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comes minglinge with the brieze."-Old MS.

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

tharine offered life and all in the service of their Crossing these high moors about three miles, we afflicted flock. These and other interesting charac. saw Eyam before us, placed in a situation similar to ters, who have acted here a little part of their drama that of Longstone, at the foot of another lofty range of human life, call up a spirit from the dead to of moor-land. As we approached, its situation be- shroud the pilgrim of nature in the solemn influence came every moment more interesting. It appeared of their memories. Some manuscripts of different to stretch along a level about a mile in length. characters of genius or worth, which it has been the Behind, rose that wild, high mountain, whence two fate of this secluded spot to possess, are still in the valleys broke and ran down towards the town; the hands of different individuals in the neighbourhood; one on the right, wide, deep, and gloomy with wood. and many a traditionary story, I doubt not, might be On the slope behind the town was scattered here learnt from the oldest inhabitants, which, if we had and there a pleasant house and plantation: before had time, I should have liked to seek after. Here it, and immediately around it, rose a rich profusion is the tomb of Catherine Mompesson, who fell a of trees, appearing most beautiful amidst the naked-victim to conjugal affection during the plague which

that centering here, expands over the world, cerpente, was suddainly crowded with humane corpses, like the
wherever there is want to be relieved, or in-olde, riche and poore, together; and the inhabitants do now
scemeterie of some anciente citic, faire and foule, younge and
jury to be redressed, or sorrow to be comfort- soberly averre, that, on drearie blusterous dayes, the buriale carte
will be seen wearilie trailinge up the dede man's hill, a sheeted
ed; now depopulating the pirate's dungeon; grstlie companie gathering about those mountaine tombs and
now unfettering the distant African. Con- sometimes on summer evenings, a sounde of solemne psalmes
quering, with Victory, herself a captive;
a willing captive in the triumph of Hu-
manity. 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 imperish-
able 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 splen-
dors 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 lit-
tle 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

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.]


7th Month, 1820.


(Continued from page 355.)


ness of the surrounding country. Descending still
from our lofty situation, Middleton Dale, like a
deep abyss, with its awful perpendicular rocks run-
ning 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 be-
tween 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."

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 "The wilde heathe which heretofore had only received into purest enjoyments of artificial existence, in the very its bosome the carcases of the salvage beastes, or the patiente bosom of nature's most romantic glens. Our first sheepe, that dumbly suffering dies, and bleaching awaye in the visit was, as usual, to the church-yard. It has a windes leaves a greene spotte as a memorial of its deathe; or the birde which the shepherde noteth by its bones, talons, and pleasing and venerable aspect, planted round, like feathers, to have bene rente by the cruelle hawke or charning many in the peak villages, with flourishing limes,

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 Padulphí
Carr nuper de Cockin in Comitatu Dunelmennis
Armogeri Sepulta Vicissimo Quinto Die Augud
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 arms 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 in-
movable, 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 ov
safety, became his coustant and most anima
helpmate in all his most arduous and perilous act-
tions; could not fail to make a deep impression en
a mind like Howard's. Near the tomb stands &
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 was fortunate the old woman died first, or one might suspect from the last line that she had murdered "Dear Isaac" by an ungodly tongue à some other fatal weapon.

On the tower is fixed the following, remarkale for the skilful division of its lines:

"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 Hartington:

"Here lies my three children dear,
Two at Hartington, and one here;
They are gone to rest I hope in heaven;
One thousand eight hundred and seven.

Our next visit was to the glen where the people used to assemble, during the plague, for divine worship, and their pastor addressed them from a rock. This excellent man by his influence prevailed upon his parishioners not to flee at the breaking out of the plague, and thus to carry it into a multitude of places, but to remain in their own village, and by every wise endeavour, by prayer, and by every prudent regulation, to remove the dreadful calamity. This piety and wisdom well merited the astonishing confidence of his flock. He was their pillar of earthly hope, and their director, and inspirer of a higher; their physician, and pastor, and friend. To avoid the dangerous consequences of assembling in the church, they met in an adjoining glen where each could sit apart, and their invaluable teacher could deliver his addresses from a rock opposite to them. This is the woody dell we saw as we approached, to the left of the road, as we entered the town. This is a delightful


"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,
Che'l sol non í entra non che mína vesta
Dentro lítto vi fan tinere erbitte

Ch 'invitano a posaree chi s'appresenta."


