derous treason of the Cato-street conspirators, and a Thurtell or a Fauntleroy have but been the criminal heroes of a day.

With regard to those whose depravities are more venial,or are only chargeable with follies, they are very shortlived; and Mrs. Clarke, William Wellesley Pole, Mr. Kean, Mr. Hughes Ball, the Princess Olive, Mr. Hayne, Mrs. Coutts, Ex-Sheriff Parkins, and Miss Foote, though all, in their day and generation, furnishing food for town-talk and newspaper gossip, are now no longer thought of, but have given way to the French giant, the calculating boy, the learned pig, or any other wonder presenting the attraction of novelty.

Even the appalling murder, a short time back, by Pollard, has thrown in the shade a host of topics, which would otherwise have engrossed the public attention, and no one knows to what point or on what subject it may next be directed.

We know not whether we may have to lament the fall or rejoice in the triumph of Greece; whether Spain, sunk in the abyss of misery, may remain ten years the scoff of the world, or shake off her odious yoke, or whether a murder or an elopement shall form the topic of tomorrow's conversations, no man, not even Mr. Varley, the eminent painter and astrologer, can foretell.

MIXTURES NOT ALWAYS
SALUTARY.

The father of the present Sir R. Musgrave (of enthusiastic eminence) invited to dine at his house the clergy of his diocese on the day when they had attended a visitation of their diocecian, at his parish-church. The knight gave them a splendid dinner, and after the cloth was removed he named his wines, a pretty numerous catalogue, and desired each

gentleman to chuse which he would drink, claret, Burgundy, hock, &c. Each accordingly named his favourite wine.

The butler, by previous instructions, placed a huge china punchbowl on the table, bottles of the different wines were immediately uncorked, and by the knight's order promiscuously poured into the common reservoir.

The clergy stared at each other; the knight they knew was whimsical. He desired them to fill their glasses, assuring them that the wines were all very good and he hoped not the worse for being all united in one' sect. The reverend guests filled their glasses, the King and the Church,' was the toast. They sipped, and sipped again; but each seemed to nauseate the mixture.The knight observed their embarrassment, and addressed them thus:

Gentlemen, I observe you don't like the wine. Each of you chose your particular favourite, but now that they are thrown into common stock, not one of you seems to like it; and yet I can't conceive how you should disapprove a mixture so like yourselves.' 'Like ourselves,' answered a reverend divine, 'how can that be? Why,' replied the host, the clergy of this diocese taken separately, are most agreeable gentlemen, and there is not one of them with whom I could not cheer. fully spend my days; but when united together, they compose the most discordant and disgusting medley of mankind to be found anywhere.'

464

the bail as to his having a prisoner in the Gloucester jail. Thus instructed, our learned advocate boldly asked.When, sir, were you last in Gloucester. jail?' The bail, a reputable tradesman, with astonishment declared, that he never was in a jail in his life. Mr. Baldwin insisted that he had been a prisoner at Gloucester: but, being able to get nothing out of him, he turned round to his friendly brother, and asked for what the man had been imprisoned. The answer was, For suicide! Without hesitation he then questioned him thus:- Now, sir, I ask you, upon your oath, and remember that I shall have your words taken down, was you not imprisoned in Gloucester jail for the crime of suicide?'

Origina Woetry.

Respectfully inscribed to MISS BROAD, Hornsey.

I will meet thee, love, when the stars are bright.

And lie like gems on the breast of night:
When all around is clear and calm,
With nought to frighten or alarm;
When the moon is rising, and the trees
Are gently waved by the evening breeze.

Ah! me, what extacy of bliss

To stand on Love's summit of happiness!
Oh! how will mine eye and ear rejoice,
To see thee, and to list thy voice;
And all will be vanished of pain and woe-
"Twill be Love's Paradise below!
Cornwall Place,
Holloway.

To

J. F.

Hast thou strung the lute again,
That the song might cheer thy soul?
And striven 'gainst the flood of pain,

That would o'er thee its waters roll?

Hast thou tried the grape's sweet juice,
To lighten thy brow of care?
Or does that sullen grief refuse
To leave its dwelling there?

Hath the song no charm for thee?

And sinkest thou 'neath sorrow's wave?

be

thine,

L. F.

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came twice among them; and while they were in that discourse, which they expressed by the term lopping, 'he told them he had a farm near Hoddesden, in the way to Newmarket, and that there was a moat round his house, through which the king always passed in his way thither. Once the coach went thro' alone, without any of the guards about it; and if he had laid any thing across the way, to have stopped the coach but for a minute, he could have shot them both, and rode away through grounds that he knew so well, that it should not have been possible to follow him.

These circumstances having been mentioned to an associate, an Anabaptist, named Keeling, were by him communicated to the government, and became the subject of judicial inquiry. West, a creature, of Lord Shaftesbury, and Rumsey, an ex-officer of Cromwell, swore that Rumbold had offered his house on the heath for the purpose of assassinating the king and the duke, and that forty men, well armed and mounted, were to wait there, one half of them to stop the king's coach, and the other half to effect the murder. This tale being interwoven with the meetings held by the protestant lords, who had firmly supported the bill for excluding the Duke of York from the succession to the throne, was ar fully employed by the court to effect the destruction of our immortal patriots Russell and Sydney; though not the smallest proof was offered that either of them had been present during the important conversation from which the plot was deduced. In connection, however, with this, was the design of seizing the king's guards, and promoting a general insurrection! and the earl of Essex, being also implicated, was seized and sent to the Tower, where he committed suicide on the very day that lord Russell was tried at the

Old Bailey; an event that was maliciously stated to the jury, for the purpose of influencing their decision.

Lord Russell was beheaded in Lincoln's-inn-fields, and shortly afterwards the gallant Sydney bled upon Tower-hill.

One Walcot, stated by Rumsey and West to have been appointed leader of the troop at the Rye House, had previously suffered, with Rumbold and others, who had been sworn to as engaged in the conspiracy. Whether these persons deserved their fate or not, the execution of Russell and Sydney were murders of the blackest die, committed under the semblance of law, but in direct violation of every principle of liberty and justice. King Charles told his son, the duke of Monmouth, that he was inclined to save lord Russell, but was forced to consent to his death, otherwise he must have broke with his brother the duke of York. James experienced a bitter retribution. When he was subsequently on the point of being driven from the throne by the just indignation of the people, he applied to the earl of Bedford (father of lord Russell) for assistance. The earl replied, I am an infirm old man ; but I once had a son who might have faithfully and loyally served you.'

The Rye House was originally built in the reign of Henry the sixth. Our engraving, from a drawing taken on the spot, represents the building as it now stands. It has for many years been converted into a workhouse for the poor of Stansted parish.

EFFECTS OF CHAMPAGNE.
(For the Portfolio.)

Poor Tom, one day, with pain roar'd out,
And swore no pain was like the gout ;-

Sent for the doctor quickly. Who, when he came, laughed in his face, And felt no pity for his case.

'Twas only Cham-pagne, strictly.

W. H. H.