THE subject of the above cut is taken from the late Mr. C. Dibdin's painting of Coalbrook Dale, which he sketched while on his Tour in England, one evening, amidst furnaces, and other tremendous objects, emitting fire and smoke. We consider it not much inferior to many foreign wonders of Nature. 66 There are," says Mr. Dibdin, mines of copper, lead, and iron, Shropshire, and many coal pits, one of which was discovered, not long ago, to contain a stratum of a bituminous quality, and indeed is the very place where it is well known tar was extracted from coal. I went in company with a gentleman into the mouth of a bricked arch-way, which reached three-hundred yards; and when we had got about thirty yards, we began to see the tar ooze from the crannies in the rock. It must be understood that from the top of the rock a pit had been sunk, which went to such an immense depth that it would have been very expensive, and indeedalmost impracticable, to work it. Find ing, however, the coals of an admirable quality, it was thought worth while to form the arch-way above described at the foot of the mountain, and as near as possible to the Severn, that the coal. might be drawn out in carriages, which mode of getting at them, instead of the usual way, it was thought would be so much more expeditious and convenient, as to make a saving, in a short time, equal to the expence of having formed the arch-way. In the prosecution of this scheme, the tar unex-. pectedly made its appearance, at first oozing as we had seen it, and afterwards pouring forth in a large body, which fairly flowed into the Severn, The discovery was made known, and the course of the tar as soon as possible diverted by means of iron pipes, which were, as far as my recollection guides me, nearly as large as those which convey the water from the New River T in London. Large pits were immediately dug, and immense cauldrons sunk. In these the tar was boiled, and became pitch. When I saw the place, there were three springs, one of which emitted an astonishing quantity. The first was at that time nearly dried up, and this induced the workmen to believe that the whole would one day cease, which perhaps has been the case. The tar was about the consistence of treacle, and beautifully pellucid. I have no doubt but it is the dregs of this very tar which at the distance of seven miles they extract from the coal. It is very extraordinary that at Wolverhampton they did not at that time believe this fact, and I take the reason to be that the tar was privately contracted for. I knew a chemist at Sheffield who sold an estate to purchase large quantities of it. He assured me it had the strongest similitude of any thing he ever saw or read of, to the famous black pitch used by the Egyptians for embalming. It was remarkably free from impurity, it was as bituminous as asphaltum, and had an agreeable odour not unlike benjamin. JANE SHORE. BEFORE Paul's Cross, in 1483, was brought, divested of all her splendour, Jane Shore, the charitable, the merry concubine of Edward IV. and, after his death, of his favourite, the unfortunate Lord Hastings. After the loss of her protectors, she fell a victim to the malice of crook-backed Richard. He was disappointed (by her excellent defence) of convicting her of witchcraft, and confederating with her lover to destroy him. He then attacked her on the weak side of fraility. This was undeniable. He consigned her to the severity of the church: she was carried to the bishop's palace, cloathed in a white sheet, with a taper in her hand, and from thence conducted to the cathedral, and the cross, before which she made a confession of her only fault Every other virtue bloomed in this ill-fated fair with the fullest vigour. She could not resist the solicitations of a youthful monarch, the handsomest man of his time.-On his death she was reduced to necessity, scorned by the world, and cast off by her husband, with whom she was paired in her childish years, and forced to fling herself in the arms of Hastings. "In her penance she went," says Holingshed, "in countenance and pase demure, so womanlie, that, albeit she were out of all araie, save her kirtle oulie, yet went she so faire and lovelie, while the woondering of the people cast a comelie rud in her cheeks (of whiche she before had most misse), that hir great shame wan her much praise among those that were more amorous of hir bodie than curious of hir soule. that hated hir living (and glad were to And manie good folkes see sin corrected), yet pitied they more hir penance than rejoiced therein, when they considered that the Protec tor procured it more of a corrupt intent, than anie virtuous affection." Rowe, in his tragedy, has adopted the fable of her being denied all sus tenance, and of her perishing with hunger; but that was not the fact. She lived to a great age, but in great distress and miserable poverty; deserted even by those to whom she had, during prosperity, done the most essential services She dragged a wretched life, even to the time of Sir Thomas More, who introduces her stony in his life of Edward V. The beauty of her person is spoken of in high terms. Proper she was, and faire: nothing in hir bodie that you would have changed; but you would have wished hir somewhat higher. Thus saie they that knew hir in hir youth.Now is she old, leane, withered, and dried up; nothing left but rivelled skin and hard bone; and yet, being even such, whoso well advise her visage, might gesse and devise which parts how filled would make it a faire face." J. S. PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. Julian Peveril had spent at Martindale, Castle a good deal of the time which his friend had bestowed in London; and at the period to which, passing over many years, our story has arrived, as it were, per saltum, they were both living as the Countess's guests, in the Castle of Rushin, in