their bondage so agreeable, that they wished it might never end. It may be imagined, he must be very rich to be able to support the expenses of such an extravagant household, for he now become the father of twelve girls; but besides this, he was obliged to provide for their relations, owing to a very singular accident.

One of his mistresses grew extremely uneasy in her retreat; and such was the generosity of his temper, that he could not bear to see any of them unhappy: -she told him she could not support life any longer without seeing her father and mother, whom she knew must be inconsolable for her absence. She urged this matter with such pressing entreaties and tears, that as he durst not let her go home to them, he at last resolved to send for them to his house, and to observe the same conduct with respect to them, as he had done when he first received the three girls whom his seamptress had invited.-The same servant was sent on the commission; and the parents of the girl, overjoyed to receive a letter from their absent daughter, readily consented to accept the invitation. The coachman had orders to keep them a long time on the road, to take all the bye ways he could find to the house, and not take them up till dusk of the evening. In the letter their daughter enjoined them to be discreet, and assured them her fortune was made beyond expectation. All these precautions being taken, the good people, who were rather of the lower class of citizens appoint'ed the evening for making this extraordinary visit; and Mr. Herby promised himself much pleasure from the confusion and surprize of our citizens.-To add to the magnificence of the apartments, prepared as before described, they were elegantly illuminated with wax candles, eleven of the girls were dressed very genteelly, and not without jewels. But as for their daughter, nothing could equal the splendour of her apparel; she almost sunk under the weight of her jewels, and was seated under a canopy in the largest apartment, with her companion standing on each side of her chair. In this manner she received her parents, who were led into the presence chamber by Mr. Herby himself-who on this occasion appeared very ceremonious. The Turkish servants were ranged in the anti-chamber to complete the scene, which succeeded beyond expectation. The old couple concluded they were 'in one of the royal palaces, and that their daughter had made a conquest of some prince of the house of Hanover.

Supper was served with the same profusion and magnificence; and when the guests were fully satisfied with the situation of their daughter, Mr. Herby made them a present of a purse of gold. Thus the evening passed very agreeably, and a little after midnight they took leave of their kind host, conformably to a condition mentioned in the letter. The father, however, was not so blinded by the elevation of his daughter, as not to perceive, that all this mystery could only be necessary in the case of a dishonourable connection; and concluded his daughter was ruined. His suspicions determined him, if possible to find out the place of her abode; and the night was not so obscure as to prevent his observing some particular marks on the road, and at the entrance into town, by which he thought he should be able to trace it the next day. But that he might not give any suspicion to Mr. Herby's servants, he and his wife quitted the coach in a careless manner in the streets, and walked home.

But the following day he succeeded so well, as to find his way out of town by the road he had entered, and pursuing his course to about the distance he imagined the coach had carried him, making allowance for the turnings and windings the coachman had made, he arrived in the neighbourhood, at no great distance from Mr. Herby's house, were he learnt sufficient to confirm

him in the opinion that it could be no other than the Turk, who was reputed to be so immensely rich, who had seduced and debauched his daughter.

With the cunning of the worldly-minded man he determined to bear the loss of his daughter's honour patiently, as an evil without remedy; and set about making an advantage to himself and family of this disaster.

He instantly wrote a menacing letter to Mr. Herby, accusing him as the ravisher of his daughter, and informing him that if he did not make him satisfaction for the injury he had done him, he would do himself justice by prosecuting him. The fear of being exposed, and an entire ignorance of the laws of England, Mr. Herby immediately submitted to gratify the avarice of the old man, who stipulated for a life-annuity for himself, his wife, and his daughter. This adventure unluckily transpiring through the jealousy, uneasiness, and discontent of the other girls, Mr. Herby, to quiet those fears which interrupted his domestic happiness, compromised matters in a pecuniary way with the relations of all his mistresses; so that he had now twelve young women and their relations to provide for. The tranquillity of his little seraglio being thus restored, he pursued his usual course of life for some time, without any appearance of future molestation.

But on the 5th of May, 1734, one of the valets going into his master's chamber at his usual hour of rising, found in his bed only a bloody carcase, without a head; and the girl who slept with him that night lay murdered by his side, with a number of wounds, which appeared to be the stabs of a poignard. The screams of the valet soon brought the other women and domestics into the apartment, whose horrid consternation cannot be expressed. Two of the Turkish domestics were missing, and never heard of afterwards; all the cabinets were found broken open, and the treasures carried away, not so much as a jewel being left but what was in the women's-apartments, and had been long since given to them.

As soon as the officers of justice arrived, the following circumstances were given in evidence to the jury who sat on the bodies, by the Turks who came with their late master to England.

