Europe, who dreaded the growing power of Austria, expectations of support were entertained. The Bohemians insisted on their ancient right to elect their own king and make their own laws. To protect their claims they raised an army, which was signally defeated. The short-lived dignity of Frederick and his wife was extinguished by this blow, which riveted the chains of Austria upon Bohemia from that hour to the present.

When Ferdinand II. was crowned emperor of Germany, he paid a visit to our lady of Loretto, and made a VOW to extirpate heresy from his dominions, on condition that the virgin would render his arms sucessful. He reinstated the jesuits, and they advised him to begin with that part of the Baptists whose principles would not allow them to make any resistance, and who would remove at a word, without giving his majesty the trouble of putting them to death.

The Bohemian and Moravian Baptists were then divided into two classes; the Bohemians consisted of Calvinist Picards, and resided at different places all over the kingdom. Some of their ministers kept school; others practised physic. The other class lived all together in Moravia, and are called in the imperial edict by the new German name Anabaptists. These people lived in forty-five colleges or fraternities, exactly as their ancestors had done previously to their banishment from France, about four hundred and fifty years before this period. Each of these little corporations consisted of many families, who held all things common. Each fraternity contained between some hundreds and a thousand, and thence it is inferred that they were about forty thousand.

Some of these fraternities carried on manufactories, others were factors and merchants, and others were employed in agriculture, and a wine trade. All were busy, peaceable, and happy, under regulations of their own making, having none of that class of mankind among them who live on the vices and follies of their fellow-creatures. They were no burden to any body on the contrary they served and enriched the community. They had founded liberty on independence, and independence on industry.

It was not an easy matter to get rid of these Baptists. The emperor's chaplains, who were privy counsellors, talked of heresy but it was difficult to bring a direct charge a vainst a people who had

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no public faith, and who never attacked any religion by publishing creeds. They could not be charged with perjury, for they had never taken any oaths, and one of their maxims was "Swear not at all." Sedition could not be pretended, for they never bore arms. They could not be awed by one another, for they had no masters; they could not be bribed, for they had no necessitous gentry. Filled with that unsuspicious freedom, which innocence inspires, they had not even one patron at the imperial court, and their whole expectation was placed on superintending providence of God.Prince Lichtenstein, on whose domain they lived, and to whom they paid rent, and many other noblemen, endeavoured to save these people, on account of the benefits which they derived from them. Ferdinand wrote first to prince Lichtenstein and cardinal Dietrichstein, the first general of the army, and the last governor of the province, to inform them of his design, and to require their concurrence on pain of his displeasure. Then followed the edict, in which his majesty expressed his astonishment at the number of the Anabaptists, and his horror at the principal error which they embraced, which was that, according to the express declarations of holy scripture, they were to submit to no human authority. He added, that his conscience compelled him to proscribe them, and accordingly he banished them from all his hereditary and imperial dominions on pain of death. The jesuits contrived to publish this edict just before harvest and vintage came on, for two reasons, first that the neighbouring gentry would be absent, and next that the people might not carry away the produce of the present year. They allowed them only three weeks and three days for their departure; it was death to be found even on the borders of the country beyond the expiration of the hour.

It was Autumn-the prospect and the pride of husbandmen. Heaven had smiled on their honest labors; their fields stood thick with corn, and the sun and the dew were improving every moment to give them their last polish. The yellow ears waved in homage to their owners and the wind whistling through the stems, and the russet herbage softly said, "Put in the sickle, the harvest is come.' ." Their luxuriant vine leaves too, hung aloft by tendrils, mantled over the clustering grapes like watchful parents over their

tender offspring but all were fenced by an imperial edict, and it was instant death to approach. Without leaving one mur mur upon record, in solemn silent submission to the power that governs the universe, and causes "All things to work together for good" to his creatures, they packed up and departed. In several hundred carriages they conveyed their sick, their innocent infants sucking at the breasts of their mothers who had newly .ain in, and their decrepid parents whose work was done, and whose silvery locks told every beholder that they wanted only the favor of a grave. At the borders they filed off, some to Hungary, others to Transylvania, some to Wallachia, others to Poland and Szek-hel; greater, far greater, for their virtue, than Ferdinand with all his titles, and in all his glory.

