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“On the 22d, the day after the execution, I was in hereditary monarchy. Scarcely bad I laid it op his table, formed some one wished to speak with me: it was Harrel, when he entered, and, seeming to run it over, asked, “Have commandant of Vincennes. The following is word for you read this?'-'Yes. General.'— Well! what think you word what he said. Harrel perhaps thought he owed me of it?'—“That pamphlet, General, is of a nature to do much some gratitude, to be repaid by these particulars; but he was harm in public opinion : it appears to me ill-timed, for it not my debtor; it was much against my will that he had reveals your designs prematurely.' The First Consul threw kept up Ceracchi's conspiracy, and received the reward of the brochure on the ground, as he had the habit of doing a feigned accomplice.
with all the absurdities of the day, after running rapidly “* The evening before last,' said he, when the Prince through them. I was not the only one who judged thus ; arrived, I was asked if I had the means of lodging a pri- for next day arrived copies from the prefects nearest Paris, soner. I replied no, that there remained only my own with complaints of the mischievous effects it was producing apartment and the council chamber. I was then told to I remember one of these representations stated, that such a have a chamber immerliately prepared, in which a prisoner, tract was enough to unsheathe the daggers of fresh assaswho would arrive in the course of the night, might sleep. sins. He glanced over this correspon dence: Bourrienne, I was also desired to cause a grave be made in the court. 'I send for Fouché ; let him come hither with full speed, and replied, that would not be easy, the court being paved. render me an account.' In balf an hour, Fouché formed What other place, it was asked, would answer? The ditch thirdsman in our cabinet. • What about this pamphlet ?' was fixed upon, and there, in fact, the grave was dug. said the Consul, beginning and continuing the dialogue
" • The Prince arrived about seven o'clock in the evening. with the greatest warmth wbat say they of it in Paris ?' He was dying of cold and hunger; he did not appear sad. - General,' replied the minister, with coolness imperturbHe requested me for something to eat, and desired to be able, and slightly sardonic, all pronounce it to be extreme: shown to bed after his repast. His chamber not being yet ly dangerous. - Eb, well! why then have you allowed it warmed, I received him in my own, and sent to the village to appear? It is an insult.' – General, some delicary was for some food. The Prince placed himself at table, and in- to be observed in regard to the author.'—Delicacy ! 'what vited me to be seated with him. Afterwards, he put a mean you ? You ought to have clapped him into the number of questions to me about Vincennes, what was Temple.'— But, General, your brother Lucien bas taken passing, and a great many other things. He told me he this said pamphlet under his especial protection; the printhad been brought up in the neighbourhood of the castle; ing and publishing were by his order ; in short, it came and conversed with much affability and condescension from the ministry of the Interior.'_ It is all one to me! Among other enquiries, he asked, Why do they want me? Then, it was your duty, as minister of Police, to have ar'. What is their purpose with me? But these questions pro rested Lucien, and incarcerated him in the Temple. Blockduced no alteration in his tranquillity, and evinced no un head that he is ! he contrives al ways to compromise me.' easiness. My wife, who was sick, was in bed in an alcove At these words, the Consul left the cabinet, pulling the of the same apartment, separated only by a grating : she door after him with violence. · Put the author into the heard, without being perceived, all this conversation, and Temple!' exclaimed Fouché, who, from the half smile on experienced the most lively emotion ; for she recognised the his lips during Bonaparte's wrath, I clearly perceived had Prince, whose fuster sister she had been; and the family had something in reserve; that would be difficult indeed! Do settled a pension upon her before the Revolution.
