of his danger. He instantly covered himself with his greatcoat, seized his poniard and two pair of holster pistols, slipped out at a back-door, and concealed himself under the thick foliage of the vines, at about thirty yards distance from the house. The old woman fas. tened the door after him, whilst the gang surrounded the house. She had the presence of mind to make some delay in opening the door, under pretence of requiring time to dress herself. In a few moments she disposed of the king's mattress, and set all to rights. This privileged banditti examined every corner of the house, and a party extended the search to the garden and vineyards; in doing which, the king heard several of them pass within a few paces of him, expressing their wish that they might find him, to enjoy the pleasure of cutting him to pieces, and dividing his spoils. The king afterwards informed me that it was his intention, in case he had been discovered, to kill as many of his assassins as he could; and then, rather than suffer himself to be taken alive, discharge his last pistol at his own head."

was no more.

at Pizzo. The conduct of this officer was honourable | but in many respects and instances a total hostility to
and delicate: be knew how to combine fidelity to his it. They succeeded to an amazing extent, and for an
master with a deep sympathy for the fallen.
amazing length of time, in subjecting mankind to their
One of the ex-king's first steps was to write to the selfish ends; but, as the poor rogue confesses in Gold-
Austrian and English ambassadors, then at Naples, smith's novel, mankind were too much for them at last.
to interest them in his behalf. The letters were de- It cannot be pretended that every instance of such er-
tained by the Neapolitan government until the writer roneous conduct is sure to bring its own punishment:
a desolator of nations may chance to escape much of
Orders now reached Pizzo to try General Murat as the misery that naturally arises from his actions. But
an enemy to the public peace, not by a civil tribunal, of such an exemption there can be no assurance; and
but by a military commission. This order was of when one who has only manifested the inferior pas-
course equivalent to a condemnation. Nunziante was sions of human nature, and employed himself in elicit
unwilling to believe that such a measure would be ing the same in others, falls a victim to them, he has
persisted in, and suspended the proceedings until the only undergone a consequence which was, at all periods
commands of the court should be more fully known. of his career, likely to occur.
On the evening of the 12th, however, his worst fears
were confirmed: the members of the commission ar-
rived, and brought with them a royal decree, which
allowed the prisoner only half an hour after the sen-
tence should be pronounced. The breathless haste of
the ministers is not difficult to be explained: they no
doubt either feared an insurrection of the people in
his favour, or that if the foreign ambassadors heard of
his detention, the accomplishment of their purpose
might be thwarted.

THE FIRST PRIMROSE.
[By Miss Mitford.]
IT is March. Fine March weather: boisterous,
blustering, much wind, and squalls of rain; and yet
the sky where the clouds are swept away deliciously
blue, with snatches of sunshine, bright, and clear
and healthful, and the roads, in spite of the slight glit-
tering showers, crisply dry. Altogether, the day is
tempting, very tempting. It will not do for the dear
common, that windmill of a walk; but the close shel-
tered lanes at the bottom of the hill, which keep out
just enongh of the stormy air, and let in all the sun,
will be delightful. Past our old house, and round by
the winding lanes, and the workhouse, and across the
lea, and so into the turnpike road again that is our
route for to-day. Forth we set, May-flower and I,
rejoicing in the sunshine, and still more in the wind,
which gives such an intense feeling of existence, and,
co-operating with brisk motion, sets our blood and our
Joachim declined the competency of the court-first spirits in a glow. For mere physical pleasure, there
as a sovereign prince, next as a marshal of France. is nothing perhaps equal to the enjoyment of being
He said to his advocate, This tribunal is every way drawn, in a light carriage, against such a wind as
incompetent, and so contemptible, that I should be this, by a blood horse at his height of speed. Walk-
ashamed to appear before it. You cannot save my life, ing comes next to it; but walking is not quite so luxu-
but you will allow me to save the royal dignity. The rious or so spiritual, not quite so much what one fan-
end in view is not justice, but condemnation: thecies of flying, or being carried above the clouds in a
members of the commission are not my judges, but my balloon.
executioners. Speak not in my defence, I command
you.' But remonstrance and protests were vain: the
commission sat, and proceeded.

