selves, and swept the streets. On one occasion I passed a group, who had collected in a low apartment, and were whetting and lashing themselves into a state which should fit them for further outrages; a wretched hag, her form almost bent double, was supplying them with a fiery spirit, and lumps of half-grilled meat; a few of their number, overpowered by the former, were lying senseless on the floor; others, cursing and howling like half-famished wolves, were, with utter disregard to the safety of their companions, brandishing about their daggers and sabres, or firing their matchlocks against the roof of the apartment. But amidst the clamour, the din, and the confusion of this pandemonium, the greater number sat silent at the board, their eyes gleaming with a maniac's wildness and ferocity, quaffing the spirits in almost incredible quantities, yet waiting their effect in producing a fit state of excitement for them again to sally forth." An Aga related the following instance of these men's conduct. The Aga was ill, and tended by his beautiful and beloved wife, when the ruffians burst into his chamber. I read their purpose," said he, "in their looks; but I was stricken, and could not lift a finger to save her for whose life I would gladly have forfeited my own. A savage ruffian approached her; entreaties for life were unavailing; yet for an instant her extreme beauty arrested his arm-but it was only for an instant; his dagger again gleamed on high, and she sank a bleeding victim beside me. Cold, and apparently inanimate as I was, I felt her warm blood flowing past me, as with her life it ebbed rapidly away. My eyes must have been fixed with the vacant look of death: I even felt unmoved as he bent down beside me, and with spiderlike fingers stripped the jewels from my hand-the touch of that villain who had deprived me of all that which in life I valued. The figures of his companions, as they came to rifle the apartment, appeared to dilate before me, and their eyes to glare upon me, as they pointed, with fiend-like gestures and horrid laughter, to the bleeding innocent beside me. At length, a happy insensibility stole over me." The Aga was afterwards nursed and restored by the exertions of a

faithful slave.

The effects of despair upon wrecked or endangered mariners have been frequently noticed. The case was much the same at this time in Bagdat. "Some took to drinking; others to praying; many, to make the most of their time, launched into every excess." Yet amid this general extinction of moral feeling, the displayed in force. An Italian, hearing that a friend was seized with the plague, and lying at the gate of the city, went for him, carried him home on his back, and tended him till he was well. Other similar traits of conduct occurred noble ones, if we consider all the

best features of man's character were here and there

circumstances.

Arabia, and the isle of Socotra, were traversed and examined partly by Mr Wellsted, and partly by Lieutenant Ormsby, and we have much interesting matter regarding them here. The reader will find his attention and trouble amply rewarded, should he take up these volumes for perusal.

STORY OF URBAIN GRANDIER.* THE recent papers upon witchcraft and superstitions in general, which have appeared in these pages, have presented some strong and melancholy cases of human delusion and consequent human suffering; but no single one of these cases can compare in interest with that now about to be laid before the reader, and which relates to a similar subject. Urbain Grandier was born at Rovère, near the town of Sablé, in the first years of the seventeenth century. He was the son of a respectable notary-royal, and, being intended for a clerical life, was sent to prosecute his studies at Bourdeaux. While there, he distinguished himself highly, and the fraternity of the Jesuits, under whom he studied, were so well pleased with his progress and capacity that they appointed him, while still very young, to the living of St Pierre, at Loudun in Poitou, which was in their gift. He was appointed, soon after wards, a prebend in the Church of St Croix, in the town of Loudun. This double appointment, conferred on a youth and a stranger, excited much envy; and this circumstance, conjoined with others, led to deplorable consequences.

Urbain Grandier was a man of remarkable beauty, both as regarded countenance and figure. An air of distinction sat upon his whole person and appearance. In conversation, he united great facility of speech with elegance of language, and preached with much terised, it is said, by no ordinary degree of elequence force and impressiveness, his orations being characand genius. His success and estimation among the people of Loudun added to the hatred which many of his clerical brethren had conceived towards him, and, unfortunately, Grandier was not of a conciliatory disposition, nor exempt from such errors of conduct as gave his enemies an advantage over him. He was haughty in manners, and gave his tongue free scope in exposing from the pulpit even the religious abuses around him. He was attached to female society, and, although so many of the charges brought against him were proved to be false that we may reasonably doubt the whole, he was incautious, at least, in his deportment in this respect, and gave too ready a handle to calumny. He had certainly one intimate female friend, a young and beautiful woman named Madeleine de Brou, to whom he seems to have paid addresses, as a manuscript treatise against the celibacy of the clergy was found in his repositories, written apparently to satisfy doubts of hers. There is no good ground, however, for assuming that their connexion was actually an improper one.

