Page images

that centering here, expands over the world, wherever there is want to be relieved, or jury to be redressed, or sorrow to be comforted; now depopulating the pirate's dungeon; now unfettering the distant African. Conquering, with Victory, herself a captive; a willing captive in the triumph of Humanity. This is her eulogium, far brighter than ambition's crown, far more lasting than conquest's acquisitions; these are the deeds of genuine, permanent, indisputable glory. This is the pillar of her imperishable fame, which shall rise to heaven from its island base, triumphant and eternal, when empire's monuments are in dust around it. Go on then, first of nations, in the van of charity. The flowers of earth and splendors of eternity shall bloom and beam around you in your progress; and for you, her champions in this trophied enterprize, your country will honour you; your hearts will thank you; when you approach your homes, you will be welcomed there by the spirits of the homeless, to whom you have given shelter; when you embrace your little ones, the orphan's blessing will make their eye its throne, and smile upon you the light of its retribution; and if hereafter "the hour of adverse vicissitude should arise," if that home should be desolate, and those dear ones parentless, many a spirit will put up its prayer, that the universal Father may look upon their orphanage, and sooth and shield it with the grace of his protection."

Mr. Phillips was heard throughout with the most profound silence; and when he had concluded, the cheering continued for a considerable time.

The Traveler.

Never before published.]

cerpente, was suddainly crowded with humane corpses, like the in-olde, riche and poore, together; and the inhabitants do now scemeterie of some anciente citie, faire and foule, younge and soberly averre, that, on drearie blusterous dayes, the buriale carte will be seen wearilie trailinge up the dede man's hill, a sheeted grstlie companie gathering about those mountaine tombs and sometimes on summer evenings, a sounde of solemne psalmes

comes minglinge with the brieze."-Old MS.


7th Month, 1820.


(Continued from page 355.)


“The wilde heathe which heretofore had only received into its bosome the carcases of the salvage beastes, or the patiente sheepe, that dumbly suffering dies, and bleaching awaye in the windes leaves a greene spotte as a memorial of its deathe; or the birde which the shepherde noteth by its bones, talons, and feathers, to have bene rente by the cruelle hawke or charning

Crossing these high moors about three miles, we saw Eyam before us, placed in a situation similar to that of Longstone, at the foot of another lofty range of moor-land. As we approached, its situation became every moment more interesting. It appeared to stretch along a level about a mile in length. Behind, rose that wild, high mountain, whence two valleys broke and ran down towards the town; the one on the right, wide, deep, and gloomy with wood. On the slope behind the town was scattered here and there a pleasant house and plantation: before it, and immediately around it, rose a rich profusion

of trees, appearing most beautiful amidst the nakedness of the surrounding country. Descending still from our lofty situation, Middleton Dale, like a deep abyss, with its awful perpendicular rocks running parallel with the town, burst suddenly upon our view, and seemed to cut off all access to it. The lower we descended, the more the grandeur and sublimity of that romantic dell augmented; the more the fields on the tops of the rocks, between the dell and the town, seemed to rise like beautiful islands from their shadowy depths. From Middleton Tale two other dells about two hundred yards from each other run at right angles towards the town; one of them beautifully enriched with trees; and up the other, immediately before us, passed the road. Standing to survey our situation here, the mountains between which we had descended, rose behind majestically, a clear little stream rushed sparkling down by us, and before us piles of lofty and gigantic rocks-some, like ranges of towers with a naked and desolate grandeur-others, stupendous precipices, crowned with overhanging trees and mantled with ivy and tufts of mountain flowers, stood in an awful array of savage and inimitable sublimity. Passing between these mighty barriers of nature up to the town, we were agreeably surprised by the tones of a piano from a villa hid by trees at its entrance, -Music, amid this region of wild and inspiring scenes, so welcome to the soul, afloat on the stream of novel excitement, and so unexpected, needed only a little imagination in the hearer to make him dream of beauty and youthful grace, and enthusiastic genius directing its tones: it seemed more than to realize an arrival before the magical abode of Circe.

"A palace in a woody valley found,

Brown with dark forests and with shades around;
A voice celestial echoing from the dome,
Of nymph or goddess chaunting to the loom."

and crowded with tombs of an ancient and massive character. Just by, stands the parsonage, where Thomas Seward the poet, and his still more cek. brated daughter Anna, once resided; and though since enlarged, where the ever-memorable William Mompesson and his devoted and unshrink ag Ca.