Murat soon after got off to sea, and after narrowly escaping shipwreck, landed in Corsica, where he was held in too much esteem by the people and the garri. sons, to be in any danger from the Bourbon govern. ment. Here he received a permission, which he had It would be ridiculous to treat of such a trial as fall.. formerly requested, to live in any part of the Austrian ing within any ordinary rules; but certainly the lidominions as a private person, along with his family, cence was pushed far in this case, for not one of the who had already been kindly received in that country. members of the commission was competent, under the But the popularity in which he found himself in Cor-existing law of Naples, to sit in judgment on an officer sica, and some exaggerated accounts of the dissatisfac- of the rank conceded to General Murat. They were tion of the Neapolitans with the legitimate sway of eight in number-one adjutant-general, one colonel. Ferdinand, determined him to make a descent on Cala. commandant, two lieutenant-colonels, two captains, bria, in the mad hope of regaining his kingdom. With and two lieutenants; nor is it much to the credit of a small expedition of six vessels and two hundred solthose officers that most of them had been indebted for diers, he left Corsica on the 28th of September, thus their commissions to him of whose destruction they perilling his last chance even of existence on an enter. were the instruments. prise the wildest ever undertaken. Having lost by storms all the vessels except that in which he himself sailed, and another, he landed at the small sea-port of Pizzo, October the 8th, leaving directions with Barbara, his naval commander, to keep close in shore, so as to be ready to receive him, in case of an unfavourable reception. Attended by only twenty-eight soldiers (including officers) and three domestics, he stepped proudly upon the quay of the little harbour. Some mariners recognised him, and shouted Joachim for ever!' A few idle spectators joined the little band, as it proceeded towards the great square of Pizzo, where the soldiers of the district were then assembled to exercise. The ex-king considered this a fortunate circumstance: like a greater man in a simi. lar situation, he boldly approached them, while his followers unfurled his standard, shouting King Joa. chim for ever!' But the cry was repeated only by one peasant. The soldiers readily recognised his person, but preserved an obstinate silence.

In this last painful scene Murat behaved with more dignity than might have been expected. When, according to usage, the tribunal dispatched one of their body to ask his name, age, country, &c. he hastily ent short the vain formula: I am Joachim Napoleon, King of the Two Sicilies; begone, sir!' He afterwards conversed with perfect coolness and evident satisfaction of all that he had done for his kingdom. He said, and said truly, that for whatever there was of good in the system of administration, the Neapolitans were indebted to him. He then briefly adverted to his present situation. I had expected (said he) to find in Ferdinand a more humane and generous ene. tuations been reversed.'

While Murat was thus speaking to the officers around him—all of whom addressed him by his kingly title, and otherwise treated him with great respect

One would have thought this example sufficient; yet he would continue his way to Monte-Leone, the capital of the province-conduct which can only be explained by a temporary aberration of mind. The road from Pizzo to Monte-Leone is rugged, precipi-my: I would have acted very differently had our si. tous, and difficult; and the little party had not made much progress, before they were pursued by one Trenta. Capilli, a captain of gensdarmes, who headed a number of his men, and some other adherents of the place. the door opened, and one of the commissioners entered (Joachim had never been a favourite with Pizzo, the trade of which he was accused of having injured.) By to read the sentence: he heard it unmoved. He then paths known only to themselves, some of their body requested to see his companions-this was refused; but gained the advance of the party, while the rest ful-permission was given him to write to his wife. His letter was affectionate and affecting; he enclosed in it lowed: thus were the adventurers placed between two fires. Murat, still in the hope of making a favourable Stratti-another gentleman in the service of the reigna lock of his hair, and delivered it unsealed to Captain impression, now advanced towards his assailants, and hailed them: the only answer was a shower of balls.ing king, who exhibited the same honourable feeling One of his officers was killed, another wounded; but he would not suffer his companions to return the fire. His situation was desperate: he saw that his only chance of safety was by reaching the sea; and, leaping from rock to rock, from precipice to precipice, while the shot whistled around him, he at length reached the beach. The treachery of Barbara could no longer be doubted: both vessels were at a considerable distance from the shore, indifferent spectators of his danger! A fishing-boat lay on the beach: he endeavoured to push it into the water, but was unequal to the effort. Some of his companions now joined him, but before they could embark, all were surrounded by the infuriate mob. Resistance was evidently vain : he surrendered his sword, begging only that his brave followers might be spared. But he spoke to the deaf: some of those faithful men were cut down at their mas

ter's side; the rest were hurried away with him, and cast into the same prison.

Here the gensdarmes

searched him; and after depriving him of his money, his jewels, his letters of credit, they, unfortunately for him, found on his person a copy of his proclamation, which he had taken from one of his officers, and which he had imprudently neglected to destroy. Joachim spent a few hours amidst his companions, most of whom were wounded, in a manner highly honourable to his heart-labouring to console them, as if he had no sorrows.of his own. But he was soon removed from the common room into one more private, and more suited to his past dignity, and there waited on by General Nunziante, whose duty it was to interrogate him officially as to his disembarkation

as Nunziante.

When the fatal moment arrived, Murat walked with
a firm step to the place of execution-as calm, as un-
moved, as if he had been going to an ordinary review.
He would not accept a chair, nor suffer his eyes to be
bound. I have braved death (said he) too often to
fear it.' He stood upright, proudly and undauntedly,
with his countenance towards the soldiers; and when
all was ready, he kissed a cornelian on which the head
of his wife was engraved, and gave the word-thus,
'Save my face-aim at my heart-fire!'

