head of 600,000 men, occupied a position near Tarsus, on the banks of the Issus, in the straits of Cilicia; defeated him, entered Syria, took Damascus, where the great king's treasures were deposited, and laid siege to Tyre. That proud metropolis of the commerce of the world stopped him for nine months. He took Gaza after a two months siege, crossed the desert in seven days, entered Pelusium and Memphis, and founded Alexandria. In less than two years, after two battles and four or five sieges, the coasts of the Black Sea, from the Phasis to Byzantium, and those of the Mediterranean as far as Alexandria, all Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt, were subdued by his arms. In 331 he repassed the desert, encamped at Tyre, crossed the Coelesyria, entered Damascus, passed the Euphrates and Tigris, and defeated Darius in the plains of Arbella, as that prince was advancing against him at the head of a still more numerous army than that of the Issus. Babylon opened its gates to him. In 330, he forced the pass of Suza, took that town, Persepolis, and Pasagarda, where was the tomb of Cyrus. In 329 he turned towards the North, and entered Ecbatana, extended his conquests to the Caspian Sea, punished Bessus, the vile assassin of Darius, penetrated into Scythia, and defeated the Scythians. It was in this campaign that he disgraced so many trophies by the murder of Parmenio. In 328 he forced the passage of the Oxus, and subjected the neighbouring nations. It was in this year that he killed Clitus with his own hand, and required the Macedonians to worship him, which they refused to do. In 327 he passed the Indus, defeated Porus in a pitched battle, took him prisoner, and treated him as a king. He intended to pass the Ganges, but his army refused. He sailed on the Indus in 326, with 800 ships. On reaching the ocean, he sent Nearchus with a fleet to coast the Indian Sea as far as the Euphrates. In 325 he spent sixty days in crossing the desert of Gedrosia, entered Kermann, returned to Pasagarda, Persepolis, and Suza, and married Statira, the daughter of Darius. In 324 he again marched towards the North, passed to Ecbatana, and ended his career at Babylon, where he was poisoned. [To be continued.] ORIGIN OF THE OPERA IN ENGLAND. The musical representations, in the reign of Charles the Second, at the celebrated Duchess of Mazarin's house at Chelsea, were chiefly dramatic, and were famous for their magnificence. The singers were the actresses from the theatre, and the instrumental performers the most emiment masters of the time. It is supposed that the design of introducing the Italian opera into England was first concerted in this assembly: but the death of the Duchess retarded the execution for a few years. In 1707, the opera of Arsinoe, consisting of English words adapted to Italian airs by Mr. Thomas Clayton, was performed at Drury-lane Theatre. A succession of entertainments of this kind terminated in the establishment of an opera properly so called, in which the drama was written in the Italian language, and the music in the Italian style of composition. EXTRAORDINARY ADVEN- Wilhelmina, princess of Wolfenbuttle, it is well known, was married very young to the brutal son of Peter the Great; but the remaining part of her story has hitherto been buried in oblivion. This princess had often endeavoured in vain, by her mild and graceful manners, as well as amiable virtues, to soften the ferocity of her husband, who, at three different times, attempted to poison her, but she escaped by the use of proper remedies. One day, this barbarian meeting her in one of his inhuman fits, when she was in the eighth month of her pregnancy, gave her repeated kicks, left her for dead, and having feasted his eyes with the horrid spectacle, retired perfectly satisfied to one of his country seats. The Countess of Koningsmark, and some other friends to the unhappy lady, directly formed a plan for her deliverance. With this view they declared she was actually dead, and received orders from her brutal husband to bury her without ceremony or noise; the countess and her friends put a log of wood into the coffin, (for which all Europe went into mourning,) and secretly conveyed the injured princess out of the country. She soon after arrived at Paris, and went from thence privately with a colony of Germans, to Louisiana; and, after a variety of adventures and sufferings in that distant part of the globe, married a French nobleman at New Orleans, with whom she returned to Paris, and a short time after accompanied him to the Isle of Bourbon. After the death of this nobleman, our fair adventurer embarked for Europe, and lived a retired life at Brussels, supported by a pension from the house of Brunswick. EPITAPH TO THE PIE-HOUSE MEMORY OF NELL Here