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2. The moon was the second habitable globe. Organized nature subsisted upon her surface during 60,000 years at the most. It is now about 2318 years since she became too cold to be the seat of animal and vegetable life. 3. Mars continued habitable during 47,992 years, and

ceased to be so at least 4000 years ago.

4. In the fourth satellite of Saturn, organized beings may still exist; but they must be in a state of languor bordering upon death.

5 The fifth satellite of Jupiter, though very cold, is less so than the fourth satellite of Saturn, and life may yet be preserved there for a certain number of centuries.

6. Organized nature may have been established in the planet Mercury, about the year 24,813 of the formation of the planets, and may yet subsist there during 162,952

years.

7. Our earth was the seventh habitable globe. It is 4062 years since it was first animated by nature, such as we now behold it, which will continue to subsist there during 93,291 years.

8. In the third satellite of Saturn, which was the eighth habitable globe, the temperature is at the degree to which it was reduced in our earth three or four thousand years ago; so that animated nature must be in a state of great vigour there.

9. In the second satellite of Saturn, organized nature is endued with a still higher degree of activity, being such as it was upon our globe eight or nine thousand years ago. 10. The first satellite of Saturn was habitable somewhat later, and is still more favourable to the development of life; which is at this time no less vigorous in that planet, than it was in ours twelve or thirteen thousand years ago. 11. Venus was the eleventh habitable globe, and has, probably, been the seat of animated nature since the year 41,996; that is to say, eight or ten thousand years after the period when our earth first began to be inhabited: life must, therefore, be enjoyed there in the same degree of perfection in which it subsisted in ours six or seven thousand years ago, and it is destined to continue there much longer than with us, as it will not be extinct before the year 228,940; so that this planet will have been habitable 186,571 years.

I cannot help observing here, Madam, that Venus must be a charming planet, as we have every reason to believe that a perpetual spring reigns upon almost every part of her surface.

12. The ring of Saturn enjoys, at this time, a temperature somewhat more elevated than that which renders Venus so delicious an abode: life will become extinct there nearly at the same period when it will cease to be possible upon our earth.

13. Organized nature is only just established in the third satellite of Jupiter, but it will continue there till the

year 247,401.

14. It is about 15,000 years since the development of life was possible in Saturn, which was the fourteenth habitable globe; yet, as this planet, in consequence of its great magnitude, will become cold very slowly, it will not be reduced to the present temperature of our earth in less than 66,000 years, and life may yet subsist upon its surface 262,020 years..

15. The second satellite of Jupiter has been habitable 18,407 years, and will continue so till the year 271,098 of the formation of the planets.

16. The first satellite of Jupiter began to be inhabited 3666 years ago, and life will yet subsist there during 247,000 years.

17. Jupiter, by reason of his enormous dimensions, has not yet had time to grow sufficiently cold to permit the development of life upon his surface; he will not become habitable in less than 40,791 years, but he will continue so during the space of 367,498 years.

I know not, Madam, what judgment you may form of opinions advanced with so much confidence upon subjects, apparently so far removed beyond the sphere of our knowledge; but Buffon was so well convinced of their impor

tance, that, after having unfolded them with minute exactness, he adds:

"Such are the conclusions to which I have come; such is the object which I desired to attain. The trouble which has attended these investigations, and the number of preliminary experiments which they have rendered necessary, may give some idea how firmly I am persuaded of the probable truth of my hypothesis on the formation of the planets; and lest it should be thought that my opinions are supported by insufficient reasons, I shall, in the following memoir, lay before the reader those by which I have been convinced."

[To be continued.]

Men and Manners.

ON MAUVAISE HONTE.

There are few things which we witness with more pain, or from which suffer greater inconvenience, than mauvaise honte. Indifferently of the disquietude it inflicts on its possessor, to see another person writhing under the influence of this most uncomfortable and unsocial feeling is absolutely annoying, nay, even distressing, to the beholder. In the first, the fear of making some mistake, or committing some solecism in good breeding; and the second, the dread of increasing it, entirely throws a chill over society, "as damp as wet blankets," and freezes up the sources of intelligent communication.

