Potter's letter re-appeared in Thursday's paper, with this "N. B. The person who took the house was a man of genteel appearance; said his name was William Nicholls; and directed letters to be left for him at the Bedford Coffee-house, Covent Garden." The secret history of the imposture was never discovered to the public, but it was rumored that the affair originated in a wager proposed by a well-known rakish nobleman, which had been accepted, and, to win the bet, he contrived and effected the mischievous trick. Within a week from the affair of the bottle conjuror, an advertisement proposed to rival his astonishing non-performance, by stating that there had lately arrived from Ethiopia "the most wonderful and surprising Doctor Benimbo Zimmampaango, dentist and body-surgeon to the emperor of Monomongi," who, among other surprising operations, proposed to perform the following: "He offers any one of the spectators, only to pull out his own eyes, which, as soon as he has done, the doctor will show them to any lady or gentleman then present, to convince them there is no cheat, and then replace them in the sockets as perfect and entire as ever." January 18. Samuel Bernard, one of the richest and most celebrated financiers of Europe, died in Paris, the 18th of January 1739, at the age of eighty-eight. He was an elder of the Protestant church of Charenton. By rendering great services to the court, he gained immense sums, and was created count of Coubert and a knight of St. Michel. His funeral procession equalled that of a prince in point of magnificence, and in the train of distinguished attendants. Bernard was a man of pleasantry. In his expiring moments, Languet, the rector of St. Sulpice, who was indefatigable in obtaining subscriptions for the building of his church, exhorted the dying man to contribute to the structure; "for," said he, "what do not they merit who are able to participate in the edification of the temple of the Lord?" Bernard, endeavouring 10 turn his head to the rector, said, "Hold up your hand, sir, or I shall see your cards. The rector Languet was an excellent parish priest, and incessantly devoted to the rebuilding of his church, for which purpose he turned every thing into money, and solicited subscriptions in all quarters. The Jansenists were jealous of his endervours and his success. On paying his duty to the archbishop of Paris, when that prelate took possession of the archbishopric, the rector was surprised to find that he had been accused of having carried on trade, for which the archbishop severely reproved him. Languet denied the charge. "Do not you sell ice?" said the Bishop. "Yes, my Lord: when the workmen I employ in building my church cannot work, in frosty weather, I make them break and pile up the ice, which I sell to furnish them with subsistence in these hard times." "Oh," said the prelate "I don't understand it in that manner, and you sell a great deal, I find." "Not so much as I should," said the good rector,“ if the Jansenists had not spread a report that my ice was warm. Forty years ago, six miles an hour was reckoned fair speed for a stage coach. In France, twenty years before, the travelling carriage was the waggon-like machine of wicker-work represented in the engraving, which is taken from a view on a high-road, published in the early part of the reign of Louis XVI., who came to the throne in 1774. There is no coach-box to this vehicle; the driver sits leisurely on one of the horses; his passengers, inside and outside, loll leisurely; and his horses drag leisurely. Instead of glasses there are leathern curtains, which unfurl from the top, and furl up, and flap when down, or wholly obscure the light. It is little better, and perhaps it moved only a little quicker, than a common stage-waggon. Our own stage-coaches in the time of George II. were scarcely of superior contrivances. When M. Sorbiere, a French man of letters, came to England, in the reign of Charles II., for the purpose of being introduced to the king, and visiting our most distinguished literary and scientific characters, he proceeded from the place of his landing to the metropolis, by a con veyance now used only by poor countrywomen, and foot-sore trampers. He says, "That I might not take post, or be obliged to use the stage-coach, I went from Dover to London in a waggon: 1 was drawn by six horses, one before another, and drove by a waggoner, who walked by the side of it. He was clothed in black, and appointed in all things like another St. George; he had a brave mounteror on his head, and was a merry fellow, fancied he made a figure, and seemed mightily pleased with himself high admira. of England: in compliment And thereto hath a troth as just Among the "noble authors" of his age, the Earl of Surrey stands pre-eminently first in rank. In his early youth he made the tour of Europe in the true spirit of chivalry, and by the caprice of Henry he was recalled from Italy, where he had engaged in tournament and song for love of a lady, the "fair Geraldine," whose identity has escaped discovery. He returned home the most elegant traveller, the most polite lover, the most learned nobleman, and the most accomplished gentleman of his age. Surrey's sonnets in praise of the lady of his love are intensely impassioned, and polished. English poetry, till refined by Surrey, degenerated into metrical chronicles or tasteless allegories. His love verses equal the best in our language; while in harmony of numbers, perspicuity of expression, and facility of phraseology, they approach so near the productions of our own age, as hardly to be believed the offspring of the reign of Henry VIII Waron perceives almost the ease and galantry of Waller in some of the following tanzas,― A PRAISE OF HIS LOVE. Wherein he reproveth them that compare Give place, ye lovers, here before I know she swore, with raging mind, That could have gone so near her heart Sun rises sets Twilight ends The gold crest sings. January 20. h. m. 546 7 47 John Howard, the philanthropist, died