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POETP.T.
The following neat and pathetic effusion is taken
from the London New Monthly Magazine, (presumed
by the initials t<> be from the pen of the gifted Mrs.
IIema*s.) It exhibits a noble instance of female
heroism, which you will please insert in your valuable
paper. The Baron Van der Wart was accused,
though it is believed unjustly, of bei
' the Emperor Albert. He was
\
’ an accomplice
in the assassination of tlie Emperor
bound alive on the wheel—lits wife, Gertrude, attend
ed him throughout his last agonizing moments with
the most heroic fidelity. Iler own suflerings, and
those of her unfortunate husband, are most affecting-
ly described in a letter which she afterwards address
ed to a female friend, and which was published some
years ago at Haarlem, in a book entitled “ Gertrude
Van der Wart, or Fidelity unto Death.—JVaf. Int.
GERTRUDE.
Her hands were clasp’d, her dark eyes raised,
The breeze threw back her hair;
Up to the fearful wheel she gazed,
J All that she loved was there.
Jr The night was round her clear and cold,
The holy heaven above;
Its pale stars watching to behold
The night of earthly love.
” And bid me not depart,” she cried,
“ My Rudolph! say not so!
This is no time to quit thy side,
Peace, peace! I cannot go.
Hath the world ought for me to fear
When death is on thy brow ?
The world! what means if’—mine is Here—
I will not leave thee now'.
“I have been with thee in thine hour
Of glory and of bliss,
Doubt not its memory’s living power
To strengthen me through this!
And thou mine honour’d love and true,
Bear oil, bear nobly on !
We have the blessed Heaven in view',
Whose rest shall soon be won!”
And were not these high words to flow
From woman’s breaking heart?
Through all that night of bitterest woe
She !>ore her lofty part:
But oh! with such a freezing eye,
Wit!ysuch a curdling cheek—
Love, love! of mortal agony,
jrhout only tkau should’st speak.
The winds rose high—but with them rose
Her v oicc that he might hear ;
Perchance that dark hour brought repose
To happy bosoms near,
Whilst she sate striving with despair
Besides his tortured form,
And pouring her deep soul in prayer
Forth on the rushing storm.
She wiped the death damps from his brow,
With her pale hands ami soft,
Whose touch upon the lute chords low
Had still’cfthis heart so oft.
She spread Iyer mantle o’er his breast,
She/bathed his lips with dew,
Aryjgon his cheek such kisses press’d,
As joy and hope ne’er knew.
h! lovely are ye, love and faith,
Enduring to the last!
She had her meed—one smile in death—
And his worn spirit pass’d.
While, even as o’er a martyr’s grave,
She knelt on that sad spot,
And weeping, blessed the God who gave
Strength to forsake it not! F. H.
FROM THE UNITED STATES LITERARY GAZETTE.
THE POOR SCHOLAR.
1 saw him starting in his new career;
The hue of health was on his cheek—his eye
Flashed with the eye of genius, while no fear
Cast its dark cloud o’er his aspirings high.
And o’er his brow, in fluttering light and shade
A thousand bright and glorious fancies played.
And he did seem like one who lightly deemed
Of chance and peril that encircle fame—
One who, wherever the wave-jewel gleamed,
Would urge right on with ardour nought could
tame; t,
Ay, one who loved it better, that it lay
Where the vexed ocean flung it9 troubled spray.
Like a young eagle on the mountain height,
Flaming the vigorous wing to fly, he stood
Fearless, though lonely. Beautiful and bright,
Long sanctioned practice among matter
of fact novelists, demands a personal des
cription of those characters therewith the
writer chooseth to adorn his tale,
the Colonel, his demise is alrea.d;
—and no further interest in what
be supposed to engage the present g<
tion. The heroine herself, as ha‘h before
been remarked,being wholly indiscribable, is
abandoned to the dreams of fancy. But there
was a triumvirate of responsible spinsters,
with whom the world longeth to become ac
quainted—to wit, in chronological gradation
Miss Experience, Miss Waitstill, and Miss
Silence, daughters of the once lale Faith
ful Potts, Esquire, and Deliverance his
wife. The eldest was a prim; sharpnosed,
figetty antique, who took much pains and
some snuff; the next a comfortable round
faced/solid body, with a pleasant temper,
and good appetite ; the third a dried poppy,
wrinkled, soporifick,taciturn, and forbidding.
Such were the remnants of an ancient race
—the ultimate fragments of the Pottses.
