POETRY. THE BLIND MAN'S CONSOLATION. fitill alleads tot, ti aid* internal sight, And from snrh scenes defends me A* blush to see tbe light. JSo weeping objects^grieve me, No gbTTericg fop offends, No fawning smiles deceive me, Kiod darkness me befriends. Then cense yonr a«eless waiiilagb- I know no refkrors why- Mankind to all their failings-, ,-ire all-as Ijiiad aq I-
The following is on authentic copy of the toiil of Mr Jackilt, thirty lifars a clerk to Messrt. Fut- ler axd Funglian, in Coryihiil, as brought to Its proved in Doctors' Commons f give and bequeath. When t'ia liiid underneath. To my two loving sisters, most dear. The whole of my store, Were it twice a* much more. Which God's goodness has granted me here And that none may prevent, This my Win and intent, Or occasion the least of law racket, With a solemn appeal, I confirm, sign, and seal, This the iroe aui and deed of W I LI,I AM JACK!
LINES ON A SLEEPING INFANT. A aT thou a thing of mortal birth. Whose happy home is ou our earth ? Dods human blood with lifeembue "rlhJe wandering veins of heavenly bine, That stray along thy forehead fair. Lost 'mid a gleams golden hair ? Oh can that light and airy breath Steal from a being dooni'd to death ? Those features to thegrave be sent In sleep thus inaiely eloquent ? Or, art thou, what thy form would seeM, The phantom of a blessed dream ? Oft fhat my spirit's eye could see Whence burst those gleams of ecstasy 1 That light of dreaming soul appean To play from thoughts above thy years. Thou smii'JT as if fifty YOU I were soaring To heaven, and heaven's God adoring And who can tell what visions high May bless an infant's sleeping eye ? What brighter throne can brightness find To reign on thali an infant's mind, Ere siii deS'Tl)y, or dim, The glory of the seraphim? Oh vision fair! that I could be Again, a« young, assure as thee ] iinwish! the rainbow's radiant form Mij view, but cannot brave the storm -Yeiirs ei-i heiiirto tht- zl)rgeous dyes j Yhal paiut the bird of paradise, .nri ye,¡rq" .¡J f:He haJh ordrimed, roll Clouds o'er the summer of the soul.
OUR LADY'S WELL.* 1 FotrWT of the NY(lods thou art hid no more clear a,; iii time of yore I j,'Or the to, ,It x!ti sirtik,rroin thy (iogiy wl&lls,, And the Sun's free glance on thy slumber falhl And the dim tree shadow* across ihee pass, ,Ai the t)otigtij are Hway'd n'er thy silvery I. And the reddening leaves to thy breast are blown, When the Autumn wind Inlh a stormy tone, And thy babbles rise to the flashing raio- Bright Posai-I thou art Na/ure's owo again Fount of the Vale thou art sought oo more By the Pilgrim's fool, as in time of yore. When be tune fwllt afar his beads to tetf. And to chatint his by am at our Lady's Weft. There is heard no Ave through thy bowers, Thou art gleaming lone 'midst thy water flowers; But the herd may drink from thy gushing ware, And there may the reaper his forehead lave-, And the woodman seeks thee not in vain- Bright Fount lliou art Nature's own again Fount af the Virgin's ruin'd shrine A voice that speaks of the pa*t is thine? It mingles the tone of a thoughtful sigh With the notes that ring through the laughing sky 'M id the mirthful song of the summer bird, And the sound of the breeze it will yet he heard Why is it (hat thus we may look on thee, To the festal suushine sparkling free. ?- 'Tis that all on eartl, is of Time's domain- He hath made thee Nature's own again ,T(lunt of the Cliai)el with aee% gr ey Thoa art springing freshly amidst decay Thy rites are past, and thy Cross lies low, And the ctiangefut hours breathes o'er thee now! Y i-t if *t t-hitie altar one holy thought III man's deep spirit of old halh wrought, If peace to the mourner hath here been given, Or pra\t' fr"m 'i cha.l"d bt:IHI 10 Ilei,-ro, the spot Mill hallow'd while Tune shall reign, $\y5)(» hall) tnade thee Nature's own a.,4in i A -heauiifnl Spring in North a I f,, r,ne r ly 'dedicated to the VJtgm, and much frequented by Pilgr rois. 0-
i cli IT) .11 Igoe-IV cry iq,K I"ire liqt"i iii by a at a > n~te" windo*, w->h *• H ntloo"! bring one here." Pat stared about hiai, raid ttoi observing his customer, "he looked up chamber wiwlons.— A; the same m«»"iien!. (tie p-rson raiied our, «• flt-re Wha' the devil make* j<>u so h'gh- m'-nded ibis morning?" Pat insiamly Kt.i a > Kh( ,■ j,j, customer, and. tripping ar ft\e lew window, i rt-iivered 'he list, wi'h, Kv Ja-oit, Sir, the rea- J' son 1 am ,0 liigh-mioded is, becausc 1 was lorn ttp tUirs