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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-
each other towards the farther end, and covered |triotism which are recorded with so much applause,
with trees that unite their boughs far above you because they were displayed on the theatre of mighty
and form a sort of savage grotto. A chasm above, nations, and it is easy to conceive in the fame they
large enough to admit a man, runs far between the would purchase, an adequate excitement; but that
approximating sides of the rocks, down which a patriotism which devoted its possessor to death in
stream comes rushing, and all below is a rude scene the eyes of a few hundreds of lowly and undistin-
of scattered crags, damp and cold, and overrun with guished individuals, which thus rose and exerted
tall ramping plants, the chervil, the sweet cicely, itself in the depth of those obscure glens, unsoothed
and the red lychnis; while the long green fronds of by the hope of consequent renown, unwelcomed
the hart's-tongue, and various ferns, hang with the by the anticipations of earthly recompense, must
beautiful blue tussocks of the waving harebell from draw its vigour from a deeper source, and that
the dank cliffs. This romantic valley, in short, source could be nothing less than the promises of
combines almost every attribute that a poetic fancy the Gospel. But when the fury of the tempest ac-
can bestow upon the most beautiful rural seclusion. tually descended; when he saw around him nothing
Though close to the town, its high surrounding but haggard terror and dissolution, in every appal-
hills impress you with the idea of complete isola-ling shape; when every domestic hearth, where his
tion from the world; a profound silence for ever holy inculcations had tightened the bonds of nature,
dwells there; and its verdure, and mingling shade and raised peace, affection, and happiness, were
and sunny slopes sooth deliciously the musing scenes of the most dismal confusion; the dead, the
fancy, which the wilder features of the place had dying, and the terrified, all claiming his attention;
startled and expanded. Here, on Sabbath evenings, and when, to close the melancholy climax, his be-
the inhabitants of the village resort to walk and loved wife, who had in vain been urged to retire
read in its shady recesses. Here you may well
from the contagious spot who had assisted his
imagine in past ages some holy anchorite's abode, counsels and partaken of his labours for his afflicted
like that described by Spencer:
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 po-
tent, 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 dis-
tractions 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 magnani-
mous 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

"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 At the bottom of Middleton Dale, stupendous affectionate parlance of all the more passionate rocks with trees, like those we just spoke of, sur- and sentimental lovers of the neighbouring village rounded the entrance. About a hundred yards is for ages: but most of all, the idea of that solemn open to the road, destitute of bushes, grassy, and assembly dwells upon the imagination, when terrors grazed by sheep. A wall there runs across it, and and desolation hovered over the place, and death was mass of trees seem to close the entrance. Passing busy amongst the panic-struck multitude: when over the walls among the trees, a footpath leads you all communication was cut off with every other up the middle of the dell, amidst an assemblage place, and every one expected bis fate the next, of wild and beautiful scenes which it is impossible and hopeless of this world, came to listen to the to describe. On the one hand are vast precipices, promises of a better, from the pious, affectionate, on the other a steep bank runs up to an astonish- 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 sur rounding 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.



Dearest Ellen, what can move thee
Still to harbour doubt and fear?
There's nought on earth I prize above thee,
There's nought on earth I love so dear,

Full many weary hours are past;

Full many a deep and heart-wrung sigh I've breathed since I beheld thee last,

And gaz'd upon thy jet-black eye.
But rolling years may pass away, love;
Mighty empires rise and fall;
Still each slow-revolving day, love,
Thy remembrance must recal.

Think not, dear maid, this constant heart
Will ever change; for, oh! believe me,

I'd scorn to act so base a part,

As first to win, and then deceive thee.

Then let not idle fears oppress thee,
Dear to me thou'lt always be ;

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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.


15th May, 1821.


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 wine;

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 J

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 snout,
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!



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 yale kom un ce me; I hev a Bad Kowd, am Hill in my Bow Hills, and hev lost my Happy Tight."


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 29.6429.63 29.49 29.67 29.64 1809 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 30.10 29.53 30.19 29.90 29.64 30.06 29.79 30.11 30.08 29.61 29.76 29.89 1813 1814 29.51 30.16 29.79 29.88 30.14 30.12 29.99 30.00 30.15 29.8329.77 29.42 1815 29.95 29.86 29.75 30 00 30.00 29.96 30.14 30.00 30.00 29.94 30.04 29.84 1816 29.69 29.89 29.83 29.82 29.92 30.02 29.72 30.0229.95 29.90 29.8229.75 29.83 29.95 29.87 30.39 29.84 29.92 29.85 29.74 30.04 30.10 29.98 29.63 1817 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 29.72 129.80 29.13 29.73 29.83

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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 Phenomena, or singular Facts in Natural History, Vegetation, &c.; Antiquities, &c.; to be continued in a Series through the Volume.]