tharine offered life and all in the service of their afflicted flock. These and other interesting charac. ters, who have acted here a little part of their drama of human life, call up a spirit from the dead to shroud the pilgrim of nature in the solemn influence of their memories. Some manuscripts of different characters of genius or worth, which it has been the fate of this secluded spot to possess, are still in the hands of different individuals in the neighbourhood; and many a traditionary story, I doubt not, might be learnt from the oldest inhabitants, which, if we had had time, I should have liked to seek after. Here the tomb of Catherine Mompesson, who fell a


victim to conjugal affection during the plague which raged here in 1666, the year after that in London, whence it was brought. On the west pannel are the emblems of time, the wings and the hour-glass, and the motto, "Cave, nescitis horum.” On the slab this inscription :-" Catherina Uzor Guil: Mompesson hujus Ecclesiæ rect. Filia Fadulphi Carr nuper de Cockin en Comitatu Dunelmersis Armogeri Sepulta Vicissimo Quinto Die August Ann. Dom. 1666. This tomb was found by Howard the philanthropist, thrown down, and in the most completely unnoticed state, and by him restored. Such an object, the fallen and dilapidated tomb of such a woman; a woman, who, in the bloom of youth and of unusual beauty, is said to have taken her smiling children in her arins and to have fallen at the feet of her husband at the breaking out of the plague, imploring him for their dear sakes to fy from the contagious spot; but on finding him inmovable, rose with a calm and resigned dignity, conveyed her infants to a safe retreat, and equally unyielding to her husband's entreaties for her to leave him to his duties and provide for her or safety, became his coustant and most anima helpmate in all his most arduous and perilous exer tions; could not fail to make a deep impression a mind like Howard's. Near the tomb stands a cross, of a most ancient and singular sculpture. Here are some curious examples of rustic epitaphs.

"Here lith the Body of Ann Sellars
Buried By This Stone,
Who Died On Jan. 18, 1731;
Likewise Here Lise Dean Isaac
Sellars, My Husband and My
Right. Who was Buried on That
Same Day Come Seven Years 1738.
In Seven Years Time There Comes
A Change
Obsarve, And Here You'll See,
On That Same Day Come Seven
My Husband's Dead By Me."

It seemed to speak of gifted and cultivated souls drawing the charms and elegancies of polished life into the lone and rocky wilderness, and raising the paradise of literary ease and domestic bliss, and the purest enjoyments of artificial existence, in the very bosom of nature's most romantic glens. Our first visit was, as usual, to the church-yard. It has a pleasing aud venerable aspect, planted round, like On the tower is fixed the following, remarka many in the peak villages, with flourishing limes, for the skilful division of its Lines:

It was fortunate the old woman died first, or t might suspect from the last line that she had murdered "Dear Isaac" by an ungodly tongue some other fatal weapon.


ing height, covered with a rich garment of green undaunted amidst the overpowering pestilence, bushes, and wild roses with huge towers like crags though it had torn from his heart the glory of his springing from it, half concealed in boughs, and youth, the calmer of his troubles, and the sweetest moss, and luxuriant ivy. You follow the winding hope of his declining years, next to the supporting course of the grassy valley beneath the shade of spirit of his God. A more illustrious proof of the trees, by a little gurgling stream, while your eye efficacy of the Christian faith, and of the wisdom and is perpetually drawn from one noble object to an- consolatory advantages arising from his religion, other. About half way up, on the left, a high mass were perhaps never given, than by this admirable of rock stands on an eminence, which would be character on this solemn and terrible occasion: nearly concealed in the trees, did you not see the What else could arm a man with courage sufficient, light through two natural arches: these are the when he saw the deadly pestilence approaching, aud arches where the pastor used to address the people. calculated all its tremendous effects, so lately seen Ascending to them you find another noble arch in the metropolis? what else could arm him with passing from one to the other, and forming a fine courage, and endue him with philanthropy enough. natural temple. Beyond these the vale expands to await the storm, not merely calm and unruffled, on all sides, forming a sort of amphitheatre, sur- but engaged in deep conceivings how to shelter his rounded by high fertile hills, thinly shaded by tall flock from its devastations, and scorning to balance trees. To the left a gloomy corner, shrouded with life, affection, every thing but heaven, against the wood, attracts your attention. You enter it, and protection of his fellow men? I put out of the behold two lofty precipices gradually approaching question those instances of Greek and Roman pa"Here lies my three children dear, each other towards the farther end, and covered triotism which are recorded with so much applause, Two at Hartington, and one here; with trees that unite their boughs far above you because they were displayed on the theatre of mighty They are gone to rest I hope in heaven; and form a sort of savage grotto. A chasm above, nations, and it is easy to conceive in the fame they One thousand eight hundred and seven. large enough to admit a man, runs far between the would purchase, an adequate excitement; but that Our next visit was to the glen where the people approximating sides of the rocks, down which a patriotism which devoted its possessor to death in used to assemble, during the plague, for divine stream comes rushing, and all below is a rude scene the eyes of a few hundreds of lowly and undistinworship, and their pastor addressed them from a of scattered crags, damp and cold, and overrun with guished individuals, which thus rose and exerted rock. This excellent man by his influence pre- tall ramping plants, the chervil, the sweet cicely, itself in the depth of those obscure glens, unsoothed vailed upon his parishioners not to flee at the break- and the red lychnis ; while the long green fronds of by the hope of consequent renown, unwelcomed ing out of the plague, and thus to carry it into a the hart's-tongue, and various ferns, hang with the by the anticipations of earthly recompense, must multitude of places, but to remain in their own beautiful blue tussocks of the waving harebell from draw its vigour from a deeper source, and that village, and by every wise endeavour, by prayer, the dank cliffs. This romantic valley, in short, source could be nothing less than the promises of and by every prudent regulation, to remove the combines almost every attribute that a poetic fancy the Gospel. But when the fury of the tempest acdreadful calamity. This piety and wisdom well can bestow upon the most beautiful rural seclusion. tually descended; when he saw around him nothing merited the astonishing confidence of his flock. Though close to the town, its high surrounding but haggard terror and dissolution, in every appalHe was their pillar of earthly hope, and their direc-hills impress you with the idea of complete isola-ling shape; when every domestic hearth, where his tor, and inspirer of a higher; their physician, and holy inculcations had tightened the bonds of nature, pastor, and friend. To avoid the dangerous conand raised peace, affection, and happiness, were sequences of assembling in the church, they met in scenes of the most dismal confusion; the dead, the an adjoining glen where each could sit apart, and dying, and the terrified, all claiming his attention; their invaluable teacher could deliver his addresses and when, to close the melancholy climax, his befrom a rock opposite to them. This is the woody loved wife, who had in vain been urged to retire dell we saw as we approached, to the left of the from the contagious spot who had assisted his road, as we entered the town. This is a delightful counsels and partaken of his labours for his afflicted people, perished in his arms; what could enable this widowed, lonely, isolated man to pour out of a spirit which every earthly circumstance conspired to dash, to wither, and exhaust,-a nepenthe so potent, that it lulled the woes and alarms of the living, and brightened the sudden deathbed with the visions of a blissful eternity? The dauntless fortitude with which he sustained the weight of the cares and distractions of his whole flock, though pressed so closely with his own; the sagacity which marked his plans when he was harrassed by numbers, and had no calm friend to consult; and the astonishing influence which his wisdom, piety, and affection gave him over his parishioners, empowering him to make so noble an effort to save his country from the propagation of that dreadful distemper, are so many proud and collective proofs of the magnanimous and godlike eminence to which Christianity will elevate the human soul! And are we really invited to partake the benefits of this same religion? Can we hesitate a moment? And are there any human beings destitute of its knowledge? Can there want another argument to induce us to

