to two or three padres, who lived near. They immediately inflamed her wild imagination by their countenance, and gave public weight to the notion, by affirming that her soul would ascend to heaven on a certain day. Contributions were accordingly talked of for forming an establishment for Santa Harmonica, the name of the female. The priests, were, of course, to have the administration of the funds. Good Friday was the appointed day for the consummation of this important event. The machinery had hitherto worked well, and her exhausted appearance, from continual fasting, warranted the conclusion that her dissolution was near. It was a subject of general interest, and being introduced where the Ouvidor was present, on the evening preceding the intended conclusion of the drama, he stated that he had no faith in any thing so ridiculous; and in the event of the female's death, he would summon an inquest on the body. A friend or coadjutor of the priest was present; he left the party, and hastened on horseback to communicate this determination of the Ouvidor to the holy brethren. An effect, very contrary to the expectations of her devoted worshippers, was thus produced. She speedily recovered from her saintly indisposition, and remains, if not in mental, at least in bodily health to this day. It was ascertained to have been the intention of the priests, founded on the wicked purpose of deriving advantage from the contemplated establishment of Santa Harmonica, to have produced, by such means, a gradual exhaustion of life by the appointed time.

CURIOUS MODE OF RECLAIMING A WIFE.

The duke of Guise was married to a princess of Cleves, a woman of great beauty, who was suspected to shew too much complaisance to a certain person about the court of Catherine de Medicis, named St. Mairin. The queen had invited, on a particular day, the principal ladies of the court to a ball, at which each of them was to be attended by the young noblemen of the court, who were to be dressed in the liveries of their mistresses. The duke of Guise begged his dutchess not to go, urging that, although he did not doubt her honour, her attendance would only increase calumny and slander. The dutchess pleaded "the queen's invitation," &c. She succeeded, and went to the entertainment, which lasted till five in the morning, when she returned home, and went to bed. She had scarcely lain down, when the duke entered the room, followed by an old servant, who carried in his hand a small basin of broth. The duke locked the door, and approached the bed, saying very deliberately and resolutely, "Madam, although you would not follow my counsel last night, you shall follow it now. Your dancing has heated you; you must drink this broth." The dutchess suspecting poison, refused. She cried, entreated, begged, and prayed. The duke was firm. She then solicited for five minutes' interview with her confessor. The duke was not to be moved; she drank the broth. Immediately the duke withdrew, locking the door, and taking the key. In about four hours after, the duke paid her another visit, and with an affected smile, said, Madam, I fear you have passed some very unhappy hours since I left you; I guess you have been in constant dread of the effects of what I had administered to you; judge then of all the unhappy hours you have made me pass, in similar doubts and fears. However, take comfort; you have nothing to fear; nor, I will hope, have I. Let us both, in future, avoid such tricks, and consult each other's peace."

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TERRIFIC REGISTER.

THE DISMAL SWAMP OF NORTH AMERICA.

EVERY different part of the globe is characterized by some natural phenomenon. One place presents the beauties of subterranean caves and grottos; another the sublimity of rocks and mountains, or the tremendous fall of rushing cataracts; whilst the eye is regaled in some other districts with the soft peaceful vale, the tranquil lake, and the promise of abundant harvests.

The extensive continent of North America combines most of the various features of the gradations in climate, with numberless objects of admiration to the naturalist peculiar to itself; amongst these may be classed the Dismal Swamp, a morass of an extent unequalled in any part of the known globe. It reaches from Albemarle Sound in North Carolina to the neighbourhood of Portsmouth, on the opposite side of the harbour to Norfolk, and is supposed to contain about 250 square miles, or 150,000 acres.

Some of the interior parts of this vast swampy plain have been seldom explored, the research being full of the utmost perils and dangers; yet some adventurous huntsmen have been found hardy enough to pursue their game within its precincts, although they cannot advance far without great risk of forfeiting their lives to their temerity.

