ave disturbed the repose of the dead for the sake of the | gence which we receive is extraordinary and unexpected, The crowd insensibly diminished. It was past midnight. ling. Is not the terrestrial happiness of a man,-of ait confirms, in some degree, the miracle by which it is ob- The music became faint and languid; the tapers grew brother ........' tained; for who can doubt an operation to be supernatural, dim, and many of them went out. The conversation dewhen its effect could not be produced by natural means? clining by degrees, lost itself at last in secret murmurs, I have interrupted you," added the Prince. "Proceed and the faintly illuminated hall was nearly deserted. The in your narrative."monk, in the meantime, continued motionless; his grave I asked the ghost whether there was any thing in this and mournful look still fixed on the newly married couple. world which he still considered as his own, and whether The company at length rose from the table. The guests he had left any thing behind him that was particularly dispersed. The family assembled in a separate group, dear to him? The ghost thrice shook his head, and lifted and the monk, though uninvited, continued near them. up his hand towards heaven. Previous to his retiring, he How it happened that no person spoke to him I cannot dropt a ring from his finger, which was found on the floor conceive. after he had disappeared. Antonia took it, and looking at it attentively, she knew it to be the wedding-ring which she had given to her intended husband.” "The wedding-ring!" exclaimed the Prince, surprised. "How did you get it?" "Who?-I-It was not the true one.-I got it!-It was only a counterfeit."

The terrestrial happiness! Ah! my friend, I feel but too sensibly the force of your expression: my entire farcity.' And the tranquillity of a distressed family; are not hese sufficient to justify such a measure? Undoubtedly. If any sublunary concern can authorize us to interrupt the peace of the blessed, to make use of a power.............. For God's sake, my friend,' said he, interrupting me, no more of this. Once, 1 avow it, I had such a thought: I think I mentioned it to you; but I have long ce rejected it as horrid and abominable.' *You will have conjectured already," continued the lan," to what this conversation led us. I endeaured to overcome the scruples of the Chevalier, and at succeeded. We resolved to call the ghost of the desed Jeronymo. I only stipulated for a delay of a fortht, in order, as I pretended, to prepare, in a suitable aner, for so solemn an act. The time being expired, my machinery in readiness, I took advantage of a gloomy day, when we were all assembled as usual, to municate the affair to the family; and not only brought to consent to it, but even to make it the subject of rown request. The most difficult part of the task was obrain the approbation of Antonia, whose presence was ential. My endeavours were, however, greatly assisted the melancholy turn of her mind, and, perhaps, still re so, by a faint hope that Jeronymo might still be livand therefore would not appear. A want of connce in the thing itself was the only obstacle which I

now to remove.

Having obtained the consent of the family, the third was fixed on for the operation. I then prepared for olemn transaction by mystical instruction, by fasting, de, and prayers, which I ordered to be continued till in the night. Much use was also made of a certain eal instrument, unknown till that time, and which, uch cases, has often been found very powerful. The of these artifices was so much beyond my expec, that the enthusiam, to which on this occasion I was ded to force myself, was infinitely heightened by that audience. The anxiously expected moment at last

I guess," said the Prince, "whom you are now going troduce. But go on, go on." HeNo, my Prince. The deception succeeded according

army wishes."

How? Where is then the Armenian ?"

"A counterfeit !" repeated the Prince. "But in order
to counterfeit, you required the true one. How did you
come at it? Surely the deceased never went without it?"
"That is true," replied the Sicilian, with symptoms of
confusion." But from a description which was given me
of the genuine wedding-ring--"

"A description which was given you! By whom ?"
"Long before that time. It was a plain gold ring, and
had, I believe, the name of the young Countess engraved
on it. But you made me lose the connexion."
"What happened farther?" said the Prince, with a
very dissatisfied countenance.

"The female friends now surrounded the trembling bride, who cast a supplicating and distressed look on the awful stranger. He did not answer it. The gentlemen assembled in the same manner around the bridegroom. A solemn and anxious silence prevailed among them.

"How happy we are here together,' at length said the old Marquis, who alone seemed not to behold the stranger, or, at least, seemed to behold him without dismay; how happy we are together, and my son Jeronymo cannot be with us.

