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hell, I should not have come hither." "No," said St. Peter; "You don't come in here."-" Well, if you wont let me in, take your dirty knapsack again; I'll have nothing that can put me in mind of you," said Merry, carelessly. "Then give it to me,' said St. Peter. The he handed it through the grating into heaven, and St. Peter took it, and hung it up behind his chair. "Then," said Brother Merry, "Now I wish I was in my own knapsack,"-and instantly he was there; and thus being once actually in heaven, St. Peter was obliged to let him stay there.

saw what they were eating, she said to her good man,
Those two men are eating a goose, you had better see
whether it is not one of ours out of the oven." The host
opened the oven, and lo! it was empty.
"Oh, you
pack of thieves!-this is the way you eat geese, is it?-
pay for them directly, or I will wash you both with green
hazel-juice." The men said, we are not thieves: an
old soldier whom we met on our road made us a present
of the goose."-"You are not going to hoax me that
way the soldier has been here, but went out of the
door like an honest fellow-I took care of that,-you
are the thieves and you shall pay for the geese." But,
as they had no money to pay him with, he took a stick
and beat them out of doors.

Meanwhile, as Brother Merry journeyed along, he came to a place where there was a noble castle, and not far from it a little public house. Into this he went and asked for a night's lodging, but the landlord said his house was full of guests, and he could not accommodate him. "I wonder," said Brother Merry, "that the people should all come to you, instead of going to the castle." 64 They have good reason for what they do, for whoever has attempted to spend the night at the castle, has never come back to say how they were entertained." "If others have attempted it why should'nt I?" said Merry."You had better leave it alone," said his host, "you are only thrusting your head into danger."-" No fear of danger," said Brother Merry, "only give me the key and plenty of brave eating and drinking." So the hostess gave him what he asked for, and he went off to the castle, relished his supper, and when he found himself sleepy, laid himself down on the floor, for there was not a bed in the place.

Well, he soon went to sleep, but in the night he was awakened by a great noise, and when he aroused himself, behold! he saw nine very ugly devils, dancing in a circle which they had made round him. "Dance as long as you like," said Brother Merry," but don't come near me." But the devils kept coming nearer and nearer, and almost trod on his face with their misshapen feet. "Be quiet," said he, but they behaved still worse. At ast he got angry, and crying "Holla! I'll soon make you quiet," he caught hold of the leg of a stool and struck it about him. But nine devils against one soldier were too much, and if he laid about lustily upon those before him, those behind pulled his hair and pinched him miserably. "Aye, aye, you pack of devils, now you are too hard upon me, but wait a bit," and thereupon he cried out, "I wish all the nine devils were in my knapsack," and it was no sooner said than done : there they were; so he buckled it close up and threw it into a corner. Then was all still again; so Brother Merry laid himself down and slept till morning, when be landlord and the nobleman to whom the castle beonged came to see how it had fared with him; and when they saw him sound and lively, they were astonished, and asked, "Did the ghosts, then, do nothing to you?" Why not exactly," said Merry; "but I have got them all nine in my knapsack. You may dwell quietly enough in your castle now; from henceforth they won't trouble you." Then the nobleman thanked him, and gave him great rewards, and begged him to remain in his service, saying that he would take care of him all the days of his life. "No," answered he, "I am used to wander and rove about: I will again set forth."

Then he went on till he came to a smithy, and he went in and laid his knapsack on the anvil, and bade the smith and all his men to hammer away upon it as hard as they could, so they did, with their largest hammers, and all their might; and the poor devils set up a piteous howling. And when at last they opened the knapsack, there were eight of them dead; but one, which had been snug in a fold of the knapsack, was still alive, and he slipt out and ran away to his home below in a twinkling.

After that, Brother Merry wandered about the world for a long time; but at last he grew old, and began to think of his latter end. So he went to a hermit, who was held to be a very pious man, and said, "I am tired of roving, and will now endeavour to go to heaven." The hermit answered, "There stand two ways, the one broad and pleasant, that leads to hell; the other is rough and narrow and that leads to heaven." be fool, indeed," thought Brother Merry, "if I go the rough and narrow road." So he went the broad and pleasant way, till he at last came to a great black door, and that was the door of hell.

"I must

Brother Merry knocked, and the door-keeper opened it; and when he saw that it was Merry, he was sadly frightened, for who should he be but the ninth devil, who was in the knapsack, and thought himself lucky to have escaped with nothing but a black eye! So he bolted the door again directly, and ran to the chief of the devils and said,There is a fellow outside with a knapsack on his back, but pray don't let him in, for, he can get all hell into his knapsack, by wishing it. He once got me a terrible ugly hammering in it." So they called out to Brother Merry, and told him he must go away, for they should not let him in. Well, if they will not have me here," thought Merry, "I'll e'en try if I can get a lodging in heaven,--somewhere or other I must rest." So he turned about and went on till he came to the door of heaven, and there he knocked.


St. Peter, who sat close by, had the charge of the entrance, and Brother Merry knew him, and said, "Are you here, old acquaintance? then things will go better with me." But St. Peter said I suppose you want to get into heaven." "Aye, aye, brother, let me in; I must ut up somewhere. If they would have taken me into



We have received a most welcome abundance of good wishes and encouragement upon the appearance of our new undertaking. Letters have showered upon us, like April blossoms. We beg the writers to accept our heartiest thanks, and are glad of their good word for more reasons than ordinary. They help us to enjoy our

task for its own sake, as well as for other benefits which it may produce.

Next to the progress of mankind at large in knowledge

and goodwill, there is nothing more delightful to think

of in the present day than the special advancement of friendship between England and France, and their neighbourly interchange of one another's advantages. We understand that the wood-cuts and letter-press of the Penny Magazine are regularly carried over to France, and re-issued there; and our publisher has put in our hands the first number of a Library of Popular Instruction, founded on a Parisian work of a similar name, the Bibliotheque Populaire, which may be called the publication of the French Society for the Diffusion of Knowledge, an assemblage of gentlemen containing some of the first names in France for talent as well as rank. The work is not to be a mere rescript or translation, but partly re-written, mixed up with more entertainment, and adapted to English illustrations and theories, which we shall be the more glad to see in the future numbers, because in the one before us there appears to us to be a little too much importance given to Napoleon and the art of war, a great soldier and a very important art (as the world has hitherto gone), but not a man to be selected for his intellectual greatness in a book of philosophy, which is to help to get the world out of the servitude of all false greatness, however mixed up with truth. As for the rest, this first number of the Library of Popular Instruction appears to us to be well calculated to effect what it desires, that is to give the hitherto uninstructed reader such an acquaintance with the nature and names of the first elements of science and the arts, as shall ex

cite and enable him to help himself to a knowledge hitherto locked up in learned and expensive works.

Mr. Major's April number of his Cabinet Gallery, commences with an admirable scene from Teniers, of three old codgers concluding a bargain; or rather, of two old codgers, and a third younger party, of some knowing thirty years of age, or thereabout, with all his wits, health, and impudence about him, who, with a face of triumphant self-satisfaction, half concealed under a shew of heartiness, is giving a well-done-my-boy clap of the hand to the venerable seller of the pigs, who seems hardly to know whether he has been right or not; while the witness looks inclined to remonstrate with this jovial hurry, and to intimate a question to the buyer, whether he can have the face to shatter the old gentleman's faculties in that manner. All this has been better told in other words by Mr. Allan Cunningham. There are one or two fine faces in Leonardo da Vinci's Christ reasoning with the Pharisees. Doubt and stubbornness are particularly well expressed in the face, with the large chin and compressed mouth to the right; but the faces are all too long for the foreheads, and that of Jesus, instead of expressing the sublime of benevolence, is a little better than a smooth easy-faced young lady's. We cannot like Mieris's Dutch Alehouse, with the unpleasantly drawn-out features of the host, and the insipid ones of the daughter; but we like prodigiously the painter himself, and the anecdote recorded of his giving one of his finest works to a cobbler and his wife, who had saved him from an awkward accident in the streets.

