of the customs of the country, and respectfully accosted the fair stranger, and she herself, when she gave him a hearty welcome. They chatted for a long while together, on subjects which were in all probability more interesting to themselves, than they would be to the reader. Eugene was a traveller, a soldier, and a man of the world, and therefore was not at a loss to render himself agreeable. While Mimili spoke with a bewitching though sometimes a child-like simplicity, at others she would express herself with the fluency and elegance of a well-bred and accomplished lady. Her words, as they flowed from her rosy lips, sounded more sweetly to his ear, and thrilled in his heart, than any he had ever yet listened to. In a short time, they became as familiar as they would, had they been in this country, after a twelvemonth's courtship. "What is your name, enchanting girl," exclaimed Eugene. "Father calls me love, but the neighbours Mimili." Having made her acquainted with his name and profession, she invited him to spend the evening with her father, whose heart, and what was more, his doors, were always open for a soldier's welcome. What in the world could you refuse to such a girl! how was it possible, therefore, that he could deny her. So, consenting to her offer, she took his arm, and led the way to her father's dwelling, who, upon a very unceremonious introduction, seized Eugene's hand, and bestowed on it a squeeze, which, if its sincerity may be judged from its fervour, one might suppose was really a very friendly one. So much so, that the young gentleman thought, that although he was seized, according to the description of Mimili, by an iudividual who was the incorporation of all the cardinal virtues, he at the moment considered he was under the influence of a powerful vice. At her father's request, Mimili covered the table with an excellent supper, together with a liberal portion of wine. The old gentleman seemed so enthusiastic an adherent to the cause of his country, that with the assistance of Eugene, the bottles were more than once emptied and replenished in wishing it success, and bestowing on it a variety of the most loyal and cordial sentiments, till, for reasons best known to himself, he thought it most prudent to retire, giving the young people a hint, not to be too long in following. "What," says our traveller, in a tone which was difficult to tell whether he was in earnest or in jest, "you do not intend, do you, to trust your daughter with me alone?" The happy father smiled, and said, "The man that has served his King, and bled for the honour of his country, is a safe guardian for a woman's honour!" Was not this appeal more home-thrusting than the most eloquent harangue, or the most pathetic remonstrance to a soldiers breast? It was a warm but delicious evening. The dewy balm that floated in the air and covered the flowers, in some degree cooled the tem perature of Eugene's blood, which the effect of the wine had rendered more than usually warm. The wind gently kissed the trees, and nothing was heard but the sound of their own footsteps, and the roaring of the distant cascades. Mimili's form floated through the air, and bounded among the shrubs, like a chamois on its native mountains. As if influenced by the gaiety of the moment, she became a lively and frolicsome romp. At this instant the effects of the wine made Eugene forgetful of the old man's parting injunction; indeed, one might have fancied he had never paid any attention to it at all. For Mimili caught hold of his hands, and pressing them to her bosom, she said, in a tone that might have melted the rock they were standing on, "Don't forget yourself, I am but a weak girl, who my father has trusted with a brave heart and a strong arm.' She lifted her large blue eyes upwards, and then shot him a glance so full of tenderness and confidence, that had more effect upon him than a chapter of Plato, or the best sermon that ever was preached on morality. The self-denial that that glance occasioned, was sufficient to qualify him for a place in the next edition of Fox's Book of Martyrs. Mimili then thought it high time to retire; and after showing her gallant guest into his chamber, wished him farewell for the night, after extorting from him, merely for her futher's sake, not to leave them till the morning. When the morning came, Mimili invited him to breakfast. They determined on taking their morning repast at the front of the house: the table was accordingly laid out there, and Eugene thought he never drank such delicious coffee as that which Memili's hands had prepared. While they were yet enjoying their meal, the appearance of Mimili, as frolicksome as one of her own kids, or else the savour of the breakfast table, called forth the whole of her subjects, cocks, hens, turkeys, geese, (the latter are generally among the train of a pretty woman's adorers) pigeons, and ducks of all sizes and colours. At the sight of their favourite, they gobbled, cackled, cooed and crowed with delight, hardly giving themselves