"Have you invited him, and did not he answer your invitation?' asked the monk. It was the first time he had spoken. We looked at him alarmed.

return,' answered the old man. Reverend father, you "Alas! he is gone to a place from whence there is no misunderstand me: my son Jeronymo is dead."

"Perhaps he only fears to appear in this company,' replied the monk. Who knows how your son Jeronymo may be situated? Let him now hear the voice which he The family fancied themselves convinced that Je-heard the last. Desire your son Lorenzo to call him.' ronymo was no more. From that very day they publicly "What does he mean?' whispered the company one announced his death, and went into mourning. The cir- to another. Lorenzo changed colour. My own hair becumstance of the ring left no doubt even in the mind of gan to stand on my head. Antonia, and added a considerable weight to the addresses of the Chevalier.

In the meantime, the violent impression which the young Countess had received from the sight of the apparition, brought on her a disorder?so dangerous, that the hopes of Lorenzo were very near being destroyed for ever. On her recovering, she insisted upon taking the veil; and it was only at the serious remonstrances of her confessor, in whom she placed implicit confidence, that she was brought to abandon her project. At length, the united solicitations of the family, and the confessor, wrested from her the desired consent. The last day of mourning was fixed on for the day of marriage, and the old Marquis determined to add to the solemnity of the occasion, by resigning all his estates to his lawful heir.

The day arrived, and Lozenzo received his trembling bride at the altar. In the evening a splendid banquet was prepared for the cheerful guests, in a hall superbly illuminated. The most lively and delightful music contributed to increase the general gladness. The happy old Marquis wished all the world to participate in his joy. All the entrances of the palace were set open, and every one who sympathized in his happiness was joyfully welcomed. In the midst of the throng".

"In the meantime the monk approached a sideboard. the memory of our dear Jeronymo?' said he. Every one He took a glass of wine, and bringing it to his lips- To who loved the deceased will follow my example."

"Wherever you come from, reverend father,' exclaimed the old Marquis, you have pronounced a dearly beloved name, and you are welcome here.' Then turning to us, he offered us full glasses. Come, my friends, let us not be surpassed by a stranger. The memory of my son Jeronymo." Never, I believe, was any toast less heartily received. "There is one glass left,' said the Marquis. Why does my son Lorenzo refuse to pay this friendly tribute?" "Lorenzo, trembling, received the glass from the hands dearly beloved brother Jeronymo!' he hesitatingly proof the monk; tremblingly he put it to his lips. My nounced, and, seized with horror, he replaced the glass unemptied.

"This is the voice of my murderer!' exclaimed a terrible figure, which appeared instantaneously in the midst of us, covered with blood, and disfigured with horrible wounds.

The same

"But ask no further from me," added the Sicilian, lost my senses the moment I looked at this apparition." with every symptom of horror in his countenance; "I covered, the monk and the ghost had disappeared. Lome happened to every one present. When we rerenzo was in the agonies of death. He was carried to bed in the most dreadful convulsions. No person attended him but his confessor and the sorrowful old Marquis, in whose presence he expired. The Marquis died a few weeks after him. Lorenzo's secret is concealed in the bosom of the priest, who received his last confession: no person ever learnt what it was.