Part the First of Illustrations of the Bible, by Mr. Westall and Mr. Martin, has agreeably surprised us by a landscape full of sentiment and grandeur from the pencil of the former of these painters, whose genius in that department of the art we had not been aware of.

The long hull of the ark in the horizon, the threatening and yet relenting clouds breaking apart, the hopeful, and for the first time, roundly shining sun, again casting its dazzling brilliance over the waters, and the dove stooping towards the tree-top, which looks like a flower of the sea, are all conceived in the freshest and truest taste of the scene. Of the figured designs of this gentleman elegant, but neither new nor powerful, we canno speak so highly; and with all Mr. Martin's genius for the material grandeur of rocks and mountains and other magnitudes, (which none more truly admire than we do) he always disappoints us where intellectual expression and the soul of things, are required. His human beings, to say nothing of their incorrect drawing, (though he has an excellent general idea of the characteristic differences of the male and female outline) become like pigmies in his gigantic landscapes. Expression of face (the most heroical and the test of the highest art and epic of all things,) is generally out of the question; and the sentiment of his Paradise is mistaken.

It is not Paradisaical. The happy pair are not enclosed and embowered in flowery seclusion, —" imparadised," wanderers in a huge overwhelming amphitheatre of as the poet says, "in one another's arms." They are alps and distances; and are crushed by its immensity. It is one thing to give them the place to range in, and another to show them always in the midst of it, and never, as it were, in their own proper persons, having their world in themselves.

Mr. Knight has just issued Part the First, price Eighteenpence, of The Musical Library, one of the most pleasing evidences that have yet appeared of the new and extraordinary facilities thrown open to the lovers of taste and knowledge, by providing cheap publications for the many, instead of dear ones for the few. The other day it was difficult to procure a single piece of music, correctly printed, for a less sum than a shilling or eighteenpence. A song of any length cost two or thre shillings, and overtures, &c. in proportion. But, says Mr. Knight, Music shall be as cheap, after its kind, as Reading: there is no reason why fine sounds, like the air through which they come to us, should not be thrown open to all. Accordingly, we have here, for eighteenpence, in an elegant wrapper withal, and printed with admirable legibility in moveable types, four instrumental and nine vocal pieces! a quantity, that on a rough estimate might have cost a couple of guineas in the music shops, and including some of the finest productions of Handel, Haydn, and Mozart, together with those of Purcell, Storace, Callcott, Righini, &c., and Shakspeare's Dowland, the lutenist of the time of Elizabeth. A casket of the very pearls of sound, for one-and-sixpence!

This is literally giving music to the "march of intellect."

A monthly supplement of letter-press, abounding in information, both with regard to the pieces selected and to music in general, is added, for the convenience of those who chuse to get a critical acquaintance with the


From the hasty glance which we have yet been enabled to give it, it appears to be written with the true relish as well as the scientific knowledge.





"THE following story," says Mr. Hazlitt, in his Notes of Beyle in his charming little work entitled De l'Amour, as a Journey through France and Italy, is related by M. a companion to the famous one in Dante and I shall give the whole passage in his words, as placing the Italian character (in former as well as latter times) in a striking point of view.

I allude (he says) to those touching lines of Dante :Deh quando tu sarai tornato al mondo, Ricordati di me, che son la Pia; Sienna mi fe: disfecemi Maremma: Salsi colui, che inannellata pria, Disposando, m' avea con la sua gemma. Purgatorio, Canto v. [Dante, the great Italian poet, in his imaginary progress through Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise, meets with a variety of his countrymen and country women who accost him, or speak to others, and in brief but intense words, relate, or refer to their story. In Purgatory he sees a female spirit, who says, "I pray thee, when thou returnest to earth, that thou wilt remember me remember Pia. Sienna was the place of my birth, the Marshes of my death. He knows it who had put upor my hand the spousal ring."]


The woman who speaks with so much reserve (con

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these virtues, during a condition of society arising out of misconceptions of power and the true value of it, have been thrust into far too low a rank in the moral scale. Mr. Bentham's work will assist in raising them to their just importance. We are loth to mark passages in italics, however great the temptation, because it runs a chance of throwing a slur upon what is not marked; but we have found it impossible to resist on some of the occasions before us, in which the concentrated spirit of beneficence catches up the-delighted moral sense with a pungent quickness and fragrancy, like that of the new sweet briar in the garden.

tinues M. Beyle) had in secret undergone the fate of Desdemona, and had it in her power, by a single word, to have revealed her husband's crime to the friends whom she had left upon earth.

Nello della Pietra obtained in marriage the hand of Madonna Pia, sole heiress of the Ptolomei, the richest and most noble family of Sienna. Her beauty which was the admiration of all Tuscany, gave rise to a jealousy in the breast of her husband, that, envenomed by wrong reports and suspicions continually reviving, led to a frightful catastrophe. It is not easy to determine at this day if his wife was altogether innocent; but Dante has represented her as such. Her husband carried her with him into the marshes of Volterra, celebrated then, as now, for the pestiferous effects of the air. Never would he tell his unhappy wife the reason of her banishment into so dangerous a place. His pride did not deign to pronounce either complaint or accusation. He lived with her alone, in a deserted tower, of which I have been to see the ruins on the sea shore; here he never broke his disdainful silence, never replied to the questions of his youthful bride, never listened to her entreaties. He waited, unmoved by her, for the air to produce its fatal effects. The vapours of this unwholesome swamp were not long in tarnishing features, the most beautiful, they say, that in that age had appeared upon earth. In a few months she died. Some chroniclers of these remote times report, that Nello employed the dagger to hasten her end: she died in the marshes in some horrible manner; but the mode of her death remained a mystery, even to her contemporaries. Nello della Pietra survived to pass the rest of his days in a silence which was never broken.

Nothing can be conceived more noble or more delicate than the manner in which the ill-fated Pia addresses herself to Dante. She desires to be recalled to the memory of the friends whom she had quitted so young at the same time, in telling her name, and alluding to her husband, she does not allow herself the smallest complaint against a cruelty unexampled, but thenceforth irreparable; and merely intimates that he knows the history of her death.

This constancy in vengeance and in suffering is to be met with, I believe, only among the people of the South. In Piedmont I found myself the involuntary witness of a fact almost similar; but I was at the time ignorant of the details. I was ordered, with five-andtwenty dragoons into the woods that border the Sesia, to prevent the contraband traffic. On my arrival in the evening at this wild and solitary place, I distinguished among the trees the ruins of an old castle: I went to it; to my great surprise it was inhabited. I there found a nobleman of the country of a very unpromising aspect; a man six feet in height and forty years of age: he allowed me a couple of apartments with a very ill grace. Here I entertained myself by getting up some pieces of music with my quarter-master; after the expiration of a week we observed that our host kept guard over a woman whom we called Camilla in jest we were far from suspecting the dreadful truth. She died at the end of six weeks. I had the melancholy curiosity to see her in her coffin; I bribed a monk who had charge of it, and, towards midnight, under pretext of sprinkling the holy water, he conducted me into the chapel. I there saw one of those fine faces which are beautiful even in the bosom of death: she had a large aquiline nose, of which I shall never forget the beautiful and expressive outline. I quitted this mournful spot; but, five years after, a detachment of my regiment accompanying the Emperor to his coronation as King of Italy, I had the whole story recounted to me. I learned that the jealous husband, the Count of - -, had one morning found, hanging to his wife's bed-side, an English watch belonging to a young man in the little town where they lived. The same day he took her to the ruined castle in the midst of the forests of the Sesia. Like Nello della Pietra, he uttered not a single word. If she made him any request, he presented to her, sternly, and in silence, the English watch, which he had always about him. In this manner he passed nearly three years with her. She at length fell a victim to despair in the flower of her age. Her husband attempted to dispatch the owner of the watch with a stilletto, failed, fled to Genoa, embarked there, and no tidings have been heard of him since. His property was confiscated. "This story," observes Mr. Hazlitt, "is interesting and well told. One such incident, or one page in Dante or in Spenser, is worth all the route between this and Paris; and all the sights in all the post-roads in Europe. Oh, Sienna! If I felt charmed with thy narrow, tenantless streets, or looked delighted through thy arched gateway over the subjected plain, it was that some recollections of Madonna Pia hung upon the beatings of my spirit, and converted a barren waste into the regions of romance."