The city was in this dreadful condition, when a new calamity befell it, and one, too, of the most awful nature. "On the night of the 20th of April, the river, which had rapidly filled its bed (through rains), in one dreadful rush burst its banks, and overwhelmed the greater part of the city. Fifteen thousand people were summarily hurried to eternity! There were many who had survived those best beloved, and awaited their fate in silence, making scarcely an effort to escape. It was not till after the first burst of water had subsided, that the greater number of the houses fell, the foundations not being loosened till several hours afterwards. I was sleeping at the top of the house when the flood burst in upon us, and was awakened by the roar of the waters rushing past the hall. Such was the man-young, high-spirited, captivating I remained perfectly quiet, convinced that no human in appearance and address, talented, and accomplished exertions could avail me. No outery accompanied the convulsions; I heard no shriek nor wail; but as I-against whom charges of the most extraordinary naseated myself on the upper part of the wall, I could perceive several bodies, their white dresses gleaming amidst the turbid waters, silently sweeping by. Towards the morning, the flood became less rapid and deep; and at sunrise, finding that it was not a greater stream than I could wade through, I let myself down by a rope into the street. Hardly had my feet touched the ground, when, with a mighty crash, down came

the house!"

ture were brought in the year 1633. Previous to that time, several minor charges had been preferred against Grandier by his enemies, out of which, as well by his innocence as by his decision and boldness, he had come triumphant. The party chiefly offended by this result was a priest named Mignon, canon of St Croix, and director or chaplain of an Ursuline convent at Loudun. Under the auspices of this man, the new This narrow escape made an impression on the scheme against Grandier was originated and developed. mind of the writer greater than even the plague had done. He resolved to quit Bagdat, and soon after Slowly and gradually a rumour spread through Louaccomplished his purpose. In the following year he dun that something extraordinary was going on in the revisited it, and found the plague not yet extinct. convent of the Ursulines. Stories of phantoms and In addition to this calamity, the pools of water left visions were the first things heard, and by and bye it by the flood grew stagnant, and gave rise to a destruc- was whispered that some of the nuns had exhibited tive fever. But this was not all. The army of the sultan, with whom the regnant pacha was at variance, symptoms of magical influence or demoniacal possesinvested the city as soon as the plague ceased, took it, sion. At length, confirmation was given to these reand gave it up to plunder. In the course of two ports, by the open announcement that Mignon, the years, by these events, the population decreased to chaplain, was about to exorcise the demons that pos20,000, five times that number having either perished sessed several of the nuns. Mignon called in to his or left the city, two-thirds of which were now in ruins. Our author found it an awful spectacle. I aid the curate of a neighbouring parish, and the strolled forth amidst the now desolate city to seek people of Loudun beheld this ecclesiastic enter the such of my friends as pestilence and the flood had town in procession, at the head of his whole parishionspared. Alas! how small the number to receive my ers, to assist in performing the great feat at the congreeting!-whole streets were depopulated by the one calamity, and overthrown by the other." Since the Loudun and other functionaries. Mignon received vent. There, also, assembled the chief magistrate of date referred to, Bagdat has partly recovered its population and commerce; but a century will not entirely them, and informed them that the superior of the conremove all traces of the mishaps which it suffered. Though occupying a prominent place in the titlepage of the volumes before us, the city of the caliphs forms the subject of but a small part of their contents. The shores of the Persian Gulf and Mediterranean,

* We take the details of this story from the Causes Celebres, but think it proper at the same time to follow other historians on some points, a strong prejudice being shown in that work against the unfortunate hero of the transactions recorded.

vent herself, Jeanne de Belfiel, a weman of great beauty and high rank, and a lay-sister, named Claire Magnoux, were the parties possessed, and who were

the superior's demon was Ashtaroth, and sister Claire's,

to be exorcised. He also told them that the name of

Zabulon. When the visiters were introduced to the possessed pair, the latter seemed to be in convulsions, and made the most extraordinary grimaces. Mignon commenced to interrogate the evil spirit of the superior. He did so in Latin, in order to convince the spectators that it was a demon who spoke by the lips of the nun, she herself being ignorant of Latin. "Quis misit?" (Who sent you here?) said Mignon. "Urbanus Grandier" (Urbain Grandier) was the reply. "Dio qualitatem” (Tell his quality), said Mignon. other questions were asked of a similar kind, and fix"Sacerdos" (a priest) was the answer. Two or three ing the guilt of magical arts upon Grandier. One of the spectators wished to ask another Latin question, but the demon would answer to nobody but Mignon, and, to avoid the dilemma of any farther interrogation, the superior, after replying to the chaplain's and assume a quiet demeanour. It was remarkable list of questions, chose to give up her convulsions, that the imp possessing the lay-sister was not a Latin scholar, and, on being asked any questions, referred the interrogator to his friend who possessed the superior.

These exorcisms were repeated at various times before other spectators. It was then discovered that the demon of the superior, who took the lead always, was, after all, a very bad Latin scholar, and confounded moods and tenses in a very remarkable way. He put Jesus Christus, with various other mistakes of the same Jesus Christus for Jesum Christum, and Jesu Christe for kind. Moreover, the demon's general command over the languages seemed very limited. When any sceptical persons present desired a Latin version of any word or phrase apart from the interrogatories of cisms were going on, a cat ran across the apartment. Mignon, the demon was dumb, and it was also found that he knew no Greek. One day, while the exor"A magician! an evil spirit!" was immediately the cry, and the animal was seized. Mignon exorcised it with great gravity, and tried it with Latin; but, strange to say, the cat said not a word in reply. These things went on for some time, until Grandier, becoming alarmed at the consequent reports sent abroad relative to himself, applied to the archbishop of Bourdeaux for an inquiry into the affair. The prelate appointed two persons to conduct the inquiry, demons, as well as their other powers. But the degiving them instructions to test the learning of the mons did not wait for such an examination. They fled whenever they heard that such a thing was to take place, and Mignon, with all his assistants in conducting the previous farces, became suddenly quiet, and said no more about the matter.

