says, from his Lordship's dictation. But here is another letter from the Archdeacon of the diocese, who assures me that the old man was not expected to live. I can hardly repeat what he adds--Poor dear uncle! may Heaven lengthen his days! The Chapter seem to have turned their eyes towards me, and-pugh! it cannot bebut the Electors, according to the Archdeacon, are quite decided in my favour." "Well," said Don Julian, "all I regret is the interruption of our studies; but I doubt not that you will soon wear the mitre. In the mean time I would advise you to pretend that illness does not allow you to return directly. A few days will surely give a decided turn to the whole affair; and, at all events, your absence, in case of an election, will be construed into modesty. Write, therefore, your despatches, my dear Sir, and we will prosecute our studies at another time."

truth, must be given to my uncle, my father's own brother, who has had but a small living for many years; he is much liked in Santiago, and I should lose my character if, to place such a young man as your son at the head of the Chapter, I neglected an exemplary priest, so nearly related to me."-"Just as you please, my Lord," said Don Julian; and began to prepare for the journey.

The acclamations which greeted the new Archbishop on his arrival at the capital of Galicia were, not long after, succeeded by an universal regret at his translation to the see of the recently conquered town of Seville. "I will not leave you behind," said the Archbishop to Don Julian, who, with more timidity than he showed at Toledo, approached to kiss the sacred ring in the Archbishop's right hand,* and to offer his humble congratulations," but do not fret about your son. He is too young. I have my mother's relations to provide for; but Seville is a rich see; the blessed King Ferdinand, who rescued it from the Moors, endowed its church so as to make it rival the first cathedrals in Christendom. Do but follow me, and all will be well in the end." Don Julian bowed with a suppressed sigh, and was soon after on the banks of the Guadalquivir, in the suite of the new Archbishop.

The

Two days had elapsed since the arrival of the messenger, when the Verger of the church of Santiago, attended by servants in splendid liveries, alighted at Don Julian's door with letters for the Dean. The old prelate was dead, and his nephew had been elected to the see, by the unanimous vote of the Chapter. The elected dignitary seemed overcome by contending feelings; but, having wiped away some decent tears, he assumed an air of gravity which almost touched on superciliousness. Don Julian addressed his congratulations, and was the first to kiss the new Archbish op's hand. "I hope," he added, "I may also congratulate my son, the young man who is now at the University of Paris; for I flatter myself your Lordship will give him the Deanery, which is vacant by your promotion.". "My worthy friend Don Julian," replied the Archbishop elect, "My obligations to you I can never sufficiently repay. You have heard my character; I hold a friend as another self. But why would you take the lad away from his studies? An Archbishop of Santiago cannot want preferment at any time. Follow me to my diocese: I will not for all the mitres in Christendom forego the benefit of your instruction. The deanery, to tell you the is kissed, with a bending of the knee, by those who

Scarcely had Don Julian's pupil been at Seville one year, when his far extended fame moved the Pope to send him a cardinal's hat, desiring his presence at the Court of Rome. crowd of visitors who came to congratulate the prelate, kept Don Julian away for many days. He at length obtained a private audience, and, with tears in his eyes, entreated his Eminence not to oblige him to quit Spain. "I am growing old, my Lord," he said: 66 I quitted my house at Toledo only for your sake, and in hopes of raising my son to some place of honor and emolument in the church; I even gave up my favourite studies, except as far as they were of service to your Eminence. My son- "No more of that, if you

* Catholic bishops wear a consecrated ring, which approach them.

please, Don Julian," interrupted the Cardinal. "Follow me, you must; who can tell what may happen at Rome? The Pope is old, you know. But do not tease me about preferment. A public man has duties of a description which those in the lower ranks of life cannot either weigh or comprehend. I confess I am under obligations to you, and feel quite disposed to reward your services; yet I must not have my creditors knocking every day at my door: you understand, Don Julian. In a week we set out for Rome."