Do not fear, my Prince. He will appear but too soon. The mit the description of the farce itself, as it would lead to too great a length. It is sufficient to say, that it wered my expectation. The old Marquis, the young intess, her mother, Lorenzo, and another person of the ily, were present. You will imagine that, during my residence in this house, I had not wanted opportu s of gathering information respecting every thing that cerned the deceased. Several of his portraits enabled give the apparition a striking likeness; and, as I The Sicilian paused. A trembling expectation susred the ghost to speak only by signs, the sound of his pended our breath. "In the midst of the throng," continued the prisoner, could excite no suspicion. The departed Jeronymo appeared in the dress of a appeared a Franciscan monk, to whom my attention was grish slave, with a deep wound in his neck. You ob- directed by a person who sat next to me at table. He was that, in this respect, I was counteracting the general standing motionless, like a marble pillar. His shape was sition, that he had perished in the waves. I had tall and thin; his face pale and ghastly; his aspect grave on to hope that this unexpected circumstance would and mournful; his eyes were fixed on the newly married hten the belief in the apparition itself, for nothing couple. The joy which beamed on the face of every one ared to me more dangerous than to be too natural." present appeared not on his. His countenance never once I think you judged well," said the Prince. "In varied. He seemed like a statue among living persons. ever respects apparitions, the most probable is the Such an object, appearing amidst the general joy, struck acceptable. If their communications are easily com-me more forcibly from its contrast with every thing around hended, we undervalue the channel by which they are me. It left on my mind so durable an impression, that, ained. Nay, we even suspect the reality of the mira- from it alone, I have been enabled (which would otherwise if the discoveries which it brings to light are such as have been impossible) to recollect the features of this the easily have been imagined. Why should we dis- Franciscan monk in the Russian officer, for, without the repose of a spirit, if it is to inform us of nothing doubt, you must have already conceived, that the person re than the ordinary powers of the intellect are capable I have described was no other than your Armenian. eaching us? But, on the other hand, if the intelli- "I frequently attempted to withdraw my eyes from this figure, but they returned involuntarily, and found him always unaltered. I pointed him out to the person who sat nearest to me on the other side, and he did the same to the person next to him. In a few minutes a general curiosity and astonishment pervaded the whole company. The conversation languished; a general silence succeeded; the monk did not interrupt it. He continued motionless, and always the same; his grave and mournful looks constantly fixed upon the newly married couple: his appear. ance struck every one with terror. The young Countess alone, who found the transcript of her own sorrow in the face of the stranger, beheld, with a sullen satisfaction, the [only object that seemed to smypathize in her sufferings. | Tuesday...

Perhaps he means the Harmonica, a musical instrument of late years, in Germany. It is composed of a number lass wheels, which revolve on an axle, and produce, on g touched, different degrees of sound, according to their ferent sizes. The harmony produced by this instrument of a kind so languishing and delightful, that very extraornary effects are said to have been produced by it. When ilfully touched, it is remarkably adapted to lull the mind to a tender and solemn melancholy, on which account it is equently used in theatres, to prepare the audience for any ning uncommonly impressive, such as the introduction of houta, &c.

"Soon after this event, a well was cleaned in the farm yard of the Marquis's villa. It had been disused many years, and was almost closed up by shrubs and old trees. A skeleton was found among the rubbish. The house where this happened is now no more; the family Del Mis extinct; and Antonia's tomb may be seen in a convent not far from Salerno."

Days.

(To be concluded in our next.)

Tide Table.

Festivals, &c.

Morn. Even. Height.|
[h. m.'h. m. ft. in.)
Tuesday....110 48 11
4:15 5 Circumcision.
Wednesday 211 23 11 39 15 11 Full Moon, 5h. 43m. morn.
Thursday..311 55 16 4
Friday. 0 11 0 2816 6
Sunday....6 1 16 1 32 16 2 Epiphany.
Saturday..5 0 43 0 59 16 7
Monday 7 1 49 2 715 9.1

82 24 2 42 15 1 Lucian.

How swiftly days, months, years, their course have run; and, in consequence of the fright occasioned by the fire, And, ah! how soon, the mortal barrier past,