GOODNESS AND PLEASURE. "If virtue could be seen as she really is, all the world would fall in love with her."-PLATO.

WE proceed to give some of the further extracts we romised from the unpublished work of Mr. Bentham, on the prudential and social virtues-or what is to be pursued and what avoided, for the attainment of individual happiness, and a proper state of intercourse be*ween man and man, consequently, of the very end, of society itself, and all laws and governments. Some of

Conversational Enjoyment. No man, who has the gift of language can, in the presence of others, pass a single hour, without the opportunity being afforded him of communicating enjoyment. One principal reason why our existence has so much less of happiness crowded into it than is accessible to us is, that we neglect to gather up those minute particles of pleasure which every moment offers to our acceptance. In striving after a sum total, we forget the cyphers of which it is composed.

Anger. The irascible affections, as respects others, are of all the most infectious, and ordinarily produce vehement re-action. Let them be directed against whom they may, they diminish the pleasure in serving the irascible person, and with the diminution of the pleasure comes the diminution of the disposition, or the motive to serve him. But what is the effect on the irascible person as disassociated from others? What price has he paid for the short-lived pleasure of being out of humour? He has fluttered his temper; he has weakened his powers of judgment; his mastery over his own mind is diminished; he has lost time; he has lost influence; in a word, he is left with a serious balance of loss.

Re-action of Beneficence. It may happen that the effort of beneficence may not benefit those for whom it was intended, but when wisely directed, it must benefit the person from whom it emanates. Good and friendly conduct may meet with an unworthy, an ungrateful return, but the absence of gratitude on the part of the receiver cannot destroy the self-approbation which recompenses the giver. And we may scatter the seeds of courtesy and kindness o'ound us at so little expense! Some of them will inevitably fall upon good ground, and grow up into benevolence in the minds of others, and all of them will bear fruit of happiness in the bosom where they spring. Once blest are all the virtues always;

twice blest sometimes.

Re-action of Maleficence. The counterpart of these observations applies to the baneful and immoral qualities. Their influence upon others may be undefinable, not so their influence on the person who exhibits them; he must be deteriorated. Cases may occur in which incivility, asperity, anger, ill-will, may, as far as regards others, produce consequences opposed to their natural tendencies, but they can only have a pernicious effect upon him who makes the foolish experiment of trifling with the happiness of others.

Reproaches for the sake of reproaching. Let useless reproaches in thought be avoided; they may lead to useless reproaches in words, or useless reprobation in action. Abundance of pleasurable subjects of discourse. The topics (of conversation) are numerous, which, while they are pernicious to no one, are pleasurable to the hearer, pleasurable to the speaker, and pleasurable or useful to mankind at large.

Conversation with all. Let the tone of your conversation be invariably benevolent. Differ without asperity: agree without dogmatism. Kind words cost no more than unkind ones: kind words produce kind actions; not only on the part of him to whom they are addressed, but on the part of him by whom they are employed; and this not incidentally only, but habitually, in virtue of the principle of association.

Imperious questioning. There is an instrument of tyranny and consequent source of annoyance, against whose intrusions it is most desirable to find protection. It is that of imprudent interrogation. It assumes various shapes, and sometimes produces evil of no inconsiderable amount. Its powers of annoyance vary with the situation of the person who asks the question, as compared or contrasted with that of him who is expected to answer it; they vary with the topic which is put forward, and with the times or occasions on which it is introduced. Where an individual in a superior situation asks a question of an inferior, which that inferior is known to be unwilling to answer, what is the question but the interference of despotism on the part of the questioner; and what to the party questioned, but a cause of suffering, and of mendacity.

Ascription of motives. The pretension which indicates the motives of others is almost always futile and offensive. For, if their motive be what we suppose it, and the motive be a praiseworthy one, it will be visible by and in the act; and if the motive be blameworthy, to denounce it will but be a cause of annoyance to him to whom the motive is attributed. And after all, we have nothing to do with motives. If bad motives produce good actions, so much the better for society; and if good motives produce bad actions, so much the worse. It is the act, and not the motive with which we have to do; and when the act is before us, and the motive concealed from us, it is the idlest of idling to be enquiring into that which has no influence, and forgetting that which has all the real influence upon our condition.


We have selected, for our abstract of an entire book this week, the memoirs of this extraordinary product of a monstrous and unhappy system, written with singular impartiality by Mr. Woolrych, a gentleman at the bar, now, if we mistake not, in Parliament. We have no such judges now as Jeffreys, nor (in England) such kings as James the Second. Far different surely are they! Yet it is always salutary to bear in mind the evils from which the progress of knowledge has delivered us; and the example of this poor arbitrary wretch's singular self-delusion, or blustering attempts at it, and his humiliating and frightful fall, may be useful, according to their degrees of peril, to men the most confident of their cleverness and success, when under the temptation of compounding the pleasure of seconding the blows of power with the right to do it.

George Jeffreys was the sixth son of John Jeffreys, Esq. of Acton, near Wrexham, in the county of Denbigh, by Margaret, a daughter of Sir Thomas Ireland, Knt. of Bewsey, in the county of Palatine of Lancaster, and was born at his father's house, about the year


John Jeffreys claimed descent from Tudor Trevor, Earl of Hereford, and appears to have been a homely frugal person, much respected by his neighbours, with little of his son's ambition, and as little of his cruel eccentricity of character. George's splendour and turbulent train, when he once paid an ostentatious visit to his native place, startled his sober father out of his forbearance. The old man was never chancellor-and the chancellor was never an old man. The father survived the son.


A bully is in general one whom ignorance and dullness of comprehension render callous to all kinds of feeling; he dares, therefore, and assumes what others fear and shame to meddle with. He is like the rhinoceros, whose hide renders him regardless alike of bullets and flower banks, who breaks down the tangled thicket whose heart softens only to the courting of a bed of mud. Such a constitution is, in general, from its very dullness and bull-headedness, destitute of the quality which we familiarly term tact-a power of discriminating circumstances, and applying actions appropriate to the occasion; but Jeffreys was in some degree an exception to this rule rude, indolent, dull, or entirely callous; of a narrow intellect, and base propensities, he still possessed a certain pampered vigour of action, joined to a degree of tact. Were our heavy wild beast just alluded to, gifted with about as much mind as a highwayman, he would be an awkward customer to deal with. Accordingly, Jeffreys revelled in the intoxications of executive tyranny, feeding his thirst for action, and impregnable to the assaults of feelings to which he was a stranger. He is much to be censured, not a little to be pitied. With all allowance for habit, education, and natural thoughtlessness, Jeffreys was far other than a happy man. His successes were burdened with many a difficulty, many a price never to be paid. His mortifications-and cruel ones they were-were as numerous as his successes; and he seems to have lived in a perpetual state of unsatisfied desire and exasperating repulse. May not, by the way, the unrelenting booby, under whom he was at school, have tended to increase exasperation of his constitutional ferocity.

A desire of aggrandisement and the profitable state of the law, which raised its drooping head under the influence of restored majesty, seem to have been the inducements that determined his choice for that profession, and, with the assistance of his friends, he set himself to study it, and was entered of the Inner Temple, May 19, 1663. His studentship was more remarkable for varied activity than intense practice. In the course of his compotations, he managed to insinuate himself into the society and secrets of a band of malcontents; and this he made serve to the enlargement of his narrow means. Thus, then, though certainly not through youthful enthusiasm, he began his political career as a reformer. He is an ornament to the order of Rats.

