Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB

quickness which some persons possess in distinguishing the smaller sounds, is very remarkable. Miners, in boring for coal, can tell by the sound what substance they are penetrating; and a recent discovery is that of applying a listening tube to the breast to detect the motions of the heart. In Kirby and Spence's work on Entomology, the writer says, "I know of no other insect, the tread of which is accompanied by sound, except the flea, whose steps a lady assured me she always hears when passes over her night-cap, and that it clacks as if it was walking in pat

tens !''

TRAGICAL FATE OF BERNARDO, COUNT OF BARCELONA.-By the death of Louis, in 840, Catalonia and Gothic Gaul fell to Charles, the youngest son of that Emperor. Indignant that in the division of the empire no portion was left for him, Pepin, son of the rebellious prince of that name, no sooner heard of his grandfather's death than he seized on Aquitaine. Bernardo formed the party of the son as he had formed that of the father, and when summoned by Charles, his new sovereign, to do homage in person for his fief, he at first refused to appear, but not without assigning the most plausible pretexts he could for neglecting to obey. Soon hearing, however, that these reasons were unsatisfactory to Charles, he has tened to disarm by his presence that Prince's anger. His arrest was resolved; he fled; his domestics were laden with fetters, and his moveable property seized. Feeling that he was unable to contend with so powerful a prince, he forsook, or pretended to forsake Pepin, gained the advisers of Charles, and again waited on the king. He threw himself at the royal feet, protested that he always had been, and would always remain, faithful; that the enemies of his sovereign should also be his, and offered to do battle with any one who should gainsay him. Charles believed him, pardoned him. In the wars which followed he remained neuter; but when, in 843, on a new division between the two brothers, Catalonia again fell to Charles, he began to aim at independence. However cautious his proceedings, they reached the ears of his superior, who concealed his resentment, but meditated a detestable revenge. Being summoned to attend a convocation of the States at Thorlouse, he reluctantly obeyed. On entering the assembly, as he knelt to do homage, Charles seized him with the left hand, and with the

right plunged a poniard into his heart. What makes this tragedy the more striking is the common belief of the times that the victim was the father of the murderer, who is said to have kicked the body, exclaiming, "Such is the punishment for defiling the bed of my father, thy liege lord."-Lardner's Cyclopedia,-History of Spain and Portugal.

MURDER OF A PRELATE.-To remove the Archbishop of Saragossa was the resolve of Antonio de Luna, head of the Aragonese faction which existed in 1411. As a truce had just been concluded between the hostile parties, Don Antonio solicited an interview with the Archbishop, each to be accompanied by a certain number of horsemen; it was to take place in the highway from Almunia, to Almonazid. As the churchman proceeded, he was met by the Count de Luna, with twenty lancerstwo hundred had been hid behind a hill-and the conference began. The object of Antonio was to quarrel with the Prelate, and thereby have something like a pretext for his deed. Finding that the latter would strenuously support the infante of Castile, he demanded in a furious tone, "Shall the Count de Urgel be king or not?"-"Not while I live!" replied the other." He shall, whether you live or die," rejoined the Count, who at the same time struck him with his mailed hand on the face. Seeing the mischief intended, the Archbishop pushed his mule to escape; but the sword of the Count descending on the head of the ill-fated victim, caused him to stagger in his seat, and almost instantly to fall to the ground, where he was speedily beheaded.

BIRTH OF EDWARD VI.-It has been said that it was found necessary to bring the infant into the world by that terrible method called the Cæsarian operation; and Sir John Hayward positively states the fact. Sanders, a bitter writer against King Henry, tells us that the physicians were of opinion that either the mother or the child must perish; that they put the question to the King, which should be spared, the Queen or his son? and that he answered, his son, because he could easily find other wives.-The official record in the College of Arms thus speaks of the Queen's death: "To the most Chrysten Pryncess, Jane, Quene of England and of Fraunce, Lady of Ireland, and mother to the most noble and puyssant Prince Edward; which deceasyd at Hampton Courte, the xxxixth yere of our most dread Sovereigne Lord Kyng

Henry the eight, her most dearest husband, the xxiiii of October, at nyght, xii of the clocke; which departyng was the twelf day after the byrthe of the said Prynce, her Grace beyng in childbed."