you know,' continued he, turning to me, that, alarmed at " • The Prince was in haste to retire to rest; he had need the effect certain to be produced by the • Parallel,' so soon of some; but before he could have been well asleep, the as I got notice of it, I hastened with all speed to Lucion, judges caused him to be brought into the council chamber. to make him aware of his imprudence: upon this, in place I was not present at the examination. On its conclusion, of answering me, he set about rummaging in a drawer, the Duke again ascended to his chamber; and when they went whence he drew forth a manuscript, and showed me : And to seek bim, in order to read the sentence to bim, he was what think you I saw there? Corrections and annotations in a profound sleep. A few moments after, they were in the handwriting of the First Consul!' leading him to execution. He had so little apprehension “ Lucien, informed of the First Consul's displeasure, of this, that, while descending the stair which conducts into came also to the Tuileries, reproaching his brother with the moat, he asked where they were taking him ; no one having placed him in advance, and afterwards abandoning made any reply. I walked before the Prince with a lan- him. • It is your own fault,' said the First Consul; 'you tern; feeling the cold which came froin below, he grasped have permitted yourself to be entrapped. Well! so much my arm, and said, “Will they throw me into a dungeon ?" the worse for you! Fouché has been too dexterous too able
* Such was Harrel's simple narrative. The rest is too for youyou are but a d-d ass in comparison.' Lucien well known. I think I yet see him shudder when think- gave in his resignation, which was accepted, and set out for ing of this action of the unhappy Prince. Savary was not Spain." in the ditch at the moment of the execution, but, for a cer
When the third volume of this translation makes its tainty, on the glacis above, whence he could easily overlook the whole. Much has been said of a lantern, reported to appearance, we shall probably offer our opinion more in have been fixed to a button-hole on the Duke's breast. That detail on the general character of Bourrienne's work, and eircumstance is pure invention. Captain Dantancourt, on the precise nature of the secretary's intellectual enhaving a weak sight, made the lantern carried by Harrel dowments. In the meantime, we can safely say that his be brought close, in order to read to the unfortunate Prince Memoirs are full of interest and instruction. the sentence and what a sentence !-by which he had been condemned, both unjustly, and without even the forms of justice. It was probably this use of the lantern which gave rise to the outcry spread abroad; besides, it was six An Address to the De'il, by Robert Burns ; with explanaw clock in the morning when the fatal event took place, and
tory Notes. Illustrated eleven engravings on wood, on the 21st March it is light at that hour.”
after designs by Thomas Landseer. London. WilAs farther illustrative of Bonaparte's character, we liam Kidd. subjoin the following interesting passage :
We are conscious of a pleasure in glancing over this THE HISTORY OF A PAMPHLET_BON APARTE'S DUPLICITY.
brochure somewhat analogous to that which we experi“ I have often had occasion to remark the innumerable
ence in reading of the devout adıniration and astonishment means employed by Bonaparte to arrive at sole power, and to prepare the public mind for so great a change. He held of the Lilliputians at the advent of Captain Gulliver. it as a maximf which, indecd, the events of his life. The corporeal bulk of the gallant navigator, far less tranprove the truth-that this preparation accomplished, by the scended that of the gracious inbabitants of Lilliput, than wople becoming accustomed to a report, all energy is taken does the mind of Burns that of his illustrator, Mr Landfrom opposition, at the moment any plan comes to be actu- seer, or of his explainer, the anonymous gentleman who ally exeruted. The followiug is a curious history of a has here tagged foot-notes to his verses. These two amipamphlet
, launched into the world as a tentative upon he- able co-operatives, nestling among the Bard's relics, not reditary power :-In December, 1800, while Fouché was in unaptly remind us of a pair of loving insects (delicacy pursuit of the five contrivers of the plot just described, ap- forbids us to name them) sporting their little hour amid peared a pamphlet, entitled 'Parallel between Cesar, Cromwell, and Bonaparte. He was abseut when I re- the curls and buckles of a cast wig. We are sometimes ceived and read this production, which openly preached angry-very angry indeed—when a man, that is, a hu