MEAN HEIGht of the barometeR AT MANCHESTER:

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


Feb. March April May June July Aug. Sept.


Nov. Dec.



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29.72 29.72 29.71
.08m. .06p. .04p. .03p. .10p. 06p. .07p. .04p. .05m. .05m. .06m.1
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
Ditto...... 29.78 29.81 29.87 29.86 29.89 29.98 29.89 29.94 29.92 29.80 29.76 29.76
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
Diff. from the Gen. An. Mean .04m.
Mr. Dalton's

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29.70.05 m.



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ral 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′′|

.09m. .09m. .06p. 03p. .02m. .11p. .07p. .07p. 09p. .09m. .02m. 06m.
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.

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°.

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.

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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,
In glancing upon the above table, it will be observed,
that each column points out the monthly means of four-
teen 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.

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 in the two last are found from 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 sheaves of corn and other valuables. It has not been so 200 yards from the former one, and the situation of the 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 from 25 years' observations in Man chester; namely, from 1794 to 1818, both inclusive,

The whole of the results I will arrange as under:

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 fix a mean elevation of 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 Nas suck 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 cf 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




Which appeared in three Numbers of our present
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."
"My verie honble good Lord,

within their proper boundaries; and, by having an op-
portunity of comparing various countenances collec-
ted 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 Eu-
ropean 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 ex- "I have received the honor of your kynd letter which
amples for imitation. The contemplation of others, was both seasonable and comfortable. I am now in
who, through long and benevolent lives, have con- a worser condition with these people than ever; for
stantly endeavoured, by every means in their power, Preston is lost again to us, and that by the cowardli-
to make themselves useful to their fellow creatures, ness of the soldiers, and by the malignants within the
produces a pleasing emotion, at once proving the tri- towne, who declared themselves enemies so soon as
umph of virtue and humanity over every other sensa- the enemies forces assaulted, and shot upon our gards
tion. Turning again to the violent and sanguinary re- within the towne, from the windows, which was a
volutionist, how different is the sensation on looking cheef cause they were beat from their postes. I in-
at his countenance! We fancy that in every feature juced Preston and Lancaster a month peaceably; and
we can discover the self-malignant smile at the idea of so, after I had given order for making of some workes
thousands of victims immolated at the bloody shrine of for defence of the towne, I had layd a plott for the
ambition; and the mind sickens when the eye beholds the takeing of Warinton, and came to Manchester for
likenesses of lovely females who were butchered to ap- that purpose, to make preparation. The next morn-
pease the brutal passions of remorseless and sanguinary ing Serjeant Major Sparrow sends me a letter by a
tyrants. Again, we behold the figures of noble and post, shewing me that there was a Spanish ship blowne
eminent statesmen, whose chief ambition was, to con-in with a storme, to Weyre (Wyre) waters, and had a
tribute to the glory and prosperity of their country; lake, their pylot being dead, desired help. The Ser-
and we feel a sensation of reverential respect when we jeant Major takes three companies with him, and sent
read their various and expressive countenances. him other 3, and thus marched towards the ship,
Though last, not least, we turn to lovely woman: how when the Captens were come a shoare, at Rosehall
cold must be that heart that can contemplate their (Rossall.) The next day the Spanyards came a shoare
lovely features and not let fall the tear of pity at the to the number of 400. Upon the 3d day my Lord
recollection of the sufferings and the fate of many of comes over the ford at Hisksbank (Heskethsbank)
this fairer portion of creation; and, in the enthusiasm with 300 horse. Our foot would not advance to the
of our feelings, we regret that we could not start for- ship, fearing that my Lord had had foot as well as
ward to their defence, while we curse the memory of horse; so they marched over to the other syde of the
those brutal and ferocious monsters who could imbrue water, to preserve the ammunition which they had
their hands in their innocent blood. We then gaze on gotton out of the ship. There were but 12 musqueteers
the features of her whose memory is delightful to every left in the ship; and these fled away: so my Lord of
British heart: looking at her, we recollect the many Darbie approaches the ship and puts fire in her, and
virtues of one, whose chief delight (did she yet exist) burnt all; and so retired home again at the ford of
would be to make her people happy under her reign. Hisksbank. Then Colonel Doddin and Mr. Towinson
Surely an exhibition possessing such claims to the at- (quære?) were taken prisoners; for they could not
tention of the lovers of taste and ingenuity, ought to believe but that the enemie were our people, they
be duly appreciated. To the ladies it affords the pleas- were so drunk with the joy of the ship, which, tho
ing reflection that this truly-gratifying entertainment it was burned, we recovered all the ordnance, to the
is the work of one of their own sex, who, by her own number of 22, whereof 8 were of brass, 2 demican-
individual exertion, has been enabled to render this nons, 1 minion, 5 sacres, whereof 3 were broke and
collection highly creditable to her talents, as an artist, made useless. It was in this interim that we got up the
and particularly edifying and instructive to the learned canons to the Castle of Lancaster: Sir John Girlinton
as well as to others, by affording them the pleasure of and Mr. Teilsley (Tildsley) and others had sent for
viewing the wonderful and astonishing difference of forces from some parts of Yorksheare, and got a quan-
form with which Nature has stamped the different tity of armes, and so invited my Lord to come again,
countenances of men. To young persons, in particu- they wold joyn with his Co.; which my Lord did,
lar, it demonstrates the absolute necessity of render- returned presentlie, with 7 companies of foot, 5
ing themselves familiar with the lives of those who troops of horse, & peeces of cannons; and, being in
have enjoyed the love, or writhed beneath the execra- the Fyld countrey, where all are Papists, they resorted
tion, of their fellow-men; and the necessity of choosing all to him, with the best armes they had, some mus-
that path, by pursuing which, they will ensure the quets, many horse, and infinit number of beilmen.-
esteem of good men here, and a glorious name here- Just about this time, the soldiers of Preston rose up in
a mutinie, about 100 madmen, with polaxes, and they
sought to have my heart blood, why, forsuth, I had
given a soldier a knok or 2, for shooting off his peece
between 6 and 7 at night, after the watch was set. By
Gods mercie I had past threw a howse neere to the
gard; and so went throw barns and stables to see some