True mauvaise honte does not consist in the awkward feeling which an ignorant, ill-bred person feels in the society of others of superior manners or acquirements, and for this reason,-that true mauvaise honte is impossible to be extinguished altogether, whereas, by condescending manners, and affability of demeanour, the clown may be reassured so far as to feel himself quite at ease, nay, sometimes to behave with familiarity towards the gentleman. Nor is it that feeling of modesty which a young and timid mind is often oppressed with in the society of persons of greater intellect than itself. It is a want of tact, a certain gaucherie, which nothing can overcome. It makes a person always feel out of place, and say things the most mal-apropòs possible; commit, with the best intentions, the most unpolite actions, without being sensible of it; finally, to define it in a few words, we may say, that want of perception completes that most unsociable annoying feeling-mauvaise honte.

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to go through his avocations with perspicuity, or eve with propriety. If a clergyman, he slurs over his day with carelessness; if a physician, he makes a thous blunders, and commits a thousand sins against mela etiquette; indeed, in whatever situation he is placed, be is always out of place.

Again, the bashful man, though constantly er dearca. ing to shrink from observation, is sure to attract it, b many petite awkwardnesses too tedious to mention, wh they expose him perpetually to notice and derision ex tremely painful to him. But let us suppose him to be placed in well-bred society, disposed to tolerate and rule every allowance for all his mistakes, he is still unhap at perceiving himself only tolerated; and seeing hired the source of so much inconvenience to others, he feel pained by the very kindness extended towards him fa the consciousness of having required it.

I have thus (though very inperfectly) endav define the principal characteristics of the man of honte; if any reader behold his own portrait, let him a be discouraged, but improve as much as possible, rev. bering the adage,-"Nothing is denied to well-dra labour."

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MY COUNTRYMEN,-It has, happily, never be question with us, and is, happily, no longer a questi this country, whether scriptural education should be versal or not. The propriety, yea, the ncccnty of 12, 1 now recognised and revered by all Protestant authern a and institutions. Both the Church and the State ap at length, to the throne and the altar, the preplan, Now the experience of ages has proved, that PELIC maxim, "Knowledge shall be the stability of times SCHOOLS are the only effectual means of educating the PUBLIC at large. Many parents cannot, and still will not, teach their children to read the scriptures. H arises the necessity of supplying their lack of service by school societies; and of making parental duty a sa onal duty, until that necessity cease to exist. When t time will arrive, when it shall be unnecessary for any "to teach his neighbour," we cannot tell; but, at sent, if knowledge is to be increased," it is indispe that many run to and fro in the earth" to promote On this prophetic maxim the GALIC SCHOO conducted: they are literally circulating schools teachers of which "run to and fro" in the Highlanda al Hebrides, that knowledge may be increased. L own northern lights, they are shifting, as well as lights: but shifting, not capriciously; shining, Lo as the aurora-borealis. No, indeed: like the sun. illuminate and warm one hemisphere before they to another, and also return again on that which t^) --for a time.

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I have heard it said by some author, whose name I do not exactly recollect at present, that it arises from vanity, and a feeling of consequence, which makes a person imagine that he or she is the chief object of observation, and for that reason suppose that their minutest actions are carefully observed. That this may create a feeling of temporary uneasiness, is (I think) very possible; yet, really, vain persons would soon put themselves at case by the consoling reflection, that whatever they did would be executed in as good a manner as possible, that allowances efficiency of the Galic schools; and so grat So convinced am I, from personal knowled would be made for their superior consequence, abilities, sacred regard to the BIBLE, as their CLASS-05&c. and that thus any little breach of politeness would be cannot deny myself the pleasure of applying overlooked, or considered as "spots on the sun." sublime prediction of Isaiah,-"The wilderness a From whatever source it arises, however, it is a most solitary place shall be glad for them; and the den painful feeling, and a person afflicted with it should en rejoice and blossoma as the rose. It shall bles dantly, and rejoice even with joy and singings to d deavour to cure himself of it by every possible means, as of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excelency it destroys every pleasure that the company of the intelli-mel and Sharon: they shall see the glory e thell gent and literary would otherwise produce. The painful con- and the excellency of our God. Ch. xxxv. V. sciousness of inferiority and awkwardness, makes the hand Whatever may be thought of the possibility nervous and the tongue faltering, and not only destroys this splendid prospect, in the Highlands and hum all capability of enjoyment, but renders the person so afflicted unable to do what each one should do, when in society, as much as possible, that is, to contribute his mite to the general store of amusement and instruction. But woe betide the man oppressed by this feeling, who is ever obliged to appear in public. This last circumstance lays the coping-stone to i discomfort: like the last feather which breaks the hos back, so does this give the coup de grace, and renders t impossible for him

means of schools, all will admit that it is

and 1

"A consummation devoutly to be wished:" an event as desirable as it is dazzling; and which schools, cannot be realized in any place. It generally admitted, that, compared with Er Lowlands of Scotland, the Highlands "the wilderness," the solitary place," and sert" of Great Britain. The wildernesses, solinry! and deserts of our native country, are, indeed, and, some of them, beautiful. To us, at least, t tain a charm which no other scenes possess. We even

