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I wander as a vagabonde through the peating fifty-two Are Marias a-day; a world, forsaken of my friends, poore penance of twenty-five lashes on Fri. and known only to be a broken limbe day, after midnight, with a Misere mei of a shipwrecked faction, yet I finde Deus ; a fast of bread and water on humanity and civility from those who Wednesday, with three Magnificats are in the height of fortune and repu- repeated before sun-rising; a petation. But I do alsoe well knowe I nance of five rosaries repeated by am in a strange land, how far those twelve at noon, with the seven peni: civilities do extend, and that they are tential Psalms, and the Litanies of all too aery to feed or clothe a man. I the Saints, had all their set prices. cannot so unite my thoughts into one Some of these penances were of a object, as absolutely to forbid the me- still more formidable nature, and then mory of such things as these are to enter the reward was proportionable: the into them, but I go as far as I can; and following are some of them:The pesince I cannot forget what has passed, nitent to hear three successive masses, nor be absolutely insensible of what is in the church of the Jesuits, bare present, I defend myself reasonably knee'd on the marble; to stand upright, well from increasing or anticipating with the arms extended, before an evils by foresight. The power of fore- image of the Virgin, from one to two seeing is a happy quality unto those o'clock in the morning; to pull out a who prosper, and can ever propose to hundred and fifty hairs from the head, themselves something of greater felicity at the door of the Carmelite's church, than they enjoy ; but a most desperate between two and three o'clock in the mischief to them, who, by foreseeing, morning, and there repeat one hundred can discover nothing that is not worse and fifty Ave Marias ; to give himself than the evils which they do already twenty-five lashes, while he repeated feele. He that is naked, alone, and the Domine ne in furore, and five times without help, in the open sea, is lesse the Laudate Dominum, bare-knee'd, on unhappy in the night when he may a board strewed with sand; to lie hope the land is near, than in the day three nights, naked, and without a when he sees it not, and that there is shirt, in cowage, &c. &c. Such are a no possibility of safety.”
specimen of the performances of one
man to expiate the sins of other men, PENANCE BY PROXY. and to propitiate a God of Majesty and In Spain and Portugal, many do Justice.- Picart's Religious Ceremo. penance by proxy; and formerly these nies, vol. i. proxies were prevalent in Provence, Italy, and the Netherlands. Little more than a century ago, one James
ANECDOTE OF AN ALGONQUIN Zeger exercised this charitable trade
WOMAN. in some of the towns of Brabant. This That nation being at war with the man whipped himself, in the presence Iroquois, she happened to be made of the sinner, until the blood came, prisoner, and was carried to one of the provided he gave him something to buy villages belonging to them. Here she cordial liquors, previous to the opera was stripped naked, and her hands tion, besides what he gave for the pe- and feet bound with ropes in one of nance. He had also two daughters, their cabins. In this condition she who undertook to perform penances remained ten days, the savages sleeping for the ladies, or wives and maids of round her every night. The eleventh common rank, who had money to pay night, while they were asleep, she for them. Zeger had regular prices found means to disengage one of her for their fasts in proportion to their hands, with which she immediately difficulty. For a fast without animal freed herself from the ropes, and went food, he charged only ten-pence; thirty, to the door. Though she had now an for one of bread and water; but for pe- opportunity of escaping unperceived, nances, wherein he was to whip him- her revengeful temper could not let self, and endure other mortifications of slip the favourable opportunity of that nature, there was no set price; a killing one of her enemies. The atspecific agreement was then necessary. tempt was manifestly at the hazard of He used to lay his register before the her own life, yet, snatching up a penitent, and show him the agreement hatchet, she killed the savage that lay he was in the practice of making. A next to her, and springing out of the penance of four usual fasts; the re- cabin, concealed herself in a hollow.
