406 Varieties: Literary, &c. ing compelled, even occasionally, to make our magazine a vehicle of horrors; but it becomes a part of our duty to hand down to posterity accounts, however brief, of certain events which must ever excite astonishment and indignation. We allude to several atrocious murders which have been committed within the short space of a month in different parts of the country, two of which have disgraced our metropolis, and which, in point of malignity and cruelty, can scarcely be paralleled. One, which is the universal subject of conversation, was committed on the evening of the 16th, by a wretch named Dean, on the body of a female infant, four years and a half old, the daughter of two decent persons named Albert, residing near the Elephant and Castle. The murderer (an engraver out of employ, and who had been a soldier) was intimate with the family. He took the child out, on the evening in question, on pretence of buying it some apples, and in a passage close by the residence of its parents, nearly severed its head from its body with his pocket knife. He had always shewn a remarkable fondness for the child. The demoniac, in a day or two after wards, surrendered himself, and made a voluntary confession that he had committed the crime through love! A public-house-keeper's daughter, near Aldgate, having rejected his addresses, he determined to murder her, that his own life might be forfeited; but on reflection, he said he preferred killing the child, because it had less sins to answer for! The other case was that of a Chelsea pensioner, a German, 40 years of age, who delibeerately stabbed his wife because he suspected her of incontinence. A third case of horror may be added to make up the climax. The body of a soldier's wife has just been found in a well at a public-house at Brompton, where it had lain a month, since a part of the regiment was quartered there; it was discovered by the corrupt state of the water, which was constantly used. The husband (an Irishman) gave out that his wife had eloped with another man: he has since deserted. A New Literary Journal, to be entitled the Edinburgh Monthly Review is about to appear. The first number will be published on the 1st of January, 1819, and to be regularly continued. TYPHUS FEVER. Dr. J. C. Smith obtained £5,000 from Parliament, for the following recipe :-R. 6 dr. powdered nitre, 6 dr. of oil of vitriol, mix them in a tea cup by adding to the nitre one drachm of the oil at a time. The cup to be placed during the preparation on a hot hearth or plate of heated iron, and the mixture stirred with a tobacco pipe. The cup to be placed in different parts of the sick-room. INFALLIBLE CURE FOR THE GOUT. Apply a leek-poultice to the affected. part CURE FOR THE JAUNDICE. [VOL 4 Drink plentifully of decoction of car rots. Tincture of goose-grass is an imperial sweetener of the blood. Extraordinary fact in Natural History.-A correspondent, on whose veracity we can rely, assures us, that, on Tuesday last, passing from Ludgatehill to Blackfriars-bridge, at half-past three in the forenoon, by fashionable time, he saw-A DANDY-in full feather from the combed-out head to the boots, and decorated with—a butcher's green apron ! A very worthy clergyman, affectionately attached to his family, was asked by a friend, if his daughter, who was known to be near her confinement, was yet put to bed? Yes,' replied the Doctor, I thank you, she is." "And what is the result?" Why, my dear Sir, (returned the cheerful Divine) she has had her labour for her pains! A boy at school was accused by another, of having secreted or stolen his penknife, and could not persuade him to the contrary. The loser at length determined that the supposed thief should buy him a new one, and told him so; to which the other unthinkingly replied, "Yes, but not till I'm Lord Mayor of London !" Though the boy had then no connexion whatever with the Metropolis, he is now become one of its Aldermen, and more than a year will probably not elapse before he is seated in the Mayoral chair. The other person, the accuser, is still living, and has signified his intention of claiming the fulfilment of the promise.* Since writing the above, remarkable to relate, the subject of the anecdote has suddenly expired. It was no other than Alderman Goodbehere. VOL. 4.] Original Po etry. 407 POE" From La Belle Assemblee, December, 1818. -- TRY. SPL And we waft it away to our realms unseen, ENGLISH Woe to the ear that has heedless heard NO. 11.] Our midnight song of warning! Published half-monthly He shall see his gallant vessel near The boat of the ocean-spider, Its masts shall seem but a May-fly's s pear, But when in the slumber of peace he lies, BOSTON, M That boat to a rock of ice shall rise; From the THE HERMI No. XII. FAIRLY DRIVEN OUT OF TOWN. From the European Magazine, Oct. 1818. THE ARCTIC MOON. [By the Author of Legends of Lampidosa, &e.] W where the cloudy Storm-God hovers, THEN Briorn* sat on the land of ice, Ere the four stars looked from northern skies, Or the sons of the West were rovers, came. For we who live in the bright full moont To take again the spirit of light This adventurer, when found at Spitzbergen by his countrymen, had forgotten his native language, and remembered nothing of his family till his wife's ring was shewn to him. The Arctic Moon often remains a fortnight unchanged. When the gale is mute, and the hour is dark, Shall steer his bark thro' the mists of night, His bark shall pass where the sea-snake's fin V. The Green Serpent of Midgard is supposed to