Thus perished one whom death had respected in
two hundred combats, and most of whose errors must
be ascribed to a wretched education, and a lamentable
want of self-government, moral energy, reflection, and
patience. Murat was the child of impulse and feel-
ing, not of reason and judgment. Mental discipline
might have concentrated his powers, but hardly with
out destroying the romance of his character.
soldier, he had never a superior, but he was no gene-

As a

ral; as a king, he was liberal, even indulgent, though
often arbitrary from passion or caprice, and profusely
extravagant from his fondness for show: as a man, he
was generous and open-hearted; as a politician, wa-
vering, ill-advised, and weak. In his domestic rela-
tions he was loved more than respected. Of his wife,
whose general talents were far superior to his own,
he was fond; as a father, affectionate; as a friend,

warm-hearted and faithful."

To this we can only add one remark-that Joachim Murat belonged to a system founded upon principles unjust and insulting to his fellow-creatures, and from which, therefore, no good could be expected to come. He and his friends, from the highest to the lowest, • We here borrow from a volume of Mr Murray's excellent Fa- sought, in the main, only their own aggraudisement, mily Library, entitled The Court and Camp of Bonaparte,

with not only very little regard for the public good,

Nevertheless, a walk is a good thing; especially under this southern hedgerow, where nature is just beginning to live again: the periwinkles, with their starry blue flowers, and their shining myrtle-like leaves, garlanding the bushes; woodbines and eldertrees pushing out their small swelling buds; and grasses and mosses springing forth in every variety of brown and green. Here we are at the corner where four lanes meet, or rather where a passable road of stones and gravel crosses an impassable one of beautiful but treacherous turf, and where the small white farm-house, scarcely larger than a cottage, and the well-stocked rick-yard behind, tell of comfort and order, but leave all unguessed the great riches of the master. How he became so rich is almost a puzzle ; for, though the farm be his own, it is not large; and, though prudent and frugal on ordinary occasions, Farmer Barnard is no miser. His horses, dogs, and pigs, are the best kept in the parish-May herself, although her beauty be injured by her fatness, half envies the plight of his bitch Fly; his wife's gowns and shawls cost as much again as any shawls or gowns in the village; his dinner parties (to be sure they are not frequent) display twice the ordinary quantity of good things-two couples of ducks, two dishes of green peas, two turkey poults, two gammons of ba gle-horse chaise, and has built and endowed a Metho con, two plum-puddings; moreover, he keeps a sin dist chapel. Yet is he the richest man in these parts. Every thing prospers with him. Money drifts about him like snow. He looks like a rich man. There is moured obstinacy; a civil importance. He never a sturdy squareness of face and figure; a good huboasts of his wealth, or gives himself undue airs; but nobody can meet him at market or vestry without finding out immediately that he is the richest man there. They have no child to all this money; but there is an adopted nephew, a fine spirited lad, who may, perhaps, some day or other, play the part of a fountain to the reservoir.

Now turn up the wide road till we come to the open common, with its park-like trees, its beautiful stream, wandering and twisting along, and its rural bridge. Here we turn again, past that other white farm-house, half hidden by the magnificent elms which stand before it. Ah! riches dwell not there; but there is found the next best thing-an industrious and lighthearted poverty. Twenty years ago Rachel Hilton Her father, an old gamekeeper, had retired to a vilwas the prettiest and merriest lass in the country.. lage ale-house, where his good beer, his social humour, and his black-eyed daughter, brought much custom. She had lovers by the score; but Joseph White, the dashing and lively son of an opulent farmer, carried off the fair Rachel. They married and settled here, and here they live still, as merrily as ever, with fourteen children of all ages and sizes, from nineteen years to nineteen months, working harder than any people in the parish, and enjoying themselves more. I would match them for labour and laughter against any family in England. She is a blithe, jolly dame, whose beauty has amplified into comeliness: he is tall, and thin, and bony, with sinews like whipcord, a strong lively voice, a sharp weather-beaten face, and eyes and lips that smile and brighten, when he speaks, in a most

contagious hilarity. They are very poor, and I often wish them richer; but I don't know-perhaps it might put them out.

Quite close to Farmer White's is a little ruinous cottage, whitewashed once, and now in a sad state, where dangling stockings and shirts swelled by the wind, drying in a neglected garden, give signal of a washerwoman. There dwells, at present in single blessedness, Betty Adams, the wife of our sometime gardener. I never saw any one who so much reminded me, in person, of that lady whom every body knows, Mistress Meg Merrilies; as tall, as grizzled, as stately, as dark, as gipsy-looking, bonneted and gowned like her prototype, and almost as oracular. Here the resemblance ceases. fectly honest, industrious, pains-taking person, who Mrs Adams is a perearns a good deal of money by washing and charing, and spends it in other luxuries than tidiness-in green tea, and gin, and snuff. Her husband lives in a great family ten miles off. He is a capital gardener-or rather he would be so, if he were not too ambitious. He undertakes all things, and finishes none. But a of labour, carry him through. Let him but like his ale and his master, and he will do work enough for four. Give him his own way, and his full quantum, and nothing comes amiss to him.

turb them ? There they live in their innocent and
fragrant beauty, sheltered from the storms, and re-
joicing in the sunshine, and looking as if they could
feel their happiness. Who would disturb them? Oh,
how glad I am that I came this way home!" Our
Village."

A FORGOTTEN ENGLISH POET.