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as if it were ungrateful and unjust to apply to them such epithets as "wilderness-solitary-desert." You will not, however, suspect me of any intention to degrade or underrate "the land of the Gael." I know it-admire it-love it! I have dwelt amidst its majestic solitudes, and shared its cordial hospitalities. All the elements of picturesque landscape, and examples of every style of scenery, abound in the Highlands. Whatever lakes of every form, and mountains of every hue, and valleys of every depth, and seas of every character, can do for country, is done there. Indeed, it would be difficult to say whether poetry, painting, science, or taste, had the widest range of gratification in these regions. But, 'after all, there are dreary wilder. messes on the main land, and almost every island is a "solitary place;" for the population, if not small, is scattered; mutual intercourse but occasional, and the means of improvement scanty.

On this subject I must state facts, whoever they may offend. The very circumstances which give natural grandeur to this alpine scenery, are the most formidable ob. stacles to the improvement of the alpine people. The glens and gulfs, the rocks and ravines, the cascades and cataracts, the sounds and lochs, the mountains and moors, the whirlwinds and whirlpools, the mists and tempests of the Highlands, which figure so well in poetry and painting, and are really magnificent, form the chief barriers to the progress of both general and religious knowledge amongst the inhabitants. It is of importance to the cause I am about to plead, to bear this in mind. If, therefore, Countrymen, you will challenge the world to rival, in romantic scenery," the land of bright lakes and blue mountains." I solemnly charge you to remember that these inevitably divide the people, and render access to them difficult, and travelling amongst them dangerous. It may be all very well, as a matter of taste, to exclaim with the Poet,

"O England, thy beauties are tame and domestic, To one who has wandered the mountains afar: Restore me the rocks that are wild and majestic,

The steep frowning glories of dark Lochnygar;"

vantages which would result from the universal spread have acquired, and do maintain, a degree of moral influ-
of the English language, while the eternal welfare of the ence far greater than could be expected, when the size of
existing generation is at stake. Must they live and die in the parishes and the perils of attending public worship, are
ignorance, that the next generation may be able to buy and taken into account. There must be knowledge, and principle
sell in broken English or broad Scotch? Must they sit too, amongst a people who, perhaps, on an average, travel
out their time in darkness, that their remote posterity may from five to ten miles to church, and that over ways and
be able to walk in the light of English literature, and share waves dreary and dangerous. I have seen the kirk-yard
the full benefits of British commerce? While sciolists and of Kilcolmkill, in Morven, crowded before the bell rang
political economists are speculating, thousands of the poor in, although the rain had been pouring in torrents all the
Gael are dying, and tens of thousands struggling with morning. Such a Sabbath would have kept one half of
hardships which only religious knowledge can mitigate or the population of Liverpool at home: but there I saw
sanctify.
many of the aged, and one veteran, upwards of 100 years
Let me conduct you from plausible theories to sober re-old, who had walked seven miles to church. There is in
alities in "the solitary places" of the Highlands. If, with the Highlands and Islands a general regard to the Sab-
all our conveniences and comforts, we find that happiness bath and to public worship; but while nine-tenths of the
depends on drawing freely and frequently from the foun- population cannot read the scriptures, their silent Sab-
tains of religious truth; and if, under our trials, bereave- baths must pass heavily and without profit; and divine
ments, privations, and sufferings, we need all the support ordinances, when enjoyed, must be less useful than in an
that bibles, books, ministers, and intelligent friends can educated country.
furnish, and find all little enough in the day of calamity, And now, Countrymen, I appeal to you in behalf of our
what must be the case in those solitary places, when countrymen, of our Gælic brethren. They periled their
food is scarce, when sickness prevails, when death makes lives for the defence and fame of Britain: they nobly
them more solitary? Were there only the long nights of sustained the national honour and their own ancient cha-
their long winter to be cheered by the light of knowledge, racter.
these call for it loudly; for how the mind must sink un- people, under the most distressing privations of the ordi-
Nor is this their chief glory: they are a contented
der the depression of the spirits, or settle in utter vacancy, nary comforts of life: they are an intellectual people, not-
amidst the dismal howlings of the tempest and the melan- withstanding all their disadvantages: and, in settling down
choly "sound of many waters.' No wonder that High- as they did, calmly and harmoniously, under the star of
landmen, and especially the Islanders, are constitutionally Brunswick, under British laws, authorities, and institu-
melancholy: they grow up amidst sights and sounds di- tions, and that in a moment, as it were, they present an
rectly calculated to awe and sadden the heart: their minds example unparalleled in history. There is no other mag-
catch, insensibly, the sombre hue of their mists and soli-nificent example of a disunited, turbulent, and uncivilised
tudes, making them more dreary and infectious by gloomy people subsiding, at once, into order and subordination.
superstitions. Surrounding nature, in many of its aspects, The nation was born in a day to loyalty; and now let it
is, indeed, inspiring; but not to the uneducated peasantry be born to religion. Give it scriptural knowledge; and,
of the islands: they have neither eye nor ear for the sub- like the Romans, in the time of St. Paul, the fame of its
lime, as a source of enjoyment. It is true they are enthu- faith will rival the fame of its arms, and its loyalty to
siastically attached to the scenes of their nativity; but not Christ eclipse even its loyalty to the British Crown.
from taste; not because the scenery is wild and majestic.
The magnetic charm which binds them to the soil is, its
tors, the home of their family. If they are held by "cords
of love," these are all domestic, not intellectual Aged
parents, infant children, revered chiefs, form the real ties
between their hearts and the Highlands. The romantic,
the picturesque, and the sublime, have no charms for them,
apart from the memory of the dead and the claims of the
living; but are felt to be sources of barrenness, fatigue,
privation, and peril. And they are so they may expand
and clevate the mind of "the way-faring man, who turns
aside to tarry for a night;" but the inhabitants of the
rock" suffer on the rock, and, therefore, are alive only to
its inconveniences.

