up his precious charge. The jealous husband, suspicious of all objects near his dwelling, unfortunately encountered the faithful squire, and perceiving by the embarrassed manner in which he answered his inquiries some extraordinary circumstance had occasioned his arrival, threatened immediately to destroy his existence, unless he made a full disclosure of it. Terrified at the prospect of being deprived of life, and having no arms to defend himself against his adversary, he frankly disclosed the nature of his embassy, and delivered the heart and letter into his hands. Elated with pleasure, and inspired with rage, the inhuman Du Fayel ordered the cook into his presence, commanded him to mince to atoms the devoted heart, and dress it with gravy to his lady's palate. Unsuspicious of the inhumanity of the design, and peculiarly pleased with the cook's excellence in his art, Lady du Fayel completely dined upon the dish which her sanguinary husband carefully recommended. As soon as the repast was ended, Du Fayel enquired if the ragout was to her taste? and upon being answered" that it was excellent!" he replied, "I knew you would Jike it, and therefore had it dressed; for know, madam," continued the inhuman monster, " that you have devoured the heart of Lord de Concy." Incapable of believing so striking an instance of depravity, she at first refused to give it any credit, but the sight of the letter, the diamonds, and the hair, too soon convinced her of the fatal truth. Shuddering with horror at the cruel recital, and urged by an impulse of detestation and despair, she thus replied: "It is true, my lord, that I loved that heart, because it merited my regard, for never could I find one like it; and since I have eaten so noble a meal, and my stomach is the tomb of so precious a heart, I will take care that nothing of inferior worth shall ever be mixed with it!" Grief and indignation then choked her utterance. She retired to her chamber, closed the door within side, refused to admit either food or consolation, and expired on the fourth day after her entrance."

A FALSE ALARM.-A few days ago the inhabitants of one of the principal cities in the west end of England were filled with conjecture and consternation at the following notice, painted in large capitals on the front of a house recently fitted up and repaired :-" Mrs. M from London, deals in all sorts of Ladies." All was consternation. Inquiry was instantly set on foot as to what this Mrs. M. might be ? No one could tell; she was a stranger from London about to establish a new concern. Great anxiety prevailed as to this equivocal proclamation of the new establishment. For two whole days all was surmise and consultation. On the third morning, behold, the mystery was unravelled. The house-painter, who had, it seems, been suddenly attacked by a severe fit of the gout, returned to finish his work, and in ten minutes concluded it by adding" and gentlemen's wearing apparel."

TRIADS. There is now living in a village near Brighton a man who has been three times married; each of his wive's names were the same; he has had three children by each, and each lived with him three years. He was a widower between each marriage three years, has three children living, the third by each wife, and whose birthdays are within three days of each other; his last wife has been dead three years, and he expects to be married again in three months.

THE LATE DR. CLARKE.-For the purposes of health and tranquillity he had latterly retired to Trumpington, where he appears to have lived in the bosom of his family in great affection and philosophical simplicity. "No bipeds," said he, "ever lived more happily than we. I am now sitting in a room six feet square, with a notable housewife, three sprawling brats, and a tame squirrel, in the midst of which this letter tells how I chirp." On another occasion he says, "I do assure

you we have long lived to see the absurdity of keeping what is called an establishment:' we have neither carriage, cart, horse, ass, nor mule; and if I were ten times richer I would live as I now do, in a cockchafer box, close packed up with my wife and children. We never visit, consume only wine of our own making, and breed nothing but rabbits and children."

A TRUE STORY.-From an American paper.

On the plain of New Jersey, one hot summer's day,
Two Englishmen, snug in a stage-coach, were vap'ring;
A Yankee, who happened to travel that way,

Took a seat alongside, and sat wond'ring and gaping.
Chock-full of importance (like every true Briton,

Who knows British stars far out-shine our poor Luna),
These cockneys found nothing their optics could hit on,
But what was insipid or miserably puny.

Compared with the English, our horses were colts,
Our oxen were goats, and a sheep but a lamb;
And the people! (poor blockheads) such pitiful dolts!
Mere Hottentot children, contrasted with them!
Just then, a black cloud in the west was ascending;
The lightning flash'd frequent, with horrible glare;
When near and more near, a fierce tempest portending,
The thunder rebellowed along the rent air.

An oak by the way side, Jove's bolt made a dash on,
With a peal that knock'd horses and cockneys all flat;
There, hang you!", cries Jonathan, quite in a passion,

66

Have you got better thunder in England than that?"

SHERIDAN.-When Mr. Thomas Sheridan, son of the late celebrated Richard Brinsley Sheridan, was candidate for the representation of a Cornish borough, he told his father, if he succeeded, he should place a label on his forehead, with these words " to let," and side with the party that made the best offer. "Right, Tom," said the father, "but don't forget to add the word ' UNFURNISHED.'

TEMPTING OPPORTUNITY.-A few years previous to the French revolution a young lady, an orphan, of the age of seventeen, who was very rich, was married to a young man without fortune. They had lived in the most perfect happiness; and it was with the utmost astonishment that their neighbours and friends heard of their intending by mutual agreement to take advantage of the new law of divorce; but their surprise was still greater when, two or three days after, they saw them married to each other again. The reason was that the young lady's guardians had only consented to the first union upon condition that the lady's whole fortune should be secured to her; so that the husband could not engage in any beneficial use of the capital. The marriage was dissolved by the revolutionary law of divorce, and the lady, being made mistress of her fortune, by being of age, she proved her liberality and gratitude by making her husband master of her whole property.

PUNCTUALITY.-Mr. Scott, of Exeter, travelled on business till about eighty years of age. He was one of the most celebrated characters in the kingdom for punctuality; and by his methodical conduct, joined to uniform diligence, he gradually amassed a large fortune. For a long series of years the proprietor of every inn he frequented in Devon and Cornwall knew the day and the very hour he would arrive. A short time before he died, a gentleman on a journey in Corn

wall stopped at a small inn at Port Isaac, to dine. The waiter presented him with a bill of fare, which he did not approve of; but observing a fine duck roasting, "I'll have that," said the traveller. "You cannot, sir," said the landlord; "it is for Mr. Scott, of Exeter." "I know Mr. Scott very well," rejoined the gentleman; "he is not in your house." True, sir," said the landlord; but six months ago, when he was here last, he ordered a duck to be ready for him this day, precisely at two o'clock:" and to the astonishment of the traveller he saw the old gentleman on his Rosinante jogging into the inn-yard about five minutes before the appointed time.

MEDITATIONS ON AN OLD COAT.-I hate a new coat. It is like a troublesome stranger that sticks to you most impertinently wherever you go, embarrasses all your motions, and thoroughly confounds your self-possession. A man with a new coat is not at home even in his own house; abroad he is uneasy; he can neither sit, stand, nor go, like a reasonable mortal. All men of sense hate new coats, but a fool rejoiceth in a new coat. Without looking at his person you can tell if he has one. New coat is written on his face. It hangs like a label out of his gaping mouth. There is an odious harmony between his glossy garment and his smooth and sense. less phiz; a disgusting keeping in the portrait. Of all vile exhibitions defend me from a fool in a new blue coat with brass buttons! ** An old coat is favourable to retirement and study. When your coat is old you feel no tendency to flaunting abroad or to dissipation. Buffon, they tell us, used to sit down to write in his dress wig, and Haydn to compose in a new coat and ruffles. I cannot conceive how they could manage it. I could no more write an article in a new coat than in a strait waistcoat. Were I to attempt it, my very good friends, the public, would be severe sufferers. A happy thought by the way just strikes me. You may tell by the manner of an author