This narration is succeeded by another, relating to the same parties, and equally singular in its detail; but its length compels us to reserve it for a future number.

Enteresting Varieties.

ENGLISH CIPHER.

66

THE following is the meaning of the Cipher. Inscription for the Inside of a Book," printed in our 21st number -

Reader, be thou grave or gay,

Peause me through, I pray, with care; My leaves deface not, that I may Be lent again to one as FAIR. Children and grease are both my dread, Return me then as soon as read.

To the gentlemen who favoured us with solutions we are extremely obliged, particularly to Sedeboy, Ingenuus, Albion, D. B., D. Abel, Tyro, and Woodbury.

The white-rob'd Bride I now be hold thee stand,

Within the sacred fane, where vows are giv❜n;

And plighted oaths are sworn ;-when heart and hand,

Tho' join'd by earthly ties, are register'd in Heav'n!

The smiling Mother next, I see thee

move,

With looks of tenderness, and steps of grace;

Around thee many a golden link of love, And many a laughing eye, and pleasure-beaming face.

But all these dreams may fade;-Death's with'ring hand,

That crops the flow'r, may blight thy op'ning bloom;

And pale disease, with all its ghastly band Of ills, may sweep thee hence, to an untimely tomb!

Now sinks the vision from hope's dream ing eye,

And all the web delusive fancy wove, At once dissolves before thy feeble cry, And little upraised hands, that ask a mother's love!

Whate'er thy lot may be, whether the way

Of life with flowers be strown-or thorns o'errun,

TRANS-ATLANTIC VARIETIES.

[WE have just been favoured, by our kind correspondent CLIO, with a large bundle of New-York newspapers, in which, among the innumerable advertisements with which the enterprising inhabitants of that commercial city crowd the columns, we have met with many interesting and amusing morsels of literature. A few of these we present to our readers.]

1. DRAMA.-The first tragedy performed in Boston was in 1750; the novelty made such a crowd and so much disturbance, that the legislature passed a law, prohibiting theatrical entertainments, as tending to unnecessary expense, the increase of impiety, and a contempt for religion.

ELEPHANTS-A gentleman from India assures us that he has seen elephants emploved to pile wood, which have, after adding heap to heap, drawn back, and placed themselves in a situation to see if they have kept a perpendicular line and preserved a just level in their work, and have then corrected any perceptible defect in one or the other. The same person has seen two elephants employed to roll barrels to a distance; one has kept them in motion, while the other has been prepared with a stone in his trunk to stop their progress at the required spot!

HENRY SLEEPER is a stage driver, well known to many of the citizens of Philadelphia and Germantown, who travel between those places. For

three and twenty years he has followed his present employment, most of which time he has been occupied in driving the Germantown stage; during this period he has passed over a space daily, including Sundays, of thirty miles-consequently he has rode two hundred and fifty-one thousand eight hundred and fifty miles, equal to going ten times

DEGENERACY. In a party of ladies, the coversation turned upon the fact, that females have many admirers, but few or no lovers.: “Ah!" said a venerable old lady, who sat by, lamenting the degeneracy of times, “Courting is nothing now to what it was when I was young."

ECCENTRIC NOTICE. A paper of October 22, contains the subjoined hit at the filthy, state of the streets, to which the corruption of the air and the consequent rapid spread of the late contagion, were attributed. The Americans in this, as well as in many other matters, might advantageously take pattern from the English:

"Any person in want of a DEAD PIG may find one that will probably answer his purpose in the middle of Broadway, between Broome and Spring-streets. Applicants need not be in any great haste, as it is expected he will lie there several days; and if the warm weather should last, and the carriages will let him alone, he will grow bigger and bigger."

(Resumed at page 196.)

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

RECEIVED.-J. T. Woodhury, Felix, J. B., Simon, G. S. Willmer, and A Voice from a Nutshell. E. S. C. is not forgotten. Sedeboy's Eulogy has been Grave" shall appear. T. Hardy's letter forwarded to its object. "The Stranger's is left, under cover for Abbastanza, at the printer's. A second Edition of No. 6 will be ready in a few days. Nos. 1, 2, 5, and 10 have been reprinted.

In the black annals of crime and cruelty there occur few details of perfidy and deliberate villainy more extraordinary than the narrative of Mr. Penny's murder, at Clement's Inn, by his domestic, James Hall.

