wards: he then surveyed the spectators, who were in amazing numbers, even upon masts of ships in the river; and pulling out his spectacles read a treasonable speech, which he delivered to the Sheriff, and said, the young Pretender was so sweet a prince, that flesh and blood could not resist following him; and lying down to try the block, he said, "If I had a thousand lives, I would lay them all down here in the same cause." He said, if he had not taken the sacrament the day before, he would have knocked down Williamson, the lieutenant of the Tower, for his ill usage of him. He took the axe and felt it, and asked the headsman, how many blows he had given Lord Kilmarnock; and gave him three guineas. Two clergymen, who attended him, coming up, he said, "No, gentlemen, I believe you have already done me all the service you can." Then he went to the corner of the scaffold, and called very loud to the Warder, to give him his periwig, which he took off, and put on a night-cap of Scotch plaid, and then pulled off his coat and waistcoat and lay down; but being told he was on the wrong side, vaulted round, and immediately gave the sign by tossing up his arm, as if he were giving the signal for battle. He received three blows, but the first certainly took away all sensation. He was not a quarter of an hour on the scaffold; Lord Kilmarnock above half a one. Balmerino certainly died with the intrepid. ity of a hero, but with the insensibility of one too. As he walked from his prison to execution, seeing every window and top of house filled with spectators, he cried out, "Look, look, how they are all piled up like rotten oranges!" My Lady Townshend, who fell in love with Lord Kilmarnock at his trial, will go nowhere to dinner, for fear of meeting with a rebel-pie; she says, everybody is so bloody-minded, that they eat rebels! The Prince of Wales, whose intercession saved Lord Cromartie, says he did it in return for old Sir W. Gordon, Lady Cromartie's father, coming down out of his death-bed, to vote against my father in the Chippenham election. If his Royal Highness had not countenanced inveteracy like that of Sir Gordon, he would have no occasion to exert his gratitude now in favour of rebels. His brother has plucked a very useful feather out of the cap of the ministry, by forbidding any application for posts in the army to be made to anybody but himself: a resolution. I dare say, he will keep as strictly and minutely as he does the discipline and dress of the army. Adieu ! P. S. I have just received yours of August 9th. You had not then heard of the second great battle of Placentia, which has already occasioned new instructions, or, in effect, a recall being sent after Lord Sandwich. Mrs. Hannah More to Mr. Knox. MY DEAR SIR, September 26, 1818 My friendship for Mrs. La Touche and yourself is by the length of time, the convictions of my understanding, and the affections of my heart, become so established, so much a part of myself, that it would be incapable of declension even without any overt act on the part of either of you. So agreeable a flapper as your kind letter was, however, such a quickener of my feelings, that it was matter of no small regret that I have been till now physically incapable of answering it. About three weeks ago, my sister and myself were each suddenly seized with a violent attack of fever, from which we are, through the mercy of God, recovering, though very gradually. We are still confined to our chambers, and are not allowed to see any one. I believe my own illness was partly caused by too great excitement, from an influx of company, chiefly strangers, but sent recommended by friends. You will not be sorry to hear that the last work our lamented princess read during her pupilage, (as her preceptor the bishop himself told me,) and the last she read before her death, was the one written expressly for her, in which you took so kind an interest. It was very kind and condescending in the bishop to say that he considered "The Hints" as rather intended for the teacher than the pupil, and had availed himself of them accordingly. I should not mention this but to you, who will be pleased to hear that the book, as to her, was not written altogether in vain. I remember that my dear old friend Dr. Johnson once asked me, "What was the greatest compliment you could pay to an author?" I replied, "To quote him.""Thou art right, my child," said he. Now, your remembering and citing two passages from poor unworthy me, at the distance of twenty years, did really gratify me. I wish I could show Mrs. La very curious presen. I have just received from Sir Alexander Johnstone, the Chief-Justice of Ceylon; it is one of my "Sacred Dramas" written upon palm-leaves, in the Cingalese language, the cover most beautifully painted and enriched. He writes me that the "Essay on St. Paul," &c. &c. is translated and about to be published in the Tamul and Cingalese, partly on paper, partly on palm-leaves, and that he proposes to publish most of my writings in all such of the country languages as are generally understood throughout India. Forgive this egotism. I agree with you, my dear sir, that the Epistle of St. James has left a subject for a fine practical commentary. Why don't you take it up yourself? It is worthy of you, and would be peculiarly in your own way. You would not only treat it morally, but holily. I want to see St. Peter also taken up in a new way. It may sound odd to use that term, but I can not help calling his a character almost dramatic; his warm affections, his undoubting confidence, his repeated falls, his fervid repentance, the forwardness of his feelings, the failure of his resolutions, the inconceivably piercing look cast upon him by his Divine Master, the consolatory message, not sent to the bcloyed John, but to the swearing, protesting denier, the "Go, tell Peter!" How touching are all these particulars! When I was very young, and learning Spanish, I translated a little poem, called "Las Lagrimas de San Pedro." I have lost the translation, and know not where I found the original. Dear Mr. Jebb kindly sent me his valuable Dublin Sermon; but continual interruptions, and the dry and insipid task of oonverting commas into colons, and turning topsy-turvy letters upright, through (I blush to say it) eighteen volumes, for a new general edition, has made me very deficient in the pleasant duties of friendship. We were delighted with a short visit from him and his very interesting friend Forster, who revived a little my long-forgotten delight in the. Tuscan muse. When you see my favourite Robert Daly, assure him of my kind remembrance. I had a message from Judge Daly and his nieces, declaring an intention to visit us, before my illness, but I have not yet seen them. I say the less about because I trust she will go halves in this ill-written scrawl. As long as I shall remember anything, I shall remember her virtues and her kindness; I shall love her general goodness and her particular goodness to me. I can not say all I think of and feel for her. Adieu, my dear sir; with my sister's best regards, believe me ever, Your faithful and obliged P. S. I venture to send you an epitaph, written for the daughter of a dear friend, though it is not worth your reading: but Mrs. L. will tolerate it; it is meant for her. EPITAPH ON MISS G (AGED EIGHTEEN.) So fair, so young, so gentle, so sincere, |