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ing, as we are told by Naudé, "How his negligence, the headless trunk I do wonder at these people! They had actually found its way out of pay one with fine speeches; they doors, and was returning to its old live upon sallads; and they pelt one haunt.

Wonderers may, if they please, exert their amazement at the aston

another with pebbles!" The wonderer finished his tour just as one would expect, and carried home to his Imperial Master a large flint ishing longevity of a tortoise, whe stone, which he bad been taught to was seen in good health at Bombay, wonder at, and to purchase at a on the Malabar Coast, by Captain high Sutherland, who commanded an inrate, as genuine Oriental bezoar. Naudé tells this story as of his own knowledge, but does not name the Emperour who made so sagacious a choice.

diaman in or about the year 1762. This venerable animal had been left by the Portuguese as an heirloom, when they delivered up the fortress to the English, as part of the portion of Princess Katherine, in 1662. The strength of this creature's shell enabled him to bear the weight of three soldiers at a time, and, old as he was, he would make a very considerable circuit, daily, to collect his common provender.

But since, in spite of all sarcasms, all admonitions, wonderers there will be, let us in charity endeavour to supply them with a few remarkably well-attested histories of events, so very surprising and so strangely unaccountable, that gaping and staring at them may be allowed, even to persons of comAnd that we may contribute our mon sense. The following tale, own particular share towards the which exactly suits the purpose, amusement of the wonderers, with would not deserve a place in any whom we have made so free, we book, except the Adventures of beg leave to tell them of a yew-tree, Baron Munchausen (a book written at Perrone, in Picardy, which in to amuse such as can be amused our earlier years affected us with with improbable, though ingenious, more astonishment than any object lies), had it not been told in a pub- we ever saw. It grew in the centre lick company by no less respectable of the cloister, near the Great a man than Dr. Henry Seabury, an Church: and before it was lopped, American Bishop. He mentioned, it had darkened the whole building, as an instance of the long retention and completely covered the cloister. of life in some animals, that he was Its trunk was prodigiously large, present at West-Chester, in the pro- more so than that of any treet we vince of New-York, when the body had ever seen before, or have seen of a turtle, intended for dinner (its since. But the more than traditionhead having been previously cut off), al history of the tree is a genuine was unaccountably missing. In subject for wonder. The monk spite of a long search, it was not who, with great politeness, did the found till the next day, and then it honours of the place, affirmed, that was discovered in a field, near two in the Tresor there was still existmiles from the house, to which it ing the grant of those lands, being was believed to have found its own then a wood of yew-trees, on which way, although two or three low fen- the church is built, dated in the ces must have been, some how or year 660. That in the said grant, other, passed by it. To add to the the present yew-tree is particularly wonder, it was so full of life after directed to remain (the rest of the it was brought home, that while the wood being rooted out) as a centre master was chiding his servant for to the building, and is pointed out

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by the name of The Old Yew-Tree. courage me at my study; and, alNo tree, perhaps, had ever its anti- though I was the master of some quity carried up quite so high be- gold, yet I had so few pieces, I well fore, and upon such very plausible knew it was none of my number: authority.

Naudé gives great food for wonderers, when he speaks of a species of scorpions in Italy, which are not only innocent, but so domestick as to be put between sheets to cool the beds during the heat of the weather in summer.

but, however, this being the first time I found gold, I supposed it left there by some means which I could not guess at. About three weeks after, coming again into my chamber in the dark, and laying down my gloves at the same place in my study, I felt under my hand a piece

The following artless narrative of money, which also proved a twenmay also assuredly be wondered at, ty-shilling piece of gold; this movwithout justly drawing any charge ed me to further consideration; but of folly on the wonderers. It is an after all my thoughtfulness, I could extract from a memorandum-book, not imagine any probable way way how in the handwriting of Paul Bowes, the gold could come there, and Esq. son of Sir Thomas Bowes, of thereupon I was tempted to feel of. London, and of Bromley Hall, Es- tentimes, in the dark, in that place sex, Knight, and dated 1673. The for more gold there, but I don't rememorandum-book is now in the member that I ever found any when possession of Mr. Brooke, of Nac. I went for those expectations and ton, in Suffolk, who is a descend- desires. About a month after the ant from the family, and who had second time, coming into my chamin his possession, in 1783, when ber in the dark, and laying down the extract was made, two or three my gloves in the same place, on the of the pieces of money referred to table in my study, as I used to do, in the story. I felt two pieces of money under