Hard by their family residence, lived the
Rev. Jesharon Snarltext, atough, long-limb
ed, gaunt bachelor, of two score years and
upwards. This gentleman, by reason of
numerous accidental calls, and divers vo
luntary counsels in domestic matters, had
succeeded in fascinating nearly all the old
ladies in the parish. To this charming fa
culty he added great literary taste—serving
up his homilies to the highest gratification
of his auditory ; being graciously assisted
thereunto by certain devout and learned di
vines, whose accommodating follios and
quartos performed wonders simil; r to that
which the angel wrought upon the beast of
Balaam. Moreover, his reverence religious
ly remembered many rare scriptural injunc
tions, considering himself worse than any
infidel, should he neglect making provision
for his own bodily comfort; and deeming it
above all things prudent, to make to himself
friends of the mammon of unrighteousness.
Moved by considerations so weighty, he had
long gloated askant upon the person and
supposed chatties of Miss Silence Potts—
which she nothing loath^ierccived with all
due quietude and complacency. But, when
this project had nearly reached its contem
plated crisis, parson Snarltext, in conversa
tion one day with Deacon Adonijah Pitcher,
grand-uncle of the celebrated Mary Pitcher
ascertained, to his unspeakable horror,
that the whole Potts estate was entailed
upon Miss Admirable. The Deacon, an
honest, substantial, straight forward yeo
man, unconscious of the terrible blow al
ready inflicted by this disclosure, proceed
ed to descant largely upon the charms, both
inherent and acquired, of th ; e young heiress
—finishing his eulogium with a vehement
hope that she might never become the prey
of a fortune-hunter, nor marry for aught but
love. The astounded clergyman, seized
with a fit of rumination, stared through his
spectacles and went his way
Deacon Pitchers’s seventh son, Rejoice
Hardy, a robust swain of two-and-twenty,
had some months fostered a predilection to
wards young Miss Potts. The sentiment
was reciprocal ;—though no one, as yet,
but aunt Waitsti*!, possessed the momen
tous secret: and in what manner she be
came its repository, is not material to relate.
That she did obtain it is beyond a doubt
—yet, it hath become a matter of history,
that she kept it for a whole wee k. And
why ? Because Rejoice, in her opinion^ was
a very proper, fair-spoken youngster ; and
an earlier developement might have retard
ed that union which she hoped to see ac
complished. The parson’s exclusive atten
tions to Miss Silence h(jd ceased, and Miss
Experience was busily plotting a match be-
aunt Waity’s 1 mented eighteen on their possession of un-
. and I’ll fetch the parson in a rivalled worth and exalted genjfis although
Jiffy”—and away he sped, while Miss Wait-(to confess the truth, I knew as little about
still unravelled the whole matter. In a few! the ^matter as the man in the inoon. Fifty
minutes, the stout youngster re-appeared, times I have sworn that there is nothing in
dragging in his ^reverence, wrapped in a- the world equal to a light blue eye, and fifty
mazejnent and a Jjomespun sheet; the lat- times I have sworn that nought in nature can
ter happening to fe just withdrawn from the compare with a black eye ; I have praised
neighbouring hedge, and marked at one cor-] bright eyes for the sunny radiance of joy
ner, F. D. P. “ This young lady has need that flooded every thing on which they fell;
of protector against ghosts,” said Miss Wait- and I have praised dim eyes, for the moon-
still, addressing the clerical spectre. “ And light melancholy that shone in their humid
if thee don’t marry us right away,” added
Rejoice, “ i’U wallop thee for a counter-
fit wizard.” The saint was forced to com
ply, and rolled up his eyes as he ejaculated.
