being pressed with direct threats, he burst into tears, and addressing Hyder in his own language, “If you consider me," said he, "base enough to write such a letter, on what ground can you think so meanly of my father? It is in your power to present me before the ramparts of Vellore, and cut me into a thousand pieces in my father's presence; but it is out of your power to make him a traitor." The threats were, however, renewed by the attendants in a separate tent, but being found ineffectual, the child was remanded to the quarters of the other prisoners. Wilk's Sketches of the South of India. EVILS KNOWN TO ARISE FROM A LONG PEACE. THE continued peace, which produced a rage for dress, equipage, and magnificence, appeared in all forms of riot and excess; corruption bred corruption. The industry of the nation was not the commerce of the many, but the arts of money traders confined to the suckers of the state; and the unemployed and dissipated, who were every day increasing the population in the capital, were a daring petulant race, described by a contemporary as persons of great expence, who, having run themselves into debt, were constrained to run into faction, and defend themselves from the danger of the law. These appear to have enlisted under some shew of privilege among the nobility, and the metropolis was often shaken by parties, calling themselves roaring boys, bravadoes, roysters, and bo naventures. Such were some of the tur bulent children of peace, whose fiery spirits, could they have found their proper vent, had been soldiers of fortune, as they were younger brothers, distressed often by their own relatives, and wards ruined by their own guardians. All these were clamorous for bold piracies on the Spaniards: a visionary island, and a secret mine, would often disturb the dreams of these unemployed youths in the pacific reign of James the First; such felt— "In this plenty And fat of peace, our young men ne'er were train'd "To martial discipline, and our ships unrigg'd, Rot in the harbour."-MASSINGER. The idleness which rusts quiet minds, effervescences in fiery spirits pent up together, and the loiterers in the environs of a court surfeiting with peace, were quick at quarrel. It is remarkable that in the pacific reign of James I. never was so much blood shed in brawls, nor duels so tremendously barbarous. Hume observed this circumstance, and attributes it to "the turn that the romantic chivalry for which the nation was formerly so renowned, had lately taken." An inference probably drawn from the extraordinary duel between Sir Edward Sackville, afterwards Lord Dorset, and Lord Bruce. These two gallant youths had lived as brothers, yet could now resolve not to part without destroying each other; the narrative, so wonderfully composed by Sackville, still makes us shudder at each blow received and given. Books were published to instruct them by a system of quarrelling, "to teach young gentlemen when they are before-hand, and when becited those youths of hope and promise, hind-hand." Thus they incensed and inwhom Lord Bacon, in his charge on duelling, calls, in the language of the poet, often were drowned in their own blood! Aurora filii, sons of the morning-who But, on a nearer inspection, when we discover the personal malignity of these hasty quarrels, the coarseness of their manners, and the choice of weapons and places, in the mode of butchering each other, we must confess that they rarely partake of the spirit of chivalry. One gentleman biting the ear of a Templar, or switching a poltroon Lord; another sending a challenge shirts to mangle each other, were sanguinto fight in a saw pit, or to strip to their ary duels, which could only have fermented in the disorders of the times, amidst that wanton, pampered indolence, which made them so petulant and pugnacious. His Majesty published a voluminous edict exhibiting many proofs that it was the labour of his own hand, and some magnificent periods, whose structure discovers they were formed to his own ear; for the same dignity, the same eloquence, the same feli, city of illustration, embellish the state papers. Even against this evil James, who Vide The Guardian. rarely consented to shed blood, condemned an irascible lord to suffer the ignominy of the cord. But while extortion and monopoly prevailed among monied men, and hollow magnificence among the gentry, bribery had tainted even the lords. All were hurrying on in a stream of venality, dissipation, and want; and the nation, amidst the prosperity of the kingdom in a long reign of peace, was nourishing in its breast the secret seeds of discontent and turbulence. Of the prevalent vices of the age, not one was the King's; his infirmities were not those of extortion, bribery, or pomp; he lived without shew, and could not afford to maintain a court. The evils of those Juxuriant times were of quick growth; and as fast as they sprung up the father of his people encountered them by his proclamations that, during those long intervals of parliamentary recess, were to be enforced as laws but they passed away as morning dreams over a happy but a thoughtless and wanton people.