THAT'S THE MAN."

Yes-there lay the man, or, at least, all that remained of the once mighty preacher. For all I knew, the heap of dirt, the skull, and the loose bones, might have been any one else's. But a strange awe came over me at his words, "That's the man."

I took the skull in my hands and examined it narrowly. The forehead was rather narrow than broad-by no means high. I soon put it back again to the coffin, for I bethought me of Shakspeare's malediction, and felt as if I had committed sacrilege by touching the precious relics. It is said that one of the arm bones was stolen, and is in England. Philip, in his "Life and Times," refers to this with just indignation. For my own part, did I know the possessor of it, I would print his name, for the purpose of shaming him into resto

ration.

With an anecdote of Whitefield, which, I believe, is not generally known in England, I conclude this article.

"In the last visit but one which White field paid to America, he spent a day or two at Princeton, under the roof of the rev. Dr. Finley, then president of the col lege at that place At dinner, the doctor said, Mr. Whitefield, I hope it will be very long before you will be called home, but when that event shall arrive, I should be glad to hear the noble testimony you will bear for God.' You would be disappointed, doctor,' said Whitefield, 'I shall die silent. It has pleased God to enable me to bear so many testimonies for him during my life, that he will require none from me when I die. No, no. It is your dumb christians, that have walked in fear and darkness, and thereby been unable to bear a testimony for God during their lives, that he compels to speak out for him on their death-beds.""

This anecdote was related a few months ago to a gentleman of New York, by an individual now living, who was then a student in the college, and a boarder in Dr. Finley's family. The manner of Whitefield's death fulfilled his prediction.-Abridged from the Sun.

see a specimen of your workmanship in a sow and pigs." The man returned in a few days, having performed his part with such exquisite skill, that he was immediately employed, and, in fine, executed some of the most difficult parts in the cathedral.

Female Topers.-Towards the decline of the Roman commonwealth, and under the first emperors, the women were not only accustomed to drink wine, but carried the excess of it as far as the men, which if we credit Pliny, exceeded any thing of the kind in modern times. To prevent females from committing excessive crimes, the lawgivers in ancient times prohibited the free use of wines. Seneca complains bitterly, that, in his day, the custom of prohibition was almost universally violated. The weak and delicate complexion of the women, says he, is not changed, but their manners are changed, and no longer the same. They value themselves upon carrying excess of wine to as great a height as the most robust men; like them they pass whole nights at table, and, with a full glass of unmixed wine in their hands, they glory in vieing with them, and, if they can, in overcoming them.-Morewood on Inebriating Liquors.

Sound and Light.-According to Sir John Herschel, thunder can scarcely be heard more than twenty or thirty miles from the flash, but lightning may be seen at a distance of 200 miles.

Arm-chairs." The chair of the good king Dagobert is, perhaps, the oldest and most curious article of furniture of the christian era. In form, it resembles the curule chair of the Romans. The legs are more ancient, and of better workmanship, than the upper part; but tradition assigns its fabrication to the holy hands of St. Eloi. It was preserved for centuries in the treasury of the abbey of St. Denis, and was regilt in the time of the abbot Suger. In August, 1804, it was transported to Boulogne, for the distribution of the crosses of the Legion of Honour; and a medal, struck on that occasion, represents the modern Charlemagne, seated in this relic of le bon roi Dagob It now takes its place. with other antiquities, in La Bibliotheque du Roi, at Paris. The two most interesting arm-chairs in existence, are the Shakspeare chair, late in the possession of Mrs. Garrick, and Voltaire's chair, which stood beside the fire-place in the Hotel de Vilette, Rue Vaugirard, when

last saw it, in 1820. The inauguration chairs of the O'Neals, the O'Donnels, and the O'Briens would form long items of antiquarian research in the chapter of armchairs, too long probably for the patience of the general reader."

H.A. Burstall, Printer, 2, Tavistock-street, Stald

THE THAMES NEAR TEDDINGTON LOCK.