tion from the world; a profound silence for ever
dwells there; and its verdure, and mingling shade
and sunny slopes sooth deliciously the musing
fancy, which the wilder features of the place had
startled and expanded. Here, on Sabbath evenings,
the inhabitants of the village resort to walk and
read in its shady recesses. Here you may well
imagine in past ages some holy anchorite's abode,
like that described by Spencer:


[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

"Eliz. Laugher Ob. Feb. 4th 1741. Etat 24. "Fear no more the

Heat o'th Sun,

Nor the furious

Winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly

Task has done,
Home art gone, and
Taen thy wages,

I weep thee now,

But I too must

Here end with
Thee, and turn to dust:
In Christ may end-

-Less union prove
The consummation
of our love."
Neither of these, however, is equal to one now
standing in Longnor Churchyard, four miles from

"Ecco! non leingi un vel cespuglio vide
Di spín fioriti e di vermiglie róse

Che de le líquid 'onde a specchio fiéde
Chiuso dal sol fia l'álte quércie ombróse
Cosé voto nel mezzo che concéde
Frísca stanza fia l'ombre pui nascose
E la foglia coi rámi in módo e mesta,
Chel sol non í entra non che mína vesta
Dentro lítto vi fan tinere erbitte

Ch 'invitano a posaree chi s'appresenta.”


At the bottom of Middleton Dale, stupendous rocks with trees, like those we just spoke of, surrounded the entrance. About a hundred yards is open to the road, destitute of bushes, grassy, and grazed by sheep. A wall there runs across it, and a mass of trees seem to close the entrance. Passing over the walls among the trees, a footpath leads you up the middle of the dell, amidst an assemblage of wild and beautiful scenes which it is impossible to describe. On the one hand are vast precipices, on the other a steep bank runs up to an astonish

"A little lowly hermitage it was,
Down in a dale, hard by a forest's side,
Far from resort of people that did pass
In travel to and fro; a little wide
There was a little chapel edified,
Wherein the hermit duly went to say
The holy things, at morn and eventide :
Thereby a chrystal stream did gently play,
Which from a sacred fountain welled forth alway."
This spot, you feel sure, must have witnessed
the joyous metings, and heard the vows and
affectionate parlance of all the more passionate
and sentimental lovers of the neighbouring village
for ages: but most of all, the idea of that solemn
assembly dwells upon the imagination, when terrors
and desolation hovered over the place, and death was
busy amongst the panic-struck multitude: when
all communication was cut off with every other
place, and every one expected bis fate the next,
and hopeless of this world, came to listen to the
promises of a better, from the pious, affectionate,
and indefatigable pastor, who still stood calm and

communicate to them a secret thus capable of emparadising prosperity, and of charming away, as a mere gloomy vision, the most dreadful, aggra vated, and complicated calamities? Alas! that any brother mortal should want such an antidote to his miseries! I stood upon the spot occupied by this venerable man with a sensation of awe and admiration, heightened by the character of the surrounding scenes, till I could almost persuade myself I saw him beside me, and that I read the counte nances of his audience on the opposite hill, and saw dismay and terror gradually yielding to his animated arguments, till his own glowing faith and triumph of invincible holiness brightened over every face.

