the only i » dy" who condescended to officiate ai domestic of ail- work had undertaken to furnish ail the wanti o lotir hero, and ( our others of the iei<- • ame gentleness as Jeremy, who lodged in the lame house,— luctt aa breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper. On the£' tnd of June, 1840. our hero was half- sitting, and half- lying upon aM aderi and worn- out couch," hl « eyea were in a fierce freniy rolling, probably idealizing aome immortal imagination. 1^ " The Morninr Advertiaer," of the 19th lnlt., " Bentley'i Miscel. laoy," and " The Penny Sunday Times," were at his aide, and a two monthi' old magnaine at 111! elbow. Hli imall table itrewn over with dog'i- eared hooks and rough sketches.— Letters written by hlmaelf for ihe public paperi. wilh the remnant! of hli break- fasti the remain, of an old fashioned tea- set, h- ring the variety that not on. of the dealgna corresponded. The coffee- pot on ita aide, crumb! of itale l, read. the specimen of a red- heiring— tha re- mains consisting ofthe back- bone, and half- and- half sort of head. In tbia bachelor- tike disregard to amartneal, he wal around by a loud knock and ring at the door, and before he could poiiibty « ait hi! eye! round to see If thing! were In proper order, tha stranger WM admitted Into thii intellectual apartment, cr, to ipeak la mi literary term— luittf of room. Mr. Slmoh Sapplib, the new comer, wai a itout, buoad- iet man, whoie look! determined him to enter into nething but what waa highly profitable, not even poverty, for poverty learned very fami- liarly intimately connected, if not a friend, perceiving thoee ilgna ind Kali with which that amiable divinity brand! and mark! her diiclplea. Mirk— hie bat wai brown, scorched, and beaverleii,— hi! coat letting in the wiod at the elbow! an* out again under the armi, and a! rusty ai old worn- out iron. Hli ihoei lo fractured, that no looner did the water enter at the toe! than It wai out again at the heeli; hli atockingi rather attenuated, and hilfingeni making a very good morning through the end! of hi! giovea. Thongtt Jeremy wai not IO affluent In circumstance! al be wai wont to be, but with all hi! Irregularities, was afraid of contagion, and re- • ponried coldly to the itranger'i cordial hold out of the haod. " What l don't yon know me!— What! do you mean to lay yon don't know your old ichool- feUow Simon Sipplah — Simon S*" Ah! ? li t youHid Jeremy, starting. " Ah 111 it you!— Will — and how are yon " But I lay, Jerry,— excuse me calling you Jerry,— wire you » chain made to ait upon I" Poor Jeremy made a itride toward! the neareit chair to remove the varioui burden! it wai already bearing, inch « i eld boon, wrapping paper. Sic. i but the itranger. much quicker in Mi mo- tioni, juit gave It a hasty ihake, and threw Id content! upon the floor, and then, approaching tbe table, said, " Nothing like making yourielf free end eaiy." [ " I Witt speak ts you in a few minute!, old boy, laid Jeremyi " I have to finish a poetical enayfor a young lady, and I promised . her positively that she ihould have it by tbli alternoon. Will you excuie me for five minute!'" . " Certainly," responded old Simon, who, letlng tbe half of a I half quartern of bread, commenced an attack, declaring that it was a moit dellcloui cruit. Jerry had no tooner finished ma | poetical emy, than feeling something cryout food— food, be glanced hli eye round, and, to hit utter aitonkhment, perceived bii friend finilhing the lalt remnant left. " I wai confoundedly hunjry, ray dear friend- eicuie my making free with jour commodity, old chap," laid Simon, tapping Jeremy on the shouldir. But, k lay, how goel the world with you— brlik, no doubt t' " Not very well,- 1 feel tarnationally hungry," laid Jeremy, , with a tap on hii exterior corpora.—" hungry, very hungry. " I am extremely lorry for that," aaid Simon, with a imlle. ' " but, leaving that queition out of the way,— 1 came to tell you that I wilh your opinion on the word woman. Woman,— let ! woman be the word. I lay (— woman, thy name ii fraltty.— That, I I think, being extempore, ii very fine— a capital imitation of Shak- t spare s ityle of writing,— don't you think ii, aye. old boy I" Jast after thii Imitated recital, the house- clock itruc* leven, when Jeremy Intimated to hli Mend that he had to take the ch. tr ' at a social meeting of frlenda,— highly reipectab! e, very lelect, 5 tobeb , lden at" The Qualiereii," public house, close by the aquwe. " But, I say, Simoo, haven't you a better lult of clothe! to put 1 on your back than tkeie ! If you had, I eould Introduce you to a number of gentlemen, who think no more of itandlng a bottle of wine than f would of giving yon all I had In the rapbuarf." " Capital I flue I" eiclatmed Simon, ai he lifted up the disho- noured veilmenti, and proceeding to disencumber h'maelf of the coat, af which we have already pointed out the similarity to a great many estates, and a waUtcoat that wai growing eldarly. began to tt occupy the vacant ihelli ofthe abient friend. " What. Jerry, see you not thii cloth bag! Lord bles! you I I have one of tke moat lf creditable lulti that you would wilh to le* In a day'i walk.— New, " when I put theie on, Jerry, I'll lay a wifcer you wouldn't know 5 me. Ii there any pretty quakemsea where we purpoie vision*, eh r" d « Ah I" laid Jerry, " the houae called " Th. Quakereia,'' is ire- d qaented by nearly all the • ver. liei' In the neighbourhood. Simon began togging hlmielf, intimating « iat hli particular „ friend Jeremy Plckleby must oblige him wilh half a bed. Ihey then took their way toward! " The Quakereii,'' Simon reciting aa 6 he went out of the room:— " if when done, ' twere well done, Twere well ' twere done quickly." d V To be, or not to be— that is the queition, , s Whether'til nobler * , , „ , Simon wai itopped In thii theatrical imitation by tha landlady intimating to Jerry that ihe must have the little account Httlad, n If it wai convenient, that it was five week! in arrear. " Very well, my darling." laid Jeremy, " wait ia my room to- is morrow morning, when I will aettle with you." Th « y than descendeo the itain, out of the door, into the street, rj opposite to where " The Quake eia" publtc- houie wai iituat » d. RE MUADER UPON MURDER.— The St. I. ouis Republican says:— Some months since we noticed the murder of Mr. Woodbury Massey, at Dubuque, M. T., by two persons named Smith, father and son. They e caped punish- it. ment by the decision of the court before which they he were indicted, ou the ground of want ol jurisdiction.— „ A few weeks ago we recorded the death of tbe elder Smith, who was shot down in Galena, by Henry L. Mas- sey, a brother of W. Massey. And now we learn from the last Galena Advertiser, lhat a week or two previous,, • f" Miss Massey, a sister shot Wm. Smith, at Dubuque. , w | and that the wound will probably prove mortal. T he all ball entered Smith's right fide, just above the thwd rib, 1 and lodged. they perceived a young man and woman, who were chief mourners ; when I he young woman, on seeing John, could no longer uphold herself; she fell breathless to the •• round. These were no others than Mary and Edward, who bad come to take the Fast view of Mr. Jones. John and Young went home to condole with them lmme- diately after the interment. , , A month prior to this Mary had been united to Edward ; the above was the only cause of Edward renewing his acquaintance with John; but John did it merely for the sake of revenge. John asked Edward what was the cause of Mr. Jones s death, and being told he had died suddenly,-" Ah! thought he that will be the cause of your death." John had often told Young how he disliked Edward ; and Young, as we have before said, was a notorious character, and. was ready to do anything for money. They passed the evening very sociably together; but John s heart was to- wards Marv. At length, supper time came, which, being over, they all retired to rest, but Jibn did not sleep. In the middle of the night, he and Young rose, and went into the bed- room of Edward. Johu seized Edward, and stabbed him to the heart; while his companion, at the same time, dealt him a dreadful blow with a hatchet. They then broke open a few locks, and so forth, that Mary should have the idea that the house had been robbed, which, with the persuasion of boih them, she believed. They divided the money ; John took the business of Mr. Jones, and Young went away— but whither we cannot avail ourselves of the pleasure of inform- ing the reader Mary and John were united, and lived amicably for five years after ^"^ One night as they had just gone up to bed, tbey were astounded by a loud knocking at the door. They went down, opened it; it was who- Young ! '' What the deuce brings you here, after five years absence ? said John ; and why should you come at this hour ?" " I want money," said Young. " Then none shall you have here," replied John. ,,..,„ . , „ " Then I shall arrest you for the murder of Edward Smith, cried Young. " Liar!" vociferated John, " where are your proofs?" " Here," said Young, drawing from his pocket a handkerchief stained with blood. " This handkerchief has the name of John Brown written on it; tis the one you used the night you murdered Edward." " Coward !" cried John, who saw himself in a situation that was not very easy to be cleared from. ' You shall have the money you deserve." So saying, he drew a dagger, and plunged it into the heart of Young, and was about to stab himself, but Mary slopped his hand. , , , The cries of the dying man attracted many persons round the bouse, who be- holding the atrocious deed, swore they would take him to receive the justice of his jUlm< e'yon shall," said he, " but not alive," and immediately stabbed himself with a dagger, which was reeking with tbe blood of Young. i Ma'y lived six mouths after, bewailing her loss, but, at length, died a lunatic. 1 Such was the end of suppressed love. N- UIAS. vain, and not knowing what to do, he sat down in an arm- chair and soon fell asleep. Poor J. F- was in the mean time on the top of tbe house ; and it was not till day- break that he was able to extricate himself from his painful situation, and he got home about seven in the morning, half dead with cold. " You see," said Madame F , when she saw him, " what your conduct exposes me to. Ou awaking this morning I found a mau in my room." " A man!" " Yes, sir, a soldier, drunk most probably, who had got in here, no one knows how, and whom the servants have sent to the guard- house." " Poor fellow," thought J. F——'—, " his discretion shall tie rewarded." He instantly went to the guard- house, and caused hu late antagonist to be released. It is to be hoped that J. F will henceforwarc trust less to appearance, and that this lesson will cur< liim of jealousy. Kathmines, near Dublin. JOHN HODGINS. NEGRO BON- MOT.— A negro in the island of St Christopher had so cruel a master, lhat he dreaded th, sight « f bim. After exercising much tyranny amonj his slaves, the planter died, and left his son heir to th esiates. Some short time after his death, a gcntlema meeting tbe negro, asked him how Ilia y*' ung ma. tar b< haved. " I suppose," says he. " be's • « HMP « f the ol block ?" " No, no," says the negro, ' » he a hlmsk himc. 1T " " Sir, you are " " Defend yourself, or I'll run you through the body." In an instant the swords were drawn ; but, unfortu- nately for J. F , a cat, alarmed by tbe clashing of the weapons, rushed between his legs and made him fall. His opponent availed himself of this occurrence to disarm J. F , and to request an explanation. " You are not Captain Walker," said Ihe painter. " I do not know Captain Walker," said the other.— " I am a non- commissioned officer." " Why were you opening my door ?" " I was going to fetch Sarah, Madame F ' s maid, who is my cousin and whom I had promised to take to a ball. Sarah gave me a key to come in quietly, in case she should be with her mistress." " Why did you run away ?" " I was afraid of an explanation, because it might have caused Sarah to be scolded." " Well," said J. F , " it is very lucky I did not kill you. Now let us try to get back as well as we can." This was, however, no easy matter. A plank belong- ing to tbe garret- window had been displaced by the non- commissioned officer, and thrown down by the other, and a large chasm existed, which it was very dif- ficult to get over iu ihe dark. What was to be done ?— At last, after a long consultation, it was agreed that the lover of Sarah should gel down a. chimney, which would lead into some room, and then proceed t" extricate the painter from his disagreeable situation. The young man in consequence went down ihe first chimney he came to, and found himself in a " com, which was com- p'etely dark; he groped about ? find a door, but iu WORSHIP STREET, PHE BATTLE or THE PUMP; OR SAINTS I>. SINNERS. — The perambulator about that neighbourhood, maybe aware that in the immediate vicinity of Tabernacle Square there stands a pump, which, for some time past, has been monopolized by a set of Would- be saints, y'clept, ranting street preachers, whose holding forth has been a consi- derable annoyance lo the neighbourhood, and the cause of numerous pockets being lightened of their contents, of course, unknown to the pious persons above mentioued. Amonif the ignoiant ranters who are ill tbe habit of here holding forth," is a certain mouldy faced converted Israelite, with a mottled beard, and his head surmounted with a low- crowned, bioad- briinmed, phantom of wliai piobably has some fifteen or twenty years since been a white hat. Another is a ghastly lookiug young man, of emaciated, waier- gruel constitutioned appearance, and eyes, whose expression is always that of a dying duck.— This poor fellow is always accompanied by a lady of sable complexion ; only our gallantry to the fair sex, whe- ther black, brown, white or red, forbids us, we should com- pare the complexion of the mahogany female above al- luded to, to that of a half- toasted monkey— at any rate, a more excellent representative of Mrs. Crow, eould not be wishrd for, or one that would make a more admirable black doll for a rag shop. Mrs. Mahogany tries her de- bilities in the ranting way, aud those who have read Massa Sambo's sermon, may form a pretty correct idea of her style and capabilities. Well, these three individuals were placed at the bar, charged with creating a great disturbance the evening before, near the said pump, and it was found necessary to take them to the station- house, where they were placed in durance vile till the morning. It appeared, according to the statement of the policeman and several other wit nesses, that the animated female, black pudding, was a perfect amazon, and. assisted by the young man of lb- w- ter- giucl complexion, was pulling the mi fortunate Is- raelite's beard with one hand, while she hammered awavas hard as she was ahle, at bis upper works, with the other Water- gruel made several ineffectual attempts atdamag lug the bread- basket of the taming sinoucliey. A great m « b had collected ; and some of the witnesses described ihe temale prisoner to have been in a towering passion, and to have raved until she was black in the face. Tin female defendant, herself, protented that in the affray she had received a couple of black eyes from the li. iey. MAGISTRATE—( To ihe leinale.)— Well, prisoner, what have you lo say to this charge of riot and assault ? MRS. TEAPOT.— Massa Samnels mopolhe de pump ; an' ilat bery great shame ; ine and broiler Gawk ins prearh dr ensnel dere ver a long time— bery much long time, in- deed. MR. GAWKINS.— Yea, verily, sister Bumbo speaketb the tru'h ! Hum!— oh! MR. SAMUELS.— Ma tear, dat is yer vurship ; I denies dat ' pon de vord of an houesht man and a Chrishten !— De pump vas mine long before dey come ; but dey belong- to anoder society, and dey vants to ' jtct me. So vhen I goes for to commence my religious funk- shuns lasht night, ash 1 hopes to be saved, Mrs. Bumbo comes up to me. take me by ma peard, aud callsh me a hypocrite ; au slit DO sooner said dat dan she begins to pommel nie light and left, assisted by Mr. Gawkins, un il 1 vasli little bet- ter dan von lump ot jelly, au should have been killed, had not de police mated up. MRS. BUMBO.— OH, you wicked man, to say dese tings • ov von ov de fair sex. It vos you dat strike fuss ! Ma. GAWKINS.— Yea, verily, sister Bumbo spcaketh tin truth! Hum!— oh! MAGISTRATE.— The police have strict, orders to take al pers ' Ha into custody collecting a mob, and disturbing thi public peace; in the present instance, you must, each o you, find good secuiily for your good behaviour, and ii yon are brought before me again I shall commit you ali to prison as rogues aud vagabonds. The three prisoners not hring provided with the neces- sary bail, were removed to the lock up, and thus ended the tale of a pump. PERSEVERANCE. From the earliest agts of the world I have provec myself the friend and pan on of mankind. 