man as well as I do, they would have believed every word he said; for there is not an honester fellow in the county. But I know how to work these juries." As the evening waned, the disputants began to leave the field: and Hedges being thrown by chance into the barroom, alone with his good-natured host, addressed him very seriously upon the subject of the countenance he had given to certain heresies that had been uttered in his presence, and seemingly with his concurrence. "Lord, Mr. Hedges," said he, in a quiet tone, and looking round to see who was within hearing, "you know my ideas long ago about all that matter! It isn't my business to break with customers, or to be setting up against them. What signifies opinions this way or that! But," he continued, erecting his figure to its full height, and putting on a look of extraordinary determinaton, "sentiments is another thing! Let any man ask me my sentiments-that's all. Thar's no flinch in me, you may depend upon it." Swallow Barn, or a Sojourn in Virginia. rically, and without evasion-When you and Smith went down to camp-meeting, hadn't Smith a bottle of whiskey in the bosom of his shirt? Tell the truth." The attorney for the commonwealth objected to the question, but the court overruled the objection. "Why, yes, he had," replied the witness."Didn't Jemmy buy that bottle himself, and pay for it out of his own pocket? On the oath you have taken.""Why, yes, he did."-" Well, now tell us; didn't you drink some of that whiskey yourself, along the road?"66 Why, yes, I did. I tell the truth, gentlemen." "More than once." 66 Yes, several times."- "After you got down to camp?"—"Oh, yes! certainly -I don't deny it."-"Did you and Jemmy drink out of the mouth of the bottle, or out of a cup ?"-" Certainly, out of the mouth of the bottle. You will not catch me in any lies, lawyer Hedges." "Really, Mr. Hedges," interrupted the attorney for the commonwealth, "I don't see what this has to do with the question. I must apply to the court.""Oh, very well," said Toll, "I see how it is. Gentlemen of the jury, I don't insist on the question, if the gentleman does not like to have it answered. But you can't help seeing the true state of the case. Here's this fellow, who has been all along drinking out of the very same bottle gical property to the emerald, which is sup with Jemmy Smith and Jemmy's own "Ah!" THE EMERALD RING. FOR THE OLIO. An ancient superstition has attached a ma posed to lose its colour (particularly when a love token) as the faith of the giver wavers until it at length becomes perfectly pellucid. Ancient Treatise on Gems. The ring-the ring of emerald On her slender finger shone, A wasting thought had faded Her cheeks transparent bloom; Her parted hair was braided From her brow with orient pearls ; Its soft and silken curls, As it heaved above the pearling Should dwell in aught so fair! Of the ancient trysting tree, Alas! for Ladye Lillian! Alas, thas hearts should range: Still on her slender finger, His charmed token shoneBut its green light had departed, And she wept-alone, aloue! E. S. CRAVEN. MEMOIRS OF TOM JONES. Heard by the late Mr. Colquhoun from the lips of Millar the Bookseller. FIELDING, having finished the manusscript of "Tom Jones," and being at the time hard pressed for money, went with it to one of your second-rate booksellers, with a view of selling it for what it would fetch at the moment. He left it with this trader in the children or others men's brains, and called upon him the succeeding morning, full of anxiety, both to know at how high a rate his labours were appreciated, as well as how he might calculate upon its producing him wherewithal to discharge a debt of some twenty pounds, which he had promised to pay the next day. He had reason to imagine, from the judgment of some literary friends, to whom he had shown his MS.. that it should, at least, produce twice that sum. But, alas! when the bookseller, with a sig nificant shrug, showed a hesitation as to publishing the work at all, even the moderate expectations with which our Cervantes had buoyed up his hopes seemed at once to close upon him at this unexpected and distressing intimation. "And will you give me no hopes?" said he, in a tone of despair. 66 Very faint ones, indeed, Sir," replied the bookseller, "for I have scarcely any that the book will move." "Well, Sir," answered Fielding, money I must have for it, and little as that may be, pray give me some idea of what you can afford to give for it.' -"Why, Sir," returned our bookseller, again shrugging up his shoulders, "I have read some part of your 'Jones,' and, in justice to myself, must even think again before I name a price for it;-the book will not move; it is not to the public nor do I think any inducement can make me offer you more than twenty-five pounds for it."