To the fair scene represented in the accompanying cut the disciples of Isaak Walton love to resort. The open country, the transparent water, and above all the size and number of the finny inhabitants of that part of the river, give it no common interest to them. Notwithstanding the_ridicule of Johnson, and the hostility of Byron, the fisherman from season to season pursues his sport with unabated ardour, and no where can he enjoy a purer air, or pass through lovelier scenes going and coming from London, than he finds in the vicinity of Teddington.

And where can he hope for a locality more rich in the recollections of the learned, the witty, and the wise. Here, withdrawing from the stormy scenes of their day, the master spirits of the last and preceding centuries loved to retire to meditate on the past, and prepare for the future. Volumes might be written in connection with the great names identified with various favoured spots in the vicinity of Teddington and Twickenham.

It is however only of late years that they have been accessible to the million. The time and expense which formerly attended journeying a dozen miles up the river, caused visitors to be few, comparatively, but now by steam the distance is shortened, and the cost brought so low, that economy itself can hardly decline the excursion. In another year or two still greater facilities will be enjoyed. Railways have been planned through Surrey, which will convey the sportsman or the valetudinarian from the smoky scene of business to Teddington or Hampton Court in half an hour. Already the note of preparation is heard. Building is the order of the day in the neighbourhood. Twickenham New Park is likely to be shortly covered with splendid villas, as an eminent builder has taken the ground from its late proprietor. All around will speedily be changed, though Teddington Lock may remain to the delight of the angler the same as heretofore.

MR. DICKENS AND HIS NEW
WORK.

As a part of the enjoyment looked for at Christmas, a new work from the pen of Mr. Dickens is now as regularly expected as a pantomime, and his appearance on the publishing stage is hailed with as much delight as that of Grumoldi used to be on the boards of the theatre. "The Cricket on the hearth-a fairy tale"-is the name of his new production, and it ts replete with

ge

benevolence and pleasantry, and in its neral arrangement and scope very superior to his last year's effort.

It is a tale of humble life, and opens with a quarrel or concert between a cricket and the tea kettle, or in his own words:"It appeared as if there were a sort of match, or trial of skill, you must understand, between the kettle and the cricket. And this is what led to it, and how it came about. Mrs. Peerybingle going out into the raw twilight, and clicking over the wet stones in a pair of pattens that worked innumerable rough impressions of the first proposition in Euclid all about the yardMrs. Peerybingle filled the kettle at the water butt. Presently returning, less the pattens: and a good deal less, for they were tall and Mrs. Peerybingle was but short: she set the kettle on the fire. In doing which she lost her temper, or mislaid it for an instant; for the water-being uncomfortably cold, and in that slippery, slushy, sleety sort of state wherein it seems to pe netrate through every kind of substance, patten rings included-had laid hold of Mrs. Peerybingle's toes, and even splashed her legs. And when we rather plume ourselves (with reason too) upon our legs, and keep ourselves particularly neat in point of stockings, we find this, for the moment, hard to bear. Besides, the kettle was aggravating and obstinate. It wouldn't allow itself to be adjusted to the top bar; it wouldn't hear of accommodating itself kindly to the knobs of coal: it would lean forward with a drunken air, and dribble, a very idiot of a kettle, on the hearth. was quarrelseme; and hissed and hissed and spluttered morosely at the fire. sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle's fingers, first of all turned topsyturvy, and then, with an ingenious pertinacity deserving of a better cause, dived sideways in-down to the very bottom of the kettle. And the hull of the Royal George has never made half the monstrous resistance to coming out of the water, which the lid of that kettle employed against Mrs. Peerybingle, before she got it up again. It looked sullen and pigheaded enough, even then; carrying its handle with an air of defiance, and cocking its spout pertly and mockingly at Mrs. Peerybingle, as if it said, 'I won't boil. Nothing shall induce me!' But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour, dusted her chubby little hands against each other, and sat down before the kettle: laugh ng Meantime, the jolly blaze uprose and tel, flashing and gleaming on the little haymaker at the top of the Dutch clock, until one might have thought he stood stock still before the Moorish palace, and nothing was in motion but the flame. He was on the move, however; and had his spasms,

It

To

two to the second, all right and regular. But his sufferings when the clock was going to strike, were frightful to behold; and when a cuckoo looked out of a trap-door in the palace, and gave note six times, it shook him, each time, like a spectral voice-or like a something wiry, plucking at his legs.