the venerable kingdom of Man. The Isle of Man, in the midst of the seventeenth century, was something very different, as a place of residence, from what it is now. Men had not discovered its merit, as a place of Occasional refuge from the storms of life, and the society to be there met with was of a very uniform tenor, There were no smart fellows, whom fortune had tumbled from the seat of their barouches-no plucked pigeons, or winged rooks-no disappointed speculators-no ruined miners-in short, no one worth talking to. It was here, however, at a place where a Danish or Norwegian fastness once stood, called the Black Fort, that Julian Peveril, in defiance of repeated warnings and prohibitions, frequently sought the company of Alice Bridgenorth, who dwelt in this secluded spot, by her father's command, ander the care of her respectable gouvernante Mistress Deborah. When Alice entered the parlour where her anxious lover had long expected her, it was with a slow step, and a composed manner. Her dress was arranged with an accurate attention to form, which at once enhanced the appearance of its puritanic simplicity, and struck Julian as a bad omen; for though the time bestowed upon the toilette may, in many cases, intimate the wish to appear advantageously at such an interview, yet a ceremonious arrangement of attire is very much allied with formality, and a preconceived determination to treat a lover with cold politeness. The sad-coloured gown-the pinched and plaited cap, which carefully obscured the profusion of long darkbrown hair the small ruff, and the long sleeves, would have appeared to great disadvantage on a shape less graceful than Alice Bridgenorth's; but an exquisite form, though not, as yet, sufficiently rounded in the outlines to produce the perfection of female beauty, was able to sustain and give grace even to this unbecoming dress. Her countenance, fair and delicate, baster, had, notwithstanding, less regular beauty than her form, and might have been justly subjected to criticism. His heart beat high as she came into the apartment, and it was almost without an attempt to speak that his profound obeisance acknowledged her entrance. "This is a mockery master Pever il," said Alice, with an effort to speak firmly, which yet was disconcerted by a slight tremulous inflection of voice"a mockery, and a cruel one. You come to this lone place, inhabited only by two women, too simple to command your absence-too weak to enforce it-vou come, in spite of my earnest request to the neglect of your own time-to the prejudice, I may fear, of my character-you abuse the influence you possess over the simple person to whom I am intrusted.-All this you do, and think to make it up by low reverences, and constrained courtesy! Is this honourable, or is it fair? Is it," she added, after a moment's hesitation," is it kind ?" The tremulous accent fell especially on the last word she uttered, and it was spoken in a low tone of gentle reproach, which went to Julian's heart, "If," said he, there was a mode by which, at the peril of my life, Alice, I could shew my regard-my respect-my devoted tenderness-the danger would be dearer to me than ever was pleasure." 19 "You have said such things often, said Alice," and they are such as I ought not to hear, and do not desire to hear. I have no tasks to impose on you-no enemies to be destroyedno need or desire of protection-no wish, Heaven knows, to expose you to danger-.It is your visits here alone to which danger attaches. You have but to rule your own wilful temper to turn your thoughts and your cares elsewhere, and I can have nothing to ask-nothing to wish for. Let me, once more, in fair terms, entreat you to absent yourself from this placetill-till(Continued on page 154.) NEGRO FRENZY. with eyes of hazel, and a brow of ala- THE following statement appeared in the newspapers and magazines, in the month of February, 1759:-"A very tragical affair happened some time ago at St. Eustatia. A negro, who was at work in a ship in the harbour, having had some words with a white person, in his passion stabbed him; upon which another negro told him, that he would certainly be put to death; and that if he had killed twenty, they could do no more to him. Thereupon, the fellow, in a fit of desperation, immediately jumped overboard, and swam to shore, with a knife in his hand; and the first person he met with happened to be an English sailor, whom the villain instantly cut across the belly, so that his bowels appeared. This done, he in a moment ran into a woollen draper's shop, and stabbed a young fellow sitting behind the counter; he then ran into the street, and wounded desperately one or two others. By this time, the people were greatly alarmed; but the knife the fellow had being very large, and he so desperate, every body shunned him. The governor offered a reward to any who would take him alive, and a sailor un-, dertook it, armed with a musket; but, if he found it impractible, he was to shoot him. The negro, who was then at the wharf side, alone, saw hin coming, and met him with great resolution; he made an essay to stab the sailor, by giving a sudden leap upon him, but the tar avoided it, and struck at him with the butt end of his musket, and broke his arm; upon which, with great intrepidity, he got his knife into his other hand, and made another push at the sailor, but with as little success as the former; and by another blow, he was, with the assistance of some other persons who had gathered about him, secured alive. He was immediately brought to trial, and condemned; and next day hung upon a gibbet, in irons, alive, where he continued in the greatest agonies, and shrieking in the most terrible manner, for near three days. His greatest cry was, "Water! water! water!" being extreme hot weather, and the sun full upon him.” REMARKABLE JUDGMENT. A TURKISH merchant had lost his purse, which