While he was yet no older than eighteen, being at Kingston, whence the plague, aided by his effrontery, had scared the lawyers, he put on a gown and pleaded, though he was not called to the bar till two years afterwards. This circumstance has given rise to a belief that he was never regularly called to the bar. When he first started in practice, his political associates gave him good support, and he availed himself of the now hacknied, and we hope exploded, stratagems of pushing professional men, such as having his servants come after him to coffee houses and the like. He was of a bold aspect, and cared not for the countenance of any man; his words voluble and clear, and he spared none that were likely to serve his client; his voice was loud, his manners overbearing, and he had a quickness to discover the weak points of his adversaries, upon which he threw all the might of his bull-dog ferocity. He sometimes blundered, and met with more than his match; but the power he acquired over the weak and the unfortunate soon got him notice and fees. Had he encountered no witnesses but such as the one we are about to speak of, his insolence would have been cowed, and much good blood perhaps saved. The following is the first rebuff we find recorded:

"A countryman who was giving his evidence, clad in a leather doublet, and Mr. Jeffreys who was counsel for the opposite party, found that his testimony was 'pressing home.' When he came to cross-examine, he bawled forth, You fellow in the leather doublet, what

Upon this occasion Sir George's Liographer attempts a defence of his conduct. Its heinousness is doubtless exaggerated, as such things mostly will be by a natural indignation; but allowing for the grossest exaggeration, still the chief justice's conduct remains chargeable with insolence and brutality of the worst kind, particularly in a dispenser of justice. He began speciously enough, though in a suspicious tone of adjuration, by reprehending the practice of whispering to the jury. "Let us have no remarks," said he, "but a fair trial, in God's name!" He shewed another comparative decency or two in the early part of the trial, which his biographer (naturally, perhaps, enough, considering his subject) would have us take as singular favours. But as the case thickened, Jeffreys, as usual, grew outrageous. Some papers were shewn to Sidney.

Col. Sidney.I do not know what to make of it; I can read it.

Lord Chief Justice.-Aye, no doubt of it; better than any man here. Fix on any part you would have read. Col. Sidney-I do not know what to say to it, to read it in pieces then.

have you for swearing?' The man looked steadily at him, and, Truly, sir,' said he, if you have no more for lying than I have for swearing, you might wear a leather doublet as well as I.' Of course every body laughed, and the neighbourhood rang with the bluntness of the reply."

Jeffreys now attempted to push his fortune by means of a union with the daughter of a rich merchant; and he made a kinswoman of the lady to serve as a gobetween in the affair. The father, however, discovered the affair, and secured his daughter and her money. The future judge, in a fit of impartiality, perhaps of spite, offered his hand to the kinswoman, and was accepted. Her name was Sarah, the daughter of Thomas Neesham, A.M. She brought her husband three hundred pounds, and proved a careful housewife. By this lady he had several children. As his first practice and success was in Guildhall, he cultivated to the best of his ability a city connection; in so much, that when he was scarcely twenty-three, he was made common serjeant. Having borne this office for some years he made a bold and avowed change in his political opinions, and helped himself to the place of Recorder, which he obtained partly through his intimacy with the notorious Chiffinch. He was then knighted, and October 22, 1678, made Recorder, or as he himself termed it, "the mouth-piece of the city."


A little before his elevation he became a widower, in three months married again (a widow), a daughter of Sir Thomas Bludworth, and in a few months afterwards was presented with a little son; a circumstance of which he was once unpleasantly reminded. Observing a lady who was giving her evidence pretty sharply in a cause which he was advocating:-"Madam, said he, 'you are very quick in your answers!" "As quick as I am, Sir George, I am not so quick as your lady." While Recorder, he gave some specimens of his future rigours. A poor bookseller of the name of Smith published a book against the expenses of Mayors and Sheriffs. "Debauchery," said the writer, "is come to that height, that the fifth part of the charge of a shrievalty is wine, the produce of another country." The censures were however so general that the bill was ignored. Somebody scraped out the "Ignoramus," and next sessions it again appeared, and was again indorsed with that equivocal word of rejection. Jeffreys was enraged, and sent the bill back a third time. A third time he read " Ignoramus." "God bless me from such jurymen!" vociferated the city advocate, "I will see the face of every one of them, and let others see them also." And so he ordered the bar to be cleared, that they might be exposed to public view. The jury, seventeen in number, one by one reiterated the word "Ignoramus." They conquered

When Jeffreys had once planted himself on the track of preferment-being active, bold, impudent, pliant, and unscrupulous, he advanced with a speed that has been seldom equalled. He was called serjeant, Feb. 17, 1688, on which occasion he gave rings with the mottoA Deo rex, a rege lex. (The king from God, and law from the king.) About the same time he became a Welch judge, and in the April following, Sir Job Charlton, a worthy old man, was ousted from the chief-justiceship of Chester to make room for Jeffreys. He was made king's serjeant in May of the same year, and Nov. 17, 1681, was created a baronet. His arrogance increased with his advancement, and in the Kingston midsummer assizes for 1679, he provoked Mr. Baron Weston to severe anger. Some words passed between them upon an occasion when he was endeavouring to browbeat some witnesses, and he complained that he was not treated like a counsellor, being curbed in the management of his brief. "Ha!" fiercely returned the judge, "since the king has thrust his favours upon you in making you chief-justice of Chester, you think to run down every body if you find yourself aggrieved, make your complaint; here's nobody cares for it." The counsel said he had not been used to make complaints, but rather to stop those that were made; but the judge again enjoined him to silence. Jeffreys sat down, and wept with anger.

In 1680, he made himself very unpopular, by shewing his loyal zeal in endeavouring to prevent the people from petitioning parliament, as their petitions were becoming something troublesome to the Catholic friends of the king. The king was petitioned to remove him from his offices. The only notice the petition obtained was the king's saying, "I will think of it." Eventually, however, Jeffreys had not courage to withstand his enemies, amongst whom the parliament was the foremost, and he resigned his place of Recorder. "He was not parliament proof," said the witty king; and it is supposed that Charles ever after despised him for his pusillanimity. During his disgrace he attempted to return to his old friends the malcontents, but was so roughly received, that he was obliged, in spite of himself, to be faithful to the king, from whom he never afterwards had an opportunity of withdrawing himself. Upon the occasion of the Rye-house plot he was counsel on the king's side, and put the most searching questions during the whole business. The case was likely to fail for want of proof that Lord Russel had assented to the order of the conspirators. This fact, or something very like it, he succeeded in worming out of Lord Howard. On the 29th of September, 1683, Sir George Jeffreys was appointed chief justice in the room of Sanders, who died of apoplexy, brought on by ale drinking. One of the first trials at which he presided was the trial of the illustrious Algernon Sidney, who was condemned to death for theoretical writings taken out of his desk!

Lord Ch. Just. I perceive you have disposed them under certain heads; to what heads would you have read?

Col. SidneyMy lord, let him give an account of it that did it.

Be it remembered that it was the judge who thus interfered. When judgment was pronounced, Sidney firmly uttered his appeal to God that the inquisition for his life might be made only against those who maliciously persecuted him for righteousness' sake. "Jeffreys," says the biographer, "as well he might, on hearing this, started from his seat, and lost his temper! I pray God,' cried Jeffreys, work you in a temper fit to go unto the other world, for I see you are not fit for this.""


Col. Sidney. My lord, feel my pulse, (holding out his hand) and see if I am disordered; I bless God I never was in better temper than I am now.

Meantime the Lord Chief Justice lived no temperate life. He would unbend himself, to use the words of North, "in drinking, laughing, singing, kissing, and every extravagance of the bottle." He paid for such indulgences in severe fits of the stone, which encreased the violence of his temper. To one of these visitations the writer ascribes his severity on the trial of Sir Thomas Armstrong. Sir Thomas demanded the benefit of the law. Jeffreys exclaimed, "That you shall have, by the grace of God! See that execution be done on Friday next according to law: you shall have the full benefit of the law." Armstrong, finding all he said to be in vain, exclaimed, "My blood be upon your head!" "Let it, let it! I am clamour proof!" returned Jeffreys. Fierce as he was, the chief Justice did not always escape without a smart rebuke, any more than the barrister. An old greybeard once displeasing him, he said, "If your conscience is as large as your beard, you will swear any thing." "My Lord," retorted the old man, "if you go about to measure consciences by beards, your lordship has none."