tree, which she had observed the day livered my person to the English ; I before. The groans of the dying per- believed in their honour. son soon alarmed the other savages, SURRENDER OF PARIS.--The allies and the young ones immediately set have paid dearly for their success in out in pursuit of her. Perceiving from 1814. I kept up the war for three her tree, that they all directed their months in the plains Champagne with course one way, and that no savage the remains of my old troops. If Paris was near her, she left her sanctuary, had held out twenty-four hours longer and flying by an opposite direction, they would have been lost; not a single ran into a forest without being per- German would have returned over the ceived. The second day after this Rhine. happened, her footsteps were dis- BRAVERY.--Bravery is a convencovered, and they pursued her with tional coin; some will boldly meet such expedition, that the third day she death in the ranks of the enemies, who discovered her enemies at her heels. would tremble before the executioner's Upon this she threw herself into a axe. There are counterfeit brave men, pond of water, and diving among some as well as counterfeit coins ; in a word, weeds and bull-rushes, she could just bravery is an innate quality ; we canbreathe above water without being not give it to ourselves. perceived. Her pursuers, after mak The Laws of FRANCE.— I have given ing the most diligent search, were the French people a code of laws, forced to return. For thirty-five days which will last longer than the monuthis woman held on her course through ments of my power. woods and desarts, without any other GOVERNMENT.—It is easier to form a sustenance than roots and wild berries. republic without anarchy, than a moWhen she came to the River St. Law. narchy without despotism. rence, she made with her own hands a A Just Man. The just man is the kind of a wicker raft, on which she image of God upon earth. crossed it. As she went by a French THE PRINCE REGENT OF ENGLAND,-Fort, Trois Rivieres, without well When I wrote to the Prince Regent to knowing where she was, she perceived ask for his hospitality, he suffered a a canoe full of savages, and fearing fair opportunity of acquiring fame to they might be Iroquois, ran again into escape. the woods, where she remained till NAPOLEON's WORKS.--I have built sunset. Continuing her course soon villages, drained marshes, built seaafter, she saw Trois Rivieres, and was ports, re-built cities, established manuthen discovered by a party whom she factories, united both seas, constructed knew to be Hurons, a nation in allic roads, and erected monuments : and ance with the Algonquins. She then yet I have been compared to Attila, squatted down behind a bush, calling the chief of the Hentswell judges. out to them that she was not in a con- STRENGTH OF A GOVERNMENT.-The dition to be seen, because she was legitimate strength of a government naked. They immediately threw her consists in the unanimity of interests ; a blanket, and then conducted her to it cannot put itself at variance with the fort, where she recounted her them without giving itself a deathstory.
GREATNESS OF MIND.-The man of a superior order is naturally invincible :
he cares very little whether he be NAPOLEON'S TABLE TALK.
praised or blamed, he listens to his
conscience. [Continued from page 286.]
THE INVASION OF FRANCE.-When I
landed at Cannes, there was neither a FRENCH TAXES.-It was a part of conspiracy nor plot. I came with the my financial system to diminish the Parisian journals in my hands. This direct taxes which weigh upon the expedition, which will be represented land, and to replace them by indirect in history as a daring one, was percharges, which fall only upon luxury fectly rational. My grumblers were and intemperance.
badly dressed, but they had stout HIS CONFIDENCE IN THE ENGLISH,- hearts. I have committed many faults in my life; the greatest was of having de.
[To be continued.]
THE MUSES'WILD WREATE. Eyes lit by A dmiration's spell
Infuse emotions dearer,
And bosoms sigh in Love to dwell.
Affection draws them nearer.
ain at last, Eternal emblems,-verdant boughs! My boat is ling'ring on the shore ;
Are hailed in prickly berries, The bitterness of death is past,
Under their shade lips press their Nor love, nor scorn, shall wring me
In sprightly hey-down-derries; I lov'd, how deeply lov'd-oh, Heaven!
The crimson and the chrystal chains To thee, to thee the pang is known:
Give smiles to urchins' faces, Proud woman, be thy crime forgiven; Females are rosied for their pains, Mine be the shame, the grief alone.
And hide in kissing places. The madd’ning hour when first we met,
The larder rich with meat and pies, The glance, the smile, the vow, you
For guests is made refreshing,
The generous purse its weight supplies gaveThe last wild moment, haunt me yet;
The will and power possessing: I feel they'll haunt me to the grave.
The heart is opened widely free Down, wayward heart, no longer
To all the crowds invited, heave;
And many a glance and airy glee Thou, idle tear, no longer flow;
Are relished and recited. And may that Heaven she dares de. The rich and wealthy, nobly born, ceive,
Should send their vessels flowing ;
And sets the spirits glowing;
And e'en the piteous stranger's call, This hour we part;-the grave shall Though weary, wan, and tearful. tell
If games are played let forfeits reign, The thought that to my spirit clings. Nor passion lead to sorrow; Thou, pain, above all other pain ! Gambling breeds vices, which will Thon, joy, all other joys above !
stain Again, again, I feel thy chain,
Reflection's dawning morrow :
Forgiveness banish terror,
And he who lifts the toasting glass,
Hearts better live and brighter;
Life in its glories will decay, To future realms for ever!
And MEMORIES' thoughts be lighter; A twelve months' space is ending fast. The old will go-the young succeed, The embryo YEAR aspiring!
The seasons fade in changing, Memory reflects upon the past,
But words of duty pledged indeed, Returning joys desiring.
Will keep our Love from ranging.
Happy in YEARS! with blessings This is a festal season, dear
crowned, To thousands in the city!
With prospects sweet and glorious; To thousands in a rural sphere, Affection's sunshine beaming round
The young, humane and pretty : Will make our lives victorious : Their shutters fixed, the wind and Hope, FAITH, and LOVE, our present cold,
trust; Surround the joyous dwelling;
The past will yield its treasures, Children arrived, inspire the old, And all our future days, if just, Their various hist'ries telling.