The real name of the pretended Mr. Herby was Cidal Achmet, a native of Constantinople, illustrious descent, and in high favour with the grand signior; but having aspired to marry the grand signior's only daughter, the sultan banished him, and gave her to the old Bashaw of Cairo. But the sultana having conceived a reciprocal passion for Achmet, held a secret correspondence with him, and at last found means to escape from her husband, taking with her, immense treasures belonging to her father and the Bashaw; fortune favoured their retreat to Venice, where they lived very happily, till the sultana died, when Achmet fearing he was too near the grand signior, and having no longer a mediatrix to appease his vengeance, embarked with his effects in a vessel bound for London.

The carrying off the head, and the absconding of the Turks, left no room to doubt, that the grand signior and the Bashaw had perpetrated this murder by their agents; and on making further enquiries, some Turks, merchants in London, gave the government intelligence that three Turks had arrived before this event, with whom they had several conversations; that all they could gather from them,, was, that they were charged with an important secret commission, and they were very careful to procure a list on their arrival of all the Turks in London: it was found out that these three men, in company with two others, left England and embarked for Holland the very day Achmet was found murdere; and as it is the practice of the Turks to pursue a meditated

vengeance for twenty years or more, till they have executed it, the public were fully convinced, that the grand signior was at the bottom of this bloody affair. The jury could do no more than bring in their verdict wilful murder against persons unknown.

The poor girls were sent home to their friends; and the remaining effects confiscated to the sheriffs of the county.

Thus ended a most tragical event, which has escaped the notice of our historians.

DUTCH CUSTOM OF KNIFE SLIVERING.

The philosopher of human nature will not disdain to study manners and character in the lowest orders of society; and his opinion of nations in general will be formed, in a great measure, by an attention to these, as well as to the middling ranks, set the more elevated classes. Voltaire, when in London, was particularly observant of the proceedings of an English mob; and he mentions it as a circumstance highly honourable to the nation, and what he had not observed in any country, that, in their private disputes, our mobs seemed to be governed by an invariable principal of honour; for when it comes to the last extremity, the dispute is settled by a mode of fighting, which although it may occasion a temporary injury, is seldom terminated by fatal consequences; and the spectators are certain to interfere, if either party attempt to take an unfair advantage of the other; to which may be added, the entire reconcilations which almost universally follow the decision, and the humanity and tenderness with which even the victor treats the vanquished. On the contrary, in other countries, where the offence is not instantly resented by a thrust with a long knife, as with the Italians and Portuguese, if either party fall, the uppermost is permitted to beat him, as long as he can keep him in that situation; and they have recourse to kicking, scratching, and even throttling. This is the case in Brabant and Flanders. Our English mode of boxing, when abstractedly considered by a person of humane feelings, moral views, and refined sentiments, must appear, unquestionably, brutal and ferocious; but a philosopher, who has a more extensive acquaintance with human nature, as exhibited in other countries, will deem our custom of boxing to be comparatively innocent, and even generous and noble; and so no doubt, thought the spectators of a combat between two Dutchmen, whic was once fought in a field, near Limehouse, on Sunday morning.

Two Dutch sailors having some words, at a public-house, about a woman of the town, agreed to decide the difference by a combat with their large knives, which, as they avoid thrusting, is called slivering. They chose some of their companions as umpires, and this inhuman contest was conducted with the utmost firmness: they cut each other's face and arms with the greatest composure. Both the cheek-bones of the aggressor were laid bare: and the other, though the victor, was so faint from the loss of blood, that he was obliged to be carried on board the vessel to which he belonged.

THE MODERN LUCRETIA.

In the army of the Duke of Anjou, (brother to Henry the Third of France) who was marching to the Low Countries to the assistance of the confederates against the Spaniards, was one Captain Pont. He was quartered in the village

of Becourt, at the house of a rich farmer, who had three beautiful daughters. The eldest, to whom the care of the house was committed, was particularly attentive to the proper management of her new guest. After some days, the officer found himself smitten with those charms, which so often presented themselves to his view. He resolved to gratify his passion; and, in order to hasten that happy moment, he invited the father and his daughter to sup with him. In the midst of the repast, with a laugh, he demanded her in marriage. The countryman, who was a man of sense, immediately comprehended his meaning, and in a civil manner refused his consent, alledging the inequality of their conditions.. The Captain hereupon flew into a rage, and violently forced the father out of the room in which they had supped. The daughter endeavoured to escape; but the Captain seized her, and having abused her himself, delivered her up to the brutality of some subalterns, who were there to assist him in his base scheme. They then forced her to set down at the table with them.