1 havt leveled mountains, have made valleys even, and pro- vided laiment and food for mankind. With my help man, from an ignorant savage wandering in ihe woods i* made a member of society, enjoying all the bless ings of civilization. Science, unaided by me, canno sn demonstrate itself as with my assistance. The key of knowledge is eutrusied to my safe keeping. I knov the worth of science wilb all its host of beauties. Al and every contrivance to sofleu the miseries am ameliorate tbe sufferings of humau nature, if not in debted to me for their formation, are at least for theii completion and advancement. Gold and power, thougl ahle to do many and great things, are yet uuable to in trodnce themselves to the temple of wisdom. I havi corrected the most singular defects in body and mind, The moral defects of our nature have in a great mea sure been bettered by my instrumentality. The blim have been taught to read ; but without my help thei efforts would have been unsuccessful and disappointing The menial wants of thousands I have supplied. Bu no discouragements which ciiciimsiaucescan present,— no impediment which Mature can oppose, can; dis courage my votaries. How often have I raised mei from the depths of the most abject poverty, to rani with those in the palace of learning, and inscribe thei names on the tablet of Fame, as durable as Time hseli TffiJ DEATH GRASP; OR, A FATHER'S CURSE! BYTHX AUTHOR OF " ELA, THE OUTCAST," ETC. ( Continued from our last.) chained both Annette and Heuri to the •^ SpOTpWraT. ho lattei on beholding his mother enfolded in the arms « f B strange man, became alarmed, more especially as she was insensible ; he was, therefore, the first to Weak silence, and advancing with a boldness of demeaiMur that could not hav « been expected at bis age, li « demanded who Adnlphe was, the reason of his abrupt intrusion into the Hall, and what was the oc- casion of the condition in which he beheld his mother. At the sound of the " boy's voice Adolphe looked up from the pale countenance of his wife, and fixed upon him an • ® ger glance,, in which was fully expressed all those powerful rulings that at Ihe moment rushed tumul- tuously to his heart. As he gazed upon the form and features - of that noble boy, all the fond sentiments of a father filled his bosom, and in a voice half choaked with a8rt? yBWf, he ejaculated ;— " He « ( 1, dearest, noble boy, I— but let me conquer my feelings until another time ;— girl, to thy care I re- sign thy mistress;— look well to her, and she will shortly recover;— our interview for the present hath probably been long enough;— but tell her that I will see her again to morrow." Thus saying, Adolphe once more impressed a fervent kiss upon the lips of his wife ; resigned her to Annette ; grasped the hand of Henri vehemently, and exclaiming " farewell," he hastily quitted the apartment, and hur- ried from the Hall. For a few seconds after he had gone, Henri stood in a complet e state of stupefaction totally unable to under- stand the meaning of the circumstance; and yet there was something in the voice, the words, the manner of the, stranger, that rushed upon his mind with the most Painful force, assimilated with the events of other days, and which, although he was only a child at the time tfwy happened. Were stamped upon bis memory in char- acters that time Could not efface. His features, too, careworn as they were, were still familiar to him, and the poor boy stood in a state of trembling suspense, and watched tfee slow recovery of his mother wilh the most intense anxiety. At length, by the care of Annette, Madame de Fiori- ville, was restored to sensibility, and opening her eyes, she looked eagerly around the room, and then starting, • he cried in a voice of alarm;— " Ah !—- not here ! not here!— whither bath he gone ? — Pr, was it only a dream?— yes,— it could not bave been reality;— the dead could never arise again in form » o tangible!— And yet, melhougbt,— nay, 1 could have sworn that not many minutes since he stood before me ; — that he revealed himself to me; and told me the story of his sufferings;— and it was so ;— I am positive of it; — oh, tell me, whither has he gone, and why did he so abruptly depart ?" Annette, who was all on thorns to know who the strange visitor was, delivered to ber mistress the mes- sage he had charged her with, and was in hopes that she would then divulge tbe name of Ihe man, but in that she was disappointed. " Loft me, and so soon " Madame Laurette ejacu- lated ; " and yet I ought to be grateful to him for it ;— I cannot lopk or think upon him without horror,— and TO fie ileepept affection contests that sentiment!— Ah! spe, the portraits of my parents uncovered!— Good God ! sure IV they frown upon me I— And now I could " ISV'ff sweitr ( hat their lips move as though they would breathe a malediction upon me I— Can it,— is it only ima* iff » t » on ?'' She fjjtjpd her eyes Steadfastly on the portraits, and hpf bosom heaved with emotion. Annette stood gazing on in stupid amazement, while her curiosity was ex- cited K » an almost insupportable degree. Henri listened tc| the words of his mother with increased surprise and agitation, and when he beheld the wildness of her man- ner he became dreadfully alarmed, and in tones of the mi>* t vehement supplication, he cried,— " Pit, my dear, dear toother, why are you Ihus vio- lently. affected ?— 1Tell me, I beseech you, what has oc- curred to cause Uils, and who is that mysterious man whb Ms but just left the Hall ?" " Ah ! piy sou, VM^ 0U here ?" ejaculated Madame de Floriville, for the first time noticing the presence of the boy ;—" didst thou, then see him >" " I did," replied Henri, " and there is something iri hif nj » nn* rs, his words, and features that ha? created an indescribable feeling in my breast. Methinks I have srtHj trtm before! and yet I Cannot recal to my mind - '' My poor boy;" aried Madame Laurette, " thou haKtliideed, sfcftti him before ; but^- I must corttjiier this afttliMih^ Arihette, thott cSnlrt retire," " Pardon me, Madame," returned the waiting- woman, loitering, and much disappointed at the order of her nHStrtSfcj jest at the Very moment her curiosity seemed tliiely tpe ab out to fee gratified, and Madame Laurette abo « t to divulge the real character of the mysterious visiter,—" pardon me ; but— but— have you quite re • jO^ ered from your late illness, Madame, and the fright '{ I can ring, should I require thy services, Annette;" interrupted her mistress, impatiently. ABAetU B. r^ eyed, aiiJl reluctantly obeyed ; but she took good Care to wait outside the door, w. ith her ear to lie key. hole, to listen to whatever cohversation might ' * e - place bHWfeii Madame de Flor. iville and her son, b^ iPf determined, at all hazards, to have her curiosity ( ratified. I4 Dear Henri," ejaculated Madame Laurette, after Anpettfi had . quitted ( he room,, add she had Sufficiently ' •. cpvered, herself It^ . bpcAk ;—" . pear Henri, thy mother V- th this day met with an adventure, which seems too MttHl& e to be true. AH the early troubles of her life Wore Vtfidly Hpiiii her recollection, '. b4 it * eems as ijf jjgf former miseries were about be- ing Mewed with redoubled violence. The man tbou ^? Ah71iy0*. ttotWt," Wfcerly interruptsd jHenri, i implore thee to set my anxiety at rest, and inform teS Who he ii; and for what purpose he hath come Mther." " My poor, boy, . partner of all my troubles, partaker of all my vicissitudes," sobbed forth Madame Laurette, " ijlou Shalt know ; but, ere I reveal the name of that iijibappy mafi, 1 Wartl thee thou must cease to rd- menpber him in the character of " Madame de Floriville hesitated, and gasped for bfedth, while her frame was greatly agitated. " Cif wbiit. de* r i^ oi. her J'' hastily implored Henri, f " Thy father I" solemnly replied Madame de Flori- ville, and With a deep gtoan she sank on a chair, and " No, my child," replied his mother ; " hever, never: — heaven forbids it!— Oh, Adolphe, wretched man ; to what a terrible alternative hath thy crimes driven me! — But it is maddening ( o reflect upon it!— Henri, re- member my words, and as thou lovest thy mother, eijudeaVour to obey them. Nqw, now ;— pr'ythee leave me, ; ny child;— 1 wish to be alone." " Mother, dear mother," said the affectionate boy, clinging to ber, and looking up with supplicating fond- ness in her face t " X do not like to leave thee while thou art thus agitated.'* " Nay, Henri," returned Madame de Floriville, " I must be obeyed. There,— there,— get thee gone, my dear boy ; and, fear not for me ; X djj but wish tp com- mune with my own thoughts, and to prepare my mind for the second meeting with my unfortunate husband, to- morrow.— Adieu!" Madame Laurette kissed her son two or three times wilh the utmost fervour, and when she had with diffi- culty torn herself from his embrace, she pollited to the door, hy which he slowly made bis exit, and when he that our plate will not arriw& for a fortnight. I wish to engage some plate from ylffu ; and as the quantity will not be small, I am satisfiedto deposit a couple of hun- dred pounds for the use of a^ cexlailt number of articles to be delivered immediately, as tho officers are to be here this night.'' Mr. West expiessed the liveliest gratification at the proposal, and stated that he would be but too happy to comply with it. " The fact is," said the soi- disant officer, " my own name is West,— and as I am a stranger in the city, knowing nothing of its inhabitants, ! could not hesitate in giving my namesake the preference on this occasion. Pray what is your Christian name ?" " James," " Ah then, there is the difference, miiie is Jacob." The silverarticles were quickly packed upand placed in the coach, the bill was made out of the amount, it was under 2t) 0i., but the stranger insisted upon leaving that sum as a deposit. Upon feeling in every pocket, and every crevice ofhis garments, he made the sad dis- covery tiiat he had left his purse at the hotel, where he had just parted from his lady ; but this was merely an ERNNESTINE DE LACY! OR,' THE ROBBER'S FOUNDLING. BY THE AUTHOR OF " THE DEATH GRASP," BTC. y( Continued from our last.) : Beauteous Blanche, thou hast inspired in my bosom had genre, his molherlurned the key Til the lock, to pre- J accident which could soon be rectified, for he would vent further intrusion, and throwing herself upon the sofa, she gave free indulgence to the painful thoughts by which " her mind was now occupied. The events ofthe last few hours, seemed so totally im- probable that she could scarcely, at times, convince her- self that they had really taken place, or weTe Only the offspring of her imagination ; but quickly the conviction became powerfully stamped upon her mind, and then was she distracted with the tormenting, the agonizing thoughts it gave rise to. Even now, after all the dread- ful crimes he had perpetrated, she felt that the affec- tion with which Adolphe had inspired her in her youth- ful days, was unabated ;— that love which had enabled her to go through so many hardships and horrors, for his sake, still glowed with the same fierce flame that it had ever done, in her heart; but her soul revolted from the bare idea of being once more his companion. The dread phantoms ofhis murdered victims; the pale shade of her father, seemed to rise up against such a reso- lution, and to threaten her with the vengeance of heaven, if she again became the partner of the mur- derer ; the fratricide! Besides was it at all probable that Adolphe, whoso life was forfeited to the laws of justice, would again wish to live wilh her, when, by doing so, he must reveal his real character, and be the means of bringing himself to tbe scaffold ?— But; how could she act P— what would Adolphe do* cr what proposals would he make ?— would he resign her, and forbear to remain near that spot where he must endanger the safety of theni both f— Alas 1 she feared that he would be obstinate and determined; and his manner convinced her that he had now become inured to crime, and callous to those better feelings that had at times predominated in his bosom. Oh, that he had never jbeen able to discover her retreat, or that he could now ie persuaded to enter some religious house, wheie by jpenance and repentance, he might make atbnement for his crimes. She dreaded, yet impatiently aWaited for the arrival of the following day. If it was rtjoney he sought, willingly would she resign to him the greater portion of her wealth, if he would not interrupt Her, but retire to some distant part of the country where she might never behold him again ; but she greatly feared that he had some more powerful object in view, and a renewal of all her former misery appeared inevitable. The whole of that day, Madame Laurette passed alone in her apartment, and endeavoured to prepare her mind for the interview with her husband the next day ; anxious to be able to meet him with that composure and firmness which was necessary, in order that she might carry out the point she had In view. She succeeded much better than she had anticipated, and when she re- tired to her couch, her mind was more calm and settled than it had even been for some time previous. CHAPTER X. THE PARLOR IN " THE TRAVELLER'S REST."— tllE DEAD ALtVE. A TALE OF CRI » tE. THE inquisitive and loquacious Annette had listened with the most breathless attention to the discourse we have been describing in the previous chapter, and when she heard her young master approaching the door, she vanished down stairs with silent steps and with all pos* sible expedition. " Good gracious !" she soliloquized, when she was alone; " here's a pretty tale; quite a romance, X de- clare ; 1 never heard anything like it in all my life First my mistress turns out to be not Madame Le Sange, but a Madams de Floriville, then the shabby, surly, mysterious stranger proves to be no stranger at all to her, but the dead come to life again, or something very much like it, and her husband 1 Dear me, 1 never could have believed | bat my mistress could have been a woman of such bad taste, as to marry such a man as that. However, she does not seem to feel very proud of the match, or sbe would not have said what she did. and be so determined not to live with him again. Besides, this man, from all I could hear, must have been guilty of some very heinous crimes, and dear me 1 the very thought of it puts me all in a quandary .— I must go, as soon alt I can find art opportunity to slip out, and inform Gregory all hbout the matter. Gregory is very in- quisitive, and perhaps this may be a feather in my cap, and irtdnCe him to make some return of the passion with which he ha^ inspired me ; for do all t can, 1 can scarcely win a smile from him. Well, I have been a vety ill- dispatch a message, forthwith, to his wife, who would instantly send the money, whilst he waited where he was until it arrived. This Was all apparently fair, and the silversmith never entertained the slightest suspicion of any thing wrong. The stranger, looking to the Mde Where the arm waS deficient, begged as a favour, thai Mr. West would lake paper and pen, and write to the stranger's dictation, for 2001., to his wife. The man of silver accrardingly wrote, as he was directed, in the fol- lowing terms :— " MY DEAR WIFE,— Do not be surprised at this ex- traordinary note ; but a strange accident has occurred, which renders it necessary that I should immediately deposit two hundred pounds, to be afterwards paid back, land I beg that you will give that amount to the bearer who Waits. " Yours, ever, " J. WEST." The servant ofthe stranger instantly started wilh the note, and the two Wests remained in pleasant conversa- tion, laughing at the oddities of those persons who are so absent as to leave their purges home. Time fled t — a ( joup'lfe of hours passed, and no servant appeared with an answer. The quarter- master, in the highest in- dignation, caused the silver articles to bfe brought back from the cdach, and careflilly examined to see that all Was right,— cursed his servant over and over;— phd swore that this was not the first lime that the scound rel had played him a similar trick. The goods were faith- fully and honestly restored to the silversmith, and the stranger took bis departure, with the assurance that he would leturn the next morning. NoW for the denouement of this wonderful plot. The fellow who acted as principal in this affair, knew that West, the silversmith, lived in the country, and that his wife kept all the money. All he Wanted^ therefore, was the order for the 200<., which, we have seen, was id West's own band- Writing was Written upon an ap- parently singular occasion, and was in effect full paid as if it was a bona fide order When presented, by the pretended- servant, who was no more than an accom- plice. The letter J. added to West served for James as Well as Jacob,— but by adopting the latter, the swindler disarmed suspicion.— Town. TO CORRESPONDENTS. NOTICE!— ATo bookseller has any right to make any charge for No. i e/,% "> 0rk called " TrtF, MANIIAC FATHER; OR, THE VICTIM OF SEDUCTION," it is Presented Gratis to every purchaser of " THE PENNY SUNDAY TIMES, AND PEOPLE'S POLICE GAZETTE.'' SEVERAL CORRESPONDENTS.— WE cannot say how many numbers the popular romance of " THE HEBREW MAIOF. N ; OR, THE LOST DIAMONO," mill be com- pleted in ; bat we ran assure the numerous readers ofthe work, that the interest mil be ably sustained to the last, and when finished, it will form one of the most interest- ing works of fiction that has lately issued from the press. J, B.— The new and deeply interesting tale now publish- ing at the office of this Journal, called " EMILY FITZ- ORMOND; OR, THE DESERTED ONE," is by iheattthdr of " ELA, + « E OUTCAST," and bids fair even lo sur- pass that celebrated romance in popularity. We will give insertion to the " STORY op A PRIVATE SOLDIER," and we are much obliged to the author. The flattery of " V MII. Y HUM!" is quite overwhelming. II. W.— Try again ; the Charade sent, will not exactly suit. The communications by A. M., are respectfully declined. The lines mentioned by P. H. WHEELWRIGHT are not forgotten. Under consideration: E. S. M,, W. Svow, W. I,., and W. T. J. tJ. R.— Will you please to put your address to your next packet, as the Publisher wishes to communicate, and hasjost the same. Several other letters will be answered in our next. *** All communications to be addressed ( post paid) to the Editor of THE PENNY SUNOAY TIMES, 231, High- street, Shoreditch. " Cdyered ( i. er fiCe With her hands. " My father I cried Henri, in a state of the most in- - depcribable astonishment and agitation ;—" what mean- lliot, my dearest mother f— Oh, surely some power- • fnl grief hath { turned thy brain ;— lias not my unfortunate -£ ather been dead many years?— Oh, yc. 9; although 1 was very young at that time, well do I remember that tiSMfti light when he met his death, and the awful cir- cumstances attending it. Even now X cOjUd almbsl pic - ture to my imagination, as distinctly as if it had hap- pened but yesterday, tbe foa'rfnl scone that took place, when my father WHs about to plunge in the roaring cataract: wtien——" " Oh Cease 1 cease I my boy!" gasped forth his Wiethe*? ° thou wilt drive me to madness, by recalling tjipae hpr/ oiri jo pAWerfuIW tp tety themorjt. I tell thee, that thy unhappy, guilty father dj( j, not per^ sli ; th'pt lie still lives, and that the man tbou didst behold here bit a f& W tfilhfitSs'since Is he who gave thee being 1" " Goqd God ! is it possible ?" cried Henri, clasping fiU Mihdi! t^" ih.