With such a strong tide of good fortune as had hitherto buoyed up Don Julian's pupil, the reader cannot be surprised to find him, in a short time, wearing the papal crown. He was now arrived at the highest place of honour on earth; but in the bustle of the election and subsequent coronation, the man to whose wonderful science he owed this rapid ascent, had completely slipped off his memory. Fatigued with the exhibition of himself through the streets of Rome, which he had been obliged to make in a solemn procession, the new Pope sat alone in one of the chambers of the Vatican. It was early in the night. By the light of two wax tapers which scarcely illuminated the farthest end of the grand saloon, his Holiness was enjoying that reverie of mixed pain and pleasure which follows the complete attainment of ardent wishes, when Don Julian advanced in visible perturbation, conscious of the intrusion on which he ventured. "Holy Father!" exclaimed the old man, and cast himself at his pupil's feet: "Holy Father, in pity to these grey hairs do not consign an old servant-might I not say an old friend?—to utter neglect and forgetfulness. My son—” "By Saint Peter!" ejaculated his Holiness, rising from the chair, "your insolence shall be checked-You my friend! A magician the friend of Heaven's vicegerent!-Away, wretched man! When

I pretended to learn of thee, it was only to sound the abyss of crime into which thou hadst plunged; I did it with a view of bringing thee to condign punishment. Yet, in compassion to thy age, I will not make an example of thee, provided thou avoidest my eyes. Hide thy crime and shame where thou canst. This moment thou must quit the palace, or the next closes the gates of the Inquisition upon thee."

Trembling, and his wrinkled face bedewed with tears, Don Julian begged to be allowed but one word more. "I am very poor, Holy Father," said he: "trusting to your patronage I relinquished my all, and have not left wherewith to pay my journey.-"Away, I say," answered the Pope; "if my excessive bounty has made you neglect your patrimony, I will no farther encourage your waste and improvidence. Poverty is but a slight punishment for your crimes."-"But, Father," rejoined Don Julian, "my wants are instant; I am hungry: give me but a trifle to procure a supper to-night. To-morrow I shall beg my way out of Rome."- "Heaven forbid," said the Pope, "that I should be guilty of feeding the ally of the Prince of Darkness. Away, away from my presence, or I instantly call for the guard."-" Well then," replied Don Julian, rising from the ground, and looking on the Pope with a boldness which began to throw his Holiness into a paroxysm of rage, "if I am to starve at Rome, I had better return to the supper which I ordered at Toledo." Thus saying, he rang a gold bell which stood on a table next to the Pope.

The

The door opened without delay, and the Moorish servant came in. Pope looked round, and found himself in the subterraneous study under the Tagus. "Desire the cook," said Don Julian to the maid, "to put but one partridge to roast; for I will not throw away the other on the Dean of Santiago."

The supernatural machinery employed in the preceding tale, or the supposition that by some means unknown the human mind may be subjected to a complete delusion, during which it exists in a world of its own creation, perfectly independent of time and space, has a strong bold on what might be called man's natural prejudices. Far from there being any thing revolting or palpably absurd in such an admission, the obscurity itself of the nature of time and space, and the phenomena of the dreaming and delirious mind, are ready to give it a colouring of truth. The success, indeed, of the tales which have been composed upon that basis, proves how readily men of all ages and nations have acknowledged, what might be called, its poetical truth.

Original Anecdotes, Literary News, Chit Chat, Incidents, &c.

ISLAND OF TRISTAN DA CUNHA.

2.

"This is my writing after I had taken six lessons from Mr. Crowquill." Thus we may observe, that by improving in writing, pupils also improve in spelling by the same process of instruction.

Etymology." Why are doctors called physicians, mamma?" said a little inquisitive girl to her mother, who had just been visited by one of these. "Physician, (replied Mamma, who was seldom at a loss for an answer) comes from fee-seek, as the doctors ride about all day to seek fees."

Pun.-A visitor to Surgeons' Hall lately remarked, when shown a number of dwarfs, monsters, &c. preserved in alcohol and other preparations, "Well, I never thought that the dead could be seen in such animal spirits.”

The Painter.-A troublesome sitter to

A New Colony.-It has been discovered, that the island of Tristan da Cunha, which lies in south lat. 87. 6. west long. 11. 44. and which was never known to have been peopled before the year 1816, has now upon it, living in great happiness, twenty-two men and three women. The Berwick, Captain Jeffery, from London to Van Diemen's Land, sent her boat ashore on the 25th of March, 1823. The sailors were surprised at finding an Englishman of the name of Glass, formerly a corporal in the artillery, and the rest of the abovementioned population. Glass gave so favourable an account of the island, which is only nine miles in diameter, that it may be of importance to vessels, on their passage to Van Diemen's Land, to touch there: they will be sure of a most favourable reception. There are on the island great plenty of pigs, goats, potatoes, cabbages, &c. abundance of fish, and excellent water. This little colony had at the time upwards of 30 tons of potatoes to dispose of. The island is very fertile, in fact, in every thing desirable to settlers; and Glass declared, that if they had but a few women more, the place would be an earthly paradise. He is a sort of GovEpitaph.-In a Sussex church-yard ernor at Tristan da Cunha, by the ap-ed by a disconsolate widower: appears the following Epitaph, inscrib"Here pointment of the rest, on account of his lies the body of Sarah, wife of John military character; and he trades in a who died 24th March, 1823, aged small schooner to the Cape of Good Hope, with the oil of the sea-elephant and the skins of the seal, which they catch in great abundance. There is a mountain upon the island, 8500 feet in height: the crew of the Berwick saw it at the distance of 50 miles. They intended to take on board part of the product of the island, but were obliged to make sail, as the breeze became very fresh.

an eminent portrait painter, puzzled himself and plagued the artist in determining whether he should be painted on pannel or canvas. "But how would you have me drawn?" he at last asked the irritated man of talent. On wood, Sir, (roared the latter;) such a fellow as you ought to be drawn on nothing but a hurdle.'

forty-two years.

"The Lord giveth, and the Lord TAKETH AWAY; blessed be the name of the Lord!"

HORRIBLE FANATICISM IN 1824. For several days written notices des

patched round the country, intimated that a miracle was to have been wrought, on Friday, by the Rev. John Carroll, Roman Catholic curate of Ballymore. On that day he visited Henry Neale, of Killinick, who was lying dangerously ill of apoplexy. He said the man was troubled with devils he jumped on him several times, and cried out to the people to keep him in of the evil spirits. Such was the effect of prayer, in order to dispossess the sick man his operations upon Peggy Danby, that she fell to the ground in hysterics; upon which Mr. Carroll jumped off Neale's body, and

:

seized the woman in a violent manner, al

leging that she was full of devils, at the

same time calling on Jesus to assist him in

expelling them. He trampled on the unfor

tunate woman, broke several of her ribs, and left her for dead, and then observed he would go and bury the devils he had secured. The blood was gurgling in the woman's throat, and some of the superstitious wretches who were looking on, exclaimed that they "saw the devils come out of her mouth!" The priest proceeded to the bridge of Assailly, and on his return said "he had buried the reptiles of hell!" He then went to the house of Robert Moran and struck his wife so repeatedly that when he left her she was scarcely able to speak, and her head was swelled to a shocking degree. The next house he visited was that of Thomas Sinnot, nailor (accompanied all this time by at least fifty persons.) The devil-killer asked the servant for her mistress, who told him that she was not at home, but that she would go for her. Mrs. Moran appeared. He asked her for some refreshment. At this time a child (a fine little girl between three and four years of age) then in bed, began to cry; he consulted his Breviary, and immediately affirmed that there was a devil in the child. Pursuing the same course which he did with Neale, he jumped into the bed, and on the body of the infant! The father of the little infant entered at the time-the child piteously cried out, "Oh save me! save me!" which he was proceeding to do, but some of the miserable fanatics present actually held him back! It may be asked who was holding the mother of the child? No one-she was as free as any of the spectators, and like them had a full conviction that her child was, as the Priest had stated, "possessed" and that he was performing a miracle to drive out the evil Spirit! Nay, the infatuated mother was not only without restraint as to any relief she might have been inclined to have afforded her infant, but actually assisted the priest in the performance of this horrible work! He ordered her to get a tub of water and some salt; these she instantly procured. The innocent sufferer lay bleeding and insensible in bed; he poured the contents of the tub upon her; and as the water mingled with the stream of life, he cried out with enthusiasm to those around him, "Behold a miracle! I have turned the water into blood:" He then turnthe tub upon his victim-the edge of it coming upon the child's neck, mercifully completed the tragedy, by putting an end to its sufferings! Having desired the parents of the child not to allow any one to come into the room nor to touch the child till his return, he departed to Wexford. His directions were religiously obeyed and the besotted parents anxiously awaited his arrival. Next day (Saturday) the Priest's eldest sister called at Sinnot's, and told them to be contented, that their child would be quite well on her brother's return!