Crosby, and extend along the sea-board as far as the extraordinary nature, in reference to the rapid advance of quite, we opine. Great pains have been taken to beautify Dee, in Cheshire. This is a subject of curious speculation, the watery deity over the territories of his rival element, and adorn the citadel. Millions have been spent upon which has not unfrequently engaged our attention. To that we are persuaded few (if any) of the inhabitants of to render it what it now is! An insidious enemy has those who have had any experience in the cultivation of the town, now living, are acquainted with. We had the however, made a lodgement in its breastwork. The very trees on the bleak and sterile vicinity at the entrance of relation from a venerable and intelligent cottager, whom element which gives life, and vigour, and ornament to the the Mersey, it will appear a puzzling question to solve, we found in a clean, but humble cottage, on the margin of town, is silently, but gradually, undermining the outposts how forests could ever have existed where now there is a the marsh, sitting beside a group of his youthful descend- and we would, without any superfluous forebodings, re difficulty in rearing even a nursery? To this question we ants, a scene not rendered the less interesting by the pre- spectfully, but earnestly, direct the attention of the con have never yet obtained a satisfactory solution, nor had the sence of the three months" widowed mother, who, with servators of the river Mersey, as well as of the land pra least light thrown upon a circumstance at present almost watery eye, stood pensive in the centre of her orphan chil-prietors of Cheshire, to this subject once more. Timel altogether lost sight of, but which is, in reference to the dren, apologizing for not having the apartment in better made great changes since last they had this subject unde future, of no inconsiderable importance. There is no way order. On being asked what he knew in relation to the consideration, and then the difference of opinion was to of accounting for this singular change, which the revolu- encroachments of the sea since his early days, he replied," is there any danger ?" that fact was admitted; tion of ages must have wrought, on the present margin of These flags, (pointing to the floor,) on which my chair" who shall do it," was the point upon which the differen the sea, but by supposing the absence of the water in stands, were taken from the bottom of a well, which, in turned. The time is now come, when the apprehend "long gone-by times," and this itself will not help us out former days, supplied us with water, but it now lies racked danger should be fairly met, petty jealousies and unwarr of the difficulty, except by supposing that the boundaries up, and buried, two or three hundred yards below the individual interests laid aside, and the further ravage of the deep were very distant, probably miles, from the reach of the tide. Many a time," said the old veteran, the sea kept out by timely embankment. This ag highest point in which it now flows; this we infer from his eyes kindling into increased animation, “have I en- have been done forty years ago, probably, for the difficulty of rearing trees of a moderate size at a dis-joyed the favourite sport of prison bars, when we used to hundred pounds; it may, indeed, now cost thora tance of a quarter or half a mile from the borders of the assemble, in our youthful days, more than a quarter of a but left a few years longer, tens of thousands ma sea, in this neighbourhood. We are well aware that the mile from the present flow of the tide. A lighthouse," be adequate to meet the danger, if, haply, not the observations which we have made, will not apply to many continued the old man," then stood far out on the beach, late to accomplish the object. What the effect of a parts of the sea-coast of this kingdom; and we make them to the northward of the present one, nearly half a mile, if irruption of the water through Wallasey Pool would exclusively in reference to our own vicinity, lying, as not altogether all out. That lighthouse was, long ago, ren- on Liverpool, or the navigation of the river, we sh it does, so much exposed to the north-west gales which dered useless, by the encroachments of the water. It was not hazard an opinion upon; nor shall we say any th predominate throughout the year. If, then, we have, pulled down; and the present one was built in the year at present, respecting its probability. The first effect in any degree, established the fact, that very import- 1763, and I assisted in building it. At that time, there was Cheshire, would unquestionably be the destruction ant changes have taken place on the sea-shore at the en- a high ridge of sandhills and millgrass, to keep off the some hundreds, if not thousands, of acres of land. B trance of the Mersey, simply from observation, without tide, at a considerable distance from the present lighthouse. one thing we are sure of,-the stake in this town is y calling in the aid of tradition, which would favour the sup- The hills and grass are now all gone, and there is nothing too great to render its being jeopardized in the least age position that, formerly, the shores of Lancashire and Che- now left to stop the water, which is making rapid ap- pardonable; and the remedy is simple and practicable. shire were united where now the sea rolls its current mag-proaches inland; and, unless something be done, I know nificently round the Rock Point, or that they were divided not what will become of us. Last week we suffered terby a very narrow stream. Giving to traditions no more ribly in this neighbourhood." value than they now appear entitled to, we have the living testimony of numbers of individuals to prove the rapid advance of the sea on the entire line of coast from Leasowe Castle to the mouth of the Dee. Large tracts of grazing land, on the margin of the sea, have, by insensible degrees, been occupied by successive encroachments of the water; and where once the gaieties of the race and rural sports enlivened the green sward, the water now oft rolls in terrific grandeur, and the lifeless corpse of the mariner, and the disjointed fragments of his shattered bark, sometimes lie scattered upon the sandy beach, and present themselves to the eye of the spectator in solemn contrast. There is no fiction in this: it is the simple language of fact. A great portion of the land which lies betwixt the boundaries we have mentioned, is considerably below the level of the tide at high water, and is only preserved, in many places, from the irruption of the ocean, by a very insecure boundary of sand, casually thrown up by the operation of the wind and the waves. It would, however, be well if that were the case all along that bleak coast; but how stands the fact? More than a mile of that part of the shore betwixt Leasowe Castle, and running westward of Leasowe Lighthouse, this natural or artificial boundary is now entirely destroyed, and that gap is exposed to the gradual encroachment of the water, without the slightest check to its further ad

