155 alarms occasioned by chimneys being on fire, amounting in all to 552 accidents of this nature. The offices calculate on an alarm of fire every day, and about eight serious fires in every quarter of the year.

HENRY VIII. AND HIS PEERS.

When we advert to early parts of the history of this country, we cannot but be thankful to heaven for the progress of just principles, and the security we derive from the laws. In the reign of Henry VIII. that monarch wanted to carry some mea sure through the house of lords, contrary to its wishes. The peers hesitated in the morning, but consented in the afternoon. Some of their body waited on him to in form him thereof, when the tyrant made reply, "It is well you did it, or by this time half your heads would have been upon Temple Bar."

FEMALE SHERIFFS AND JUSTICES. Nicholas, earl of Thanet, was succeeded by his next brother John, the fourth earl, born 7th August, 1638. He also succeeded his mother Margaret, countess of Thanet,

as

baron Clifford, Westmoreland, and Vescey, who by her last will, dated June 19, 1676, gave the Yorkshire and Westmoreland estates to this John for life; she died the 14th August following, and he then succeeded her in the sheriffdoms of Westmoreland and Cumberland, where it frequently happened that female heiresses became possessed of them.

There are several instances of women bearing that office, as may be seen in most of the treatises in which that duty is mentioned. Those things required by it, not proper to be undertaken by a female, were intrusted to a deputy, or shire clerk.

Not only the office of sheriff, but even justice of peace, has been in the hands of the fair sex. Among the Harleian manuscripts is a very remarkable note, taken from Mr. Attorney-general Noy's readings in Lincoln's-inn, in 1632, in which, upon the point whether the office of a justice of a forest might be executed by a woman, it was said, that Margaret, countess of Richmond, mother to Henry VII., was a justice of peace; that the lady Bartlet was made a justice of peace by queen Mary in Gloucestershire; and that in Sussex, one Rouse, a woman, did usually sit upon the bench at assizes and sessions among the other justices, gladio-cincta, girded with a sword. It is equally certain, that Anne, countess of Pembroke, exercised the office of hereditary

sheriff of Westmoreland, and at the assizes of Appleby sat with the judges on the bench, which puts this point beyond 2 question. SAM SAM'S SON.

WOMEN.

It is the opinion of Mr. J. P. Andrews, that antiquarians are by no means apt to pay great attention to the fair sex. He says,

"Their Venus must be old, and want a nose."

He instances, as among those who have "set themselves most warmly" against fe. males, old Antony & Wood, whose diary affords some specimens of grotesque dislike.

Page 167. "He" (sir Thomas Clayton) and his family, most of them womankind, (which before were looked upon, if resident in the college, a scandal and abomination thereunto,) being no sooner settled," &c. than "the warden's garden must be altered, new trees planted, &c. All which, though unnecessary, yet the poor college must pay for them, and all this to please a woman!" P. 168. "Frivolous expenses to pleasure his proud lady."

P. 173. "Yet the warden, by the motion of his lady, did put the college to unneces sary charges and very frivolous expenses. Among which were a very large lookingglass, for her to see her ugly face and body to the middle, and perhaps lower."

P. 252. "Cold entertainment, cold reception, cold, clownish woman.'

P: 257. "Dr. Bathurst took his place of vice-chancellor, a man of good parts, and able to do good things, but he has a wife that scorns that he should be in print. A scornful woman! Scorns that he was dean of Wells! No need of marrying such a woman, who is so conceited that she thinks herself fit to govern a college or a university."

P. 270. "Charles lord Herbert, eldest son of Henry, marquis of Worcester, was matriculated as a member of Ch. Ch. Ætát 16. natus Lond. I set this down here, because the father and ancestors were all catholics, but because the mother is a pres byterian, a Capel, she (against the father's will, as it is said) will have him bred a protestant; so that by this change the catholics will lose the considerablest family in England, and the richest subject the king has."

Selden, too, is cited as an antiquarian inattentive to gallantry.

"It is reason," says he, "a man that

will have a wife should be at the charge of her trinkets, and pay all the scores she sets on him. He that will keep a monkey it is fit he should pay for the glasses he breaks."

But ladies can, if they please, retaliate severely. A gentleman who had married a second wife, indulged himself in recurring too often in conversation to the beauty and

virtues of his first consort.

CASUALTIES OF THE ANCIENTS.

To the Editor.

ever, barely discernment enough to discover that the subject was not an agreeable one to his present lady. "Excuse me, madam," said he, "I cannot help expressing my regrets for the dear deceased.""" Upon my honour," said the lady, "I can most heartily affirm that I am as sincere a mourner for her as you can be."