Dr. Devereaux, who attended Mr. Carrol for the last three years, visited him a few hours previously to the occurrence in question, and considered him insane. The next evening he found him in a high state of

insanity. No individual can for a moment entertain a doubt that Mr. Carroll acted throughout under the influence of insanity. Surprise, of course, vanishes as respects his conduct; but how shall we designate that of the spectators who surrounded him, some of whom lent their aid to the furtherance of his designs, and all of whom full of that reverential awe with which theRoman Catholic peasant looks upon a clergyman of his communion, placed implicit faith in the propriety and efficacy of the wild and dreadful proceedings of the unhappy maniac! Who would have thought that such fanaticism existed in any port in this kingdom?

An inquest was held on the body of the unfortunate innocent, when the above horrible particulars were fully proved by the father of the child, and other witnesses, in consequence of which the Jury came to the following verdict:" We agree, that the child, Catherine Sinnot, deceased, came by her death in consequence of the violence she received from the Rev. John Carroll, as adduced by the evidence. Signed for self. and fellow jurors.

"RICHARD SYLVESTER, Foreman."

DIED,

In London, Mr. LUKE WHITE.-Mr. White rose by slow degrees, from being the poorest, to be the richest man in Ireland.In 1778, Mr. Warren, of Belfast, kept one of the most respectable and extensive bookshops in Ireland. His circulating library was, perhaps, at that time, the largest in the kingdom. Luke White was then an itinerant bookseller, with a small bag, and still smaller capital. He called on Mr. Warren in the course of business, and purchased from him some of his cast-off novels, and broken sets, as well as a few ballads and penny pamphlets. He displayed, in his dealings with Mr. Warren, the greatest honesty and punctuality, and was, on more than one occasion, credited by him to the amount of two or three pounds! We have not been able to trace out where he lodged; but we suppose it must have been in no very respectable domicile, as he found it safe and desirable to deposit his bag, "his all," nightly, in Mr. W's shop; and, next morning, when the clerks opened the concern,

he resumed his burden and his toilsome occupation. To think that behind Mr. Warren's counter should have been deposited, in a greasy linen bag, the property of a ragged pedlar, the very beginning of such wealth as Mr. White lately bequeathed !— The lean-visaged philosopher, "with spectacles on nose," and a world of anxious doubt and care reposing in every furrow of his wrinkled brow, peeps, with a palpitating heart, in his crucible, to see whether his chemical discoveries and experiments have produced that long sought-for substance, whose touch turns to gold; but not more anxionsly, we are sure, than did Luke White con over the bundles of Chevy Chace, and the Fair Matilda, which Mr. Warren's shopmen supplied him with-the