at Cherson, in Russia, on the 20th of January, 1790. He was born in 1726, and, devoting his life to active benevolence, made "a circumnavigation of charity," different countries, with a view to mitivisiting the prisons and lazarettoes of gate the hardships of the distressed. As a gratification to the curious, a gentleman obligingly communicates the following Original Letter from Mr. Howard. Cologn, August 4, 1770. I hope my dear Friend does not think any distance can make me forget the long friendship that has subsisted betwixt us. Little to entertain my friend, yet must tell him what a Rambler I am. When I left London last year for Leghorn I was so ill a-board that I crost into France, and went into Switzerland, so to Turin and the northern part of Italy. As winter travelling so bad in Italy I returned into France and went to Holland, and early in the Spring I sett out and visited the Another stanza closes this poem. Particulars respecting the Earl of Surrey and his works are in Warton's History of Euglish Poetry, 8vo. iii. 288; Walpole's Royal and Noble Authors by Park, 8vo. i. 255. & dish of Tea next Winter. I must conclude Fro Bruxelles, In Cateaton Street, Maxims, by Howard. for the convenience of others; the necessities of others; And even our necessities give way to the extremities of the poor. Sun rises Twilight ends The missel thrush, or mavis, sings. January 21. WINTER. Cottage Stories. Southern part of France and crost the The dame the winter night regales The children-silent all the while, And e'en repressed the laugh or smile- Till the old clock, that strikes unseen, The children steal away to bed Nor speak a word' but, still as sleep, A GHOST STORY. Clare. At a town in the west of England a club of twenty-four people assembled once a week to drink punch, smoke tobacco, and talk politics. Each member had his peculiar chair, and the president's was more exalted than the rest. It was a rule that if a member was absent his chair should remain vacant. One evening at the meeting of the club there was a vacant chair, which had remained empty for several nights. It belonged to a member who was believed to be in a dying state, and inquiries were naturally made after their associate. He lived in the adjoining house. A particular friend went himself to inquire for him, and reported to the club that he could not possibly survive the night. This dismal tidings threw a damp on the company. They took off their glasses without turning lively; they smoked, and still they were gloomy: all efforts to turn the conversation agreeably were ineffectual. At about midnight, the time when the club was usually most cheerful, a silence prevailed in the room, the door gently opened, and the form, in white, of the dying man, walked into the room, and took a seat in the accustomed chair. There it remained in silence, and in silence was gazed at. His appearance continued a sufficient time in the chair to convince all present of the reality of the vision. But they were in a state of awful astonishment. At length the apparition arose and stalked towards the door, opened it, as if living-went out, and closed the door afterwards. club, who was an apothecary, in the course of his practice attended an old woman, who gained her living by nursing sick persons. She was now ill herself, and, finding her end near at hand, she told the apothecary she could leave the world with a good conscience, except for one thing which lay on her mind.-" Do not you remember, sir," she said, "the poor gentleman whose ghost has been so much talked of? I was his nurse. The night he died I left the room for something I wanted-I am sure I had not been absent long; but, at my return, I found the bed without my patient. I knew he was delirious, and I feared that he had thrown himself out of the window. I was so frightened that I had no power to stir : but after some time, to my great astonishment, he came back shivering, with his teeth chattering, and laid down on the bed, and died. Considering I had done wrong by leaving him, I kept it a secret that he had left the room; and indeed I did not know what might be done to me. I knew I could explain all the story of the ghost, but I dared not do it. From what had happened I was certain that it was he himself who had been in the club room, perhaps recollecting that it was the night of meeting. God forgive me for keeping it secret so long!-and, if the poor gentleman's friends forgive me, I shall die in peace." Sun rises sets After a long pause, a member at last January 21.-Day breaks had the resolution to say, "If only one of us had seen this, he would not have been believed, but it is impossible that so many persons can be deceived." The company by degrees recovered their speech; and the whole conversation, as may be imagined, was respecting the object of their alarm. They broke up in a body, and went home. In the morning, inquiry was made after their sick friend. He dad died as nearly as possible about the time of his appearing at the club. There was scarcely room for doubt before, but now there was absolute certainty of the reality of the apparition. The story spread over the country, and was so well attested as to obtain general belief; for, in this case, the fact was attested by three-and-twenty credible eyewitnesses, all of them living. Several years had elapsed, and the story had ceased to engage attentior. and was almost forgotten, when one of the Twilight ends 6 16 The black hellebore fully flowers. January 22. FAMILY DECAY. A MS. diary of a resident of the metropolis, purchased among some waste paper at a place where it is part of the craft of dealing not to tell how they come by what they sell," contains the following entry :"1772, January 22.-Died in Emanuel hospital, Mrs. Wyndymore, cousin of Mary, queen of William III., as well as of queen Anne. Strange revolution of fortune that the cousin of two queens should, for fifty years, be supported by charity!"* Of this lady there does not * Relics of Literature 304. |