contained two hundred pieces of gold. He applied to a pub. lic crier, whom he ordered to declare, that he would give the half of the sum to the finder. It fell into the hands of a sailor, who chose rather a lawful gain, by accepting the proposed reward, than to make himself guilty of theft; for, by an article of the Alcoran, he who detains a thing lost, and cried publicly, is declared a thief. He, therefore, confessed to the crier that he had found the purse, and he offered to restore it, on receiving the half of what it contained. The merchant appeared immediately, and, though exceedingly glad to find his money, he would fain disengage himself from his promise; but, not being able so to do, without some specious pretext, he had recourse to a lie With the two hundred pieces of gold he pretended there was in the purse a precious emerald, which he immedi ately asked the sailor for. The sailor took Heaven and the Prophet to witness that he had found no emerald; notwithstanding, he was brought be fore the Cadi, and accused of theft. Whether through injustice, or neglect of weighing the matter thoroughly, the judge discharged indeed the sailor from the crime of theft, but, repri manding him for having lost through his fault a precious jewel, and obliged him to return the two hundred pieces of gold to the merchant, without re-. ceiving any reward. So hard a sen tence, ruining all at once the hopes and the honour of the poor sailor, induced him to complain of it to the Vi zir, who judged it deserving of his attention. All the parties were sunmoned before him. After having heard the merchant, he asked the crier. what he was ordered to publish. The crier having declared ingenuously that no mention was made to him of any thing but the two hundred pieces of gold, the merchant pleaded, that, if he had not named the emerald, it was from thinking that if the purse had fallen into the hands of some person who knew not the value of the jewel, he would only be induced to think of keeping it, by learning that it bore a great price. On the other hand, the sailor made oath, that he had found only in the purse the two hundred pieces of gold. The Vizir, at last, pronounced this sentence: "Forasmuch as the merchant has lost an emerald with two hundred pieces of gold, and the sailor swears that in the purse which he found there was no emerald, it is manifest that the purse and the gold which the sailor found are not what the merchant has lost. It must be another that has lost the purse and gold. Let the merchant, therefore, continue to have his gold and his emerald cried, till they are restored to him by some one who has the fear of God. As to the sailor, let him keep for forty days the gold he found, and if the loser does not present himself during that term, he may enjoy it as bis just right." Enteresting Varieties. BUONAPARTE Had several attempts made upon his life one of them, which took place soon after he was chosen Chief Consul, was attended with the following curious circumstances:-A leader of the Jacobin faction had succeeded in procuring to be made a snuff-box perfectly similar to that used by the Chief Consul, but, though the fashion of it was imitated most correctly, the artificer had not succeeded in making it open with equal facility. Buona parte finding this box upon his table, and being inclined to take a pinch of snuff, was astonished to find a considerable difficulty in opening it. This circumstance struck him so much, that the similarity of the box, in other respects, had no effect in deceiving him. After a number of vain enquiries among his servants, he sent for a physician, who having chemically analyz ed the snuff in the box, declared, that the Chief Consul, had he taken any, would not have survived half an hour. SUPERSTITION. There is a vulgar custom, which has long prevailed among the ignorant part of the community, particularly in Scotland, where superstition may, even now, be considered in its meri dian, of sowing hemp-seed on HallowEve; and many of our readers may remember that this custom has more than once been attended with fatal effects. Some years since, a servant girl belonging to Mr. Matthewson, typefounder, of Edinburgh, resolved to follow this absurd practice, and notwithstanding the remonstrances of her master, went into the foundry at ten at night with a candle, which she placed on the table whilst she performed her incantations. After walking through the shop several times, and not seeing any thing, she took up her seed, and sowed it a second time, when a tall, meagre figure presented itself to her imagination. She returned, and after relating what she had seen, went to bed, placing the Bible under her head. In the morning she was seized with a stupor, originating from the deceptions of her imagination, and shortly after expired. Burns, in his "Hallow-een," has an amusing passage relating to the ceremony of sowing hemp-seed, the mode of performing which is thus de scribed in a note on the poem : "Steal out of the house unperceiv ed, and sow a handful of hemp-seed, harrowing it with any thing you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat now and then, Hemp-seed, I sow thee! hemp-seed, I sow thee! and he (or her) that is to be my true-love, come after me, and pou (pull) thee!' Then look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp." DUELLING. A QUARREL arising between a celebrated gentleman in the literary world, and one of his acquaintance, the latter heroically, and no less laconically, concluded a letter to the first, on the subject of their dispute, with, "I have a life at your service, if you dare to take it." To which the former replied, ending his epistle thus: "You say you have a life at my service, if I dare to take it; I must confess to you that I dare not take it; I thank my God, I have not the courage to take it. But though I own that I am afraid to |