We next went to the place on the high moor about a mile from the town, where those who died of the plague were buried: we found only the marks of the interment of one family of the name of Hancock. A tomb is placed over the parents, with an inscription and motto "Orate et vigilate, nescitis horam;" and six headstones of their children stand in a scattered manner about it: four yew trees grew amongst them but they are now cut down. It is recorded that between the 7th of Sept 1665, and Nov. 1666, there were 260 burials, and 91 years afterwards, the ground being accidentally disturbed, the plague broke out again and carried off great numbers. We were told of a trough, on the top of the moor, where charitable contributions were left in water, principally by the Duke of Devonshire, during the plague, but we could not find it.

[ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]


SIR,-I found the above verses a few days ago, in a letter, written in 1809: if they are not already in print and well known, the feeling that pervades them will, I trust, make them deserving of a place in your agreeable and useful miscellany.-I am, &c.



When silent time, with lightly foot, Had trod on thirty years,

I sought again my native land,
Wi' mony hopes and fears.
Wha kens if the dear friends I left
May still continue mine;

Or if I e'er again may taste

The joys I left lang syne.

As I drew near my ancient pile,
My heart beat all the way;

Ilk place I pass'd seem'd yet to speak
Of some dear former day:

Those days that followed me afar,
Those happy days of mine,
That mak' me think the present days
Are naething to lang syne.

The ivy'd tower now met my eye,
Where minstrels used to blaw;
Nae friend stepp'd furth wi' open hand,
Nae weel-kenn'd face I saw ;
Till Donald totter'd to the door,
Wham I kenn'd in his prime,
And grat to see the lad return,
He bare about lang syne.

I ran to ilka weel-kenn'd place,
In hopes to find friends there;

I saw where ilka ane had sat,

And hung on mony a chair;
Till saft remembrance threw a veil
Across these e'en o' mine,

I shut the door and sabb'd aloud,
To think on auld lang syne.
Some puny chields, a new-sprung race,
Wad next their homage pay,

They shudder'd at my gothic walls,
And wish'd my groves away.

"Cut, cut," they cried, "these aged elms, Lay low yon ancient pine:"

"Na, na, your fathers' names grow there, Memorial o' lang syne."

To win me frae sic waefu' thoughts
They took me to the town,
Where soon in ilka weel kenn'd face
I miss'd the youthfu' bloom.
At balls they pointed to a nymph,
Wham all declar'd divine;
But sure her mother's blushing face
Was fairer far lang syne.

In vain I tried in music's sound
To find that magic art,
Which aft in Scotia's ancient lays
Had thrill'd thro' a' my heart.
The sang had mony an artfu' turn,
My ear confess'd 'twas fine;

Yet miss'd the simple melody,
That touch'd my heart lang syne.

Ye sons to comrades of my youth, Forgive an auld man's spleen;

Wha 'midst your gayest scenes still mourns
The joys he ance has seen.
When time is past and seasons fied,
Your hearts may feel like mine;
And then the sang will maist delight,
That minds you o' lang syne.


(From the New Monthly Magazine †

Oh, Nose! thou rudder in my face's centre,
Since I must follow thee until I die;
Since we are bound together by indenture,
The Master thou, and the Apprentice 1;
Oh! be to thy Telemachus a Mentor;

Though oft invisible, for ever nigh;
Guard him from all disgrace and misadventure,
From hostile tweak, or love's blind mastery.
So shalt thou quit the city's stench and smoke,
For hawthorn lanes and copses of young oak,

Scenting the gales of heaven, that have not yet
Lost their fresh fragrance since the morning broke,
And breath of flow'rs," with rosy May-dews wet,"
The primrose, cowslip, bluebell, violet.




Oh, my big toe! my trunk's remotest sprout!
In youth, I owed to thy elastic tip
The joyful race, the hop, the jump the skip;
And thou hast ever urged me in my rout:
If, with rude bully, I have fallen out,
Thou ever in the breach wert good as whip.
Oh! may the frosts of winter never nip,
Nor upstart stone oppose thy venturous shout,
And through thy leathern house a window break!
But mayst thou ever bear me firm and true,
Whether, at morn, to hear the lark awake;

Or list, at twilight, to the lone cuckoo ; Or, when I would the noontide ray forsake, For lovelier beams from Julia's eyes of blue! Liverpool. LORENZO



Body of the Room 3s. Gallery 2s.

The Readings and Recitations of this Gentleman, which are considerably varied each evening, are, we feel pleasure in saying, attended by the most respectable audiences. His evenings are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; but we have to state, that the present week will afford the only opportunities, to the Liverpool Public, of enjoying his instructive and amusing speci. mens of Elocution, as Mr. P. proceeds to London after Friday evening.

