a

would have despised a Demosthenes, or a Cicero, with all their rhetorical flourishes, if their oratorian gowns had been in pledge. Well! what was, to be done? The whole family in confusion, and at their wits' end. Disgrace, with her glaring eyes, and extended mouth, ready to devour. At last Winny, his wife, putting on a composed countenance, but, alas, with a troubled heart, stepped to neighbouring tavern, and bespoke a very hot negus, to comfort Johnny in the great part he was to perform that night; begging to have it in a silver tankard, with a lid, because, as she said, that would retain the heat longer than any other metal. Her request was complied with the negus carried piping hot to the playhouse; and being popped into a vile earthern mug, the silver tankard was put into the pawnbroker's hauds, in exchange for the suit. At the conclusion of the play, the wardrobe was carried back to its old depository-the tankard return ed the right road, and thus all end

ed to Thurmond's satisfaction."

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five in the afternoon I will have tarts and jellies, and a gallon bowl of punch at ten, a hot supper of two dishes. If I am in good humour, and Grace behaves herself, she shall sit down with me.-To bed about twelve."

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Jabal must be patient; we have many pieces lying by us for insertion, which have been on hand much longer than his; the article, however, shall certainly appear. Communications, possessing any merit, though frequently in appearance neglected, always receive due attention eventually, as many of our Correspondents will have perceived during the last few weeks. We hope this explana tion will be accepted as a sufficient apo logy by various impatient contributors, who have urged us to expedite the insertion of their productions. G. Ripon is a sad dog, but we will endeavour to make use of his effusions, after extracting the poison of indelicacy which occasionally debases them. We hope to hear no more of such vulgar abuse as we have expe rienced from Leporello. We hardly know what to say in reply to Susan's enquiry about the series of "GhostStories;" so many correspondents objected to the subject, that we resolved upon discontinuing it altogether; but we confess that we have found ourselves placed exactly in the situation of the Old Man and his Ass,-in endeavouring to gratify one party we have offended the ciliate both? G. S. W's "Poems," are other what can we possibly do to conplaced on the file to take their turn for insertion. We hope Pangloss will perform his promise punctually and speediy. A letter directed solely for the Editor, is returned to the Post-Office.

ERRATA.-P. 268, col. 2, read

" re

sumed at p. 347."—P. 336, col. 2, line

40, read "the sun,"

RECEIVED Hydra, 1. 2. 7., Fallowfield, G. P., Rozello, A. Young, Ali Pacha, Giles, Te-to-tum, Brown Bess, Highflyer, L. L. D., Amen, and J. P.

REJECTED. Humphrey Short's "Acrostic." T. P., and Cui Bono?

a cord to one side of the room, and the other arm to the other side; and his legs shall be served in like manner. Then shall be laid upon his body as much iron and stone as he can bear, and more. And the first day after, he shall have three morsels of barleybread, without any drink and the second day, he shall be allowed to drink as much as he can at three times of the water that is next the prisondoor, except running water, without any bread; and this shall be his diet till he dies. And he against whom this judgment shall be given, forfeits his goods to the king.'

This brutal sentence having been pronounced, Spiggott was taken back to Newgate, and bore 350 pounds' weight on his breast for half an hour without complaint; but 50 more being added, he was unable to endure the pressure, and therefore prayed that he might be released, and taken back to plead. The court granted him this indulgence, though the strict letter of the law forbade it, and sentence of death was passed in the usual manner. Spiggott appears to have been of a most obdurate nature, for on his way to the place of execution, he told the ordinary that he had never shed a tear but once in his life, and that was when he took leave of his wife and children in Newgate. He and Phillips were hung at Tyburn, 8th February, 1721. Lindsay the clergyman, who had been admitted as King's evidence, received a pardon; and Burroughs the lunatic was confined for life in Bedlam.

A DESERTED MANSION. MR. ARCHER, a gentleman of about 10,0001. per annum, chiefly landed property in Berkshire, and partly in Essex, died some years ago, and left a very large fortune, great part of which he gave to his wife, but the bulk went to his daughters by a former marriage. Mr. Archer was a singular character-possessed of a princely fortune, with the controuling influence in Berkshire, for which he might at any time have been returned

to Parliament, if he chose; he lived in great retirement with his wife, a lady whose character we shall not examiné, observing only, that she did not mix with society. Mr. Archer had a noble mansion in Berkshire, where he kept up a suitable establishment, and where his daughters lived, but he never resided there himself. He occupied a less ostentatious house in the neighbourhood, almost wholly confining himself to the society of his wife. And yet he was a social pleasant companion over the bottle, and usually drove out in a coach and six, with out-riders.

He frequently visited Bristol Hotwells, but never mixed in company. Besides his house in Berkshire, he had a fine mansion on his beautiful estate of Coopersale, near Epping. But this house had been deserted for 20 years or more, no one being allowed to reside in it. On the death of Mr. Archer, it fell to the lot of his daughter, the elegant Mrs. Houblon, who, a few weeks after, sent a surveyor to examine the house. His report was curious. Neither the gates of the court-yard, or the doors of the mansion-house, had been opened for the period of eighteen years. The latter, by order, were covered with plates of iron. The court-yard was crowded with thistles, docks, and weeds; and the inner hall with cobwebs. The rooks and jack-daws had built their nests in the chimnies, and the solemn bird of night had taken possession of the principal drawingroom. Several of the rooms had not been opened for 25 years. The pigeons had, for the space of near twenty years, built their nests in the library (which contained some thousand books), having made a lodgment, through the means of an aperture in the casement. The pond in the garden contained an immense quantity of fish of extraordinary size. A strict injunction was also laid on the bailiff and gardener, not to destroy any of the weeds about the grounds, till this extraordinary wilderness had been inspected by the relatives of the deceased.