encircle the world. From the Literary Gazette. EXTRACT FROM SOUTHWELL'S POEMS. [Just published.] The Rev. ROBERT SOUTAWELL lived in the age of Elizabeth. In reviving his poems, Mr. Walter has performed a delightful task; for among the Bards of that brilliant reign he shone with no inferior lustre. With much of the general character of the period, fully participating in its peculiarities, often led away by antithesis, and sometimes conceited in the choice of words, there is an overflowing of mind, a richness of imagination, and a felicity of versification in this author, which eminently entitle his productions to the regard of after times. His melancholy life and dreadful fate, too, would spread a deep interest over his works, even were they in themselves destitute of it, which is very far from being the case. Poor Southwell was cast on a stormy epoch, when neither high birth, nor merit, nor innocence, sufficed to save the victims of political and religious contentions. He was of a good family in Norfolk, educated at Doway, and at sixteen entered into the society of Jesuits at Rome. 1584 he came as a missionary into England, became domestic chaplain to Anne countess of Arundel, in which situation he remained till 1592, when, in consequence of some of the violent re-actions of that time, he was apprehended at Uxenden in Middlesex, and sent prisoner to the Tower Here he was confined three years, during which, says Mr. Walter, 408 : Literary, &c. CURE FOR THE JAUNDICE. [VOL. 4. Drink plentifully of decoction of car rots. Tincture of goose-grass is an impe- Extraordinary fact in Natural Hisry.-A correspondent, on whose veicity we can rely, assures us, that, on Tuesday last, passing from Ludgateill to Blackfriars-bridge, at half-past hree in the forenoon, by fashionable ime, he saw-A DANDY-in full feather rom the combed-out head to the boots, and decorated with—a butcher's green pron! 0. tain supposed conspiracies against the g ernment. At the end of this period, h sent an epistle to Cecil, the Lord Treasurer, humbly entreating his Lordship that be might either be brought upon his trial, to answer for himself, or, at least, that his friends might have leave to come and see him. The Treasurer answered," that if he was in such haste to be hanged, he should quickly have his desire.” Shortly after, he was removed to Newgate, tried at Westminster for remaining in Eng land contrary to the statute, convicted, and condemned to death; which sentence was executed at Tyburn on the 21st of February, 1595; when the unhappy sufferer was only in his 35th year. His principal poem is St. Peter's Complaint, which is a perfect exemplification of the characteristics we have ascribed to the poetry of the age of Elizabeth. Replete with thought, redundant in images, antithetical,and strained with a few conceits, it A very worthy clergyman, affectionis altogether an admirable composition. The entire theme is occupied with the self-itely attached to his family, was asked accusations and contrite mourning of Peter by a friend, if his daughter, who was for the crime of having denied his Master. nown to be near her confinement, was Of the minor poems, we are much pleased with the moral and pathetic turn of that et put to bed? Yes,' replied the Doctor, I thank you, she is." "And hat is the result?" Why, my dear Ir, (returned the cheerful :: "UPON THE IMAge of Death.” BEFORE my face the picture hangs. That daily should put me in mind, Do think hereon that I must die. I often look upon a face Most ugly, grisly, bare, and thin; Where eyes and nose had sometimes been; I read the label underneath, That telleth me whereto I must; Continually at my bed's head A bearse doth hang, which doth me tell Though now I feel myself full well; The gown which I am used to wear, Which is my only usual seat; And many of my mates are gone; My youngers daily drop away, And can I think to 'scape alone? No, no; I know that I must die. And yet my life amend not I. Not Solomon, for all his wit, Nor Samson, though he were so strong; No king, nor power ever yet + Could 'scape, but death laid him along. Wherefore I know that I must die, Aud yet my life amend not I. * Wastell reads better' qualis,' +Nor ever person yet." 1 Jocund of heart they seem, in sooth, Oh, 'tis, methinks, a pleasant sight, When neighbours thus are meeting, When ev'ry countenance is bright, And smiles with smiles are greeting. Thrice welcome is the day of rest, And as they leave the house of prayer, And when at home, each breast dilates INSCRIPTION FOR A SUN-DIAL M BY W. C. HARVEY. TORTAL, while the sunny beam, For eternity providing. Winters pass, and springs renew, Youth to pleasure sighs" Adieu," Manhood sinks to hoary age, And a night that has no morning : Hear her dictates, and take warning! No. XII. FAIRLY DRIVEN OUT OF TOWN. Nothing I'll bear from thee, But nakedness, thou detestable town! Timon of Athens. I HAVE a half cousin, about fifty years of age, whose name is Bridget Jones. Her fond mother generally called her Biddy, by which name I beg leave to introduce her to my friends. Biddy was very good looking at twenty; at thirty she fell off a little; at forty, she grew thin, and began to bear marks of disappointment; at fifty she is á skeleton. Between the ages of twenty and of forty, she refused a rich country squire, a poor clergyman, and two other professional men in good practice; she having determined to marry either a lord, a baronet, or a colonel in the army. One of the last description paid her marked attentions; but, as cousin Biddy terms it, "he never