^ es ; il mn » t, it tnlistbe thte ; noblher « lWWf hitve " filled tojr Bbsofii With such emotion; — but, why did be not embrace bis son ? — why did he so strictly hasten away ?— He will, h' 6Wevct, be here again tp- iporrow, and " " Henri, interrupted Madame Laurette, solemnly, f.' again I warn thee toendeavour to forget thy father, • unless it is to pray for forgiveness for the many crimes . of which he bath been guilty." " And will he not then be with us again ?" said Jlenrt. Here Annette prepared to leave the Hall, singing in melancholy strains, as she arranged her toilette, the fol- lowing appropriate song;— SfiV that benuty, wit, and grace, Ate vtry tempting treasures; A « parkflnir eye, a rosy face. Are sure of wedlock's pleasures. But, though lam both young and fair, No suitors follow me j • No rich souths far my tiknd d^ cTAre,-- Wli « t can tha reason be ? Upon my wor t I cannot ® u « « s,— Whit can the reason be ? I paint p'erfume.— and curl e y hair, And sure I look quite charming; TiH true, poor awato's oft at me leer, But poverty's alarmirip. There's nor a lass but has a beau, Around for mites I see; While I'm neglected doomed to go,— What can tha reason be ? Upon my word, & c. There's Emmeline, the pert brunette, Ha. beaux, for lier imploring j Ani Maiy Anne, the young coquette, Has twenty!— mad— adoring! And wldoW Thompson's got a swain, Though she's iust fifty- three ; While here, neglected I remain,— What Can the reason be ? \ Upon my word, & c,, By the time that Annette had come to the conclusion of this ballad, she had completed her toilette, and having a « certalned thai she tvas not l; kHy lb be wanted by her mistress for siome time, she left the house, and set for- ward to visit her dear Gregory, anxious to impart to him the important secret with which she had become ac- quaints. ( To be continued.) NEW WORK OF STARTLING INTEREST. Publishing in Penny Weekly Numbers and Fourpenny Monthly Parts, EIILY FITZOftMOO; OB, THE DESERTED ONE. ' BY THi AUTHOR OF " EI, A, THE OUTCAST," ETC. With No. 1 is Presented TWO ELEGANT EN- GRAVINGS; stitched in a neat Wrapper. THE PENNY fSimSag AND PEOPLE'S POLICE GAZETTE. iritim MhiV ; ' yjii ' JO ... I.,..... nil n. j nTi WEST BY WEST. X know nothing in the ahtials 6f impudence which can even approach the following exhibition of that sub- lime qualification :— VJf^ qiJ isa name that has flourished forages in the cor- poration of Dublin, and in the silversmith Irade. The shop of the family is still extant in the gooi) city, 1 knew tbe unhappy incumbent who was ( be subject of the following morceau. An elderly, gentlemanly per- son, With all the exterior of a military man, drove up in a hackney- coach to Mr. West's shop. He entered, and speedily was in the presence of Mr. West. The stranger wore a braided Surtbut, the right arm of which was un- occupied, and Was suspended in a sling, as though the corresponding limb had been lost in the Held of battle. " Mr. West," said the visitor, " my business is briefly this— X am Ihe quarter- master of a regiment that is j list earning to replace the tloops in George- street barracks I fihd that the plate of tha regiment is packed up, and IN consequence of the unprecedented and extraor- dinary success which has attended the two original ro- mances of " THP. HKBRF. W MAIDEN; OR, THE LOST DIAMOND," and " KATHLEEN; OR, THE SECRET MAR- RIAGE," the fir^ t numbers of which were given away with this journal, the proprietor, as a mark of gratitude to bis innumerable subscribers, has been induced, with the present number, to give to every purchaser of the paper, No. 1 OF AN ENTIRE NEW ROMANCE, OF THRILL- ING INTEREST, entitled " THE MANIAC FATHER; OR, THE VICTIM OF SEDUCTION," splendidly embellished, and in an elegant wrapper. This, of course, could only be done at an enormous expense; but that has ever been a secondary consideration with tbe proprietor of " THE PENNY SUNDAY TIMES AND PEOPLE'S POLICE GA- ZETTE," knowing as he does, that those who cater spi- ritedly for the amusement of the public will always meet with a commensurate reward; and trusting that the supporters of this periodical will find the new tale as well worthy of tbe most extensive encouragement as its predecessors. If deep pathos; powerful and novel situations; language that must find its way imme- diately to the heart; variety of incidents, and an excel- lent moral, have any claims upon the favour of a dis- cerning public, why, then the proprietor can without egotism predict that " THE MANIAC FATHER," will achieve a great triumph in the field of fiction. In addition to tbe above, our readers will perceive in the present number, the commencement of another new romance of the days of good Queen Bess, entitled— " THE ROYAL FAVOURITE," which will be continued every week until completed. It is founded upon one of the most interesting and mem' Table epochs; and writ- ten expressly for this paper by a gentleman who has acquired great eminence in the literary world. This new feature, we trust, will atford our patrons universal satisfaction, adding as it must to the value of this, THE ACKNOWLEDGED LEADING PERIODICAL OF THE DAY ! Any further comment we consider is unnecessary, and would be only a useless occupation of the reader's time. a passion as powertul as it is sincere, and uow for the first time do I ventuie to unfold to tbee the sentiments of my heart, and to solicit a return of thy love. Nay, thou need'st not Irowtt, fair lady; opposition will not afail thee. I was prepared to meet thy scorn, but doubt not that in time 1 shall overcome thine icy coldness.' " Disgust, fear, and indignation, tor awhile choked my utterance, and tearing myself forcibly from his hold, 1 retreated to some distance, fixing upon bim a look - of mingled resentment; and offended virtue, which for a moment of two seemed to awe him, and compel hiin to forbearance. " ' My lord,' I at length exclaimed, in tones of the deepest reproach, ' this language from thee'.— Suffer me to pass, and to retire to my own apartments.' " ' Thou shalt not pass, maiden,' cried the earl,' thoU shalt not pass until thy lips have sealed my wishes. Thou mbyest frown, and heap on me reproaches, but they will but add to the passion which hath taken possession of my heart, and urge nie oil to that, which by different behaviour. t. ljou might, est avert. For months these eyes, beauteous, too- lovely Blanche, have viewed thee wilh attmattoh, and 1 panted for an opportunity to be enabled to give utterance to my sentiments, and solicit from thee a return ; that momeut bath arrived, and now do I offer thee my baud, my heart, my fortune. Pause ere thou dost foolishly reject them, and remember that in spite of everything, I am determined, even at the hazard of my life, tny soul, that thou shalt be mine !' " He forcibly seized my hand as be spoke, in spite of my efforts to the contrary, and bending one knee to the earth, smothered it with his loathsome kisses. How did my bosom swell with rage, shame, and offended modesty ; and my appiehensiotis increased, when 1 noticed the ve- hement manner of the earl, and heard how determined he was to put his threats into execution. Alas ! what would become of me, without a soul near to whom I might look up for protection ? " ' My lord,' 1 ejaculated, after a painful conflict with my emotions, " release me, I command thee, or my cries shall alarm tbe inmates of the castle, aud expose thee to thy vassals. Shame, shame on thee ; thine age should have taught thee better; but more tliau all, thy promise to my poor dying father;— is this the protection thou didst swear to him thou wouldst afford me?' " ' De I not offer tbee the best of protection, damsel ?' returned the eat 1, releasing tny hand, folding his arms, and gazing upon nie with looks thatcansed the deep crim- son blushes of shame to mantle in my Cheeks;—' tbe pro- tection of a husband of rank and power, and who is prepared to love tbee with all the stiength ofthe most ardent passiofi? But since thou art pleased to remind the of the promises I made thy father, thou wilt likewise remember that by his will, 1 am thy ^ ole guardian ; that thou art Wholly aiid solely in qiy poWei', aud that thou must wed alotfe he whom I think proper, or forfeit thy foituue to , me, and become the inmate of a Convent for the rest of thy days. Think of this, girl, and choose between so terrible a fatt'j and an union with rank aud power.' " ' Oh, heaven !' I cried, clasping my hands together, ' could my poor father have been so cruel, so unjust, in bis last moments to his only child, her who attended to his comfort for so many weary years, and upon whom he ever lavished the most unbounded fondness ?— I cannot— will not believe it 1' " ' Blanche,' exclaimed the earl, passionately, and scowling tearfully, ' beware what thou sayest, lest thou shoulilst turn my love to anger; Dost thou dispute the authenticity of thy father's will ?— Have 1 not tbe docu- ment iu my possession sealed and ratified by him on his deathbed?' ... " ' Some unfair means must have been adopted to ex- tort that aocument,' I returned, with firmness; ' 1 am certain that my pdor father would never voluntarily have bequeathed ine to ihisery and anguish.' " Theeatl bit his lips, and paced backwards and for- wards for a lew moments without giving utterance to a syllable; it was, however, quite evident that the bold- ness of my manner, and the answers I had given to him, Imd caused a violent commotion in his breast, and touched his guilty conscience. " ' Blanche,' at length he observed, having by a power- ful effort somewhat recovered his composure, ' the as- sertions thou hast made use of will only serve to exas- perate me, aud effect thee no service; while at the same time they are false and unjust. But it matters not; thou art hi my power, and in spite of thine obstinacy, I will dispose of thee as 1 think proper.' "'. Never, by heaven!' I exclaimed, with increased energy, ' poverty— a nunnery— any fate would be prefer- able to an union with thee ! As the father of Lord Alfred I did respect thee, and was prepared to love thee as a patent, but noW—' "' Hold, girl!' interrupted the Earl, fiercely j ' dare not again to mention to nie the name of that disobedient beardless boy; I swear that lie shall never be thine, aud sootier than be should, I would myself, if he dies not on the field of battle, strike my dagger to his heart.' " ' Oh, my lord,' I returned, with a shudder of horror, ' make not use of such dreadful threats. Is this the lan- guage a father should use in respect lo bis son ? Shame, shaine!— But thou wilt not persist in this conduct;' 1 continued, in softened accents; ' thou canst not mean what thou sayest; let me pass, I beg of thee, aud 1 will think no more of this, which 1 believe ouly to be caused by tbe excitement of—' " ' Fair, but scornful beauty,' cried the earl, with a determined air, and seizing my arm with a vehemence that hurt me,— 1 1 again swear that thou slialt not quit this spot until 1 have exacted from thee a promise to —' " ' Oh, help ! help}' I screamed, struggling as much as possible to release myself;—' in the name of heaven, I appeal to the spirit of thy sainted wife, to protect me.' " At the mention of his wife, the earl released me in a moment, and starting back with a shudder of horror, he covered his face with bis bauds, anil groaned aloud. Ill an instant I seized upon the opportunity, aud hurrying from the spot with the speed of lightning, 1 hastened into the castle, aud retiring to my own apartment,! secured the door, and threw myself on my couch, completely overpowered by the violence of my woutided feelings. " I need uot, I am certain, la. dy, attempt to pourtray to thee the emotions that, now agitated my busoifi ana distracted my braiu ; 1 tound myself placed in a situation ot the most fearful description, in the power ofa villain, and with no one near at hand, who would take any in- terest in my fate, or attempt to rescue me from the danger hy which 1 was threatened. My thoughts immediately wandered to Lord Alfred, and my agony increased ten- fold when 1 reflected upon tbe distance which divided us from each other, and tbe agony he would undergo did be but know the dangerous aud painful situation in which fuse, the task to wait on thee might be transferred to' somebody else, who might not be inclined to pity thee,, but on the Contrary, be ready to further the eail's desires. And again, my lady, if 1 may make so bold as to offer thee any advice, I would impress upon tbee the impru- dence there would be in too rashly opposing the earl's1 orders, which might only provoke him to proceed to itre-' mediate violence • whereas, if thou dost act to the con- trary, thou mayestawe him into forbearance, obtain time, and'ultimately something may interpose to rescue thee from the danger by which tbou art at present threatened, and to frustrate the wicked intentions of the earl altoge- ther.' " ' My good, my faithful Geraldine,' I ejaculated, while tears filled my eyes, ' I approve of thy counsel, and will adopt it. And now hope seems to whisper to me that something will happen to save me from tbe earl's villany. I will, at anv rate, endeavour to meet my persecutor with fortitude, aiid surely that Almighty, whom I have never willingly or knowingly offended, will not suffer the base designs and machinations of tbe guilty to triumph.— Now, Geraldine, thou hadst best ieare me, lest the length of thy stay should excite suspicion ; I know thou wilt visit me as frequently as thou canst.' " ' Aye, that I will, my lady,' answered the faithful girl; ' 1 shall shortly return with tby morning's repast, bv which time the earl probably may have quitted thr castle, and we may have an opportunity of conferring longer togetfier. For the present, my lady, adieu, and the blessed. Virgin protect thee !— Alas ! alas*, that I should ever c » me to this I' " Thus sighing and wringing ller hands, Geraldine left me, and in obedience to the orders she had received, secured the door after her. Not more than half an hour bad elapsed, when I heard footsteps on tbe stairs, and immediately afterwards the key tuined in tbe lock ;— I started up, thinking it was Geraldine returned ; but when the door flew open, my disappointment and alarm may be imagined when the earl presented himself. ( To be Continued.) ORIGINAL SCOTTISH ANECDOTES. ( Written expressly for the " Penny Sunday Times,") Willie Brown had wrought himself into the Relief tjiat he was a good singer; but to make others think with hiin was another matter. Willie was on a visit to a relation of his, in the vicinity of Glasgow, who was precentor in a parish church there. He had frequently impoitun, ed his relative for liberty to try his vocal powers as a leader in his stead, in tbe public worship of tbc^ church. Willie no doubt recollected that perseverance is victory ; lie at last prevailed : we will not pretend to say that there Was much discretion in gi anting his request; it was done with a view of curing bim of his singing mania. Willie mounted to the precentor's desk, armed cap- upie, with pitch- fork, confidence, aud the gown usually worn by the person officiating there, and his mighty mind towering far beyond all sublunary things. After Willie's return to his own locality, he was boasting of what be had done, when one of his acquaintances took occasion to ask him how the congregation were pleased with bis music. " Pleased," replied Willie, " they wur a' mad weel pleased, for the hale jot i', the kirk was laugliin' like tae~ burst. My certies, but they wur plased in earnest." DONALD FRAZF. R'S GUN.— The Sutherland Fencibles were once at " ball practice;" poor Donald Frazer had never previous to this day discharged a inuskct: he was in a dreadful state of tremor, and to keep the evii hour afar off, be refrained to pull ihe trigger, until be had suc- cessively put in the sixth cartridge; then, summoning bis courage to one grand effort, he fired. Donald's musket went whirling In the air, in one direction— his bonnet in another— and himself, a third. His officer came with all due haste to learn the cause of the confusion, which the event had occasioned, when he saw him sprawling on tbe ground, his face and hands exhibiting sundry contusions, and himself in a dreadful state of mental terror; he was barely able to get to his kuees, supplicating his com- mander; in piteous accents. " Fich," s'ays Donald, " if I inust tire the tither five fires that's in her pelly, she'll pu kill't teat; for cot's sake, sir, will ye let me tuke them oot wi' the sma' iron poker," ( the ramrod.) The officer could not refrain from a suppressed smile. Donald was ordered to his quarters, and often after declared, " he was nefer so glad to have Iiis life saved,— for if he lit fire her toons, he must pe kill't as teal's a berrin'." From this time forth, Donald exhibited as great an aversion to fire- arms as crows are said to do. THE PROVOST'S WIFE'S TONGUE.— In a certain country burgh, a few miles south from Glasgow, it was, and is the custom, upon the election of tbe civic authorities, that that eveut be celebrated by a public dinner. Oil one of these festive occasions, when the glass and toast was circling round, as an especial mark of respect to tbe pro- vost, or chief magistrate, " His Lady and Fireside," was proposed, and a bumper craved thereto. This, as a mat- ter of course, called tbe provost up to reply, which be did, by saying—" How much he was obliged by tbe honour done liiui, and that the ' gude wife' would a been there liersell tae thank them, but she was sair fushed wi* ru- maticks in her legs, an couldna gang; but if they would believe him, he could positively assure tbem she had nae rumaticks in her tongue." A LARGE BEEFSTEAK.