CHURCH USAGES. BSLI,S.—The invention of—bells, that is to say, such as are hung in the towers or steeples of churches, is, by Proly dore Virgil and others, ancriber) to Pauliuus, Bishop of Nola, in Cam- pania, about the year 400; and it is said Ihat the words Note-and Cay?ipanx-lhe one referring tn the city, and the other to the country—were, for that reason, riven to theut. The people were ltrst calfed together to prayers, at stated hours in the day, by the sound of a bell, by a decree of Pope Sabinian, the successor of St. Gregory. The first large bells in England, are mention- ed by Bede, towards the latter end of the sixth century and it is supposed that the first Hint-a- hie bells were set up 10 Cruylalld Abbey, in the year 690. Matthew Paris observes, that anciently the use of bells was prohibited in time of oiounini<f, of bells was prohibited in time of fir(,urttiit;r though at present tbey make one of its principal ceremonies. The custom of christening hells iq Yet-) unci- I ent it is said to have been introiluced by Pope j John Xlll. in 972; but it is evidently of an earlier origin, there being an express prtthibiiiou of it in a Capitular of Charlemagne. Bells, in the time of popery, were baptized, anointed," Oieo Chiismntisexercised,-and bles- red by the Bishop; these and other ceremonies ended, it was believed that thev had power to drive the devil out of the air, c;i!m storms and tempests, make fair weather, extinguish sudden fires, and raise the dead. The dislrke of spirits to bell is thus men- tioned in the Goldtn Legend, by Wynken de Woidp — It is said, the evil spirytes, that been in the rego.n of thayre, double moche when they hear the bells rongen and this is 'he cause why the belles ben rougen when it ihoitdre'h, and whanne grete tempests and outrages of wether happen, to 'he elide that the fiends and wyched spirytes Uiold lie ah:isheii and flee, and cease of the movynge of lenipeste." II "as customary to put the following lines within the steeple, or others to the same pur- port, declaratory of the various uses they were ;*[)I)lie(i to Laudo Deum verum, plebem voco, coti rego clerum, Defunctos ploro, peqll"m fugo, fepta decoro. i praise ihe true GOD, Cltlllhe people, convene the clergy, Lament the dead, dispel pestilence, and grace festival-. The use of bells in churches gave origin to 'hat singular piece of building the campanile, or bell tower, an addition which is more susceptible of the grander beauties of architecture than any- other part of ,he ed,fii-e. It was the iil)- pendage to every parish church of the S JXOHS, and is actually mentioned as such in Hie lawti 01 Athelstan. The practice of ringing changes on bells is said to be peculiar lo England, whence griltsiil has been called the ringing island. This peculiarity is ludicrously ooticed by all ancient traveller, who observes that the English are vastly fond of -great noises that fill the ear, and particularly the ringing of Jtelis; •' so that it is common," says he, for a Dumber of them, when they have got a glass iu their heads, to go up into some belhy, and ring the bells for'hours together for the sake of exercise." This custom seems to have began witti The Saxono, and was common before the C'MXjtiejt. Bell-ringing, though a recreation Ctiiefly of the lower cla*»?«, is ntvt (if ifelf im iirj out. or uoworthy of notice. Musical composers, however-, seem to have wriUeo but little upon the subject. fit England the practice of ringing is redured to s science-; and peals have been ciiinposed-which bear ihe names of Ihe inventors. Some-of the most celehrated peals now known were composed about seventy -years ago by one P,itrit-k. There is a curiollll entry from the Ctitiri I-,iiar- den's Accounts of Waltham (given in fuller's ] history of the Abbey there J, dated 1542, 34ih Henry VII I. relative to a payment to the ringers, oil occasion of that Monarch's Visiting Wallham. Item -Paid for ringing at the Prince at his coming, a penny." This welcoming the arrival of Kings or Am- bassadors with a chearful peal, is a very old cus- tom, and seems to, have been ilziived originally from the French*. CLOCK ,Clock is the old German word for bell, and hence the French say una cloche. There were no clocks in England in Alfred's day. He is said to have measured histirue hy wax calldlt's marked with. circular lines to distinguish the bnuis Stowe enusequently wties, he 'Sa}'s that clocks were commanded to be set up in churches in the year 612. Strii,it, fit tiii 4nii. quitits, confesses that he had not been able to trace the invention of cJock in Euglatid. CHuRcn PoRcu.