In this instance the lords who benefited from their lands being occupied by these peaceful communities, and who must have been deeply injured by their forcible expulsion, offered no resistance to the lawless will of the imperial chief. Yet many of the denounced, in other parts of the

empire were suffered to remain. Some of the nobility protected and employed them; but, when they lost their love for civil liberty, they neglected or persecuted them.

The able writer from whom these particulars are derived concludes his narrative by exclaiming," Woful is the state of that people who having no property in the soil, and no protection by law, are indebted for a momentary gleam of liberty to the precarious affection or convenience of great families! In a change of patrons, purity of faith is a jest; and innocence of manners is as the harmlessness of sheep: they are sure to be sacrificed whenever it becomes the interest of a family to make such an offering to the ruling despot."

THE PALATINE FAMILY. Frederic accepted the crown of Bohemia under a persuasion that his father-inlaw, the king of England, James I., with whose pacific and unenterprising character he seems to have been but little acquainted, would fix him on the throne. James tamely suffered him, not only to be deprived of his kingdom, but even of his

Ecclesiastical Researches by Robert Robinson, p. 523-534.

hereditary dominions. Granger refers to a very curious account of Frederic, in Winwood's Memorials, ii. 403. lle died 29th November 1632.

Elizabeth, James's daughter, saw only a phantom of royalty, and had nothing more than the empty title of queen. She bore her misfortunes with patience and even magnanimity. So engaging was her behaviour, that she was, in the Low Countries, called the "Queen of Hearts." When her fortunes was at the lowest ebb, she never departed from her dignity; and poverty and distress seemed to have no other effect upon her, but to render her more an object of admiration than she was before. In May, 1661, when between 60 and 70 years old, she returned to England, and was one of the most sprightly and agreeable women of her age in the kingdom. She died 13th February 1661-2.

Frederick Henry, eldest son of the king and queen of Bohemia, was drowned in 1629, at the age of fifteen. Of Prince Rupert, another son, who joined Charles I. in arms, there is an account of in a previous page. Prince Maurice, their third son, engaged on the same side, laid siege to Exeter and Dartmouth, and several places in the west of England, and achieved a distinguished victory at Lansdown. Charles Lewis, the eldest surviving son of the unfortunate Frederic and Elizabeth, came into England at eighteen years of age, and received the order of the garter; but, upon the breaking out of the civil war, he left Charles I. at York, and went into Holland. The next year he returned to England; and, while his brothers were exposing themselves in battles and sieges, he paid his court to the parliament, joined the two houses of Westminster, and sat in the assembly of divines. In 1648 he was restored to the lower Palatinate, upon condition of his quitting all right and title to the upper. He died 28th August, 1600, and was succeeded in the electorate by his son Charles, who dying without heirs 16th May, 1685, the family became extinct, and the electoral dignity with its appendages devolved to the house of Newburgh.

The Princess Elizabeth, eldest daughter of the ill-fated king and queen of Bohemia, was distinguished in early years for extraordinary genius, and became one of the most illustrious women in history. She corresponded upon abstruse subjects with the celebrated Des Cartes. He says,

in the dedication to her of his "Principia," that she was the only person he had met with who perfectly understood his works. Christina, queen of Sweden, was conscious of her great knowledge. She had many conferences with William Penn, the legislator of Pennsylvania. He has published in his "Travels" several of her letters to him. She presided as abbess over the protestant nunnery of Hervorden in Germany.

Her sister, the princess Louisa, ranks as high among female artists as her sister does among learned ladies. Gerard Honthorst instructed the queen of Bohemia and her family in painting. The works of the princess Louisa are greatly es teemed by the curious, not only for their rarity but merit; and are in foreign cabi nets with the works of the first masters. In 1660 she professed herself of the Roman Catholic religion, and was made abbess of Maubuisson, at Ponthoise, near Paris. She died in 1709 at the age of eighty-six.

The princess Sophia, another daughter of the king and queen of Bohemia, became queen of Prussia, and mother of George L., king of England. She was mistress of every qualification that could adorn a crown, and lived to a very advanced age.