— A certain ex- M. P. who, Hi at the time of his canvass, considered it proper to invite a number of the electors to a dinner. A very limited num- ber availed themselves of his proffered bounty. Shortly after, he was making a personal call on some of the ten- potinders, accompanied by one of his legal advisers; various arguments were adduced to gain the elector's vote, with but little appearance of success, when the man of law told the elector to recollect that Mr. had a large stake in the county, which would make him zealous to promote the interests of it. To which the old man ad- dressed, promptly replied, referring to tbe dinner failure, " 1 hae guid mind he had mair steaks iti this toun, ou day short syne, than he could get fok tae eat." OCCASIONAL THOUGHTS. BY C. W, DUCK B IT. A true friend is, alas ! a scarce person in this trouble- some world : would not the name alone puzzle the most learned? * * * Prosperity may shine hriaht before you— money you may bave plenty— and a handsome mansion under your controul. Then, my readers, look around you, wlieu in that happy slate, and behold friends are pressing on every side ; but, alas ! are they friends i Lei me au- swer, time will show. * * » * We will pass over that. * » * Fortune is reversed; the dark cloud of adversity frowns loweriiigly upon your devoted head, and all those bright aud happy hopes have faded ; you turn yourself about, and, to your sorrow, you behold yourself deserted by those people that once you hesitated not to call your best friends. * * * Alone, desponding, and unhappy, you mourn over your fate; yet, still one faiihfnl friend 1 was placed, 4nd the villany of bis father. Our worst remains i through weal or woe, lie's still the same, the conjectures were confirmed, and it was very certain that sharer of your fortune, and the partner of your toils. The ennnirinp reader asks. '' » tiH iwli, » iw tbat ?' t \ lau\ n the earl would run any risk, and would not hesitate to adopt the most desperate means, sooner limn his wishes should be thwarted.— Alas ! what a dreadful prospect was now before me; what power had I to avert the evil ? Even were I to make my escape from the castle, whither could I flee ? to wtiotn go for protection ?— No oue ! " The whole of that uight I passed in the most indes- cribable state of agony; at times giving utterance to the most violent expressions Of despair, and then on my kuees imploring the protection of heaven, and calling upon the spirit of my father to save me from the cruel fate with which the earl threatened nie. The following morning I became somewhat more composed, and was preparing to leave my chamber, when GeraldiBe, my Waiting- maid, entered the room, and with A most melancholy expression of countenance, informed me that it was the earl's command that I should be kept confined to my own suite of rooms, aud not allowed to leave them until he gave orders to that effect. " ' Blessed Virgin !' I exclaimed, with fear and indig- nation ; ' am 1 then a prisoner ?' " ' Alas! it is even so, lny lady,' said Geraldine,' but I pray thee attempt to bear with it patiently, and trust to the protection of heaven. Deeply, most deeply do 1 sympathise with thy sufferings, and well do I read the motives of the earl; but I trust bis evil designs will be rendered abortive. Oh, my lady, think nie not bold iu my observations ; but lean" never believe that thy pool father, my late honoured master, could have known the real character of the earl, or never would he have ho- noured him with bis friendship, or entrusted thee to his protection.' " i sighed mournfully, and by my looks showed Geral- dine how wholly I acquiesced in her conjectures. " ' The earl has ordered me to lock tbee in, my lady,' continued Geraldine,' and deeply as it pains me so to do, ( have uo other alternative but to obey; if 1 were to re- enquiring asks, " and who is that?" May jou an- swer iu the words of a poetic writer, " My faithful dog, ' twas you." Death is a solemn thought; it spares none— it makes no distinction between the monarch anil the poor until — and some day or night ( for we know not when the time is,) it will summon us to appear at the throne of that great Judge, that shall decree as to our future bliss,\ oi our eternal punishment! Yet, there is not one being on earth that does uot entertain one faint hope ot toigiveness ;— and, lastly, let my leaders recollect, according to holy writ, that the " wages of stu is death!" Humility Oilght to be practised by all. It men were to embrace iliat mole than they do, they would succeed in their projects more successfully thart they do at piesent. As we all expect mercy from on high, so should we bestow it on our tellow- creatures, that we might utter with fervour,— " That mercy I toothers show, That tnercy show to ine." Malice is a crime so detestable, that those who harbour her will never be happy till they rid themselves of so base a companion. How awful— how solemn— and how sublime is tbe con- templating on eternity -. it is almost too serious for mor- tals to dwell on,— for the more we try to solve its myste- ries, the deeper we get into the obscurity attendant upon such an immortal thought. Treachery is a cruel crime : the man that betrays his friend into wicked bauds, is not fit for the society of human beings. Gratitude is a sweet thought and a sacred precept : it ought to be cherished, adopted, and regarded as a celes- tial word, embracing all the good principles incident to virtuous life. Mile- end, April, 1841. AND PEOPLE'S THE ROYAL FAVOUIUTk. AN ORIGINAL ROMANCE. ( Written expressly for " The Penny Sunday Times.") MS CHAPTER I. ON the night of the 17th of Nov., 1558, the whole household of the Royal Palace at Greenwich were hushed in the most anxious silence, occasionally dis- turbed by a whispered question addressed to a page, or other officer, who came from the ' coulicil- room adjoin- ing the Queen's chamber, for there were assembled the principal of the Catholic nobility and clergy of the kingdom— Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, Cardinal Pole, Bishop Bonner, Lords Fevershain, Talbot,' and Warwick, and several others of less important rank. '• Their power was on Ihe point of being overturned, their estates confiscated, and themselves, either e* iled from « heir country, or condemned to perish on the scaffold, . Mary, the Roiiian Catholic— the bigot— lay on the bed • of death, and a strenuous supporter of the Reformed Church ( her sister, Ihe Princess Elizabeth) was about to ascend the throne. " My lords," exclaimed Gardiner, " Her Majesty cannot live many hours longer. Our hopes are all at an end, if we do not obtain the succession of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, to the throne. The Princess Elizabeth is in high favour with the populace, and, if Mary does not arrive before the morning's dawn, ' twere better that she did not come at all, for by that time the Princess will have been proclaimed Queen throughout the cily. Even now, the Earl of Essex, with many others of her trusty liiends, await without the gales, anxious for the last breath to leave the body of our gracious sovereign." By my froth 1 but it shall not be," cried the Lord Talbot. " Thou hast, my lord, a blank signature of her majesty's Fill up that paper, appointing me go- vernor of the Tower till Queen Mary arrivelh, and I pledge my knightly word, lhat the Princess Elizabeth shall be queen ouly by name!" " My lords," said Gardiner, turning wilh an inquir- ing look to the assembled nobles, " what say ye to this proposition of ihe Earl of Shrewsbury ?" ' Tin one of danger," answered the Earl of War- wick," bat ' tis the only path now left open to us. I will accompany the earl on his perilous errand, and be- fore an hour has elapsed, ihe Tower will be in our pos- session. Once there, we shall be enabled to defy all the efforts of the citizens for the deliverance of the Princess; for since the rash attack of Wyatt, it has been amply provided for all emergencies." " Thou hast said well, mv son," said the Bishop of " Winchester. " Not a moment is to be lost. Whilst thou art making the preparations for thy departure, the • deed shall be drawn out, and delivered into thy hands. The blessing of the church be upon thee, and success attend thee I" The two nobles bowed to the assembly, and hastily withdrew lo make ihe necessary preparations, and to assemble their retainers, who, to the number of three hundred, were quartered in the neighbourhood. At this moment a female attendant, weeping bitterly, hastily entered the chamber. " My lords," she exclaimed, " all is now over !— the Qaeen is dead 1 Her last words wcre a request that you would defend our holy religion to ihe utmost, and appoint Mary Stuart us her successor.'* " To ihe perils, of our lives will we do so,'' exclaimed the greater p^ rt of ihe members of the council. " kad. y " said Gardiner, " hasten back to the cham- ber cf the Queen, and bid the ladies of the court, and the attendants, to keep this sad occurrence secret for the next hour at iheir utmost peril." The lady bowed, and instantly withdrew. " Sir Henry Bedingfield," continued the bishop, " you, as lieutenant of this castle, will place an extra guard at every outlet, and see that none go hence, al Ihe peril or your head. This news must reach London from no other source than ours." " May I lose my head if it doth not," murmured Sir Henry, as he left the apartment. The council then broke up, and the nobles retired to prepare themselves for the coming events of Ihe morre. w. When Sir Henry Bedingtltld left the council- cham- ber, he hastened direct to Ihe guard- room, and gave orders for the required number of guards to be placed, with instructions to allow no one but the Earls of War- wick and Shrewsbury to pass the gates. From thenca he proceeded to the garden, tiaversed iu full length, unlocked a small postern gale, and stood on tbe terrace fronting the river. He looked anxiously upon the river, but no object met his gaze, and he stamped his fool with vexation. He walked quickly, but cautiously to the end ofthe terrace, and then gave a whistle: the gentle plash of oars was instantly heard, and a boat, containing about eight men, emerged, from out of the shade of some Irees, whose darkness had effectually concealed them from his observation. " Quick! Quick!" he cried, " or you will bo too late." The men in the boat redoubled their exertions, and the vessel soon reached th'fc spot where Sir Henry stood. He instantly stept into it, and seated himself by the side of a person wrapped in a dark cloak. " Push off, and row for your lives; there is net a moment to be lost;— My lord," he added, turning to the stranger, " the Queen is dead, and the Lords Talbot and Warwick are about to set off for London, to secfire the person of the Princess Elizabeth, and to proclaim Mary Stuart Queen of England." As lie uttered these words, a loud trampling of horses was heard proceeding from the road leading towards the city. " Tliey are on their way even now," answered the earl ( for it was Essex). " IJy St. Paul 1 we had better lend our aid, also, at the oars, or it may be a black morn for ihe Princess yet." On saying Ihis, he in- stantly seized an oar, and vigorously applied himself to the task. His example was immediately followed by Sir Heury Bedingfleld, and the tide being in their favour, the boat swiftly glided up Ihe river. As Ihey passed the western, and last tower of the fortress, the noise of the oars alarmed ihe sentinel, who instantly challenged them. " Foryour lives return no answer," whispered Essex, but redouble yonr exertions, if possible." The sentinel, receiving no answer, tired his arque- bus, which was instantly followed by the report of several others from different parts of ihe ramparts. The shots passed harmlessly over the boat, and before the soldiers could re- load their pieces, it was some dis- tance beyond their range. ft All was now quiet; and Ihe intense darkness that overspread Ihe earlh like a pall, seemed to add to the deadly silence that reigned around them. ^{ A* the boat glided past that part of the share where the road nears the river, the earl exclaimed,— " Rest on your oars for an instant 1" and appeared to be listening for some sounds which he seemed expecting to come from the shore. " We have gained on them," he at last continued, " for I hear the tramp of their horses in the distance behind." " Then we will hold our advantage," exclaimed Sir Henry Bedingfield. " If we gain the Tower in a quar- ter of an hour, three rose- nobles shall be the reward of euch man, besides the favour ofthe Queen hereafter." These words were not lost on the men, and the boat again darted through the water at an increased rate of speed. . " We are nearing the Tower tapidly, exclaimed Essex, " for the lights On the bridge appear plainer every instant. Sir Henry, when we are challenged by the sentry, fire this pretonel; if all is safe, the beacons of the guard will be lighted, and the illumin- ation will show us our way to Traiior's Gate, and to the possession of the Tower." He ceased speaking, and the next moment they were under Ihe shadow of tne fortress. " Who goes there P" shouted a soldier. The report of the petronet was his answer, and the river was immediately illuminated by the glare of twenty beacons, whose light was to be seen for miles around. The boat whirled rapidly under the massive archway ofthe Traiior's Gate, and fhe next moment was floating quietly at tbe foot of the stairs leading to the court- yard of the While Tower. " Well, my lord of Essex," exclaimed Blount, the lord- constable of the Tower, through whose agency they hid obtained admission, " what Is the news ?— Do I owe allegiance to Mary or Elizabeth ?" " Elizabeth is now Queen of England," replied Essex, jumping from the boat; " but Talbot and Warwick, those minions of the bigolted Mary, are now close at hand, with the intention of securing the person of the Princess, and proclaiming the Scottish Queen. Even as we entered the Traitor's Gase, we heard their tri- umphant shouts as they rode rapidly over the bridge, little thinking that we were beforehand with them in the intelligence of Mary's death. But, my 10fd, let's to the walls, and there return a proper answer to these proud nobles." The party then hastened to Ihe ramparts, which they had hardly reached, when the horn at Ihe gate of the western tower sounded a fearful blast, which resounded in hollow echoes through the numy windings of the Tower, waking to consciousness many a wearied aud harassed man- at- arms. From their elevated position they could perceive that the nobles and their party had assembled round the outward gate ofthe Bulwark Tower, and Were await- ing, with Ill- concealed impatience, an answer to their summons. " Sound a parley," cried Blount, to a trumpeter who stood near. " Tbey have not yet perceived us, and are growing fretful with impatienee." The trumpeter obeyed ; and the Earls of Shrewsbury and Wurwick both turned in astonishment lo that part of the rampart from which ihis unlocked for answer to Iheir summons proceeded. " What may be the object of your visit to the Tower, my lords," exclaimed the constable, " at this unseason- able hour? It is against the rules of the garrison to suffer its drawbridge to be raised between Ihe setting and rising of the sun, without an express order from the Queen." " We come from the Royal Palace at Greenwich, my JS| d Constable," replied the liart of Shrewsbury, in a C^ Sfident tone, " with the Queen's commands, lhat you do deliver the fortress into our hands, and then hasten to the royal presence, for which proceeding we have the authority of her Majesty's order in council." " By my faith, then, my noble lord," exclaimed Essex, " I am much afraid that you have had your moonlight ride from Greenwich to no purpose, save that of exercising your lazy poltroons. In plain words, my lords, the order of Mary has no longer any authority here— we own no other Queen than Elizabeth " " Who shntt be Queen no more than by name," added Sir Henry Bedingfield, somewhat sarcastically. " What! art thou there,, lieutenant ?" asked War- wick. This insolence is accounted for at last. But the lime will yet come when thou shalt smart for this." The two nobles then retired some little distance from Ihe moat, and remained for some minutes in deep con- sultation. During this pause, the party on the ramparts were not inactive. " Sir Henry Bedingfield," said Blount, " take thou a boat, leave the Tower by Traitor's Gate, and, on landing at the bridge, awaken the citizens. They are mostly prejudiced in favour of Elizabeth and the re- formed religion, a « they showed formerly in the rebellion of Sir Thomas Wyalt and Brett, and they will readily join you when informed of the death of Mary, and of the object of Talbot and his knaves. If any untoward accident should occur, the alarm bell of the Tower shall be rung, and you can fall upon them in their rear " " It shall be done," said Sir Henry, and instantly left the ramparts. '' They have finished their consultation, and again approach the moat," observed Essex. " If you will not surrender the fortress in the name of the late Queen," exclaimed Talbot, " we summon you in that of Mary Stuart, who, when the morning dawns, shall be proclaimed through tbe streets of the city as Queen of England." " Mary Stuart," triumphantly exclaimed Essex," is well provided for by this time, for she is guest to the Earl of Southampton, at his castle of Carisbroke, in the Isle of Wight Elizabeth's friends, my lords, do not sleep " " We are foiled every way, by heavens 1" muttered the Earl of Warwick, and by a beardless boy, too, whose maiden sword hath not yet been christened with tho blood of man." '* We'll try other means, then," said Talbot, in a sub- dued tone of voice. " Gold may yet win us a way into yon frowning tower.— A thousand crowns,'' he shouted, at the top of his voice, " to him who shall give us ad- mission to the Tower!" Before the sound of his voice had died away, the creaking of massive chains was distinctly heard— the portcullis was raised, and the huge drawbridge was seen slowly descending. " By St. Mary !" exclaimed Blount, " there are traitors in the Tower ! £ S> jfc. yoji."