Mr. Janson, a late traveller, relates that in one of his excursions, he was often knee-deep; though in other parts the ground supported him firmly. In endeavouring to pass one of these fenny spots, he attempted to avail himself of a bridge formed of the body of a very large tree; when to his great surprise he was immersed in dust, to the waist; the tree having become rotten, or probably gutted by insects though it retained its shape and appearance of solidity. Wild beasts lurk in this almost impenetrable recess; cattle also stray there, and often become wild. Hogs are turned into it by their owners to fatten upon the acorns that fall from the oaks. Near the centre of this dreary tract is situated Lake Drummond, or as more properly called, the Lake of the Dismal Swamp, which is formed by the drainings of the immense

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bog. It is crowded with fish of various kinds, which living unmolested, attain a prodigious size. Its surface is generally calm, being sheltered by trees of a lofty size, which grow in abundance on its borders. The solitude and dangers of this place have given rise to various stories of the most romantic description, that may have been strengthened by the vapours which are continually exhaling from the marshy ground. An anecdote of this kind is currently related by the few inhabitants that dwell near this gloomy tract, and which gave occasion to a beautiful ballad written by Thomas Moore, under the title of "The Lake of the Dismal Swamp." A very strong attachment was formed by two young natives, who dwelt in the neighbourhood of the swamp. When the death of the female interrupted the felicituous prospect which had opened to their view, this event made such an impression on the mind of her lover, that he lost his senses. His mind became absorbed by her image; and familiar with the scenery of the place, he imagined that she was still alive, and dwelt upon this lake. Determined to find her on whom his soul was fixed, he went in pursuit of her; and, as he was never seen afterwards, it is supposed that he perished in some of the dangerous morasses that environ it. The poem may be found in Moore's works, and the images are so appropriate, and the sentiments so pathetic, that the perusal of it will gratify every reader of taste.

It is not however in the current traditions of the spot or in the lays of the poet, that we can look for a true description of the terrific dangers of this wild and gloomy morass;-this can only be found in the journals of the candid traveller of modern day, whose adherence to truth may be depended upon. Mr. Janson, who penetrated farther into the swamp than any predecessor had done, gives us the most authentic account of the Dismal Swamp, and we have every reason to think that his observations may be relied on. He penetrated a considerable way into it on horseback, with a negro for his guide, who traced out the road by the notches cut on the trees. A singular adventure and miraculous escape from danger, which occurred to him, is so interesting, that we shall transcribe it in his own words. "I," says Mr. Janson, "carried my gun in my hand, loaded with slugs, and some more ammunition slung across my shoulder. About midway, and nearly two hundred yards before me, I saw a large quadruped nimbly climb a tree. The negro, looking in a contrary direction, did not perceive the motion; and eager to fire, I did not inform him. We went a foot's pace, and when within gun-shot, I discovered the beast through the foliage of the wood, and immediately fired. The shot took effect, and my astonishment was great to see a monster of the species of the tiger, suspended by his fore-feet from the branch of a tree, growling in tones of dreadful discord. The negro was greatly terrified; and my horse, unused to the report of a gun, fired from his back, plunged, and was entangled in the mire. Losing the reins, I was precipitated into the morass, while the negro vociferated, "Massa, massa, we are lost!" Recovering, I beheld the ferocious brute on the ground, feebly advancing towards us. By an involuntary act, I presented my empty gun; at the sight of which, conscious, no doubt, that the same motion had inflicted the smart he felt, the creature made a stand, gave a hideous roar, and turned into the thickest part of the swamp, while, in haste and agitation, I reloaded my piece. The poor slave, whose life to him was as dear as mine could be to me, held up his hands, and thanked the god he worshipped for his deliverance. I was unconscious of the danger I had courted, till he told me that the beast I had encountered was a panther, larger than any he had ever seen despoiling his master's flocks and

TERRIFIC REGISTER.

herds; and that pursued by man, these animals rally with great ferocity. Had I been apprised of this, I should have sought my safety in flight, rather than have begun an attack; but I conjectured the creature to be of no larger dimensions than a wild cat, when I fired."

NO GHOST.

The celebrated Marshal Saxe, having arrived with a part of his army at a village where they were to pass the night, purposed sleeping in an apartment in an old castle, which had been long neglected, and was believed to be haunted by spectres, whose nightly yells were often heard by those who dwelt beneath its walls. It was not to be supposed that a warrior like Marshall Saxe was to be terrified, by such reports, from taking possession of his destined chamber. He accordingly went to bed at his usual time; but had not been long asleep, before he was awoke by the most horrid noise his ears ever heard; and while he was endeavouring to recollect himself, the door of his chamber opened, and a human figure of very large dimensions appeared at the side of his bed. The marshal instantly discharged his pistol at the supposed spectre, which appeared to strike him, as he fell on the floor; he then rose from his bed, and aimed a stroke of his sabre at the figure: but the blade found a resistance, and shivered in his hand. At this moment the apparition rose, and beckoned the general to follow; he obeyed the summons, and attended him to a long gallery, where a trap-door opened, and they sunk into a cavern, which communicated with a subterraneous apartment, occupied by a band of coiners, one of whom, clad in complete armour, traversed the castle every night, to deter every person from inhabiting it. It thus appeared that the steel had resisted the ball, and shivered the marshal's sword; but the villain was knocked down by the force, from which, however, he quickly recovered. Marshal Saxe, with his usual presence of mind, told them who he was, and laid before them the danger of detaining him, when he had a surrounding army, who would dig to the centre of the earth to find him; but, at the same time, gave them an assurance, that if they would conduct him back to his chamber, he would never relate the history of that night while it could do them harm. The coiners paid a ready obedience to his will, and he kept his word with them, till a subsequent discovery of their retreat gave him full liberty to relate this extraordinary story.