-D'Israeli's Inquiry into the Literary and Political Character of James I. : he lay wedged in the bottom of this rugged, deep, and narrow cleft: nearly one half of his body was plunged in ice-water, and such was the depth of it that he could not see its bed: with his arms extended on the broken and melting ice, he awaited approaching death. You may picture his situation; but the horrors of his mind must have been for ever confined to his own breast. He was almost yielding to the excess of his sufferings, and was commending his soul to the divinity, when the voices of his companions fell upon his ears; and, as they spoke, they lowered the bandages which they fastened together. Although dying a few moments before, the hopes, the near prospect of deliverance, gave him energy and courage, and he was enabled to fasten the bandage around his body. His friends drew him gently from the chasm-he was approaching the verge of the precipice-he had almost embraced his deliverers, when the bandage broke, and he again sunk. If deliverance was almost hopeless before, what was now poor Stoeri's situation! one half of the bandage had fallen with him-his blood was freezing, the second shock had almost rendered him insensible; and, to consummate the terrors of his situa AFFECTING ADVENTURE OF GASPAR STOERI, AND TWO OF HIS KI FRIENDS. GASPAR STOERI, and two of his friends, were one day chasing chamois on Mount|tion, and for the extinction of the last faint Limmeren. While they were traversing the snows with that confidence which the idea of perfect safety inspires, Stoeri sunk into a deep abyss of dissolving ice. His friends were horror-struck; they conceived that instant death awaited him, or that he would survive only to contemplate its slow but inevitable approach, pierced as he was by cold, bruised, bleeding, motionless. Despairing of success, they yet reflected on the means by which they might effect his deliverance: they could not leave him to perish; their struggles to save him would, for a few moments, assuage their agony. They fled to the nearest cottage, which was three miles distant, to procure ropes; none were to be found a wretched counterpane was the only thing which could prove useful to them; they cut it into strips, and hurried from the cottage. Poor Gaspar was almost perishing when they returned to the brink of the chasm: spark of hope, one of his arms was broken by the fall. What less than a miracle could save him? With sinking hearts his friends renewed their endeavours to preserve him the bandage in their hands was again cut, and lowered into the chasm. Can you conceive the pain and distress with which poor Gaspar made one last and desperate exertion to save himself, when I inform you that with one arm he supported himself from sinking, and that with the other, broken as it was, he twisted the bandage round his body, and fastened it? He was thus drawn to the summit of the precipice a second time, and life was ebbing fast from him as he fainted iu the arms of his companions. Gaspar's friends conveyed him to his cottage; but it was very long before his health and cheerfulness were restored to him. A Walk through Switzerland, in 1816. AFFLICTIONS OF ROYALTY. so, as a balance mercifully given, he perceives not now the public woe; he hears not, understands not, what, in his bright days, would have wrung his soul with the bitterest anguish-for he was benevolence itself. May angels quiet the slumbers of the amiable monarch! If his illusions continue, may they be pleasing. Where truth is rudely chased away, may innocent and delicious error feed the soul, like a delightful dream that cheats the tediousness of the night, and makes pain and wretch CAN we close without casting a melancholy look on our aged and venerable sovereign? No, we cannot forget him, rendered sacred, as it were, by his deep misfortune. Yes, my brethren, our love hovers round the confined and mournful abode of him whose range was once a great kingdom. We look back on what he was and what he did; and our regret and our sighs attend him as if he were dead. In an ideal world of his own he is far removed from the knowledge of this general cala-edness to be forgotten.-Extract from a mity. As the songs of triumph and vic- Sermon preached at St. Enoch's, Glasgow, tory, and of his kingdom's glory, that lately on the funeral of the late Princess Charlotte, rose loud to heaven, could not reach him, by the Rev. Dr. Taylor. TOPOGRAPHICAL MUSEUM.-No. XVI. it. The Park is eight miles in circumference. The town runs up the hill for a mile. The church is a plain brick building, but the bridge is of stone, and has five semicircular arches. In the summer a small Theatre is opened for the entertainment of the inhabitants, and which has served as a kind of school to many of our minor performers. RICHMOND. This village, which, from its beauty and salubrious situation, has been justly styled the Montpellier of England, was once called Sheen, or Shining. Queen Elizabeth had a palace in this place, and it was long a favourite residence of our English monarchs. Edward III. died here, of grief, as it is supposed, for the loss of his son and companion in arms, Edward the Black Prince. Though our virgin Queen was once a captive at Richmond, she was still