deep in the dust, Of Nell Bachelor, lately was shoven ; When she'd lived long enough, She made her last puff, A puff by her husband much praised: Now here she doth lie, And makes a dirt pie, TRANSLATION OF A PAPER FOUND AMONG THE BAGGAGE OF A FRENCH OFFICER KILLED AT WATERLOO, Whether the lines I now scrawl may ever fall into other hands besides my own, I know not. If not, the knowledge of my crimes and misery will go with me to the grave; yet I should wish it otherwise, because a relation so fatal as mine might be of use to others, who, like myself, are the slaves of passion. A true and faithful relation it shall be in every particular, because I have sworn to myself to conceal nothing. Names only are altered, not from any fear of the world's reproach falling upon myself, to whom it could do no greater injury than has already befallen me; but because I am unwilling that others who were innocent should come in for a share of that reproach. I was born in a village within a few miles of Bourdeaux, of respectable, though not rich, parents. My father had been in trade, and was unfortunate; and having saved as much from the wreck of his fortune as would support his family in retirement, he wisely resolved not to risk his all upon the precarious prospect of making it better. He accordingly settled in a small In hopes that her crust will be raised. country house, with my mother, myself, DESCRIPTION OF LONDON. Houses, churches, mix'd together, and four daughters, and there devoted his life to the care and education of his children. Having learned by experience, that the commerce of France was not in so flourishing a state as to secure wealth to every speculator, and as his circumstances were not such as could authorize his sending me into the army, he intended to bring me up to the profession of medicine, hoping that I might soon acquire a competency, and so be enabled to provide a home for my mother and sisters, in case he should die before them. With this view I was instructed in the learned languages, and at the age of seventeen was sent to Paris for the purpose of studying my profession. I reached the metropolis full of all those delightful sensations which every youth experiences upon first entering into life. Yet I was studious and regular in my habits; for though I was naturally as much inclined to gaiety and dissipation as any of my companions, I knew that my father was poor, and could with difficulty support me at the university at all. This knowledge, and the extreme love I bore to the most indulgent of parents, kept a continual restraint over my inclinations; and I beheld my class-fellows go to balls, masquerades and plays, without joining them, not indeed with indifference but with resignation. In this state of innocence four months glided past, during which, though I was not without many moments in which chagrin and discontent were the prevailing feelings in my breast, I never felt, for any length of time, what it was to be seriously unhappy. At the termination of that period, however, a change took place in my circumstances, which, to any other man, would have been the source of real and permanent happiness, but which to me was the occasion of acute and never-ending misery. I was returning one night from a late lecture, through one of those dark by-streets with which our capital abounds, when the cry of murder alarmed me. I ran towards the spot from whence the noise seemed to proceed, and observed a single man struggling with three others, who had got him down and were trampling upon his body. Being armed with a heavy cudgel Í immediately flew to his assistance, and with a blow stretched one of his assailants on the earth. The other two, terrified by the fall of their comrade, and believing, I suppose, that more aid was at hand, took to their heels, and whilst I was employed in lifting the wounded stranger, the third likewise made his escape. The person whom I rescued was the Chevalier St. Pierre, one of the most noble, most generous of human beings. He was returning from the theatre of Feydeau, when the robbers attacked him; and, having warily defended himself, he was severely hurt in the struggle. I conducted him to his lodgings in the Place Vendome, and having promised to wait upon him the next morning, I left him to the care of his servant, and took my leave. On the morrow I did not forget my promise, and I was received with every mark of affectionate regard. St. Pierre was just three years older than myself, and was a captain in the 16th Hussars. He was a man of good family and connexions, and being likewise blessed with a heart of more than human mildness, he imagined himself under obligations to me too great for him ever to repay. He accordingly declared himself my friend, and offered to assist me to