Orthography-(Inserted at the request of a corres pondent, who does not probably know that it has already graced our columns.)-The following note was received lately by a Surgeon:-"Cer, Yole oblige me uf yole kom un ce me; I hev a Bad Kowd, am Hill in my Bow Hills, and hev lost my Happy Tight.”

[ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

Scientific Records.

[Comprehending Notices of new Discoveries or Improvements in Science or Art; including, occasionally, singular Medical Cases; Astronomical, Mechanical, Philosophical, Botanical, Meteorological, and Mineralogical Pheno mena, or singular Facts in Natural History, Vegetation, &c.; Antiquities, &c.; to be continued in a Series through the Volume.}






Years Jan. Feb. March April May June July Aug. Sept. Oct.

Nov. Dec.

1807 29.88 29.65 30.01 29.64 29.63 29.81 29.67 29.65 29.62 29.65 29.46 29.71
1808 29.61 29.89 29.98 29.66 29.68 29.76 22 73 29.64 29.63 29.49 29.67 29.64
29.34 29.53 29.89 29.69 29.73 29.55 29.72 29.50 29.52 29.95 29.77 29.56
1810 29.00 29.59 29.45 29.56 | 29.67 29.93 29.50 29.64 29.87 29.70 29.11 29.39
1811 29.66 29.13 30.00 29.45 29.43 29.64 29.81 29.69 29.82 29 39 29.86 29.52
1812 29.77 29.33 29.68 29.91 29.86 29.88 29.92 30.01 30.07 29.26 29.86 30.04
1813 30.10 29.53 30.19 29.90 29.64 30.06 29.79 30.11 30.08 29.61 29.76 29.89
1814 29.51 30.16 29.79 29.88 30.14 30.12 29.99 30.00 30.15 29.83 29.77 29.42
1815 29.95 29.86 29.75 30 00 30.00 29.96 30.14 30.00 30.00 29.94 80.04 29.84
1816 29.69 29.89 29.83 29.82 29.92 30.02 29.72 30.02 29.95 29.90 29.8229.75
1817 29.83 29.95 29.87 30.39 29.84 29.92 29.85 29.74 30.04 30.10 29.98 29.63
1818 29.68 29.53 29.35 29.57 29.44 29.88 29.95 29.92 29.64 29.71 29 66 29.90

1819 29.52 29.43 29.70 29.66 29.77 29.75 29.88 29.81 29.81 29.67 29.57 29.57 1820 29.72 29.82 29.76 29.80 29.59 29.79 29.81 29.72 29.80 29.13 29.73 29.83




29.69.06 m.
29.80.05 p.
29.88 .03p.
29.89.04 p.

29.70.05 m.

Difference of annual from general Mean

.101 p.



29.66 29.66 29.81 29.78 29.73 29.86" 29.82 29.82 29.84 29.66 29.73′′ 29.69′′ 29.75"

m. .09m. .06p. 03p. .02m. .11p. .07p. .07p. 09p. .09m. .02m.
Difference of the monthly, from the General Mean .061.

General Mean of the first three months, 29.704; second, 29.791; third, 29.830; fourth, 29.693 inches.
General Mean of the first six months, 29.747; of the second, 29.761 inches; of the six winter months, 29.698;

and of the six summer months, 29,810 inches.

Mr. Hutchinson's. results are from an average of 25 years' observations at Liverpool; namely, from 1768 to 1792, inclusive.

reached 30.86, on the 1st of May, 1814; 30.84, on the 30th
of November, 1816; 30.80, on the 29th of March, 1811,

The highest barometrical pressure, which took place in the above fourteen years, was 30.88 inches: it occurred on the 7th of December, 1812. The weather presented nothing remarkable at the time; the wind blew gently from the north-east; it was fine and cloudy, and the mean temperature for the day was 32°.

In glancing upon the above table, it will be observed, that each column points out the monthly means of fourteen years; namely, from 1807 to 1820, both inclusive. The last column but one on the right gives the annual means, which are found by adding the monthly means of each year together, and dividing their sums by twelve, the number of months. At the bottom of the annual means, is the general average of the fourteen years, which I assume as a mean elevation for Manchester. The figures in the last perpendicular column are found, from a difference, more or less, between the annual means, and the general one of 29.75 inches.

The lowest pressure was 27.77! and which occurred on the 19th of October, in the same year; just fifty days before the highest state.-I made the following observations at the close of that month:-"The present month is particularly notable, for bearing date to a most unparalleled atmospherical depression. It occurred on the morning of the 19th; fifty hours previous to which, the mercurial column was at a mean elevation; but on the above morning, the barometer showed 27.77 inches, having lost one inch and seven-tenths; it was now stationary for a few hours, and there were frequent gusts of wind from the south, but no material change of temperature. From about noon of the 19th to noon of the 21st, the mercury had more than regained its loss, by two-tenths; when it oscillated with inferior but still large and quick movements to the end.

In like manner are the general monthly means found; the differences of which, from the general annual mean, are put down in the third line from the bottom. The sums the two last are found the general monthly means, as explained.