Of these illustrious sisters it has been observed, that Elizabeth was the most learned, Louisa the greatest artist, and Sophia the most accomplished lady in Europe.*

There is a large collection of portraits of the Palatine family at Combe abbey in Warwickshire, the seat of lord Craven.

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veller lost their guide through the Abbey church, the beauties of which he familiarly pointed out, with great accuracy. He was intimate with the learned Browne Willis. Mr. Gough has noticed his intelligence in the second volume of the Sepulchral Monuments of Great Bri tain;" and the rev. Peter Newcombe expressed his thanks for the variety of information he derived from him towards his "History of the Abbey," accompanied with a copy of that instructive and laborious work. His veneration for the remains deposited in the abbey often created disputes; the monks could not have taken rore care of the shrine of St. Alban, than Kent did of the reliques of good duke Humphrey; and he caused a wooden stall to be made which inclosed the duke's remains. Some years before Kent's death, he suspected a gentleman, who never passed through the town without stopping to view the church, of having taken a piece of bone from duke Humphrey's tomb, and frequently mentioned his suspicion to him, which the gentleman as often answered with a smile. their last interview he said, "Kent, I am come for the last time to look at your abbey ;" and, when in the vestry, he added, "I am come on purpose to deposit this piece of bone in that sacred place from which it was taken; for I could not depart easy with it in my possession." In politics Mr. Kent was a distinguished partisan of the "Blues," and, from his spirit and independence, he was called "Honest John." As a convivial and social companion his company was much courted. He annually entertained the society of "College Youths," of which he was a member, with his favorite ditty, called "The Old Courtier," which also was annually called for at the mayor's feast, and received by the nobility and gentry with a thunder of applause. In his official station as parish clerk, his psalmody was excelled by no one, and equalled by few, particularly in the old hundredth psalm. He had a voice strong and melodious, was a complete master of hear the congregation sing. When counchurch music, and was always pleased to try choristers came from a neighbouring parish to perform in the abbey, with instruments termed by him a box of whistles, which the congregation could not join, he, on those occasions, gave out the psalm or anthem in this way; "Sing ye to the praise and glory of God." He

was rarely absent from his desk; and, notwithstanding, in June, 1793, he had a first stroke of the palsy, which he called a "body blow," and which much distorted his mouth, and occasioned him to stammer in conversation, yet, in worship, it could not be discerned. His final essay was two days before his death, on occasion of the consecration of a pair of colors to the St. Alban's Volunteers, by the honorable Miss Grimstons, when he sang the twentieth psalm with all the strength and vivacity of youth. It was well observed, in his funeral sermon, by the worthy rector, that "on that day nature seemed to have re-assumed her throne; and, as if she knew it was to be his last effort, was determined it should be his best." He was interred in the abbey, in a spot marked by himself.*

13th of September, 1769, between three and four o'clock in the afternoon, lieutenant George Spearing went into a little wood called Northwoodside, about three miles N. W. of Glasgow, with a design to gather hazel-nuts, and fell into an old coal-pit, seventeen yards deep, which had been made through solid rock. He was for some time insensible. Upon recovering he found himself sitting with the blood flowing from a wound in his tongue, which he had bitten in the fall. He was soon reconciled to his situation, not doubting of being relieved in the morning; for the wood being small, and near a populous city, it was much frequented, especially in the nutting season, and there were several footpaths leading through it. At night it began to rain violently the pit was about five feet in diameter, but, not having been worked for several years, the passages were choked up, and he was exposed to the rain, and wetted completely through. In this comfortless condition he endeavoured to take repose. A forked stick, found in the pit, he placed diagonally against the

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side of the rock, to support his head as a pillow, and occasionally his body, which was much bruised. But, he says, after a very disagreeable and tedious night, he was somewhat cheered with the appearance of daylight, and the melody of a robin red-breast, which had perched directly over the mouth of the pit. At the distance of about a hundred yards, in a direct line from the pit's mouth, there was a water-mill, with the miller's house nearer to the pit, and the road to the mill still nearer. He could hear the horses going this road to and from the mill, the sound of human voices, and the ducks and hens about the mill. He called on every occasion with all his might, but to no purpose; for the wind, which was constantly high, blew in a line from the mill to the pit, and his voice was carried the contrary way.