This unfortunate girl, who was but sixteen years of age, possessed the spirit, of a woman, and a heart greatly superior to her birth. She was persuaded, that to weep over her misfortunes at this time would afford her less satisfaction, than thinking of the means to revenge the outrage she had received; and so far prevailing over herself as to stifle her resentment, she assumed an air of gaiety amidst their insolent discourses. It was not long before an opportunity presented itself to her wishes for the Captain having turned towards one of his companions to whisper him, she snatched up a knife and plunged it into his bosom. She then overturned the table, got away while they were busy with the Captain, and ran to her father, to whom she related what had. passed, and entreated him to fly with his two other daughters, As for herself, life was now of too little consideration to induce her to take the present advantage of escaping the punishment which threatened her. She calmly waited, the approach of her ravishers, who tied her to a tree, and shot at her till she was dead. Before she expired, this heroic girl thus addressed her executionFire, barbarians! after the marks I bear of your brutality, which have rendered me unworthy of life, I receive from your hands as a present, the, death I am now suffering. Heaven, who has just now revenged my lost honor in the death of your chief, will not suffer this last act of horror to pass with impunity."

ers: "

The event justified her predictions. Her father, worthy of such a daughter, animated by his resentment all the neighbouring peasants, Every one flew to arms they exterminated the assassins, and, as in cases like these the voice of justice is seldom attended to, there was not a single Frenchman spared in all that cantonment.

{!!!,,,

THE CORPSE OF KILSYTH.

There is an arched vault, or burying ground, under the Church of Kilsyth, which seems to have been the burial place of the family of Kilsyth for many generations. As the estate was forfeited, and the title became extinct in the year 1715, it has never been used for that purpose since that period. The earl fled with his lady and family to Flanders; and though he returned more than once incognito, in the habit of a common beggar, and as such lodged with several of his tenants, yet it is certain he was not buried at Kilsyth. The tradition is, and it is said to be confirmed by some papers and letters lately found, that he and a number of the unfortunate nobles who had,

been concerned in the rebellion were either murdered or killed by a sudden accident in Holland about the year 1717.

At all events, it seems certain that his lady with her infant son were smothered by the falling in of the roof of the room, in which a number of the nobility who had been concerned in the rebellion were assembled. It is generally said and believed that this was not by accident but design: that the landlord and some of his accomplices had cut the beams which supported the roof; and that, upon a signal being given he let it fall in, with a view to smother the whole company. It appears that very few escaped; and I never heard it doubted or denied that lady Kilsyth and her infant perished in the ruins. Indeed, the wound she received on the right temple is still visible; and when the body was first discovered it was covered with a black patch about the size of a crown-piece. There is no mark of violence on her son: he seems to have been smothered, as it is generally said, sitting on the knee of his mother at table. Her body was embowelled and embalmed, and soon afterwards sent over to Scotland. It was landed and lay at Leith for some time in a cellar, and was afterwards carried to Kilsyth, and buried in great pomp according to the form of the Church of England. It is not twenty years since some of the inhabitants of this parish died who were in their youth eye-witnesses of the funeral. The body was enclosed first in a coffin of fir, next in a leaden coffin. The space between the two was filled with a white matter somewhat of the colour and consistence of putty, apparently composed of gum and perfumes, for it had a rich and delicious flavour. When I was a boy at school, I have frequently seen the coffin in which she lies, for the vault was then always accessible, and often opened; but at that time the wooden coffin was entire. Indeed it was only within a few years that it decayed. Even after this the lead one remained entire for a considerable time; but being very brittle and thin, it also began to moulder away; a slight touch of the finger penetrated any part of it. In the aperture thus made nothing was seen but the gummy matter above mentioned. When this was partly removed, which was easily done, being very soft, and only about an inch in thickness, another wooden coffin appeared, which seemed quite clean and fresh; but no one ever thought of opening it till the spring of 1796, when some rude regardless men went to visit the tomb, and with sacrilegious hands tore open the leadden coffin. To their surprise they found under the lead a covering of fir, as clean and fresh as if it had been made the day before. The cover of this being loose was easily removed. With astonishment and consternation they saw the body of Lady Kilsyth and her child as perfect as the hour they were entombed. For some weeks this circumstance was kept secret; but at last it began to be whispered in several companies, and soon excited great curiosity. On the 12th of June, while I was from home, great crowds assembled, and would not be denied admission. At all hours of the night, as well as the day, they afterwards persisted in gratifying their curiosity. I saw the body soon after the coffin was opened; it was quite entire. Every feature and every limb was as full, nay, the very shroud was as clear and fresh, and the colours of the ribbon as bright, as the day they were lodged in the tomb. What rendered it more striking, and truly interesting, was, that the body of her son and only child, the natural heir of the title and estates of Kilsyth, lay at her knee. His features were so composed as if he had been only asleep. His colour was as fresh, and his flesh as plump and full, as in the perfect glow of health: the the smile of infancy and innocence sat on his lips. His shroud was not only entire, but perfectly clean, without a particle of dust upon it. He seems to