but, as a matter of conscience, it is no credit to any Scotch-being the land of their fathers, the grave of their anceszaman, to boast of highland scenery, if he has done nothing to improve highland society. With all my admiration of ALBYN MAROON, (and mine is not learned from books, but from personal observation,) I cannot help feeling that, like the armed Venus on Cæsar's signet ring, who was, at once, an emblem of his glory and disgrace, the natural glories of the Highlands and Hebrides hinder much their moral and religious improvement. Had the alpine scebery of Britain been like the English, “tame and domestie, instead of being "wild and majestic," the KIRK OF SCOTLAND would not have had to report, in the nineteenth century, that 300,000 of her Gælic flock could not read the scriptures in any language; nor would there have been, as at this moment, 10,000 children of her communion without the means of education; nor would there have been held, during the last month, a public meeting in the metropolis of Scotland, to petition Government for help to educate the Highlanders. All this is unlike the genius of our national church: an anomaly in our national character. But here, I hesitate not to affirm, is one chief cause: the Islands are, at once, "solitary places," and of difficult access. But for this, the glory of Lebanon," which is on the Grampians, would have been, long ere now, upon Scalpa, and the excellency of Shaon, upon St. Kilda. Even Ben Becula and Rona would not have sat in darkness and in the shadow of death." But the solitary places" have been visited only by a few solitary tourists, and their terrific accounts of storms or starvation have intimidated even the enterprising. In fact, none but Highlandmen can penetrate the Highlands With effect. The language, the climate, the customs; in award, all the localities of the Islands are such, that naves only could teach or preach with success. Natural causes have not, however, been the only hin. drances to the improvement of the Highlands: political 'causes have interrupted the progress of knowledge in these districts. It was once thought good policy to withhold the Gelic bible, and obliterate the Gælic language, that, thus, the Galic people might be gradually alienated from the Stuart dynasty. Never was a plan more calculated to defeat its own object; for, whatever were the partialities of the Highlanders to the House of Stuart, not to that House, either in its prosperity or in its adversity, would they have sacrificed their native and ancient language. The Celtic has hitherto defied and defeated all attempts made to abolish it. How long it will continue to do so I neither conjecture nor care. The Gaelic is the language, the fuvourite language of the people; and, if the people are not to be allowed to perish for lack of knowledge," knowledge must be communicated to them through that medium. It will not do to speculate upon the temporal ad