.

THE MANIAC.

IT is impossible to conceive that any mental suffering arising from fear could exceed that experienced by the traveller whose adventure is the subject of this article. There was no illusion in it, all was real: yet in him the horror of a supernatural enemy superseded all dread of a mortal assassin, which his midnight intruder might have been supposed to have proved. Monsieur de Conange, on a wandering excursion which he was making with a friend through the French provinces, found it necessary one night to take refuge from a storm, in an inn which had little else to recommend it but that the host was well known to Monsieur de Conange. This man had all the inclination in the world to accommodate the travellers to their satisfaction, but unfortunately he possessed not the power. The situation was desolate, and the few chambers the house contained were already occupied by other travellers. There remained unengaged only a single parlour on the ground floor, with a closet adjoining, with which, inconvenient as they were, Monsieur de Conange and his friend were obliged to content themselves. The closet was prepared with a very uninviting bed for the latter, while they supped together in the parlour, where it was decided Monsieur de Conange was to sleep. As they purposed departing very early in the morning, they soon retired to their separate beds, and ere long fell into a profound sleep. Short, however, had been Monsieur de Conange's repose, when he was disturbed by the voice of his fellow traveller, crying out that something was strangling him!Though he heard his friend speak to him, he could not for some time sufficiently rouse himself from his drowsiness to awaken to a full sense of the words his friend had uttered. That it was in a voice of distress he now perfectly understood, and he called anxiously to enquire what was the matter-no answer was returned, no sound was heard-all was still as death! Now seriously alarmed, Mon

sieur de Conange threw himself out of bed, and taking up his candle, proceeded to the closet. What was his horror and astonishment when he beheld his friend lying senseless beneath the strangling grasp of a dead man loaded with chains! The cries of distress which this dreadful sight called forth soon brought the host to his assistance, whose fear and astonishment acquitted him of being in any way an actor in the tragic scene before them. It was, however, a more pressing duty to endeavour to recover the senseless traveller, than to unravel the mysterious event which had reduced him to that state. The barber of the village was therefore immediately sent for; and in the mean time they extricated the traveller from the grasp of the man, whose hand had in death closed on his throat with a force which rendered it difficult to unclench. While performing this, they happily ascertained that the spark of life still faintly glowed in the heart of the traveller, although wholly fled from that of his assaulter. The operation of bleeding, which the barber now arrived to perform, gave that spark new vigour, and he was shortly put to bed out of danger, and left to all that could now be of service to him-repose.

Monsieur de Conange then felt himself at liberty to satisfy his curiosity in developing the cause of this strange adventure, which was quickly effected by his host. This man informed him that the deceased was his groom, who had within a few days exhibited such strong proofs of mental derangement, as to render it absolutely necessary to use coercive measures to prevent his either doing mischief to himself or others, and that he had in consequence been confined and chained in the stables; but that it was evident his fetters had proved too weak to resist the strength of frenzy, and that in liberating himself, he had passed through a little door, imprudently left unlocked, which led from the saddle room into the closet in which the traveller slept, and had entered it to die with such frightful effects upon his bed.

When in the course of a few days Monsieur de Conange's friend was - able to converse, he acknowledged that never in his life had he suffered so much, and that he was confident, had he not fainted, madness must have been the consequence of a prolonged state of terror.

Interesting Varieties.

WEDLOCK.

RIED COUPLES IN LARGE 80

CIETIES OR IN PUBLIC.

1. If you see a gentleman and lady disagree upon trifling occasions, or correcting each other in company, you may be assured they have tied the matrimonial noose: or

2. If you see a silent pair in a hackney or any other coach, lolling carelessly, one at each window, without seeming to know they have a companion, the sign is infallible: or

3. If you see a lady drop her glove, and a gentleman by the side of her kindly telling her to pick it up, you need not hesitate in forming your opinion: or

4. If you see a lady presenting a gentleman with any thing carelessly, her head inclined another way, and speaking with indifference: or

5. If you meet a couple in the fields, the gentleman twenty yards in advance of the lady, who perhaps is getting over a stile with difficulty, or picking her way through a muddy path or

6. If you see a lady, whose beauty and accomplishments attract the at tention of every gentleman in the room but one, you can have no difficulty in determining their relationship to each other that one is her husband: or

7. If you see a gentleman particularly courteous, obliging, and good natured, relaxing into smiles, saying smart things, and toying with every pretty woman in the room, excepting one, to whom he appears particularly reserved, cold, and formal, and is un

The rules above quoted are laid down as infallible. In just interpretation, they may be resorted to with confidence; they are upon unerring principles, and deduced from every day's experience.

་

RESTITUTION.

IN 1814, when the allied troops occu pied the Bressan, five of their officers entered a chateau, the owner of which was absent. His servants gave them some refreshments. In the mean time the master of the house arrived, and after apologising to his guests for their not having met with a reception suitable to their rank, invited them to a splendid dinner. Some excellent wine being served up, one of the officers asked the master of the house whether that was the best in his cellar. The latter replied without hesitation, it was. 'I am, however, convinced," replied the officer, "that you have still better." This incredulity dis pleased: he was invited to visit the cellar, and accepted the offer. The officer asked for a pick-axe, removed some casks, struck against the wall, and an opening soon appeared, which led into a small secret cellar, where were concealed several casks of wine of the highest value. "Did I not tell you, sir," said the officer, "that there was better wine in your cellar than that which you gave us at dinner?" "Sir," replied the owner of the cellar, "I give you my word of honour that I had no knowledge of this secret place. I purchased this chateau without having any suspicion