Renew increasing pleasures. Relations meet in friendship's tone; Islington, Dec. 1823. J. R. P.
Hearts throb with kindred feeling; Langhter in roses glads the lone,
ERRATA.-In our last No, page 275, col. 2.
for Hare read Hora, and for Deramoran read Their heaviest sorrows healing : Decameron.
THE GROTTO OF ANTIPAROS,
IN GREECE, Till the discovery of the great cavern solid cement of those strata, and conof Kentucky, this immense and beauti- verts loosc matter into the hardest fully formed grotto was for ages re- solids. The figured forms on the garded as the greatest natural curiosity ground, are composed of beautiful of its kind. It consists of a series of crystals, and icicles of white marble. chambers, whose roofs are covered The cavern is usually visited by with beautiful and transparent stalac- strangers with torches, the reflection tites, or oozings from the superior of the light of which, from the stalacground of the very substance, which, tites, produces the most enchanting when strata are beneath, forms the effects.
ST. RONAN'S WELL. afterwards converted into an inn, and By the Author of Waverly, &c. 3 vols. tenanted by two old servants of the 12mo.
Mowbrays, who, after carrying on a We cannot, we think, present our successful trade some years, died reanumerous readers with a more agree- sonably wealthy, leaving behind them able Christmas present, than the fol- an only daughter, the last landlady of lowing Review of the above Novel, the Cleikum of St. Ronan, who, to say. just published from the prolific pen of nothing of her singularities of temper Sir Walter Scott.
and habit, which are detailed with the The scene of this highly interesting characteristic humour of the author, and tragical tale is laid, throughout, appears from the following portrait immediately in the vicinity of a small to have been by no means remarkable village in Scotland, designated by the for personal beauty : author under the fictitious appellation " She had hair of a brindled colour, of St. Ronan's Well; and situated, betwixt black and grey, which was according to his account, on the south apt to escape in elf locks from under ern side of the Forth, not above thirty her mutch, when she was thrown into miles from the English Border. The violent agitation-long skinny hands, neighbourhood is described as suffi. terminated stout talons-grey eyes, ciently romantic to provoke the pencil thin lips, a robust person, a broad, of every passing tourist. The town, though flat chest, capital wind, and a which at the period referred to in the voice that could match a choir of fish, history,was speedily sinking into decay, women. She was accustomed to say was built on the side of a precipitous of herself, in her more gentle moods, hill. Two houses only in its irregular that her bark was worse than her bite; street were in any thing like decent but what teeth could have matched a repair. These were the clergyman's tongue, which, when in full career, is Manse, and the hostel or inn of one vouched to have been heard from the Mistress Meg Dods, an important cha. Kirk to the Castle of St. Ronan's ? racter in the dramatis persona of the “ These notable gifts, however, bad tale, to the description of whose per- no charms for the travellers of these son and eccentricities the greater part light and giddy-paced times, and Meg's of the first chapter is devoted. The inn became less and less frequented, house, of which this worthy but eccen- What carried the evil to the uttermost tric old lady was the hostess, had for was, that a fanciful lady of rank in the merly been the residence of the reduced, neighbourhood chanced to recover of but once powerful, family of the Mowsome imaginary complaint by the use brays of St. Ronan, who, as the friends of a mineral well, about a mile and a and allies of Douglas, had on the turn- half from the village; a fashionable ing of the tide in the reign of James II, doctor was found to write an analysis become despoiled of most of their of the healing-stream, with a list of honours and possessions. In the sundry cures; a speculative builder middle of the seventeenth century they took land in feu, and erected lodging once more rose into importance, and houses, shops, and even streets. At Sir Reginald Mowbray distinguished length a tontine subscription was ob. himself greatly by his obstinate de- 'tained to erect an inn, which, for the fence of his own castle of St. Ronan more grace, was called a hotel ; and against the arms of Cromwell. It was so the desertion of Meg Dods became on this occasion that he caused the general." fortress to be dismantled and blown up. On a summer day, in a year, the with gunpowder. He after this aban- date of which is not mentioned, a doned it to ruin, and built himself a gentlemanlike looking person, who, habitation in the fashion of the age, from his saddle bags, our good hostess which he prudently suited in size tó took in the first instance for a coms the diminished fortunes of his family, mercial traveller, arrived at the inn, and in which they continued to reside and bespoke her best bed and fare, until within about fifty years of the during a sojourn, the professed object date of the present history, when it of which was sketching and sporting. was much damaged by a casual fire, As this turns out to be no other than and the laird of the day shifted his the hero of the story, it would be uns quarters to a more commodious dwel. pardonable in us not to give the ling, about three miles from the village. author's description of him in his own The deserted mansion was shortly words: