was put into my hands. The registries were all entered by himself, in a clear legible hand, and all in the same form. It contained a great many obscure names; for all who hasten to be wedded here, do not come in a chaise and four. Mr. Elliott assured us, that not a week passed without his being called upon to officiate for some loving pedestrians from the borders, who take advantage of the neighbourhood of this spot, to outwit iron-hearted parents. From amongst the most distinguished of those, whom the Springfield parson has linked in the holy bond of matrimony, I copied the following register, for the amusement of the curious, verbatim :

and want his professional assistance, we should have no reason to complain of the extravagance of the charge, or the tediousness of the ceremony*.

SCRAPS FOR THE CURIOUS,

&c.

(FORTH ASSORTMENT.)

PAIR'D, NOT MATCH'D.--February 5. A gentleman of Norwich, eighty years old, has married a young widow, whose former husband was near seventy; on which occasion (the journals say) a sermon was preached on "Ecclesiasticus," 24, 28:-" The first man knew her not perfectly, no more shall the last find her out."

(Gent. Mag. Feb. 1737.)

POPE'S EPIGRAM.-Mr. John Moor, of Abchurch Lane, the noted wormdoctor, died on the 12 April. He will now shortly verify Mr. Pope's witty observation, viz.:

O! learned friend of Abchurch Lane,
Who sett'st our entrails free,
Vain is thy art, thy powder vain,

Since worms shall eat ev'n thee.

(Gent. Mag. April, 1787.)

POISON TREE-March 15. Thomas Watson, a journeyman turner, working a West India wood called manchineel, the dust of it flew into his eyes, which soon began to fail him, and in three days he was quite blind, which being attended with exquisite pain, deprived him of his senses, and he died raving and singing. The Indians say that rain dropping from this tree is poisonous, and if it falls on the skin will raise a blister, but

*We met with the annexed paragraph, a few days since, in a newspaper of the year 1823:

"GRETNA.At this far-famed temple of Hymen, Mr. Robert Elliot, one of the officiating priests, has married no less than 162 couple since new year's day, 1822."-ED.

the fruit, which is beautiful, they can rectify so as to eat it with safety.

(Gent's. Mag. March 1736.)

CATCH CATCH'D.-May 24. Jack Catch, on his return from doing his office at Tyburn, robbed a woman of 3s. 6d., for which he was committed to Newgate.

(Gent's, Mag. May 1736.)

FLOATING COFFIN.-Died, May 12, Samuel Baldwin, Esq., at Lynington in Hampshire, formerly of the Inner Temple. He ordered his corpse to be buried in the sea amongst the rocks called the Needles, at the West end of the Isle of Wight, and the body being put into a leaden coffin, was conveyed in a large boat to the place appointed, attended by a clergyman to read the funeral service, but to the surprise of the spectators, when put into the sea it would not sink, which occasioned various conjectures among the superstitious, but several holes being bored in the coffin, to let the water in, it sunk. The coffin was made full big, and filled with bran. (Gent's. Mag. Aug. 1736.)

DEATH IN A DUNGHILL.-Died at Dartford, Mrs. Deakins. She had lost the use of her limbs for some

time, and was advised to be sweated in a horse-dunghill, where she continued two hours and a half, but fainting, was taken out dead.

(Gent's. Mag. June 1737.)

A GREAT BOAR.-August 24. A fatter boar was hardly ever seen, than one taken up this day, coming out of Fleet Ditch into the Thames. It proved to be a butcher's near Smith field Bars, who had missed him five months, all which time, it seems, he had been in the common sewer, and was improved in price from 10s. to two guineas.

(Gent's. Mag. Aug. 1736)

QUEER VEHICLE.- -Mr. Field, a great distiller in Whitecross Street, died Aug. 24. He was remarkable

MAD ROBBER. The secret of some mysterious robberies committed in Gray's Inn, while the Inhabitants thereof were in the country, has been unravelled. About a month ago there died at a mad-house, near Red-Lion Square, Mr. Rudkins who had cham bers up three pair of stairs, at No. 14 in Holborn Court, Gray's Inn. His sister-in-law and executrix, who lives in Staffordshire, wrote to Mr. Cotton, a broker, to take care of the things, in her behalf, and he having read Mr. Warren's advertisement of his chambers being robbed, found seral of his writings there; several things belonging to Mr. Ellis, robbed about two years ago of above 3001. ; and of Mr. Lawson of the Temple, and of Captain Haughton, whose chambers were broken open some years since, and 2001. reward offered for his writings, some part of which were found here; also books to 1001. belonging to Mr. Osborne, bookseller in Gray's Inn. 'Tis remarkable, that, when he had any thing in view this way, he would padlock up his door, and take horse at noon day, giving out to his laundress that he was going into the country. His chambers consisted of five rooms, two of which not even his laundress was ever admitted into, in which was found the booty, with all his working tools, picklocks, &c. He was formerly a tradesman in King Street, Guildhall. He always went to Abington's Coffee

House, in Holborn, on an executionday, to see from thence the poor wretches who passed by to their dispal end, but at no other time did he frequent that coffee-house.