In September 1684, much to the annoyance of decent observers, Sir George Jeffreys was summoned to the cabinet. In 1685 the king died, and James succeeded to the throne. The Judge suited the sullen passions of Jeffreys of Ulem, in the county of Salop. And now the new monarch, and Jeffreys was created Baron Titus Oates, the famous anti-catholic informer, who had formerly behaved with much insolence to Jeffreys when recorder, was to be tried by him for perjury. Jeffreys never forgave any one. Oates said that what he had sworn was true, and if need were he would seal it with his blood. "Twere a pity," said Jeffreys, "but that it were with thy blood." Oates was convicted upon two indictments, and sentenced to pay a thousand marks upon each, to be stripped of his canonical habits, to stand twice in the pillory, to be whipped from Aldgate Newgate to Tyburn, to Newgate one day, and two days afterwards from pillory five days every year he lived. Oates was a por-and-he was to stand in the tentous scoundrel, but this was a portentous punish



In the autumn of 1685, Jeffreys went forth to execute vengeance on the adherents of the luckless Duke of Monmouth. He took with him the lord chief baron, and three puisne judges, and was guarded by a party of Colonel Kirk's soldiers. He acted upon a special commis. sion, and a second commission gave him the authority command. This expedition has been termed of general, so that he might have troops at his personal Campaign," and "the Bloody Assizes;" and bloody Jeffreys's work he made of it. He afterwards said, when he was in the tower, that his instructions were severer than his execution of them, and that on his return from the circuit, he was snubbed at court for not acting on them to the full. Be that as it may, the numbers he condemned that he had condemned about a thousand on one occasion, are reckoned by hundreds. He once boasted to a major being as many as the officer's soldiers had killed. The first place Jeffreys halted at, was Winchester, where Lady Alicia Lisle was awaiting her trial, charged escaped from Weston Moor, and entreated an asylum with harbouring one John Hicks, a traitor. Hicks had mation to the nearest justice of the peace, but suffered at the hands of Lady Alice. She instantly sent inforthe man to escape. Jeffreys himself gave evidence on the bench against the prisoner, a poor old lady, seventy years of age, who slept during part of the trial; he wrung a death-sealing verdict out of the jury. "If I'd been among you," said he, "and she had been my own

mother I should have found her guilty." It is probable, that Jeffreys looked for a bribe, which, however, was offered too late; and when the king was applied to, he said, that he had promised Jeffreys not to pardon her. Upon opening the assizes at Dorchester, the clergyman spoke of mercy, but Jeffreys laughed both during prayers aud the sermon. On a Saturday, thirty pri soners were put to the bar. The same evening, Jeffreys signed a warrant to hang thirteen of them on the Monday. All the rest but one followed soon after. Among the prisoners was a constable, who, having some money in his hands for the use of the militia, was deprived of it by the duke's friends. He objected to the witnesses, who were a woman of ill fame and a Catholic. "Villain! rebel!" exclaimed the judge, "methinks I see thee already with a halter about thy neck;" and he was ordered specially to be hung the first. The crime of another one, Bragg, was being deprived of his horse by Monmouth's party. At Taunton, he sentenced one Tutchin to be imprisoned for seven years, to be fined one hundred marks, to be whipped through every town in Dorsetshire once a year, and to find security for his good behaviour through life. The ladies in court burst into tears, and the clerk of the arraigns was so much astonished that he could not help observing upon the number of market towns in Dorset: he said, that "the sentence reached to whipping about once a fortnight, and that Mr. Tutchin was a very young man." Aye, he is a very young man, but an old rogue," said Jeffreys. Tutchin in vain petitioned to be hanged instead. The small-pox, however, saved his bones, and procured him a change of sentence. On opening the assizes in Somerset, he declared, "it would not be bis fault if he did not depopulate the place." "I will pay my excise to King Monmouth," said an old lady in jest; she was flogged for her joke. But we must have done with Jeffreys's campaign. We must quote, however, an extract from his charge to the jury at Bristol-it is a piece of chracteristic brutality.


"Gentlemen, I am by the mercy of God, come to this great and populous city; a city that boasts both of its riches and trade, and may justly indeed claim the next place to the great and populous metropolis. Gentlemen, I find here are a great many auditors who are very intent, as if they expected some formal or prepared speech; but assure yourselves, we come not to make either set speeches nor formal declamations; for, Lord! we have seen these things twenty times before: no, we come to do the King's business."-"But I find a special commission is an unusual thing here, and relishes very ill; nay, the very women storm at it, for fear we should tlemen, I fear it is much in fashion in this city, for the take the upper hand of them too; for, by the bye, genwomen to govern and bear sway." Then he told them that he would give them no trouble about points or matters of law, but only remind them of events which had happened; "for I have the calendar of this city in my pocket," he said; and he then complained of the stone, and the unevenness of their roads, which was a bad omen for them. After this, came a long sermon about the blessed martyr King Charles, and rebellion the sin of witchcraft, a panegyric on King James, and an ample acknowledgment of his absolute power as God's vicegerent on earth: and then he opened on the Duke of Monmouth by way of antithesis: On the other hand, up starts a puppet prince who seduced the mobile into rebellion, into which they are easily bewitched; for I say, the rebellion is like the sin of witchcraft. This man, who had as little title to the crown as the least of you (for I hope you are all legitimate), being overtaken by justice, and by the goodness of his prince brought to the scaffold, he has the confidence (good God! that men should be so impudent!) to say, that God Almighty did know with what joyfulness he did die (a traitor!)."Great God of heaven and earth! what reason have men to rebel? But as I told you, rebellion is like the sin of witchcraft; fear God and honour the King is rejected by people, for no other reason, as I can find, but that it is written in St. Peter. Gentlemen, I must tell you, I am afraid that this city hath too many of these people in it; and it is your duty to search them out." [Here the grand jury were in as many words diadded much to that ship's loading; there was your rected to the mayor and aldermen.]-" For this city Tylys, your Roes, and your Wades, men started up like mushrooms, scoundrel fellows, mere sons of dunghills: these men must forsooth set up for liberty and property! a fellow that carries the sword before Mr. Mayor, must be very careful of his property, and turn politician, as if bears the sword, though perchance not worth a groat. he had as much property as the person before whom he Gentlemen, I must tell you, you have still here the Tylys, the Roes, and the Wades: I have brought a brush in my pocket, and I shall be sure to rub the dirt whereever it is, or on whomsoever it sticks. Gentlemen, I shall not stand complimenting with you; I shall talk you, I have brought a besom, and I will sweep every man's with some of you before you and I part, I tell you; I tell lars? I hope you will save me that trouble."-" I dɔ door, whether great or small. Must I mention particubelieve it would have went very hard with you, if the enemy had entered the city, notwithstanding the endeawithin, or else why should their design be on this city? had, and must have great encouragement from a party vours which were used to accomplish it. Certainly they Nay, when the enemy was within a mile of you, that a ship should be set on fire in the midst of you, as a signa to the rebels, and to amuse those within! when, if God Almighty had not been more gracious unto you than you was to yourselves, (so that wind and tide was for you,)

On the way the people were so furious, that Jeffreys seems to have been quite overcome with fear, lifting his hands first on one side of the carriage, and then on the other, crying out, For the Lord's sake, keep them off! for the Lord's sake, keep them off!"


for what I know, the greatest part of this city had perished; and yet you are willing to believe it was an accident. Certainly here is a great many of those men whom they call trimmers; a whig is but a mere fool to these; for a whig is some sort of a subject in comparison of these; for a trimmer is but a cowardly and basespirited whig; for the whig is but the journeymanprentice that is hired and set over the rebellion, whilst the trimmer is afraid to appear in the cause."-" Gentlemen, I tell you, I have the calendar of this city here in my hand. I have heard of those that have searched into the very sink of a conventicle, to find out some sneaking rascal to hide their money by night. Come, come, gentlemen, to be plain with you, I find the dirt of the ditch is in your nostrils."-[Now he opens upon the chief offence, alluded to by his having the calendar in his pocket, the selling convicted criminals for slaves.]-"Good God! where am I-in Bristol? This city, it seems, claims the privilege of hanging and drawing amongst themselves! I find you have more need of a commission once a month at least. The very magistrates which should be the ministers of justice, fall out one with another to that degree, they will scarce dine with each other; whilst it is the business of some cunning men that lie behind the curtain, to raise divisions amongst them, and set them together by the ears, and knock their loggerheads together: yet I find they can agree for their interest, or if there be but a kid in the case; for I hear the trade of kidnapping is much in request in this city; they can discharge a felon or a traitor, provided they will go to Mr. Alderman's plantation at the West Indies.