^(,' my lord of Essex, lhat Ihe great gales are b& ig opened lo Ihe enemy ?" The earl turned townrdsTthe causeway in surprise, and then said,-— f " If this i » not prevented, we shall require more aid than Bedingtield will be able to bring us. But, cbme, my lord Constable, let us hasten to the gate. A good sword drawn in a good cause, may yet retrieve all." And they hurriedly left the wails. " Our bribe has succeeded, my Lord Talbot," exclaim- ed Warwick, triumphantly, " ft> r, lopk, Ihe drawbridge descends!" He spurred his gallant horse, joined his men, uttered a few words of encouragement, and led them on to the attack, closely followed by the Earl of Shrewsbury. The badjge that his men wore— the silver bear and ragged staff— glistened in the moonbeams, and the air resounded with the war- cry of " A Warwick! — A Talbot!" In a few moments ( hp drawbridge touched the earth, and was instantly crowded by the earls and their re- tainers, a great number of whom soon gained the cause- way that crossed the remaining part of tbe moat, and communicated with Ihe Byward Tower. They were advancing across this causeway, in the confident hope of gaining peaceable possession of the Tower, when their further progress was arrested by Y| ie appearance ofa number of halbadi'ers, headed by Blount and the Karl of Essex, who presented an impenetrable front of bristling spears. The portcullis at the same instant fell behind ihem, and cut off all retreat, and a loud splash was heard in the moat— it was the body of the traitor who bad raised It. The alarm- bell of the Tower sent forth its deep- toned Volte to summon the citizens to the aid of the partisans of Elizabeth, and several pieces of cannon from the towers that protected the entrance poured forth their deadly contents on the assailants, and swept the causeway With fatal precision. Talbot reined iii his horse wilh such violence that threw him upon his haunches, and then cast a hasty glance around him. Perceiving his retreat to be effec- tually cut off, and seeing no possibility of penetrating the wall of pikes Opposed to him iu front, he gave up the attempt in despair. Calling to the small portion of his retainers who had yet escaped from the ravages of the destructive fire kept upon Ihem from the walls to follow him, he leaped his horse over the slight parapet that guarded the causeway, and, plunging into the moatt reached the opposite shore unharmed by the shower shower of balls that tie* around him. He was met on the banks by the Earl of Warwick, who, not having reached the causeway, had been enabled to retire with the whole of his party in safety. Their scattered and dispirited soldiers having been again collected; and the besieged, seeing the assailants take to flight, hiving Ceased- their fire, the nobles sum- moned Ihe inferior officers of iheir forces to a council. But their consultation was not of long duration. Sud- denly a shout, loud and long, rose upon the air, and a body of citizens, to the number of a thousand, and headed by Sir Henry Bedingfield, were to be perceived within a short distance, hastening to the scene of con- flict, " What treachery is this ?" asked the Earl of Shrews- bury, turning towards the spot from whence the shoal proceeded. " My Lord of Warwick, we are sur- rounded on all sides." " We have no other resource then, my lord," replied Warwick, " than lo heWe ourselves a road thtough them Wilh our good swords; and, in good truth, I see no great difficulty in so doing, for, if mine eyes deceive me not; they are no soldiers, but mere roucb- armed citizens. Once at your castle in 1' otebill fields, and 1 defy them to do their worst." The earl then turned towards his men, and, waving his sword above his head, exclaimed, " He who would ride through yon dense mass, must win himself a way 1" The tioopers waited to hear no more, but swept like a whirlwind upon the citizens. Their numbers were, however, too small lo make any Impretsidn Upott their enemy, who received iheir charge on the points of their pikes, and with a discharge of petronels, calivers, and harquebuses, which stietched at least one- half of the ill- fated party senseless on the earth. The citizens then opened in the centre, and extending their two flanks completely surrounded the remaining part, who now fought with the daring courage of desperate men. But human eourttge Was of no avail against such tfe- mendoiis odds: one by one of the party dwindled away: At last the Earl ef Warwick was struck down by a blow from behind, and instantly pierced with innumer- able wounds. Lord Talbot now seeing his own despe- rate situation, gathered all his energies for a final effort. Standing erect in his stirrups, he grasped his gigantic battle- axe with both his hands, and swinging it from side to side, cut himsulf a road through tbe enemy, sending a guilty soul to its last account at every stroke. Several Si his retainers, seeing the success of their leader, cut their way towards him, and uniting in iheir efforts, succeeded in forcing a passage through tbe citizens, many of whom were nearly paralyzed at the wond'rous feats that Talbot had performed. III the next minute the stones of East Chepe rung with the sharp blows of their horses' hoofs, and the gal- lant little band, closely followed by a number of mounted citizens, fletf along ihe streets, on iheir way to the castle of the Earl of Shrewsbury in Toteliill Fields. Out of the three hundred brave men who had but two hours since left Greenwich, all but five had fallen a sacrifice to the boundless ambition of their leaders. The Cathedral of St. Paul's now appeared in view- in the next instant they were under its walls " To the Sanctuary 1 To ihe Sanctuary 1" shouted one of the earl's men. But there was no time to reach the 6anct « ary, for their pursuers were rapidly gaining on them, having the advantage of fresher horses; and again they sped ou their perilous flight. About ihe middle of Ludgate- hill one of the trooper's horses stumbled and fell : the rest halted to protect their comrade till he remounted, and before they could again resume Iheir flight the citizens were upon them. One of them instantly pierced Lord Talbot's horse through the chest with a spear, and brought him to the ground. The earl sprung from his fallen steed, struck his assailant to the earth with his ponderous hattle- axe, and then mounting the captured horse, galloped from the spot, followed by his troopers, before the pursuers could recover from their astonishment at such a daring deed. By this time the alarm had spread throughout the whole city, and numbers of citizens, who were hasten- ing to the assistance of the Princess's party, joined in the pursuit. As tliey passed St. Dunslan's, two of tbe devoted little band were struck from their horses, and instantly slain by their enraged pursuers. There re- mained now none but the Earl, Geoffroi de Valence, his esquire, and Bertrand Granger, an old retainer of the family, and, in the then position of affairs, it seemed hardly probable that they would be able to reach even Temple Bar in safety.* On approaching the bar, what was their consternation on perceiving that it was closed, and that the two warders with uplifted maces, stood on each side ready lo receive them. The shouts of their pHrsuers were now- redoubled in triumph, and the hearts of the earl's two companions sunkwiihin them at iheir approaching fate, when the earl exclaimed,— " We must leap the bar at the peril of our lives. If we fail we can but meet our fate as brave men ; but we must not surrender without an effort." " Lead on, my noble master," replied his retainers, with a despairing look," we will follow you." The earl reined in his horse for an instant for the purpose of breathing him, and then, darling forward like lightning, cleared the gale at a bound, dashed to the earth one of the warders who had stepped forward to impede his progress. His esquire and Bertrand in- stantly foil owed his example, but on the part of Ber- trand not with tho like success, for, being the last, he had been overtaken by one of the citizens, who wound- * At the time of which we are writing, the old walls of Ihe etty had gradually fallen to d. eay, and the authorities bad not guttered them to be repaired; their place was supplied by posts, chains, and a bar, and, on the western side of the city, divider! the liberties of Westminister and London. Tbey were closed at the tolling of the curfcw- bell and were not opened again till sunrise. It was not till after the Great Fire, that the present gateway was erected. —— ...' ' .. " ed his horse in the haunches, and thus caused him to fall short in his leap, witTi his hind legs over the bar. Bertrand was thrown from his seat, but fortunately on lhat side nearest his lord; he immediately mounted up behind the esquire, and before the cifizens coul^ t dis- mount and obtain the keys to open the gates ( being afraid to take the leap), ihe trio were far away on fWelr road to Totehlll Castle. ( To be continued.) i.. hi Jll^::.. . j THE R OVER'S DOOM. A TALK. The go'den gun had sunk to sleep 1 ix the peaceful Ocean'* breast, ,.. , » * The liardy wild tyrd of the main, had iso> ghM, tf roc^ y lM^ ti Frdm a ' cloudless sky the Reaming s'tfirs, shone on the Spark- ling sea, , That heaved its buoyant bo » Wm in dahclng sprightly< glee. ' Ihe gentle rippling sea breeze swept, along the tranquil main,— The silvt- r p> QOO glanced J^ lUi^ utly with jt< 8 bright gaudy- Mai" , AH on the swelling wave was sjtlll j but from the bustling shore, Loud rang the mirth of itterry tongues, 1n jbcant, jovial roAr. In the smuggler's home, by the silent shore sat Ben* the grim and bold, . Androupd him were his / earless crew, ca » t in Nature' ® manliest roouidi, , / : . > j* i\ » They cracked I heir jokes, and turned their quid, when de$ ith In ' every form, '"[" Met their bold, fearless, desperate hearts, In the wild howling storm. " Ptfsh round the c. ap, my mewy ho< y § , and. drive dull eare swfcy, Our gallant bark spcjj. re^ y rides,.. down in ripping bay ; And ' er£ the rftorrotv s sun lias spread Its bright beams o'er the sVa, She o'er the dark blue rolling waves, will bound forth bold and free. " I've seen her kiss tbe mountain waves, as they rolled in graudeur high, When the frowning crests of the hillowy main, played with the threatening sky; , I've seen her white sails kiss the deep, as she leaped thro1 the angry sea,-— , Yes, then was the time that the Rover bold, loved to pass round the can with fclee.'" So spoke hold Ben, rotind him the mirth la, wilder accents grew, While Ben his trusty watch- cloak, o'er his manly shoulders threw. " Belay there, boys, ease off your crack, lets reach the silent shorej, I guess afore the morrow's dawn we'll hear the stiff winds roar.'* So said, the careless seamen rise, and swagger to the shore j But ere their stern Ben had crossed the threshold of the door, An aged man, bowed down with years, with scanty locks of grey, Knelt down before the Rover bold, and these words did calmly say:— " Young Rover of the stormy main, hear thou my warning tale, This clear, this tranquil moonlight night, hoist not thy swelling sail; Or, if thy stubborn heart denies, remettlbe* ' tis the last, That thy fleet, dashing, fearless bark, drivel fore the howling blast. " I fear thy reckless spirit will, my earnest words despise, But if thou wilt, the morrow's sun, when brightly It does rise, Will to the shadderlng ga « e, disclose thy mangled HfeleSs clay, Unburled on the sandy beach, in the wild rolling bay/ " Rise up, tamed Seer, think'st thou that Ben cares for a dotard's tale ?— He's rode in many a merry sea, in many a threatening gale. What! messmates, do you lag astern ?— jyhat! shipmates do you fret?— Our bark, she has bowled through a heavy sea,-— she will bowl tiiro' a heavier yet 1 u Unmoor, my boys, let the rising breese catch the bosom of our sail > The old dotard's words, my gallant men, give to tfie passing gale; Let us tread ' neath our feet the starting deck, as she climbs in her foaming way; Let US leave the silent, lonely shore, and the tranquil rippling bay." " Rash man, beware } ere the brilliant sun the morrow's bright clouds gild, Thdu shalt be the prey of the prowling wolf, or the hovering raven wildj! i The Rover shrunk back, and hlS manly brow was darkened with a frown, As the despised, neglected seer in anger gilded on. " Unfurl your satis, to the rising gale," the wreckless Rovef cried, As the dreary winds thro' the rocky caves in mournful silence sighed; And the murky clduds tinged with the meon, o'ercast the frown- ing sky, And the stormy petrel, seaward bound, soared sternly far on high. The devoted bark left the rolling bay, and kissed the troubled main, Alas! Its stately tapering spars, shall salute the dawn ne'er again, The bark that has dashed ' side the whitening spray, and roared thro' the angry blast, Shall, e'er the morrow's gilding dawn, o'er the stormy waves be cast. The threatening storm came on apace, the wild wares madly roar, The stately bark thro' tire dashing surge, her foaming path she tore i The lightning 11 allied, the thunder rolled, the billows mocked the sky; And the sea- btrd dipped Its wings In the flood, and yelled Its piercing cry. A towering wave came rolling on, to crush the straining bark. Its crested top, wreathed with foam, came rolling on,— but, hark! , Nearer it came, Ihe boldest now, in horror held his breath; One crash, one gurgling, piercing shriek, and alt was stilt as dealh : All, save the howl of the angry gale, as It whistled madly by,— Or the distant thunder grumbling, thro' the lowering murky • ky i Or perchance th* shriek of some drowning wretch has sank to his watery tomb, As he vainly struggled, and vainly tossed, ' midst the ' whelming billows foam. The morrow's sua In splendour rose upon a cheerless scene, Desolation reigned In stem mood, where comfort one. had been i . The gallant barks, that climbed the main and bowled thro' the aftgry roar, Their shattered fragments, now were cast, upon the landy shore. In a storm- beat cave, by the rolling beach, where wild waves madly dash. Whose echo answered only, to the billows sullen splash. Lay the Rover bold— his eye was dim, his frame was stiff and bold. On the rippled sands he lay enwrapt. In his watch- cloak's ample cold. They gazed ou his deadly pallid cheek, on his hold and maoty form; They gazed on the man that had lived and died In the ocean storm. As they looked, tbe aged Seer passed by,—" Hah, hedasptsed my words; But his stubborn heart shall be torn frem his breast, and ( lung to the wild sea- birds. " I hear the despising laugh that broke, from his lips as he heard my tale, Whim I vainly urged the Rover wild, not to trust the treacherous gate; But he heard not my words, he despised the tale of a kind and H-. l- » » ageu aeer, He said, and with a wild exu It lug laugh, the gale did dtsap- MOUMKX. pear. Edinburgh, March 1841 AN AFTERNOON'S PLEASURE. ( Written expressly for " The Penny Sunday Times,") BY c. w. DtlCKETT. Having a little leisure time " on hand," I resolved to give myself ( as the boys would term it) a" half holiday," but not on an Holy- day; therefore I started off to Lon- don Bridge, it being a delightful summer day, and " shipped" on board the " Gypsey," bound for Green- wich, the fare not being very high ; but I must confess some of the fair was very low, particularly a White- chapel lady (>) and a young huxter. 1 thought I would take a peep into the saloon:— what a delightful prospect— cold/ oW on the table, and foul air all around. On the larboard side sat the complete personification of a daudy. He would not even so much as make room for me. My spirit was exceedingly high, but his was higher ( ire). However, I thought 1 had better take it easy, so I turned my indignant eyes from him, and looked about on all side*. On my right was an old man and woman ; on my left was a young lady, and, as I presumed, her parents. She was at Ihis momeat taking a draught of cider, and I, to speak the trufh, wished to be side her ( cyder), although not to be swal- lowed in that way. In front of me sat a great fat boy, cramming his mouth with bread. " Ah," thought I, " you are not very good or well bred." Such was the company in a room about forty feet long by twenty broad. Clouds of smoke on every side, although no clouds in the air. I soon formed the resolution of quit- ting the place, and then went on deck to get a little air, yet there was a young man close to me that had hair enough on bis head to make nine boes and three tippets. As I was going up the stairCake my foot slipped, and to save myself cangbt bold of an old gen- tleman's coat tails. This certainly had the effec: preventing my falling backwards; but 1 received thorough good trouncing from his lordship as put mc very much out. A woman with a squalling child was in. froot of me, so that 1 could neither advance nor re- ' treat,— how cross. " Plague take the children,' said I.; I would sooner be drilled for three hours, than be bored in this way for one." At last, by a skilful move on my part, 1 slipped away, and in my hasie to escape ran against the funnel, and scorched my York- tan gloves in such a manner as to render thein totally useless, besides singeing my hands. " Never mind," said I to myself,— bit J almost forgot to mention ttfit jii tlie fore cabin was ft little bell ihat we rang when we required refreshment, and in tiie saloon ^ is 4 very pretty belle seated on a camp cjiair, but so modest aijd sjlent was she, lhat 1 could not ( pi) ring anything fr- opi he. r. But, slop, the vessel has arrived. " Tickets, ladies and gentlemen," bawled a man in a bluejacket. 