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me." He departed, and Mademoiselle Agiée with her mother returned to Geneva. Very soon the name of Napoleon became celebrated; and Mademoiselle Agiée, in reading the gazettes, exulted in the successes of her protegé, who, meanwhile, seemed to have entirely forgotten her. Years passed thus away, when sometime before the battle of Marengo, Bonaparte passed through Nyon, a little town of the Canton de Vaud, twelve miles from Geneva, on his way into Italy; he could only stop a few hours ;-he sent an aide-de-camp to Geneva, with orders to enquire for a lady named Agièe, very ugly and old, and to bring her to him; such were his directions. In Geneva, as in all small towns, every body is known, and the aid-de-camp succeeded in finding Mademoiselle Agiée; she was become nearly blind, and very seldom quitted her own house, but the name of her hero seemed to inspire her with new strength, and she hesitated not to follow his messenger. Bonaparte was impatient, and came to meet his friend on horseback, attended by his staff, as far as Versois; as soon as he perceived her carriage, he spurred on to receive her, and the feelings of Mademoiselle Agiée on this rencontre may better be imagined than expressed. "Gentlemen," said Bonaparte, turning towards his suite," you see my benefactress, she to whom I am indebted for life; I was destitute of every thing when she succoured me. I am happy and proud to be obliged to her, and I shall never forget it." Mademoiselle Agiée passed two hours at Nyon with Bonaparte, at the hotel of the Croix Blanche, where he detailed to her all his plans, and, on taking leave of her. repeated the same words he had uttered at Lyons, "You will hear of me." From that hour to the epoch of his coronation, she received of him no token of his existence; but fifteen days before the coronation, General Hullin was announced to Mademoiselle Agiée. He desired her to prepare to accompany him, as Bonaparte was resolved that she should witness his glory; he was furnished with the strictest and most minute orders. Mademoiselle Agiée was permitted to carry nothing with her, beyond what was merely indispensable during the journey; and in spite of her age and her infirmities, the day after the general's arrival, she set out. On arriving at Paris, she alighted at a house in the Place du Carousel, opposite the palace of the Tuilleries; there she found domestics in the livery of Bonaparte, and, in short, a completely furnished mansion: a well stocked wardrobe had been prepared for her, Bonaparte had recollected even her favourite colours, and had omitted nothing he imagined would give her pleasure; she had a long audience of Napoleon; he assigned her, besides a house, carriage, and domestics, maintained at his expense, an annual income of six thousand francs. He continued to preserve towards Mademoiselle Agiée the most marked regard, often consulting her even on the most important affairs. On the fall of Bonaparte, Mademoiselle Agiée lost the house and the advantages he had conferred upon her; but I have reason to believe, that her pension was always regularly paid by the agents of Napoleon, till her death, which happened, I believe, in 1822. It is from herself that I received the details I have given ;-it is easy to imagine with what animation she descanted upon her hero; even without partaking her enthusiasm, it was impossible not to listen to her with interest; besides, noble and generous sentiments belong to our intellectual existence, no matter what country we belong to, or what are our opinions, the emotions of the heart wait not to consult our prejudices. Mademoiselle Agiée died in the Hotel de la Rochefoucald, Faubourg du Roule, at Paris, of which she inhabited a small wing, after having quitted her house in the Place du Carousel.

REMARKABLE DEARTH AND MURRAIN.

The 13 day of March, 1235 (says an ancient record from which this account is taken) the new moon was seen where the change by nature should not have been till the 16th day following, and for the space of fifteen days that then next ensued, the sun, the moon, and stars, appeared of a red colour. And herewith the whole face of the earth seemed as it had been shadowed with a thick mist, or smoke, the wind notwithstanding remaining north and north east. And herewith began a sore drought, continuing a long time, which, together with morning frosts, and northerly winds, destroyed the fruits and other growing things, that were blasted in such wise, that although, at the first, it was a very forward year, and great plenty towards corn and fruit, yet by the means aforesaid the same was greatly hindered, and specially in the summer season, which the sun's heat increased, and the drought still continued. The residue of such fruits as then remained, withered away, so that scarce a tenth part was left, and yet there was indifferent store. For if the abundance

which the blossoms promised had come forward, the trees had not been able to have born the same. The grass was so burned up in pastures and meadows that if a man took up some of it in his hands, and rubbed the same ever so little, it straight fell to powder, and so cattle were ready to starve for lack of meat and because of the exceeding hot nights, there was such an abundance of fleas, flies, and gnats, that people were vexed, and brought in case to be weary of their lives. And herewith chanced many diseases, as sweats, agues, and others. And in the harvest time there fell a great dearth and murrain amongst cattle, and especially in Norfolk, in the fens, and other parts of the south. The infection was such, that dogs and ravens feeding on the dead carcasses, swelled straight ways, and died, so that the people durst eat no beef, least the flesh might be infected.

