unmerited desertion and unkindness supported by conscious rectitude, compared with the degraded guilt, the hopeless anguish, that I then saw !

"I regret to say, I was last month nigh committing manslaughter; I broke down in the Strand, and dislocated the shoulder of a rich old maid. I cannot help think ing that she deserved the visitation, for, as she stepped into me in Oxford Street, she exclaimed, loud enough to be heard by all neighbouring pedestrians, Dear me! how dirty! I never was in a hack ney conveyance before!'-though I well remembered having been favoured with her company very often. A medical man happened to be passing at the moment of our fall; it was my old medical master. He set the shoulder, and so skilfully did he manage his patient, that he is about to be married to the rich in valid, who will shoulder him into prosperity at last.

I last night was the bearer of a real party of pleasure to Astley's a bride and bridegroom, with the mother of the bride. It was the widow of the old rector, whose thin daughter (by the by she is fattening fast,) has had the luck to marry the only son of a merchant well to do in the world." T

The voice suddenly ceased!-I awoke -the door was opened, the steps let down-I paid the coachman double the amount of his fare, and in future, whenever I stand in need of a jarvey, I shall certainly make a point of calling for number One Hundred. New Mon.

The Note Book.

THE DEATH OF WALLACE.

The fate of this formidable hero, when he fell by treachery into the hands of the English,(says Mr. Tytler, in his new History of Scotland) as was to be expected, was soon decided; but the circumstances of refined cruelty and torment which attended his execution, reflect an indelible stain upon the character of Edward, and, were they not stated by the Eng lish historians themselves, could scarcely be believed. Having been carried to London, he was brought with great pomp to Westminster Hall, and there arraigned of treason. A crown of laurel was in mockery placed on his head, because Wallace had been heard to boast that he deserved to wear a crown in that hall. Sir Peter Mallorie, the king's justice, then impeached him as a traitor to the King of England, as having burnt the villages and abbeys, stormed the castles, and miserably slain and tortured the liege

subjects of his master the king. Wallace indignantly and truly repelled the charge of treason, as he never had sworn fealty to Edward; but to the other articles of accusation he pleaded no defence; they were notorious, and he was condemned to death. Discrowned and chained, he was now dragged at the tails of horses through the streets, to the foot of a high gallows, placed at the elms in Smithfield. After being hanged, but not to death, he was cut down yet breathing, his bowels taken out, and burnt before his face. His head was then struck off, and his body divided into four quarters. His head was placed on a pole on London Bridge, his right arm above the bridge at Newcastle, his left arm was sent to Berwick, his right foot and limb to Perth, and his left quarter to Aberdeen. These,' says an old English historian, were the trophies of their favourite hero, which the Scots had now to contemplate, instead of his banners and gonfanons, which they had once proudly followed.' But he might have added, that they were trophies far more glorious than the richest banner that had ever been borne before him."

Composition and Punctuation familiarly explained for those who have neglected the study of Grammar, by Justin Brenan, pp. 144. Effingham Wilson, Royal Exchange.

£

This is a useful little book, and though we dissent from its author in some particulars, we have no hesitation in saying that it will be found of great practical utility. We may justly repeat what the old poet said three centuries ago

Some take upon them translacions to wryte, Some to compyle bokys for theyr delyte; But in our Englysh tong for to speke playn, I rede but of few have taken any grete payn.'

And truly there are many who would blush to own that they had never studied French, while they would at the same time speak and write the most barbarous English; indeed there are none who, (to use Falstaff's words) "make fritters of the king's English," so often as your dabblers in languages.

The author justly disclaims against long sentences, and says, this is the bane of ordinary writing, and, until we can find an antidote, we may despair of being read with pleasure, or even with common patience. Our work, whatever it be, is soon thrown aside. People do not like to wade through long-winded sentences-they will not take the trouble of connecting their various members, so as to arrive at the sense. The consequence is, that all those efforts at clear

ness, operate as fatally as obscurity, except in a letter or law-document, which our interest may compel us to read."

He is not, however, so clear upon the the subject of the dash, which we shall always consider as a mark of slovenli ness on the part of the writer who uses it. The following observations evince good sense and reflect great credit upon the author,

"You can never expect to write well, or with spirit, if you have a poor notion of our language. Let no one persuade you, that it is inferior to others, in every respect. Our little conjugators express the most minute shades and distinctions -sometimes to a nicety that even the Greek or Latin, with all their pompous terminations, cannot approach. Those classical tongues, and all others, are compelled to say, Will I give John the horse? unless they turn it otherwise by, Are you willing that I should give? No language in the world, except your own, has the beautiful and singularly expressive shall.'

In taking leave of this work we heartily wish it the success it deservedly merits. Its price renders it attainable to all classes.

For the Olio.