"Come, come, I find you stink for want of rubbing. Gentlemen, what need I mind you of these things? I hope you will search into them and inform me. It seems the dissenters and fanatics fare well amongst you, by reason of the favour of the magistrate: for example, if a dissenter who is a notorious and obstinate offender, comes before them to be fined, one alderman or other stands up, and says, He is a good man, (thougn three parts a rebel)! Well then, for the sake of Mr. Alderman, he shall be fined but five shillings. Then comes another, and up stands another good man alderman, and says, I know him to be an honest man, (though rather more than the former). Well, for Mr. Alderman's sake, he shall be fined but half-a-crown; 90, manus manum fricat: you play the knave for me now, and I will play the knave for you by and by. I am ashamed of these things: and I must not forget to tell you I hear of some differences among the clergy,-those that ought to preach peace and unity to others; gentlemen, these things must be looked into."

We must not omit among the enormities of the time, James's gift of Prideaux, a rich man who was in trouble, to Jeffreys. The king's words were, when some one would have interceded for Prideaux, "I have given him to Jeffreys." Jeffreys threatened to hang him; he obtained 15,000l., and, merchant like allowed 240l. as discount for prompt payment.

On his return from the western assizes Lord Jeffreys was made chancellor. "You will find the business beavy," said a bottle companion. "No," said the new chancellor, "I will make it light." Meantime James began to make advances towards restoring the Catholic religion, and among other experiments, with an apparent reasonableness unsuited to the times, tried to gain admittance for a catholic gentleman into the university of Cambridge without taking the oaths. The University resisted this illegal use of royal authority. The same attempt was made at Oxford, and Jeffreys zealously assisted the king in his designs, though undoubtedly a protestant himself. A sense of interest and desire to shew his power on all about him, were, however, stronger feelings with him than even the habitual feelings of early education. He thus went on from one thing to another, till at length he assisted in the well-known committal of the seven bishops. And now so intimate had he grown with James, that on the birth of his son (afterwards the Pretender) the Lord Chancellor stood upon the step of the bed in which the queen lay. At length the Prince of Orange espoused the protestant cause, and landed in England. James fled incontinently, leaving his servant, like the devil of the witches, in the lurch at the last. He did not even give him notice of his flight.

And now Jeffreys, hated by all parties, was left alone and helpless to the mercy of his enemies. He cut off his eyebrows, which were large and fierce, disguised himself as a collier, and fled to Wapping, where he hid himself in an obscure house, to await an opportunity of quitting the kingdom. His plan was to get to Hamburgh by a collier, which was to pretend to be bound for Newcastle, to elude the spies that were set upon out-going vessels. He got on board the collier, but was betrayed by the mate; of which he had a timely suspicion, and so got on shore again to await a safer opportunity. While waiting at a little ale-house, in Anchor and Hope alley, near King Edward stairs, he happened to look out of window. It chanced that a man was passing at that moment, who had once been terror-struck before him, while revelling in power. The man had told a friend at the time, that "he never should forget the terrors of that man's face while he lived." His words proved true; he recognized Jeffreys, proclaimed him aloud, and the rabble burst in upon the fallen tyrant. It is a matter of pure wonder that he was not destroyed on the spot. As it was, they took him to the Lord Mayor, who supplied the place both protector and guard, till two regiments of the trained bands could be procured to convey him to the Tower.


While he was in the Tower, the women of the counties he had visited during the "bloody assizes," petitioned that he might be delivered up to their vengeance. At the same period, an oyster barrel, tightly packed, was sent him as a present; it contained a halter. These were fearful billets-doux. He was not long, however, in confinement, for in a little while he fell sick, and the sickness mercifully killed him. There are many conjectures as to the mode of his death, some attributing it to intemperance, others to a diabolical visitation of fears and remorse, but the most probable thing is, that harassment and anxiety brought on severe fits of his old complaint, which killed him. Jeffreys was taken on the twelfth of September, 1688. He was first interred privately in the Tower; but three years afterwards, when his memory was something blown over, his friends obtained permission, by a warrant of the queen's dated Sept. 1692, to take his remains under their own care, and he was accordingly reinterred in a vault under the communion-table of St. Mary, Aldermanbury, 2nd Nov. 1694. In 1810, during certain repairs, the coffin was uucovered for a time, and the public had a sight of the box containing the mortal remains of the feared and hated magistrate.

One remarkable thing connected with his last hours, is that, although he expressed regret for many of his. actions, he defended himself to the last from a charge of cruelty on the western circuit, reiterating that his orders were severer than his execution of them.

He was a bad man, a worse judge, and a greater fool than all, the sure climax of wickedness; for all wickedness is but violent mistake, and the worst men have the excuse of some inconsistent breeding or other,

or of a blood half insane.

A HANDFUL OF GOOD SENSE. From the Essays and Letters (just published) of “Conversation Sharp," noticed in our last.


Resentment of Rejected Advice. It is at once an odious and a ridiculous kind of tyranny to take it ill of a friend that he judges for himself in the last resort. Ah! if he had but followed my advice,"—"I told him what must happen," and all such betrayings of wounded vanity, are proofs that good sense and good will have both been wanting.

Indeed, if a selfish and conceited man's object is to gain a character for sagacity, he should be glad when his counsel has been disregarded. Human life is so liable to unforeseen troubles, that whatsoever course may be pursued, we shall often regret the lot that we have chosen. As a bachelor, I can be no judge of a known saying: "If you marry, if you do not marry, you will repent." But this will serve as a specimen of the general language. Herein, however, we must avoid the opposite and prevailing evil practice of asking advice for the sake only of stealing a sanction. I was sincerely pleased by the frankness of a young lady, who being urged to consult me respecting an offer of marriage, replied, "Why should I wait? My mind is made up, and I will not use an old friend so ill, as to trouble him for advice which I shall not be guided by.'

Riches and Poverty. In De Rulhiere's Anecdotes of the Revolution in Russia, there is a short story exemplifying that decay of the ancient respect for rank, and that growth of a regard for wealth, so observable of late in most parts of the world. Odarh, a Piedmontese conspirator for Catherine, used I see there is no regard for anything but money, and money I will have. I would go this night and set fire to the palace for money; and when I had got enough, I would retire to my own country, and there live like an honest man." More than once the Empress offered him a title. "No, madam, I thank you," said Oda-h, "money, money, if you please."

to say,

He did get money, went to Nice, and there it is said lived as became a gentleman.

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Many persons do the poor the honour of expecting them to be spotless. Too often is it deemed a good excuse for refusing them alms that they have failings like our own. There are many advantages in this variety of condition, one of which is boasted of by a divine, who rejoices, that between both classes, "all the holidays of the Church are properly kept; since the rich observe the feasts, and the poor observe the fasts."

To be more serious, it is fortunate for the Christian world that our public worship tends at once to abase the proud, and to uplift the dejected; while a similar effect results in a free country from its elections, where the haughtiest are obliged to go hat in hand begging favours from the lowliest. Nor should the lofty be ashamed; for it has so happened, that the best benefactors of the human race have been poor men, such as Socrates and Epaminondas; such as many of the most illustrious Romans, and the inspired founders of our Faith.

War. So much has been well said against war, that

it has the air of a plagiarism when any of its unavoidable evils are alluded to. Yet there is a short passage in Dr. Aikin's Life of Howard the Philanthropist, placing one of them in so striking a light, that it must excite the most painful reflections in a reader of common bumanity. In one of his benevolent journeys, he writes from Moscow, that "no less than 70,000 recruits for

the army and navy, have died in the Russian hospital during a single year."

He was an accurate man, incapable of saying any thing but the truth, and, therefore, this horrible fact cannot but heighten our detestation both of war and of despotism. It has, however, been scarcely spoken of in Europe; while other hateful crimes, though affecting only individuals, have justly become the perpetual objects of pity and indignation. For instance, the cruel murders of the Princesse de Lamballe and Louis the Sixteenth.

The truth is, that despotism is ever destroying its millions silently and unnoticed; while sedition is generally tumultuous, and always dreaded and detested. So many are interested in painting exaggerated pictures of its mischiefs, that the world is kept in perpetual alarm, and even the writers themselves become unable to judge impartially between oppression and resistance, as an artist is said to have drawn the devil so hideous, that he lost his senses by looking at his own colours.

There are few riots without some grievance. "Jupiter," says Lucian, "seldom has recourse to his thunder, but when he is in the wrong;" and at the close of a long military life, Monsieur de Vendome owned that "in the eternal disputes between the mules and the muleteers, the mules were generally in the right."

All our praiseworthy toil and expense in building infirmaries and asylums, cannot save a hundreth part of the lives, nor alleviate a hundreth part of the afflictions brought upon the human race by one unnecessary war.

Next to the calamity of losing a battle, is that of gaining a victory," is reported to have been said by our great commander on the evening of the bloody day of Waterloo.

[If the Duke of Wellington really said this, all true hearts will open to receive him as a brother, however they may differ with him in opinion, or think it their duty practically to oppose him.]

Evil speaking. The most gifted men that I hav known, have been the least addicted to depreciate either friends or foes. Dr. Johnson, Mr. Burke, and Mr. Fox, were always more inclined to overrate them. Your shrewd, sly, evil-speaking fellow is generally a shallow personage; and, frequently, he is as venomous and false when he flatters as when he reviles. He seldom

praises John but to vex Thomas.

[Young men, and older ones too, will sometimes be wholesale in their "severity," not out of any real wish to harm the objects of it, but to evince their own shrewdness, and be admired. The former leave off the habit, if they are discerning and generous, or have suffered enough; the latter, deceiving themselves more than others, sometimes retain it out of a notion that it is the only way of proving their sincerity. We append these common-places to Mr. Sharp's remarks, in order to give hope where it may be wished for, and leave a loop-hole for the bad habit to escape.]


THE PLANT PHYSICIAN.-In the Irish Gardener's Magazine it is said, not only that decoctions or the leaves dried and powdered of the common camomile, Anthemis nobilis, will destroy insects, but that nothing contributes so much to the health of a garden as a number of camomile plants dispersed through it. No green-house or hot-house should be without camomile in a green or in a dried state; either the stalks or flowers will answer. It is a singular fact, that if a plant is drooping and apparently dying, in nine cases out of ten it will recover, if you place a plant of camomile near it. Have any of your readers tried the camomile in any way as a remedy for insects in England ?-John Brown, Westerhum, Kent, Feb. 1834.-Gardener's Magazine, 49.

A MODERATE FOOD.-How hard is the case of the foreigner among us, who often with a sentiment on his lips that elicits our applause, draws down our laughter, perhaps in spite of us, by an unconscious violation of the king's English. The French and Italians are certainly more amiable than we are in this respect: they can listen with an imperturbable thoughtfulness of allowance; but we appeal to the candid reader, whether the following would not have been irresistible with most of us. An Englishman talking with a German friend, a man of a remarkably philosophical cast of mind, and fond of clothing his sentiments in the graces of classical allusion, the discourse happened to turn upon the mortifications to which those subject themselves who seek after the vanities of this world. Our friend was for stoical independence, and had Diogenes in his eye. "For mine self," he exclaimed, with rising enthusiasm, I should be quite contentment for to live all my days in a dub, eating no-ting else but unicorns !" (acorns) CONVERSATION OF MEN OF GENIUS-The great cine. Colbert paid a pretty compliment to Boileau and RaThis minister, at his villa, was enjoying the conversation of our two poets, when the arrival of a prelate was announced; turning quickly to the servant, he said, "Let him be shown every thing except myself." D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature.


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MARRIAGES.-Previously to the year 1754, the date of the first Marriage Act, all marriages in England were regulated by the canon law, by which modes of contracting matrimony other than in the face of the church


were acknowledged. In Scotland the celebration of CRUIKSHANK "AT HOME!" Second Series. In

with numerous original Engravings on

marriage is still governed by the principles of the ancient canon law. In England there is but one form of contracting marriage, and all marriages not celebrated according to that form are void, with an exception however in favour of Jews and Quakers, where both parties are of the same persuasion. Prior to the passing of the 260. 2, c. 33. (the Marriage Act of 1754) the publication of banns was merely an ecclesiastical regulation, adopted for the purpose of ascertaining whether the persons about to be married were free from all lawful impediments.

But that statute renders the ceremonial of banns indispensable, in all cases in which a licence is not obtained. Persons not married by banns must be married by licence, and marriage licences are either common or special. A common license is a dispensation, by virtue of which marriage is allowed to be solemnized in a church or chapel without the publication of banns. A special license dispenses with the banns, and also with time and place. The same form is used in granting the one as the other, the only material difference consisting in the additional words introduced into the special license permitting the marriage to be solemnized, "at any time, in any church or chapel, or other meet or convenient place."

Special licenses are restricted to persons of condition: indeed, a regulation, dated Jan. 15, 1759, was made by Archbishop Secker, ordaining that such licenses should only be granted to peers or peeresses in their own right, their sons and daughters, dowager peeresses, privy councellors, the judges of Westminster-hall, baronets, knights, and members of Parliament. But, notwithstanding this regulation, it has been usual for the Archbishop of Canterbury to grant occasional favours beyond these limits.-Brady and Mahon's Diction ary of Parochial Law and Taxation, (just published).

MAN.-The mind is the man; and the knowledge of the mind. A man is but what he knoweth. The sovereignty of man lieth hid in knowledge, wherein many things are reserved, which kings with their treasures cannot buy, nor with their forces command.-Bacon.

A List of New and Interesting Works, Illustrated by MR.
CRUIKSHANK, and Published by W. KIDD, 14, Chandos Street,
West Strand.-Agents: ADAM BLACK, Edinburgh, and W. F.
WAKEMAN, Dublin.


What a monstrous thing to have so many and kind correspondents, and yet to be forced to say that the limits of our paper will not allow us to answer them separately! To private communications we answer of course; to the others we say, that they, the writers, must make all the kindest construction of us in the world, at the very time we are seeming inattentive. But we are not so in spirit.

To the question whether contributions are desired, we answer Yes.

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In offering this Library to the British public, the Proprietors beg to remark that they have been induced to enter upon its publication partly in consequence of the extraordinary success which has attended the "Bibliotheque," published by the above celebrated in France, but principally from the conviction of the necessity of a similar work in England. Knowledge has been called the key-stone of the arch of civilization; up to a late period it has been but too much defaced by technicality, and the difficulties which attended its acquisition. It was the desire of relieving science from their encumbrances that Dr. Arnott, Mr. Babbage, and a host of other learned and excellent men, commenced their labours; and it is a humble but honest helpmate in the same vineyard, that "The Library of Popular Instruction" begins its career.

In the course of their publication, the Proprietors intend to draw largely from the parent stock, the "Bibliotheque Populaire." A literal translation of this work would be inexpedient, because of its purely national character, and because also of the different opinions entertained on particular points by the learned of both countries. On some subjects, as geology, zoology, &c., entirely new treatises will be written. In that of zoology, for instance, the principles of the sciences will be first explained, and then again illustrated by reference to the history and habits of animals, in the hope that, by mixing the "dulce et utile," the subject will be divested of its dryness, and rendered more inviting and easy of comprehension.

"The Popular Library of Instruction" will be published regularly on the 1st of every Month, at 6d. each Vol.

Published by Sparrow and Co., at the Bell's Weekly Magazine Office, 11 Crane-court, Fleet-street.

THE NEW RUSSIAN NOVEL.-In 3 vols. post 8vo. YOUNG MUSCOVITE. Edited by CAPTAIN CHAMIER, R. N., &c. "A striking and lively picture of the habits and manners, national and domestic, of a people with whom we are far from being familiar."-Athenæum.


"A welcome and interesting stranger."-Literary Gazette.

Cochrane and M'Crone, 11, Waterloo-place.


