removed to No. 19, St. Andrew's-square, where Henry Brougham, who has since risen by the pure force of genius to a distinction equally honourable to himself and the country which gave him birth, first saw the light.

Anecdotiana.

THE LATE DUKE OF YORK AND THE SOLDIER'S GOOSE.-The day after the battle of Alkmaer, his Royal Highness the late Duke of York, who had taken no sleep the preceding night, sat down upon the rising bank of a windmill to rest himself. He soon saw a soldier with a piece of provision in his hand, the smell of which had reached him. The Duke bid one of his attendants to see what the soldier had. The latter came, and it was a goose, about three parts plucked, and roasted at a camp fire. The Duke asked him if he could spare a bit? The man immediately proceeded to make apologies about the bad dressing. The Duke replied 66 Prithee, my good fellow, don't make compliments to an hungry stomach," and he began eating eagerly, with a biscuit for his plate; some of the other commanders ate a bit also. The private ran back for some drink, and brought a firkin of Hollands. After the relish was finished, the Duke took a pull out of the firkin's mouth; the other officers also drank. "I hope, comrade, I have not spoiled your dinner?”— "( No, your Honour, my five comrades in the mess are now eating another goose." "Then," said the Duke, "take a louis for yourself, and five others for your comrades."

A FARE SUPPORT.-An elderly farmer's wife, reading aloud the Scriptures to her little household, as was her wont, came to this passage, "bread is the staff of life," on which the housemaid remarked, that pudding was a good crutch. E.B.S- -S. KILLING The Devil. A Quaker took a protestant friend to the meeting house to which he belonged; after the service was over, (it had been a silent meeting) he inquired of his friend, who had been rather ennuye, his opinion of their meeting, "Why," replied the other, "I think it's enough to kill the devil.""The very thing we wanted," E.B.S-S. THE WAY TO BE ALONE. -A farmer, having to sleep in a country town, at which a fair was to be held on the following day, endeavoured in vain to procure a bed to himself. After sup

was the quick reply.

per he retired to rest, accompanied by the person with whom he was to share his bed, but still wishing to sleep alone, he thought of the following expedient to attain his object. Taking off his coat, he commenced scratching his arms and neck most violently, exclaiming at the same time, "Oh! this itch-this itch!-this itch!" I need Scarcely add that he had very soon the satisfaction to see his companion walk off. E.B.S-s.

GOOD GENERALSHIP. Frederick the Great was wont to say, "No war was ever carried on without spies, and no administration without corruption," and he certainly evinced his faith in this doctrine by the measures he pursued. His favourite, General Swieten, who used to take considerable liberties on the strength of his favouritsm, was bold enough to observe to the king one day, when the troops were in want of necessaries, and complaining that his Majesty spent more money in spies, than he did in bread and clothing for his army. "You are a fool," answered the king, "a downright fool. One piece of information of the worth of 500 rix-dollars, has saved me a million of money and 10,000 men. Don't talk to me of bread and clothing!-talk to me of advancing without bloodshed, and of saving my men. Their wants will be easily supplied when I know where the enemy's magazines are.How did I take possession of Saxony? Not with my army, but with a gold cabinet key.

A NEW BATCH. For the Olio.

Why are a gentleman's trousers like witty Anne ?-Because they are Nan Keen,

Why is a hen sitting like a Committee of the House of Commons?Because she reports progress and sits again.

Why is the hour between ten and twelve at long odds?-Because it is ten to one.

Why is William the ostler like an ignis fatuus?-Because he is a "Will o' the Wisp."

Why is a glow-worm like a chamber lamp?-Because it is a night light.

Why is a widow like a gardener ?Because she tries to get rid of her weeds.

Why is Wade the grocer, who paid five shillings in the pound, like a part of Scripture ?-Because he was "weigh'd in the balance, and found wanting."

See page 19

of the houses in that street was inhabited by an elderly woman who had formerly been attendant on an infirm gentleman for a long period, and at his death, as a recompense for her assiduous attentions, had been left by him in comfortable circumstances. She was

one of those old women who were ever fearing the instability of the institutions of her country, and could not be prevailed upon to put her money either in the funds or on mortgage, but kept dipping from time to time, as her necessities required, into her principal, which she always kept by her, quaintly remarking to those few of her friends who were in her secrets, that the sieur's chest, lock and key, were highly responsible bankers.

The old lady, whose name was Audran, had been for some time seriously 224

indisposed, and was attended by a highly respectable surgeon, a Monsieur D'Arsac, and under his care was fast recovering, and wanted, as the surgeon said, only a few days' quiet to effect her perfect restoration-poor woman! she was soon quiet enough, but her quietude was that of eternity!-for M. D'Arsac came to me one morning, and with wild and horror-stricken looks informed me, that on going as usual to visit his patient, he had found her brutally murdered.

the rooms.

I accompanied him to her rooms, and found, as he had stated, the poor old woman lying in her bed, with her throat cut so as almost to sever the head from the body. The room had been rifled of every valuable it contained, and the poor old lady's favourite bankers had stopped payment. There was no appearance of force in entering It had been Madame Audran's habit during her illness to open her door by a pulley attached to her bedside, which lifted a strong iron bar, and had any attempt been made to force it, the neighbourhood must have been alarmed, as it was well known that she kept no servant, and was so excessively nervous on her bankers' account, that she never opened the door unless she was fully convinced by the sound of the person's voice that they were friends whom she might safely admit. There could therefore be no doubt that it was done by some person on intimate terms with their victimbut who, was the question; her acquaintances were few, very few, but they were all persons of irreproachable characters, and it would have been cruel in the highest degree to have attached the suspicion of the crime to any of them, unless there were some strong grounds for so doing.