time to swallow the grain her small white hand so bountifully distributed. The ducks waddled as far as their fat would let them to her side, while the cocks and hens recounted all that had happened in the farm-yard during the previous 24 hours. Mimili did not seem the least delighted; she had such a kind word for each, that Eugene would willingly have transformed himself into a bantom-cock for the sake of being so endearingly addressed. While the old man's eyes in silent rapture hung, upon his child. Independent of feeding poultry with such a grace, Mimili could dance, sing, and playdivinely, and had, moreover, received a very superior education. Thus attacked both mentally and corporeally, it was no wonder that Eugene's heart surrendered; he be came violently attached, and determined to sacrifice the opinion of the world and make the lovely girl his wife. He had from her met with so many repeated proofs of affectionate regard, that he doubted not of her unqualified consent; the only difficulty was to obtain the old man's, who would not like to lose the society of his only child, and go down the hill of life unattended by her whom he had led up. "Why look ye, sir," said the old man, when he made the proposal, "I have not yet known you a week, but hang me if I think there's a honester fellow breathing. Give me your hand; I know well the jade has no dislike for you. My girl's no fool, depend upon it; she knows a wellbred soldier from a country clod-hopper. And although I have thought what a dear thing it would be to have my declining years tended by my sweet girl-d- these tears, what do they want here?--and although you destroy that hope, the girl is your's- But stop-not yet. You are both of you as yet young your acquaintance is but short: your attachment may not be as permanent as it is violent. Therefore my resolution is, that you shall not be man and wife till this day twelvemonth." It would be worth a physiognomist's attention to examine the face of the traveller when he thus heard his sentence pronounced. One would think, by its length, his muscles must have been very elastic. All his intreaties and logic were thrown away; he found the old man quite inexorable. As for Mimili, she declared herself quite resigned to the will of her father, although her blue eyes neither looked so brilliant nor her face so gay, and although she coincided with Eugene, that a "twelvemonth was a long while." It was not the waiting all this time that made Eugene low-spirited; he had other causes. God knows, says he, what may transpire during this year of probation. Suppose some Swiss bumpkin, with as much money as I have impudence, with as good a fortune as my appetite, during the mean time, should offer himself, faith! I shall stand but a poor chance with the old man, with all his friendship and fellow-feeling. (To be concluded in our next.) THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. (Said to be founded on facts.) SINCE the unlucky expiration of the statute against witchcraft, at a time when the infidelity of the age would not hear of its revival, and the general discountenance of the equitable trial by water-ordeal of persons suspected of that wickedness, diabolic sorcerers are reported to have sprung up again in several parts of England, and particularly in that county whose soil used best to agree with them; of which such as doubt may peruse, if they are so disposed, the subsequent narrative: The rider of a London shop-keeper, who was some time ago dispatched into the coun try for orders, falling late into a village in Lancashire, where he intended to quarter that night, met a Scottish pedlar coming out of it, as if just entering on his journey. The rider enquired, what induced him to travel by night, and whether he had any reason for quitting, so untimely, a town in which he himself purposed to lodge. Enter not, says the pedlar, (after surveying him with disordered looks) approach not that accursed place, where I have been imprisoned this inonth by sorcery, and from which I am now making my escape. The curiosity of the Londoner being alarmed, he, with the ut most civility, requested of the other to give him some information in what his own safety might be so nearly concerned; and finding him continue his pace onward, he turned his horse's head and accompanied him. He gathered ere long from the Scotsman, that he had been fascinated (to the ruin of his affairs) by a potent witch in that town, who detained him there to satisfy her lascivious desires, and had threatened his life if he attempted to leave her: he related many incredible actions of hers, and confessed. that she was to him very desirable, though both old and ugly. After that assertion (replies the Englishman, smiling) you need produce no proof of the witchcraft of your mistress; but let me prevail on you not to prosecute your journey this untoward evening; let us both, on the contrary, venture to return to the formidable village; where I, who fear not witches nor wizards, will take you under protection