The——the devil]” He
glance. I have vowed sometimes, the cheek
from whose rich bloom the rose might de
rive a fresh charm, was a thing that I de
votedly worshipped ; and at other times, I
have sneered at the Vermillion cheek, and
turned ou his heel, and has not since been idolized the snowy paleness of sensibility
heard of. There followed festivities and whose tears had been so often shed for the
merrymakings without number at the vari- troubles of life, that they had actually wash-
ous dwellings of the Pitchers and the Pott-1 ed all the red colour from the face. I have
ses. But what signifies it? It is a melancho- praised high foreheads for their calmness,
ly fact, that alf the actors in these scenes, and low foreheads for their passion. I have
even the youngest and most hale, have been praised raven hair, auburn hair, chesnut
dead and buried more than fifty years. I hair, and red hair, and to my ineffable horror,
— ' I once discovered that I had been eulogizing
Count Vitcleschi.—There was living in the ambrozial curls of a lady who wore a
17S6, at Brescia, Count Viteleschi, a most I wig. I have lauded Grecian noses, Roman
singular man, and whose energy seemed to I noses, while noses, and red noses : dimpled
belong to the middle ages. A|1 that I have chins, double chins, and peaked chins ;
heard of him announced him to be a charac- straight eyebrows and arched eyebrows,
ter similar to that of Castruccio Castracani. j The consequence of all thi9 has been, that
As he was only a private individual, his cha- I have lost ray character for consistency,
acter showed itself in dissipating his fortune not only in the estimation of others, but
in the most extraordinary way, committing I also in my own. I have had the reputation
a thousand follies to please the woman that I of being in love a hundred and ninety-five
he loved, and killing his rivals.—As he was times, though I conscientiously affirm that I
one day walking with his mistress, a man I have not, in reality, been in love with more
happened to look at her: “ Cast down your than sixty-seven different persons and never
eyes,” cried Viteleschi; the man continuing j with more than half a dozen at once. All
to look at her, Viteleschi shot him on the my flights of fancy have been construed
spot. Adventures of this kind were looked into serious declarations of passion. I have
upon but as peccadilloes in a rich patrician— narrowly escaped ten suits for breach of
but Viteleschi having killed a ‘distant rela- promise, in which the only witnesses against
tion of the noble Venetian family of Braga- me would have been Albums, and an un
din, was arrested and thrown into the famous poetical jury would have infallibly convicted
prison at Venice, near the ponte dei sospiri. me.—I have been called a perjured swain,
Viteleschi, who was a very handsome man, a breaker of vows, a hypocritical pretender,
and not devoid of eloquence, set about se- an unfeeling wretch, and (horresco referens!)
during the jailor’s 1 wife* The jailor, sus-|a male flirt!
peering the intrigue’,-loaded him with irons.
Viteleschi, thodgV >9 solitary confinement
Sir Jonah Barrington's Personal Sketches
in chains, and without money, soon succeed- j of his own times.—“ In the year 1S0Q, a la-
ed in interesting his persecutor, though a I borer, dwelling near the town of Airy, coun
jailor and jealous! This man used to pass ty Kildare; (where some of my famdy still
two hours every day with his prisoner. On | reside) was walking with his comrade up the
one occasion, Viteleschi said to him
“ What torments me most is that whilst I
banks of the Barrow to the farm of a Mr.
Richardson, on whose meadow they were
for disposing of children who are so unfor
tunate as to find their way into this cold
hearted world without father or mother. An
amusing case occurred a few weeks since,
which we will state, without, however, giv
ing names. A child was fpund nicely dono
up in abasket, upon the steps of a gentle
man’s door, in the good city of brotherly
love, and, being a stranger, was of course
taken in, and the basket put away. As there
were several children however, already, anil
of right on the premises, the little foundling’s;
presence was rather unwelcome. But for
several days no clue could be discovered by
which the child could be traced to those
who had a more legitimate claim to it. At
length it was recollected that there were
some papers in the bottom of the “ fruit
basket,” placed to preserve the clothes from
being soiled. On examining these, the name
of a distinguished lawyer in the neighbour
ing state of New Jersey, was found upon
one of the manuscripts, and was of course
regarded as a precious discovery. A mes
senger, with the basket, the child, and the
manuscript, was forthwith despatched to the
residence of the barrister who was no less
surprised than chagrined at the sudden-
claim of the little stranger to his tender sym
pathies and endearing attentions of a fa
ther. He strongly protested his innocence,
and was in fact innocent. But this is a
wicked world, and upon the substantial testi
mony of the manuscript, the more earnestly
he asseverated that the child was no kin of
his, the more strongly it was believed that
was. At length, after much rumination
and cogitation, the counsellor bethought
himself that the fatal manuscript was some
considerable time hack sent to the printer’s,
as a legal advertisement. The reminiscence
was a fortunate one for him. But alas, for
our brother chip ! One bit of evidence ra
pidly led to another—an invalid lady who
had the highest regard for the editor’s ta
lents, had suddenly become much better—
the ownership of the basket was fixed—a
carriage had been hired for an evening’s ride
to Philadelphia—and finally the driver was
found who performed the journey, and knetf
all about it.-^The result was that the child
was removed from the portals of the bar. to
the purlieus of a printing office. VYe com
miserate tlie change in the fortunes of the
little sufferer, since the pin-money of the
counsellor’s establishment would probably
have been worth more than the heirship of
the estate editorial.—JV*. Y. Com. Adv.