vances.

To this recital we listened with intense interest, never having heard of the existence of the lighthouse to which the oid man referred with such graphic vivacity. Probably perceiving something sceptical in our language or manner," Its true, you may depend on it, Sir, I assure you," rejoined the venerable old cottager, nearly approaching his ninetieth year. "Well, and what is your opinion of the encroachments which the tide is making on your shore ?" "Why, I think," continued he, "that the day is not very distant when the water will break over this Leasowe, and drown all the land, and then make its way to Liverpool through Wallasey Pool." "And what then?" There will not be a sufficient flow of water through the new channel to admit ships of large burthen; but the current will, by this means, be so much altered in the neck of the Mersey, and will run with so much less force, that it will endanger the navigation of the river, and ruin Liverpool."

Miscellanies.

ADVENTURES OF JAMES V. IN DISGUISE.

(From "Tales of My Grandfather.") James V. had a custom of going about the country s guised as a private person, in order that he migh complaints which might not otherwise reach his ea perhaps, that he might enjoy amusements which not have partaken of in his avowed royal charac is also said to have been a custom of James IV., and several adventures are related of what befde such oocasions. One or two of these narratives may b to enliven our story.

the cas

When James V. travelled in disguise, he used a which was known only to some of his principal me and attendants. He was called the Goodman (the tes Now, without attaching any undue degree of import- that is,) of Ballengiech. Ballengiech is a steep p ance to the opinion, what are we say to the appalling facts which leads down behind the Castle of Stirling. thus elicited from this veteran beacher, who has been a upon a time, when he was feasting in Stirling, the close observer of the operations of the tides for the last sent for some venison from the neighbouring hills. Th two-thirds of a century? Here we have the fact of a light. deer were killed, and put on horses' backs, to be tra house having existed sixty-five years ago, far down upon ported to Stirling. Unluckily, they had to pass t the beach, which, when erected, was unquestionably con- gates of Arnpryor, belonging to a chief of the Buch sidered to be on terra firma; now land, and building, and who had a considerable number of guests with him. On Saturday last, our attention was drawn to this subject sandhills are all swept off; the site of them become the was late, and the company were rather short of by a friend, who stated, that, on the Wednesday before, tide's way, and the evidence of their former existence only though they had more than enough of liquor. The he understood that the sea had broken over in this spot, to be found in the memory of an individual, who associ- seeing so much fat venison passing his very door, se and had done considerable damage to the pasture and other ates them with the pleasing reminiscences of his early days. it; and to the expostulations of the keepers, who t grounds on that part of the common. With a view to Had the lighthouse now been standing, it would have been it belonged to King James, he answered, insolent learn the particulars of the case, we visited the place on curious to observe the ravages of time, marked by its dis- if James was King in Scotland, he, Buchanan, wa Monday, and, with some difficulty, found our way over the tance in the water and its height above the level of the sea, in Kippen,-being the name of the district in whi marsh, which now lies partially covered with salt water, by which it would now have been surrounded, and thus castle of Arnpryor lay. On hearing what had hap and the following is the result of our inquiry:-On Wed- converted into a solitary sea-mark, peering out of the the King got on horseback, and rode instantly from nesday, the 19th, the wind blew from the south-west, a watery element like "a tower of other days." The ad-ling to Buchanan's house, where he found a strong. violent gale, which raised the tide from four to five feet vances of the tide upon