THE fastidious delicacy of the last century caused
much of the literature of the preceding one to be de-
spised and laid aside for its homeliness and rugged-
ness, without any regard to the fine simplicity, and
characterised. The more healthy taste of the present
wisdom, and wit, by which it was in many instances
age has, however, reversed many unjust sentences
thus passed upon old authors, and brought them once
more into something like public favour. Among those
who seem likely to regain a portion of their former

parliamentary letters, which have been preserved among the corporation records of Hull, are highly curious for the information which they give respecting both public and private matters. In addition to the legitimate stipend which he received for his attendance, and which he is said to have been one of the last to receive, his grateful constituents would sometimes send him a barrel of ale as a token of their regard. In reference to one of these gifts, which he received in conjunction with his colleague, honest Andrew is found writing as follows:-"We must give you thanks for the kind present you were pleased to send us, which will occasion us to remember you often; but the quantity is so great, that it might make them to their governor, the Duke of Monmouth :sober men forgetful." On another occasion, he relates the circumstances of his presenting an address from "The duke," says he, "returned on Saturday from Newmarket. To-day I waited on him, and first presented him with your letter, which he read all over very attentively; and then prayed me to assure you that he would upon all occasions be most ready to give and one of the wittiest, most generous, and most in- fairs you should recommend to him. I then delivered corruptible men of his time. Marvell was born at to him the six broad pieces, telling him I was deputed Kingston-upon-Hull, in the year 1620, being the son to blush on your behalf for the meanness of the preof a clergyman of the same name, whose death took sent; but he took me off, and said he thanked you for it, and accepted it as a token of your kindness. embarked on the Humber, in company with a youth-what to do with the gold; and but that I by all means ful pair, whom he was to marry at Barrow, in Lin- prevented the offer, I had been in danger to be reimcolnshire. Though the weather was calm when they bursed with it." entered the boat, the old gentleman expressed a whimsical presentiment of danger, by throwing his cane ashore, and crying out, "Ho for heaven!" A storm came on, and the whole company perished.

smooth tongue, a knowing look, and a great capacity reputation, is Andrew Marvell, the friend of Milton, you marks of his affection, and assist you in any af

eaps at the sight of the old place and so, in good place under remarkable circumstances. In 1640, he He had, before I came in, as I was told, considered Ah, May is bounding forward! Her silly heart