am here rotting in chains, my enemy is employed to mow, each in the usual Irish
strutting about Brescia. Oh, if I could but way, having his scythe loosely wagging over
kill him and then die.” These fine senti- his shoulders—and lazily lounging close to
ments touched the jailor, who said to him : I the bank of the river they espied a salmon
“ I will give you your liberty for four days.” I partly hid under the bank. It is the nature
The Count fell upon his neck, and on the of this fish, that whenever his head is con-
following Friday evening quitted the prison, cealed, he fancies no one can see his tail
A gondola passed him to Mestre, where a (there are many wise-acres besides the sal-
sediola with relays awaited him. He arrived mon, of the same way of thinking.) On the
at Brescia at three o’clock in the afternoon present occasion the body of the fish was
of Sunday, and took his po9t near the church visible.
‘Oh-
*SS3fssa I M* ,h . e « lu ' FT
though,
Bose loud, it spoke of energy and life.
Again I saw him—then liis cheek was pale,
And bent his form, and dimmed his lightning eye;
His strength had gone, as the tree fades when fail
The freshning streams, and blighting winds go by j
Gone to generous pride, the fixed intent,
With which to the world’s cirque like gallant steed
he bent.
But, though he struggled on against the tide,
The goal of promise still did fleet away,
And still did mock him—till his last hope died
None cried “ God bless him,” on his weary way,
Looked kind, or stretched a timely hand to save;
What marvel then,—the green turf decks his grave!
Yea, death fell on.him, for his ills were sore;
‘Nor was it to his heart ungrateful boon;
—As a light billow on the level shore,
Or lamp expiring in the ardent noon,
He died unheeded save by one, and she
Had been the mother of his infancy.
rentherically speaking, she might have plot
ted till this very day—for Admirable was
inexorable.
One Sunday evening, the Rev. M r. Snarl
text was gossipping as usual with the ladies
at the mansion hou$e. As the evening
waned, Miss Waitstill withdrew to an ad
joining apartment, whither Rhe had privily
invited the Deacon’s son. Through an op
posite door, Silence retired from pique, and
Experience followed from design.—Slowly
they traipsed onward in solemn stateliness
to their respective couches—and straightly
all was still. The talt clock at the stair
case had told eleven, and the moon reflect
ed a mysterious sort of brilliancy. Now for
a love scene. Mr. Snarltext commenced
a discourse on the subject of ghosts—aver-
From the Nantucket Enquirer. I ring that for two nights in succession, pre-
A LOVE STORY. cisely at midnight, he had distinctly observ-
When old Col. Potts departed this mortal ed a huge apparition marching round and
life, in the year sixteen hundred and seventy round a little hillock, then visible. He then
odd, at a village not far from Salem, an uni
versal gloom was spread oveT the whole face
amplified on the inconvenience and dangers
of solitude—on the advantage of conjugal
of the country, for at least three miles round, life,the dutyof youngladies lo provide them-
The great mansion house, with all its aper- se ? ve9 w ‘th protectors and all that sort of
tenances, became the inheritance, on cer- disinterested argumentation: talking with-
tain conditions, of three bereaved maiden J interruption, for the space of lorty-five
sisters, full grown, and somewhat lapsing minutes, when ho departed in high spirits,
beyond a certain age. A faithful guardian- A11 the harangue was overheard by Miss
S ip of their niece, the Colonel’s only child, Yfaitstill Potts and Mr. Rejoice Hardy
iss Admirable Potts, was the tenure upon I Fitcher, seated, as before intimated, in an
which the elder ladies were to {* have and adjacent room. Presently it was midnight;
to hold the afore-granted premises during |as the clock announced the hour, Miss Ad-
their natural lives.” Now, Miss Admirable
was of that age wherein it is customary to
Durable still alone, unwittingly looked out
upon the haunted knoll. Nothing could be
think tenderly of being thought of: and that r 9 0re romantic ; here, a. forest throwing its
the indulgence of this pensive mood by the 1 shadows across fields and copses and
damsel in question, may be deemed n o i,itt,e str . eiiras stealing forth into the broad
transgression of' the canons of modesty, j moonshine- there, a gorgeous lake throw-
the reader hereof is adjured to ransack the ! mg np millions of sparkles among the ze-
tnost romantic corner of his memory, for 1 phy 73 ihat wantoned upon its bosom—anti
such notions of feminine grace as shall con- yonder, a tall figure in white stalking over
tribute to the formation of a very pretty pic
ture of Miss Admirable Potts. Under such
circumstances, it behoved the three aunts
to be especially scrupulous in regard to the
behaviour of their ward, a duty which they
resohed to exercise with the
fance and rigor.
utmost vigt-
the base of a dilapidated dung heap !