all farther danger, had not M. Laubardemont, a creaUrbain Grandier would now probably have escaped ture of Cardinal Richelieu, arrived in Loudun to demolish the castle, in accordance with a law passed on the subject. It happened that a satire had been written on the cardinal some time previously, and Grandier's enemies, while they renewed the spectacle of the possessions in private before Laubardemont, took care also to impress him with the idea that Grandier was the author of the satire on the cardinalminister. The consequence was, that, on Laubardemont going to Paris with this report, the irritated and revengeful Richelieu instantly sent him back with a commission to inquire into the guilt of Grandier, as regarded the charge of enchantment. Under the fostering care of the commissioner, the possessions at the Ursuline convent revived with increased vigour. In all, five nuns, and at least ten laical females, were found to be afflicted with the spirit of grimaces and convulsions. The superior still played the principal speaking part, and, from her admissions, it was made out that not less than seven distinct demons had who managed this whole affair, having now the desire taken up a lodgement in her single person. The men to maintain their own credit added to their hatred of Grandier, resorted to the most villanous tricks to confirm the idea of the possessions. For example, they made the devils of the superior promise to work in the air at a height of two feet from the ground. miracles. On one occasion, the superior was to stand She did take up something like this attitude, by some contrivance or another; but a curious spectator, turning aside her long robe, found her standing very firmly demon promised to lift the hat of M. Laubardemont on the ground on one foot. On another occasion, the in church, and hold it suspended for a time in the air. A second curious spectator examined too closely into this matter, for he found a thread and a hook hanging above Laubardemont's head, ready to perform the trick in a very natural way. In truth, Mignon, and into compacts with them, and carried on a corresponhis chief assistant Father Lactance, went so far as to make frequent arrangements with the demons, entered

dence of the most intimate kind.

Meanwhile, the excitement caused at Loudun was tremendous. The people daily assembled in crowds at the churches and elsewhere to witness the con

vulsions and grimaces, which formed the easiest and most common of the demoniacal displays.

To the general mass, all this was matter partly of amusement and partly of terror. To Grandier, who was thrown into confinement by Laubardemont, the affair was one of life and death. His persecutors actually brought him out before the public, with strange inconsistency, to exorcise personally the demoniacs, in the name of God. His conduct on this occasion extorted admiration from all. His comparative youth, his remarkable beauty, his calm dignity, and the air of conscious innocence which never left him, made him indeed like an angel (to use the words of the Causes Celebres) in the midst of real demons. One ecclesiastic alone dared openly to take his part at This was the Abbé Quillet, who, hear ing one of the demons threaten to hang up any person who ventured to doubt the possessions, defied the pretended spirit to his teeth, and dared him to do his worst. The demon did nothing to the bold abbé in consequence, but M. Laubardemont gave him a hint which rendered it prudent in him to try the air of Italy for his health immediately afterwards.

these scenes.

The strongest evidence of the fraudulent nature of all these pretended possessions was given by the recantation of Sister Claire, and two others of the performers in this strange farce. The poor girls confessed that they had accused an innocent man, being instructed to do so by Mignon, Father Lactance, and others. They represented themselves as compelled by remorse to declare the truth. This recantation did no good to Grandier, being styled a device of the enemy. Even when Jean de Belfiel, the main agent in the whole deception, followed the example of the other three, it was ascribed to the same cause. The miserable superior, who, it is thought, had been led by Mignon to believe that her convent would acquire lasting renown by this affair, was so vividly struck with remorse, that, after confessing her imposture to M. Laubardemont, she endeavoured to hang herself on a tree, but was prevented. These confessions did not benefit the victim, we repeat: M. Laubardemont, who had Grandier's fate in his hands, was determined upon his death. Accordingly, the accused person was tried by a commission nominated by Laubardemont, and was condemned, on the 18th of August 1634, to undergo the torture in the first place, for the discovery of his accomplices, and then to be burned alive!

M. Laubardemont engaged, or rather compelled, an eminent surgeon named Fourneau, to be present at the torture. But on the order being given to pull out the eyebrows and wrench off the nails of the victim, merely as a preliminary process, Fourneau protested that he "would not be the agent in exercising such cruelty at the bidding of any living man ;" and further said to Grandier, that it was with regret that he laid hands upon him at all. Grandier, who had expressed himself resigned to all, said to the surgeon, "You alone have pity on me." No," replied Four neau, "it is you who do not know the thoughts of others." The torture, which consisted in forcing wedge after wedge between the legs and a wooden case, was applied with almost unparalleled cruelty. The marrow ultimately spouted from the crushed bones. Yet the victim preserved an unvarying firmness, though he several times fainted away. He confessed nothing. He said he had been an erring man, but ever a believer in his Saviour and in his God, and guiltless of all laid to his charge.

When conveyed to the stake, Grandier had been promised two things. The first was, that he should be allowed to speak a word to the people; the second, that, in mercy to him, they would strangle him with the cord which he carried about his neck on the way to execution, as soon as the fire was kindled. On the passage to the fatal pile, the priests walked in procession, exorcising by the way the air, the wood, and every thing around. When they asked him if he would confess, he said he had confessed all already; and when they asked if they would pray for him, he answered mildly and sweetly, "Yes, yes, pray for me, I entreat you." But it was no part of the plan of the priests to allow him to move the multitude by his dying eloquence. When he reached the stake, and was about to speak, they threw holy water upon his face in such quantities as suppressed his words, and, with the same view, one of them embraced and kissed him. Grandier saw their purpose, and merely said, with a gentle smile, "The kiss of Judas! The words were heard, and one of the priests, under pretence of making him kiss it, struck him several times on the mouth with a heavy iron crucifix. Breaking promise respecting the strangling, Father Lactance, the most inveterate of his enemies, lighted the pile with his own hands, saying, "Wilt thou renounce the devil, wretch? Thou hast not an instant to live!" "Is this charity, Father Lactance?" said Grandier, calmly. "There is a God who will judge between me and thee. Before him I summon thee to appear in one month!" After this remarkable speech, he only uttered the words, "God have mercy, have mercy upon me!" More merciful than the priests, the multitude thundered out an unanimous demand that the victim should be strangled, and the affrighted executioner would have done so, but the flames had by this risen into force, and he was unable to effect his purpose. Thus the unhappy Grandier was burned alive.

We have been unable to give more than an outline of this famous case, which has a deep interest as one of the last instances in which the imputation of magic brought a human being to the stake. The gross in

O'ercome with sea-sickness I

brave,

dio!

wave,

lie;

I can sing of the Sea," and look braveWhen I feel it, I feel like to

die!

High o'er the ship came on the whelming One crash! and on her beam I saw her

wave

lie!

Shriek'd loud the craven, silent stood the

brave,

But Hope from all had fled-'twas only left to die! Prove, why, love, calamity, gave birth to the following

stanzas:

Of Baxter I cannot ap

prove, why,

And the reason is obvious
For the church he'd nor favour nor love,
So him I'd with

In life we mingled joys and sorrows
Confused, and none can give a reason
Hate quickly treads upon the heels of
And morning bliss quells night's
Others produced were as follow:—

What is What is Continued

brook, why, crook, I,

life?

death? strife

The want of breath!

Last night we view'd a lovely And all admired its joyous Yet to my thoughts were clearer The lustrous eyes of Laura

Calamy-tie!

prove, why; love, calamity.

star,

light; far

bright.

And 'tis sentiment kills me," says I.

It is of course obvious that a party of friendly people, spending a winter evening together, may, amongst other amusements, resort to that of scribbling bouts rimés. All may not be alike quick or ingenious in filling up the prescribed rhymes; but the wits of all will be exercised, and, while some of the resulting verses will surprise and amuse by their felicity, others will perhaps occasion a still heartier burst of laughter by their very lameness and emptiness. Those nearest a match will be eager to excel each other in bringing the verse quickly out, as well as in bringing out a good verse; and those who despair of making up verses of their own, may take an interest in the proceedings of the readier wits, and find a disinterested pleasure in backing one clever fellow, or one smart young lady, against another. Much jocularity must evidently attend such an intellectual competition as this, and perhaps some little sharpening of mind may also be the consequence. At the least, the party will find that they have spent two or three hours innocently and happily, and do not like each other the worse for the drollery they have been indulging in together.

It is well, in such a case, if clever verses are produced; but this is not absolutely essential. In such private exercises of the poetical talent, people do not look for the expression, correctness, and effect, which they expect in compositions submitted to them in print. They will find themselves ready to say, pretty fair," "very well," "ha, ha, ha, excessively good indeed," to things which, if put coolly and typographically before them, they would be inclined to toss aside as not worthy of a moment's regard. To convince our readers of this, we shall adduce a short series of verses which were lately produced in the course of one evening by a merry little party, who had fallen upon the game by chance, as a means of whiling away the time between tea and bread and cheese, and most of whom had never before heard of bouts rimés. The merit of the verses will, we expect, be considered as moderate; but that is exactly what is required to convince them of the merit of the game as a means of giving amusement, for we can assure our readers that the production of these verses kept the party laughing for the most part of an evening.

The rhymes given out on this occasion were all of them alternate rhymes for a verse of four lines. The first set was composed of the words, grant, ask, shan't, task; and of the verses consequently produced, the following were the best :-

the town of Anstruther in Fife, all of whom became very much knit up in the bonds of good fellowship together, contrary to all precedent in their proverbially irritable and mutually repulsive fraternity. Finding much pleasure in versifying, and showing their verses to each other, they at length agreed to embody themselves into a society, and become subject to the regulations of solemn and periodic meeting. "The brethren were accordingly," to quote their own words in one of their publications, "constituted into an union of rhymesters: their code of laws was framed and sanctioned: diplomas, conveying a licence to rhyme and scribble in all shapes and manners, were worded in language fully as important and sounding as those of Universities for Doctors in Divinity. Long strings of rhymes were no sooner issued by the Presiding Bard, to be supplied with thought, than those dry bones and clattering skeletons of Poetry stood to our astonishment before us in all the fatness and bloom of completion. In short, the associated rhymesters swore eternal friendship and good humour over the altar of that heathenish god whose fire is their brain's inheritance, and uttering a joint ejaculation for his powerful assistance, they bowed the knee before their inspiring idol." The Muso-maniac Society, as it was fitly enough called, met and rhymed, and rhymed and met, if not to the production of much good poetry, at least to their own immense gratification, and it has been whispered that even learned persons from Edinburgh would occasionally appear in the Fifan burgh, having performed a journey by sea and land of thirty miles, for no other purpose than to participate in the gaieties of this merry corps. At length, unable any longer to keep so much drollery to themselves, they ventured to present to the world a thin volume, entitled " Bouts Rimés, or the Poetical Pastimes of a few Hobblers round the base of Parnassus," being dedicated to the Lovers of Rhyme, Fun, and Good Fellowship throughout the British Empire." This volume has long ceased to be seen on the counters, or even the shelves, of all ordinary booksellers; but, by the favour of a friendly Muso-maniac, we lately became possessed of a copy, which will enable us to make the merry doings of the corps a little better known than heretofore.