this part of the shore, threaten, looking Highlander, with an axe on his shoulder, stan above its expected height, which was rather under twenty very shortly, to place the present lighthouse in a similar sentinel at the door. This grim warder refused the K feet. The water, on that day, broke over the Leasowe situation. Last week we find it was surrounded with a admittance, saying, that the Laird of Arnpryor with resistless fury, inundating the common for several boisterous tide; bereft of its former natural protection. dinner, and would not be disturbed. "Yet! hundred yards inland, and, in one part, more than half a Every spring-tide still brings the water in closer approxi- company, my good friend," said the King, "and tell mile from its ordinary boundary, filling the ditches and mation to its base, and, without the least pretensions that the Goodman of Ballengiech is come to feast with the pools, and covering the fields and inclosures of the poor to the gift of prophecy, we will venture to affirm, King of Kippen." The porter went grumbling into t cottagers, sweeping away many of their fences, saturating that, unless a timely preventive be applied to the en- house, and told his master, that there was a fellow, with their gardens, pastures, and tillage land, with salt water, croachments of the sea, the Leasowe Lighthouse will, ere red beard, who called himself the Goodman of Ballengi thereby rendering them comparatively barren for several long, be only approachable in boats at high water; and at the gate, who said he was come to dine with the years to come, even if they should be preserved from a ladder on the outside, or a spiral staircase in the interior, of Kippen. As soon as Buchanan heard these words. Another similar visitation. The Leasowe Lighthouse was will become necessary to find a way to the upper stories knew that the King was there in person, and hasted encompassed with water, flowing up to the kitchen steps, of the building. As much as eight yards in width of the down to kneel at James's feet, and to ask forgiveness t and beating the ground with such violence as to leave large strand has recently been swept away in one tide; and, his insolent behaviour. But the King, who only mothe hollows within a few yards of the building. Many young within the last three years, not less than two acres of land, to give him a fright, forgave him freely, and, going to d men could inform us, from their own knowledge, of the belonging to the estate of the late Mrs. Boode, have shared castle, feasted on his own venison, which Buchanan d advance of the sea for several hundred yards, and they dee the same fate. We are well aware that this is no new intercepted. Buchanan of Arnpryor was ever after wards seribed their having frequently seen the roots and trunks subject: it has long since occupied the attention of the called the King of Kippen. of large oaks, more than two hundred yards below the Corporation of Liverpool, as well as of the gentlemen of point of high water mark, lying among the black braes," Cheshire. And it may be said it is only like the cry of -a kind of peat. There is one fact, however, of such an the wolf in the fable.' Ay! and is this really so?-Not

!

go up to the

disguise, fell into a quarrel with some gipsies, or This Upon another occasion, King James being alone, and in vagrants, and was assaulted by four or five of them. This

as a companion-zealous and sincere as a friend. His
professional talents and scientific acquirements, which
were of a superior order, were unalloyed by the slightest
tincture of pedantry or charlatanism. He united a sound
and cultivated understanding, with a lively and obliging
disposition; and his humour was characterized by a de-
gree of naïveté, seldom to be met with in men who have
any pretensions to wit. His description of the Liverpool
Floating Bath, given in the genuine Lancashire dialect,
is quite a chef d'œuvre in its line. In his provincial or-
thography he did not, like too many of Tim Bobbin's
imitators, "out- Herod Herod ;" and we have been told,
by those who understand the subject, that the letter of
which we are speaking is quite equal to Collier's celebrated
"Tummus and Meary."