The first five years' observations were made at the Lying-in Hospital, during my residence there: the barometer used was a common upright one; but, from 1812 The desultory movements of the barometer in the to 1817, it was changed for one of a wheel kind, which preceding month (September, 1812) were very trivial; ex-in part I conceive may account for the difference in the cept one, which was worthy of notice, viz. between the monthly and annual means being so much higher in 27th and 28th. Much rain fell at the time; and the those years. For the last three years I have used the river Irwell was so much swollen, as to do much damage common upright one again, made as accurate as possible. upon the low lands in its vicinity, by floating down My present residence in Bridge-street is not more than 200 yards from the former one, and the situation of the sheaves of corn and other valuables. It has not been so high these seven years. Its perpendicular rise at the present barometer is elevated not more than four yards Lying-in Hospital, from its usual height, measured 15 above the situation of the one formerly kept at the Hosfeet 9 inches. This must have been occasioned from a pital. larger fall of rain in a northerly direction, than what fell in the town."-The mean temperature of the day, on which this very low pressure happened, was 50°; the wind blew a hurricane from the south, and the moon was almost at the full. Upwards of two inches of rain fell on the 18th and 19th. The difference of the two extremes is 3.11 inches. With the exception of the depression in October, 1812, the barometrical surface rarely ever descends below 28 inches: it has been twice at 28; first, on the 17th of December, 1809; and the second, on the 20th of January, 1814. On the 27th of October, 1811. it was at 28.08 inches. Next to the great elevation of 30.88 inches, the surface of the mercury in the tube

It has often been asked, if the barometer, or in other words the mercurial surface, be not higher in summer than in winter. This can only be answered from general results of a long series of years. I think we shall now be able to settle this point, from the joint observations of myself, Mr. Dalton, and Mr. Hutchinson. Some allowances ought, however, to be made, from the expansion of the mercury in the tube of the barometer in the sum mer months. But when these allowances are made, we still find the means higher in summer, than those in the winter months. Mr. John Dalton's general monthly means are drawn froin 25 years' observations in Manchester; namely, from 1794 to 1818, both inclusive,

The whole of the results I will arrange as under:





Nov. Dec.

Feb. March April May June July Aug. Sept.

29.86 29.89 29.98 29.89 29.94 29.92 29.80 29.76 29.76
Ditto...... 29.66 29.66 29.81 29.78 29.73 29.86 29.82 29.82 29.84 29.66 29.73 29.6929.75
Mr. Hutchinson's Means...... 29.75 29.61 29.82 29.79 29.78 29.79 29.78 29.77 29.67 29.71 29.67 29.68-
General Monthly Ditto...... 29 73 29.69 29.83 29.81 29.80 29.87 29.83 29.84 29.81 29.72 29.72 29.71
Diff. from the Gen. An. Mean .04m. .08m. .06p. .04p. .03p. 10p. .06p. .07p. .04p. .05m. .05 m. .06m.1
Ditto...... 29.78 29.81 29.87
Mr. Dalton's

[blocks in formation]

From the above general results, it appears, that March, April, May, June, July, August, and September are all above the general annual mean; but June, July, and August possess a marked superiority above the rest. January, February, October, November, and December are all under the mean.

The mean of 29.77 inches, from attentive notations at Liverpool and Manchester during the above periods, may be relied on as pretty near the truth. Perhaps, if we make allowances for the expansion of the mercury in the summer months, we may a mean the barometrical surface in Lancashire at a mean height above the sea, at 29.75 inches.

Astronomy-Dr. Olbers has calculated, that once only in a period of 88,000 years, a Comet will come as near to the earth as the moon is. Once only in four millions of years, a comet will approach the earth within 7,700 geographical miles; and if it be equal in size to the earth, will raise the water to the height of 13,000 feet (a second deluge.) And only in 200 millions of years, will such a body come in contact with the earth !!!

Diamond.-An extraordinary large diamond, belonging to the Honourable East India Company, has recently been received from India. It is denominated the Nassuck Diamond, and was taken with the baggage from the Peishwa of the Marattas. It weighs 351 grains, or 894 carats: its shape is triangular. Mr. Mawe (who visited the diamond district of Brazil) has, through the favour of the chairman, modeled it. He thinks the form when rough was an irregular octohedron, and has been cut into its present shape to preserve its size and weight. It is of the finest water, and the largest diamond that has appeared in Europe, except the Pitt diamond, and the one in the possession of the Emperor of Russia.