ANCIENT VESSEL. The old ship discovered some years since in the bed of the river Rother, has now been completely dug out and put in motion for London, there to be exhibited. It is supposed to be a Dutch or Danish vessel, wrecked in the great tempest of 1286, which diverted the river from its ancient to its present channel. The utensils found in it, and its own build, certainly do not sanction us in attributing to it a more remote antiquity.

THE IRON OF BORNEO.-The iron found all along the coast of Borneo is of a very superior quality, which every person must know who has visited Pontiana. There are forty-nine forges at work merely in the campong of Marpow; but the mandows and spears which Seljie uses himself and gives to his favourite warriors, are obtained farther north. Instruments made of this metal will cut through overwrought and common steel with ease; a wager of a few rupees having been made with Seljie, that he would not cut through an old musket-barrel, he, without hesitation, put the end of it upon a block of wood and chopped it to pieces, without in the least turning the edge of the mandow.

Varieties

HIGHEST TAVERN IN EUROPE.-A tavern has been built on the summit of Mount Faulhorn in Switzerland; it stands at an elevation of 8,140 feet above the level of the sea, and is, therefore between 5 and 600 feet higher than the Hospice of the Great St. Bernard.

George the Third and thE LATE JEREMY BENTHAM. The first writings Mr. Bentham committed to the press were letters in a newspaper, on the affairs of Europe, somewhere about the close of the American war, which had the singular distinction of being answered by George the Third. The king published his letter in a Hague journal, it was replied to by Mr. Bentham, and most unmercifully dissected; probably in that manner in which we know he afterwards so much excelled-the application of the rack of analysis. The king learned who the writer was, and never forgot him. Mr. Bentham's bill

for the establishment of a panopticon prison for the reform of criminals had passed the two Houses of Parliament, and the king had the pen in his hand to sign it, when he asked Lord Shelburne who it was that was undertaking this scheme. The answer was 'Mr. Bentham, of Lincoln's Inn.'-'Bentham !' said the king, and put down the pen. The bill never received the royal assent; the scheme was obliged to be given up, and Mr. Bentham was saddled with a large pecuniary loss-a thing he cared little for in comparison to the defeat of his benevolent project. This story Mr. Bentham had from the lips of Lord Shelburne himself.

COURTSHIP OF THE LATE DR. R."Dear sir, I am sorry I cannot accept your kind offer, as I am already engaged; but I am sure my sister Ann would jump at it. Your obliged, Eliza L.""Dear Miss Eliza, I beg your pardon, but wrote your name in mistake; it was Miss Ann I meant to ask; have written to her per bearer. Hoping soon to be your affectionate brother, J. R."-The Dr. and Miss Ann were married, and, as they say in the fairy tales, "lived very happy all the rest of their lives."

At

DUKE CONSTANTINE and the MonKEY.-One day, the Duke was busy writing in his own apartment, while his favourite monkey was as usual capering about, playing all sorts of tricks, and meddling with everything. length he fixed his eyes on a loaded gun, and snatching it up unperceived, he deliberately took aim at his master, and was on the point of pulling the trigger. At this moment the GrandDuke happened to raise his eyes from his desk, and though almost petrified with alarm uttered a loud cry, upon which the monkey averted the weapon, and discharged its contents in another direction. The report caused a dreadful consternation in the palace. The individuals in attendance hurried to the apartment of His Highness, and found him, though still agitated by the effects of the fright, caressing the monkey who had thrown the musket on the ground, and was apologizing for his misdemeanour by his very best grimaces. The only punishment the monkey received was to be banished for a time from the apartment of his master. He was removed to new quarters, and transferred to the friendly care of Mahmud Hassan. He was, however, frequently visited by his master, whom he continued to divert by his tricks and grimaces.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic]

Illustrated Article.

MARY HUGHES:

A TALE OF THE WELCH HIGHLANDS.

On earth one heart, one hope, one joy, one gloom, One closing hour, one undivided tomb.-CROLY. MANY years have passed since the heroine of these memoirs found a refuge from her sorrows in the bosom of the grave. The inscription on her gravestone is now defaced and almost illegible, and the green hillock that marked the spot in which she rests has sunk down to a level with the surrounding earth. Yet she still lives in the hearts of those who had been familiar with her beauty, and had known her when her cheek was radiant with the hues of health, and her limbs were buoyant with the elasticity of youth. To the memory of the old, to the recollections of those whose heads are now whitened with the snows of age, and whose forms are bowed down by the iron hand of Time, I have been indebted for much of my materials. Sitting in their humble cottages, hid in the most wild and picVOL. X.