Subsequently, however, we find things improve, and we read:

"Now it was, that the kettle, growing mellow and musical, began to have irrepressible gurglings in its throat, and to indulge in short vocal snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it hadn't quite made up its mind yet, to be good company. Now it was, that after two or three such vain attempts to stifle its convivial sentiments, it threw off all moroseness, all reserve, and burst into a stream of song so cosy and hilarious, as never maudlin nightingale yet formed the least idea of. So plain, too! Bless you, you might have understood it like a book-better than some books you and I could name, perhaps. With its warm breath gushing forth in a light cloud which merrily and gracefully ascended a few feet, then hung about the chimney-corner as its own domestic Heaven, it trolled its song with that strong energy of cheerfulness, that its iron body hummed and stirred upon the fire; and the lid itself, the recently rebellious lid-such is the influence of a bright example-per. formed a sort of jig, and clattered like a deaf and dumb young cymbal that had never known the use of its twin brother. That this song of the kettle's was a song of invitation and welcome to somebody out of doors; to somebody at that moment coming on, towards the snug small home and the crisp fire; there is no doubt whatever. Mrs. Peerybingle knew it, perfectly, as she sat musing, before the hearth. It's a dark night, sang the kettle, and the rotten leaves are lying by the way; and above, all is mist and darkness, and below, all is mire and clay; and there's only one relief in all the sad and murky air; and I don't know that it is one, for it is nothing but a glare of deep and angry crimson, where the sun and wind together, set a brand upon the clouds for being guilty of such weather; and the widest open country is a long dull streak of black; and there's hoarfrost on the finger post, and thaw upon the track; and the ice it isn't water, and the water is'nt free; and you couldn't say that anything is what it ought to be; but he's coming, coming, coming!- -And here, if you like the Cricket DID chime in with a chirrup, chirrup, chirrup, of such magnitude, by way of chorus; with a voice so astoundingly disproportionate to its size, as compared with the kettle; (size! you couldn't see it!) that if it had then and

there burst itself like an overcharged gun: if it had fallen a victim on the spot, and chirruped its little body into fifty pieces: it would have seemed a natural and inevitable consequence, for which it had expressly laboured. The kettle had had the last of its solo performance. It persevered with undiminished ardour; but the cricket took first fiddle and kept it. Good Heaven, how it chirped! Its shrill, sharp, piercing voice resounded through the house, and seemed to twinkle in the outer darkness like a star. There was an indescribable little trill and tremble in it, at its loudest, which suggested its being carried off its legs, and made to leap again, by its own intense enthusiasm. Yet they went very well together, the cricket and the kettle. The burden of the song was still the same; and louder, louder, louder still, they sang it in their emulation."

But still the performers proceed, like the shepherds in the Bucobes of Virgil, with their tuneful strife. The author says it had all the excitement of a race about it; we suppose he meant of a boxing match, for thus he proceeds to describe it:

"Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum-m-m! Kettle making play in the distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum-mm! Kettle sticking to him in his own way; no idea of giving in. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket fresher than ever. Hum, hum, hum-m-m! Kettle slow and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket going in to finish him. "Hum, hum, hum-m-m! Kettle not to be finished. Until at last, they got so jumbled together, in the hurryskurry, helter-skelter, of the match, that whether the kettle chirped and the cricket hummed, or the cricket chirped and the kettle hummed, or they both chirped and both hummed, it would have taken a clearer head than your's or mine to have decided with anything like certainty. But of this, there is no doubt that the kettle and cricket, at one and the same moment, and by some power of amalgamation best known to themselves, sent, each, his fireside song of comfort streaming into a ray of the candle that shone out through the window; and a long way down the lane. And this light, bursting on a certain person who, on the instant approached towards it through the gloom, expressed the whole thing to him, literally in a twinkling, and cried, Welcome home, old fellow! Welcome home, my boy!"