fond, in the days of her freedom, to make it her favourite residence, and in this place she resigned her breath. Some relics of her royal dwelling are yet standing. That which is called Cholmon-placed in it the table whereon he wrote deley House covers a part of the ground whereon her palace stood; it now belongs to the heir of the late Duke of Queensberry's inheritance. In the Old Park formerly stood a lodge in which Cardinal Wolsey withdrew when he was disgraced. It was afterwards granted on lease to the Duke of Ormond, who repaired it, and made it his residence till he was impeached. In the place where it stood is now an Observatory, built by George III. iu 1768. Richmond Park was formerly called the New Park, to distinguish it from that near the Green, and was enclosed by Charies I. Sir Robert Walpole often used to hunt in it; and his son built the elegant lodge, with wings of brick, which now stands in Thomson, the celebrated author of the Seasons, resided at a house called Rosedale House. The Hon. Mrs. Boscawen, when she became its inhabitant, had the poet's favourite seat in the garden repaired, and his verses. Amongst other inscriptions the following is placed in the center :— "Within this pleasing retirement, allured by the music of the nightingale, which warbled in soft unison to the melody of his soul in unaffected cheerfulness, and genial, though simple elegance, lived JAMES THOMSON Sensibly alive to all the beauties of nature, he painted their images as they rose in review, and poured the whole profusion of them into his inimitable Seasons. Warmed with intense devotion to the Sovereign of the universe, its flame glowed through all his compositions; animated with unbounded benevolence, with the tenderest, 80cial sensibility, he never gave one moment's pain to any of his fellow creatures, save only by his death, which happened at this place, ou the 27th August, 1748.” BRENTFORD-Famous for a battle fought between the royal and the parliamentary troops during the civil wars. It takes its name from an ancient ford over the Brent, which, after receiving the Grand Junction Canal, falls into the Thames at this town. A very ancient bridge crosses the river. In the time of Edward I. a very heavy toll was laid on all the Jews, both male and female, whose business obliged them to pass over it; persons professing any other religion went free. Brentford is divided into Old and New; each has a chapel which supplies the want of churches. This town is generally the scene of much riot and confusion when parties run high at the Middlesex elections. here built for himself a superb mansion near the water side, now called Brandenburgh House. The descendants of Sir Nicolas sold it to Prince Rupert, who be stowed it upon his mistress, Mrs. Hughes, a celebrated actress. When it, in aftertimes, became the property of Lord Melcombe, he improved it by modern embellishments, and built a spacious gallery for marbles and antiques. The late Margrave of Anspach was the last purchaser; and the exquisite taste of the Margravine is amply displayed in all the state apartments. The drawing-room is hung with white satin bordered with Prussian blue in a gilt In ancient times Brentford gave title to frame. At the upper end is a regal chair, an Earl, and in 1558, six Protestants sufover which is suspended a fine picture of Frederic the Great, of Prussia, the Marfered martyrdom there: it has been rendered famous of late years for having long grave's uncle. The chimney-piece is of been the residence of the excellent and milk-white marble, representing the union pious Mrs. Trimmer, to whose moral works of Isis with the Thame. Near the side of the rising generation are so much indebted. || the Thames the Margravine had erected a CHISWICK.-This place is embellished tasteful and elegant Theatre, in which she with several very elegant villas, particu- was frequently conspicuous, both as a larly that of the Duke of Devonshire: it writer and a performer. was built by Lord Burlington, in the Italian taste, in imitation of one of the chefs d'auvres of Palladio. It is shaded in front by the cedars of Lebanon; and the decorations of its interior are superb; the cielings and mouldings of the apartments are richly gilt on a white ground, and the walls adorned with the finest paintings of the Flemish and Italian schools: very few of the apartments are there but what are furnished with book-cases all round; these are made chair-high, and their tops are covered by beautiful Carrara marble, with gilt edges. CHELSEA. This village is on the border of the Thames, yet may be said to commence at Hyde Park corner; and it takes in a considerable portion of Knightsbridge : the church of Chelsea is, however, two miles from London. A noble Hospital has been founded here for invalid soldiers, the honour of which institution is attributs ed to Mrs. Gwynn, the mistress of Charles the Second. It is a handsome brick edifice, ornamented with stone, having two priu. cipal fronts, one towards Hyde Park, the other towards the river. The former is very simple, but before it is a very extensive The gardens are laid out in the Italian area, planted with avenues of trees. The style, and are adorned