-The porch was. without doubi, a very antieut appendage to the church, and an bough it has usually been considered as a mere ornament, yet it had in former times special uses. lo that part of ihe will of the pious Henry VI., in which be gives directions for the foundation of his, College at Efoti, are these words :-tI Item. In the south side of the both of the church, a fair large door wnh a porch, and Ihe same to be for the-christening of children, and weddings." But the most particular use of the 'porch was in administering the Sacrament of Bap- tism. The partlculMS of these ceremonies may be found in the old Roman ftiiual, aud are very carious. At the Reformation, all the uses to which the porch had been applied, were transferred into the church, as being in every respect more agree- able to the sacred liurposes above-mentioned. CUASCEI..—Th« <-h.a«cel is that the choir of the church between the communion table, aud the screen that separates it from the tiate, it has always been considered as the aiost sacred part of the church, anft by ancient constitutions, no woman was allowed to stand within the chancel, or to approach the aliar, and tillo cus- tom continued till the Reformation ALTAR,-Ili the primitive church the altars were made of wood, in order that they might be portable, and more easily removed from place to place, but file Council of Paris ill 509 1 1 that every iolinrobould he made of s ioite. It was taken from the wall, and out in the middle of the church in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and was thenceforth denominated 'he Coniinun u>n Table, It is now Osually placed at ihe east end of the chancel. I The custom of bowing to the altar, and to praying towards the east, is veiy »ncieiit. St. Austin says-h whclI we pray standing, we IIlfll ¡ our face to the east, from whence ihe day spring* [ that we may be reminded of a aitfre excellent na- itire-natnely. FONT.—The front was" usually-plated at the west end of ihe church. M-viy of ihem still ex- isting in oar ot«J parish churches, deeUl Iheir de- corations to have from the Saxon and Norman times. The .term font was osually ap- I plied to the font-, or,pool; wherein persons were initinerqi-d or to the vessel capllble of admitting alhdl, and, af hlst, to the vessel we are -speaking of, to contain only the wale In the first baptisteries, l-ioth admiimtratnrs and candidate- went down steps into the hall) in after ages, the adoiinisiraior* went up fliers i-o a platform, on which stood a small b*th called a loot. In modern practice the font remains, but a bason ot water, set into the font serves the pur- pose, because it is uot supposed necessary that the administrator should go into the water, or thai the candidate should be immersed. FUNERAl, MONUMENTS.—Sepulchral monu- ments have been erected frotn the earliest ages, as memorials of piety aud gratitude, and were much in use among the Greeks and Romans, to whom we are indebted for many of otir funeral rites and ceremonies. The Romans were for- bidden by the tenth law of the Twelve Tables, to bury any person within town or city and in England the dead were anciently buried out of cities or towds, on the ridges of hills, or upon open plains, as may he still seen in 1113ny parts of ihe country and amoll our Saxon ancestors it was usual to bury such as were slain in banle in 'he open field, with raised turf laid upon their bodies the ileigbi of the turf denoting either the ijnality or valour of the deceased. This m ide of b.urtal continued in practice among the early Christians until ihe time of Pope Gregory the Great, when prayers were first used ai lunerals for the souls of the oaparteo and it being found "-(,Fe convenient for the priest that the 0lace ot sepulture should he near the churcti, a license was procured from that pontiff to allow aud con firm this custom. II Cuthbert, the eleventh Archbishop of Canter- bury, afterwards a disprnalí()n for the making of cemetaries within the bounds of ellles or towns. The burying in or near churches wris almost immediately followed by the erec'tton ol monuments with inscription-, engraved on ihem, too perpetuate the remembrance ol the deceased, and the-;e were called epitaphs. Of nil funeral honours, epitaphs have been es teemed Ihe most respectable for hy fhein fore ¡ is shown to Ihe deceased, memory continued, friends comforted, and the reader reminded of human frailly. These posthumous memorials interesting t(, [),Iqlt,Fily troll) tile principle which prompted their erection, and they were seldom contemplated by the reader without II inspiring a hope (If the lice be- j ,d the grave. Monuments were anciently erectd agreeably to Ihe quality of the deceased, that every ofie ati!,tlt discern of what degree the person was when discern of what degree the person was when living. Princes an'ti Noblemen had their elli^ies carved in stone, or cast in brass, and these figures were intended to bear a likeness to t(te dead person round the tomb, were usually inscribed their tides marriages, issues, and employ incuts. Gentry, and coiiilifiol), were III- terred under flat stones, inscribed witlHheir name, and the time of their decease; and ihesep*n i(-u- lars weie sometimes engraved on a brass plate. YEW TUBES.