truth, does mine. What a pretty place it was-or
rather, how pretty I thought it! I suppose I should
have thought any place so where I had spent eighteen
happy years. But it was really pretty. A large,
heavy, white house, in the simplest style, surrounded
by fine oaks, and elms, and tall massy plantations,
shaded down into a beautiful lawn, by wild overgrown
shrubs, bowery acacias, ragged sweet-briars, promon-
tories of dog-wood, and Portugal laurel, and bays Young Marvell, after receiving the rudiments of
overhung by laburnum and bird-cherry; a long piece learning under his father, was sent to Trinity College,
of water letting light into the picture, and looking Cambridge; and while still a stripling, was inveigled
just like a natural stream, the banks as rude and wild to London by some Jesuits, from whose company and
as the shrubbery, interspersed with broom, and furze, tenets he was with difficulty regained. In consequence
and bramble, and pollard oaks covered with ivy and of the death of his father, the gentleman whose daughter
honeysuckle; the whole enclosed by an old mossy was to have been married at Barrow adopted the sub-
park paling, and terminating in a series of rich mea- ject of our memoir as his son, conceiving his father to
dows, richly planted. This is an exact description of have sacrificed his life in performing an act of friend.
the home which, three years ago, it nearly broke my ship. Marvell's education was thus enlarged. He
heart to leave. What a tearing up by the root it was! travelled for his improvement over a considerable part
I have pitied cabbage plants and celery, and all trans- of Europe, and in Italy is supposed to have met and
plantable things, ever since; though, in common with formed an acquaintance with Milton. Before this
them and with other vegetables, the first agony of the time he had begun to exercise his poetical talents.
transportation being over, I have taken such firm aud At Rome he wrote his satire of Flecnoe, which re-
tenacious hold of my new soil, that I would not for ferred to a priest and incorrigible poetaster of that
the world be pulled up again, even to be restored to name: it is chiefly remarkable as having originated
the old beloved ground; not even if its beauty were Dryden's superior and masterly satire of Mac Flec
undiminished, which is by no means the case; for in noe. At Paris, Marvell wrote another satire, holding
those three years it has thrice changed masters, and up to ridicule one Lancelot Joseph de Maniban, a
every successive possessor has brought the curse of whimsical abbot, who pretended to prognosticate the
improvement upon the place: so that between filling fortunes of people from the characters of their hand-
up the water to cure dampness, cutting down trees to writing. Of his residence and employment for many
let in prospects, planting to keep them out, shutting subsequent years, we have very little information.
up windows to darken the inside of the house (by which From a letter of his to Oliver Cromwell, dated in
means one end looks precisely as an eight of spades 1653, it appears that he was engaged by the Protector
would do that should have the misfortune to lose one to superintend the education of a Mr Dutton, who
of his corner pips), and building colonnades to lighten was attending school at Eton. This letter, in some
the out, added to a general clearance of pollards, and degree, unfolds Marvell's views on education; he
brambles, and ivy, and honeysuckles, and park pal-writes that his pupil was "of a gentle and waxen
ings, and irregular shrubs, the poor place is so trans- disposition," that he hath in him two things which
mogrified, that if it had its old looking-glass, the water, make youth most easy to be managed-modesty, which
back again, it would not know its own face. And is the bridle to vice, and emulation, which is the spur
yet I love to haunt round about it: so does May. to virtue." There is more wisdom in the simplicity
Her particular attraction is a certain broken bank full and tenderness of these sentences than meets the eye.
of rabbit burrows, into which she insinuates her long Marvell was, like Milton, a zealous patriot, but not
pliant head and neck, and tears her pretty feet by devoted, as that illustrious poet was, to republican
vain scratchings: mine is a warm sunny hedgerow, in principles. It was, therefore, with less sacrifice to
the same remote field, famous for early flowers. Never expediency, that, in 1657, he accepted employment
was a spot more variously flowery; primroses yellow, under the military government of Cromwell. The
lilac white, violets of either hue, cowslips, oxlips, place which he held under this usurper was that of
arums, orchises, wild hyacinths, ground ivy, pansies, assistant Latin secretary with Milton. In the en-
strawberries, heart's-ease, formed a small part of the suing year he was elected one of the members of Par-
Flora of that wild hedgerow. How profusely they liament for Hull, in which situation he gave so much
covered the sunny open slope under the weeping birch, satisfaction to his constituents that he was re-elected
"the lady of the woods," and how often have I started as long as he lived. His parliamentary career was
to see the early innocent brown snake, who loved the remarkable on many accounts, but chiefly for the bold
spot as well as I did, winding along the young blos- and vigorous appearance which it enabled him to make
goms, or rustling amongst the fallen leaves! There are against the unprincipled proceedings of the govern
primrose leaves already, and short green buds, but ment of Charles II. With assassination staring him
no flowers; not even in that furze cradle so full of in the face for this was one of the means taken by
roots, where they used to blow as in a basket. No, the courtiers of those days to silence patriotic members
my May, no rabbits! no primroses! We may as -he was the opponent of every unrighteous measure,
well get over the gate into the woody winding lane, and on all occasions the steady friend of those liberties
which will bring us home again.
which were so frequently emperilled during the seven-
teenth century. At the beginning of the reign, in-
deed, we find him absent for two years in Germany
and Holland; and on his return, having sought leave
from his constituents, he accompanied Lord Carlisle
as ambassador's secretary to the Northern Courts;
but, from the year 1665 till his death, his attend.
ance in the House of Commons was uninterrupted,
and exhibits a zeal in parliamentary duty that was
never surpassed. Constantly corresponding with
his constituents, he was at once earnest for their
public rights and for their local interests. After the
most fatiguing attendances, it was his practice to send
them a minute statement of public proceedings, be-
fore he took either sleep or refreshment. Though he
spoke rarely, his influence in both houses was so con-
siderable, that when Prince Rupert (who often con.
sulted him) voted on the popular side, it used to be
said that the prince had been with his tutor. His

Here we are making the best of our way between the old elms that arch so solemnly over head, dark and sheltered even now. They say that a spirit haunts this deep pool a white lady without a head. I cannot say that I have seen her, often as I have paced this lane at deep midnight, to hear the nightingales, and look at the glow-worms; but there, better and rarer than a thousand ghosts, dearer even than nightingales or glow-worms, there is a primrose, the first of the year; a tuft of primroses, springing in yonder sheltered nook, from the mossy roots of an old willow, and living again in the clear bright pool. Oh, how beautiful they are three fully blown and two bursting buds! how glad I am I came this way! They are not to be reached. Even Jack Rapley's love of the difficult and the unattainable would fail him here: May herself could not stand on that steep bank. So much the better. Who would wish to dis.

One of the most interesting circumstances in the life of Marvell is his friendship for Milton. When the blind poet was obliged, after the Restoration, to go into retirement, Marvell was conspicuous among those who made a party to screen him from the vengeance of the government, and who visited him most frequently in his affliction. It is considered not improbable that the mock funeral which was performed, in order to deceive his enemies into a belief in his death, and which is allowed to have apparently been the means of sparing the poet of Paradise Lost to give that great work to his country, was suggested by the humour of Andrew Marvell.'