We find, in this volume, no fewer than fifteen distinct and independent exercises on the rhymes, sublime, time, day, bay, dawn, lawn, moon, noon, entire, fire, lake, shake, wing, bring, few, adieu; and all of these, we have reason from their respective signatures to believe, were the production of different rhymers. It is extremely curious to observe the diverse character of the various sets of verses, some being solemn, some sentimental, and some comic, notwithstanding their all being bound to end with the same words. It is also curious to note how the various versifiers contrive to get over, by various expedients, the one awkward word in the set of rhymes, namely, the word entireas also to see the same word made to tell impressively

* Edinburgh, printed for A. Ma kay, High Street; W. Cockburn, Anstruther, &c. 1815.

Or, snugly seated with a chosen

Methinks I see the rosy-finger'd

The sun may rise, but never reach his
From earth, from heaven, with ripen'd force
Bursts the wild sweep of all-devouring
From heaven's high arch to the infernal
Shall all creation to her centre

Its fearful flight the trembling soul shall And to its God each vice and virtue

Oh! may there then on earth be found but Not well prepared to bid the world

MORNING,

Written on Arthur's Scat.

moon; noon.

entire, fire. lake, shake. wing, bring. few adieu!

A very hero's soul would

men ruffle.

fourth of the number, had drunk but a fourth of the drink, and ought to pay but a fourth of the money. No man had a right to pay for more than he received. The landlord ought to look to each man for his share, and not seek the whole from one; and that there could be no justice in obliging one man to pay for another."

Court (to Marshall).—When a company drink at a public-house, they can be considered by the landlord but as one person; they have joined themselves together, and he has no right to put them asunder. He cannot say to one, as he enters, "You may drink,” and to another, "You shall not ;" nor ask any one whether he has money to pay his reckoning. One may treat another, for what he knows, or he may treat the whole. It is a partnership for that night; and what right has the landlord to inquire who finds the capital? They are equally accountable to him for the whole debt. It is not enough that one pays his part, he must take care that the whole is paid; that is his concern,

CASES FROM HUTTON'S COURT OF REQUESTS.

WILLIAM HUTTON, author of the History of Birmingham, and whose autobiography affords one of the most pleasing instances of an individual rising by industry and proper moral conduct to a high sphere in life, in the latter part of his honourable career filled the office of judge in the Court of Requests in Birmingham, and left behind him a memoir of the more remarkable cases which came before him for decision in that capacity. This rather singular production having, in the course of half a century, fallen completely out of notice, has been selected for our series of cheap reprints, from a conviction of its utility as a means of disciplining the popular mind both in notions of justice and in right reasoning and logic. As a specimen of the amusing nature of the contents, we here offer the following cases :—

THE RAFFLERS.

The desire for gaming is predominant in every rank among us. There is an unaccountable pleasure in changing a certainty for a chance. If a man has a few old household goods that lie heavy upon his hands, the refuse of a broken mercer's shop, or a horse fit for the dogs, he publishes a raffle. The propensity to gaming, joined to his own little interest with his friends, will probably help off his tickets. The idea of having a horse for a shilling, whose very hide is worth eighteenpence, is a powerful motive to venture. The strong desire to win gives rise to unfair practices, and these to everlasting disputes. The disputants in higher life appeal to the sword; in lower to the Court of Requests; and, for want of that, to the fist.

Rossiter sued Wheeler for L.1, 18s. 11d. Wheeler replied, that Rossiter held a watch of his, value three pounds. It appeared that Rossiter owned a watch, which he put up to be raffled for, and had solicited Wheeler to take a ticket. They had agreed and fixed upon the number. That ticket happened to win the watch. Rossiter declared, that as Wheeler had neither paid for the ticket nor received it, he should have nothing to do with the prize, but as the ticket was in his possession, he would be the winner himself.

whether it be at mid-day or midnight, every partner is responsible for the debts contracted in the partnership. He who sits silent in company has the same right to pay for the tankard as he who called for it; he who watches at the gate is just as culpable as he who robs the house. If one of them break a glass, it is nothing to the landlord who broke it; he can charge it to the company, as well as its contents, and they must settle the matter with the individual. If this were not the case, a landlord would soon have his cellar emptied, and nothing left to fill it. One man with money might bring a dozen without, who being strangers, the landlord is deprived of his property and his remedy; and as no evil can be brought upon a man without its attendant cure-for they follow each other like the substance and the shadow-we must charge the debt upon you. He can take any of the company, and he whom he takes may demand their shares from the rest. It is to your honour that he singles you out; he thinks you the Pam of the pack.

THE SHOEMAKER AND OLD SOLDIER.

Shad, a shoemaker, sued P, an old soldier, September 1, 1785, for L.1, 4s. P acknowledged that the debt might have been contracted, but pleaded the statute of limitations, which annihilates a debt after a lapse of six years, provided that debt is not kept alive by a continued account between the parties, or by an acknowledgment or a promise from the debtor. Shad declared he had had a running account, had recently sold him goods, and received payment. The court continued the cause, and desired him to produce his books the next court-day.