paltry profits from which, were to be in creased to two millions sterling! At this time Mr. Robert Hodgson, father to the highly respectable Mr. J. Hodgson, book seller, of this town, lived in North-street.Luke White was in the habit of calling on him, to get some of his workmen to patch up the broken binding of the second-hand purchase. To erase from the title-page the word "vol," to scrape out the same at the end of the book-to mend its crazy joints-to polish up its worn-out sides-to yellow its edges, and to make it pass upon the less learned, in those matters, as a complete work, "little used," is a portion of duty well known to the speculators in library rubbish. We are to suppose that Mr. White, with the aid of the bookbinder, was not behind others in his trade. The best and usual mode adapted to getting off works of this description is, by auction.There is then no time to examine into the merits of what is put up, or to collate over its signatures; "going, going," and as the auctioneer tells his auditory, that the like advantage will never occur again, the gaping multitude "taking the ball on the first hop," and the book goes off at a good value. Mr. White was also aufail at this branch of bis business; and was in the practice of selling by auction his pamphlets and imperfect volumes, in the public streets of Belfast. On these occasions, he used to borrow a three-legged stool from Mr Hodgson, to elevate himself above his literary congregation; and, as if the smiling goddess, who led him through pleasant walks to a bank of wealth, had determined to flirt with her own freaks, she changed the three legs of the stool, in the common street, to three seats in the Commons' House! His future history is well known. The know!edge he thus acquired of public sales, procured him the situation of clerk to an auctioneer, in Dublin. He opened a small book-shop, became eminent in that line, sold lottery tickets, and speculated in the funds. By stock-jobbing and contracting for government loans he was enabled to bequeath, at his death, 30,000l. a-year, and 100,000/. in money and securities. This remained after the enormous sum of 200,000l. expended upon elections.

THE WASP.

Almost every person must have seen the establishment made under ground by the common wasp. It is a kind of subterraneous city, which at certain seasons of the year contains many thousands of inhabitants, and is constructed nearly with the same ingenuity and elegance as that of the domestic bee. Like it, it is internally form ed with combs consisting of a number of hexagonal cells, all enveloped under one common covering, like coarse paper which is constructed with great art. In this particular they excel the common bee, which contents itself with the cover afforded by the hive, or with the trunk of a rotten tree, in their wild state. Though the wasps gencrally make choice of some large hole under

ground for the construction of their nest, they have nevertheless much labour to undergo in removing protuberances, and carrying away earth till it is brought to that spherical figure which suits their purposes. This work completed, they next construct that paper-like covering with which the whole hive is lined. The combs in which the cells are lodged next claim their attention. These are ranged horizontally in different stories, sometimes twelve or fifteen above each other, all supported by colonades, between which the whole citizens of this subterraneous commonwealth are seen to walk, like men in the streets of a town.

The cells of the wasps are not constructed with that geometrical skill which has been so often admired in those of the bee; but they are not on that account the less adapted to the purposes they are destined to serve. Each comb has only a single range of cells, with their mouths opening below. They are intended, not for the re. ception of honey, but for the habitation of the young, which are fed twice or thrice a day, by the morsels carried in by their parents. For the more commodious reception of their food, each of the larvæ has its head turned downwards, opposite the mouth of its cell, ready to receive its meal when offered. There are, however, many varieties in the construction of wasp-hives, all suited to the views of the different species who inhabit them. Some have only a single row of cells, placed vertically, like those of the bee, and the mouths facing the sun. The reason of this variety seems to be, that some kinds require the heat of the sun to hatch their eggs; an advantage which could not be obtained were there more rows of cells, or were they placed in a different

NEW WORKS.

Remains of Robert Bloomfield, 2 vols. f. cap 8vo. 12s.--M'Dermott's Beauties_of Modern Literature, 8vo. 14s.-Salvo's Reflections upon the late Revolutions in Eu rope, 8vo. 7s. French; 7s. English.-Letters from Colombia, 8vo. 8s.-Bayford's Life of Wolf, 8vo. 7s.-Westmacott's British Gallery of Painting and Sculpture, Part I. 8vo. 12s. -Hullmandel on Drawing on Stone, imp. 8vo. 15s.-Bentham's Book of Fallacies, 8vo. 12s.-Pope's Works by Roscoe, 10 vols. 8vo. 61.-The Hermit in Edinburgh, 3 vols. 12mo. -Combe's Elements of Phrenology, 12mo. 4s.-Rational Amusements, 18mo. 2s. 6d.10s. 6d--Mary and her Mother, 18mo. 2s. 6d-Smith's Caroline and Zelite, 12mo. 4s.