The subject of our memoir was also acquainted with King Charles II., who appreciated him highly for his wit. Marvell, however, had no disposition for a court life, as he himself tells us in a beautiful imita tion of Seneca:

Climb at court for me that will,
Tottering favour's pinnacle;
All I seek is to lie still.
Settled in some secret nest,
In calm leisure let me rest;
And, far off the public stage,
Pass away my silent age.
Thus when without noise, unknown,
I have lived out all my span,

I shall die, without a groan,

An old honest countryman.
Who, exposed to other's eyes,
Into his own heart ne'er pries,

Death's to him a strange surprise.
One morning, after he had been familiarly enter-
tained the preceding evening by his majesty, the door
of his apartment, up two pair of stairs in a court in
the Strand, was opened by Lord-Treasurer Danby.
Marvell, who was writing at his table, was surprised,
and asked his lordship if he had not mistaken his way.
"No," replied the courtier, " now I have found Mr
Marvell;" and he proceeded to say that he was sent
from his majesty, to know in what manner he could
serve him. Marvell first jestingly replied that it was
not in the king's power to serve him; but when the
minister proceeded, with great seriousness, to speak
of his majesty's esteem and friendship for him, and
actually made him an offer of a thousand pounds,
with promises of future favours, the patriot with
equal seriousness assured the lord-treasurer that he
was not in want of the king's assistance, and humor.
ously illustrated his independence by calling his ser-
vant to witness that he had dined for three days
successively on a shoulder of mutton. It is said that,
after this rejection of the wages of dishonour, he went
to a friend and borrowed a guinea.

Marvell frequently employed his pen in writing in defence of the popular liberties, and lashing the mi nions of a despotic and dissolute court. His reply to a slavish pamphlet of Dr Samuel Parker not only refuted and silenced that writer, but survived in public approbation to receive the applause of Swift. His satirical prose is marked by a seriousness of surface, thinly icing over a mine of humour, which reminds us very much of the writings of the Dean of St Patrick's. And of this we shall present a specimen in a parody which he wrote upon the speeches of the King to his Parliament :—

"My Lords and Gentlemen,

I told you at our last meeting the winter was the fittest time for business, and truly I thought so, till my lord-treasurer assured me the spring was the best season for salads and subsidies. I hope, therefore, that April will not prove so unnatural a month as not to afford some kind showers on my parched exchequer, which gapes for want of them. Some of you, perhaps, will think it dangerous to make me too rich; but I do not fear it: for I promise you faithfully, whatever you give me, I will always want; and although in other things my word may be thought a

vex.

and it will be as much depressed, if its surface be conThe ascension or depression would become double, triple, &c. if the diameter of the tube became twice, thrice, &c. smaller.

The liquid is solicited, near the body which determines its curvature, by a force greater or less than that which acts on the plane surface situated at a greater distance; it must therefore rise or fall until the equilibrium be established.

If the surface be not spherical, its action on itself is composed of half the sum of the actions of the two spheres, which would have for the radii the greatest

and the smallest radius of curvature.

Example. Many bodies are perforated with holes or capillary tubes of different sizes, in which the liquid takes different curvatures, which determine its ascension or depression. It is thus that a piece of sugar rapidly imbibes the liquid which touches its sur. face. Sponge collects in its interstices the water with which it is brought into contact. the top of a heap of sand, and to the extremity of plants by their capillary vessels. It is also by the capillary action that oil rises in the wicks of lamps. By means of a wick, the oil which swims on water may be transferred from one vessel to another.

Water rises also to

If two parallel plates are immersed in a fluid, the liquid will rise between them half as high as in a tube which would have for its diameter the distance of the plates.

Observation. One of the two radii of curvature becoming infinite, the part of the attraction which relates to it is nothing. When the two plates are rectangular and form an angle, the liquid rises indefinitely to the top of the angle, and its curvature takes the form of a hyperbola.

A drop of liquid put into a conical tube, supported on an inclined plane, makes its way to the top. Observation. If the tube were cylindrical, the drop would remain in equilibrium. A drop of oil between two planes which form an angle, tends also to rise to the vertex of the angle.

Two plates placed freely in a liquid, tend always to approach each other at the top.

If two bodies easily wetted be made to float on a liquid, they will approach towards each other; and this will even take place, if the two bodies be not easily wetted.

If only one of the bodies be easily wetted, they will separate from each other.

Observation. The preceding results can be demonstrated only mathematically: they were established by the illustrious Laplace, and are perfectly conformable to the results of the experiments made by Hawksbée under the direction of Newton, and by Gay-Lussac."

MRS BATTLE'S OPINIONS ON WHIST.
[By Elia.]

"A CLEAR fire, a clean hearth, and the rigour of the
game." This was the celebrated wish of old Sarah
Battle (now with God), who, next to her devotions,
She was none of your
loved a good game at whist.
lukewarm gamesters, your half-and-half players, who
have no objection to take a hand, if you want one,
to make up a rubber; who affirm that they have no
pleasure in winning; that they like to win one game
and lose another; that they can while away an hour
very agreeably at a card-table, but are indifferent
whether they play or no; and will desire an adver-
sary, who has slipt a wrong card, to take it up and
play another. These insufferable triflers are the curse
of a table. One of these flies will spoil a whole pot.
Of such it may be said, that they do not play at cards,
but only play at playing at them.