— Many conjectures have been haiarded Oil the origin of the custom nf-plaoting these trees in cburch-jrards. The most probable is, that our ancestors considered them asemblems of immortality, by reason ol their evergreeu aild melancholy hue. Cheerless, unsocial plant that loves to dwell Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms. ¡ An ingenious modern writer 51tJ," all, our I siji)ereiitioui forefafher-t;, file ()allii trpe, substitute, box and yew, were solemnly blessed on Palm .Sunday, and some of their brtm.tits burnt to ashes, and used on Ash Wednesti..y j„ the following year; while other boughs were gathered and distributed among :U<t ftiuus, ""h" borne Ihem about ill their numerous processions." Caxtoo (1483) also agrees ou the sawe point nf the yew being substituted for the palm, pi file ye being for encheson," says he that we have none oij thai i,treii, icet, .14-t" take, ewe instead of palm olyve. See Du Cange. Gloss, Yr,rb. Campnrta, I
BOW-STREET A WIFELESS HUSBA NI>.—- V £ en"en,i,n ap. pl.ed lo the Magistrates W ednesday for !hejf advice how he mi*ht best obtain po*sessiiMi „f young lady whom he Uad fawttiHy married, applicant was a young man of gentleman.y mau_ ners and well dressed and he reslly see<j!e,j sadly puzzled with the dilemma In whIch he found himself _1. It appears that this unfortunate v.einand i a young lady, residing with her fa:her at Chelsea fell desperately in love wiih each other, the middle of lhat line hot summer —the sumnier be- fore last. They to»k the liberty of lalhii? i„ love with each other without 'he consent ot her father, and gave her father great ofrelice for he was a man of large property and tiigh notions— an exact personification of 'hat sulk), purse- proud thing, a true-born Englishman. lie would hear nothing about the power ol mighiy boy GolI," in his opinion, was little bHt"-r)hana"b<=:<ir'sc<'))a()' and he ordered his daughter to think no more of such confonntj. ed nonsense. His daughter, however, thought she could not help thinking of i', and so think of it she did, till just at the fair of the leaf- somewhere about the middle of October last year she consented to bless ibis geiHletnso by tiecn'ning his wife clandestinely. She thought with Shaftspeare's Theseus, that Karthlier happy is the rose disliU'd, Thau that, which witherjog on Ihe virgin thorn, <♦ Grows, lives, aud dies in single blessedness They were married by licence-special licence he saul, at St. George's Hanover-square, ami as SOOIJ as the ceremony was over, the bride return- ed to her father's house at Chelsea, as if nothing at all had happened. They had previously agreed that she should continue to reside with her papa, until theit destinies should brighten up a little but nevertheless they contrived to meet each other occasionally, and they were as happy as could -b- e jtpedeti. Thii,<rs w««t on m »h-s way up to the latter end of February last, and then every thing in the shape of happiness was over for ihe old Gentleman found out that they were married, allll he was so excessively angry at it., that he spirirell the young lady away from his house, and nobody could tell her husband whither she was gone, fie had wandered about from place to place, and town to town, half over the kingdom, «" search of her and though he often came where she had been, yet he was always a 0,11 L few hours, or a few days, too late. Sometimes he thought she might he sent to the Continent, and he had made incessant inquiry at all the for- eign Ambassadors, but no passport had been ob. tained in her name, or that of her father. %Vliest the Geti;li-,man bad got thus fit in hi4 story, Sir RICHARD BUINIB asked him if his Lady was of age ? The gentleman replied lhat she was. She had passed her twenty thud year, and had considt'r;¡ hie property in her own rig/it 16 buttifth(it i(io," added be, sighing, tht.y have deprived me by some ugly Chancery proceeding!" Sir RICHARD told him his was certainly a very pitiable case but it was intirely out of (he jiirii. diction of e Magistiate You should apply to a Judge for a writ of flobtus Corpus,' Ah, Sir!" replied the good gentleman, I have tlone thai already and Mr. Justice Hol- royd told me I might have a w¡'¡t but—as his Lordship observed —if the father should make a return to ii that he does not know where his i daughter H, I should be just where I am. And so 1 really don't know what to do." Nor I," said Sir RICHARD. Nor I," said Mr. HALLS and the luckless i Benedict sighed aud sluwly withdrew.