Hall, who was the son of a farmer in Hampshire, after passing his boyish days in the occupations of husbandry, repaired to London, where he lived for several years with a corn dealer, during which time his conduct was unexceptionable. On quitting this situation, he entered the service of Mr. Penny, a gentleman residing in chambers in Clement's Inn, of which he was what is termed the Principal. With him he lived seven years, and was highly esteemed by his master, who always treated him with great indulgence, and frequently presented him with sums of money beyond the actual amount of his wages.

In this service Hall remained seven years. At first he was extremely re

gular in his deportment, but unluckily contracting some loose acquaintance, he became involved in debt, and other respects greatly embarrassed in his affairs, having, it is said, married Two women, in different quarters of the town, and living in daily dread of a discovery. Under these circumstances, he formed the determination to murder and plunder his master, and quit England; and although several times when he had determined to effect his purpose his resolution failed him, he at length completed the barbarous deed on the 7th June, 1741.

Mr. Penny, who had been spending the evening with a friend, returned to his chambers about eleven at night; and Hall having, as was his custom, pulled off his coat, waistcoat, shoes, and stockings, the old gentleman was about to step into bed, when Hall knocked him down with a large bludgeon, which he had provided for the purpose. He repeated the blow seve

ral times, but his master, who had been stunned by the first stroke, neither sighed nor groaned, but remained in a state of insensibility.

This part of the tragedy being completed, Hall went into the dining-parfour, and completely divested himself of his apparel; after which he returned to the bed-room, and holding Mr. Penny's head over a chamber-pot, he cut his throat with a small clasp-knife, The blood that flowed from the wound he mingled with water, and poured down the sink; then, taking the body on his shoulders, he carried it, unobserved, to the privy of the inn, into which he threw it head foremost: but so bewildered were his ideas, that on his return to the chambers, as he afterwards declared, the whole iun ap peared to be on fire.

His next care was to search his master's bureau, from which he took sixand-thirty guineas, and with this sum he determined to fly the country; but after wandering from place to place the whole of the following day, he returned in the evening to the inn, fancying that as the body was in so secret a place, his crime would never be discovered; and in the morning sent word to a Mr. Wooton, Mr Penny's nephew, that his master had been two days from home, and he was therefore afraid some mischief had befallen him. Mr. Wooton, of course, was very particular in his enquiries upon the subject, but Hall gave him so many evasive answers, and betrayed so much confusion, that his suspicions were aroused, and he had him arrested; but, when brought before a magistrate, he denied all knowledge of his master's disappearance. He however, committed to Newgate, for trial, where he formed an ingenious plan for escaping, but his attempt being frustrated, he confessed his guilt, and at the next Old Bailey Sessions received sentence of death.

was,

He was executed at the bottom of Catherine Street in the Strand, September 15, 1741; and afterward's hung in chains at Shepherd's Bush, on the road to Acton.

ANCIENT PUNISHMENTS. Oun old chronicles afford many inte resting and affecting particulars, which modern history excludes from its slatements, as little consonant with the dignity of historical composition. Without admitting or questioning the propriety, on the whole, of this exclusion, we would observe, that it deprives history of much of its picturesque effect, and suppresses many of the peculiar characteristics of former ages. following account of the execution of some of the adherents of the unfortunate Richard II., we are led to lament that, though abrogated in practice, the legal license of such barbarities is still suffered to exist in our Statute Books. The particulars are extracted from MSS. in the King of France's library, examined and abridged by M. Gaillard and others.

In the

"Richard II. was assassinated on Twelfth-Day in the year 1400. Various punishments were inflicted on such of his friends as were taken either in battle or in flight. Sir Thomas Blount, and one Bennet Selly, his companion, were drawn from Oxford (above three miles) to the place of execution, where they were hanged; but the ropes were soon cut, and these gentlemen were made to talk, and sit on a bench before a great fire, and the executioner came with a razor in his hand, and knelt down before Sir Thomas Blount, whose hands were tied, begging him to pardon him his death, as he must do his office. Then Sir Thomas asked him, 'Are you the person appointed to deliver me from this world?' The executioner answeredYes,' saying, Sir, I pray you pardon me,' and Sir Thomas kissed him, and forgave him his death, The executioner knelt down, and Sir Thomas made himself ready and then the executioner opened his belly, and cut out his bowels strait from below his stomach, and tied them with a string, that the wind of the heart should not escape, and threw the bowels into the fire. Then Sir Thomas Blount was sitting before the fire, his belly open, and saw his bowels burning before him. Sir Thomas D'Ar