See page 18.

turesque scenery of North Wales, after the telyn (the wild harp of the mountains) had sounded the high deeds of their fathers and the glory of their land, I heard the particulars forming the simple story of Mary Hughes, and the affecting incidents of her fate. It is a tale that will hardly awaken the sensibilities of those whose delight is fixed on novels of fashionable life; they, perhaps, will turn with affected disgust from a legend that has its foundation on the vulgar basis of nature and truth. But their approbation I do not seek. Those whose hearts are open to the sympathies of humanity, whose feelings are most deeply influenced by the simplest, which are the most natural causes, and whose passions do not require to be called into action by strong and artificial excitements, are far more likely to feel and understand this unpretending narrative, than those whose intellectual appetites seek for food of a higher though less innocent character.

Captain Hughes had retired from the service upon half-pay, after having served during most part of the Penin

256

sular war with acknowledged bravery. He had received a musket ball in the leg, while leading a detachment against the enemy, which obliged him to quit the army. Taking his daughter with him from a school in England, where she had been placed since the death of her mother, he had retired to the home of his fathers, which was situated among the almost inaccessible fastnesses of the Denbighshire hills. There was little about him to provoke inquiry. He had a well-cultivated mind, improved by observation of the manners and customs of other nations. He possessed the frankness of a soldier, mingled with the high bearing of a gentleman, proud of being descended from an ancient and illustrious house. He took pride in keeping up the hospitality for which the name of his ancestors had ever been famous; and the offices which had been filled in his household in a bygone age were not allowed to be vacant in his own. He was generous and brave, kind to his dependants, and loved his daughter, who was his only child, far above all earthly things.

Mary had attained her fifteenth year, and was just budding into womanhood. She was tall, well formed, and exquisitely beautiful. Her limbs were moulded in a form of surpassing grace; her features were modelled into an expression of unequalled loveliness; her light hair hung in luxuriant ringlets over her snowy forehead, dancing in the breeze that stirred them, and seemed to be clothed with smiles when the golden sunbeams played upon their tresses. Yet she was as unconscious of her own loveliness as the statue of the divine Aphrodite is of that beauty which has taken captive the hearts of so many generations. She was a child of nature, knowing no evil, and fearing none. Her mind was warmed with a high and eloquent enthusiasm, which made her look upon the goodness and excellence of the things by which she was surrounded with a feeling of exalted joy and unutterable love. She was kind and gentle to all around her, participating in their pleasure, and enjoying their happiness. The peasantry, by whom she was almost worshipped, called her, in their wild dialect, "The Flower of the Hills;" and it is a name by which she is most remembered by those who knew her, when her beauty fully deserved so flattering a title. A venerable bard, infirm and blind, who had long been attached to her family, taught her to play upon the harp, in which she

quickly excelled. He sang to her the national records of his country-the glory of Llewellyn, and the fame of Glyndwr. He taught her to appreciate the rich poetry of the mountain bards, and to execrate the memory of the tyrant by whose order they had been so inhumanly massacred. She listened to him with the most profound attention, as if she could never be weary of so delightful a theme; and by these means she accumulated in her mind a rich store of mountain minstrelsy. Often would she wander far among the mountains, to some spot made precious to her remembrance by a glorious struggle, in which the resistless valour of her fathers had triumphed over their invaders; or made holy to her memory by a deluge of blood shed by their unavailing bravery, when put in opposition to the superior numbers and discipline of their conquerors. One day when she was returning from an excursion of this nature, and was quickening her pace as she saw the shadows descending on the mountains, she heard a low bellow at some distance: she turned her head, and to her unspeakable terror saw a bull, of a short, thick breed, peculiar to that part of Wales, pursuing her with an appearance of the most savage ferocity. She knew there was no house nearer than a mile off, and she saw no help at hand. Her only chance of escape was over a rustic bridge at no great distance, which the animal could not cross. Summoning up all her courage, and with what little strength she possessed, she speeded on with a velocity as if fear had lent her wings; but she had not proceeded far, before she heard the enraged beast approaching nearer and nearer, snorting, bellowing, and tearing up the ground, as he bounded along the earth. She already seemed to feel his hot breath upon her shoulder, and, after uttering a short prayer, was sinking from excess of terror, when, just as the wild animal was on the point of wreaking his raving vengeance on her unoffending body, a strong arm caught her round the waist and drew her on one side. The beast, missing his aim, slipt and fell; and before he had time to recover his footing, his intended victim was hurried out of his reach.