All this is sober fact: and, when you add to this the vicissitudes of health, food, and life, in these solitary places, what scenes of unalleviated pain, of lonely suffering, of unsoothed grief, of uncheered dying, rise before the mind, claiming our sympathy and assistance. From how many huts and hovels in the wilderness must issue the piercing cry "Have pity upon me, O my friends, have pity upon me, for the hand of God hath touched me!" Now, were there, by each heather bed of the aged, the sick, and the dying, only a Galic boy, with a Galic bible, to read of "the life and immortality brought to light by the gospel," of "the great and free salvation which is by Christ Jesus," of the great and precious promises" of the God of love, what despair this might banish, what hope it might confirm, what wounds of the heart it might heal, what resignation of soul it might produce! "The wilderness and the solitary place" would be made glad by such readers; and, if "the desert" did not" blossom as the rose," its aspect would, at least, become brighter, and the valley of the shadow of death" less appalling. These are the beneficial effects of the bible upon those who "read, mark, and inwardly digest" its sacred truths: and then, from their happy influence upon the suffering and the dying, there is a natural and powerful reaction upon the rising generation. The reflection of the aged will repay, with interest, the learning of the young. The effect of divine truth on the man will illustrate its meaning and importance to the boy who reads; and, when it makes the father or mother, the grandfather or grandmother, "wise unto salvation," and happy in their own minds, the bible will thus become endeared to the son and daughter.

It is not intended, of course, by these views of the Highlands, to convey the idea of ignorance being as general as inability to read is. There is much ignorance of divine truth prevails throughout all the Highlands; but not of that kind which leads to the utter neglect of religion. The Gælic pulpits, although

"Few and far between,"

*Miscellanies.

Lord Edward Fitzgerald, the Irish Patriot.—“What a noble fellow," said Lord Byron," was Lord Edward Fitzgerald !-and what a romantic and singular history was his! If it were not too near our times it would make the finest subject in the world for an historical novel. He was a soldier from a boy. He served in America; and was left for dead in one of the pitched battles (I forget which) and returned in the list of killed. Having been found in the field, after the removal of the wounded, he was recovered by the kindness and compassion of a native, and restored to his family as one from the grave. On coming back to England he employed himself entirely in the duties of his corps and the study of military tactics, and got a regiment. The French revolution now broke out, and with it a flame of liberty burnt in the breast of the young Irishman. He paid, this year, a visit to Paris, where he formed an intimacy with Tom Paine, and came over with him to England. These matters rested, till, dining one day at his regimental mess, he ordered the band to play Ca ira,' the great revolutionary air. A few days afterwards he received a letter from head-quarters, to say that the King dispensed with his services. He now paid a second visit to America, where he lived two years among the na tive Indians; and, once again crossing the Atlantic, settled on his family estate in Ireland, where he fulfilled all the duties of a country-gentleman and a magistrate. There it was that he became acquainted with the O'Connors, and, in conjunction with them, zealously exerted himself for the emancipation of their country. On their imprisonment he was proscribed, and secreted for six weeks in what are called the liberties of Dublin; but was at length betrayed by a woman. Medwin's Conversations.

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Two Pulpits. The Philadelphia National Gazette of July 16 says, "A curious public dispute is waged in this city. Two of our clergymen, the Rev. Mr. M'Cauley, and the Rev. Abner Kneeland, have been, for some days, debating, before a numerous audience, in the Universalists' Church, in Lombard-street, the point, whether a part of the human race will be eternally damned, or the whole ultimately saved. Three moderators or judges have been Ichosen, who sit behind each of the contending divines at he urges his opinion according to his favourite explanation of the text of scripture. We learn, from gentlemen who have entered the church for a short time, that the dispu tants seemed intensely earnest, and the moderators profoundly attentive. Stenographers, it is added, are employed in taking down the arguments, in order that they may be reported."

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splendour of the scene, at an assembly held there some time ago, that she exclaimed, "This is what we cannot have in London, because we have not the rooms." This is certainly true. That there are, in the metropolis, separate rooms, exceeding most of those at the Town-hall, individually, there is no doubt; but, as a suite of rooms, the latter are, I believe, unrivalled in these kingdoms.