All, therefore, that could be done on the occasion, was to draw up a "process" of the circumstance, attested by the surgeon and some of the neighbours -and it was left to time to point out some clue to the murderer. But, in the course of a few months, the circumstance seemed almost forgotten, or, if remembered, it was merely as a gossip's story, related because there hung some strange mystery, which all being unable to solve, they might safely hazard a conjecture, and appear marvellous wise.

"You are going, Commissary, to the wedding to-night, are you not?" said Madame Parguet, the wine-merchant's wife, one day, when she came to me to

make her pretty usual enquiry as to where her husband had slept out the night before, not giving implicit crede nce to the "little way out of town my dear."

"Mons. D'Arsac was kind enough to send me an invitation, and, as the day seems fine, I shall look in to see the festivities of the evening. He keeps his marriage at the Jardin Beaulieu,' I think-I must go, for I have not seen him since that affair of poor Madame Audran's."

"Ah! poor Madame Andran!" replied the wine-merchant's wife, with a long sigh; "she was a good woman, and a most particular friend of mine. I used to be there almost every day, and it makes me shudder to think of it-it was a sad business!"

"Who is D'Arsac to be married to ?" "Oh, to a beautiful creature - only eighteen! such a shape-so' distingue'

you remember Emile de Lucevalle ; she and D'Arsac have loved each other from childhood; they will be a happy pair.”

"They ought to be. But I thought that match was off on account of D'Arsac not being rich enough to settle an equal sum with that brought by Emile. Do you know, Madame, how that has been arranged?"

"An uncle of his died in the Provinces, and left him the money." "I never knew he had one. ""

"Nor I, until the other day; I never heard him mention a word about an uncle until it had been all settled about the marriage, and the money on each side paid into the trustees' hands. But I must wish you a good day,, Mr. Commissary, and am much obliged to you for the information. I am an unhappy woman to have such a husband as Parguet-'going out of town,' indeed!-I'll out of town him with a vengeance," said Madame, and hastened out of the room to scold her husband,-dress for the wedding,- and afterwards appear with him so lovingly as to elicit the usual exclamation "if we were as happy as Monsieur and Madame Parguet, we should indeed be happy."

The evening was delightful, and the illuminations at the "Jardin Beaulieu" every body pronounced to be superior to any thing that had been seen for a long time; so charming-so happy every body looks-how beautifully the bride is dressed--what a very pleasant evening we shall have! were the expressions passing from one to

66

"It is nothing," said Madame Parguet; merely a slight spasm. I shall be much better if you will let me walk a few minutes about the garden by myself. But here is the Commissary-he does not dance, and will allow me to lean on his arm. So saying, she took my arm, and the rest at her request, resumed their dancing.

"Oh, Mr. Commissary," said she, "I have had such a shock."

"What occasioned it, Madame ?” said I.

"Are you sure nobody can overhear

us ?"

46 They are all engaged dancing.'

You know I danced next the bride."
Yes."

"And I was admiring the beautiful dress she had on when my eyes fell upon a brooch she wears upon her bosom, and I thought I should have fainted."

"What, because you saw a brooch?" 66 Yes," ," said she, drawing close to me, and whispering in my ear; "that brooch was Madame Audran's."

"Madame Audran's !" "Hush-speak low !" "How do you know it? you mayyou must be mistaken."

66 No, no, I have seen it a thousand times; besides, it was so uncommon a pattern that I often asked her to sell it to me, but was always refused. She said she would part with it only at her death."

"This is very strange; I hardly know what to think! I do not wish to hurt her feelings, but can you learn from her how she became possessed of it."

This Madame Parguet undertook to do under pretence of admiring it, and saying she wished to know where she might obtain a similar one. In a few minutes she returned, having gleaned from the gentle and ill-fated bride all that she knew concerning it: it had

been given to her that morning by her dear D'Arsac, and she would ask him where he got it, and let her know in the morning.

This information in some degree confirmed the suspicions I had previously entertained, that none but D'Arsac could be the murderer; but then his character had hitherto been unblemished, and he stood high in every man's report. It was not a thing to hesitate about; the conviction in my own mind was so strong, that I considered it my duty to arrest him without delay. I accordingly procured some of my agents, who were in the neighbourhood, and sent to him to say I wished a few moments' private conversation with him. As he entered the room, I heard the soft sweet voice of his bride, chiding him for leaving her, and exacting a promise he would not stay long-long! poor girl, she little thought how long the separation would be-that his promise of a quick return would be the last words to fall upon her ear.

As the door closed, I approached D' Arsac, and said, "Sir, you are my prisoner!" Looking at me at the same time, as if to read in my face the answer to what he dared not ask, at last, with a gasp for breath, he faltered out, "For what?"

"You are accused of the murder of Madame Audran!"

His colour fled in an instant, and he seemed as if he were about to fall, but covering his face with his hands, he remained a few moments in thought. His deep hard breathing betokened a suppressed sigh-one that tried for utterance, but was forced back; presently he sobbed out, "Oh, my poor Emile! this will be your death!" and dashing his hand across his forehead, and striving to recover the sudden shock he had sustained, said, “I am ready to follow you."

At the door he paused a moment saying, "Could not something be said to Emile that I am ill? something to console her for my absence? anything but the truth, though it must soon out. Oh, Heavens! but this is too much,”— and he dashed into the coach at the door, and was at once conveyed to prison.

The Tribunals being always sitting at Paris, his trial soon took place, and many things came out against him which he could not rebut; the sudden possession of a large sum of money, which he had accounted for by the death of an