man and masculine being, perpetrates absurd embellish- tions of Shakspeare. Several of his illustrations are quite ments, or worse commentaries, on a favourite author ; hideous,—mean in design, and totally out of drawing. but far other emotions stir our breast on beholding the His best effort is a humorous subject from the “ Taming minikin strutting and cockney pretensions of Landseer of the Shrew.” Westall is, in the present instance, not and his coadjutor. Their grimace is neither more nor much better than Corbould, though we know he can do less than exquisitely contemptible. The woodcuts (en- better things when he exerts himself. The subjects he gravings we will not call them) are too low even for con- has chosen are, Ophelia drowning herself, and Imogen in tempt. They evince neither knowledge of character, huc boy's clothes - both quite out of drawing. Wright is very mour, nor even feeling of art. The commentator's object unequal : some of his groups are excellent ; others vulgar is not to explain the poem, for, in the first place, the and unpoetical. We are most pleased with his Malvolin, poem is intelligible to every one who has a tithe of hu- and his quarrel between Pistol and Bardolph. Stephanman intellect; in the second place, the commentator does off is always elegant, but too frequently not much more. not possess that small modicum, and consequently cannot His scene from “ Much ado about Nothing," Benedict understand it. He is a dwarf-witted retainer of a small sent to bid Beatrice come in to dinner, is spirited ; only artist, whose office it is to stand behind his master's chair, | Benedict is a little too much after the model of Charles laugh at his jokes, applaud every word he utters, and con. Kemble-rather too stout for our liking. Smirke, in his firm every fact he asserts. His duty is not to comment five illustrations, appears to much greater advantage than on Burns, but to praise Landseer. Erempli gratia,— any of the other artists. All his pieces are good, and full “ Burns, like Orpheus or Theseus of old, must have evi- of rich Shakspearian humour. His Anne Page and Justice dently penetrated” (evidently penetrated ! is there any Shallow could not be easily surpassed. His scene with meaning in the phrase?) " into the very recesses of his Falstaff and his merry crew, from “ Henry IV.," is not (Auld Hornie's) infernal kingdom; and to the fortunate inferior. On the whole, this is a creditable work, and event of our Poet's (our Poet! the impertinent scrib- many of the engravings are beautifully executed by bler!) returning alive into the cool air of Ayrshire, we Heath, Rolls, and others. owe those touches of occupation and character which Mr Landseer has worked up into the preceding sketch.” The Natural History of Selborne ; Observations on vnWhich being interpreted out of the jargon of Cockaigue
rious Parts of Nature; and the Naturalist's Calendar. into plain English, means :-- It is as well Burns wrote
By the late Rev. Gilbert White. M. A. fc. With Adhis Address to the De'il, as he has thus bad the honour of suggesting a few thoughts to the master-mind of
ditions, by Sir William Jardine, Bart. &c. &c. A Landseer.
New Edition. Edinburgh. Constable and Co. 1830. We believe our readers will think they have
18mo. enough of Mr Landseer and his “ Back,"—of Master
Pp. 430. Slender and his waiting-man.
We noticed the edition of this excellent and popular
work which appeared in Constable's Miscellany, with the Sclect Views of the Lakes of Scotland, from original Paint- praise it deserved. To the present edition is subjoined, ings, by John Fleming, E.M.G.D.S. Engraved by White's . Observations on various Parts of Nature,”
“ Naturalist's Calendar,” and the original alphabetical Joseph Swan, M.G.D.S. ; with Historical and Descriptive Ilustrations, by John M. Leighton, Esq.,
Author index, which were excluded formerly from the space of Descriptive Illustrations of Views on the Clyde, fc. have hitherto been published in two parts, because ad
The author's letters, too, which Glasgow. Joseph Swan. 1830. This is the first number of a work full of interest to such chronological order ; and thus the same subjects are treat
dressed to two different persons, have been arranged in as have it not in their power to visit our lake scenery, and ed consecutively, which we look upon as a great improvealso to such as, having revelled through its charms, wish
It is but right to add, that we have nowhere at times to re-awaken the feelings they then experienced.
seen a more elegantly-printed volume. It issues from Mr Swan has established his character among scientific the press of Mr Andrew Shortreed, who has but recently men, as an accurate and elegant engraver; and every new commenced business, but who bids fair speedily to diswork he publishes in that higher department of his art tinguish bimself in the useful profession he bas chosen. to which the present belongs, shows more matured taste and power.
His workmanship is clean and fine; there is much softness in his distances ; and the general effect A Synopsis of Roman Antiquities; or a comprchensive is good. What we cbiefly desiderate, is a less painful at Account of the City, Religion, Politics, and Customs of tention to the details of form-a bolder reliance on gene the Ancient Romans : with a Calechetical Appendir. By ral effect; and his figures, too, miglit be executed with more John Lanktree. Second Edition. Dublin. William elegance. The present part is confined to the illustration Curry, Jun, and Co. 1830. 241mo. Pp. 217. of Loch Lomond, and contains four highly picturesque This is an excellent little book, and admirably adaptviews of that beautiful expanse of water, with its islands ed for the use of all the younger students at public and and surrounding mountains. The letter-press appears to private seminaries. It will not supersede the more labobe sensible, and not uninstructive. The work to be rious work of Adams, but it forms a very appropriate incompleted in 12 or 14 parts, and there is good reason to troduction to it; and at the same time, whilst it is writbelieve that it will be the best collection extant of the ten in a more popular and easy style, it contains some Lake Scenery of Scotland.
pieces of information which Adams wants.