At a ball, such as the one now announced, all respectable persons, of whatever rank, profession, or business, meet on a footing of perfect amity: it is a republic of charitable feeling; and as the motives of each person are equal, so are their enjoyments. I have heard, indeed, of some departures, occasionally, from the strict rule of equality, but they really amount to nothing; they have arisen merely on the part of very young persons, from the want of the routine of the dances, or of points of etiquette, being laid down by a master of the ceremonies; and it is well known that offence may often be taken when none was intended. However, we have so many gentlemen in Liverpool capable of presiding over the arrangements, that I hope some one will undertake the office in future.

In conclusion, I can assure the most punctilious, nay the most religious, members of the community, that, so far as my experience goes, they may join this scene of reasonable mirth with every confidence of experiencing a refined enjoyment.-Yours, &c. AMICUS.

The Beauties of Chess.

"Ludimus effigiem belli"............VIDA.

SOLUTION TO GAME XXIII.

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letters from, very many gentlemen of great respectability persons who were strangers to him also wrote to hits, gaining the esteem and confidence of those who b sent him books. He appears to have possessed the at of acquainted with him. He was in many instances appo trustee and executor, and acted in the latter capacity the late Mr. West, President of the Royal Acade About three weeks before he suffered, he had an intervi with his wife, which is said to have been very affecting them both. She was afterwards in the habit of vist him almost every day. A remarkable change took pla in his spirits subsequently to his trial: his mind seemed to be relived from a weight of anxiety and apprehension and a degree of tranquillity and even cheerfulness ensued He once observed to a friend, that it happened most remat ably that the magistrate by whom he was committed was Mr. Conant, with whom, as well as with his father (the late Sir Nathaniel) he had for years been on terms of friendship; and that he had occasionally, at the house of a friend, spent an evening with the Judge who pronounced the sentence of death upon him.

Mr. Fauntleroy was in the 41st year of his age, of mid. dle stature, rather inclined to stoutness, his complexion was pale, and his hair quite gray; being short-sighted, he constantly wore glasses; his manners were easy and gentlemanlike, and bespoke his having been accustomed to genteel society. He might be said to have a good taste on certain subjeets, and was not deficient of intelliges and readiness of perception; he was gifted with iss siderable portion of application and expertness in bung his temper appeared to be mild and equable, but he by no means endowed with intellectual excellence, sessed of general information; his education could have been liberal, as it is believed he was acquainted t no language but his own. Without referring with cessary severity to his faults, it cannot be disguised t his habits of life had been voluptuous, nor can it bes by his most partial friends, that he was entitled character of a man of honest principles, when, cons that he was an insolvent, and had been guilty of t and forgeries to perhaps the extent of half a mil money, he could live at the rate of nearly four thousand year, and build and furnish a house of pleasure at Brij ton, at an expense of seven thousand pounds.