Lieutenant Spearing has left a narrative of the circumstances relating to his perilous situation:-He says, "After two or three days my appetite ceased, but my thirst was intolerable; and, though it almost constantly rained, yet I could not till the third or fourth day preserve a drop of it, as the earth at the bottom of the pit sucked it up as fast as it ran down. In this distress I sucked my clothes; but from them I could extract but little moisture. The shock I received in the fall, together with the dislocation of one of my ribs, kept ine, I imagine, in a continual fever. At last I discovered the thigh-bone of a bull (which, I afterwards heard, had fallen into the pit about eighteen years before me), almost covered with the earth. I dug it up; and the large end of it left a cavity that the water gradually drained into, but so slow that it was a considerable time before I could dip a nut-shell full at a time; which I emptied into the palm of my hand and so drank it. The water now began to increase pretty fast, so that on the fourth or fifth day I had a sufficient supply; and this water was certainly the preservation of my life."

On Saturday, the 16th, there fell but little rain. He heard the voices of some boys in the wood, and called aloud but in vain, though they actually heard him; being prepossessed with an idle story of a wild man being in the wood, they ran away affrighted. He says, "Sunday, the 17th, was my birth day, when I completed my forty-first year; and I think it was the next day that some of my ac

quaintance sent two or three porters out purposely to search the pits for me. These men went to the miller's house, and made enquiry for me; but, on account of the very great rain at the time, they never entered the wood, but cruelly returned to their employers, telling them they had searched the pits, and that I was not to be found." He enjoyed great composure of mind, and on Tuesday, the 19th, having then been six nights in the pit, he, by way of amusement, combed his wig on his knee, humming a tune.

At length, on the morning, Wednesday, September 20, through the brambles and bushes that covered the mouth of the pit, he saw the sun shining brightly, and heard the robin chanting his melodious strains, with a confused noise of human voices, which seemed to be approaching towards the pit. He immediately called out, and most agreeably surprised several of his acquaintance who were in search of him. He says, "As soon as they heard my voice, they all ran towards the pit, and I could distinguish a well-known voice exclaim, Good God! he is still living!' Another of thein, though a very honest North Briton, betwixt his surprise and joy, could not help asking me in the Hibernian style, If I were still living?' I told him I was, and hearty too;' and then gave them particular directions how to proceed in getting me out." At that juncture a collier was passing along the road, and, hearing an unusual noise in the wood, he entered it to learn the occasion. By his assistance, and a rope from the mill, he was soon drawn up.

and he thought that nothing more was wanting to him than a refreshing sleep, but he had to undergo greater sufferings than he had yet endured. By the almost continual rains, and the cold damp from the wet ground, and the impossibility of taking the least exercise in the pit to keep up a proper circulation, his legs were swollen and benumbed. He sent to Glasgow for a physician and a surgeon. Instead of ordering his legs into cold water, and rubbing them with a coarse towel, they applied hot bricks and poultices, which produced mortification. His nerves were much excited. Opposite the river on which the mill stood there was a bleach-field, where the watchmen in the night blew a horn to frighten thieves; this he frequently heard when he was in the pit; and very often, when in a sound sleep at the miller's, he was awakened by it in great horror, thinking himself in the pit. IIe continued six weeks at the miller's, when the roads became too bad for the doctors to visit him, and then he was removed in a sedan chair to his lodgings in Glasgow. By this time his right foot had healed, but he subsequently endured several months of great pain with the left, and, being reduced to a mere skeleton, finally suffered amputation below the knee. "Six weeks after the amputation, I went out," he says, "in a sedan-chair, for the benefit of the air, being exactly nine months from the day I fell into the pit. Soon after, I took lodgings in the country; where, getting plenty of warm new milk, my appetite and strength increased daily; and to this day, I bless God, I do enjoy perfect health; and I have since been the happy father of nine children.--GEORGE SPEARING. Greenwich Hospital, August 1, 1793."*

Sun rises

sets.

Twilight ends 8 23

Crimson rudbeckia flowers, and continues till the middle of October.

September 14.

14th of September, 1714, died Thomas Britton, the celebrated "musical smallcoal man." He was born near Higham

Gentleman's Magazine.