1 jumped ashore, and made for the park. Here was a scene;— I Walked to Ihe foot of the hill ( but 1 did not feel myself at all itt), and ascended half- way, when something attracted my attention to the westward. I looked ( as many people do) one way and walked anoiliet; when, lo ! a couple Cattle racing With greiit speed down the hill, and, intent as 1 was, 1 did not ob- serve ihem. Dash they came right against me ( al- though I deemed it anything but right). No collision on the railway could be greater ; the blow completely upset the trio of us, and down we rolled; ( now, I must confess, 1 was always partial lo hot rolls of a morning, but not cold rolls down Greenwich hill;) as near as I can " calcorlit," I made aboct fifty somer- sets in my descent. When I arrived at the i- ottom, 1 scarcely knew where my intellects where ( for J was like the old woman, " that did net know whether s.'' e had tied them up in her pocket handkerchief or not); but a Utile time soon collected me, although I am no collector myself; all I got for my tumble was a great deal ot laughter, and a very little pity. 1 left this place and wandered about the different rural prospects contained in Greenwich Park, when my eyes rested upon a lady, fashioned afler the " Brobdignags," at tracted my attention. " Well," thought 1, " I coujd never make Up my mind to heave sighs for you, al- though your size is pretty tolerable." " What shall I do nezt f" said I, ruminatingly. After a Utile tete- a- teti with myself, 1 quitted the park, and looked first to the right and tben to the left; " if I go left 1 shall go right; but if I go right I shall go wrong," said I to myself, when a little urchin came running up to me, and pull- ing me violently by the sleeve, exclaimed, " Have a cock- shy, sir ?— capital prizes!" at the same lime show- ing me some sticks ( either one would have killed an ox at the first blow.) " Well," said I, " I'll try my lack." A keen look— a view right along— I took fhy aim— the slick flew, and instead of knocking a pen- knife off a thin pole, it nearly knocked a boy's head off his shoulders. He roared like a bull, and I, to escape a general row ( though not an army general), ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Next I went into a neat public- houie, known as the " Five bells," although a very few belles were there, called for some- thing, and down I sat ; but here, alas ! I was doomed to be uncomfortable, for an old Jew came bouncing in, and undoing the lid of a large box, displayed braces, rhubarb, pencils, and about one hundred etceteras— " Vill you puy any of mine vare ?" " No, uo," said I. " £> 0 now, try dem— do purchase vun of these," exclaimed he, holding an ever- pointed pencil." " I don't want any," returned I; " besides, them things, although they may be good ware, in my opinion, they wont wear at all." " Veil," said my tormentor, " have die," showing me India- rubber belts ; " dis is to put round de waist— do purchase von; you'll find it vare goot." " As to that," said I, " I never use them ; my plan Is to save all I can, and not have things for the waste ( waist)." " Veil, now," vociferated the Jew, " don't be cross. Now, look here,— dis razor, it be all steel— steel— steel !" " All steel, is it?" said I, " then I'm sure I shall not purchase that.— I detest anything in the way of stolen goods." " Stolen goots!— stolen gouts 1— What you mean by dat ?" " What do I mean1." exclaimed 1 " of course, if your goods are all steel, ( on stealing principle^ the articles must be stolen— that's logic, my old fellow." With that he got into a violent passion, and I, perceiving the storm to be increasing, thought I had better make my exit, and escaped, as the saying is, " with a whole skin," from that hole of iniquity. As evening was fast drawing nigh, I contemplated returning, and trudged along the road on foot, although I must confess I would rather have rode down to the steamer. I now found myself on the wharf, and looked all around. " Whal are you looking arier, sir ?" bawled a little man with large whiskers, blue jacket, and light pantaloons, although he himself was rather of the clownish order. " The steamer," exclaimed I. " Lor', bless yer, sir, she's been gone this five minutes; and, wot's wus, there's no more to night." Here was a perdicament. To run down the quay— but not a merry key ( America), and lake a boat, and push off in ehase of the vessel, was but the work of a few minutes. I overtook her, jumped on board, and paid my fare to the waterman. Here again was the same scenes enacted that I had be- fore witnessed in the morning, excepting a man (?) dressed a la Byron, sitting with his legs extended right in front of me, so that I could not advance on either side. " Well," thought I, " manners you have none ; you're just like a bear;" and 1 could not bear Ilia con- duct any longer; so I made a spring over him,— but here I was almost foiled, for, catching my foot on the edge of his knee, I went almost head foremost. 1 gm laughed at, but pocketted the affront. 1 could no: help ruminating on the different people as I walk, along the deck. All 011 a sudden, a widow came up h me, and said, " I axes pardon, sir,— but, isn't your name Spring ?" " No, ma'am," replied I, and on i walked. " Well," said 1, " you are sot very well educated ; something like a garden that is decked o in Weeds " W611, on we steamed, till famed Lond. Bridge appeared in sight: wo Heared it and made fa ( although just then we were going very slow indeed) oil Nicholson's Wharf. 1 landed, and made my way along Thames- street, and turned up a litlle alley, painted white ; and from its being such a delicate tint, I knew it was a thorough- fare ( fair). An odd couple passed me just here; the lady (?) had lost the use of half her side ; but a nice young man was walking with her, so I considered he was her better half. An old man stood at a door on the left, and, positively, he looked one hundred years old— as it was, he looked like a sentry ( century). At a house in front was two drunken soldiers making a great row, and a huxter fellow was abusing them. " Well," thought I, " such languag from a fellow like lhat, is enough to make any man savage; and the state that that soldier is in, I don't see how he can hold his peace ( piece)." But I hastened on. knowiag it was growing late, and another half hour brought me lo my domicile, and found whilst I had been out some one had pulled down one of the rails in front of my house. This really made me rail;— and to add to my sorrow, two panes of glass had been broken, by some mischievous person, on tbe first floor. Although Ihis took away two of my panes, yet it increased my pains treble- fold. I retired to my room vexed wilh iny day's excursion, and vowing never to venture out 00 a voyage again, without a cheerful and experienced friend to accompany me. One or two of my evils I almost forgot to mention, viz.: in going up- stairs 1 stumbled over a bason, and broke it : my landlady soon broke the silence wilh almost declaring . he would brake my bead. At last she said lhat I was a " base un ( bason) in my cups." But, to conclude.— I made all snug, and started off for Bed- fordshire, passed the posts on the road, but just in my right side 1 felt a pain, and on a sudden all over my body I felt a counter- pane ( pain), I enrolled myself in the sheets ( of distin- guished people), and thus finished my AFTKRNOON'S PLKASURK (?). Mile- End, May, 1841. Cottioos PROCLAMATION— In 1547, a proclamation was issued by Henry the Villth, " That women should not meet together to babble and talk, and that all men should keep their wives in their houses." ^ Fragments for tfje ffiurtous. A SHREWD JUSTICE.— In a certain town, down in Massachusetts, that land of sea serpents and good in rals, there dwelt a certain functionary, y'clept a Jus- tice of the Peace. So particular was he in the adminis- tration of justice, that the slightest unintentional or ne- cessary breach of legal decorum was visited with the severest penalties of the law upon the head, or rather, into the pockets of the unwary offender. An honest far- mer who kuew this propensity of, the Justice to enforce all laws, whether obsolete or not, being desirous one sabbath, of getting in some hay he had drying, so that it might not be destroyed by a threatening shower, thought it behoved him, in order to avoid a prosecution for working upon the sabbath, to apply to the squire for his consent to do so. This he easily obtained, and went to his labour without the fear of sheriffs or war- rants, or the law of the fourth commandment before his eyes, or the commandment in his thoughts. No sooner, however, had he left the Justice, than a man was de- spatched to watch the violation of the law. The next day a warrant was applied for by tbe spy, which was granted, and the farmer was arrested aud brought be- fore our conscientious magistrate. The result was, that he was fined twenty dollars and costs, and half the pe- nalty was divided between the magistrate and com- plainant. TOUCH NOT YON RUINS.— A SKETCH BV JOHN ORTON. Touch not yon ruins, Time has aiade Each mossy fragment dear i The columns mouid'rlog In the duat Have stood for age » here, Protesting Nature's weakest form In splendour and In mirth Like pallid giants, while the storm Swept o'er the trembling earth. Touch not yon ruins 1— Where's the hand That would disturb the dead ?— Ttie ashes of a thousand years Lie scattered where ye tread. Take not an atom from its bi> M j— Wake not a single sound; Beneath thy feet a glorious race, Lie wrapt in death profound. Then, touch them not, rash, giddy youth; Go, seek a brighter scene, An- l revel with thy playmates gay, Where all is fresh and green I Gome not In gladness thus to brave And mock Times' awtul throne;— Break not the alienee of the grave-* Move not a single stone. ANECDOTES OF MATHEWS THE COMEDIAN.— A club existed abooj this lime, the name of which 1 have for- gotten, ( paving only been admitted as a visitor,) but of which Mathews and H. Johnston were members. At tarly part of their introduction to the society, a stranger one night demanded admittance ; he was unin- vited, aud H. Johnston left the room for the purpose of kicking the intruder down stairs. A tremendous alter- cation ensued, and presently Harry and the stranger burst open the door, and the latter fairly fought his way into the middle of the room ; the company were justly indignant, and the more so, when the fellow, in a rough • brogue, declared, " We were broths of boys; that he'd never leave us; and we should all live and die toge- ther." The veteran ( with ill- suppressed motion) pe- remptorily desired the gentleman to withdraw. " In- deed I wont," said the Hibernian ; " haven't I come to enjoy myself among you, and surely we'll have a night Tiiere is a point beyond which patience t eases to be a virtue; so thought the president, who left his chair, and seizing the delinquent ny the collar, attempted to eject him ; long did they struggle, loudly did they swear.— /" You have no right here, and out you shall go." " I wont— 1 wont— I've as much right here as any of you ;" and dexterously flinging off his wig and spectacles, Charles Mathews stood forth, their lately elected mem- ber. This assumption was the more extraordinary, as his auditors were all actors or persons connected witli the theatres, and were all alike deceived, except H. Johnston, who, of couise, was a partuer in the plot.— Mathews told a variety of tales of the Kingswood col- liers ( Kingswood is near Bristol,) in one of which he represented an old collier look; ng for some of the im- plements of his trade, exclaiming, " Jan, what's thee mother done wilh the new coal sacks?" " Made nil- low- cases on ' em," replied the son. " Confound her proud heart!" rejoins the collier, " why couldn't she take t ould ( the old) ones. My brethren," said a preacher, descanting on the difficulties of the sinner, " it is an easy task to row a skiff," over Niagara Falls, but a tremendous job to row it back again. " OH, ( JIVE MB CLONI. ARA' 3 GREEN VALLEY." A BAI. LA11.— BY JOHN JUDO LEWIS. Ob, pive me Clonlara'g green valley, lor Ihere The rich budding blossom blooms beauteous and fair; And stea's the soft stream through tiie daisy deek'd dell, By the wild waving rose, anl the blushing blue- bell: There Nature's wild warblers cbaunt the loud matin hymn, Or in sad measured notes evening's last requiem ; And leaves traits, and flow'ra, load with fragrance the gale,— Oh, dear, dear to me is Clonlara's deep vale. In Cionlara's green valley alone I have stood. As the sun burst his bonds with one . wilt sweeping flood Of pure light which bei. rn d bright over mountain and hill, And sparkled like sapphire in streamlet and rill, And woke to soft music the wild woodland throng. Whose notes the glad zephyrs in raptures prolong ; There the high soaring sky- lark untolds bis glad tale,— Oli, dear, dear to me is Cloniara's green vale. In Clonlara's green valley I've mused on the past, Ere the dark web of sorrow around me was cast; Ere Fortune's first smile had decoyed Rie from home. And the dreams of my boyhood like shadows bad iiown : But ' here br- ahi'd bright hope through my foreboding fears, Like a Midsummer's sun over high heaven's tears, And vanish'd the phantoms conjured by my wall,— , Ob, dear, dear to me is Clonlara's green vale. Through Clonlara's green valley I've loam'd, as the light Of heaven's high orbs sparkled lucid and bright; But no orb in that vault more refulgent could shine. Than the love flashing eye which In raptures sought mine : Nor the poet s wild dream, nor the monarch's wide power. Could equal the bliss of that rxtatlc hour ; For there virgin love made my bosom its veil, And dearer to me was Cloulara's green vale. Manchester. NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS.—" Englaud," the Temp ( Paris paper) observes, " is a vast manufactory, a great laboratory, a universal counting- house. France is a rich farm, tending to turn itself into a manufactory.— Germany is an uncultivated field, because they are phi- losophers and not peasants who till it. Southern Italy is a villa in ruins. Northern Italy is an artificial prairie. Belgium is a forge. Holland is a canal. Sweden and Denmark are carpenters' yards. Poland is a sandy heath. Russia is an ice house. Switzerland is a chalet. Greece is a field in a state of nature. Turkey is a field fallow. India is a gold mine. Egypt is a workshop for appientices. Africa is a furnace Algiers is a nursery ground. Asia is a grove. The Antilles are sugar re- iiicriis. South America is a store. North America is a till lull. Spain is a till empty." THE BIRTH. DAY WISH. IN6CRIBRD TO MISS S. A. G. What shall I wish thee?- that the row Upon thy sunny cheek may stay,— Thy mild blue eyes may long retain Ui, dimmed, tl. eir liquid ray ?— This may not be, my gentle maid,— The fairest things are first to lade. That thou mayest tread the mazy round Of pleasuie's path all strewed with flowers. While crowned with s< ng anil dance fly on Too swift the laughing houi s ?— Not so,— not so; aios I we see, V h- ie rosea are, the iliorut must be I 1 bat thou mayest prove sweet friendship's power— JBett solace on life's weary way ; While Hi pc-' s bright vision th. er thy soul. That basks beneath love's sunny ray. May these be tbine— but better tilings, For love and hope have lalry wings. Ti e bright, tbe beautiful i f life, Too so « n will pais away: The lovely premise ot ihe si ring, May In the bud decay. Then let thy gentle heart be given, Wiih sweet. ffeclluim all to hesven. Bristo May, 1841. C mi AS CiTliERA TOLLIT. AN ELECTION MANOJUVRF..— The non- residenl free- man of Berwick upon Tweed, living in London, being put on boar- l two vessels in th e Thames, a few dajt, previous to the election of 1763, in order to be con- veyed lo tierwick by waier t Mr. Taylor, one of Ihe candidates HI opposuiou, cova. ia riled with the naval oo ii n tiller oi this ^ lecu > i car* >, f ir the su m of 400/, to UuJ tils! freemii to Vjiwiy fnU ivnacc ordiu- ly done, anl iucuaieq H. ica, > tr f tyl. ir, a. u. 1 turd Ooldrul secured Uiair sa. us iviiUjut any further exhume. — Nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice." SHAKSPERE. Most ofthe theatres have been doing very well since our last, and too much praise cannot be bestowed on the managers who have come forward humanely, and granted the gratuitous use of their establishments and company, for the benefit of the numerous individuals who have been thrown into such diatiess by the late awful destruction of Aslley's Amphitheatre by fire. The public will doubtless reward those persons for their charity and liberality, by bestowing upon them an in crease of pationage. HATMARKET— There is seme capital material, mixed with a good deal that is very dull and pointless in the new comedy of lielford Castle. Maywood is excellent in the part allotted to him, and the other characters, which, by the by, are not very important ones, are very well sustained. The following is a sketch of the plot:— Mr. Muckle, ( the hero of the piece) though a pBragon of virtue, is not withal a very humourous fellow, and he sustained Ihe first two acts by himself, and, therefore, when other actors were brought forward, Ihe piece wore a brighter aspect. The piece makes out this Mr. Muckle to be a Scotch speculator whs has grown immensely rich, and who has obtained the nick- name of " the Scotch Gold Mine." lie has a son who falls in love wilh the daughter of an outlawed Jacobite, a Lord Bel- ford. Tbe old Scotchman in his good- nature is at last persuaded to give his consent to the marriage of his son with the young lady, and it is on the point of being consummated; everybody is happy, Muckle " jumps for joy," and a datoce is got up on the green, when a letter is received informing them that Lord Belford's outlawry is annulled, and that he will return to his castle immediately, and that if his daughter is not al ready married, she will instantly discard her lover for one of his own choosing, that will accompany him. All now is despair. The old Scotchman determines, how ever, to defeat his Lordship's plans, Lofd BelforH ar. rives with his intended son- in- law. Mr. Muckle pleads ihe cause of his soil, but the Earl is obdurate. The Scotclihian, wilh a true national spirit of perseverance brings the Lord lo terms. He has bought up in his Lordship's absence the whole of his estates, and he pro poses to present them to the young lady on her mar riage, but still the Noblemah refuses io give his con sent. Mufckle next threatens to raze the castle to the ground and obliterate every sign ofthe family giandeur but still Ihe old Lord holds out. What is to be done ' — the difficulty is overcome after all. A well- timed act of generosity saves the parties. His Lordship has lost almost everything, and he is still indebted to the rich Scotchman in a considerable sum of money. The latter tears up Ihe paper which gives him a claim, Lurd Belford fluctuates— pressed on all sides, even Ihe man whom he brought over for the husband of his daughter, ( for he has generously given np all claim to her hand,) he yields his consent, the usual happy scene takes place, and the parties terminate their brief stage existence. ENGLISH OPERA.