Hiftorical ANECDOTE of a remarkable DUE L.

THE

HE fame of an English dog has been deservedly transmitted to pofterity by a monument in baffo relievo, which ftill remains on the chimney-piece of the grand hall at the `castle of Montargis, in France: the sculpture represents a dog fighting with a champion, and was occafioned by the following circumftance.

Aubri de Mondidier, a gentleman of family and fortune, travelling alone through the foreft of Bondi, was murdered, and buried under a tree. His dog, an English blood-hound, would not quit his master's grave for feveral days, till at length, compelled by hunger, he went to the house of an intimate friend of the unfortunate Aubri's, at Paris, and by his melancholy howling, seemed defirous of exprefling the lofs they had both fuftained. He repeated his cries, ran to the door, then looked back to fee if any one followed him, returned to his master's friend, pulled him by the fleeve, and with dumb eloquence entreated him to go with him.

The fingularity of all the actions of the dog; his coming there without his mafler, whofe faithful companion he always had been; the sudden disappearance of his master; and perhaps, that divine dispensation of justice and events, which will not permit the guilty to remain long undetected; made the company refolve to follow the dog, who conducted them to the tree, where he renewed his howl, fcratching the earth with his feet, to fignify that that was the fpot they fhould fearch. Accordingly, on digging, the body of the unfortunate Aubri was found.

Some time after, the dog accidently met the affaffin, who is filed, by all hiftorians that relate this fact, the Chevalier Macaire; when inftantly feizing him by the throat, it was with great difficulty he was made to quit his prey.

Whenever

Whenever he faw him after, the dog purfued and attacked him with equal fury. Such obftinate virulence in the animal, confined only to Macaire, appeared extraordinary to thofe perfons who recollected the dog's fondness for his master, and at the fame time feveral inftances wherein Macaire had dif played his envy and hatred to Aubri de Mondidier.

Additional circumstances increased fufpicion, which at length reached the royal ear. The king (Lewis VIII.) sent for the dog. He appeared extremely gentle, till perceiving Macaire in the midst of twenty noblemen, he ran directly towards him, growled, and flew at him as ufual.

In those times, when no pofitive proof of a crime could be procured, an order was iffued for a combat between the accufer and accused. These were denominated the judgment of God, from a perfuafion that heaven would fooner work a miracle, than fuffer innocence to perish with infamy.

The king, ftruck with fuch a collection of circumftantial evidence against Macaire, determined to refer the decifion to the chance of war, or in other words, he gave orders for a combat between the Chevalier and the dog. The lifts were appointed in the aifle of Notre Dame, then an uninclosed, unin habited place: Macaire's weapon was a great cudgel.

The dog had an empty cask allowed for his retreat, to recover breath. The combatants being ready, the dog no fooner found himself at liberty, than he ran round his adversary, avoiding his blows, menacing him on every fide, till his ftrength was exhaufted; then springing forward, he griped him by the throat, threw him on the ground, and forced him to confess his crime before the king and the whole court. In confequence of which the Chevalier, after a few days, was convicted upon his own acknowledgment, and beheaded on a scaffold in the aiíle of Notre Dame.

The above curious recital is tranflated from the Memoires fur les Duels, and is confirmed by many judicious, critical writers, particularly Julius Scaliger, and Montfaucon, neither of them relators of fabulous ftories,

Anecdote

ANECDOTE of CASIMER fecond KING of POLAND.

WHILE

HILE Cafimer was Prince of Sandamir, he won at play all the money of one of his Nobility, who, incenfed at his ill fortune, ftruck the Prince a blow on the ear, in the heat of paffion. He fled immediately from juftice; but being purfued and overtaken, was condemned to lofe his head; but the generous Cafimer determined otherwife. "I am not furprised, said he, at the Gentleman's conduct; for, not having it in his power to revenge himself on fortune, no wonder he fhould attack her favourite." After which he revoked the fentence, returned the Nobleman his money, and declared that he alone was faulty, as he encouraged by his example a pernicious practice, that might terminate in the ruin of hundreds of the people.

An Anfwer to a Correfpondent in CORNWALL.

WITH refpect to the account of a fire-damp in a Tin

WITH
Mine in Cornwall, publifhed in our Magazine for

November laft; we can only fay that it was found among
many other
papers, which were delivered some years ago by
Mr. Wefley to the person who then corrected the prefs under
his directions. We fuppofe, Mr. Wefley got it from some
of his correspondents in Cornwall, and that he believed the
fact well authenticated. We beg leave further to inform our
readers in general, that many of the materials now printing,
and which will be inferted in our Magazine for fome years to
come, were collected by Mr. Wesley, or tranfmitted to him
from his numerous correfpondents.

The EDITORS.

LETTERS.

L E

TTER S.

LETTER DLXXXVIII.

[From Mifs E. Ritchie, to the Rev. J. Wesley.]

Rev. Sir,

MANY

Otley, Sept. 2, 1784.

ANY thanks to my ever dear and Reverend father for his welcome and truly profitable letter. The language "What I know not teach of heart to God and man is, my me," and glory be unto his name, I hear my Saviour's voice by his Spirit, his word, and through his fervants. Some weeks ago, while waiting upon my Lord for direction, refpecting what lay before me, that word was given me from above, “I will guide thee by mine eye." My foul embraced it by faith, and has fince found fuch nearnefs to my Lord, and intimate communion with him as is inexpreffible. Never did I feel a ftronger defire to do and fuffer all my mafler's will. O that my power was adequate to my will! I may fay with Gambold, in regard to the degree,

"Practice grovels far behind."

My manifold weaknesses tie me down: 'tis true I feel that faith in my precious Lord which bringeth conflant victory, and a measure of that love which is the fulfilling of the law. What I fee before me draws out my foul in ftrong defire, more deeply to fink into the unbounded ocean. My life is but in embryo: "when I awake up after thy likeness, I fhall be fatisfied therewith." Let me more fully behold thy transforming glory, O my God and king!

At fome of my feasons of nearest approach to the mercyfeat, I have lately had peculiar power and freedom in prayer

for

for you. My dear Sir, your welfare both in public and private life lies near my heart. My spirit longs for you, as the father of a people, whom God has graciously given you, to increase in comfort and usefulness to your latest moment. As a private christian, may you be filled with a plenitude of God, and continually anticipate glory, by dwelling beneath the directeft ray of that Sun, whofe blessed beams diftil a Gilead's balm! This morning I felt much power in prayer, respecting the intended voyage of our friends. They embark on a bleffed errand. The angel of the Lord's prefence will accompany them, I trust, and give them power to ferve the royal heirs of heaven. Continue to remember and pray for, my dear Sir, your truly affectionate though unworthy child,

E. R.

LETTER

DLXXXIX.

[From Mrs. Ann Joyce, to the Rev. J. Welley.]

Rev. and very dear Sir,

YOUR

Caribb boundaries, Oct. 31, 1788.

UR valuable favour dated July 17th. I received, for which I give you my hearty thanks. Bleffed be God, who put it into your heart to be mindful of unworthy me in a' foreign country. Your letter was truly a word in feafon. My foul was in great need of encouragement, and the Lord made it as a refreshing draught indeed. I was enabled to lay hold on the promises you mentioned. And bleffed be God, I have not fince let them go.

It requires an abler pen than mine, rightly to inform you of matters in this Ifland, I mean as to expences, fituation, and produce thereof; therefore I will let these things rest, and in my fimple manner tell you all I can of myfelf. By the grace of God I am what I am; but how unlike Him I feel, when I confider how much I cleave to earth, and how little I glorify God.

VOL. XV.

Ff

I came