It appeared the debt sued for was contracted in 1778, after which P went into the army, and was absent five years. At his return, he frequently bought shoes of Shad, had not much credit, and had since paid.

was, whether the new connexion preserved the old The question to be considered by the commissioners debt? It was argued in favour of the delinquent, that the old demand stood by itself, stands the same still, and is cured by time; that whatever P bought, he paid for. That as P, out of gratitude, had become a customer again, it would be ungenerous to trap him for conferring those favours upon Shad which he might have conferred upon another.

It was urged in reply, that P laid himself open to a suit, by appearing in the verge of the court within six years; that his becoming a customer might excite Shad's patience, who might otherwise have made a more early attack; that the commissioners did not conceive they had any right to destroy a debt; that a new debt will piece to an old one, as well at the end of five years as five days; and as the two debts did not seem divided, either by time, law, or reason, they

watch.

R.-Wheeler's credit is too bad to allow me to change a certainty for an uncertainty. Your orders cannot oblige a man to pay money who has none. The credit of a gambler is base currency.

C-Has any artist valued the watch? R.-Yes, and rated it at nine shillings. W. I will not take thirty for it. C. (to Rossiter.)-Was it fair in you to puff forth your watch at three pounds, which, by your own confession, was valued at nine shillings? We shall make an order in your favour for one pound and eleven pence; you shall deduct eighteen shillings for the watch, and promise to keep it one year from this day, during which you shall return it to Wheeler if he ever tenders you the eighteen shillings. Both were satisfied.

THE RECKONING.

Marshall, a journeyman, was brought before the court, by the keeper of a public-house, for a debt of fifteen shillings; he acknowledged three shillings and ninepence, which he was willing to pay. It appeared that four people, of whom he was one, had spent an evening, and the above sum, at a public-house, had not paid their reckoning, and the landlord sued Marshall for the whole.

Marshall urged, "as he had not drunk the whole, he had no right to pay for the whole; he was but a

* People's Editions, published by W. and R. Chambers. Price 18.

The bench having got over this stumbling-block, fell upon a greater. It was pleaded, in favour of P, that in the five years above mentioned he had been condemned in a court of justice for housebreaking; that his father, by his prudent behaviour, as sergeant in the militia, had obtained the good graces of Lord B., his colonel, by whose interest he had procured a pardon for the son, who had since settled, become a master, lived in credit, and stood a fair chance of acquiring a fortune. That the moment sentence of death is passed upon a man, he is dead in law; the judge can order instant execution. He can make no will, he can bequeath no effects, he can inherit no property, nor transact any business with the living. No action can lie against him; all his own debts are cut off, no creditor can claim upon him, consequently this demand ceases; and this is the practice of all our

courts.

But it was remarked, if the law killed, the crown could make alive; that a pardon reinstated a man where the law found him. If the crown gives life, it gives all its appendages; every thing belonging to the man revives with him, consequently his debts. If he can claim, as P had done, why not pay? The crown is defective, if it cannot do what the law has undone. And to suppose life restored without action, is to suppose an impossibility.

These reasons operated with the bench; but still there was an obstacle they could not surmount-the practice of all the courts, which they were assured by professional men existed. The commissioners were set fast. They found themselves completely hemmed

in between law and equity, and, like Sterne's starling, 66 they could not get out.' If they attempted one side, they would fly in the face of the law; if the other, they would break the mounds of equity: all the quirks of Westminster-Hall could not relieve them. That the debt was due to Shad did not admit a doubt, but how to give it him did.

As the whole legislative power is in the hands of the king, lords, and commons, and as every act of theirs is supposed the act of every man in the kingdom, it becomes requisite to pay a deference to the laws, though they may not exactly hit our sentiments. He pays his country an ill compliment who sets up his private judgment against theirs: besides, the precedent is dangerous; for if a man can trample upon one law, why not on another? which would immediately put a period to government. If a man will not submit to the laws, because those laws are defective, there is an end of submission, for no perfect system can exist, the weakness of our nature will not allow it. Again, if the commissioners acted against law, they acted against an authority equal to that under which they sat; for the same powers which favoured the culprit, constituted them a bench. Two evils offered, one of which they were obliged to commit; they therefore chose what they conceived to be the least, that of dismissing the cause. If they had acted against law, they could not have made reparation; but by giving it a simple dismission, they left Shad at liberty to pursue his antagonist in another court, or even in this, if any further light could be thrown on the subject.

The suitors were both hurt; one, because he could not recover his property; and the other, because the

They alleged against Pemberton that he was a foreigner and a papist. Court.-As he who wilfully sets the house in a flame is the first to cry out fire, so he who injures is the first to censure the injured. Pemberton being a stranger, should have taught you another conduct. A stranger is entitled to our civility and protection, but you consider him an object of plunder. You also accuse him of being a Roman Catholic: this proves nothing against his religion, but much against your own, for it proves that a Protestant is both able and willing to rob a Papist.

We direct that E shall relinquish his four-shilling bargain to D, and that D shall return the coat to Pemberton, paying him three shillings-two shillings and twopence for the purchase, and tenpence for mending, which being paid on Hill's account, brings the coat to the standard of value, and adds three shillings to his debt; we shall therefore make an order against him for six, and recommend a lesson he will never learnto show kindness to strangers, and justice to all.