There is not a science or study that has been more generally appreciated than Physiognomy, since the close of the life of Lavater, whose works have been published in every European language; and there are few well-educated persons who do not pique themselves upon the knowledge of judging of the characters of men from their various countenances. How pleasing then, it must be, to the lovers of the science, to know that they have, at present, an opportunity of gratifying their curiosity, by viewing Madame Tussaud's collection of figures, now in this town. There, they may, at leisure, view and study the countenances of some of the most celebrated

characters of the past and present times, which have been faithfully copied, many of them from life, and others from the finest busts and statues. The pleasure to be derived from this cannot be too fully appreciated: it enables the amateur to concentrate his ideas

within their proper boundaries; and, by having an opportunity of comparing various countenances collected within a small space, it affords him a wide field for pleasing reflection. Here, are placed together, men of various talents; and, from almost every European nation, some, who, possessed of brilliant talents and fortitude, have risen to the very pinacle of human ambition, by their superior knowledge of the tactics of war: others, who, by the strength of their genius, have immortalised themselves by philosophical and useful writings, which have made their countries proud of the honour of giving them birth; and whose names will be handed down to posterity, as bright examples for imitation. The contemplation of others, who, through long and benevolent lives, have constantly endeavoured, by every means in their power, to make themselves useful to their fellow creatures, produces a pleasing emotion, at once proving the triumph of virtue and humanity over every other sensation. Turning again to the violent and sanguinary revolutionist, how different is the sensation on looking at his countenance! We fancy that in every feature we can discover the self-malignant smile at the idea of thousands of victims immolated at the bloody shrine of ambition; and the mind sickens when the eye beholds the likenesses of lovely females who were butchered to appease the brutal passions of remorseless and sanguinary tyrants. Again, we behold the figures of noble and eminent statesmen, whose chief ambition was, to contribute to the glory and prosperity of their country; and we feel a sensation of reverential respect when we read their various and expressive countenances. Though last, not least, we turn to lovely woman: how cold must be that heart that can contemplate their lovely features and not let fall the tear of pity at the recollection of the sufferings and the fate of many of this fairer portion of creation; and, in the enthusiasm of our feelings, we regret that we could not start forward to their defence, while we curse the memory of those brutal and ferocious monsters who could imbrue their hands in their innocent blood. We then gaze on the features of her whose memory is delightful to every British heart: looking at her, we recollect the many virtues of one, whose chief delight (did she yet exist) would be to make her people happy under her reign. Surely an exhibition possessing such claims to the attention of the lovers of taste and ingenuity, ought to be duly appreciated. To the ladies it affords the pleasing reflection that this truly-gratifying entertainment is the work of one of their own sex, who, by her own individual exertion, has been enabled to render this collection highly creditable to her talents, as an artist, and particularly edifying and instructive to the learned as well as to others, by affording them the pleasure of viewing the wonderful and astonishing difference of form with which Nature has stamped the different countenances of men. To young persons, in particular, it demonstrates the absolute necessity of rendering themselves familiar with the lives of those who have enjoyed the love, or writhed beneath the execration, of their fellow-men; and the necessity of choosing that path, by pursuing which, they will ensure the esteem of good men here, and a glorious name here


Since the arrival of the collection in Liverpool, it has met with the most flattering marks of approbation; and we assure those who have not beheld it, that, in omitting to view these beautiful figures, they lose a treat of no ordinary kind.

