the sacrifice, he ordered the whole to be restored, observing, that he should be unworthy of being the opponent of his imperial highness, if he took any advantage of so noble an act of humanity.

BUONAPARTE.-Monsieur le Comte de Polignac had been raised to honour by Buonaparte; but, from some unaccountable motive, betrayed the trust his patron reposed in him. As soon as Buonaparte discovered the perfidy, he ordered Polignac to be put under arrest. Next day he was to have been tried, and in all probability would have been condemned, as his guilt was most undoubted. In the interim, Madame Polignac solicited and obtained an audience of the emperor. “I am sorry, Madame, for your sake," said he, "that your husband has been implicated in an affair which is marked throughout with such deep ingratitude.” “He may not have been so guilty as your majesty supposes," said the countess. Do you know your husband's signature?" asked the emperor, as he took a letter from his pocket and presented it to her. Madame de Polignac hastily glanced over the letter, recognized the writing, and fainted. As soon as she recovered, Buonaparte, offering her the letter, said, "Take it; it is the only legal evidence against your husband; there is a fire beside you." Madame de Polignac eagerly seized the important document, and in

an instant committed it to the flames. The life of Polignac was saved; his honour it was beyond the power even of the generosity of an emperor to redeem.

Note Act, passed by the Commons of England equals any of those of our sister islands, viz."That the signatures of the persons employed to sign the notes shall be impressed by ma chinery."

Bon Mots.

FEW men would succeed in their gallantries, if the women were always to conduct themselves with the prudence of the lady, who being urged by her lover to consent to his happiness, answered him as follows: "When I was about to be married, I took the advice of my parents;-now that I am married, I obey my husband:-Go, therefore, to him; make your proposal, and if he consent, be assured that I shall have no objection."

SIR Francis Dashwood, when on his travels in France, was struck one day with the sin gularity of an inscription placed in the front of a convent, implying, that "the holy fathers of that convent would pray out of pargatory the souls of the relations of those who would be so charitable as to put money into the plate beneath." Whilst he was contemplating this eccentric inscription, one of the fathers came out of the convent and saluted him. 66 Father," says Sir Francis, "am I to if I was inclined to give charity, can you believe this inscription to be serious?—And assure me that the souls of any of my relations, whom I shall name, will be thereby relieved?" "Most certainly," answered the friar; "no sooner will your money touch the plate, than their souls shall be out of purgaVery well," replied Sir Francis, "I had a father by whose death 1 succeeded to a good estate, and I don't care if I give these two ducats (throwing them into the plate) to have his soul out of purgatory." The friar bowed, assuring Sir Francis that his father's soul was removed the moment the money touched the plate. "Well, proceeded Sir Francis, I had a sister who died, poor girl, of the green-sickness, and I have no objection to give two ducats more to have her out of purgatory also."-Sir Francis threw in the two ducats, and the friar assured him of the

tory.' 66

happiness of his sister. "This is very well,” said Sir Francis, "and I am much pleased and comforted by your assurances.-I had a maiden grand-aunt who died some years ago and left me 20,0001.-It's a pity but she was in heaven, as she left me so much doubt she had some sins; but these, I suppose, money-No may be now purged away." "How long is it since she died," enquired the friar. "Fifteen years."-"O then, by this time they are cer tainly wiped off." Sir Francis threw down the ducats, and the friar repeated his assi

rances. Thus Sir Francis went on, until he had made the number of his deceased relations, to whom he wished well, ten or twelve. The friar rejoiced at the sight of the money, commended the charitable disposition of the young gentleman, and continued to assure him of the happiness and welfare of the souls of his departed friends. "Now," said Sir Francis, "I would give this ducat more to be assured that the souls of my friends are at this moment in heaven." "Most undoubtedly," answered the friar, repeating his first asseveration of "No sooner did the money touch the plate, than their souls were out of purgatory, and they are now in heaven." "Are they," said Sir Francis, sweeping the money from the plate into his hand," then they'll be d- -d fools if ever they come out of it."

Characters.