Sarah Battle was none of that breed. She detested them, as I do, from her heart and soul, and would not,

save upon a striking emergency, willingly seat herself at the same table with them. She loved a thorough paced partner, a determined enemy. She took, and gave, no concessions. She hated favours. She never made a revoke, nor ever passed it over in her adverShe sary without exacting the utmost forfeiture. fought a good fight: cut and thrust. She held not her good sword (her cards) "like a dancer." She sate bolt upright; and neither showed you her cards, nor desired to see yours. All people have their blind side their superstitions; and I have heard her declare, under the rose, that hearts was her favourite suit.

I never in my life—and I knew Sarah Battle many of the best years of it-saw her take out her snuff box when it was her turn to play; or snuff a candle in the middle of a game; or ring for a servant till it was fairly over. She never introduced, or connived at, miscellaneous conversation during its process. As she emphatically observed, cards were cards: and if I ever saw unmingled distaste in her fine last-century countenance, it was at the airs of a young gen. tleman of a literary turn, who had been with difficulty persuaded to take a hand; and who, in his excess of candour, declared that he thought there was no harm in unbending the mind now and then, after serious studies, in recreations of that kind! She could not bear to have her noble occupation, to which she wound

up her faculties, considered in that light. It was her |
business, her duty, the thing she came into the world
to do and she did it. She unbent her mind after-
wards-over a book.

Pope was her favourite author: his Rape of the
Lock her favourite work. She once did me the favour
to play over with me (with the cards) his celebrated
game of Ombre in that poem; and to explain to me
how far it agreed with, and in what points it would
be found to differ from, tradrille. Her illustrations
were apposite and poignant; and I had the pleasure
of sending the substance of them to Mr Bowles: but
I suppose they came too late to be inserted among his
ingenious notes upon that author.

Florence :-this, and a trifle of five hundred pounds, came to me at her death.

The former bequest (which I do not least value) I have kept with religious care; though she herself, to confess a truth, was never greatly taken with crib. bage. It was an essentially vulgar game, I have heard her say-disputing with her uncle, who was very partial to it. She could never heartily bring her mouth to pronounce "go" or "that's a go." She called it an ungrammatical game. The pegging teased her. I once knew her to forfeit a rubber (a five dollar stake), because she would not take advantage of the turn-up knave, which would have given it her, but which she must have claimed by the disgraceful tenure of deQuadrille, she has often told me, was her first love; claring "two for his heels." There is something exbut whist had engaged her maturer esteem. The for-tremely genteel in this sort of self-denial. Sarah Battle was a gentlewoman born. mer, she said, was showy and specious, and likely to The uncertainty and quick allure young persons. shifting of partners a thing which the constancy of whist abhors; the dazzling supremacy and regal investiture of Spadille-absurd, as she justly observed, in the pure aristocracy of whist, where his crown and garter give him no proper power above his brother-nobility of the aces; the giddy vanity, so taking to the inexperienced, of playing alone; above all, the overpowering attractions of a Sans Prendre Vole-to the triumph of which there is certainly nothing parallel or approaching in the contingencies of whist; all these, she would say, make quadrille a game of captivation to the young and enthusiastic. But whist was the solider It was a long meal; not, game that was her word. like quadrille, a feast of snatches. One or two rubbers might co-extend in duration with an evening. They gave time to form rooted friendships, to cultivate steady enmities. She despised the chance-started, capricious, and ever fluctuating alliances of the other. The skirmishes of quadrille, she would say, reminded her of the petty ephemeral embroilments of the little Italian states, depicted by Machiavel-perpetually changing postures and connections-bitter foes to-day, sugared darlings to-morrow-kissing and scratching in a breath; but the wars of whist were comparable to the long, steady, deep-rooted, rational, antipathies of the great French and English nations. A grave simplicity was what she chiefly admired in her favourite game. There was nothing silly in it, like the nob in cribbage-nothing superfluous. No flushes-that most irrational of all pleas that a reasonable being can set up :-that any one should claim four by virtue of holding cards of the same mark and colour, without reference to the playing of the game, or the individual worth or pretensions of the cards themselves! She held this to be a solecism; as pitiful an ambition at cards as alliteration is in authorship. She despised superficiality, and looked deeper than the colours of things. Suits were soldiers, she would say, and must have a uniformity of array to distinguish them: but what should we say to a foolish squire, who should claim a merit from dressing up his tenantry in red jackets, that never were to be marshalled never to take the field? She even wished that whist were more simple than it is; and, in my mind, would have stript it of some appendages, which, in the state of human frailty, may be venially, and even commendably, allowed of. She saw no reason for the deciding of the trump by the turn of the card. Why not one suit always trumps? Why two colours, when the mark of the suits would have sufficiently distinguished them without it?