I THE BACH ELqWS REGISTER, I I AT 16 years incipient palpitations are maoi- I fested towards the young ladies. 17 hiach blushing ami confusion occurs when addressed by a handsome woman. IS Confidence in conversation with the ladies is much increased. 19 Becomes angry if treated by them as a hoy. 20 Betrays great consciousness of his owu charms and manlioess. 21 A looking gKiSs becomes an indiepensahie piece of furniture in his dressing-room, and in some instances finds its way into the pocket, 22 In culferable puppyism now exhibited. 23 Thinks no woman good enough to enter lie illirriace Willi hill). } 24 Is caught unawares by the snares of Cupid. The connection broken off from self con- cell Oil his part. 26 Conducts himself wifh air of much supe- riiiroty towarils her. 27 fays his addresses to soother lady, not without hopes of umrlityiog the firs'. 28 Is mortified and frantic oo being refused. 28 Rails against tlie lair sex in general as heari less beings. 3D Seem* morose and out of humour in all conversations on matt iinony. 3! Contemplates matrimony more under the influence of interest thai) previously. 32 Begins to consider pertotial beauty in a wite not so ind ispeu-iabie H" formerly. 33 Still tetains a high opinion of his a'trac- il) 34 Consequent■ y has the hope that he may still marry a chicken. 35 Falls deeply aud violently in love with one ieveitteell, 30 Ah dernier desespoir another refusal. 37 Indulges now in every kind of dissipation, 38 Shuns the best part of the female set, and finds some consolation for his spleen in the so- ciety of ladies, of easy dispositions. 39 Suffers much remorse bllll mortification in so doing. 40 Begins fn think he is growing old, yet still feels a Iresh budding of matrimonial ideas, but no spring shoots. 41 A nice, buxom young widow begins to per- plex him. 42 Ventures to address her with mired sen- sations of lovg and interest. 43 interest prevails, which callses much cay tiotis relfection. 44 The willow jilts him, being full as cautious as himself. 45 Becunes every day more gloomy acid averte to the fair sex. 46 Gnuiy and nervous symptoms now begin to assail hint, 47 Fears what may become of him when lie gets old and infirm but still pefsuaoes himself he is a young man. 58 Thinks living alone irksome. 49 Resolves to have a prudent young woman as house-keeper bnd companion. 50 A nervous affection about him, and fre- quent attacks of ilie gout. 51 Much pleased with his new housekeeper a» a IIlIoe, Begins to some-attachment to her. 53 Hit pride "-vottii at the idea ofmiiryin^ her. 54 Is in greart distress how to act. 55 Completely under her influence, and very miserable. 50 VTany patnrm iiinu-ixa oimot ;«»w -ih. her. aod3t1emJlf!l 10 fain her on h« »»i»-terms. I 57 She refutes to live any longer with hiai tola 58 Gsu'y, nervous, and bilious fo exce«sv 59 F"els very ill, sends for her to tis I)etisi(le, to her. GO Gtows rapidly worse, has his will made-in her favour, and mnkes bis exit in her arms.
An account of two shocking Murders^ pk'nned. utiil cj £ 6ci-it<'d itt- the hist./gation of a zoonian. WHEN passing through Monthellier some time back| a story was related to me, of which' the facts had iranspired many years; and when- ever I-recollect them, they always produce a feeliogjof horror. The talt, ran thus: A gent!e» man of family aud fortune in that neighbour- hood, who was advancing in years aud yet con tinued bachelor, was continually pressed by his friend, friends to get married. After hesitating a considerable tidic before he would enter into an engagement so important to d I mined at 1"II"th to his own happiness, he determined at length to yield to their entreaties, and he made choice of a young lad), whose parents were poor, in.pre- ference to all the advantageous opportunities that presented themselves; her only fortune was her personal attractions. t' When he informed her mofhpr of his affection for ti@-r the 1)roii)eei was much to be desired by her fai»'ly» she con- sidered her duty paramount to her interest, and told him that her daughter's temper was exceed- ingly violent, and would tend to nvir their hap- piness, should the union be solicited to take place, She then pointed out her fhree other daughters, whose disposition were infinitely more amiable, and strongly recommended the eldest one. Mr. Foucari(for Ibis was the name of the lover) determined upon either having ihe. girl he had selected, or none. The marriage was at length solemnized, in spite of the inequality of the age, or difference of their tempers. The young lady certainly dissimulated, acting her part vyell.it! order to draw on the marriage but no sooner was the bidding knot tie, IliaCI she threw off all disguise, and boldy followed lllv 'W')' of her indinatioo, totally regardless of the regularity of her husband's habits, and assuming all 'he airs of a minx. The good gentleman endeavoured to reason with her on the impropriety of her behaviour, and to -persuade her to fulfil her duties; hoi finding she despised his advice, anil being averse lo family disturbances, he resolved t» keep aloof; and suffer her to act as she pleased. He often wellt to his country-houses, to indulge in sad re- flections. rather than remonstrate with his wife, finding she was so complete a tyrant. He