About the year 1658, after I my hand, which, after I had lighted had been some years settled in the my candle, I found to be two twenMiddle Temple, in a chamber in ty-shilling pieces; and about the Elm-court, up three pair of stairs, distance of six weeks after, in the one night as I came into my cham- same place and in the dark, I found *ber in the dark, I went into my stu- another piece of gold, and this about dy in the dark, to lay down my the distance of a month, or five or gloves upon the table in my study, six weeks. I several times after, at "for I then, being my own man, the same place, and always in the placed my things in their certain dark, found twenty-shilling pieces places, that I could go to them in of gold. At length being with my 9 the dark, and as I layed my gloves cousin Langton, grandmother to my Anodown, I felt under my hand a piece cousin Susan Skipwith, lately mar383 of money, which I then supposed, by ried to Sir John Williams, I told *feeling, to be a shilling; but when I her this story; and I don't remem

had light, I found it a twenty-shil- ber that I ever found any gold there ling piece of gold: I did a little re- after, although I kept that chamber flect how it might come there, yet about two years longer before I sold 3 could not satisfy my own thoughts, it to Mr. Anthony Weldon, who for I had no client then, it being now hath it (this being the 23d of Vseveral years before I was called to September, 1673). Thus I have to the bar, and I had few visitors that the best of my remembrance truly Almight by accident drop it there, and stated this fact: but could never ohol friends in town that might de know, or have any probable conjecsignedly lay it there as a bate to en- ture, how that gold was laid there."

VARIETIES.

From the Edinburg Magazine, for June, 1818 ORIGINAL LETTER AND POEM BY ROBERT BURNS.

No date, but supposed November or December, 1787.

see, from his cavern, grim Oppression
rise,
And throw on Poverty his cruel eyes ;
Keen on the helpless victim see him fly,
And stifle, dark, the feebly-bursting cry:
Mark ruffian Violence, distained with

crimes,

Rousing elate in these degenerate times;
View unsuspecting Innocence a prey,
As guileful Fraud points out the erring

way;

SIR,-The enclosed poem was written in consequence of your suggestion, last time I had the pleasure of seeing you. It cost me an hour or two of next morning's sleep, but did not please me; so it lay by, an ill-digested effort, till the other day that I gave it a critick brush. These kind of subjects are much hackneyed; and, besides, the wailings of the Hark, injur'd Want recounts the unrhyming tribe over the ashes of the great,

While subtle Litigation's pliant tongue
The life-blood equal sucks of Right and
Wrong:

listen'd tale,

are cursedly suspicious, and out of all And much-wrong'd Misery pours the uncharacter for sincerity. These ideas damped my Muse's fire; however, I have done the best I could, and, at all events, it gives me an opportunity of declaring that I have the honour to be, Sir, your obliged humble servant,

pitied wail!

Ye dark waste hills, and brown un. sightly plains,

Inspire and soothe my melancholy strains!
Ye tempests rage! ye turbid torrents

Monday Morning.

ROBERT BURNS.

To Charles Hay, Esq. Advocate.

roll!

Ye suit the joyless tenor of my soul :"
Life's social haunts and pleasures I re-

sign;

ON THE DEATH OF THE LATE LORD Benameless wilds and lonely wanderings

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AN ACCOUNT OF THE ORGAN

The gathering floods burst o'er the dis- In the cathedral church of Haarlem

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men.

in Holland,

Reckoned the first in the World.

IT contains eight thousand pipes, some of which are thirty-eight feet long, and sixteen inches in diameter; and has sixty-four stops, four separations, two shakes, two coup ling, and twelve bellows. The notes of this wonderful instrument can swell from the softest to the sublimest sounds; from the warbling of a distant bird, to the awful tone of thunder. It has a stop called the vox humana, which most admirably imitates the human voice, Handel, passing through Haarlem, could not of course resist the sight of the far-famed organ; he procured : the keys, &c. and amused himself.. some time; at length, he got into

one of his rhapsodies, and rolled be retreating. "No, no," cried he, along the deep and thundering notes, " you are deceived; Turenne till the very steeple shook. A man knows what he is about too well to passing by, entered the church, but give up the position he holds." In was so alarmed at the tremendous a few minutes afterwards, another noise of the instrument, and the officer entered, who declared, that

shaking of the church, that he ran all round the city, and swore, the devil had got the organ.

ST. MARY-LF-BONE.

From the same.
MONTICULI.

"I

they actually were retreating.
tell you," cried the general, angrily,
"it is impossible; but to be con-
vinced of it, I I will will go myself, and
see." He went, saw the French
troops were actually on the retreat,
and instantly exclaimed, " Turenne
is dead! He never would have
drawn back with life."

MONTICULI, who commanded the Austrian troops against Marshal Turenne, was reduced to despair Monticuli was right; the evening by finding that that general had before, Turenne was killed by a taken measures to cut off complete- cannon ball, at the moment that he ly the retreat of the Austrians, and was surveying through a telescope force them to give battle under the the situation of the enemy, and exgreatest disadvantage; there seem- ulting at having them completely in ed indeed no alternative for them his power. When Monticuli rebut to surrender at discretion, or be turned to Vienna, he addressed the cut to pieces. Unwilling to sacrt- Emperour in these words, " Sire, fice his men, and unable to brook I am come to present you my sword; the shame of seeing them surrender, it will henceforth be useless to me; Monticuli was pacing his tent in Turrenne is dead, and Monticuli the greatest agony of mind, when has no longer an antagonist worthy one of his officers entered to tell of him."

him, the French troops appeared to

POETRY.