Piquet she held the best game at the cards for two persons, though she would ridicule the pedantry of the terms, such as pique, repique, the capot-they for two, or even three, she never greatly cared for. savoured, she thought, of affectation. But games She loved the quadrate, or square. She would argue thus:-Cards are warfare: the ends are gain, with glory. But cards are war, in disguise of a sport: are too palpable. By themselves, it is too close a when single adversaries encounter, the ends proposed looker-on can be interested, except for a bet, and then fight; with spectators, it is not much bettered. No it is a mere affair of money; he cares not for your luck sympathetically, or for your play. Three are still worse; a mere naked war of every man against every man, as in cribbage, without league or alliance; or a rotation of petty and contradictory interests, a succession of heartless leagues, and not much more hearty infractions of them, as in tradrille. But in square games (she meant whist) all that is possible to be attained in card-playing is accomplished. There are the incentives of profit with honour, common to every species-though the latter can be but very imperfectly enjoyed in those other games, where the They spectator is only feebly a participator. But the parties in whist are spectators and principals too. are a theatre to themselves, and a looker-on is not wanted. He is rather worse than nothing, and an impertinence. Whist abhors neutrality, or interests beyond its sphere. You glory in some surprising stroke of skill or fortune, not because a cold, or even an interested, bystander witnesses it, but because You your partner sympathises in the contingency. Two are exwin for two. You triumph for two. alted. Two again are mortified; which divides their disgrace, as the conjunction doubles (by taking off the invidiousness) your glories. Two losing to two are better reconciled, than one to one in that close butchery. The hostile feeling is weakened by multi. plying the channels. War becomes a civil game. By such reasonings as these the old lady was accustomed to defend her favourite pastime.

No inducement could ever prevail upon her to play at any game, where chance entered into the composi tion, for nothing. Chance, she would argue-and chance is nothing, but where something else depends here again, admire the subtlety of her conclusion: upon it. It is obvious, that cannot be glory. What rational cause of exultation could it give to a man to turn up size ace a hundred times together by himself? or before spectators, where no stake was depending ?-Make a lottery of a hundred thousand tickets with but one fortunate number-and what pos"But the eye, my dear madam, is agreeably refreshed with the variety. Man is not a creature of sible principle of our nature, except stupid wonderpure reason he must have his senses delightfully ap-ment, could it gratify to gain that number as many pealed to. We see it in Roman Catholic countries, times successively, without a prize?—Therefore she where the music and the paintings draw in many to disliked the mixture of chance in backgammon, where worship, whom your Quaker spirit of unsensualising it was not played for money. She called it foolish, would have kept out. You, yourself, have a pretty and those people idiots, who were taken with a lucky collection of paintings; but confess to me, whether, hit under such circumstances. Games of pure skill were as little to her fancy. Played for a stake, they walking in your gallery at Sandham, among those clear were a mere system of overreaching. Played for Vandykes, or among the Paul Potters in the anteroom, you ever felt your bosom glow with an elegant glory, they were a mere setting of one man's wit-his delight, at all comparable to that you have it in your memory, or combination-faculty rather against anpower to experience most evenings over a well-ar-other's; like a mock-engagement at a review, bloodranged assortment of the court cards? the pretty antic habits, like heralds in a procession-the gay triumph-assuring scarlets-the contrasting deadly. killing sabres-the 'hoary majesty of spades' Pam in all his glory!

"All these might be dispensed with; and, with their naked names upon the drab pasteboard, the game might go on very well, picture-less. But the beauty of cards would be extinguished for ever. Stripped of all that is imaginative in them, they must degenerate into mere gambling. Imagine a dull deal board, or drum head, to spread them on, instead of that nice verdant carpet (next to nature's), fittest arena for those courtly combatants to play their gallant jousts and turneys in! Exchange those delicately-turned ivory markers (work of Chinese artist, unconscious of their symbolor as profanely slighting their true application as the arrantest Ephesian journeyman that turned out those little shrines for the goddess)-exchange them for little bits of leather (our ancestor's money), or chalk and a slate !"

The old lady, with a smile, confessed the soundness of my logic; and to her approbation of my arguments on her favourite topic that evening, I have always fancied myself indebted for the legacy of a curious cribbage board, made of the finest Sienna marble, which her maternal uncle (old Walter Plumer, whom I have elsewhere celebrated) brought with him from

less and profitless. She could not conceive a game
wanting the spritely infusion of chance the hand-
some excuses of good fortune. Two people playing
at chess in a corner of a room, whilst whist was stir-
ring in the centre, would inspire her with insuffer-
Those well-cut similitudes of
able horror and ennui.
castles, and knights, the imagery of the board, she
would argue (and I think in this case justly), were
Those hard head-
entirely misplaced and senseless.
contests can in no instance ally with the fancy. They
A pencil and dry slate (she
reject form and colour.
used to say) were the proper arena for such combatants.
To those puny objectors against cards, as nurturing
the bad passions, she would retort, that man is a gam-
ing animal. He must be always trying to get the
better in something or other :-that this passion can
scarcely be more safely expended than upon a game at
cards; that cards are a temporary illusion; in truth,
a mere drama; for we do but play at being mightily
concerned, where a few idle shillings are at stake, yet,
during the illusion, we are as mightily concerned as
those whose stake is crowns and kingdoms. They are
a sort of dream-fighting; much ado; great battling,
and little bloodshed; mighty means for disproportioned
ends; quite as diverting, and a great deal more in-
noxious, than many of those more serious games of
life, which men play, without esteeming them to be
such.