The Doctor was so affable and unaffected in his man

chanced to be very near the Bridge of Cramond; so the
King got on the bridge, which, as it was high and narrow,
enabled him to defend himself with his sword against
the persons by whom he was attacked. There was a
poor man thrashing corn in a barn near by, who came
at on hearing the noise of the scuffle, and, seeing one
Ban defending himself against numbers, gallantly took
us part with his flail, to such good purpose, that the
gipsies were obliged to fly. The husbandman then took
the King into the barn, brought him a towel, and water to
wash the blood from his face and hands, and finally
aked with him a little way towards Edinburgh, in case
e should be again attacked. On the way, the King
ked his companion what, and who he was. The la-
arer answered, that his name was John Howieson, and
it he was a bondman on the farm of Braehead, near
amond, which belonged to the King of Scotland. James
n asked the poor man if there was any wish in the
dd which he would particularly desire should be gra-
ed; and honest John confessed he should think him.
the happiest man in Scotland were he but proprietor ners, and so benevolent, kind, and attentive to the poor,
the farm on which he wrought as a labourer. He then that, when he left Bolton, to take up his temporary re-
ged the King, in turn, who he was; and James residence in Liverpool, preparatory to his long-meditated
ed, as usual, that he was the Goodman of Ballengiech, settlement in the United States, the event was regarded
poor man who had a small appointment about the in the neighbourhood as a most serious calamity, by all
Ince; but he added, that if John Howieson would
me to see him on the next Sunday, he would endeavour his patients in humble life, who were very numerous.
repay his manful assistance, and, at least, give him the
The Doctor was the very reverse of what is called a
asure of seeing the royal apartments.
man of the world; neither was he a man of business. He
John put on his best clothes, as you may suppose, and was not fond of his profession, and took very little pains
Jearing at a postern gate of the palace, inquired for the to conceal his dislike to it. His disinterestedness was
odman of Ballengiech. The King had given orders
a he should be admitted; and John found his friend, carried, in the opinion of his friends, to a faulty extreme,
Goodman, in the same disguise which he had formerly as it precluded all expectation that he could ever realize
rn. The King, still preserving the character of an
a fortune, or even a competency, for his family. One
erior officer of the household, conducted John Howie- circumstance, for the truth of which we can personally
a from one apartment of the palace to another, and was vouch, will show that the auri sacra fames was not his
aused with his wonder and his remarks. At length he
ked him if he should like to see the King; to which besetting sin. A gentleman, whose family he had at
hn replied, nothing would delight him so much, if he tended for several years, had for some time pressed him,
uld do so without giving offence. The Goodman of in vain, to make his professional charge. This invitation,
lengiech, of course, undertook that the King would not which is, in general, so promptly accepted, was always
angry. But," said John, "how am I to know his parried with the remark, that it was time enough, or that
ce from the nobles who will be all about him ?".
asily," replied his companion, "all the others will be the affair was a mere trifle amongst friends; and no settle-
-headed-the King alone will wear his hat or bonnet." ment could be obtained until the Doctor's resolution to
speaking, King James introduced the countryman leave the country was finally taken, when his friend put
a great hall, which was filled by the nobility and into his hand two ten pound notes, apologizing, at the
cers of the Crown. John was a little frightened, and
same time, for the inadequacy of the sum. The Doctor
close to his attendant; but was still unable to dis-
guish the King. "I told you that you should know told him it was too much by at least one half, and in-
by his wearing his hat," said his conductor.sisted upon returning one of the notes, observing, that
(Then," said John, after he had again looked around
room, it must be either you or me, for all but us
are bare-headed."

تحول

The King laughed at John's fancy; and, that the good man might have occasion for mirth also, he made him resent of the farm of Braehead, which he had wished touch to possess, on condition that John Howieson, or successors, should be ready to present an ewer and in for the King to wash his hands, when his Majesty ald come to Holyrood Palace, or should pass the bridge ramond. Accordingly, in the year 1822, when George came to Scotland, the descendant of John Howieson, Braehead, who still possesses the estate which was in to his ancestor, appeared at a solemn festival, and red his Majesty water from a silver ewer, that he sht perform the service by which he held his lands.

Biographical Notices.

We have, by particular desire, copied from the Mercury extract from an editorial notice of the late Dr. Taylor, tting all those passages which relate to the political ansactions in which he bore a conspicuous part.

THE LATE DR. ROBERT TAYLOR.

Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man

Nay, think not that I flatter;

had he not been leaving the country, he should have
considered himself bound to attend his friend's family,
for the next year at least, without further charge.