From the European Magazine, for March, 1818.
THE ELFIN ARROW.*

POUND ON THE COAST OF MALTA.

PLEDGE of my own far-distant land,
Forgotten on this lonely strand,
In abject wretchedness how near
Art thou to him who views thee here!
Like thee on Scotia's wilds he grew
A mass of dark and changeful hue,
Yet haply once by science wrought,
And once with forms of beauty fraught-
Now idly thrown to whet the glaives
Of felon Turks and christian slaves!

Yet could those elves alert and bland,
That hover in the purple west,
Bring from one kind consenting hand,
A gift like this-it would be blest

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Beyond whatever fairy-wand
Raised from the gems of Samarcand :
But thus forgetting and forgot,
To bear an unregarded lot,
To waste among these rocks away
As barren and as blank as they-
This, this is wretchedness more base,
Poor relic! than thy resting-place.

Ill judg'd the dreaming anchorite,
That man in Eden must be blest;
The breath, the spirit of delight,

Dwelt only in the garden's guest.
Else why these summer-bowers among,
So rich in bloom, and sweets, and song;
Or on yon land, where lingers all
That time has sav'd from glory's fall,
Thus fondly turns my soul to dwell
On one grey roof-one misty dell?
Why!-but that life's own Eden-tree,
Love, social love! is there for me.

He knows not the pleasing sadness
Less alled to grief than gladness,
Which the pensive heart is proving,
When its life consists in loving,
As congenial pulses beat
With a mild and mutual heat.

He who can despise thee, woman,
Must be more or less than human :
On his heart a frost is seizing,
In his veins the blood is freezing :
If thou canst not, what can move it?
But his coldness none will covet;
Not a bosom shall contole

With his poor and paltry soul.

Some may say thine eyes are cheating,
Some may say thy love is fleeting,
Some may say-but I believe not;
Well I know thy smiles deceive not.
There is one, whose face my being
Finds redoubled life in seeing,
Who, with seraph smile, inspires
Gentle love and genial fires.

Fairy is her form of lightness,
Azure is her eye of brightness,
Snowy is her brow,-above it
Wreathe the auburn curis that love it,
Sweetly twining and invading
Rosy cheeks that need not shading:
Blush not at my telling thee,
Oh my love-that thou art she !

From the Literary Gazette, for May, 1818.
STANZAS FOR MUSICK.

WHEN life's illusive pleasures fade,
And peace the bosom has forsaken,
How welcome then is Friendship's aid!
How bright the visions Hope can waken!
And when at eve the Western Main
Upon her breast the sun-beam pillows,
How sweetly Musick's gentle strain
Can calm affliction's angry billows !-

And will not Love's enchanting smile Shed o'er the soul bright rays of gladness?

Alas! his light oft beams awhile,

And proves the harbinger of sadness :Let friendship then console thy breast! Let Hope inspire, and Musick cheer

To watch beneath this dark blue tide
The thousand lamps of ocean gaude;
Pillow'd on s.arry flowers to hear
The coral-seeker warbling near-
These are but pageants that beguile
Sick fancy back to Albine's isle;
To her blue eyes of swifter light,
And lips with living coral bright-
Can these suffice to soothe a fate
Thus gaudy, yet thus desolate?
O!-dark and fruitless as yon pile
Of coralline that weeds defile,
Is the rich spirit left alone,
Till crush'd and harden'd into stone!

Ye bigot islanders!-ye mourn'd

Your cross by felon Franks profan'd,
But faithful hearts the plunder scorn'd

While yet the glorious cross remain'd;
And mine could well your treasure spare
If hope-one holy hope was there :
It once had such unearthly wealth
As might have brav'd the bandit's stealth!
Still, like your saints' defrauded shrine,
It boasts its pledge of life divine,
But it has lost the gem, whose worth
Gave beauty to its place on earth.

Pledge of my native land, farewell!-
Thou art not here, neglected stone !
The only exile left to dweil
In baleful solitude unknown;
Nor bearest thou alone a trace

Of love's sweet fable, Psyche's face*-
Those cherub features that express
The soul all peace and loveliness :
A heart as firm as thee shall keep
The beauteous symbol grav'd as deep,
And it may break like thee, but never
Lose the fair image stamp'd for ever.

From the Edinburgh Magazine, for May, 1818.
THE CONFESSION.

BID the cold and callous hearted
Brood o'er bliss he ne'er imparted :
Let him linger, let him languish,
In his sordid, selfish anguish :
Not a sun his soul shall borrow,
To dispel his night of sorrow;
And a something shall annoy,
With a dread, his dreams of joy.

He knows not the blissful union
Souls partake by soft communion;

* Psyche's head was engraved on it.

thee;

But if thy heart would be at rest,
Oh let not Love come ever near thee!-
March, 1818.
W. H. F.

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