the utmost of his ability in any way which I should desire. My predilection for the army still continued; I told him of it, and in a few days I was appointed a cornet in the same regiment with my friend. Having the full approbation of my father, whom, before I took so decided a step, I felt myself bound in duty and in affection to consult. All was now joy and delight with me; St. Pierre insisted upon my sharing his lodgings; and as my excellent father, together with his approval of my conduct, had sent me all the money he could raise, both by his own funds and by his credit, I was speedily equipped in such a style as not to disgrace my new friend. By him I was introduced to the gay circle of his acquaintances; I was received amongst them much to my own satisfaction; and in a few days the quiet retired student of physic was converted into the polite and fashionable Cornet Dumain of the 16th Hussars. About a week after this change had taken place, I was conducted by my friend to the house of Madame St. Omar. It was a fête in honour of her daughter's birth-day, who had just completed her seventeenth year. The apartments were brilliantly illuminated, and crowded with beauty and fashion; but from the moment of my entering them I saw nothing save Julia St. Omar. I was introduced to her by St. Pierre himself as his preserver, and she extended her hand to me with a smile. Oh, such a smile! Years have elapsed, but it has never faded from my memory. [To be continued.] DEAF AND DUMB. FROM A MANCHESTER PAPER. We were yesterday much interested in attending the exhibition, at the Exchange Dining-room, of two of the pupils educated by Mr. Humphreys, at the National Institution at Claremont, near Dublin. A large black board, fixed in an upright frame, served as a tablet, on which the questions and answers were written with chalk. In the commencement, a few of the former were put by the master; after which, they were suggested by any of the company who chose. Though it was evident that the boys were deficient in some of the idiomatic subtleties of the language, their replies often displayed much smartness. To a question, "What is a handsome woman like, and why ?” the answer was, "like a peacock, bes cause she shows her beauties to gentlemen."-Amongst other questions and answers were the following:-"What is geography?—A description of the surface of the earth. What is love?Fond. What is charity?-To give some things to the poor. Who is the king?— Fourth George. Describe him. I saw him he was great and fatman. What is flattery?-Encourage to the ladies. What do you like best, and why?The Bible; a beautiful news to make me wise of God. What is your object in coming here?-To get some money from the people to build a new school." We cannot say that the attempt to teach the boys to speak appeared to us to have been very successful. A few words we could comprehend; but, generally, their articulation was by no means intelligible. cherries, he said, they were but wastemeat. He made an end of a whole hog once, and after it swallowed three pecks of damsons; this was after breakfast, for he said he had eat one pottle of milk, one pottle of pottage, with bread, butter, and cheese before. He eat in my presence, saith Taylor, the water poet, six penny wheaten loaves, three sixpenny veal pies, one pound of sweet butter, one good dish of thornback, and a sliver of a peck household loaf, an inch thick, and all this within the space of an hour: the house yielded no more, so he went away unsatisfied. One John Dale was too hard for him, at a place called Lenham. He laid wager he could fill Wood's belly with good wholesome victuals for two shillings: and a gentleman waged on the contrary, that, when he had eaten out Dale's two shillings, he should then presently eat up a good sirloin of beef. Dale brought six pots of mighty ale, and twelve new penny white loaves, which he sopped therein, the powerful fume whereof conquered this conqueror, and laid him asleep, to the preservation of the roast beef, and unexpected winning of the wager. He spent all his estate to provide for his belly; and though a landed man, and a true labourer, he died very poor in 1630. 