-"And that you will give for it," said Fielding, anxiously and quickly." Really I must think again, and will endeavour to make up my mind by to-morrow." Well, Sir," replied Fielding, "I will look in again to-morrow morning. The book is yours for the twenty-five pounds; but these must positively be laid out for me when I call. I am pressed for the money, and, if you decline, must go elsewhere with my manuscript." ."-" I will see what I can do," returned the bookseller and so the two parted. Our author, returning homewards from this unpromising visit, met his friend Thomson, the poet, and told him how the negociation for the manuscript, he had formerly shown him, stood. The poet, sensible of the extraordinary merit of his friend's production, reproached Fielding with his headstrong bargain, conjured him if he could doit honourably, to cancel it, and promised him in that event, to find him a purchaser, whose purse would do more credit to his judgment. Fielding, therefore, posted away to his appointment the next morning, with as much apprehension lest the bookseller should stick to his bargain, as he had felt the day before lest he should altogether decline it. To his great joy, the ignorant trafficker in literature, either from inability to advance the money, or a want of common discrimination, returned the MS. very safely into Fielding's hands. Our author set off, with a gay heart, to his friend Thomson, and went, in company with him, to Mr. Andrew Millar, (a popular bookseller at that day). Mr. M. was in the habit of publishing no work of light reading, but on his wife's approbation; the work was, therefore, left with him, and some days after, she having perused it, bid him by no means let it slip through his fingers. M. accordingly invited the two friends to meet him at a coffee-house in the Strand, where, having disposed of a good dinner and two bottles of port, Thomson, at last, suggested, "It would be as well if they proceeded to business." Fielding, still with no little trepidation, arising from his recent rebuff in another quarter, asked Millar what he had concluded upon giving him for his work. "I am a man," said Miller, "of few words, and fond of coming to the point; but really, after giving every consideration I am able to your novel, I do not think I can afford to give you more than two hundred pounds for it." "What!" exclaimed Fielding; "two hundred pounds!" Indeed, Mr. Fielding," returned Millar, “indeed, I am sensible of your talents; but my mind is made up." "Two hundred pounds!" continued Fielding, in a tone of perfect astonishment; two hundred pounds, did you say?" 66 - Upon my word, Sir, I mean no disparagement to the writer or his great merit; but my mind is made up, and I cannot give one farthing more.' "Allow me to ask you," continued Fielding, with undi 66 minished surprise, "allow me, Mr. Before Millar died, he had cleared eighteen thousand pounds by "Tom Jones;" out of which he had the generosity to make Fielding presents at different times of various sums, till they amounted to 2000l. And he closed his life by bequeathing a handsome legacy to each of Mr. Fielding's sons. New Works. The Shaksperian Forgeries.* O sovereign death! haunts, And hospitals thy sumptuous palaces; choose The gaudy chamber of a dying king. Knowledge for the People.t Parts This is a very useful little work, and reflects great credit upon the editor for the mass of general information he has brought together. We extract the following: "Why is the barometer absurdly called a weather-glass? "Because, by it, certain persons attempt to establish rules, by which, from the height of the mercury, the coming state of the weather may be predicted. Hence we find the words, 'Rain,' Fair,' 'Changeable,' 'Frost,' &c. engraved on the scale attached to common domestic barometers, as if, when the mercury stands at the height marked by these words, the weather is always subject to the vicissitudes expressed by them. These marks are, however, entitled to no attention. "Thus, two barometers, one near the level of the river Thames, and the other on the heights of Hampstead, will differ by half an inch; the latter being always half an inch lower than the former. If the words, therefore, engraved upon the plates were to be relied on, similar changes of weather could never happen at these two situations. But what is even more absurd, such a scale would inform us that the weather at the foot of a high building, such as St. Paul's, must always be different from the weather at the top of it. "Why is the height of the column comparatively unimportant? "Because, it is observed that the changes of weather are indicated, not by the actual height of the mercury, but by its change of height. One of the most general, though not absolutely invariable, rules is, that when the mercury is very low, and therefore the atmosphere very light, high winds and storms may be expected. The following rules may generally be relied upon, at least to a certain extent: "Generally the rising of the mercury indicates the approach of fair weather; the falling of it shews the approach of foul weather. "In sultry weather the fall of the mercury indicates coming thunder. In winter, the rise of the mercury indicates frost. In frost, its fall indicates thaw ; and its rise indicates snow. "Whatever change of weather suddenly follows a change in the barometer, may be expected to last but a short time. Thus, if fair weather follow immediately the rise of the mercury, there will be very little of it; and, in the same way, if foul weather follow the fall of the mercury, it will last but a short time. "If fair weather continue for several days, during which the mercury continually falls, a long continuance of foul weather will probably ensue; and again, if foul weather continue for several days, while the mercury continually rises, a long succession of fair weather will probably succeed. "A fluctuating and unsettled state in the mercurial column indicates changeable weather. "The domestic barometer would become a much more useful instrument, if, instead of the words usually engraved on the plate, a short list of the best established rules, such as the above, accompanied it, which might be either engraved on the plate, or printed on a card. It would be right, however, to express the rules only with that degree of probability which observation of past phenomena has justified. There is no rule respecting these effects which will hold good with perfect certainty in every case.-Lardner. "Why are fogs more dense about London, and probably all other great cities, than elsewhere? "Because the vast quantity of fuliginous matter floating over such places, mingles with the vapour, and renders the whole so thick, that a noonday darkness is sometimes produced, and at other times the foggy darkness may be described as awful. A correspondent of the 'Magazine of Natural History,' in noticing such a day, about 2 P. M. on Jan. 27, 1831, says, this extraordinary appearance is, however, caused by a very ordinary accident, viz. a change of wind; and which may be accounted for as follows:- - The west wind carries the smoke of the city to the eastward in a long train, extending to the distance of twenty or thirty miles; as may be seen in a clear day, by any person on an eminence five or six miles from the city, and looking across in the direction of the wind; say from Harrow-on-the-Hill, for instance. In this case, suppose the wind to change suddenly to the east, the great body of smoke will be brought back in an accumulated mass, and, as this repasses the city, augmented by the clouds of smoke from every fire therein, it causes the murky darkness alluded to. It is to be observed, that the cause of fogs is also the cause of the smoke floating near the earth; of course, where there is much of the latter, the former is doubly dense. 66 By accurate observation of the height of the fog, relatively with the higher edifices, whose elevation is known, it has been ascertained that the fogs of London never rise more than from two hundred to two hundred and forty feet above the same level. Hence, the air of the more elevated environs of the metropolis is celebrated for its pure and invigorating qualities, being placed above the fogs of the plain, and removed from smoky and contaminated atmosphere. The height of the Norwood hills, for example, is about 390 feet above the level of the sea at low water, and thus enjoys a pre-eminent salubrity." Table Talk. THE BAYONET.-No troops in the world can contend with the bayonets of the English, say our countrymen; and this cannot be denied. Some military men will tell you that when two parties meet to try the struggle with the bayonet, that struggle cannot last long; one or the other must give way. If this be true, the present race of men are sadly deficient in personal courage, or all accounts of battles of a hundred and fifty or two hundred years ago, are monstrous falsehoods. We read in many authors of those days that soldiers contended obstinately at "push of pike” for a long time. Perhaps, however, the examples of the captains and lieutenants at that period were more encouraging. A. M. CHARLES JAMES FOX. Had it not been for his privilege as a member of the house of commons, he would scarcely ever have been in the enjoyment of his personal liberty. One day, shortly after a dissolution of parliament, while in the company of his friend, "the witty but dissipated Hare,' who, like himself, was in hourly expectation of being arrested, a couple of bailiffs suddenly made their appearance. "Well, gentlemen," said Fox, to them, are you Hare-hunting or Fox-hunting today?" It is worthy of remark, that notwithstanding his devotion to the senate, the table, the dice-box, and the toilet, he found time to cultivate the acquaintance of such men as Johnson and Gibbon; to increase his knowledge of the Greek writers; and even to indulge, occasionally, in poetical composition. His vivacity often exposed him to animadversion; for there was sometimes a recklessness in his gaiety, which seemed unseasonable and unfeeling. Thus, when his brother's house was in flames, he offered to bet the noble owner which beam, which partition, or which chim- walked upon their heads, so eager were ney would first give way. they to pay their court to her. Georgian Era, vol. I. INGENUITY OF WALPOLE.