to-night, and help you too, far on your way to-morrow, by adopting a Prussian manoeuvre, called among us ride-and-tye. These persuasives were so opportunely seconded by a rising storm, that the North-Briton, however reluctant, complied. They repaired to the better inn of the town, bespoke a good supper, drank plentifully of wine, and lay, for security, not only in the same bed-chamber, but in the same bed too. The sweet laudanum of the grape soon closed the eyes of the travellers; but those of the Soutli-Briton were presently unsealed by an influx of sudden liglit; when, looking up, he sees (with surprise and terror) two old women seated on the bed, one of whom holds a candle and a bowl, the other a butcher's knife and a sponge. And this, sister, (says the hag with the naked knife) pointing to the pedlar, is my false love, who has determined to abandon me; and there lies staring his adviser and guardian, whom I shall make repent of his officiousness and incredulity. The witches immediately seized the Scot, who continued fast asleep, and cut his throat from ear to ear, receiving every drop of blood in the bowl; afterward they stopped the wide gash with the sponge, which they together thrice adjured to beware of water, and then disappeared. As soon as the surviving tradesman was in a condition to make use of his senses, he became aware of, the desperate situation he was in his fellow-traveller would be found murdered by his side, and who could believe his true account of the bloody transaction? He resolved therefore to quit the inn before light, and called for his horse to be made ready; but fainted away, on being told by the hostler that his wanting to go at that time looked very suspicious; how did he know that he had not cut his bed-fellow's throat? When the unhappy rider recovered, he summoned all his fortitude, and passed the remains of the horrid night in trying, in vain, to reconcile himself to the ignominious death that impended over his innocence, It was broad day, and the hostler knocked at the chamber-door to tell him that his horse was now saddled; but as he was incapable of answering, the fellow continued thundering so long, that at last the pedlar started up, and cursed him heartily for awaking him out of the soundest sleep he ever enjoyed. His astonished and overjoyed companion runs to the bed, and drawing rapidly the curtains, surveys him with eager eyes, and beholds him whole and well, without any appearance of a wound, of a scar, or a sponge. The two travellers then agreed to take the advantage of the morning, and to proceed directly on their way; and the pedlar mounted the horse the first, consonantly to the rules of good-breeding. When the rider (no rider then) came up to his horse, he found his chum with it, having some bread and cheese (taken out of his pack) before him, and a spring of transparent water in view. He acceded to the invitation; and in breakfasting told his companion, he had last night had the most terrible dream he ever experienced: and I (returns the other in hasty interruption) have had no pleasant one, for I dreamt my throat was cut; however, will you pledge me, (continues he) for want of better liquor, in this salubrious stream? and, so saying, dips his cann in the spring; but (O horrible aud unutterable!) the poor pedlar had no Sooner swallowed one gulp of the fatal water, than the magic sponge dropt out, the gaping wound in his throat disclosed itself, and he fell down a lurid corpse at the feet of his petrified friend. The survivor could contrive nothing better, for himself and the deceased, than to bury him secretly in a wood that grew near: where, when accident shall discover, some twenty years hence, this skeleton, the zealots for justice may possibly (let the supposition not prove prophetic!) substitute an insititious convict in the room of the murderous witches, whose power, great as their wickedness, will doubtless keep them undiscovered and unsuspected. STOMACHIC TIME-PIECE. "The time for the rich to eat," said a Turkish physician, "is when they are hungry; and for the poor, when they have an thing to eat." HOGARTH AND HIS MERRY (Concluded from p. 184.) AFTER this we left the Swans, and went to see to the washing of our shirts up town. They having had no time to dry, we took them wet, and got them dried and ironed at the next town. At ten we left Queenborough; the morning delightful, the country pleasant, through which we agreeably passed up to the Minster, a little village ou the highest part of the island. We laboured hard in climbing the hill to the church-yard, it being very steep. We saw there, on a wooden rail over a grave, this epitaph : "Here Interrd Geo. Anderson doth lye, Our landlord at the George got us the church key; we entered, and saw Lord Cheyne's monument, the Spanish ambassador's, and that of Lord Shoreland. (No. 7th, a horizontal figure at full length, being the ambassador's effigy, drawn by Mr. Scott,) Hogarth drew Lord Shoreland (No. 8th, a horizontal one, face at the right, as was the other at the