Also this was noted, not without great wonder, that young heifers and bullocks followed the milch kine, and as it had been calves sucked the same kine. Also apple-trees and pear-tress, now after the time of yielding their ripe fruit, began again to blossom, as if it had been in April. The cause of the death of cattle was thought to come hereof. After so great a drought, which continued from April to July, when there followed plenty of rain, the earth began to yield her increase most plenteously, though not so wholesome as usual: and the cattle, which before were hunger-starven, fed now so greedily of this new grass, sprung up in an undue season, that they were suddenly puffed up with flesh, and such unnatural humours, as bred infections amongst them, whereof they died.

PATHETIC ANECDOTE.

In the confusion while part of the town of Charlestown was in flames, a Scotch soldier, belonging to the regulars, forced his way into one of the houses, where he found in one of the rooms a woman just coming out with her daughter, about five years old, in her hand, to go to her husband's chamber, where he was confined by illness, to assist him in his escape. The mother on her knees, and the little infant, who following the example of her mother, begged that the soldier would spare their lives, they conceiving he intended to murder them. The screams of the mother and daughter reached the room where the husband lay, and though he had been confined for a long time to his bed, he leaped up, and with a drawn sword in his hand, rushed

into the apartment which was the scene of distress, and instantly run it through the body; who though mortally wounded, had just time to turn about to see from whom he received this condign punishment when to his astonishment and confusion, he discovered the person to be his brother, and died. The unfortunate husband had but just time to see his wife lying in a fit, his child running about in a frenzy, and his brother lying dead at his feet: and having cried out, "I have killed my brother!" fell down and died also. The nurse, who had followed her master, had just heard his last words, when she perceived the house in a flame, and running forth, in hopes to get assistance to save this unfortunate family, had just got out of the house, when the roof, which had first taken fire, fell. It was some days before the nurse recovered her recollection, sufficiently to give any account of this fatal event, but it was afterwards discovered that the unfortunate husband had left Scotland seven years before, and gone to settle in England, where he shortly after married much to his advantage, and soon after went to settle at Charlestown, where he lived with great credit, and domestic happiness, till the day of that general confusion.

DREADFUL SUPERSTITION.

At Gnas, a town in the Lower Syria, in the jurisdiction of Gleichenberg, one Charron, a widower, had a daughter arrived to years of maturity, and the young woman transported to the most extravagant degree of superstition and fanaticism, imagined that she could have no hopes of salvation, unless she purified herself by fire. She communicated her intention to her father, who being equally superstitious, approved of her design, and even promised to assist her in carrying it into execution.-All Saint's day was the time appointed for carrying this abominable project into effect. On the preceding evening, the girl herself placed several faggots in the oven; when divine service begun next day, the miserable self-devoted victim set fire to the faggots; and when the oven was red hot, with the assistance of her father, she entered the fiery apartment, the door of which the father closed, and having stopped up the vacancies with clay, tempered with water, placed a crucifix before the oven, and then went out of the house with every appearance of tranquillity and satisfaction, having told some persons whom he met that his daughter was doing penance in the heated oven; they hastened to her assistance, but before their arrival the body was entirely consumed. The father was apprehended, and conducted to Gleichenberg, where he has undergone an examination.

PRESENCE OF MIND.

In the insurrection headed by Wat Tyler, Richard the Second owed the preservation of his life to his intrepidity and presence of mind. In the meeting at Smithfield, when the insurgents saw their leader fall by the sword of the Lord Mayor, Walworth, they drew their bows to revenge his fall. Richard, then only fourteen years of age, gallopped up to the archers, and exclaimed, "What are you doing my lieges? Tyler was a traitor; come with me, and I will be your leader." Wavering and disconcerted, they followed him into the fields at Islington, and falling on their knees, implored for mercy. This mo narch gave several other proofs of his courage at an early age.