FORTITUDE OF MADEMOISELLE CAZOTTE.

Mademoiselle Cazotte was the only daughter of a gentleman, who, at the commencement of the revolution, was seventy-two years of age; and being closely connected with the intendant of the civil list, was from that circumstance unfortunately involved in his fate; for letters of M. Cazotte's were found in La Porte's possession, and the writer of them was sent to prison with his amiable child.

To Mademoiselle, in a few days, liberty was offered; but she refused it, and obtained permission to remain confined; and the affectionate zeal she manifested for her father, united to the eloquent persuasions that she used, so far interested the Marsellois (who were quartered in the prison) in his favour, that they unanimously determined to preserve his life. Though the ill-fated old man's death was thus unexpectedly prevented through the filial attachment of

his amiable child, yet his savage persecutors allowed him but a short enjoyment of existence; for, on the second of September, they again demanded his life. Mademoiselle Cazotte, hearing her father's name vociferated by voices which appalled every feeling by their sound, instantly rushed out amongst the group of murderers, and undauntedly answered to the name. Her extreme youth, beauty, and courage struck with astonishment the sanguinary band; and Cruelty itself remained some moments doubtful whether she should fulfil oppressive Tyranny's command. "What hast thou done to be here with thy daughter?" said one of the foremost to the ill-fated Cazotte. "You will find that by the jailor's book," replied the prisoner, which informed them, that, for being a counter-revolutionist, Cazotte was detained. Scarcely was the report circulated among them, than the axe was raised over the unfortunate man's head; which his daughter perceiving, uttered a shriek of horror, and throwing herself upon him, concealed him from their sight.

"Strike, barbarians!" said she, disdaining supplication;" for you cannot reach my father, but through the passage of my heart!" At this astonishing proof of filial affection, hearts which had been strangers to compassion, felt the force of nature's ties; and a shout of "Pardon! Pardon!" issued from the mouths of the surrounding multitude, and was re-ecohoed by the general voice. The Marsellois instantly opened a passage for them, and the old man retired under the cover of his sacred shield! What a tribute was offered to the social affections! What a transition can exalted virtue produce in the heart! Even barbarism itself seemed to acquire civilization; ferocity became gentleness; and the oppressors were subdued!

After the institution of the criminal tribunal, Cazotte was again destined to feel the force of tyrannic power; again was he arrested, and dragged to a prison; and again, in spite of all his entreaties, accompanied by his child.

In the company of you, my father," said this amiable daughter," the most cruel of assassins I have faced; and shall I not be the companion of your new misfortune, in which there is much less cause for dread or alarm? The hope of saving your life will again support me; and I will shew to your judges a forehead furrowed with age. I will ask them if a man, who has but a few days to linger out among his fellow creatures, may not find mercy in the eyes of justice, after having avoided the perils which you have escaped? I will inquire if he, whose white hairs could excite pity in the breasts of assassins, could not create it in the hearts of magistrates, where mercy ought to reside? The voice of nature will plead, and you will be liberated." "Oh!" said the unfortunate father, "deceive not yourself, my child!"

Though Cazotte at length agreed that his daughter should accompany him to prison, yet the keeper positively refused to let her in; and, agonized at this unexpected disappointment, she instantly flew to the commune, and by the force of tears and supplications, at length had the satisfaction of obtaining consent. Night and day were spent in filial affections, and in endeavours to fortify her father's mind, except those hours she was trying to induce his judges to preserve his life.

When the period arrived which was to decide the destiny of the oppressed and unfortunate Cazotte, he appeared before the tribunal, supported by his daughter, whose interesting appearance excited general applause! Previous to that mock ceremony, which was falsely termed a trial, Cazotte had lain injunctions on his daughter not to speak; but as they proceeded, the variations of her countenance expressed more than the most eloquent tongue could reveal. Breathless from fear, and pale from apprehension, in all the