DOWER.

There was an absolute necessity for providing a dower for the widow in the thirteenth century, because women at that period had no personal fortune to entitle them to a jointure by way of marriage. Shiernhook, and all the writers upon the ancient laws of the northern nations, 'dwell much upon the morgengavium; i. e. the present made by the husband to his wife the morning after consummation. It is singular, therefore, that we have no traces of such a custom. In the Philippine islands, a certain proportion of the dower is paid to the intended wife after liberty of conversing with her; à greater share for the permission of eating with her; and the balance upon consummation.*

SANS CHANGER. For the Table Book.

;

The maiden, with a vivid eye,
Whose breath is measured by her sigh;
The maiden, with a lovely cheek,
Whose blushes in their virtue break
Whose pulse and breath would die unblest
If not by changeless Love carest ;-
"Tis she that gives her partner's life
The perfect and the happy wife
Sans changer.

If choice be true, she proves a friend
Whose friendship fails not to the end;
She sweetens dear affection's power
That lasteth to life's parting hour:
Her heart beats that her love might go
Through every pang her Love's could know,
And yields its latest throb, to give
Truth to that heart she loves, to live
Sans changer.

Gemelli, vol, v. Napoli, 1708.

Anacreon, according to Pliny and Valerius Maximus, was choked with the kernel of a raisin, and Tarquinius Priscus with a fishbone; the senator Fabius with a hair; and the very sight of a physician in a dream, frighted Andragorus out of his life. Homer, Rutilius, Rusciacus, and Pomperanus were overwhelmed with grief. Zeuxis and Philemon died with laughing; the one at the picture of an old woman which himself had drawn, the other at an ass eating of figs. Polycryta,* Philippides, and Diagorus were carried away with a sudden joy; and the tyrant Dionysius and Sophocles by excessive triumph at the news of a victory. The bald head of Eschylus cost him dearly; for an eagle hovering over it mistook it for a stone, and thinking to break an oyster upon it, gave him a mortal wound.† Archimedes was killed by a soldier, as he was making diagrams in the sand; and Pindar, in the theatre, by his repose as he lay on the knees of his dear Theoxenus. Į

Like the people in Pliny, we pay tribute for a shadow. Every age, condition, and family has its peculiar evils. Cares and sorrows intermingle with our possessions and gratifications. We taste myrrh in our wine; and while we crop rosebuds to crown our heads, we prick our fingers. We do not so properly enjoy our pleasures, as suffer them.

"The portion of man is like that of a rose, which at first is fair as the morning, when it newly springs from the clefts of its hood, and full with the dew of heaven as the fleece of a lamb; but when a ruder breath has forced open its virgin modesty, and dismantled its retirements, it begins to decline to the symptoms of a sickly age; it bows the head and breaks the stalk, and at night having lost some of its leaves, and all its beauty, falls into the lap of noisome weeds."§

For the Table Book.

THE SOLDIER'S RETURN.

A FRAGMENT.

The sound of trumpet, drum and fife
Are fit for younger men,

He seeks the calm retreat of life,
His Mary and his glen.

Many days and nights the wounded soldier travelled with his knapsack and stick to reach his native place, and find solace in the bosom of his relatives. The season merged into the solstice of winter, the roads were bad, his feet were tender, and his means were scanty. Few persons in years could have borne the fatigue and hardships he endured; but if he could find his wishedfor Mary, he trusted all would be well-his spirit could not break while the hope of his earliest attachment survived. He had fought hard in the conflict of the battle-field-the conflict of love had not smoothed his "wrinkled front." He trudged onward, and persevered till he reached the cottage of his nativity. It was humble but neat. He drew the latch, crossed the threshhold, and entered the domicile. An elderly female was lying on a bed. Her niece sat by the bedside reading to her. The maiden rose, and, putting the book aside, questioned his name and business. He threw down his knapsack; he caught the countenance, though faded from its youth, like his, of his dear, bedridden Mary, and, clasping his hands with hers, sat many hours reciting his history, and listening in tears to her afflictions, occasioned by his roving dispo sition. He now, to make reparation, seasoned her hopes by promises of final rest with her till their suns should set together in the sphere of earthly repose: for Mary was the only person living of all his once numerous companions in the Glen

This singular being, who in every thing, but his extraordinary powers of memory and calculation, is almost idiotic, was born at Buxted, in Sussex, in 1785, and has followed the occupation of a labourer. He is ignorant in the extreme, and uneducated, not being able to read or write; and yet he can, with facility, perform some of the most difficult calculations in arithmetic. The most extraordinary circumstance, how ever, is the power he possesses of recollecting the events of every day, from an early period of his life. Upon being asked, what day of the week a given day of the month occurred? he immediately names it, and also mentions where he was, and what was the state of the weather. A gentleVOL. II. 46.