For some years previously to his death, Doctor Taylor
was engaged upon an original work, which he modestly
entitled a" Bold Guess at Geology," and which, had he
lived to complete it, would, we have no doubt, have
thrown much additional light upon a science, which is
still only in its infancy. There was a boldness and
originality in his genius, which would have surmounted
all the obstacles which pedantry, prejudice, and a pre-
dilection for particular systems, frequently interpose
between science and truth. The introduction to his
geological work appeared in the 6th and 7th volumes of
the Kaleidoscope, and was generally admired by our
readers.*

Correspondence.

THE FAIR SEX.

TO THE EDITOR.

SIR,-On taking up your last Kaleidoscope, I read, with some interest, a letter from a fair correspondent, signed Sophia. I am always pleased to see your pages adorned with the remarks of the ladies, particularly as their observations are generally as pretty as their faces (bless them!) I cannot, however, avoid stating my regret, that they, for whom nature has done so much, should do so little, in a literary way, to enlighten the dark and mysterious paths of life, and dispel the mists of ignorance which too frequently envelop the minds of men.

These observations I intend to apply only to the ladies of Liverpool and its vicinity, because, in my occasional peregrinations in society, I have very often met with females endowed with minds of a superior order, and whose understanding rendered them as capable of wielding the "gray goose quill" as the soi-disant "lords of the creation."—It is time, however, to notice the griefs of your fair correspondent.

Sophia solicits assistance in the removal of some blemishes on her face, which, she says, "is apt to flush and spot," and, at the same time, states that they give her "much trouble and inconvenience." Indeed, I cannot conceive that this should be so great a source of grief to the fair Sophia, especially when she could no more prevent these freaks of nature, than she could the moulding of her own person. She is not singular in this respect: there are many other ladies similarly situated; and, could I afford her no other consolation, I would draw her attention to the old couplet, (for, notwithstanding its whimsicality, I do think there is some truth in it,) that

so

66

"Companions in distress
Make the trouble less."

Ay, but I imagine there is something else; there is something beside these "flushes and spots" which causes much trouble and inconvenience" to your fair correspondent. Does she not want a numerous train of beaux (whom I call fops) to attend upon her? If I mistake not, the want of these things is the real cause of her

much trouble and inconvenience." Had she been formed with a face as beautiful as her person, she might then have such admirers to her heart's content. Alas! how cruel is fate! But complete happiness is not the portion of mortals, and it is vain for Sophia to claim exemption from the general rule.

Now, if your fair correspondent will bear with me a little while, I will suggest what I conceive will prove, if not a complete cure, at least one which will render the "flushes and spots" of comparatively trivial importance. My prescription is, that she should adorn herself with every virtue that it is possible for a female to possess ; that she should cultivate her mind, and lay up such a store of useful information as would render her company always fascinating; and, finally, that she should make herself mistress of the necessary duties which she must expect to discharge in life. To this prescription, I should, perhaps,

See Kaleidoscope-Vol. VI. p. 373-Vol. VII. pp. 47, 49, 85, have added the lighter ornaments, such as music, dancing,

88, 116.

19
45
29 16
0
55
53 0
0
20 29 27 43 0 45 0 48 0
21 29 38 41 0 43 0 50 0
0 44 O 51 0

S.W. Cloudy.
S.S.E. Cloudy.
S.S.W. Fair.

N.W. Rain.
29 75 42 0 44 0
49 0 N.W. Fair.
2945 42 0 47 0 56 0 S.W. Stormy.
30 14 43 0 47 0 51 0 S.W. Fair.

20th.-Three, p.m. stormy; eight, p.m. heavy rain.
21st,-Two, p.m. stormy.

24th,-Rain during night; eight, a.m. heavy rain.

&c.; but, however much I may admire them as graces. I consider them of no importance when put in competition with the requisite qualifications, and in this opinion I think I shall be supported by those whose opinion is of any weight in the world. A lady possessing these qualifications would command respect, where the most luxuriant beauty, without them, could not command attention: -they would be more durable than the beauty that fades and withers; and throughout every period of life, they would form a halo around the fair possessor.

Sophia seems to think that the removal of these blemishes would make her happy. Would it not rather make her vain? If so, she could not be really happy; for vanity and happiness can never go hand in hand. I will, therefore, candidly tell your fair correspondent, that, if she