THE ADMIRABLE CHRICHTON. AMONG the favourites of nature that have from time to time appeared in the world, enriched with various endowments and contrarieties of excellence, none seems to have been more exalted above the common rate of humanity, than the man known about two centuries ago by the appellation of the ADMIRABLE CRICHTON; of whose history, whatever we may suppress as surpassing credibility, yet we shall, upon incontestible authority, relate enough to rank him among prodigies.

"Virtue," says Virgil, is better accepted when it comes in a pleasing form;" the person of Chrichton was eminently beautiful; but his beauty was consistent with such activity and strength, that in fencing he would spring at one bound the length of twenty feet upon his antagonist; and he used the sword in either hand with such force and dexterity, that scarce any one had courage to engage him.

Having studied at St Andrews in Scotland, he went to Paris in his twenty-first year, and affixed on the gate of the college of Navarre a kind of challenge to the learned of that university to dispute with him on a certain day: offering to his opponents, whoever they should be, the choice of ten languages, and of all the faculties and sciences. On the day appointed three thousand auditors assembled, when four doctors of the church and fifty masters appeared against him; and one of his antagonists confesses, that the doctors were defeated; that he gave proofs of knowledge above the reach of man; and that a hundred years passed without food or sleep, would not be sufficient for the attainment of his learning. After a disputation of nine hours, he was presented by the president and professors with a diamond and a purse of gold, and dismissed with repeated acclamations.

From Paris he went away to Rome, where he made the same challenge, and had in the presence of the pope and cardinals the same success. Afterwards he contracted at Venice an acquaintance with Aldus Manutius, by whom he was introduced to the learned of that city: then visited Padua, where he engaged in another public disputation, beginning his performance with an extemporal poem in praise of the city and assembly then present, and concluding with an oration equally unpremeditated in commendation of ignorance.

He afterwards published another challenge, in which he declared himself ready to detect the errors of Aristotle and all his commentators, either in the common forms of logic, or in any which his antagonists should propose of a hundred different kinds of verse.

These acquisitions of learning, however stupenduous, were not gained at the expense of any pleasure which youth generally indulges, or by the omission of any accomplishment in which it becomes a gentleman to excel: he practised in great perfection the arts of drawing and painting, he was an eminent performer in both vocal and instrumental music, he danced with uncommon gracefulness, and on the day after the disputation at Paris exhibited his skill in horsemanship be fore the court of France, where, at a public match of tilting, he bore away the ring upon his lance fifteen times together.

He excelled likewise in domestic games of less dignity and reputation; and in the interval between his challenge and disputation at Paris, he spent so much of his time at cards, dice, and tennis, that a lampoon was fixed upon the gate of the Sorbonne, directing those that would see this monster of erudition, to look for him at the tavern.

So extensive was his acquaintance with life and manners, that in an Italian comedy composed by himself, and exhibited before the court of Mantua, he is said to have personated fifteen different characters; in all which he might succeed without great difficulty, since he had such power of retention, that once hearing an oration of an hour, he would repeat it exactly, and in the recital follow the speaker through all variety of tone and gesticulation.

Nor was his skill in arms less than in learning, or his courage inferior to his skill; there was a prize-fighter at Mantua, who, travelling about the world, according to the barbarous custom of that age, as a general challenger, had defeated the most celebrated masters in many parts of Europe: and in Mantua, where he then resided, had killed three that appeared against him. The Duke repented that he had granted him his protection; when Chrichton, looking on his sanguinary success with indignation, offered to stake fifteen hundred pistoles, and mount the stage against him. The Duke, with some reluctance, consented, and on the day fixed, the combatants

appeared; their weapon seems to have been single rapier, which was then newly introduced in Italy. The prize-fighter advanced with great violence and fierceness, and Chrichton contented himself calmly to ward his passes, and suffered him to exhaust his vigour by his own fury. Chrichton then became the assailant; and pressed upon him with such force and agility, that he thrust him thrice through the body, and saw him expire: he then divided the prize he had won among the widows whose hushands had been killed.

The death of this wonderful man I should be willing to conceal, did I not know that every reader, will inquire curiously after that fatal hour, which is common to all human beings, however distinguished from each other by nature or fortune.