man who had kept a diary, put many questions of this kind to him, and his replies were invariably correct. Watson has made two or three tours into Hampshire, Wiltshire, Gloucestershire, and Somersetshire, and has exhibited his singular powers in the principal towns in those counties; is familiar with every town, village, and hamlet in Sussex, can tell the number of churches, public-houses, &c. in each. The accompanying portrait, drawn by Mr. S. W. Lee, of Lewes, will give a correct idea of this singular individual. Phrenologists, who have examined George's skull, state the organ of numbers to be very strongly developed.

Garrick Plays.

No. XL.

[From "Fatal Jealousy," a Tragedy, Author unknown, 1673.]

Servant. You are by it now, my Lord. Ger. This accident amazes me so much, I go I know not where,

Doubt.

Doubt is the effect of fear or jealousy,
Two passions which to reason give the lye;

of Gipseys.

1st Spectator. By this we see that all the world's a

cheat,

Whose truths and falsehoods lie so intermixt,

And are so like each other, that 'tis hard

To find the difference. Who would not think these

people

A real pack of such as we call Gipseys?

2d Spect. Things perfectly alike are but the same; And these were Gipseys, if we did not know How to consider them the contrary:

So in terrestrial things there is not one

But takes its form and nature from our fancy, Not its own being, and is but what we think it. 1st Spect. But Truth is still itself?

2d Spect. No, not at all, as Truth appears to us; For oftentimes

That is a truth to me, that's false to you;

So 'twould not be, if it was truly true.

How clouded Man

Doubts first, and from one doubt doth soon proceed
A thousand more, in solving of the first!
Like 'nighted travellers we lose our way,
Then every ignis fatuus makes us stray,
By the false lights of reason led about,
Till we arrive where we at first set out:
Nor shall we e'er truth's perfect highway see,
Till dawns the day-break of eternity.

Apprehension.

O Apprehension !

So terrible the consequence appears,

It makes my brain turn round, and night seem darker.
The moon begins to drown herself in clouds,
Leaving a duskish horror everywhere.
My sickly fancy makes the garden seem

Like those benighted groves in Pluto's kingdoms.

Injured Husband.

Wife (dying.) Oh, oh, I fain would live a little longer,
If but to ask forgiveness of Gerardo!

My soul will scarce reach heav'n without his pardon.
Gerardo (entering). Who's that would go to heav'n,
Take it, whate'er thon art; and may'st thou be
Happy in death, whate'er thou didst design.

Gerardo; his wife murdered.

Ger. It is in vain to look 'em,* if they hide; The garden's large; besides, perhaps they're gone. We'll to the body.

* The murderers.,

And jealousy is love lost in a mist.

Both hood-wink truth, and go to blind-man's-buff,

Cry here, then there, seem to direct enough,
But all the while shift place; making the mind,

As it goes out of breath, despair to find;

And, if at last something it stumbles on,

Perhaps it calls it false, and then 'tis gone.
If true, what's gain'd only just time to see
A breachless play, a game at liberty;
That has no other end than this, that men
Run to be tired, just to set down again.

Owl.

hark how the owl

Summons their souls to take a flight with her, Where they shall be eternally benighted.

[From the "Traitor," a Tragedy, by J. Shirley by some said to have been written by one Rivers, a Jesuit; 1635.]

Sciarrah, whose life is forfeited, has offer of pardon, conditionally, that he bring hu sister Amidea to consent to the Prince v unlawful suit. He jestingly tries her affec tion.

Sci.if thou could'st redeem me
With anything but death, I think I should
Consent to live.

Amid. Nothing can be too precious

To save a brother, such a loving brother
As you have been.

Sci. Death's a devouring gamester,

And sweeps up all ;—what think'st thou of an eye? Could'st thou spare one, and think the blemish recom

penced

To see me safe with the other? or a hand-
This white hand, that has so often
With admiration trembled on the lute,

Till we have pray'd thee leave the strings awhile,
And laid our ears close to thy ivory fingers,
Suspecting all the harmony proceeded
From their own motions without the need
Of any dull or passive instrument.—
No, Amidea; thou shalt not bear one scar,
To buy my life; the sickle shall not touch
A flower, that grows so fair upon his stalk:
I would live, and owe my life to thee,
So 'twere not bought too dear.

Amid. Do you believe, I should not find
The way to heav'n, were both mine eyes thy ransom!

• Breathless?