The father of the unfortunate Henry Fauntleroy was a wine-merchant of respectability in the city, and was, for some time in the banking-house of Barclay and Co. residing, at the time of the birth of Henry, in London-street, Fenchurch-street, and, many years back, joined Mr. Marsh, the navy-agent, and Sir James Sibbald, in the banking-house in Berner's-street, where they acquired a good business. In this concern Henry was, for some time, acting as a clerk; but, on the death of his father, he became a partner. At this period, it is said, the finances of the house were by no means in a prosperous state, and they were, of course, rendered still worse by bad debts, and by four partners annually drawing out no inconsiderable sums for their private expenses. Mr. Fauntleroy has ECEMBER TALES. Foolscap 8vo. price 5s. 6d. been heard to say, during his late imprisonment, that the house ought to have stopped payment in the year 1810. None of the partners, as it has since appeared, were really men of property; they had every one overdrawn their accounts; and but for the fraudulent transactions for which the subject of these remarks has forfeited his life, the creditors would not have received 2s. in the pound upon their respective debts. It is difficult to ascertain the precise period at which Mr. Fauntleroy first began the dangerous practice of forgery, or the amount which from time to time he secretly removed and replaced, but it has appeared that in the course of the last eight or ten years the extent has been immense. During this period, al. though leading a life of apparent ease and gaiety, he described his mind as having been the seat of intense anxiety and perturbation he could rest but little in the night, and was frequently observed by his friends to dose when in company; and when in confinement in Coldbath-fields Prison, he declared, pointing to his hard bed, that he had slept more soundly upon it than he had done for ten years before. He seldom spoke of his wife, but it appears that she was in the habit of going to him periodically, at the banking-house, for the purpose of receiving a certain allow. ance, it is said £400 per annum, which he made to her. He must have been married young, being little above 40 at the time of his death; and his son, who is in his 15th "The time is fast approaching, when at length the year, is a fine youth, educated at Winchester, and who gloomy veil of death will encompass the setting su visited his unhappy father almost every day after he was human existence, and the meridian gleams of early removed to Newgate. Of this gloomy place Mr. F. felt a enjoyments will be eclipsed from all worldly pursuits: great dread; but on his being committed there, he found soul will be separated from the excitement of all h that he enjoyed more privileges than he could have ex- depravity of action-from the voice of relatives and frie pected, and expressed, to his latest hour, unfeigned grati- to await the call of an Almighty power, till a celest tude for the kindness and humanity which had been mani-tribunal shall sit in judgment over the sinful conse fested towards him by the Sheriffs, Aldermen, the Ordinary, the Governor, and, indeed, by all connected with the gaol. His friends were allowed to visit him to the last, and particularly, except during a short period, Mrs. Forbes, the lady of whom so much has been said: she is about 22 years of age, and possessed of personal beauty; she has two children, daughters, of the ages of seventeen and three months. It is true that she was educated at a convent at Rouen, but Mr. Fauntleroy did not first see her there, as he was never in France, except once at Calais, and then for only about six and thirty hours. Mrs. Forbes speaks the French language with the propriety of a native, and is a proficient in music; she is described as having been much beloved at the convent, whither she has twice been on a visit since her acquaintance with Mr. Fauntleroy; her name is not Forbes, but she has assumed it, at least since Mr. Fauntleroy's troubles. He appeared to be nuch attached to her. He did not deny that, about eight or nine years back, he had some acquaintance with the infamous woman, Mrs. Bertram, but declared that he never suffered himself to be duped in the way that has been represented. It has been alleged, that he expended large sums upon a Miss C, an actress; this report be contradicted in the most unqualified terms, and explained the probable manner in which that lady has become possessed of so much property.

Biographical Notices.

MR. FAUNTLEROY.

Several weeks since, a portrait of Mr. Fauntleroy was published in some of the papers, representing that unfortunate and guilty delinquent as he appeared at the bar on his trial. It was said to be a very striking likeness; but it was very ill engraved. That which we now present to our readers is much better finished. We have had it by

Mr. Fauntleroy had apartments at the banking-house in Berner's-street, where his mother and sister resided; but his home was at Lambeth, where he kept two female servants and a gardener: he had also his elegant house at Brighton, which cost about £7,000, where his mother spent many months every year. He stated his annual'expenses to be about £3,000 to £3,500. He always spoke Mr. John Fauntleroy, who is a solicitor, and who was unin high terms of the affection and fidelity of his brother, remitting in his attention to him in the hour of calamity. During his imprisonment, he was visited by, and received

The following is an extract from a letter sent by M Henry Fauntleroy to a friend, shortly preceding his exe cution, charging him to console his wife and regard his children:

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Feign would I leave this transitory stage with worldly care, but such are the feelings of nature bur forth on the agonies of my life, that I cannot quit, des of a husband's and parent's feelings, without casting lingering and longing hope for those from whom parted. Oh! my wife, my children, my all that is d and injured by me on earth, for thee with a contrite bet mercy is implored, and I trust that by thee forgivene sought. I am brought to a due sense of my state; as a man, but die as a Christian, in the faith of me the all supreme omnipotence of a Divine will, thigh pentance of an ill-spent life.

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Regard my fate, and kindly remember the ent of my parting breath. As an expiring victim of c I enjoin ye, the parents of my dear children, to best them your maternal kindness; and as you value their e tence, so regulate their morals. Awaken them with ad knowledge of the solemn and awful event of their fathe fate, that they may avoid the track of the evil path of ma check, in the spring of their years, the budding growth vice, ere they are overrun with the thorns of human depa vity; cultivate their minds with spiritual grace, that th may seek affiance in an overruling power: for your gu take a divine precept-Train up a child in the way should go, and when he is old he will not depart from With fervent prayer I hope that, under their tender mothe care, they may prove a moral example to posterity, by the rectitude of their lives defy the stigma of a c rious world. May their father's offences never be cruel direct the way of their course till they depart hither adverted to to im bitter their days-may the light of wisd receive the rewards of their virtues from the Heaven Father of all."

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