— We are fearful that this, for the hundredth time, is a failure ; a citcumstance we very much regret, for the company is an effective one, and the pieces hitherto produced, have been of an amusing and popular description. STRAND.— This elegant little theatre continues lo be extremely well attended, and the management is indefatigable In catering for the entertainment of it frequenters. The Devil and Doctor Faustus, is a most amusing piece, and the acting of Mrs. Keeley in the character of Ihe nameless one, is beyond all praise, We will give due notice of Leman Rede's new burietta called The Frolics of the Fairies. SADLER'S WELLS—- Mr. Honner has had no cause we think, to complain of any want of patronage since the commencement of the summer season, and Ills ma nagement has fully deserved it. The pieces produced hive been very successful, particularly The Bridge of Krhl i or, the Mine of the Mountain. The Female Tite Walker is a ve- ry laughable burlesque, and the actio, of Mr. John Herbert in it very rich and humorous. CITY— The entertainments at ihis theatre, have, since our last, been of a very varied and amusing de- scription, but by far Ihe most attractive are the operatic pieces which are exceedingly well supported. Various novelties are, we undttrstand, in preparation. PAVILION.— The performances at this popular esta- blishment are conducted with unabated spirit. We in- tend to notice them minutely in our next. SURREY.— The new grand historical opera, called La Heine dun Jour; or a Queen for the Day, has been completely successful. It has been adapted to ihe English stage by Mr. J. T. Haines, author of Amelie. or, the Love Test, and several other popular pieces. Miss Homer, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Leffler, Mr. W. H Stoker, Mrs. Serle, and many olher excellent vocalists ably support it. In consequence of the great length of the new ro- mance, in ihe present number, and various oilier articles of interest, we are compelled lo defsr notices of the Uneen's, Adelphi, Victoria, and the Albert Saloon, until our next. A BRUSH WITH PIRATES. " HarVl what's that? ' cried I, as a low, booming sound floated on the breeze, faintly beard above tbe roar ofthe waters, aud Ihe creaking of the ship's tin b'ri. " By henvens It's a gun !'" exclaimed Martin, as his more prac- tised ear caught the sound. '' Quick, my lad, down with you,—*' Here he was interrupted by the appearance of the captain antl the first lieutenant, who rushed on deck together from the cabin of the former, where they bad been enjoying a glass of wine; their ears had caught the sound as soon as our own, and they now pro- ceeded to ascertain the cause. 11 Maintop ahoy 1' sung out the c. ptaln between his bands, which he used alter the manner ofa trumpet. " Aye, aye. sir," an. wered the man on the look- out. " Anything in sight } where does the firing come Irom?" here another gun boomed over tbe waves. *' I can't see any thing, sir, the headland hides all." " Pass ttie word f. ir the boatswain there,' cried the captain. " Here, sir" said the man h mselt, who at lliat lustaut came on dei k, touching his hat a* he spoke. " Pipe ail hands to muke sail." " Aye, aye, sir," and his shrill whistle rang through the shin while he bawled out with stentorian lungs, " Alt hands mak. nail." Here, perhaps, It way be necessary to say a few words In expla. nation of wh « t is already Written. The frigate wa. at the time i> e •••• rite of anchored In a small bay on ihe coast ot St. Doming.. helteWng from a gale which al the time was blowing nretti strong. Martin, one of the junior lieutenants, and niyselt w- re ' lie onK officers on deck at the time, the rest having sought refuge below. H'e were walking the deck si e by side, it being our wat, h, whet tve were i iterrup ed In the manner mentioned above. But to pro- ceed, tbe siltp, wilh that alacrity peculiar lo vensels of war, wa- soon bea'ing out ofthe nay under top, gallants and top. sails, while the cannonade, which wa. continued at bhort Intervals, was draw- ing nearer and nea er every Instant. On we dashed, plunging through the sea most nobly, the water hls. ing and boiling arourn II., the l( f- » euppers were buried in the sea as tbe frigate het'le over to the storm. Indeed, lo tbe eye of ail inexperienced perm; it would seem almost incredible how she could carry so muel canvass, beating up Rgatn. t such a gale. On, however, she dashed defying alike the wind and sea. Just at this Instant a Smsli. schooner rigged vessel, with as much sail set as she could bear rcunded the headlai d at the opening of tb. bey, and the next in stant the report of the gun was again h- ard. " Flie a . hot to bring that fel ow too," cried the captain, " ha 1 by the Lord, there is another ship in chase !'' " It's a br'g," said the first beuten. nt, who was standing with a . py- glais to his eye," and carries barters— au American, I . houli think.'" Bai g went ihe heavy bow chaser of the frigate, in obedience • < the order ot the captain, arm the . hot skipped on th. top of the waves right ahead of ihe schooner. ' I he commander ol the vessel did not, unwtver, obey the order; indeed, it would have been a; the risk of being dismasted if he had— but springing ou tbe s en . beets, he extended in his hands the Kti, iliih ensign. " He means he can't broach too in such a gale very well— we will speak him, at all event.," Oil we dashed, straining and tearir g through the sea a. if re ioicing in the gale that threatened every moment to . end yards and sails in . h vers to leeward. Hearing the little schooner every initan which bounded over the wnves like ft » ea bird. . Her coin ; aodc • tood ready with the spewUng trumpet in his hand t » tn+ wtr on hail. Oo her deck we c uid ohtinguish a small knot of blaik sailors ulu- tered round what appeared to be ih • body of one of then comrades; at a little distance fr « m them the shattered remain* ol a pun carriage sfewed the deck which was marked with th . cot- reofihs devastating ball. I was standing o. t the forecast as we dashed ou wards; i iex;> erieiic'e i as i was. I began lo have « ome dread lest we « h< » nl I crush tils little cockle hheil irt » th. yeast of waters. But the frig- te was under too perfect connwanf to rause any danger of a collision, for as we tame roaring up, as 1 tUought were upon them, « ur buwg fell away, and we passed close tinder her stern. The capts^ n sprang on a gun bellowed throughthe tpeaklng trjWpet J— " Schoonrr nhoy !— What brijrlitem?" PIRATES 1'* was the anrweif Dash— plunge— hiss— we swept past, leaving a broad white str^ c upon ihe water to mark for an instant our track. Hurrah!' shouted the captsin, springing on deck, and striking his second In command ( who, by the by, was his own brother,) a s ap on the back. " Hurrah! we are in for a brush, by Jove ! something to do at Isst, you dog ]*' " To ihy mind that fellow will give us somt trouble before he lets us come to close quarters* and it would be a pity to shatter such a beautiful vessel with our shot, but it can't be helped.'* " Them fellows on her deck seem a little confused at tbe sight of us," said the captain. " Tbfiy have only one chance for tt, and, by Jove! they intend to try it.'' There did, indeed, appear te be some confusion on board the brig at the first sight of us, but their course was soon taken. Her crew had been too long in the habit of avoiding such craft not to know that now was the time. If ever, when there exited a terrible necessity to try the virtues of their beautiful vessel, as the captain said they had only one chance left, to escape among the rocks aud shoals with which the sea abounded, where the frigate, being so much larger, would be atrald to venture. The helm was put down, and the graceful brig came round to the wind on the opposite tack from ourselves, bending over to the increased pressure until her fore yard- arm dipped into the wave; she plunged bows under into the sea, and seemed scarcely able to riee again under the mass of water that rushed over her decki. For an instant I thought she was over, but she struggled on, and although her crew might be seen clinging to the weather bulwarks and shrouds, no hand was stretched, and no orde? given, or if given could not be executed, to reduce the canvass which threatened to drive her to the bottom. It was impossible that she could long stand under so much sail, she was literally buried in the sea, and after dragging her yard- arms through the waves for a few minutes, the main top mast snapped, and the top- gallant top- sail tell over the side. A feeling of something 41ke pity crept over me as I watched with intense in- terest the death struggles of the graceful brig. The piratical crew were forgotten, and I ganed on the beautiful craft as a thing ot life, and was using her own faculties in these superhuman strug- gles for self- preservation; and when her main- top went over an Involuntary expression of regret burst from my lips. Martin, who stood by my side, seemed to feel the same as myself, and ex claimed 5— . M By Jove I It's a pity I4' The pirate captain was no laggard, however, when there was work to do He had lost all chance of getting to windward, but another, and more desperate chance remained. In an instant the helm was put up, the yards squared, and the now maimed brig resumed her course before the wind, the fore sheets were brought home, and the fore- top sail yard was manued by active hands to run out studding sail booms. We instantly wore, and both of u « now ran before the wihd, the pirate a Hifcle astern, and ihe frigate gradually closing in tipoii her. •• Here it comes,'' cried Martin, as the sides of the brig suddenly belched forth, lire and smoke sending a whole broadside whistling through our rigging, evidently with fhe hope of wounding a spar, or rending a sail, and thus give themselves a farti. er chance et escape. Every e\ re on defek was cast anxiously aloft to see what damage We had sustained btit except a few severed ropes and shrouds, which Waved idly iti the gale, nothing showed the course of the iron shower which the instant before had swept over our heads. • « Clear away a gun there,'' said the captain, " and fire into her, it would be a pity as you say," said he to the first lieutenant, " to shatter her with a whole broadside." Bang Went the gun, and the heavy shot pitched right into the timbers of the brig, scattering around a cloud of spilntefs. Again the brig vomited forth fire nfld smoR'e, and this time with more deadly effect than before; one shot struck the gun which the nvn were engaged in loading, pitching them head over heels, and crushing one poor fel'ow to death beneath the overturned cannon. A second shot tame s; ap through our bulwarks, and two poor fellows were sadly hit by a couple of splinters ; the captain himself reoeived a slight scratch on the hand. A third ball, ot more conse- quence, though not ao fatal as either of the others, broke the main- top mast, and this would have told hedvily against us had the chase been nrolonged. . " By the Lord ! this game grows serloui,'' cried the captain bindlnt; up his wounded h nd, " get reary the starboard guns, a d take the wounded men beiow, we have only one course hft to pursue now.*' We had, indeed, but one alternative, it was to return the tire of the brig. " Fire!" cried the captain, wh n all w, » s ready, and the com- mand was foiiowed by ihe deafeniuw roar of the whole of the fri- gate's starboard broadside. For an instant we were enveloped l>. smoke, but the g « le qiiickly s\ frept it a'vay and then we saw with what deadiy effect the messengers of death had speu— sevcai of the poor fellows that were s rugg ing to get out the b.< onis dropped one after another from their hold. The cordage, which before was so tight and trim, now flew wildly and loosely to the ga e, the foremast deprived of Its stays and braces, and probably severely wounded, waved unsteady for a few moments before the breeze, then snapped ciose by the deck, and fell forward with a crash, carrying with it yards, sails, and it* who e trnc « ry of cordage 5 and the poor brig, so shortly before so graceful, so perfect, houn ' ing over the w iters ike an antelope, and seeming to bid defiance to the storm, now rolled hea^ iiy in the trough of the Sra, a imr iog upon the water. " Bravely done, my men," said the captain, " but, by Jove 1 the- fellows have not had enough.'' The crew of the brig had evidently made up their minds to se'l their lives as dearly as possible, and Pgaln retut ed our tire . but it was a contused and scatteied diech^ rge which only smashed the cabin windows there's a job for the glazier,' said the captain," but I say, what do you think is to he done ?'. - ** We cun never run alongside of her where she is," said thr other, " our only chance Is to cut her out." " But them fellows are determined to fight to thelast, and 1 don't wish to waste the lives of my brave lads. Damn the fool-," t rie he, passionately, " can't they strike, they know the,- have n t hance; by Jove t have a mind to sink them at once If they don't knock under Immediately.'' " But these scoundrels seldom tiirht well at close quarters w; th true men," replied the other, " I < 1 n't think their resistance wil he so desperate as you imagine; besides, you Know — ' " Well, well, have it your own way,*' said the captain, " get ready the boats.'" Accordingly the boats were launched, their several crews ap pointed to each, arms were looked to, aud w th st# h alacrity were the preparations made, that ere ten minutes bad exjdred, every thing was ready for the attack, the boats hinging on the larboard side of the trlgste. which had > fcortened sail to shelter them fron the fire of the brig, which kept banging away unanswered by th « gun » man side. Now, gentlemen," said the captain to the officers appointed to command, *• you have all received your ins ructions, and recol- lect your chance of success is to attack her all at once." Speedily we descended intp the boats, of which there were four in the launch was the first* lieutenant, with twenty- four picked men ; the barge had half the number I Martin was < ver the cutter, and had six men to which I added myself. The other boat con tained eiwht also, and was to join wltll the launch in boar- ting the brig on the larboard side; while the barge was to second us in at - lacking on the starboard. The instant we appeared from behind the frigate the firing on board the brig ceased, and we dashed through the forming surg which boiled and hissed around us. The crew of ea. h boat strif ing with might and main to be first up to the brig ; we roundeo the bow in beautiful style, and the barge immediately after ap peared round the stern. " On, boys, on," shouted Martin, as the dheert from the other tide gave the signal that tKey were opening the attack, and the boats dashed up to tbe side like lightning. One bright and vivid flash for an instant dazzled us, one deafening peal of cannot ' trowned our eager shouts, and one third of the attsi king party were hurried to their last account. We discharged our small arm* into the portholes, and with one sweep ot the oars were at tb' enemy's aMej madly we pressed on deck despite the shower of blows with which we were assailed. Martin and I were first wh « gained a footing— there we stood alone amidst our enemies. Be grimed with smoke, maddened wi'h fitry, more like demons than aught human, th* cruw ot the brig rushed to the spot where, spent with toil, we stood with our backs to a gun. The foremost of th » s< ang fell by a slash from my cutlass, and another received the contents of my pistol in his h- ad. The rest recoiled— it was bu- tor a moment — on they < ame again, a boarding pike was raised t< my breast, with a sweep of tr. y cut'ass I slashed it as '' e, and wa? thont to pluuure my weapon in the owner s body, when a pistol bullet whizzed from bfliind me, and stretched him on the deck, » » he same time a sweeping volley laid hall- a- dozen men sprawling in death. " Hu rah ! at them, my men, now's our time," shouted the firs' ieutenant. for it was he who had so opportunely come to o • escue. With a tremendo s cheer we all darted to< ward, and wer- met midway by the toe, who had recovered from the momentary confusion int3 which they were thrown. The deck now presented a dreadful scene of slaughter, blood rat in ktreams through the » cuppers, and the dead and dyli g Uj stretched around. We had th" advantage of discipline, but num- bers were vastly in favour of the pirates; both parties fought for ife and rteath— W « , were We vanquished, had no chance ot escape, tor a11 our boots i » ad been flunk by the tire of the brig; and the pirates knew what they had lo expect were they conquered— th- shouts, the yells, the clash of swords, report of fire- arms, all min- gled with the cries and groans of the wounded. The combat was long doubtful, at one time we were nearlv driven » ver the side by a desperate rush of the pirates headed lyiheb captain, who was conspicuous for his great stiength and staturr; md then again our leader spranr forward with his cheering » hou of44 Hurrahl men, strike one blow more for the honour of Oi< i England I" charged the pirates with such fury that they wereforcen up to th » other end, 6ghting desperately al* the way. " Hurrah ! lads," shouted our leader, the victory is ours; one tffort more and we have them." With a loud cheer we rushed again to the attack, w" en as we were about closing they suddenly gave way before us, and a die charge of grupe shot swept the deck from two six pouudtrg, which until then had been concealed from our view, that laid a do'z i men sprawiing in death. Before we had time to recover from th confusion int.. which w< » were thrown the pirates rushed on ua wit- loud yells,^ cutting, hacking, aud stabbing, and bearing ail befoit them. " Stand, men, stand, or all is lost," shouted our leader. " Dowu with them, give uo quarter,' thundered the pirate captain. In an Instant their blades were crossed, a few rspl 1 blows wen exchanged, and our gallant leader lay stretched on the d* ck. Om ca « e was now hopeless, death stared us in the face, tbe pirate* who were more than treble our number, closed round our dimi- ish** d body. Come, my lads.