Forty Illustrations to the Plays and Poems of Shakspeare ;
MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. after Designs by Wilkie, Smirke, Wright, Stephanoff, and Corbould. London. J. F. Dove, and Jennings
Tried and acquitted. and Chaplin. 1830.
For the name of Wilkie introduced into the title-page My story is short. Mine is the triumph of a just venof this work, that of Westall must be substituted, as geance. Betrayed and dishonoured by a false friend, I Wilkie has contributed nothing to it, and Westall has punished his perfidy with death, and yet live to tell the given two illustrations. The labour among the tive artists melancholy tale. The hand that now traces these lines has been divided thus ;-Westall, 2 illustrations; Stepha!- is crimsoned o'er with the blood of the guilty one: it is off, 3; Smirke, 5; Corbould, 14; and Wright, 16. Cor- the same that presented the deadly weapon to his heart, bould bas, on the whole, indicated least genius. He seems and, in the twinkling of an eye, hurried him into the but little capable of coping with the high poetical concep- presence of his Judge, with all his fu!l-blown, unrepented
sins upon his head! I am a murderer! with my own read as follows:-“ Hilton, look to yourself: You are lips I have proclaimed myself such : the mark of Cain is cherishing a viper in your bosom, who may sting you in upon me, and, like the first homicide, I am now a wan the tenderest part, if the reptile has not done so already. derer upon the face of the earth, without house or home, Melford is a villain, and you are the blindest of husbands. sbed or shelter ; an object of terror to my fellow-men, Look to yourself. Be watchful, and you will soon find who fly my approach as if it were that of some dreadful out the truth. Your generous and unsuspecting confithing, and scarcely daring to hope even for the mercy of dence has been grossly abused : I have seen that which I Heaven at last. Yet I feel no remorse for the deed which dare not tell you of, for I respect your honourable chahas thus driven me from the society of mankind, and con racter, and regret the torture which a perasal of this will demned me to drag out the remainder of a wretched ex
Once more, look to yourself!" istence, an exile and an outlaw, in a foreign land. The I read this dreadful letter over, and over, and over wild shriek of my victim when the bullet pierced his again, till my brain actually began to burn. I threw heart, and the expiring groan vbich instantly followed, myself on a couch, and for a moment gave way to the still resound in my ears; I see him stretched upon the agony of my feelings. Returning reflection, however, ground, the blood welling from his death-wound, and the speedily conjured up a thousand reasons for disbelieving last faint, convulsive struggle, quivering through his fine, the horrible tale which it told. It was anonymous.
It muscular frame. The dreadful scene is ever present to my might be the production of some maliguant fiend, who mind's eye, in the waking dreams of the day, or in the sought this method of poisoning my happiness, and wreakvisions of the night : yet I shed no tears, I feel no re- ing his vengeance on my friend. Besides, could I doubt morse, and, like one stupified by a blow, continue to gaze, the purity and fidelity of one who had given me so many as it were, on the scene so deeply pictured on my ima- proofs of the strongest affection, and who seemed to live gination, in a state of uncertain and wavering conscious only for the purpose of making me happy ? Such treachness, from which no effort can rouse me. My revenge ery and hypocrisy were not in human nature. The exwas satisfied : an act of wild justice was done : the guilty perience of life revealed nothing either of that super-ceone suffered : my wrongs were expiated in his blood; lestial virtue or ultra-diabolical vice, which fabulists feign, and the laws of man pursued me in vain : but I think and silly maidens give credit to. The whole was evinot of these things. My brain is compressed; a sort of dently an exaggeration of the most Satanic malignity, haze overshadows my faculties ; my sensibility is seared : which attempted, by one act, to involve three persons in the past I regard without horror; to the future I look misery and ruin. forward with indifference. I am now alone in the world, In this mood of mind I tore the letter to atoms, and and my chief consolation is, that I am the last of my race. threw it into the fire. But I had scarcely done so when
Melford had long been my friend. Our tastes were a multitude of recollections rushed upon my mind, and the same, our porsuits similar, our intercourse daily. He gave a totally different direction to the current of my lived in the immediate vicinity of my residence, and as thoughts. The circumstances which I bad before consi. he was an unmarried man, my house was his home. He dered as merely indications of esteem and regard, I now came at all times and at all hours, and was ever welcome. interpreted into proofs, strong as holy writ, of criminality, From the first his society was agreeable to my wife, and and I felt confounded at thinking of my own stupidity. it gave me pleasure that my friend was also hers. Mel. Besides, the letter had called upon me to be watchful, ford seemed to repay the notice with which she honoured and observe for myself. There could be no harm in that him by a thousand little attentions and services, which
at any rate.
It had also repeated thrice the injunction, more and more recommended him to her favour, and “ Look to yourself.” “ This,” thought I,“ is not the which I thought perfectly natural, in the relation in which language of one who seeks only the gratification of maall parties stood to one another. It sometimes, indeed, lice or revenge. I will be watchful ; I will look to myself.” struck me that the praises she lavished on my friend were With this determination I descended to the breakfastunnecessarily warm, and I occasionally rallied her, in a parlour, where my wife was waiting to receive me. She good-humoured way, about her partiality for Melford, seemed startled at my appearance, and asked, in a flurthreatening to grow jealous, if she did not moderate ber ried manner, if I was ill. I looked her steadfastly in her commendations and eulogies ; but not so much as a sba- face; a hectic flush overspread her cheek.; she shrunk dow of suspicion had crossed my mind of the purity of from my gaze, and, trembling, sunk down upon a chair. her conduct, or the honour of the man whom I trusted All the demons of passion suddenly entered my heart, and loved. My confidence in both parties was unbound- and took possession of my whole soul, while dreadful ed; and being naturally of a cheerful and joyous tem- thoughts presented themselves to my mind, and I was on perament, which generally disposes men to view things the very verge of giving way to the blind fury which in the most favourable light, I never so much as imagined was burning within me. But fortunately I had selfthe possibility of treachery on the one hand, or infidelity command enough to suppress these dreadful tendencies, on the other. Indeed, I would have loathed myself had and, after a mental struggle of a few moments, to recover I been capable, for a single instant, of harbouring such some degree of composure. I then said, in a subdued an idea in my mind.
tone, that I had received some very ill news that mornThings continued for some time in this state, when, ing, touching the state of my affairs, which had discomone morning, walking in my garden, a letter was thrown posed me very much, and, I feared much, had caused me over the wall, and fell at my feet. I instantly picked it to behave oddly, but that the first tidings of misfortune up, and, looking at the envelope, found it was directed to were always worse to bear than the evil itself, when the myself. I then ran to the postern-door of the garden, full extent of it was known, and that I trusted matters which, in my hurry, I burst open, without waiting to were not so bad as some had thought fit to represent turn the bolt; but there was no one to be seen. I pur- them. My wife seemed greatly relieved by this statesued my reconnoissance round and round, with no better ment, which she of course interpreted literally, and resuccess. An indescribable and overwhelming presenti- suming her wonted manner, gently reproached me for ment of some approaching calamity came over me; I giving way to such feelings, and particularly for alarm. trembled from head to foot, and my legs had scarcely ing her so much as I had done. "What signified the loss strength sufficient to support me : for some moments I of a little money, when we felt so happy in each other's remained fixed to the spot, in a sort of epileptic stupor love? Industry might repair it, or economy might com. and imunobility, like a man who had been fascinated by pensate it; and, at all events, nothing could be gained by the glare of a basilisk. Fearful of being observed, how- making oneself miserable." I nodded assent to these ob. ever, I roused myself—returned to my own chamber-servations, which she followed up by exerting herself in bolted the door-tore open the envelope of the letter, and every way she could think of to soothe and compose the
evident excitement under which I was labouring. But, during which my mind was torn by the most violent and notwithstanding every effort on my part to appear to conflicting passions that ever agitated the humau breast. yield to her influence, I could not help shrinking from At first I was inclined to think that the second figure her caresses, as from contact with a venomous thing, and might be that of the maid who attended on my wife, but betraying an uneasiness and irritation, which I felt it closer inspection convinced me that could not be the case; vain to repress or conceal. In truth, my whole nature for, from the frequency with which the shadows at last had been suddenly changed, and the devil sat by my crossed the windows, it seemed evident that persons with. heart, like the serpent at the ear of Eve, whispering the in were toying and dallying ; and one of these shadows most dreadful temptations.
was too tall to render it possible that it could be cast But my resolution was taken. I had seen enough in either by my wife or by any one of the servants. the conduct of my wife to convince me there was some Tbe time for action was come; I cleared the gardenthing which she dreaded more than misfortune; the hor- wall at a single bound, and in an instant was at one of rid suspicions excited by the anonymous letter, had been, the lower windows, which I promptly proceeded to force. to a certain degree, contirmed; but, as my brain was This alarmed the servants, and a cry of “ Robbers !" was heated and agitated, and as nothing short of absolute cer- raised, as I had calculated it would. I made good my tainty could warrant my taking any decisive step, I de- entrance with some difficulty, and had just regained my termined to wait and watch. It was necessary for my feet, when the door of the room burst open, and-Melpurpose to dissemble ; and, hard as it is for an open, can- ford stood before me. God only knows what my feelings did, and generous nature to descend to the meanness of were at beholding an apparition which but too well condissimulation, I could devise no other means which ap-firmed my worst suspicions. Melford was partially unpeared at all likely to promote the object I had in view. dressed, and I could have no doubt whatever that the Accordingly, I gradually resumed, though not without villain had completed his own infamy and my dishonour. an effort, my usual manner; saw Melford as before ; re I remained for a moment riveted to the spot, and ere I ceived him with even more than iny wonted kindness ; recovered my senses, the traitor had vanished.
Brave as took frequent occasions of leaving my wife and him alone a lion on all lawful occasions, guilt had made him fly, together; went out and came into tbe place where they although no one pursued. I went up leisurely to my happened to be for the time, with an air of the utmost own private apartment_loaded, and double-shotted my indifference and nonchalance; affected gaiety and good pistols—stowed them carefully into the inside pockets of spirits; and, in short, did every thing in my power to my coat—and left the house, by the principal door, with. lull to sleep any suspicions which might have been exci- out ostensibly indicating hurry or agitation. But when ted in the mind of my wife by my hurried and agitated I had fairly cleared the house, and got beyond the reach bebaviour on the morning when the fatal letter was flung, of observation, I few on the wings of revenge, and with with such precision, at my feet. I was resolved to be the speed of lightning, after the ruffian whose death I lieve no other evidence than those of my own eyes; and had already sworn. He had some distance to go, and a feeling assured that if a guilty intercourse had ever ex- considerable detour to make, before he could reach his isted, it would be renewed as soon as the parties thought home. I cut across the fields like an arrow, in order to themselves perfectly safe from risk or suspicion, I par- | intercept him in his retreat, and I had barely time to sued my scheme with a systematic perseverance, the re- clear the last dyke, when the traitor once more stood betrospect of which even now fills my own mind with fore me. He was pow completely at bay. The race astonishment, that I should have been able to carry it had chafed his blood, and he was become a desperate man. through.
He sprung at me like a tiger, with a determination to When I had succeeded, as I thought, in lulling all sus- overpower me, which his superior strength would have picion, and throwing the parties completely off their easily enabled him to do, had he been fortunate enough guard, I suddenly announced to my wife my intention to lay hold of me; but I recoiled from his grasp, and ere of setting out immediately for the metropolis ; alleging he could recover himself, a brace of bullets had pierced as the cause, some urgent business connected with the bis heart. He uttered a wild shriek as he fell—exclaimed, misfortune I had previously mentioned, which rendered | “ I am guilty, and undone !" and heaving a deep, hollow, my presence quite indispensable. She received the an- convulsive moan, instantly expired. Vengeance had done nouncement without any apparent emotion, only express- its work, and I was satisfied. Enough of blood had been ing her regret that she should be separated from one she shed. so tenderly loved, even for the short period during which I returned quietly to my own home, which I found my I proposed being absent; and when all things were ready wife had quitted about half an hour previously. This, for my departure, she embraced me with an affectionate to me, in the state I then was, proved a source of great earnestness and fervour, wbich touched me so much, that satisfaction ; for when an injured and a frantic man has my purpose, hitherto so steadily pursued, was almost once embrued his hands in blood, the devil may easily shaken. At length, however, I set out, consoling my- tempt him to add to the load of guilt which already overself with the reflection, that, if she was innocent, no pos- burdens his soul. I was prepared for every thing ; even sible harm could come by my design, and, if guilty, the death, in its most ignominious form, bad no horrors in sooner detection followed the better. There is nothing prospect for me. But the first overmastering impulse of so dreadful as uncertainty; in any case it is better to passion was past, and I resolved not to endanger my life know the worst. I set out, I say, but not for London. by any act of mine. In fact, I was unnaturally calm; Concealing myself till nightfall in a hedge alehouse at so much so, that I coolly unshotted the pistol wbich had some distance, I returned, under cover of the darkness, not been fired, cleaned the other, and replaced both in the to the neighbourhood of my own residence, and cautiously exact situation from which I had taken them an hour bereconnoitred the premises, without, however, making any fore, when about to proceed on my murderous errand. I discovery. Still I dodged about, wrapt up in my cloak, then retired to my couch, but not to rest, for although and as the night advanced, I began to grow weary of the man on the rack may sleep in the intervals of the torwatching, and was about to go back to my wretched ture, no such boon awaits the murderer, whose bands are quarters, where I proposed to remain for several days, still red with the blood of his victim. when suddenly a light tlashed upon my eyes, appearing With the earliest dawn of day the body of Melford to emanate from my wife's bedroom window. I instantly was found, and ere noon the story of my dishonour was drew near, and approaching as closely as the garden-wall in every mouth. It was patural to connect these two would permit, I observed the window occasionally dark- things together, and I was universally believed to be the ened with the shadow of two persons. This occurred slayer. The authorities came to the same conclusion ; several times in the course of about a minute and a hall, ! for, after a short investigation, a warrant issued for my
apprehension, upon which I was seized and conveyed to
ORIGINAL POETRY. prison, there to remain till liberated in due course of law. From some cause unknown to me, an early day
DRAMATIC SKETCH. was fixed for my trial; and I was put to the bar to an
Scene,-A Churchyard. TIME,- Sunset. swer to an indictment charging me with the murder of
Enter Faust and MEPHISTOPHELES. Thomas Melford, at the time and place therein set forth. When the usual question was put to me from the bench, of, “ Are you guilty or not guilty of this charge?” I an The day is dying, and the heavy air swered, bowing respectfully to the judge, that I declined Which hangs here, seems in unison with it ; to plead. He seemed surprised, and reiterated the ques I'm sick at heart; my limbs are tired and slack ; tion ; but I adhered firmly to my resolution ; and a plea If I could rid me of this wearied flesh of “ Not guilty” was at length put in by my counsel, in As easily as snake shakes off his skin, my name, and with some hesitation accepted by the court. Here would I strip me, and desert this coil. The triat then proceeded, and a vast body of evidence was Better to meet the vigorous pangs of fire, adduced on the part of the prosecution, much of it calcu Tban be in this poor tenement pent up, lated to rouse the strongest suspicions of my guilt, but not Which shrinks and shivers in the breeze of heaven, one particle which had the least tendency to connect me And in its blessed sunshine sweats and droops. with the commission. I saw clearly that it would not
MEPHISTOPHELES. support a verdict of " guilty;" and the charge of the pre There, on that grassy mound of mortal dust, siding judge confirmed me in this opinion. Every moral / Which once, as you do, breathed, felt, lived, and suffer'd, presumption he said was against me ; but he felt bound Sit, whilst some wholesome doctrine I expound to tell the jury candidly that there was not a particle of Anent this same frail quality of flesh : legal evidence to warrant the conviction of the prisoner. But in my method I will nought resemble In consequence I was ACQUITTED.