6 8 METHOD OF PREVENTING SUFFOCATION 0 0 168 0 6 8 2 10 0 2 6 8 1 15 0 4 0 13 1 3 4 One Nicholas Wood, of Harrison, in the county of Kent, yeoman, did eat with ease a whole sheep of 168. price, and that raw, at one meal. At Sir W. Sedley's he eat as much as would have sufficed 30 men. At the Lord Wotton's, in Kent, he eat at one meal 84 rabbits, which number would have sufficed 168 men, allowing to each half a rabbit. He suddenly devoured 18 yards of black pudding, London measure; and having once eat 60 pound weight of BY CARBONIC ACID GAS. Several instances have lately occurred of the fatal effects of Carbonic Acid Gas, upon persons who had inhaled that pernicious air. The manner in which this gas operates, in causing suffocation, has not been distinctly ascertained; but it is generally supposed to produce an instantaneous irritation of the windpipe, and by shutting that organ, to suspend the power of respiration. It is probable, however, that it has a more diffused influence over the system, and that its action, as a sedative, extends to the lungs, and even to the heart itself; as Bergman, the Swedish chemist, ascertained that animals deprived of life by this subtile poison, present no signs of irritability the moment they become lifeless, a sufficient proof of its paralyzing influence over the nervous system. But in whatever manner it produces its deadly effects, the instances of these are so numerous, as to render it extremely desirable to be acquainted with some method by which its operation may be checked, or its destructive properties counteracted. If the caustic alkalis, or slacked quicklime, could readily be procured, solutions of these substances, sprinkled into wells, cavities, vats, &c. containing carbonic gas, would speedily absorb the deleterious air, and thus prevent its destructive consequences upon persons, who, not aware of their danger, had incautiously ventured into such places. But when accidents of this kind occur, these substances can seldom be obtained, either quickly enough or in sufficient quantity, so that in general, life would be gone before we could avail ourselves of their chemical properties. In these circumstances we beg to suggest, that probably the most effectual remedy for the evil, is to pour water from a common watering-pan into the place containing the noxious air. This will produce a two-fold effect; the water dispersed in drops will be, in the most favourable circumstances, for absorbing the gas, while it will carry down with it a large portion of pure air, upon the principle of the waterblowing machine. The quantity of water necessary for the purpose will not be so great as to endanger suffocation by drowning; and at any rate, the person exposed to it would have a greater chance of surviving, even if he were completely immersed in water, than if he were to remain the same length of time surrounded by an atmosphere of carbonic acid gas. Not a moment should be lost in pouring in the water, and if no watering-pan is conveniently near, the water should be laved in expeditiously with the hand. To some of our readers it may be necessary to state, that the suffocating air extricated from fermenting liquors, and burning charcoal, is the same as the air we have denominated carbonic acid gas. LONDON IN 1707. Bridewell Bridge-is a strong stone bridge over the Fleet Brook, right against the back gate of Bridewell. It is much higher than the street, built with battlements, is only for the use of foot passengers, who ascend and descend by steps. Here is this inscribed thereon, "Built Anno Dom. MDCLXXII. Sir G. Waterman, Major. 13 For every lobster boat, &c. And for every oyster The money to be disposed of as the lord mayor and court of aldermen shall direct. Castle Yard Bagnio-called Trimmels, is kept in Castle Yard, where is sweating, hot bathing, and other convenient refreshments. His rates are 4 s. or 3 s. per head, and 'tis for the most part in readiness. City Conduit Water-is curious clear water, conveyed from springs about Hide Park, to my lord mayor's banqueting house, between Tyburn-road and Tyburn; and thence in lead pipes it serves several streets in the liberty of Westminster and that way. This conduit water is let, the least for 24 s. per annum, but without fine or lease. Cold Bath-The most noted and first about London was that near Sir John Oldcastle's, where, in the year 1697, Mr. Baines undertook and yet manages this business of cold bathing, which they say is good against rheumatisms, convulsions in the nerves, &c.; but of that those who have made the experiments are the best judges. The rates are 2s. 6d. if the chair is used, and 2s. without it. Southwark Cold Bath-is situated in Queen-street, in the Mint. It was first opened in the year 1705; kept by one Mr. Adamson, apothecary. Here are eleven crutches, which they say were those of persons cured by this water. Conduits were formerly many, being much used; but since there is such plenty of clear wholsome water brought into peoples houses from the New River, Thames, Marrowbone, &c. the conduits, as the Stocks Market, Snow Hill, Cheapside, &c. are of little use. Convex Lights-The office is kept at the White Hart, on the East side of Bread-street; and by stat. 5 & 6 William and Mary, the city may leave to the persons concerned in the convex Billingsgate-Here (by stat. 10 & 11 lights, the sole use of such lights within |