At Glocester observe the whispering place in the cathedral. At Oxford see all the colleges, and their libraries, the schools, and public library, and the physic garden. Buy there knives and gloves, especially white kid-skin; and the cuts of all the colleges graved by Loggins. If you go into the north, see the Peak in Derbyshire, described by Hobbs in a Latin poem, called Mirabilia Pecci.' Home-made drinks of England are beer and ale, strong and small; those of most note, that are to be sold, are Lambeth ale, Margaret ale, and Derby ale; Hertfordshire cider, perry, mede. There are also several sorts of compounded ales, as cockale, wormwood-ale, scurvygrass-ale, lemon-ale, college-ale, &c. These are to be had at Hercules Pillars, near the Temple; at the Trumpet, and other houses in Sheer Lane, Bell Alley, and, as I remember, at the English Tavern, near Charing Cross. Foreign drinks to be found in Foreign drinks to be found in England are all sorts of Spanish, Greek, Italian, Rhenish, and other wines, which are to be got up and down at several taverns. Coffee and chocolate, at coffee-houses. Mum at the mum houses, and other places; and Molly, a drink of Barbadoes, by chance at some Barbadoes merchants. Punch, a compounded drink, on board some West India ships and Turkish sherbet amongst the merchants. Manufactures of cloth that will keep out rain; flannel, knives, locks and keys; scabbards for swords; several things wrought in steel, as little boxes, heads for canes, boots, riding-whips, Rippon spurs, saddles, THE COLISEUM AND OMNIUM. As though the immatured inventions and inconvenient practices of antiquity were to take place of the whole mass of wisdom and improvement so laboriously pursued and tenaciously preferred, to all that our forefathers in the early ages had devised, that, which of itself is simply a rotunda, is to bear the name of that gigantic building in Rome to which it bears no similitude, either in form, size, or object, and a 'leathern convenience,' constructed, it appears, to facilitate the migration of wonder-mongers to this eighth wonder of the world, is 'yclept 'Omnibus!' which, if it signify anything with regard to its occupants, must operate very much to the discredit of those who would be thought to mix with none but the best society. That this may be drawn as classically as it named, three horses are harnessed abreast, after the good old fashion of the times when a victorious general drove into his country's capital with kings in chains, and citizens destined for slavery or immolation. Quære 1st.-Are we inferior to the ancients in judgment and invention? 2ndly-Should we attempt to increase the reputation of a good thing by giving to it the name of that which is totally different or inferior? 3dly-If the epithet is used with relation to its magnitude, is there no erection in this city more worthy of it? TRANSLATION OF THE BRITISH POETS. The British Poets of the nineteenth century have been published in Germany, including the entire works of the most celebrated; and copious selections from the Mirror. -A taste for English literature has long existed in Austria and the German states. The language of a nation is gene Majesty has made me too great for my house.' Original Poetry. PRIDE AND GLORY. Human pride and human glory, Is quench'd by Death's unerring aim; rally characteristic of its habits-Fraught with endless hopes and fears, thus, the French, have no equivalent Till at last the vital flame for our words 'home, comfort, &c.' and the English have been compelled to borrow the words 'intrigue, caprice, double entendre,' and many others unknown to John Bull in his unsophisticated state. An ignorant person in writing to his gouty friend, concluded with'this leaves me hopping, &c. To which his friend replied, in the true spirit of the gout,-Yours found me just as it left you-hopping.' Frances Theresa Stuart, Duchess of Richmond, was so idolized by Charles II., that he made her the subject of a gold medal, in which she was represented in the character of Minerva. This was afterwards imitated on the copper coin of the realm, and has continued so to the present time. From the corse of Human Pride. Shall Fame's loud trumpet lead the way, Then will take a glorious part. What is man? and what is life? T.J.O. NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. The tale by a Half-pay Officer, appears to be too long for insertion. Jota is rather too amorous. A Notice of the Association for preventing the sweeping of Chimnies by climbing Boys, will appear in our next. sertion, and, we fear, not adapted to our The Dramatic Poem is too long for inpages; we are, nevertheless, obliged to A. C. C. for his communications. The suggestions of R. S. is not practicable at present-when an opportunity occurs we shall avail ourselves of them. PRINTED AND published (FOR THE PROPRIETOR), BY J, Duncombe, 19 LITTLE QUEEN STREET HOLBORN: Where all Communications (post-paid) for the Editor, are requested to be addressed; also by Sherwood, Gilbert, and Piper, Paternoster-row; Mac Phun, Glasgow, Sutherland, Edinburgh; and of all other Booksellers and Newsmen. OF AMUSEMENT AND INSTRUCTION IN History, Science, Literature, the Fine Arts, &c. ON the right-hand side of the little by-road which conducts the traveller from the famous bog of Monela to the northern range of the Sliew-bloom mountains, stands the uninhabited mansion of a gentleman named Fitzpatrick, who has, if we believe the neighbouring peasantry, a better apology than many of his country men for being an absentee. The history of his family, as related by the countrypeople, developes the superstitious notion respecting that harbinger of death-the Benshee. The Fitzpatricks of Ossory and the Ormonds of Kilkenny, were, for centuries, deadly foes. More than one of the illustrious house of Butler were prisoners* of their implacable enemies; and, in the No. 170.-3d. S. reign of Charles the First, the celebrated Duke of Ormond completely destroyed the power of the Fitzpatricks, and annexed Durrow, their patrimony, to his own possessions; since which time, that district, though nearly surrounded by the Queen's County, forms part of the county of Kilkenny. Some ages previous to this period, one of the Butlers having overrun Lower Ossory, and having slaughtered most of the inhabitants, the heir of the house of Fitzpatrick found refuge in the castle of O'More, the chieftain of Leix. There is an old painting in Trinity College, Dublin, representing the treacherous capture of a Duke of Ormond by the chieftain of Leix, the friend of the Fitzpatricks. The chivalrous spirit of the times inculcated such elevated notions of honour, that friendship and unlimited confidence were synonymous; while the man who was admitted a guest never had his actions regarded with suspicion. Treachery was out of the question-for justice was then so summary, that life was the immediate forfeit of an unworthy action. No wonder, then, that O'Moore took no precaution to prevent any improper intimacy between Fitz-. patrick and his only daughter-a lady who possessed, in an eminent degree, all those charms which superadd to the attractions of youth and beauty. The consequence of parental neglect on this occasion was fatal; and, as the story goes, continues yet to blast the happiness of one of the party. The chieftain's lovely daughter naturally attracted the attention of her father's guest, who was about her own age; and, as no restraint was placed upon their interviews, they soon learned to feel mutual happiness in each other's company.They were indiscreet and, to their horror, discovered that a knowledge of their criminal conduct must soon take place, as the daughter of the chieftain was pregnant. There remained for them no expectation of pardon; for they knew with O'More nothing could palliate their crime, and that the lives of both must fall a sacrifice to his wounded honour, unless they escaped from bis wrath. Under these circumstances, the lovers agreed to fly from Leix, and appointed an evening to meet at a lonely well, to arrange for their departure. The unhappy lady was punctual; but Fitzpatrick was perfidious; he met her at the well, and, while in the act of caressing her, plunged a dagger into her heart! She fell a corpse-her blood tinged the water of the spring, and the faithless lover returned undiscovered to the castleThe chieftain lamented the fate of his child, but never suspected his guest; and the heir of Ossory, for a time, encountered no reproof but that of his own guilty conscience. In a short time. Fitzpatrick was restored by O'More to his possessions in Ossory, where he married, and had a numerous offspring. For twenty years he carried in his bosom the assassin's secret, and the memory of his lovely victim had nearly been forgotten, when one night, as himself and his kerns, during an intestine war, were encamped not far from the fatal spot where he had committed murder, the awful and solemn cry of a benshee was heard to proceed from the well. The guilty chieftain started; but, as if impelled by some supernatural power, he walked towards the spring, and distinctly saw the victim of his treachery, in her ordinary dress of white, sitting beneath the tree that shaded the well, and wringing her hands as if in an agony of grief. He had scarcely gazed on her, when she arose, redoubled her cries, and seemed to approach the place where he stood. At this moment his fears appeared to have overcome him-and as he exclaimed, Pardon, oh! pardon your murderer!' the apparition gave a hoarse scream, and vanished, like a shadow of the moon, down the valley, still keeping up the cry of the benshee, which was distinctly heard for several minutes. It had scarcely ceased, when the sentinel gave the alarm of a sudden attack, and the O'Mores in an instant were in the camp of the Fitzpatricks.The battle was long and bloody; but, ere the morning sun arose, the heroes of Leix prevailed, and the chieftain of Ossory fell beneath the weapon of his old protector's son, confessing, ere he died, that his was the fatal hand by which the sister of the conqueror was slain. From this time the cry of the benshee was regularly heard at the fatal well, previous to the dissolution of any of the descendants of Fitzpatrick; and in time it became so notorious, that the spring acquired the appellation of the Benshee's Well,' a name which it yet retains. In one of the revolutions which this part of the country underwent, this branch of the Fitzpatricks were expelled from Ossory, and settled in the district of O'More, where their descendant, better than half a century ago, erected the mansion which is yet standing. This gentleman, as a necessary requisite to the retention of his property, had embraced the reformed religion; and as a Protestant is, in some measure, a negative Papist, he determined to disbelieve the superstitious, as well as the religious creed of his ancestors; but in nothing was he more positive than in the non-appearance of the Benshee. In vain the old retainers of his family alleged their having repeatedly heard the cry, and instanced the case of his father, who had expired in London on the very night it was last heard in Ireland. Still he was incredulous, and dared those who believed in the apparition to tell him when next the Benshee should be heard; for if she remained the usual time at the well, he would have an opportunity of seeing and hearing her, the distance not being quite a quarter of a mile. Years rolled on, and no Benshee was heard, when Fitzpatrick became confirmed in his incredulity, forget ful that none of his family had, during all this time, needed such a monitor. At length a favourite daughter fell suddenly ill, and the alarmed father fled himself, at twelve o'clock at night, for a physician. Returning with the doctor, he heard a sad and solemn cry proceed from the direction of the well, and thinking it a trick of some one to mock his incredulity, he hastened home, seized his pistols, and hurried alone to the fountain. Cautiously casting his eyes through an aperture of the shade that protected the water during the day from the sunbeams, he saw a female figure, dressed in white, sitting on the bank, and uttering a most melancholy cry. Enraged at what he thought an attempt to terrify himself, and possibly accelerate the death of his child, he cocked his pistol, aimed at the object, and fired, A scream of superhuman force and horror, that nearly froze the blood in his veins, instantly burst upon him; and as he turned to fly, the figure of the Benshee, all covered with blood, crossed his path, and continued, at intervals, to intercept him as he ran. When he reached home he rushed into his daughter's room, and on his entrance the sick girl screamed out, See, see! oh, see that beautiful lady, all covered with blood!" Where, oh! where?' demanded the father. In the window, sir,' replied the poor creature-oh! no, she's gone.' From that moment the patient, in spite of the doctor's skill, continued to grow worse, and next day, about twelve o'clock, she expired. On that evening, about twilight, as the afflicted father was pacing up and down one of the walks in his garden that overlooked the avenue, he was surprised at hearing a noise as if a coach and horses were coming up to the house. Casting his eyes over the hedge, he distinctly saw six black headless horses, driven by a headless coachman, drawing a hearse, which regularly stopped before the hall door, and to his amazement, a coffin was brought out, and placed upon it, when instantly the bloody |