Those grave and priestly men, who coolly take When the verdict had been recorded, and the judgment All things for granted which they can't explain, of the court, dismissing me from the bar, pronounced, I | Baiting their lines with honied words of heaven, rose and addressed the court and the jury nearly as fol- And dusting well the eyes of those they hook ; lows : “ My Lords and Gentlemen of the Jury,—You see Knowledge and sin are one, they sagely say, before you a man, who, although acquitted by the highest Enjoining ignorance and slavish love tribunal of this country of the crime charged against him, Love !—and for what?- For being made to drink is nevertheless guilty. I am the murderer of Melford. The bitterness of death, and, bitterer still, He died by this arm, at the time and place mentioned in An immortality of pain. The woes the indiotment; and, as I hope for mercy at last, I de- of life, too, have their galling sting, though short; clare my firm conviction that he merited his fate. The For they are vulgar, grovelling, petty things, viper I had warmed in my bosom stung me to the heart, Which pin the soul to earth, and make it feel and infused a deadly venom into the wound. He dis Its marriage with the clod, as do its joys, honoured me, and I slew him. He died confessing his All scanty, gross, enervating, and false; crime. Mingled with his expiring groans, came forth Spirit aud clay !-a pretty unison,the words, · I am guilty, and undone l' Gentlemen of the By Heaven ! the workmanship is wondrous strange! Jury, had your verdict been different, I would have sub What's here ?-A skull !--there's life within it yet : mitted to my fate with due resignation ; but I saw no See, where a venomous and pursy toad reason to incur, by my own act, the certainty of an ig- Hath crept within the jaw's distorted grin, nominious fate; and as I had resolved not to plead guilty, And, squatting in the empty house of thought, I could not, consistently with the confession I had de-Peers, with his evil eyes of reddish rheum, termined to make, should the verdict prove an acquittal, Through what were once the windows of the soul: begin by uttering a judicial lie. This is my sole reason
Look! from the corners of the yellow jaws, for refusing to plead, which, I understand, is a very un
How oozeth out the sable toadish slime, usual occurrence in this court, I meant no disrespect by
Whence issued once a stream of honied sound; this proceeding, as I take no other benefit from the ac And yet this bony cell of foul corruption quittal which bas just been recorded than the prolonga- Was once the nursery of celestial thought, tion, for a short space, of a weary and miserable life. If The home of fancy, genius, and wit: any should regret the result of this day's procedure, let In worthless bottles who good wine would put ? them be consoled with the reflection, that I carry my own Wbo in a dunghill would conceal a pearl ? punishment along with me, that I cannot fly from my. Who but the cruel, Inconsistent One, self, and that I carry in this bosom a heart, seared, A portion of himself would thus inhume? blasted, and rendered for ever incapable of again expe
Faust. riencing ang pulse of joy or gladness. But perhaps there Methinks your fiendship 's turn'd philosopher ; are some generous spirits who will temper the severity | I thirst,-philosophy is dry and stale. of their censure in the remembrance of the wrongs I have
MEPHISTOPHELES. suffered, and who, while they condemn my prompt and
What wouldst thou have ? sanguinary revenge, will not withhold their commisera
Faust. tion from an unhappy man, whom the greatest of human
Whate'er the place affords. injuries drove to frenzy and despair.—My Lords and
MEPHISTOPHELES. Gentlemen, I respectfully bid you farewell.”
Then, like the Jewish leader, strike that stone. The above confession, I have been told, made a strong (Faust strikes a grave-stone, whence a stream of blood impression upon all who heard it. Some stared with as begins to flow.) tonishment, others whispered that I must be mad, not a
Faust. lew were moved even to tears, and the stern impersona Thou coz’ning sprite! 'tis blood ! I should have thought tion of justice itself showed that the ermine does not ex This ground had scarce possess'd such living streams. elude human feelings and sympathies. I left the court
MEPHISTOPHELES. under the influence of emotions which it would be vain Ho! doth it maze thee?--Stoop, I say, and drink; to attempt to describe ; and it is only now, after the lapse This ground is bless'd ; 'tis fat religious soil, of years, that I am able to tell you the short and melan The sacramental elements possessing ; choly story of Hilton the TRIED AND ACQUITTED. If thou hast faith enough, 'twill turn to wine,
Q. F. F. Q. S. As wine hath oft politely done to blood,