*' cried Martin, *' we have no chance, le' us se!; • ur lives as dearly ai we can," and he sprang forward and attacke the pirate cuptiiin with the utmost fury; twice did hU bhuu dee- en i ou th* head of his antagonist, out the steel bonrdtng tat which he wore shielded him from harm, and the uext instant my brave friend lay stretched beside his leadeffo Revenge my lads, revenge," shouted I, driven to fury at the sight, and I daiihed forward followed by my little band. " Down with the madmen f" thundered the pirate. " Defend yourself, villain !" shouted I as I sprang npon him, whirling my cutlass about like a madman; with a sweep of his blade lie dashed it from my hand, and lifting me up as if 1 was an Infant, he hurled me to the other side of the deck. I gained my feet With a Spring, and bounded at him with my dirk before he was aware. I got within his sword arm, my hand was raised to deal a deadly blow, when he struck me with the pommel of his sword on the forehead, and again sent me to the deck; a thousand lights dvneed before my eyes, a confused sotfnd of the claihlng of swords, and report of fire- arms rane in my ears, and a voice that sounded like the trumpet of mercy, shouted, " Hurrah for Old England! to the rescue, my lads, to the rescue." It was like an electric shock to my scattered senses— I gained my feet, and there beheld my gallant captain, at the head of a re- inforcement from the frigate, engaged In a despetate eti'Jf& h; with the pirates. Inch by Inch and foot by foot were the scdutK?. rels driven back; I looked to see where was thetr Captain, suddenly he sprang on the taffrail, and waving on high his left arm, ( lets right hung brokeu by his side,) he shoated, " Fire the train !" A tremendous explosion rent the ship asunder, I lost my sense- as I was whirled in the air, and when I recovered them I was In my hammock on buard the frigate, where I learnt that I and four others, one a pirate, was all who escaped death. The pirate, how- ever, soon after paid the penalty for his crimes on the gallows. LLOYD'S LIST or POPULAR WORKS' SIXTY- FIVE HUMOUROUS ENGRAVINGS BY AN EMINENT ARTIST, AND TEN NEW l.' OMlC SONGS ( BY PREST) FOR ONE PENNY! ! ! " THE PENNY SUNDAY TIMES GALLERY OF COMICALlTiES," CONTAINS TUB FOLLOWING ORIGINAL COMIC SONGS, WRITOU* BXPRKSSLY FOR THK WORK :— A Private Still. Happy Land— a Sad Lot. Poor Jack— Please Re- Mem- ber Jack. PBPPBR.— This useful and wholesome condiment Is the fruit of a creeping plant extensively cultivated in the East Indies, and in daily use in every quarter of the globe. It is distinguished by the names of white and black pepper— white, which is held In the highest estimation, ( especially by the Chinese) is the interior part or kernel, and oroduccd by selecting the finest grains when they arrive at the highest state of perfection, and rubbing off the outer coat or skin. The black pepper being the small, Imperfect, and shrivelled berries, and often little more than husks or chaff. Much abour having lately been bestowed in the production of white pepper, and a very large quantity having been imported into this country within the last two years, the price of the finest quality Is only sixpence per pound, or about a ha fpenny an ounce more than that of the most inferior description of black; aud as one ounce of the former is from its sut erior strength and purity equal to two or three ounces cf the latter, white pepper will be found not only the best but the cheapest for every purpose. MACBKTB. ANSWERS FO 6HA# ADE& ANSWER TO THK FIRST THARADK it/ NO- 61. After reading your Charade, I have not the least doubt, That Melbourne you mean as the great diner out. ANSWER TO THE SBCOND CHARADE IN NO. 61. I have studied the second, arid niy mind I have eased, By finding Comwallls Is the noble deceased. ANSWER TO THK THIRD CHARADB IN NO. 61. You ; ove a g. od tune, and so do I, If the tones are * weet and not too liigfe, When talent is displayed with art. And nature felt throughout the part. When men with sorrow are opprest, How sweet to sleep and take their rest. A famous neople lu their day, The itowaiis fe^' We all & u. t say. Bust on iron is often seen * Senators use their power I ween. Sin to men will ruin prove, If evil be not changed for love ; Yst Nature, with the worst of men, Alay Change and twrn to good again,— An era fresh will then be^ fn, And man no longer then will sin. Now Mensuration will be seen, Kind reader, as the word you mean. Jerusalem Place, Manchester. May 29, 1841. ANSWER TO THK FIRST CHARADB IN NO. 62. Tho' the bugle may sound, and the larum drum beat, The true British soldier despises retreat.— He will rush to the thickest, and die ' midst the brave, And dastard nhall ne'er murk the stdne ot bis grave. Keep my hcu* e clear of rats, ahd still In the stead L^ t my feet never stray on tile adder's foul hed ; In the maze of the forest, in the light stfiiny riir. Let m- J find out the track ot the poor tltnid hdfe, Th- n homeward return to enjoy the settee With a friend by my side, who, with excellent glee Will partake ot my hash, with ketchup well spattered, V'hi e the storm raves without, and the mountain ash bat- t ' redi The a* hes the while drop red from the grate, And the Sprat is fresh cooked and gf- » ces the plate. May my ' riend ne'er be tattered, but joy be his lot,— May he whtt'd deter him. by the iVorld be forgot. On tbe ticnpike of life, if covered with splashes, May he stili be enabled to wear Spatterdashes. ANSWKR TO THK SKCQND CHARADE IN NO. 62. The first is the nightlnwle slugs to the gale. Next the rat and th< t ratan,— you see I don't fail. To have but a farthing; a stoic » ould vex ; Farthingalo then inhales the loviest sex. Newcastle. ARCADIAN. ANSWER TO THE FOURTH CHARADE IN NO. 62. In a portion of land a carrot » i, d potatoe'will grow, The top is a toy, C* t and rat are animals we know. Pot and p'll for cooking h* ve always been found, A car you call n chariot, but a scar is not U wound. A cannon deals destruction when in battles they're fought. A carp is a fish ofa rather « ca< ce sort. A scoop is a ladle, but there you don't stop, It appears also too your supporter's a prop. Now to answer your task and make no more oration, Fifteen letters will be seen in Procrastination. Half moon Street. J. R. Q. CHARADES. I. My first is two~ fourths of the bottom of a window, My second is the proceeding time to Easter, Aud my whole is exceedingly quiet. II. Part of the face. Three- eighths of a village in Hauts, and The opposite to her. Gives the name of a foreign prince. III. Three- fifths of a bad temper, And an article moch used in Bermondsey, Gives the name of foreign potentate. IV. Take an old English measure, and part of the face, Will bring to your view a most flourishing place. V. My first is a term used by Quakers, My second, a building near the sea, Aud my whole, the name of a renowned commander, VI. My first Is two- fifths of a town in Bedfordshire, My second is a number, My third is a foreign appellation for heads, And my whole are men high in power. VII. My first is seen in any market- plnce. Though I'm too weighty for a steeple- chase j My second's seen in Kssex and in Kent- Is often jiear the Thames and noble Trent. My whole, then, is a place of great renown- Is not a borough or a simple town, But Is i place in histrionic fame, So now you'll please to tell what is my name. VIII. My first is a man that is fond of his wealth, Who cares not tor nought but his ^ oid; My second Is. certain, a sign of good health, As appears when this problem is told. Then my whole is a sad and an unhappy state, Which we one and ail try to avoid; If we see it, how hard we then think our fate, Aud our pleasures are sadiy ailoyed. C. W. DUCKKTT. IX Nature and art my presence own. I'm seated on the monarch's throne; In the water, in the fire. In the strains of the love- tuned lyre In the centrm of the earth. In sorrow, griet, and eke in mirth, In the brght nocturnal star. In the clamourous rout of war, In the air. aod in the ground. In every circle 1 am found. A. J. P. X When the moon's in full splendour, and shines on the phrin My first is exposed to the view; My second, when sailors are ploughing the main, Is their guide— their direction, ' tis true ; My third's to be found in each terrace and square, And parish, search London around; My whole is a place, but I nevor was there, In the county of Sussex ' tis found. Ramsg « te. D. W. P. ArROSTlC. TO ILY INFANT SON. W hen the first dawu of reason shall beam on thy mind, I n the blossom of childhood so merry and gay, ( L et thy cares to thy ball and thy top be confi. ed3) L ite'a season, that passes so buoyant away I n that happy season, remeaibor, my boy, A nd let it induce ye to laugh and to play, M anhood's sorrow too frequent succeeds boyhood's joy. J ust as rain succeeds sunshine or night succeeds day, O ut, out on the oafs that would check pleasure then; R igid tools, who look st^ rn on ' he spoits of 1 child, D o their thick noddies know that the wisest of men, A re those whom in boyhood were deem'd the most wild, N ow listen, my SOD, and let this l> e your piau. O f this maxim take heed, as you travel through life | R emember. at best, '-; s no mora than a span, O f pastime and mirth gather all that you can ; J£ aukind will pluck tor you both trouble and strife. K. J. OROM. John Delf— In his Cups. Hard- Up; or, shocking Ex- tremities. The Contented Man. My Sarah and Me. Domestic Economy. Brandy and Salt. Population; or, It's all owing to the Family Ointment. AND ALSO THK FOLLOWING GRAPHIC SKXTCHBS: ~ The Maid of the Mill.— A Genrral Rising.— Physical Force.— Bringing HJin too ( Two).— A Black Fast.— Ladles of the Court.— His Mind Is on the Rack.— Settling a[ c] Count; Double Entry.— Friar Bacons— Giving Himself ( H) airs.— Contracting an Acquaint- ance.— A Heavy > well.— A Good Bite.— Hodge's Best.— Sedau- tery Occupation.— Cutriut Jam ; a Friendly Squeeze.— A Neat Turn- out.— A Votary of tbe Nine.— Taking the Pledge.- Warlike Guise ( Guys).— Food for Reflection.— Ceiling Whacks: a Bel- frey. — A Promising Child.— A Boy in a Fit.— Giving np the Ghost — Cabriolet Society.— Pieass^ es of " Fancy."— Best London Porter. — A Back Settler.— Going by the Post; General Delivery.— Come of Age.— Cutting Him to the Quick.— Breaking Cover.— Sauce ( Source) of the Nigger ( Niger).— A Joey's Pleasure — A & ad Plight. — A Belly Full of Grapes.— The ChanO*'"* One.— A Private Box. Taken in A[ r] reit. — The Lively Sn.^ ckj Looking Out for Squalls.— Hebrew Melodies.— A Funny Pair.— A Good Calling — A Shocking Stick.— The Pot- boy.— Summut b^ ort.— Detachment of Cavalry.— Deprived of the Use of their OrgamT'— Neat as Im- ported.— A Free- Booter.— Famy Fair.— At a Stand- S.^ U.— An Un- happy Attachment — Coming it Slap. « V* THE EMBELLISHMENTS HAVE BEEN ENGRAVED AT THE ENORMOUS EXPENSE OF 1,000 GUINEAS 1.'! In Weekly Numbers at Id., and Monthly Parts at 4d., the New aud Highly Interesting Romance of KATHLEEN! OR, THE SECRET MARRIAGE. The First Number, containing Eight closely- printed Pages, Two splendid Engravings on separate paper, and a most Magnifi- cent Wrapper, presented GBATI. s with No. .54 of " THE PENNY SUNDAY TIMES, AND PEOPLE'S POLICE GAZKTTB." Shortly will be Published in Weekly Numbers at Id., and Monthly Parts at 4d., EMILY FITZORMOND! OR, THE DESERTED ONE. With No. I, will be presented GRATIS, TWO Magnificent Plates and a Wrapper. Shortly will be Published, In Numbers at One Penny, and Four- penny Monthly Parts, ERNIIESTINE DE LACY! OR, THE ROBBER'S FOUNDLING. With No, 1, will be presented GUATIS, TWO 8plendid Engravings on separate pauer, and a Wrapper. Complete in 104 Numbers at One Penny each, or Elegantly Bound at Nine Shillings and Sixpence, ELA. TME OUTCAST! OR, THE GIPSY GIRL OF ROSEMARY DELL. A TALK OF THE MOST THRILLING INTEREST. Complete in 24 Numbers at Sixpence each, BLACK- EYED SUSAN! OR, THE SAILOR'S BRIDE. A NAUTICAL ROMANCE. In Numbers at One Penny each, or Fourpenny Monthly Parts, Stitched in a neat Wrapper, THE HEBREW MAIDEN! OR, THE tOST DIAMOND. A ROMANCE OF THE DAYS OF CHIVALRV. Complete in 20 Numbers at Sixpence each, VICTORIA! OR, THE MYSTERIOUS STRANCLR. BY A POPULAR AUTHOR. To be Completed in 18 Numbers at One Penny each, or Neatly Bound. Price Two Shillings, GALLANT TOM! OR THE PERILS OF A SAILOR ASHORE AND AFLOAT. INTERSPERSED WITH ANECDOTES, TOUOH YARNS, ETC. In Penny Weekly Numbers, and Fourpenny Monthly Parts, ANGELINA! OR, THE MYSTERY OF ST. MARK'S ABBEY. A TALE OF DEEP INTEREST. PARR'S INFALLIBLE LIFE PILLS which are now recommended by all who have tried them : they buve b* en the means of restoring to health many thousands who haVe • uffered bv dire dlsea » e and Hl- health.— Read the following letter from Mr. NOKI. E. of Hull; It is well wortiiy of perusal:— To THB PROPRIETORS OF PARR'S INFALLIBLE LIFB PILLS. Gentlemen,— Since I undertook the agency of this popular Medi- cine, I can * lth truth aver, that it has, to my own knowledge been a very great blessing to score* of persons In this town and neigh- bourhood. Indeed, so numerous are the testimonials to the ver- mes of ** PARR'S PILLS," in the cure of inveterate disease, that many persons who had been quite hopeless of any relief, have ob- tained a permanent and perfect CVRK. To particularize would le useless; tbe cases are so numerous. One person was cured of a bad leg of 15 years duration ; another, of Rheumatism ot 10 years standing; others, of A'thms, & c., These " re among the CUKES; and numerous are the cases of RSLIEF In Bilious and Liver Complaints, Sick Head Ache. Coughs, Cold*, and Diseases ofthe Stomach and I) » Rregtlve Organs, &<?. From these FACTS, more than from anf mode of advertising the * ale of the Pills is daliy Increasing; every person who has been benefited is anxious to recommend them, ana' assist his neigh- bour.— Enclosed is ^ 50, which please send me in PiV.' s by the next coach. I am, Gentlemen, your's. respectfully, JOSEPH NOBLE, Printer, Bookseller, and Stationer. 23, Market- p'ace, Hull.- r- Jan. IS, 1841. IMPORTANT CAUTION. It has been discovered, that vile attempts bave been made to substitute base imitations for the genuine Medicines; in proof of which, attention Is Invited to the following Advertisement, which appeared in the NOTTINGHAM REVIEW, of Jan. 29, 1841 : PUBLIC ACKNOWLEDGMENT. I, the undersigned JOHN CUB LEY, lute of Derby, but now of the town of Nottio « ham. heretofore a schoolmaster, but now out of employment, do hereby acknowledge, that I hav* JaMy got com mounded some pills which I have sold to differeKt persons as " OL ® PARH'S LIFE PILLS." by representing that I had pur ; hased the Recipe for that celebrated medicine; suc^ i represen- tation was however, entirely false, and the proprietors r, f the genuine Old Parr's Life Pills, have commenced legal proceedings ' gainst me, for ihe above fraud. But I having expressed sorrow and contrition, and given up to them the names and addresses of each person to whom I have sold any of such pills, as well as of fhe Irugsrists who compounded the same, and agreed to make this nubile ap logy, and pay all the expenses, including this advertise- ment. the proprietors have kindly consented to forego such letraJ oroceedlngs. I do, therefore, declare my shame and sorrow for having committed such an imposition on the public, and such a fraud on the proprietors of Old Parr's Life Pills, and turther ex- press my acknowledgments for their lenity. JOHN i UBLEY. Dated this 28th day of January. 1831. Witness— H. B. CAMPBELL, Solicitor, Nottingham^ In order, therefore, to protect the public from such imitat'ons • he Hon. Commissioners of Stamp* have ordered " PARR'S LIFE Plf- LS" to be engraved ou the Government Stamp attached to ach box, without which none are genuine. LBTTElt From Mr. J. DRURY, of Lincoln, ahewing th* high estimation these invaluable Medicines are held in that City " To the Proprietors of Parr's Life Pills. " GENTLEMEN.- " I lieg to Inform you, several persons have acknow'edgpd ' o me they have experienced great improvement in their health, hrough taking Old Parr's Pills; in particular a lady, who said " he • ever knew what it was to be without p « in in her head, but after taking one box. she has been free from it ever since 41 Yon must, I am s . re, from the great demand for the Pills at ny shop, think they are considered here of great value, a; yd I have io doubt many more will be sold when they are genera ly known ; > n fact, some folks begin now to think they will have no occasion o make their wills for the next 90 or 100 years to come. I am, your obedient Servant, JAMM DRURT. 224, near the Stone Bow, Lincoln, September 28, 1840. Pr'ce Is. 1J4., 2s. 9d., and family boxes Us. each; the boxes at 2s 91. contain equal to three small, aad those at lis. equal to five < t 2s. 9il. Full directions are given with each box. This Medicine is sold wholesale, by appointment, by EDWARDS, St. Paul a Church Yard, Loudon. A Book of 16 pages, containing a memoir of tbe " LIFE AND TIMES OF THOMAS PARR." who lived to be 152 years of age, may > e had GRATIS of all the accredited Agents for the " sale of PARR'S INFALLIBLE PILLS." This hook will not be re- quired again; IT if GIVEN TO YOU. and you will confer a favour tpon the Proprietors, it you will LBND it to sucb of your friends as < re suffering from any disease, as it, is sure to be interesting and iseful." OBSERVE the before- mentioned important CAUI'ION ; none » re genuine unless they have the H^ adofOld Parr on eat h box, tod the words- PARR'S LIFE PILLS* ou the Government Stamp* co imitate which is Felony. London .— Printed and Published by E LLO\ D% 231, Htgh Street, Snoreditch; and al 44, Holuwell- slrteu Strand.