(Gent's Mag. Sep. 1737.) G.SNEYD.

Highgate, 3 April, 1826.

THE

AMERICAN MUSE. NO. VII.

THE WITHERED TREE.
"There's nothing true but Heaven."--Moore.

Ah, Withered Tree! I've lately seen
Thy stately form in beauty growing,
When through thy leaves and branches
green

The summer winds were gently blowing; Oft, oft I've made thy boughs a bower, To shield me from the sun or shower, When Nature bloomed all fair and bright,

Like Fancy's visions of delight,

And thou, majestic Tree! didst stand
The beauty of the fairy land.
Oft, too, at twilight, have I strayed,
To muse beneath thy solemn shade,
When earth in Flora's riches dress,
And evening's tranquil loveliness,
And heaven's pure arch of azure blue
Was mild and lovely to the view;
I've heard the little birds above
Pour forth their mellow lays of love,
And mix the balmy breeze of even
With songs of innocence and heaven;
While all around, in earth and sky,
That pleased the ear, or charmed the

While sweetly in the scented grove
The fragrant flowers of Friendship
grew:

The showers that wet its balmy bed,
Were tears which mutual kindness shed;
Its zephyrs, the warm bosom's sighs;
Its sun-beams, light from Beauty's eye;
And the bright sky, that smiled above,
Was lighted with the gems of Love.
Blest I have sat beneath this tree,
When life's young summer smiled on me,
And wreathed the roses 'round my head,
That grew beneath its fairy shade,
While time unheeded passed away
As cheerful as the smiling day;

Oh! then the voice of kindness stole
Like meiting music o'er my soul,
And every object of delight
Grew still more fair, and shone more
bright,

Till my fond heart believed that tree
Would never lose its charms for me.
But, ah! when most its sweets inspired-
When most beloved,and most admired-
(Though mid-day saw it in its pride)
Before the evening came, it died!
The flowers of Friendship all decayed-
The showers forsook its balmy bed-
The fragrant zephyrs ceased to move
The green leaves of the Tree of Love,
That left no shade for me;
Each beauty faded, one by one,
Till every blooming trace was gone,
And Love, once fair to look a upon,
Is now a Withered Tree!

Ah! why should mortals thus caress
A flower to-day, that fades to-morrow,
And prize a sunny sky of bliss,
That only brings the storms of sorrow ?--
The brightest cloud that tints the sky
With lovely hues of crimson dye,
And glads the wanderer of the vale,
Must vanish with the passing gale;
The sweetest flower that decks the lea,
In summer months, so fair to see,
Though loved and fondled to the last,
Must perish in the autumn's blast.
And thus each little flower of bliss,
From which we look for happiness,
Blooms for a while in Fancy's ray,
Then droops-and falls-and fades

away:

Thus fairy Hope's enchanting smile,
With Fancy's tinsel charms of guile,
Melt like the golden tints of even
That streak the azure vault of heaven,
And leave no trace behind to tell
That e'er they bound or broke the spell.
But stern Experience teaches lore;
I'll trust to Flattery's tale no more→→→

PARIS was formerly disgraced by a woma, named Voisin, who occasioned many a wife to be freed of her husband. This public pest never refused her assistance to those who came to ask it. Like Medea and Circe of old, she understood the effects of poison, and under the pretence of diabolical influence, contrived to infuse the deadly venom into her victim's veins. When any lady desired her to consult the devil, in order to ascertain whether she was likely to become a widow or not, if much anxiety were manifested on the occasion, this sorceress, after making a variety of magical pretensions, would appoint a time when the husband should die, and which she said, would be indicated by some particular sign or mark that could not be mistaken. Sometimes, before the husband was sacrificed, certain valuable mirrors, or china vases, &c. were to be broken. These losses were looked upon with much delight by women who had so unhappily sought their husbands' deaths. It seldom happened, from the skill of this hateful sorceress in slow and subtle poisons, that her schemes were frustrated. She had many agents, and often contrived poisonous drugs to be given by the wife's own hand. Frequently would she bribe the domestics of the

family where her agency was sought, to break a mirror or a vase, for the purpose of strengthening the confidence reposed in her, and bringing about a tragical end.

Philibert, the famous flute-player, was then in the height of his fame. He had fallen in love with the daughter of a rich tradesman named Brunet, who had no other children. She was exceedingly beautiful, but very young; her mother, who was about forty years of age, always did the honours of the table when Philibert visited the house. The good man, M. Brunet, was delighted with the prospect of his daughter's approaching marriage, and frequently entertained Philibert at his table; he also often invited him to a tavern, and was so much delighted with his company, that he could not forbear speaking in high terms of praise of his delightful vivacity and amusing anecdote. His wife, hearing these favourable things said of Philibert so repeatedly, raised in her heart an envious wish at her daughter's approaching happiness, and a determination to possess the object of it herself. She had immediate recourse to the wretch Voisin, who gave her some drug, which being administered to M. Brunet, despatched him to another world. His death was repre