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.

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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 companies of soldiers; the cannon was carrying up to the Castle: Manchester, Bolton, Preston were stryving who should have the best peeces; but having intelligence 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 refrom 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 comhim 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, wold be a means to relieve them of Lancaster, who were besieged by these troopes. The Colonell being half way at Gerstein (Garstang) had no corage to go on; 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 soone out of the place, but 2 scouts of the enemies rydes back and advertised them. Imediately they assault Lancaster, and were beatten of again, had not a soldier cryed We have no powder! so they made a fresh assault, and came and burnt the towne, for the most pt. our soldiers retired to the church and castle. I, hearing of this, knew, that in case I relieved them not presently, they must surrender men, armes, and canons to the enemie. The next day I got upon my horse, sore as I was, with eleven companies of foot, some few ill-mounted horse, who durst not look the enemie in the face, and with these I marched to Lancaster, having left in garrison, in Preston, 4 companies of foote, a troop of horse of Captn. Dukinfield, with 500 clubmen; Coll. Holland being in towne, and Sergeant Major Chantrell. I marched in a closse way, having nor horse nor canons yet in view of the enemie. So soon as I was past they knew I would relieve Lancaster. The enemie marched forward to attempt against Pres ton, which they carried maliceuslie. I was to march from Lancaster about two of the clock again; but no soldier would stir, in regard they were wearied, having marched 20 myles. The next morning, being reddie to march, none wold stay in Lancaster. Coll. Stankies 3 companies, who were into it, caused beat their drums in spyt of my teeth; and when I caused shut the gates, they swore they wold fire the canons and the castle, and began, so that I was fain to cause set open the gates. None of Coll. Shuttleworths regiment weld stay, so that I was in a greater perplexity than ever. At last 2 of Coll. Hollands regiment sayd, Sir, we will stay if you will stay, but not els.' I was forced to stay in the Castle, and send the other away to Preston; but about mid way news came to them that Preston was taken by my Lord. Sergeant Major writ this to me by post, and desires me to retire me by the way of Clethro' (Clitheroe) and by night, otherwyse I could not escape. I mayd this known to the two Cap tens with me; they said this was no place for me to be in, neither wold they stay after me. So I parted out of the castle, and wrot to the liftienents how things stood; desiring them, if the soldiers wold not stay to defend the castle, to retire the same way to Clethro'. It seems the companies had got salt beef and porke for a month or 2, and there is water in the castle, so that if we can relieve them against that time it is well: but I dispare of that, seeing it is to farre from us, above 40 myles. This ship has been the cause of all our sorrow, having our troops divyded only to gett these canons. But it is Gods pleasure thus to deal with vain man, who puts their confidence in canons and men more than in God. And now I am at Manchester: scarcely dare I come into the strectes for feare of killing of me." We are presently to go to the feelds and seek the enemie, and either fight with them or attempt some towne. But yet I am in as bad a case as before; the soldiers say they will kill me, because I gave them not the plundrage and papists goods of Preston, which

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