Edward Morris, the son of a neighbouring clergyman, was quietly engaged fishing for trout in a stream sheltered from observation by a few willows that grew on its bank, when his attention was forcibly awakened by the noise

the bull made in his progress. He was just in time to save the beautiful girl from a horrid death; and with breathless haste carried her over the bridge that kept her safe from the fury of her pursuer. She had fainted. Edward Morris used the only remedy that suggested itself to him-that of sprinkling her face with water from the neigh bouring stream. He gazed upon her, and owned that even his poetic fancy, fond of imaginary creatures of ideal excellence, had never presented him with the resemblance of a being of such exceeding loveliness as the beautiful and helpless female that lay extended at his feet. He knelt as he raised her from the ground, and watched the appearance of returning animation with feelings of the most intense interest. At length she opened the silken lashes of her eyes, as if awaking from a strange and fearful dream, and met the impassioned gaze of her preserver, who, like Adam, enraptured with the beauty of his new-created bride,

"Hung over her enamoured." The sun at that moment was setting behind the distant hills, leaving the horizon in that blaze of splendour more frequently visible in the wild romantic scenery of a mountainous country.Flakes of crimson and gold, of dark purple and light orange, intermixed here and there with fleecy clouds of the purest white, appeared at some little distance from the departing luminary, whose immediate vicinity seemed one blaze of fire, clothing the far-off hills with a robe rivalling in the joyous richness and variety of its colour the most costly apparel in which the rulers of the earth have sought to bestow dignity upon their persons. Far in the heavens was one vast expanse of blue, darkening in the distance to the more sober hue of the coming night. The sea, stretching far and wide, was visible at the distance of a few miles, where its waters were occasionally relieved by the white sails of the distant ships; and the tall masts of the colliers and trading vessels, as they lay at anchor in the bay, were seen peeping over the rugged cliffs of the coast. The river was meandering in its serpentine course through the valley that lay at their feet, till it was lost in the waters of the ocean. The little stream by which they stood, one of the many torrents that were tributary to the river, was taking its way in a series of the most wild and pic turesque falls, leaping, like a chamoishunter, from crag to crag, over the rocky

prominences that interrupted its course. Around rose hills rising over hills, and mountains towering over their giant brethren into the clouds above them, till the eye ached at their immensity, and the head grew dizzy at the bare imagination of their height. Below them the gentle valley spread out its alluring beauties, dotted here and there with a cluster of simple cottages, from among which the unpretending church arose like a modest matron in the midst of her offspring. Occasionally, where some eminence presented a commanding situation, the baronial castle rose in its pride of power; or the well-built mansion of more modern architecture, the hospitable residence of some country gentleman, threw its protecting smile over the adjacent villages. Yet more frequently was seen the moss-covered ruin of a mighty fabric, that was once perhaps the refuge of the Saxon, or the stronghold of the Norman, from whence they had issued to spoil and lay waste with fire and sword the possessions of the native lords; till the people, roused to vengeance by a sense of their wrongs, rose en masse, washed away their just hatred in the blood of their oppressors, leaving the homes of their tyrants a heap of stones, as a monument for afterages, on which the antiquary might waste his useless erudition in conjectures upon its structure, or speculations upon its use. In the most savage spots of this landscape appeared cairns, a heap of stones, marking probably a place of burial, and cromlechs, which are arrangements of masses of stone, and are almost the only existing records of the Druids, a people whose existence is clothed with so much fable and mystery. These were the most conspicuous features of the landscape that met the eye; yet were they little heeded by the two beings who seemed the only spectators of a scene of so much loveliness and grandeur.

Mary gazed on the handsome features and athletic form of him to whom she owed her life: their eyes met; and in that mute look he felt that she had thanked him more than if her tongue had expressed all the eloquence of the Grecian orators. He raised her from the ground with as much care as if she was a fragile flower beaten to the earth by the weight of the passing storm.

Edward was enraptured at the idea of being the protector of a creature of such fascinating beauty as she who tremblingly hung upon his arm. In passing over a dark and fathomless ravine, only to

« AnteriorContinua »