would pray to God ti) change,lier disposition, ano accuse himself of his own headstrong folly her, contrary to the wishes even of her own family Although no husband could be less trouble some to a wife, nor more completely under her coniroul, yet, perhaps, she thought she should not be secure were she to iudulge in her criminal passions, she resolved lo commit a horrid crime, which was no less than her husband's death. In order to accomplish iI, shebrllJed his valel, giving him large sums of numey to destroy his master. She instructed hilD to take a gun loaded with ball, which she herself put into his hands, and directed him to follow her husband, who was gone out shooting, and blow out his brains. Fhe valet promised to do so, and went away for lhat purpose; however, w.heo evening came, he returned without accomplishing the diabolical design; he told his mistress that he reaily could not kill so good a man ? that as soon as Mr. Foucart perceived him coming towards him, he advanced to meet him, and received him so kind- ly, that none but a fiend could injure so beue»o* arivaocedlo meet him, and received him so kind- 1 ly, that none but a fiend could injure so benevo. lent a acatiire. 41 He is a man," said Ihe valet, who gives away so-much in charity, that all the poor around ) the neighbourhood bless his very name." Ma-I dame F. listened to the servant's tale without rt-ceiviitk (lie slightest impression—or rather it confirmed her stronger in her wicked resolution. The valet was an admirer of her maid, and he promised to give her a large sum of money if sbe would marry him. This temptation succeeded. and the two undertook to strangle their master. As they were both ignorant in the method of ex- ecuting this piece of work, they cOIIJmenced it so ill, that he alarmed the neighbourhood by his cries, and struggled with them severely how- ever, they ultimately completed their cruel work, alter causing the unhappy gentleman to suffer much from their awkwardness or fear. The of the place were called out, and on break- ille open the doors, the dreadful spectacle pre- sented itself. Madame Foucart, who had gone to spend the evening with one of her neighbours, on hearing the report of her husband's murder, pretended to shed tears, and to be deeply afflicted. A gen- tleman who was present, and who knew how she tyrannized over her husband, was not to be duped by her assumed grief; hut, as he had a regard for the family he took her by the arm, aod told her, if she valued her life, to fly from the coun- try. She took his advice her friends sent her to the city of Orange, where she was residing under a fictitious name when I was there. It was also said that she led a very irregular life. The valet and servant-maid were however se cured and tried they were found guilty and sen fenced to death. The former was broken upon the wheel, and the latter was hung. It was afterwards discovered that this was not fhe first murder in which Madame F. had been concerned for some time before, a young man, who was the life and soul of society, and who had continual invitations from a numerous list of acquaintances—had accepted an invitation to Jam a party of pleasure early in the morning, and when his frienlls went to call on him, they found ilifli suspended from the ceiling of his bed- rOOID. No reason could lie assigned why he, who was alwayi so cheerful, ami who had no worldly caies preying upon his spirits, should have com- muted so dreadful all act. His friends prevented the Authorities from in- (inirjtig into the circumstances of his sudden death, aite, the matter was hushed fill hut Hea- ven, in its wise decrees, threw a light upon the subject,. which banished the notion that the young man had been guilty of suicide. A wretch "ho was about to forfeit his life upon the scaf- fold, to the violated law of his country, confes- sed that he had murdered the youth at the itisu- gation of Madam Foocan, He assured the per sorts who were standing around, that he was seated m the chamber, and strangled 'he young iiiian in the dead of Ihe night, and htitig hitn up by a cord, 10 (flake, it seem probable that he de- stroyed himself. When this diabolical act was finished, he asserted that he fastened the door wiiii a bnlr, and escaped through a window. In (he morning no 'races were observable of any stranger having been iu the room, si*- it was e. nerally believed the deceased had committed suicide. The reason why Madam F. bribed this wretch to 1¡¡fI}mit_'hl murder was, that the poor young man had accidentally witnessed a scene of infamy between her and one of her lovers, and she being apprehensive he would disclose it, and rum her tottering reputation, secretly hired the assassin, who loo securely accomplished the wicked deed. tnnritf-r, were before HO suggested t»y a woman A iluiiHiml iim.I\appier is fhit individual, who j utfn8 .injustice at the hands of his enemies, thalli this wretched woman in her asylum at the city of Orange, if she be secured against the strong (ln of the law, must she not continually be dis- turbed by her congcierice-liallit not the sound of guilt always he ringing in her ears ? May God of. Ilis infinite mercy sorrell her heart, that she may sincerely repent You, my dear friend, will be much shocked with the story.