left hand, a horse's head and a backbone at the feet.) Here is related a long story of Lord Shoreland's meeting a crowd in the church-yard about a priest who refused burying a corpse without payment of the fee, which provoked his honour so much, that he bid the mob throw the priest into the grave alive, and bury him, which they did. Lord Shoreland, fearing punishment of the law for this action, and Queen Elizabeth being then on board ship at the Nore, when our fleet went out to oppose the Spanish armada, he swam to her ship, and presented a petition for pardon. She read it at the ship's side, and granted it. He then swam back to Sheppy Island, landed, and being told by an old woman that still his horse should be his death, to prevent it, he drew his sword and killed the poor animal; the horse became a skeleton, being thrown by the waves to and fro the shore. Some years after, my lord, with his friends, walking on the shore, espied the skull, bones, and remains of the horse, related the story of the old woman, happened to kick the skull, and so hurt one of his toes that it mortified and killed him. This account is so firmly believed here, that a very fine gilt horse's head is placed as a weathercock on the churchsteeple, and the figure of a horse on the spindle over that weathercock. We dined at the George, stayed till four, then left Minster, and walked to Sheerness, hired a bumboat, and at five set sail for Gravesend. The wind blew a fresh gale at E. by S. Scott grew very sea-sick, and did what was natural in such cases. Soon after, Hogarth grew sick and uneasy, which aug mented by our stopping; and Tothall went on board Captain Robinson's, one of the custom-house sloops, riding in Holy Haven, who furnished him with some milk punch, and us with fire to light our pipes, which was greatly wanted. It rained hard all the voyage. Porpoises were rolling in pursuit. of prey, and one got so near the shore, as made us think he would stay there, but he got off again. About seven of our sick passengers being recovered we sailed merrily, and sang Sir John Pishoken, and several other songs and tunes ourselves, and our cockswain sung us several sailors' songs. But our notes were soon changed by our vessel running on the Blye sand, where she stuck fast, although we were almost in the middle of the channel. It was then tide of ebb, and wanting an hour of flood, which gave us some concern, believing we should be forced to continue there some time, and bear the beating of the winds and waves. But, by the industry of the sailors, and Tothall's assisting skill, we got off in a short time, though with some difficulty; and the wind proving favourable, arrived at Gravesend at ten. We supped and drank good wine, and imagined all our adventures and mirth ended. It happened, however, that a great coat which Scott had borrowed for this expedition, and left at Gravesend, travelling without it, could not on our arrival be found. This, which was grief to him, was sport to us; but he soon surmounted his uneasiness, and grew as merry as we were. Thus we continued till pretty late, and then went to bed. Wednesday at eight o'clock arose, breakfasted, walked about the town, and at ten went into a boat we had hired, with a truss of clean straw, a bottle of good wine, pipes, tobacco, and a match. The wind favourable, a mackerel gale at S. E. Our passage was very pleasant, till we came to Erith reach, when Scott being without his great coat, as aforesaid, taking a drawing of some shipping, a flurry of wind caused our vessel to ship a sea, which washed him from head to foot, and no one else. He got up in great surprise, and drawing the foresail of his shirt from his breeches, which were also well soused with salt water, he held it in both his hands to the windward, and the sun shining warm, he was soon dry, and recovering his surprise, joined us in laughing at the accident. We came merrily up the river, and quitting out boat at Billingsgate, got into a wherry, that carried us through bridge, and landed us at Somerset water-gate, from whence we walked altogether, and arrived, at two, at the Bedford Arms, Covent Garden, in the same good humour as when we left it to set out on this pleasant expedition. I cannot conclude better, than to note that not one of the company was unemployed; for Mr. Thornhill made a coloured map (No. 9); Mr. Hogarth and Mr. Scott all the other drawings; Mr. Tothall was treasurer, and, though of great trust, he THE BROKEN HEART. ABOUT this time Singleton received a letter from his father, containing the melancholy intelligence of his being confined to his chamber by a serious illness, and requiring his immediate attendance in town. He parted from Rosalie with the greatest regret asked and obtained permission to write. Some months, however, elapsed without her seeing or hearing from hini. Every excuse that partiality could suggest she found in his favour, but she had too soon more convincing proofs of his neglect and desertion than either his protracted absence or silence. She received from him a letter couched in such language, that too plainly indicated that he had cancelled for ever their acquaintance of two years' standing; the greater part of which he had employed in the most earnest endeavours to convince her that his heart and affections were solely hers. In a strain of levity that was repulsive to Rosalie's virtuous feelings, he ridiculed marriage, and concluded by assuring her that it would be many-many years before any one should prevail on him to think of it seriously. Never after the receipt of this cruel letter was Rosalie's sweet face illumined by a smile; for ever banished were those fascinating rays that were wont to flit across her mautling cheek, and add a tenfold radiance to her fine expressive eye. She would sit for hours by the side of a rose-bush that Singleton had planted, and water its tender uprearing branches with her plenteous tears: then suddenly would she cast her humid eyes towards heaven, with a look so mildly resigned, so contentedly pensive, that it were impossible for the sternest heart to behold her without feeling a sentiment of pity and sympathy for her unmerited sufferings. In my opinion, the cruelest action that a man can be guilty of, is the robbing an innocent and too susceptible creature of her affections, with no other design than to gratify his own inordinate vanity. Although the laws of his country take no cognizance of the fraud, its barbarity is not in the least diminished. How despicable among the female sex is the character of a jilt! yet men feel not the pangs of disappointed love half so severely as they do. Men, from supposed superiority of reason, can resent the injury, or from multiplicity and variety of employments, forget the trifler who inflicted it; but with them it is far otherwise; they have none of those occupations to call off their attention from disappointinents, and, generally speaking, no lasting resentment in their natures against him who has betrayed them. The majority of the gentlemen of the present day, imagine that it is a most material branch of politeness to fall desperately in love with every pretty woman they meet; but in so doing, they are not aware of the misery they too often inflict. Let every gentleman possessed of real accomplishments, who has no serious design upon the heart of a woman, avoid being particular either in conversation, or in the civil offices that politeness and good breeding demand, and he will prevent many a silent pang-many a stifled sigh. I am convinced that it is from a contrary behaviour, that many a lovely and worthy young creature is hurried to a premature grave, by a disease that would defy the skill even of an Esculapius himself—A BROKEN HEART! THE FAMILY PHYSICIAN AND DOMESTIC GUIDE.-No. III. COLIC. THE different kinds of colic are named after their causes. Thus we have the bilious colic, the flatulent colic, the hysteric colic, the nervous colic; and when it is accompanied with febrile symptoms, such as heat, thirst, quick pulse, and other signs of inflammation, it is denominated inflummatory colic. But first, of BILIOUS COLIC. patient about the present season of the year, This species of colic usually attacks the taste in the mouth, quickly followed by voand it is distinguished by a bad and bitter miting, which is often very excessive. There is also a great degree of heat, and a circumscribed pain about the navel. Sometimes very the abdomen, and now and then a retention severe and excruciating pains are felt all over of urine. Costiveness generally attends, and a troublesome hoarseness often continues throughout the whole course of the disease. If the patient has youth and strength in his favour, and a strong full pulse, repeated bleedings will be necessary, the constipation of the bowels must be relieved, and for this purpose fifteen or twenty grains of the compound extract of bitter apple, divided into four pills, may be taken. Emollient and opening clysters must be given frequently; and if these do not speedily relieve, the patient must be put into a warm bath. Saline draughts are of much use in this disorder, and may be taken almost throughout the whole disease. The following plan of making a saline effervescing draught will be found mix, and then add a table-spoonful of lemon juice, and take it during the effervescence every hour if needful. The vomiting in this colic is often exceedingly obstinate and distressing, and unfortunately it will sometimes increase as the disease advances. When this happens, five or six drops of laudanum may be added to each effervescing draught, and repeated three or four times a day, but in no disease ought we to venture on the use of laudanum. If the bowels remain in a state of constipation, these demand our primary attention. The drink of the patient may be thin and weak broths, gruel and whey; warm water may be drank plentifully with great benefit; all malt liquors should be avoided, and the diet, if the patient can take any, must be light and easy of digestion. (Flatulent Colic in our next.) W. B. |