"An admirable work, containing fun sufficient to elicit shouts
of laughter from the strictest Puritan that ever lived. Even Sr.
AGNEW and his twin-brother, SPENCER PERCEVAL, must trem-
ble at so formidable an antagonist as the immortal CRUIKSHANK
-the GIANT of FUN."-Chronicle.

*** A few copies of CRUIKSHANK "AT HOME," First Series,
are still on hand, for which early application should be made.


(A companion to "Hood's Epping Hunt.")- With Seven
Engravings on Wood, price ls. 6d.

With numerous Engravings, price ls. 6d.
"We most earnestly recommend this little work to hypochon.
driacs, and those who require fun at a cheap rate. The Engrav-
ings are humourous in the extreme."-Sunday Times.

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With Fifteen Engravings by CRUIKSHANK, price 2s. 6d.
"A work exciting the most intense interest on matters grossly
misrepresented and little understood. The Illustrations are but
too faithful pictures of the parties they represent."-Standard.


In a Series of Eighteen Engravings on Wood, price 3s.
This work should find a place on the table of Every Eng-
lishman. It holds up the dealers in the "black art" to well
merited contempt; not, however, without exciting roars of

"We do not envy the man that could look on this little work
unmoved. It would unnerve a stoic !"-Chronicle.


With numerous Engravings, price 2s.
"Every householder should buy this book. It proves to a de-
monstation the great utility of this army of soldiers, whilst the
Engravings serve to perpetuate their grand achievements!”—
True Sun.

Vol. III. With numerous Engravings, price, handsomely
bound, 10s.

"A most suitable ornament for the drawing-room table."-
A few complete sets of this work, in 3 vols. may still be had.


completed in twelve monthly Parts.)


LLUSTRATIONS OF THE BIBLE, By R. Westall, Esq. R. A. and J. Martin, Esq. the distinguished Painter of Belshazzar's Feast, from original paintings made expressly for this work; accompanied with descriptions by the Rev. Hobart Caunter, B. D.








THE ASSUAGING OF THE WATERS Westall. HAGAR AND ISHMAEL Westall. Besides the Octavo, a Royal Quarto Edition is published, price 2s. 6d. The former is intended for binding up with the Octavo, and all the smaller sizes of the Bible; the latter will serve for all other sizes, from the Octavo to the largest Quarto. BULL and CHURTON, 26, Holles Street, London, and sold by all Booksellers and Newsmen in the United Kingdom.

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New Edition, price 1s. 6d.


System of Teaching Children to read without Spelling.
With an Itroductory Address to Parents and Teachers.

"This excellent little work shows the possibility of teaching children to read without their being previously harrassed by all the barbarous anomalies to be found in the orthography of our language. Its principles are so clear, that we may well be surprised at the length of time during which the spelling system has held undisputed sway. Sure we are that the plan here proposed would combine ease to the teacher with pleasure to the child; while the old system is unmitigated pain both to one and the other."-thenæum.

BULL and CHURTON, 26, Holles Street, London, and sold by all Booksellers and Newsmen in the United Kingdom,

Just published, in three vols. post 8vo.


AKANNA; OR, THE LAND OF THE SAVAGE. "One of the most interesting and graphic romances that it has been our lot to read for many a year."-Athenæum. "His pictures of the scenery of Africa are vivid and uniquehis eloquent delineations of individual character are life-like and philosophical."-Atlas.

"He is as much at home on the ocean-and there are many scenes on ship board equal to the best of the great sea lord, the author of the Spy."-New Monthly Magazine.

London: Simpkin and Marshall; Dublin, Mr. Wakeman Edinburgh, Messrs. Oliver and Boyd; and supplied by a Booksellers.

On the 1st. of March was published,

By CHARLES KNIGHT, 22, Ludgate Street,



Price Fourpence.
On the 1st of April was published, Price 1s. 6d., THE MONTHLY
PART, containing 36 pages of Music, sewed in a Wrapper.
The following Compositions will form the CONTENTS OF THE
Overture to La Clemenza di Tito..
New Notturno, for Pianoforte and Flute, or for
three hands on the Pianoforte.....
Overture to the Occasional Oratorio, newly
Minuet and Trio, from a grand Symphony new-
ly arranged.




Madrigal, four Voices, 'Awake, sweet love,' with
an ad libitum Pianoforte accompaniment.... DOWLAND
Canzonet, Forgive me,' never before published
in England..


Do. do. do. "The Seaman's Grave'.



do. 'Come opprima un gran contento' RIGHINI do. The Kiss, dear Maid!'. MENDELSSOHU do. Toll the Knell' (from Mahmoud) STORACE Glee, two Sopranos and a Base, 'Forgive, blest shade,' with an ad libitum Pianoforte accompaniment added for this Work Sirens' Duet, Two Daughters of this aged Stream' Song, How deep the slumber of the Floods'.. LOWE. On the 5th of April will also be published, Price Cd, sewed in a Wrapper, to be continued Monthly, SUPPLEMENT TO THE MUSICAL LIBRARY,



No. 1.

This Supplementary Work may be purchased independently of the MUSICAL LIBRARY, which will be complete in itself; but it will form a valuable addition to that publication. It will consist of twelve folio pages of letter-press, comprising Musical News, foreign and domestic; Reviews of important new Musical Publications; with Memoirs of the Lives, and Remarks upon the Works, of eminent Composers, and especially of the Authors whose productions are published in the Musical Library.' Orders are received by all Booksellers, and Wholesale by the Agents of the Penny Magazine.'

Just published, 4to. Frice 9s. 6d. boards.


By D'ISRAELI, the Younger.


8vo. Price 9s, boards.

Including, among others, Letters to Francis Horner, Horne
Tooke, and Sir James Mackintosh.

Price 5s. cloth.
Edward Moxon, Dover Street.

To be published by Subscription, in Three Volumes, Post Octavo
Price One Guinea and a Half.
Dedicated (by permission) to the King.


LISHED MISCELLANIES OF JOHN GALT. This work will contain, in the Biographical part, an account of the origin and circumstances attending the conception and publication of the Author's separate productions, with various Literary Anecdotes. The Miscellanies will consist of Tales in the Scottish, English, and American dialects, with Essays on different subjects; also, various Schemes and Suggestions for Public Improvements, and Poems composed since the indisposition of Author; together with a History of the Seven Years' War, some.. what similar in design to Schiller's Sketch of the Thirty Years' War. Subscriptions will be received by Messrs. Longman and Co., London; Mr. Blackwood, Edinburgh; and all Booksellers. Subscribers are requested to write their names and address clearly, as they will be published with the work.

Just published, only 2s. 6d. India Proofs, 5s. No. 8, Vol. 2, of


Containing :-TENIERS, Striking a Bargain. LEONARDO DA VINCI, Christ disputing with the Doctors. MEIRIS, a Dutch Ale House.

Four more numbers will conclude this interesting and spi rited periodical; and taking into account its very moderate price, the admirable fidelity of its graphic transcripts, and the frauk, fearless, and con amore tone of its letter-prss, we have no doubt of its ultimate station in public opinion becoming a proud one. The subjects for the present No. are from Teniers, Leonardo Da Vinci, and Mieris. The second ranks far above the first and third in dignity of subject, and will doubtless be familar to most, from prior engravings: but we prefer those from Teniers and Mieris; which are delightful, however undignified, from their homely truth to nature, simplicity of design, and unity of effect. Nature, no less than wisdom, is justified of her children."Ipswich Journal, April 4th, 1834.

Vol. I. with 36 line engravings, and 200 pages of letter-press super royal 8vo. may now be had, price 36s, elegantly bound, in morocco cloth, on large paper, India proofs, 4. 10s. JOHN MAJOR, 50 Fleet Street, and may be had of all Booksellers,

LONDON: Printed and Published by SPARROW and Co., at The Bell's Weekly Magazine Office, 11, Crane Court, Fleet Street. WEST-END AGENT-J. C. Picken, 13, King William Stree West Strand. The Monthly Parts of this work will be sup. plied to the Country Trade by Simpkin and Marshall, Stati. oners' Court, Ludgate Hill.

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