A SUBALTERN'S REMINISCENCES OF A

TRANSPORT.

To the best of my recollection, Beresford, in his "Miseries of Human Life," never makes the slightest allusion to a transport. This is passing strange : it would have yielded him a fruitful topic. If to be amongst three or four hundred people, soldiers and sailors, and wives and children of the former, whom the fates have ordained to be stowed away in a little

set of bristly, noisy Irish pigs, kicking up a dreadful row, and looking as if they by no means relished the idea of expatriation. How that big hog roars! Heu, heu! the world we live in-the ungrateful world! Poor brute, perhaps you have helped to pay the rint, or the tithe, and the reward of all thy merits is to be cut up to appease the appetite of strangers. How he struggles, and kicks, and roars! There is certainly nothing lamb-like about him. Another haul -he swings bravely over the gangway-lower away now-that will do he is safe in the long boat! quite enough to terrify the few timid sheep, that are huddled together in the farther end of it, with his hideous screaming and grunting; but still there is an honest indignation in the whole of his conduct. If the brute could speak, he might exclaim with Scipio (and with the greatest possible assurance that his prediction would be fulfilled), "Ingrata patriæ, non possidibis mea ossa."* What comes next? Gobbling turkeys; some of them regular patriarchs, and no mistake. No joke to pick one of these drumsticks! And geese and cackling ducks, firkins of Irish butter, and potatoes raised by the "finest pisantry" on earth.

The pilot is aboard, looking "mighty 'cute" as paddy would say. Stand round the capstan, lads; studding-sails set, like a lonely bird, over the ocean. hurra! the anchor's up. Away she goes with her The breeze is freshening. In with the studding-sails

reef the topsails-and now for some of the delights of sailing. Hear ye those horrible sounds of pain and wo, which break from one side of the deck? Hallo! Half a dozen now it is by no means a solitary case. at the gurgling waters, at the same time making sounds are with their heads over the gunnel, looking wistfully

don, was publicly lighted up in court.

THE JEW AND THE CHRISTIAN.

human life, I know not what is. The best illustration I can give of a transport is a hen-coop well crammed

and desired the court, with a significant smile, to take notice that his antagonist was a Jew. The court, in return, desired him to take notice that the declaration did not operate against the Jew, but against himself; that the bench were confined to the actions brought before them, and left the religion to the man.

The Christian was a jeweller. One of the parties had agreed that he should buy a watch of the Jew, value three guineas, and pay him in stone kneebuckles. When the Christian supposed that the Jew had sold the buckles, he sued him for L.1, 19s. 11d. as an overcharge for the watch, which he said had been valued at one guinea. No evidence appeared. The watch was produced, it seemed modern, but the bench were not judges of its value. On the other side, an evidence for the Jew declared he had seen the buckles; that the workmanship was exceedingly bad; that they fell to pieces without wearing; and that he could

sell better at fifty per cent. under the price. Court.-Perhaps the case before us is that of a Jew and a Christian, who, not having the fear of any religion before their eyes, strive which shall overreach the other. Truck is the most disreputable part of commerce; each side promises to charge the money price, but neither performs it. No man will barter away his goods if he can dispose of them for money; but defective articles rarely find a better market. He cheats, expecting to be cheated. Had the Jew or the Christian received the other's property, and refused to deliver his own, we should have enforced payment. But as each saw, received, and approved the purchase, each fulfilled his bargain, consequently nothing can lie against one more than the other; we shall dismiss the cause, and leave the parties to cultivate their talents for cozening.

THE COAT AND MANY OWNERS.

Pemberton was a stranger, of a moderate capacity, about fifty; had married a girl of twenty, who appeared handsome, modest, and agreeable, but not much wiser than her husband. She had never seen the world, and he was never able to see it. This loving couple, with one child, in 1786, came to seek their fortunes in Birmingham, and took up their abode in Moor Street, in a den of thieves. The husband was easily enticed to get drunk, and treat the whole crew, which expense, with three shillings borrowed by Hill, broke him. Hill then persuaded him out of his coat, which he gave to A, and he pawned it to B. C fetched it out of pawn, and sold it to D for two shillings and twopence. D having mended it, sold it to E for four shillings; and perhaps this hackneyed coat, in a fortnight more, would have travelled through the whole alphabet. Pemberton sued Hill for thirteen shillings and sixpence half a guinea for the coat, and three shillings borrowed.

Money is the grand standard to which all property is brought to find its value; this is the only certainty we know; and except property of every kind has been tried by this standard, it cannot be pronounced a debt, nor recovered in this court. If Pemberton has a right to charge his coat at half a guinea, why not at half a score? If the bounds of value are not exactly prescribed, those bounds, like space, become infinite. Had Pemberton been defrauded of his coat while new, it would have borne a certain price, but becoming secondhand, that certainty ceases; the bench cannot treat

it as a debt.

All the parties appeared; some of them, I knew, had practised the arts of deception for thirty years. They spoke loudly in favour of themselves, as people usually do whose actions will not speak for them.

of her crew, or rather her passengers, are much the same as those of the fowl in a hen-coop-by no means the most gentle, peaceable, or forbearing. So as they can in any way accommodate themselves, no matter how much they discommode their neighbours. Certainly the well-filled transport at sea is the place in which to see human nature divested of those many little disguises, which in general make it pass off so plausibly.