“ Ah ?” sighed the damsel, audibly—■“ I
Wish tomercy 1 was married to Rejoice Pitch
er ! But all the goblins in the v/hole parish
an’t agoing to make me have that ’ere old
hypocritical gander.” “Say thee so, my
gairl ?” exclaims Rejoice, bursting into the
Ned dear !* said one of the mow-
isn’t it n
door. As his enemy came out from Ves
pers he stretched him dead with a shot from 1 ers, look at that big fellow there ;
carbine. Not- one of the by-standers I pity we ha’nt no speer.’
thought of arresting Count Veteleschi, who I * May be,’ said Ned, * we could be after
calmly returned to his sediola, and was back piking the lad with the scythe handle,
in prison on Tuesday evening. The Seig-1 * True for you!’ said Dennis; * the spike
neure of Venice were soon informed of this of your handle is longer than mine, give the
new murder, and Count Viteleschi was fellow a dig with it at any rate.*
brought before them, scarcely able to hold ‘ Ay will I,’ returned the other; * I’ll give
himself up, so enfeobled was he by confine- j the lad a prod he’ll never forget any how.’
ment. On the accusation being read: “ How
many witnessesv have signed this new ca
The spike and their sport was all they
thought of, but the blade of the scythe which
‘ Now hit the lad
* there now—there !
smart,’ said Dennis
rise your fist; now
lumny?” asked Viteleschi, with a sepulchral hung over Ned’s shoulders, never came in
voice. “ More than 200,” was the answer, to the contemplation of either of them. Ned
“Your Excellencies know, however, that cautiously looked over the bank; the un
on Sunday last, the day of the murder, I conscious salmon lay snug, little imagining
was in the cursed prison; you may now see the conspiracy that had been formed against
how numerous are my enemies.” This rea-1 him.
soning shook some of the old Judges, the
young ones favoured Viteleschi on account
of the singularity of his character, and in alyou have the boy, now Ned—success
short-time, owing to this fresh murder, he ‘Ned struck at the salmon with all his
was set at liberty. A year after, the jailor might and main, and that was not trifling
received, through the hands of a priest, one But whether * tlie boy ’ was pinked or not
hundred and eighty thousand livres, (about never appeared; for poor Ned, bending his
60,000 francs,) the price of the sole remain- neck as he struck at the salmon, placed the
ing unmortgaged property that Viteleschi I vertebrae in the most convenient position
possessed. This determined, impassioned, for unfurnishing his shoulders, and his head
and extraordinary individual, whose life came tumbling splash into the Barrow, to
would make a most interesting volume, lived! the utter astonishment of his comrade, who
to a good old age, the terror of all his neigh- could not conceive how it could drop off so
hours. A curious story is told of his having suddenly. But the next minute he had the
lived concealed for fifteen days in a chimney, consolation of seeing the head attended by
for the purpose of watching his mistress, one of his own ears, which had been most
whom to his great joy he found faithful, dexterously sliced off by the same blow
She was in the habit of receiving the visits which beheaded his comrade. The head
of a rich young man who had enamoured j and ear rolled down the river in company,
her, but whom she was desirous of securing and were picked up with extreme horror at
as a husband for her daughter. Viteleschi, the milldam, near Mr. Richardson’s, by one
convinced of her innocence, dropped sud
denly from the chimney, and said to the as
tonished young man: “You have had a
most fortunate escape ; see what it is to
of the miller’s men.
* Whoever owned it,’ said the man, * had
three ears at any rate.’