explained him self." Since the age of forty no one has ever troubled her, and she now boldly declares her resolution never to marry. She is even grown so squeamish, that she will not take a gentleman's arm, but prefers walking as erect as a serjeant's pike, with her foot-boy behind her, to being linked in the arm even of 3D ATHENEUM, VOL. 4. myself, whose age and grave habits might satisfy her scrupulosity. Biddy was educated at Queen-square boarding-school, but had not been in town for five and twenty years, until the other day, when I received a billet from her to inform me that she had taken a lodging in Bury Street St. James's, in order to be near me, and to be at the same time in the court end of the town. She occupied the first floor; and the second was inhabited by Sir Oliver Oxygen, a Scotch baronet, and a very great speculator. His favourite study was chemistry, and he had sanguine hopes of making his fortune. by it. He lodged in the second floor, in order, as he said, to enjoy more rarified air; but it is rather thought that his main object was to be above the world. Miss Biddy did not much like having a male lodger in the house; but she could rely on her own discretion and on a drop bolt; and she resolved not to be intimate enough to warrant his visiting her; so that she confined their intercourse to sidelong courtesies as they passed upon the staircase. Poor Biddy! the Baronet would not have given a good dinner for her, nor have parted with an atom of potassium or sodium to purchase a groce of ladies like her. The constant fumes however 410 Sketches of English Manners. of nitrous and other gases, the smell of hydrogen, the explosions of inflammable matter, and the rumbling noises of the Baronet by night and by day, very much annoyed my Cousin. At length, one morning early, some hyper-oxygenated muriat of potash exploded with such a report, that it knocked down the Baronet, and broke the windows of the apartment. The landlord and landlady thought that their lodger had shot himself; and Miss Biddy apprehended that the roof of the house was blown off, and that she would be buried in the ruins of the habitation. Self-preservation being the first law of nature, she leaped out of bed, without recollecting that she had not put on her under drapery, so that she was met en chemise by her Landlord and by her own footboy. The disgrace of this the chaste vestal Biddy could not brook. Besides, as she observed, her life was not safe with that Caledonian madman; so she left her lodgings that day most precipitately, and discharged the poor footboy, alleging that she could not bear the sight of him, since her modesty was put to the blush. Miss Jones next took a lodging in New Bond Street. The proprietor occupied the kitchen, the second floor and attics; whilst a Captain in the Guards tenanted three rooms on the ground floor, to wit, a parlour, a bedroom, and a dressing-room. The captain was what my rattle of a guard Cousin calls "in the wind" a good deal; and the knocks of duns and of dissatisfied tradesmen were like a running fire at the door. "I will be paid," vociferated a livery-stable Keeper, one day that I called on cousin Biddy. "I know that he is at home," sternly observed a Horsedealer. "I won't go without my money," said an Hotel-keeper, on a third occasion. "Kick him out!" cried the bold Captain on a fourth. "Let him go and be d-, the tailoring son of a gun." Besides, the Captain was borrowed occasionally; mistakes were made as to their rooms; and one day this hero played Miss Biddy a very slippery trick, as follows. [VOL. 4 Two bailiffs, who did not know his person, slipped into his apartment early in the morning. The Captain was preparing for guard, but had only his dressing-gown on. They came into the room, and inquired his name. The servant took the hint, and winked at his master, who with the utmost coolness said, "Gentlemen, you are in a mistake; the Captain lodges on the first floor, but is not up yet; he came very late home from the masquerade ; but if you call again you will see him." This was just the bait they eagerly ran up stairs; whilst the Captain put on his great coat and slipped out. The myrmidons burst into Biddy's room, and took her for the Captain. The scene was most tragical. When undeceived, they came down to the parlour, which they found locked; and after half an hour's parley, the door was forced, and they discovered in his master's dressing-gown the Captain's valet, who laughed at them immoderately. Miss Biddy swooned three times as she told me; and, when recovered, she again changed her lodgings. "To be thus treated was worse than death," complained she to me. "The monsters! to take me for the Captain, isdeed! I am sure I never had any thing masculine about me!" Her third lodging was in Baker Street. Here she had the misfortune to succeed a famous Lady. Biddy moreover is fond of the innocent amusements of tending her birds, and of trimming and watering her plants.These signs at a window-roses, geraniums, and canary birds, are, I am told, a kind of lure to idle beaux; and as my cousin's great passion is dress, she used to be nodded at behind a rose or a balsam, or taken a side-view of through a bird cage. At all hours, visitors poured in upon her; and such ridiculous scenes occurred, that she was soon beat off her ground there. "Ma'am, I beg your pardon! it cannot be you that I want; but perhaps you have a lodger or a companion," was the language daily used; or, “ Oh! (with a violent laugh) I am mistaken; upon my soul I took you for quite an |