teeld to make a werk upon: presentlie these furious soldiers followed me, and sogt me in that howse, but found me not; watched my lodging with a gard, all night to catch me if I should go home, commanded the gards at every avenu not to let me out of towne, so that I was forced to ly out of my howse that night, and the next morning was fane to loope hedges and ditches to get to Lancaster, for they had beset all passages to kill me. When I came to Lancaster there was 8 com. panies of soldiers; the cannon was carrying up to the Castle: Manchester, Bolton, Preston were stryv ing who should have the best peeces; but having intel ligence that Tilslie was to joyne with my Lord, and to assault Lancaster, I removed from that place and returned to Preston, for then the soldiers were a little apeased by the persuasion of Collonell Shuttleworth. I sent for all the troops I could have from Blackborne and Bolton, and had comanded Colonell Holland, with his regiment from Manchester, to set upon Warrinton. I got 12 companies of foot together; but, having re from Lancaster, I could not stir out of my bed, and ceived a great fall from my horse that night I came am not well as yet, but I sent Coll. Ashton with 9 com him to march forward and assault the enemie in the panies, and keept but 3 in towne: and so I comanded reare, the 8 companies in Lancaster, in the van, wod be a means to relieve them of Lancaster, who were besieged by these troopes. The Colonell being bali way at Gerstein (Garstang) had no corage to go ca; showing that the enemie was strong, and if they should be beatten, the countrie were lost. I wrot to him to stay there: that wold amuse the enemie. He called the councell of warre, which were all of his mynd to return again the next day. They were not so socce "My verie honble good Lord, out of the place, but 2 scouts of the enemies rydes "I have received the honor of your kynd letter which back and advertised them. Imediately they assault was both seasonable and comfortable. I am now in Lancaster, and were beatten of again, had not a soldier a worser condition with these people than ever; for cryed We have no powder! so they made a fresh Preston is lost again to us, and that by the cowardli- assault, and came and burnt the towne, for the most ness of the soldiers, and by the malignants within the pt. our soldiers retired to the church and castk. 1, towne, who declared themselves enemies so soon as hearing of this, knew, that in case I relieved them not the enemies forces assaulted, and shot upon our gards presently, they must surrender men, armes, and carers within the towne, from the windows, which was a to the enemie. The next day I got upon my horse, cheef cause they were beat from their postes. I in-sore as I was, with eleven companies of foot, some juced Preston and Lancaster a month peaceably; and few ill-mounted horse, who durst not look the enemie so, after I had given order for making of some workes in the face, and with these I marched to Lancaster, for defence of the towne, I had layd a plott for the having left in garrison, in Preston, 4 companies of takeing of Warinton, and came to Manchester for foote, a troop of horse of Captn. Dukinfield, with 500 that purpose, to make preparation. The next morn-clubmen; Coll. Holland being in towne, and Sergeant ing Serjeant Major Sparrow sends me a letter by a Major Chantrell. I marched in a closse way, having post, shewing me that there was a Spanish ship blowne nor horse nor canons yet in view of the enemie. Sa in with a storme, to Weyre (Wyre) waters, and had a soon as I was past they knew I would relieve Lancaster. lake, their pylot being dead, desired help. The Ser- The enemie marched forward to attempt against Presjeant Major takes three companies with him, and sent ton, which they carried maliceuslie. I was to march him other 3, and thus marched towards the ship, from Lancaster about two of the clock again; but zo when the Captens were come a shoare, at Rosehall soldier would stir, in regard they were wearied, having (Rossall.) The next day the Spanyards came a shoare marched 20 myles. The next morning, being redde to the number of 400. Upon the 3d day my Lord to march, none wold stay in Lancaster. Coll. Stanle comes over the ford at Hisksbank (Heskethsbank) 3 companies, who were into it, caused beat their drums with 300 horse. Our foot would not advance to the in spyt of my teeth; and when I caused shut the g ship, fearing that my Lord had had foot as well as they swore they wold fire the canons and the cast horse; so they marched over to the other syde of the and began, so that I was fain to cause set open the water, to preserve the ammunition which they had gates. None of Coll. Shuttleworths regiment wed gotton out of the ship. There were but 12 musqueteers stay, so that I was in a greater perplexity than ever. left in the ship; and these fled away: so my Lord of At last 2 of Coll. Hollands regiment sayd, Sir, we Darbie approaches the ship and puts fire in her, and will stay if you will stay, but not els.' I was forced burnt all; and so retired home again at the ford of to stay in the Castle, and send the other away to Pres Hisksbank. Then Colonel Doddin and Mr. Towinson ton; but about mid way news came to them that (quære?) were taken prisoners; for they could not Preston was taken by my Lord. Sergeant Major believe but that the enemie were our people, they this to me by post, and desires me to retire me by the were so drunk with the joy of the ship, which, tho way of Clethro' (Clitheroe) and by night, otherwyse i it was burned, we recovered all the ordnance, to the could not escape. I mayd this known to the two Cap number of 22, whereof 8 were of brass, 2 demican- tens with me; they said this was no place for me to nons, 1 minion, 5 sacres, whereof 3 were broke and be in, neither wold they stay after me. So I pared made useless. It was in this interim that we got up the out of the castle, and wrot to the liftienents how canons to the Castle of Lancaster: Sir John Girlinton things stood; desiring them, if the soldiers wold not and Mr. Teilsley (Tildsley) and others had sent for stay to defend the castle, to retire the same way to forces from some parts of Yorksheare, and got a quan- Clethro'. It seems the companies had got salt be tity of armes, and so invited my Lord to come again, and porke for a month or 2, and there is water in the they wold joyn with his Co.; which my Lord did, castle, so that if we can relieve them against that time returned presentlie, with 7 companies of foot, 5 is well: but I dispare of that, seeing it is to farre from troops of horse, & peeces of cannons; and, being in us, above 40 myles. This ship has been the cause of the Fyld countrey, where all are Papists, they resorted all our sorrow, having our troops divyded only to get all to him, with the best armes they had, some mus- these canons. But it is Gods pleasure thus to deal wa quets, many horse, and infinit number of beilmen.- vain man, who puts their confidence in canons and Just about this time, the soldiers of Preston rose up in men more than in God. And now I am at Manchester: a mutinie, about 100 madmen, with polaxes, and they scarcely dare I come into the streetes for feare of kit sought to have my heart blood, why, forsuth, I had of me. We are presently to go to the feelds and seek given a soldier a knok or 2, for shooting off his peece the enemie, and either fight with them or atterst between 6 and 7 at night, after the watch was set. By some towne. But yet I am in as bad a case as before; Gods mercie I had past threw a howse neere to the the soldiers say they will kill me, because I gave them gard; and so went throw barns and stables to see some not the plundrage and papists goods of Preston, whic





appeared in three Numbers of our
Volume; see pages 145, 153, and 169.
[Continued from pages 341, 347, and 366 of our present volume.]



(8.) The difficulties of the Royalists were shared by their opponents. The following very curious letter, written by Sir John Seton, from Manchester, relates to the precise time Halsall is describing; and, as it has never before been published, and the original is not in any public collection, I venture to give it without any abridgement. The envelope is lost; but I should have little hesitation in supplying the name, "Fairfax."

« PreviousContinue »