A search being now made, Ned’s head-
have to do with a man of probity! Another less body was discovered lying half over
in my place would have killed you without the bank, and Dennis in a swoon, through
verifying the fact.” He once, at the ap- fright and loss of blood, was found recum
proach of Easter, made one of his retainers bent by its side. Dennis, when brought to
affect to be in articvla mortis, and send for himself, (which process was effected by
the confessor of this same mistress; the] whiskey) recited the whole adventure,
holy man having partaken of some refresh-1 They tied up the head ; the body was attend-
ments in which opium had been mixed, fell ed by a numerous assembly of Ned’s coun
asleep; when Viteleschi borrowed his trymen to the grave, and the habit of carrv-
clothes, in which he disguised himself and ing scythes carelessly very much declined.—
repaired to the church, whither he knew his
mistress was to go that day to make her
confession.
Infant Trouve.—Yesterday afternoon
SiendahPs Rome, Naples, <£c. I well dressed female requested a woman who
was sitting in High-street market, to hold
her infant while she performed an errand at
the distance of a few squares.
Confessions of an Album writer—I have
written, from firsj^to last, in two hundred
and forty-six Albums. In a hundred and
ninety-five of them I have made love out
right to the charming proprietors, though
two thirds of them excited no feelings in
my naturally cold and passionless breast.—
I have invoked blessings ou tho heads of
thirty three, in the most fervent and affec
tionate style, some of whom I hav^ not
known an hour previous to the time of my
making the invocation ; and I have compli-
I
M|P
The woman
accordingly took the child, apparently about
six months old, and with it a small bundle,
containing the child’s clothes. The^sup-
osed mother, however, did not return to re-
eem her pledge ; and after waiting a long
time, the person who received the child,was
compelled to return to her own house, with
the gratuitous addition to her family.—-27.
S. Gazette. if
Philadelphia seems to bo a popular place
Ice Fruit Anecdote.—At this warm season,
when ice creams are sought after as an
alleviation to heat and drought, which beset
us with exceeding power, the following
anecdote may not be unacceptable to those
who have not before met with it, and even
to such as have, it will not increase their
perspiration by a second perusal.—An
honest sea-officer, attended an enter tainment
given by an English gentleman in the city
of Agrigentum, Jn Italy. The desert con
sisted of a great variety of fruits, and a still
greater variety of ices. These were so dis
guised in the shapes of peaches, figs,
oranges, nuts, &c. that a person unacquaint
ed w ith ices might very easily have been
taken in.—One of the servants carried the
figure of a large peach to the captain, who,
unacquainted with deceit] of any kind, never
doubted that it was a rea) one, and cutting it
through in the middle, in a (moment he had
one large half of it in his mouth : at first he
only looked grave, and blew up his cheeks
to give it more room ; but the violence of
the cold soon getting the better of his pa
tience, lie began to turn it about from side
to side in his mouth, bis eyes rushing out
water, till at last, able to hold no longer, he
spit it out upon his plate exclaiming with au
oath, “ A painted snow-hall!” and wiping
away his tears, he turned in a rage to the
Italian servant that had helped him, with 4
you “ maccaroni rascal what do you mean
by that?” The fellow who understood not
word of it, could not forbear smiling,
which still convinced the captain the more
that it was a trick : “ What, do you laugh,
you villain ?” and he was just a going to
throw the rest of the snow ball in his fare,
w hen ho was checked by one of the com
pany, and cooling down a little, added,
very well, I only wish I had the rascal on
board ship—he should have a cool dozeh
bbfore he could say Jack Robinson for all
his painted kickshaws.”
“ I have lived,” said the indefatigable E.
D. Clarke, “ to know that the greatest se
cret of human happiness is this—never suf
fer your energies to stagnate. The old
adage of “ too many irons in the fire,” con
veys an abominable lie.—-You cannot have
too many; poker, tongs and all—keep them
all going.”
The “ Methodist Discipline ” makes it
the duty of those who have the charge of
circuits, to recommend every where decen
cy and cleanliness. It gives directions to
taste no spirituous liquors, no dram of any
kind, unless prescribed by a physician; to
wear no needless ornament, such as rings,
earrings, necklaces, lace, or ruffies.
Among a variety of Specifications late
ly brought against an individual in Lon
don, while under examination on a charge
of Lunacy, was one that he would take up a
newspaper and after looking at it for a mo
ment, throw it abruptly down again, declar-
ing that it was all nonsense 2 Who could
dohbt that he was mad—mad as a March
hare, after so unequivocal a demonstration
as this.—Aug/ Chronicle.
A young woman lately died suddenly in
Paris, who left behind her a paper stating
that, having been unfaithful to her lover, she
.hoar to live no longer.
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