The Duke of Mantua having received so many proofs of his various merit, made him tutor to his son Vincentio di Gonzago, a prince of loose manners and turbulent disposition. On this occasion it was, that he composed the comedy in which he exhibited so many different characters with exact propriety. But his honour was of short continuance; for, as he was one night in the time of Carnival rambling about the streets, with his guitar in his hand, he was attacked by six men in masks. Neither his courage nor skill in this exigence deserted him; he opposed them with such activity and spirit, that he soon dispersed them, and disarmed their leader, who throwing off his mask, discovered himself to be the prince his pupil. Chrichton falling on his knees, took his own sword by the point, and sented it to the prince; who immediately seized it, and instigated, as some say by jealousy, according to others, only by drunken fury and brutal resentment, thrust him through the heart.

pre

Thus was the Admirable Chrichton brought inlo that state, in which he could excel the meanest of mankind only by a few empty honours paid to his memory; the court of Mantua testified their esteem by a public mourning, the cotemporary wits were profuse in their encomiums, and the palaces of Italy were adorned with pictures, representing him on horseback, with a lance in one hand and a book in the other.

Epigrams.

A MATRIMONIAL THOUGHT, IN the blythe days of honey moon, With Kate's amusements smitten, I lov'd her late, I lov'd her soon, And call'd her dearest Kitten. But now my kitten's grown a cat, And cross like other wives, O, by soul, my honest Pat, I fear she has nine lives.

TAKE UP YOUR CROSS, & FOLLOW ME.
A countryman whose scolding wife,
Made him quite weary of his life,
As once, at church, he thoughtful sat,
Devoutly fumbling with his hat,
And cursing in his heart the banns
And parson who had join'd their hands;
Rous'd by his text, which chanc'd to be,
"Take up your cross, and follow me;"
Dobson now seriously attended,
"Till spintext had his sermon ended,
Then threw his wife upon his back,
As pedlars do a heavy pack;

Spite of her threatening and her squalling,
He, through the church, his wife was hauling;
O'ertook the parson on the road,

And down before him threw his load.
The congregation, all amaz'd,
With curious eyes upon them gaz'd.
Spintext cried, "Friend you're surely wild,
"Or liquor has your brains beguil'd;
Or, why this uproar, fellow? say!
Know ye not 'tis the sabbath day?"
"Drunk! no, an't please you, drunk I'm not;
But sure your worship has forgot,
Your text just now, which you'll agree,
Was, "Take your cross, and follow me."
This is my cross; a jade perverse,
In troth, she is my only curse."

Epitaphs.

IN SOUTH MOLTON CHURCH-YARD,
DEVONSHIRE.

HERE lieth a friend, John Whito-
Where all must go-good night.

ON FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES,

Son of George II., and Father of George III. from Hogg's Jacobite Relics."

66

HERE lies Prince Fede,

Gone down among the dead;
Had it been his father,
We had much rather;
Had it been his mother,
Better than any other;
Had it been his sister,

Few would have miss'd her;
Had it been the whole generation,
Ten times better for the nation;
But since 'tis only Fede,
There's no more to be said.

IN ST. LUKE'S CHURCH-YARD,

NORWICH,

Erected by the defunct's heir to shew kis affection for his Uncle.

STRANGER, stranger, drop a tear,
On one who ever knew good cheer,
Who always had his belly full,
Let it be hot, or let it be cool:
He knew full well the dinner hour,
And never failed, if in his power,
To do his best to eat and stuff,
And never thought he had enough.
At drinking, too, he did not fail,

He was so fond of home brew'd ale;
But what follow'd I foresaw-
Gout o'ertook him with his claw,
And never let him go again
Until it free'd him from his pain,
And took him-where?-I cannot tell,
But I suppose it was to hell.

ON SIR J. MOORE.

REST honour'd dust: rise gallant soul:
Tho' boundless time's vast sea may roll,
And sweep with mighty flood away,
The boasted fragments of a day;
Thy tow'ring fame, shall proudly keep
Its laurell'd summit o'er the deep,
Base party's fiercest storm defy,
And lose its bright top in the sky.

ON MY WIFE.