ifltecellaneous. (From the Bombay Gazitte, May 14, 182S-H-j The friends of Captain Gauibier, R. N. will pe- ruse with interest the following-account of a most miraculous escape from immediate destruction • —" On a recent elephaut shooting party at Ceylon, Captain Gambier and Mr. Hay, of the Royal Engineers, had separated from their com pattions, and were following a large female ele- phant; when pretty close to her, she suddeoly and unexpectedly turned upon (fit-in escape ap "(".Hill( impossible, they both fired but with lit- tle effect; the auimal immediately charged, knocked Captain G. down, and pursued Mr. Hay, who fell Capt. G, having recovered, and observing the imtnineat danger of Mr Ba,y, gal- 'antly ran with another gun to his assistance.— Tile elephant, On perceiving turned round, seized him with her trunk, and raiser] him from the ground wilt, is much ease as it he bad been a siraw she 'hen knelt down, »»d laid bit" on his back, still retaining her hold ? she now began gradually to lower herself. and he already felt ,he pressure which appeared the ) forerunner of certain destruction, when, naosf unaccountably, the animal suddenly "»se and re- ireated, leaving him without other injury that) a severe bruise on one knee, which be probably ■'cceived when she first knocked him down in pursuing Mr. Hay. So providential a rescue from apparently certain death ma) perhaps be alcnllllled fur by ihe elephant having bet-ncoo fused by the firing, or by her alarm at hecomiog so fardeiat hed from 'he rest of the herd." Mr. Oiien, surgeon, 341h Regiment, h^s ex- plained the cause 01 fowls dying '«' often on ship board, ii is wain of sharp cornered gravel ttJ IrHurate corn III the gizzard. This he (lisco vered by dissecting one of the dead fowls,— 'he next mep to take advantage, of the information thus gained but the maxim, thai knowledge is power,' seemed, likely to meet with an exception in this iterance, for they were many hundred miles from land, and there ap- peared little chance of finding any substitute for proper gravel on boaid the ship. Inquiries were made for a stone, by which the experiment might be niaue with a few of the fowls ? and it was soon found that abundance of a rocl\,resl,"¡ldillg ralJill', had been taken on board as ballast at St. Helena. A quantity of this was immediately broken up into pieces, about the siae of split peas, aod given to the poultry. They swallowed it eagerly,'— The sick birds weie collected, and a quantity of the specific placed before each j and though most of them were unable to stand, they de- voured it with eagerness, several in quantises of a fable-spoonful each. They all recovered ex- cept one. III short, the mortality from that time entirely ceased, and the remaining poultry (by far the principal part,) instead of dying be- came excessively fat. Fowls, when allowed to run about, are observed to be very nice ill se- lecting the pieces of stone which they swallow. In many of those which I dissected I found pieces of broken earthenware, chosen doubtless oo account of their sharp edges. I would recom- mend hard stones to be laid io for fowls on board ship, and broken up, instead of natural gravel, which is commonly more or less rounded River or sea sand, or gravel, is evidently use- less. Rirds kept in cages should have coroitantly gravei to peck at. EXTRAORDINARY AND SINGULAR PROCREA TION.—There 18 nonliving III neighbour- hood of BolJington, Cheshire, a iiiait of the name of John Jackson; the followinz par. ticulars of whose history, together wilh that of his wife, were related by himself, and can be easily stibqtai)tia(ed :-He related, that he was married the first time in the year 1763, to one Betty Brown, by whom he had 12 children, six boys and six girls. In 15 weeks after her death, he married his present wife, who before their marriage was a widow, and had had five children, now all living; by her be had 22 children in 20 years and 46 weeks, the time and circumstances of whose birth were equally singular, and probably unprecedented. He hired a cow from a ueighboiir every year during that period (in which he had but two different cows), and iu three or four weeks after the cow had calved, each time his wife was delivered of a child but in the Stat year the cow had two calves at the sanse time, aitti his wife was then pregnant; the people in the neighbourhood began to predict that his wifd would have two children, which in about three or four weeks wall realitfced in the birth of t wd boys. When he took them to the church at Prestburv to be baptized, the Minister smiled (as lie had had 32 children baptized there be- fore) and said, Well, John, have you ano- ther ?" Yes, two, Sir," was the reply.