-On the still to have felt confident that his ex you death of George the First, Walpole ap pears to have expected a dismissal, but clusion would not be of long continuance; under this impression, he said to his friend, Sir William Yonge, "I shall certainly go out; but let me advise not to go into violent opposition, as we must soon come in again." He passed the two days, however, which immediately followed the accession of George the Second, in great agitation, and held several conferences with his friends, at Devonshire-house. Scrope, secretary to the treasury, who was admitted to one of these meetings, described the whole company as absorbed in gloom and consternation. But affairs soon took a favourable turn: Sir Spencer Compton, the intended minister, (for whom Walpole had, it appears, as an act of kindness, drawn up the king's speech to the council,) having proposed £60,000 per annum, as the amount of the settlement which it would be proper to make on the queen, Walpole, with whom she had been previously offended, secured her majesty's powerful interest in his behalf, by privately pledging himself, that if he were continued in office, the amount of her jointure should be £40,000 per annum above the sum proposed by Sir Spencer. She laboured assiduously to remove the king's prejudices against Walpole, and, at length completely triumphed. Meanwhile, the door of Sir Spencer Compton's house was besieged by persons of all ranks, who came to pay their court to him. As Walpole was passing in his carriage, he said, to a friend who with him, "Did you observe how my house is deserted, and how that door is crowded with carriages? To-morrow the scene will be changed: that house will be deserted, and mine will be more frequented than ever." As his continuance in office was the work of the queen, it was through her that it was first made known to the public. Lady Walpole presented herself at her majesty's first drawing-room; but as Sir Robert was supposed to be in disgrace, no one made way for her; until the queen motioned her to advance, saying, "There, I am sure I see a friend." Instantly the whole company drew back; the queen spoke to her in the most gracious manner, and in returning, Lady Walpole said she might have WILKES' ANTIPATHY TO THE SCOTCH. with extraordinary bitterness; and, at -Wilkes constantly abused the Scotch length, antipathy to their northern fellow subjects became a prevalent feeling among a large portion of the people of England. Wilkes never lost an opportunity of expressing his contempt for "the land o' cakes." flights," said he, during a discussion "Among all the with Johnson, on the genius of Shakspeare, among all the vagaries of that author's imagination, the boldest certainly is that of Birnam wood being wood where there never was a shrub! brought to Dunsinane ;-making A wood in Scotland! Ha! ha! ha!" a THE EARL OF CHATHAM.-In 1764, he greatly distinguished himself by his opposition to general warrants, which, with all his accustomed energy and eloquence, he stigmatized as being atrociously illegal. A search for papers, or a seizure of the person, without some specific charge, was, he contended, repugnant to every principle of true liberty. 66 By the British constitution," said he, "every man's house is his castle! Not that it is surrounded by walls and battlements; it may be a straw-built shed; every wind of heaven may whistle round it; all the elements of nature may enter it; but the king cannot; the king dare not!" SHERIDAN'S MAIDEN SPEECH.-His first speech was relative to a petition heard him with particular attention but his presented against his return: the house led the expectation of his friends. After success does not appear to have equalhe had spoken, he went into the gallery and asked Woodfall, the reporter, with great anxiety, what he thought of his first essay. Woodfall replied, "Ora tory is not in your line, you had better cleave to your literary pursuits." Sheridan was dumb-foundered for a few moments, and then exclaimed, with great energy, "It is in me, however, Woodfall; and, by heaven, I'll have it Out!" RICHARD THE Third's BeD.-Richard slept at the Blue Boar Inn, opposite the Grammar School, the night before the battle of Bosworth Field, and the bedstead whereon he is supposed to have lain is still preserved, and its history is thus handed down:-In 1613, Mrs. Clarke, keeper of that inn, was robbed by her servant-maid and seven |