N.N.

the picture, the artist observed that the young Chinese (Ching Fou) had paid the most marked attention to his performance, which when finished he inquired of Ching if he thought it like, and what, in his opinion, would improve it? After a long and minute examination, Ching exclaimed, " Vera like Massa Jones, butMassa Jones is no black on one side of face; and under him nose, no like Massa dere." Most persons at all acquainted with the fine arts, must have observed, with regret, that the Chinese never introduce light and shade into their otherwise clever drawings. Perspective and shadow seem to be two things that a Chinese artist never saw or heard of. The painter, willing to convince Ching, if it were possible to convince so prejudiced a person, partially closed the window, and requested his late sitter to again take his place. Then turning to Ching, he said, "Do you not see the shade in the side of Mr. Jones's face?" After considering some time, and being unable to deny so evident a fact, poor Ching evaded it, and with his accustomed national shrewdness, he exclaimed, "Ah! Massa, him is no so in my country, no so in China." This was an argument incontrovertible to an English artist, as he could not easily visit China to prove it, and no words he could adduce was sufficiently convincing to so the sun to cast his shadow in his native prejudiced a person, who would not allow land the same as in England. fairly be called prejudice personified.

GENEROUS REASONING.

This may

J

Atheism was first, taught in France by Lucilio Vanini, a Neapolitan gentleman, who was convicted and condemned to suffer death. When he was brought out to the place of execution, he was pressed to ask pardon of God, of the king, and of justice. He answered, he did not believe there was a God; as for the king, he had never offended him; and with respect to justice, it might go to the devil. His tongue was first cut out, and then his body burned to ashes, April 9th, 1629.

N.N.

Ellustrated Article.

HENKERWYSSEL'S CHALLENGE.

I

A TALE OF DORDT.
From the Journal of a Traveller.

I HAVE never been in Dordt; and yet I seem to have in my mind's eye all its principal features: its canals, its quays, its quaint old cathedral, and formal municipal edifices; as though I had been a resident there. Most especially do. I know an old narrow house near the bridge, on the right hand of the great canal; and it is to this that my first visit shall be paid, if ever I sail down the Maes. It is asserted, on competent authority, that the Devil is to be seen there, at stated periods..

I cannot easily say how the first communication of this fact consoled and refreshed me. For I am a steady believer in the faith of the good, old, trustful times; and do hold as gospel, the wholesome histories delivered by that founder of our creed, Dr. Luther, in his Tischreden, or Table-talk, and by other weighty autho21-VOL. IV.

Y

rities, respecting Satanic incarnations ;a belief sorely combated by the sceptical moderns. I will relate the manner of my introduction to the above interesting instance, for my own especial oblectation, and to the strengthening of my fellowbelievers; if, indeed, there yet survive any such.

was at Boulogne in the autumn of 17-; living in a retired manner, and not mixing much with the members of the table d'hote; the rather, that my temper, naturally testy, had been rendered unusually irritable by recent vexations. There was, however, one of the company, a middle aged Dutchman, towards whom I felt strongly attracted. He was, like myself, a man of sparing conversation and solitary habits, and an exemplary smoker withal. But what entirely won my heart, was his profound conviction of the authenticity of all recorded narrations of ghosts,- fire, water, and land spirits, and of the bodily presence of Beelzebub,-not to speak of witches, mermaids, and wild huntsmen. This I discovered by chance. Walking one evening on the Boulevards, I ob

105

served him seated, with his never-failing pipe, engaged in the perusal of a promising looking volume. I ventured, upon the strength of a slight acquaintance, to enquire the subject of his studies, and was delighted to learn that the worthy man was a reader, and a believer, of that precious ancient, Gervasius Tilburiensis. We were friends in an instant. Before five minutes had elapsed, we were deeply engaged in reciprocal lamentations over the extinction of the pious creed, so worthily set forth in the pages of the venerable chronicler; accompanied with pen sive exhalations from our meerschaums. "Woeful it is, truly though not, indeed, surprising," said I, "for this incredulous age rejects the evidence of past worthies, and insists, presumptuously, upon ocular proof."

"It is not proof they lack," ejaculated my companion, they would dispute facts as notorious as the Reformation; ay, were they to happen under their very eyes."

Alas, worthy sir, even these are no longer afforded us the spirit of unbelief has laid all others-the very exis

tence of Lucifer himself is doubted in these perilous times!"

Say you so?" replied my Dutch friend, with extraordinary vivacity,"what, when he hath been abroad like a raging lion and there are yet living those who have seen him in bodily presence?"

"How-where-when ?" I eagerly enquired-and the old gentleman, knocking the ashes out of his fourth pipe, indulged my curiosity with the following narrative, ere he ventured to replenish it.

*It is not twenty years since one Hans Henkerwyssel, a stranger, arrived in my native city of Dordt, and bought a fair house overlooking the Great Canal, over against the hanging Bridge. He was middle-aged and robust, and seemed to have been a sea-faring man; while, from the situation of his purchase, and the manner of his living, he was conjectured to have wealth. He soon made himself acquaintances in the neighbourhood; but they were principally amongst the wilder and more dissolute of the inhabitants; indeed, the violence of his manners, and