Here comes a draft of the -th from Chatham-a vile place, in my opinion almost as bad as a transport. A hot march it is to Gravesend : what an appropriate name this place has the last ground, perhaps, your foot touches until you tread on a foreign soil,

which is likely to be your final resting-place! There rides, on the bosom of Father Thames, the vile vessel, No. —, that in a few short hours is to transport those fine young fellows from their native shore. The boats are at the pier-they embark-they ascend the ship's side-the anchors are weighed the sails unfurled and the loud and hearty cheer proclaims she is urging her winged flight! A cheer under such circumstances, strikes more mournfully on the ear of a reflecting man than the tolling of a funeral bell. How many of these voices will be stilled ere the passage is over! How many a manly corse, with sullen plunge, will cleave the parting waters! Many that will survive the voyage, will sleep beneath the shadow of the feathery palm! How few, alas! how few, will return to the scenes of their youth, and raise the loud cheer, as the shores of their native land break dimly on their view, over the breast of the waters!

less throng. They are depôt men, all heart and spirits, But few such thoughts, I ween, trouble the thoughtgoing to join their service companies. What do they know of care, or disease, or the sigh of the exile, on a foreign shore, for the land of the dreams of his boyhood!

The transport is destined, in the first place, for Cork, to take in detachments for other corps, and to lay in the sea stock. We will not dwell long on the squally weather that is frequently met with in the channel we will pass over tacking, and reefing, and lying to-and, without any more preamble, bring the ship to anchor off Spike Island, near the Cove of Cork. All bustle again, embarking divers detachments. Facings of black and blue, buff and white, mingled together-stowing of knapsacks, haversacks, hold-alls, well supplied with pipeclay, soap, and tobacco-slinging of hammocks-Scotch, English, and Irish, knocking up against each other-officers making choice of cabins, or berths, as the case may be-second lieutenants disputing with ensigns about priority of rank. This reminds me of a ludicrous affair of two ensigns going out in the same ship, when the senior said to the junior, " If you do your duty, you will find me a very easy commanding officer." But here permit me, for the information of the uninitiated in the arcana of military life, to state that the seniority of date in commission is a matter of no trivial importance aboard a transport, as the junior seldom fails of getting the worst berth.

are rising out of the hold, the hinder pressing upon the leaders. They are staggering about the decks. tising their clammy foreheads; and the drizzly rain has commenced, and the moaning wind is rising a key higher, and the waves sound surlier, and the word is passed, loud and decided, "All hands below but the watch." So the languid wretches descend again into the dark and noisome gulf, groping, sick and tottering, to their hammocks.

The night drearily passes over. With the morning the weather is clearing; but the sun shines ghastly and faintly. Nevertheless, up with the hammocks for airing orderlies of companies attend for the rations -hark! the drum beats all hands to the grog tub— rum diluted with water, to be drunk at the tub, in presence of the orderly officer. Who is for the day? Ensign Muggins. Poor fellow! here he comes, looking very rueful. The smell of the rum is not likely to revive him; he has got hold of one of the ratlings; depend upon it, he will screw" his courage to the

sticking place.

"Well, Muggins, old boy, how are you getting on?" sung out Hopkins, the captain of the day, as his head peered up from the companion-ladder, on a level with beholders that his stomach was no stranger to curry the deck-his face, the colour of saffron, assuring the and rice-in short, that he was an old stager, well backed by a tropical sun, and knowing in all the ways of voyagers.

Muggins; "who could ever have imagined that all "Very seedy, Hopkins, very seedy, indeed,” replied this misery was attached to the army? It was running after castle guard-mounting in Dublin, and field days, that turned my brain-only I was a fool, I should not be here-my stomach feels as if it were turned inside

out."

"Ha ha! ha! my lad, too late-too late to be Master Muggins?" chuckled Captain Hopkins; at grumbling-why did you list? Why did you list, the same time, striking a light, he commenced smoking a cigar, as much as to say, "I bid defiance to sea sickness."

smoke," sighed out Muggins. "I would give fifty pounds I was well enough to

"All in good time," said Hopkins; "you cannot expect to be a sailor in a few hours; but, Muggins, my boy, sick as you are, let me give you a little good advice. There are married officers aboard, and some of them have got daughters; take care of yourself, my boy, for, ten to one, when your sea-sickness goes off, you will get love sick. I have not crossed the line for nothing. An old bird is not caught with chaff. Observe, they will get up dancing when the nights are fair, and round games when they are wet, and get excessively intimate with each other; and before the voyage is over, the half of them will be by the ears, or my name is not Hopkins. But just take a cigar, and blow a cloud; be civil to them, and nothing more. On no account put your heels in a passion with that old paymaster's daughter; you may depend upon it, sir, they have no tin-not a piece. They may know how to draw, but not on the bank. I see they have brought a piano aboard; but I am happy there is no room to put it up. But dancing they will have, if they have nothing but the fifes. But here comes the orderly sergeant. Well, Sergeant Pikestaff, what's the matter?"

"I have brought up Lance-corporal Rooney, sir, for fighting with private Tim Doolan of the ―th, thinking it highly unbecoming conduct, and subversive of military discipline in an acting corporal."

***Ungrateful country of mine, thou shalt not possess my