with temples, obe-front next the Thames is very elegant. lisks, and statues. The house has been lately enlarged by two convenient wings it was before rather two small for the residence of a nobleman. Lord Hervey wittily || remarked of it, before this enlargement, that it was too small to live in, and too large for the trinket of a watch. The design of this Hospital was the work of Sir Christopher Wren: its interior is simply elegant. The infirmaries are a pattern of neatness, and have the accommodation of hot, cold, and vapour baths. The gardens are not well laid out; all in strait lines, with two paltry kinds of canals. The ashes of many illustrious dead repose The whole Hospital, with its appendages, in a neat plain church; amongst whom covers above forty acres of ground. The are those of Charles Holland, an eminent pensioners, who are above three hundred actor; Sir John Chardin, famous for his in number, wear a military uniform of red travels in Persia; and William Hogarth, lined with blue: they mount guard and the celebrated painter-satirist. perform other garrison duty. There are, HAMMERSMITH. Sir Nicolas Crispell besides, an unlimited number of out-pen sioners, who receive an annual allowance Duchess of Mazarine, the beautiful Hortenfrom government. sia Mancini, one of the most lovely women of her time. The Physic, or Botanical Garden, at Chelsea, was commenced by the Company of Apothecaries, in 1673, and patronized by Sir Hans Sloane. The Water Works were constructed in 1724, when the persons concerned in that undertaking obtained a charter of incorporation. A canal was then dug from the Thames, near Ranelagh, a place formerly celebrated for a pleasant evening lounge, where concerts were performed while people of rank and fashion used to walk and converse, take tea and coffee, and listen to the music. The canal ends at Pimlico, where there is a steam engine to raise the water into pipes, which convey it to Chel- || sea, Westminster, and the adjacent parts. Amongst other charitable institutions, that of the Duke of York's Military School confers the highest honour on its royal founder: it is for the children of soldiers, who not only learn proper discipline to qualify them for the army, but are also put apprentices to different trades, as their genius seems most to point. The celebrated Chancellor Sir Thomas More, resided at Chelsea, as also did the KENSINGTON. On the great western. road, about a mile aud a half from Hyde Park corner, stands Kensington; where is to be seen an ancient mansion of great celebrity, called Holland House: it is the manor house of the Abbots of Kensington, and takes its name from the Earl of Holland. It is a fine specimen of the architecture of the beginning of the seventeenth century. When it came into the possession of the Earl of Holland, he improved, without modernizing it. Addison, by his marriage with the Countess of Warwick and Holland, became its possessor, and under this roof he breathed his last sigh. It was afterwards purchased by Lord Holland, the father of the celebrated Charles Fox. William III. purchased the mansion called Kensington Palace: it now belongs to her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales. The Gardens are too well known to need any particular description; they form a very fashionable promenade on the Sundays of spring, from three o'clock to half past four. MORE WONDERS! OUR last chapter of wonders gave a feelings? What a piercing doubt for a fond faint outline of Melandria's serene enjoy-parent-but partiality could not blind his ments, when, adapting her pursuits to her years, she gracefully resigned trivial pretensions to admiration to secure unquestionable claims to esteem and deference. understanding, his upright veracity of judgment. Since the death of his wife, when Olivia was twelve years old, his sister, a widow lady, presided in his family. Mrs. Stanwix, a well bred, well disposed To acquaint our readers with the character of Melandria's nephew, Mr. Hamp-woman, was unhappily deficient in firmden, we must return several years, to the epocha when he became a patient of our most celebrated modern Esculapius. The first autumn after his return from India, the approach of a cold season so greatly affected Hampden's health that his aunt hastened with him to London. The fiue disposition, the talents, the acquirements of Hampden gained the affections of his enlightened and worthy physician. He thought with himself that such a husband would be a greater blessing to his Olivia than the hand of a Duke; but would Olivia make happy a man of sense and delicate No. 109.-Vol. XVII. ness of character; but till Olivia became the attraction of circles who consume life in sporting with the brilliant bugatelles of fashion, the foibles of Mrs. Stanwix passed without notice. Dr. Bryant had gained a large fortune by the most honourable exercise of his profession, Olivia was beautiful and innocent as a seraph, gay as a lark, and thoughtless as a fawn in her native wilds. A dashing Countess, with insinuating condescension, obtained such ascendency, that while our Esculapius had every moment engrossed in chasing disease from all ranks, in palaces, castles, mansions, Y |