And thus we are introduced to a series of humble but very amusing characters; a carrier and his wife; a toy maker and a toy merchant; a blind girl; a girl who and a deaf old man, who turns out to be a young beau. Some unto

can see;

ward or suspicious circumstances wake the flame of jealousy in the carrier's breast against this personage. His wife being much younger than himself, he supposes the stranger to have improper views on her, and dreadful thoughts pass through his mind; but eventually all is well, and the "chirrup of the cricket" leads to marriage instead of murder.

THE SMUGGLER OF FOLKSTONE. A TALE OF TRUTH AND FICTION.

--

BY EDWARD PORTWINE.

CHAPTER XIII.

If Margaret Cumlin discovered that she regarded Poynder with deep interest, if she considered that this feeling would be an eternal bar to her union with Waldron, and if, when she made this strange revelation, she trembled for the consequences she anticipated, how much more would her anxiety have been increased had she been acquainted with the compact made by her father with James. But of this she was happily ignorant, and without an effort to subdue her feelings for Edmund, gave her heart up to those indefinable sensations so natural and so dear to ardent tempera

ments.

We wish to account for certain pheno mena that appeared evident in the minds of two other characters in this domestic history. We record facts as they occurred, regardless of those rules observed by writers of fiction. The gentle Jane Gettings, the beloved of the gallant Hamish, lost not one word that escaped the lips of Edmund. Compelled by the glances of Stanley to rest her eyes on something, she fixed them on Poynder during the conversation that occurred at the Cherry Gardens, and she experienced a singular pleasure in so doing. Hamish perceiving this, as we before stated, wandered forth into the gar dens to seek relief to his wounded vanity in the contemplation of other beauties. Jane was deeply attentive to the discourse, and for the first time she estimated the effect of mind over physical beauty-for the first time she became enchanted by words and a homely countenance, and when Poynder concluded, she enjoyed the victory he obtained; her bosom glowed with emotion. When Margaret took the arm of Poynder, she experienced a sinking of her spirits, and a faintness pervaded her frame. She was astonished at her feelings.

On being rescued from great peril, the first pereon she perceived bending over her with compassionate kindness was Edmund. She trembled when the deep voice

of Cumlin commanded Margaret to take the arm of Poynder, and she became restless and absent to the gallantry of Hamish. They parted for the evening, and the agitation she experienced when Edmund pressed her fair hand as he passed into the house of Cumlin was excessive, and complicated. She envied Margaret for the first time; her excellent heart was then the abode of feelings strange and new. Hamish and Jane followed mechanically the footsteps of Sarson and Affery, utterly unconscious of the presence of her ad

mirer.

The first couple proceeded to the pier. This breakwater, at this period, was a narrow elevation, built of rock and sandstone, with a screen of the same material to protect the pedestrian, the lonely fisherman, or smuggler, from the spray that dashed with violence against it. Elevated above the carriage-way was constructed a narrow foot-pavement, connected with the screen, and about two feet high from the common road. At the extremity of of this road the harbour appeared black as midnight, choked with mud, shingle, and slime, without a screen or hand-railing to prevent accidents.

Along this upper path Hamish and Jane pursued their way in silence, except when greeted in the darkness by some well-known voices, for this was a common promenade of a Sunday and other evenings. They perceived their friends in the van discoursing in earnest language. Hamish gazed on space, humming a tune; and the fair Jane thought of Margaret and the happiness she was enjoying with the stranger.

When Sarson parted from Cumlin, he expostulated with his fair companion for dooming him to a longer probation, but he only received one answer to half-a-dozen interrogatories, and then so beside the questions that he felt perfectly bewildered and indignant. On arriving at the pier, Sarson, after a long silence, said,

"My dear Affery, during the last hour I have not had an answer from you to twenty questions. You know how dear you are to me. Are you indisposed, or what does this silence mean?"

"Dear me! have I been so remiss? I really beg your pardon, but I was thinking." Here she paused in confusion.

Of what, my dear ?" asked Sarson, anxiously.

"Indeed I do not well know," she remarked, with an absent air.

66

Not know! surely you are dreaming, Affery! Have I not been speaking of our future welfare-of our future home and happiness? and for the first time you have listened with chilling silence. What can be the reason?"