- Well what most they be called r" "Abraham and Isaac," said John. When the children had been baptized, and the ceremony was over, the Minister said, Well, John, we should have another, and call it Jacob and, faith- ful, as in times past, in about twelve month, afterwards, John's wife IIlesl him with another boy, which was called Jacob so that lie had 35 children baptized in Preittbury cllmeh. 23 of whon iu the space of 2'2 years.—Stockport Advertiser. UNION OF A DIVIDED PALATE. — In the first volume of The of the Associated Apothecaries aud Surgeon Apothecaries," just published. is an account of a successful operation for the union of n congenital division of the pa- late, which is new ia 'he annals of sutgery in this country. The surgeon was Mr. A (Cock, and the person operated upon was a young man about 1214 years of age, whose pttiatc had been cleft from his birth, The extent of the aperture was the whole length of the soft p-ilate and the uvula, with a retraction of tjye ol an IDPI), exposing to view, when the mouth was opftted, the inside of the posterior parts of the nostril-. The principle on which the operation was per- formed was Ihe same MS for hare lit,-viz. by removing she eXirellle edges, and bringing the wounded pariq into co(Itact hut, a* may be ensity imagined from the nature ol she case, the mechanical difficulties made a variety of precautions necessary. It was found imprac- ticable to effect ilit- union of all the ilivided parts at one time, aud the whole union was finaHy ef- fected after five operations. Mr. Alcock consi- ders the scissors with extremely ftito edge*, at recomffleoded for surgical purposes by Dr. Wot* laiton, to he the best instrument for the removal of the inner edges. in the first four stages eff- the operation, the edges were brought together by s'utiires, in the latter, by pins. The voice of the paiteaf before the operation was strikingly nasal, and his articulation s:) indistinct that he had tert giving U/I att-a'tmntagevos tri- !oatioJ'. in wbich he* w.u reqllire(1 CO converse? t with strangers. Arter the o[>erarioo, his utter- ance, wheu careful, was perfectly distinct and free from any obvious peculiarity. Mr Afcoelr observes, that in (!afei or clt!ft III,- litit or pr ncipal cause of indistinctness of utterance is he physical defect which admits ihe air too freely into the nosuilg, a,)(J ,hat (jelecl js re. inowed hy uoion ot the palate; but anottiei cause is lie a it ot oof plating the fit) of the tongue proper y at the root of Ihe t'tont feelh in such union* f8S» "j.1'1' ka(i ,his babif, alter the ° the divided palate, attention.is required ) ocounterant. Mr. teroux, in France, has per- e# a similar operation to ihe one noticed a ove we do not know whether before or siace the one-Mr-A.er.ck has described. HORSE-RAC1N(J J,, ITALY,_IN Mr. Macgill'S avels, published m I80S, the following singu- tar method ofbore'rac'lOg hi Italy is recorded; The horses run without riders, aud (o ufgti em on, little balls with, sharp points in them are long to their sides, which, wheo the horse is employed io the race, ace like spurs. They have also a p.ece of tinfoil fastened on iheir hinder parrs. wb>ph, as the animals rash through I the air, make a loud rustling noise, and frigh'eo I them forward. I was much amused with the horse races at AAkeona. A goti is fi ed when they Ers-I start, that preparaiioos'may be made to re- reive them at the further end; when they have run hal way, another gull is fire'd, and the third when they arrive at the gaol.—'Fo ascertain with, out dispatel, wins the race, across the WIO- otttg post a thread is stretehed, dipped in red lead which the victor breaking, it leaves a red ntaFk^on-bis chest, aod this mark is decisive.— The iirst race was declared unfair, as one horses had started before the rest; and the Governor ordered another to he run the following evening." What follows will very property r'tcite contempt, as it respects the effeminacy of tVe Roman sol- diers at that period, To guard the course, a great number of Roman soldiers, under arms* were ranged on each side of it, from one end ta the other. The m.iirning after the first race, tha wind blew from the lIorth, and was rather cold. I was si.Uing with his Excellency the Governor, Signor Vodoni, when a messenger arrived £ rota the Getiral, with his compliments, requesting that the race might be deferred till another day, as he thought the tvealber too eold to put his troops under arms. The Governor replied to him, lhat as the weather was not too cpld /ot" the Itifiiwj He thought it was not too much so for Roman soldiers.' t have seen on a day which only threatened rain, a guard of Romans turn out, every one of which hjui art umbrella under his arin, the drummer and filer alone excepted."—Vol. 1» p. 22, 24. --L_ PRINTED 2$TUfSLISfJBD by C B HOSIER AT BTNGOR, CAIINARYONSHITTE. 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