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IN 1818, while the King of Naples and Cardinal Gonsalvi were occupied at Rome in giving sumptuous feasts, the Campagna of Rome and the mountains were infested with a great number of Brigands, who devastated the country, and committed the most atrocious crimes. The Sovereign of Rome was not in a condition to send a force to suppress these outrages, because he employed all his revenue in ceremonies and feasts, instead of looking to the security of his people. Wanting arms to repress this nuisance, as had been done by the French Sovereign, who, with some exertion, extirpated the robhers about Rome, Cardinal Gonsalvi resolved to treat with them, offering them pardon, and promising to give them employment according to their abilities. To treat with the robbers, the Bishop of Terracina was employed, who accepted this office very reluctantly, he disliking to treat with persons who deserved to end their lives on a gallows ;-nevertheless he resolved to send a letter to the chief robbers. He did this, giving them to understand that sooner or later they would be taken and executed, or murdered in the mountains, that God was merciful and would pardon them, that he wished them to call to mind, that if they died in that state, they would certainly go to hell; but not to make his letter too long, he proposed to have an interview with them in the mountains above Velleta, if they would give him their word of honour not to injure him, and that he should expect an answer. Among the Brigands there were many of the men, and some of the chiefs, who, when they had read the Bishop's letter, being weary of that sort of unquiet life, always living in fear of death, and having acquired some property, which was safely secured at Spoletto, were resolved to meet him in the mountains, under the condition, however, that he came alone, and they stated that, if his proposals then met their approbation, they would give up their trade; if not, they would continue it, treating with him like crowned kings. On the day appointed, the Bishop repaired to a place mentioned by the Bri

VOL. II.

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gands, without much ceremony, and there he met about sixty of them, alt well armed. When he got in the midst of them, the Bishop said, "I am sure that some among you are leaders, and it would be better that those who are so should come forward, in order that we may confer together with greater ease, and we will settle every thing with each other." After communing with each other a short time, four chiefs advanced, whose names were Barbone, De Angelis, Ma-i socco, and De Cessaris. They had a martial and imposing appearance, and, saluting the Bishop, they all took their seats on the ground. The Bishop began his discourse with a sort of sermon, pointing out to them the criminality of their conduct. The Brigands told him that it was useless for him to say any thing of their condition, because they themselves knew the whole-in one word, they were brigands; it would be better, they said, for the Bishop to confine himself to business, and their interview was solely intended to hear his proposals; if they should be what they could accept they would do so, if not, they would continue their trade. The Bishop pointed out to them that death would not be punishment enough for their crimes; but that the Holy Father, out of his great goodness and mercy, and wishing to reunite to his flock the wandering part of the fold, proposed to mitigate their punishment to five years' imprisonment for the men, and seven years for the chiefs. At hearing this proposal, the Brigands were angry, and getting up, said they would never accept such an offer, and if the Bishop did not speedily take himself off, they would vent their anger and displeasure on him. The Bishop replied with patience, they were masters, that he had only executed his commission, and if they meant to outrage him, he should die a martyr, and would bear it patiently, pointing out to them their criminal situation, and that sooner or later they would come to curse their existence. At hearing this, Barbone, who was not a cruel man, like De Cessaris, having always carried on his trade with some equity, saving many ictims from death, and contenting himself solely with robbery, turned to his companions, and said, "Will you leave the matter to me? I will dictate the conditions we will accept. If the Holy Father, Pius VII. will grant them, we shall all be settled, otherwise we will massacre whoever falls into our hands." De Cessaris, who was not so mild a character, and thirsting for blood, though he was of a good family of Trassade, and had received a good education, turned hastily round to his companions, and said, "My sons, let those who are disposed to follow me, do so; I do not wish for pardon. I have always detested the government of the priests, and I have no greater pleasure than to murder all those who fall in my way;" and he moved off tow rds the mountains. It was no longer possible for Barbone to treat with the Bishop; a movement began among the men; fifty went off and left the Bishop with three chiefs and seven Brigands. The Bishop was unable to speak, and Barbone, resuming his seat, said, "that is nothing; the ten who remain will put ourselves in your power whenever you have accepted our conditions, and we give you our word of honour that we ourselves will go and arrest the others." The Bishop, seeing that there was no other mode of proceeding than too as they proposed, promised to refer their propositions to his Holiness, and that he would do all in his power to obtain their pardon. Barbone said, My companions are contented with what I do, and the conditions are these:-First. As the government cannot pardon us without our being prisoners, in order that the world may be satisfied, we will consent to be shut up six months in the castle of St. Angelo. 2d. We will give ourselves up, and we are not to be escorted by an armed force. 3d. During these six months we are not to have prisoners' fare, but we are to have what we please

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