BY FAULKNER,

HOW oft we find, while musing o'er the dead,
What worth, what beauty, what perfection's fled.
Must thou unnotic'd singly rest alone,
No deed of grace to sanctify thy stone;
The proudest tomb boasts not a fairer she,
Nor tells one virtue that was not in thee.

Humour.

EQUALITY.

A waggish priest (John Scotus was his name)
Contain'd mnch humour in a little frame,
Once at the board of France's king he sat,
Where, facing him, two prelates, tall and fat,
In all the pomp of mitred gran leur shone,
And look'd with sneering eyes on little John.
"John," cried the king, "I send these fish to you,
Carve for yourself, and help your neighbours too.'
Three fish there were, two salmen plump and vast,
The third a puny sprat-this Scotus pass'd
To his proud neighbours, who well might stare
To see him take two salmon for his share.
"Ha!" quoth the king, "twould seem, methinks,
more pat,

If those the salmon had, and thou the sprat."
"Sire," replied John, "I'll prove that I divide
With strictest justice, thus to either side,
Equality now reigns throughout your hall;
Here are, you see, two big ones, and one small,
And, if your highness looks, you'll hardly blame
To see on that side, too, the very same,'

In the village Church of Colmworth, Bedfordshire, is a very magnificent Monument, erected in 1641, by Lady DYER, in memory of her husband, Sir WILLIAM DYER. The Inscription informs us that the deceased and his lady had multiplied themselves into seven children.The following quaint lines appear on the monument.

My dearest dust, could not thy hasty day,
Afford thy drowsy patience leave to stay
One hour later, so that we might either
Have sat up or gone to bed together;
But since thy finish'd labour hath possess'd
Thy weary limbs with early rest,
Thy well beloved, and ever faithful bride,
Shall soon repose her by thy slumb'ring side,
Whose business now is only to prepare
My nightly dress, and call to prayer;
Mine eyes wax heavy, and the day grows old,
The dew falls thick, my blood runs cold;
Draw, draw the closed curtains, and make room,
My dear, my dearest dust, I come, 1 come.

FOR A WATCH.

COULD but our tempers move like this machine,
Not urg'd by passion, nor delay'd by spleen,
And true to nature's regulating power,
By virtuous acts, distinguish every hour;
Then Health and joy would follow as they ought,
The laws of motion, and the laws of thought;
Sweet health to pass the present moments o'er,
And everlasting joy, when time shall be no more.

Miscellanies.

DEMORALIZATION.-It is mentioned, that sixteen young girls abandoned their friends and their homes, and marched away with that portion of the 85th regiment of foot which left Huddersfield last week. A girl, of the name of Letitia Bedford, who was prevented from accompanying her companions, went out some time after and hanged herself.

TEACHING A COW.-A gentleman riding near his own house in Ireland, saw a cow's head and forefeet appear at the top of a ditch, through a gap in the hedge on the road side; he heard a voice alternately threatening and encouraging the cow; he was induced to ride up close to the scene of action, when he saw a boy's head appear behind the cow. "My good boy,' said he, "that's a fine cow." "Och, that she is," replied the boy, “and I am teaching her to get her own living, plase your honor." The gentleman did not precisely understand the meaning of the expres sion, and, had he directly asked for an expla nation, would probably have died in ignorance -but the boy, proud of his cow, encouraged an exhibition of her talents; she was made to jump across the ditch several times, and this adroitness in breaking through fences was termed " getting her own living." Thus, as soon as a cow's education is finished, she may be sent loose into the world to provide for herself; turned to graze in the poorest pas ture, she will be able and willing to live on

the fat of the land.

UNIVERSALITY OF TAXATION.

FROM THE EDINBURGH REVIEW.

TAXES upon every article which enters into the mouth, or covers the back, or is placed under the foot-taxes upon every thing which is pleasant to see, hear, feei, smell, and tastetaxes upon warmth, light, and locomotiontaxes on every thing on earth, and the waters under the earth-on every thing that comes from abroad, or is grown at home-taxes on the raw materials-taxes on every fresh value that is added to it by the industry of man-taxes on the sauce which pampers man's appetite, and the drug that restores him to healthon the ermine which decorates, the Judge, and the rope which hangs the criminal-on the