by Roderigo, and to make it clear that the diseased had really and truly an evil spirit within her, he made her speak Latin, and hold a disputation on philosophy. She made public the sins of people, and particularly those of a monk who had disguised a female more than four years under the dress of a young friar; which things people much marvelled at. Messer Ambrogio, however, was truly miserable, and had lost all hopes of a cure, when Matteo having heard of the case, came to him, and told him, that if he would give him 500 florins to purchase him a little farm at Ponterolo, he would restore the lady to her perfect senses. Ambrogio accepted the offer, upon which Matteo having ordered several masses to be said, and numerous mysterious ceremonies to be performed, in order the better to conceal the business, he accosted the lady, and whispering into her ear, said, 'Koderigo, I am now come to thee that thou mayest perform thy promise:' to which Roderigo answered, But this sum is not enough to make thee rich, therefore as soon as I depart from this, I will cast myself into the daughter of Charles, King of Naples, nor will I depart from her till thou comest to me. Thou wilt then make thy own demand to the king, and after this never trouble me more. This said, he came forth from the lady, to the great amazement and joy of all present. It was but a few months after, that the news was spread through Italy of the accident which had befallen King Charles's daughter. All the attempts of the monks proving ineffectual, to relieve her, and the king having heard of Matteo, immediately despatched a messenger to Florence to fetch him. Matteo arrived soon at Naples, and, after some artful practices, removed the evil spirit from the lady; but before Roderigo quitted his hold, he said, Matteo, thou seest I have kept my word with thee in enriching thee; I therefore am under no obligations whatever to thee; do not ever thou attempt to appear before me, because I might hereafter do thee much harm, instead of the good I have done thee.' Matteo, returning to Florence very rich, for the king had given him 50,000 ducats, thought of enjoying his

wealth in comfort, unconscious that Roderigo would ever do him any injury; but this hope was soon frustrated by news that the daughter of Louis VII. of France, was possessed of the evil spirit; this quite upset the mind of Matteo, considering the power of that king, and coupling, withal, the threat of Roderigo, if ever he appeared before him. Meanwhile, Louis unable to find a cure for his daughter, and being told of Matteo's power of exorcism, sent at first a messenger to request his attendance; but Matteo alleging indisposition as an excuse, the king was obliged to apply to the government, who compelled Matteo to obedience. In great grief and perturbation of mind did Matteo arrive at Paris; he told the king that certainly there were such things by which he had formerly cured persons possessed with the devil, but that was not the case with all such, because there were some of so wicked a nature, that neither threats, exorcism, or religious cere monies could move them; yet that he would certainly do his best, but that, should his endeavours prove useless, he entreated his majesty to pardon him. The king, greatly disappointed and incensed, replied, that if he did not cure his daughter, he certainly should be hanged. Matteo, of course, felt much alarmed at his ticklish situation; nevertheless, summoning up his whole stock of courage, he desired the lady might be called in, and with all humility, in a whisper, entreated Roderigo to take pity on him, reminding him of what he had formerly done by him; to which Roderigo answered, Treacherous villain, hast thou the boldness to appear before me? dost thou forget I made thee the rich man thou art? I will now show thee and the world how I can bestow gifts, and bereave mortals of them at pleasure, and before thou quittest this place, I'll have thee gibbetted.' Matteo, conceiving he was lost, and seeing no other means of escape, determined to try his fortune in another way; therefore, desiring the lady might be dismissed, he said to the king, Sire, I have already told your majesty that there are such malignant spirits, against which nothing will avail, and this is one; however, I will try one last expe

riment, which, should it succeed, will make your majesty and myself most happy; should it fail, I hope your majesty will feel that compassion towards me that my innocence deserves. To this effect your majesty will please to order that a large platform be erected at the piazza of Our Lady, large enough to contain your barons and clergy, decking the railing with cloths, silks, and gold fringes; in the middle of this platform I wish an altar to be placed, and on Sunday morning next I wish your majesty to attend in solemn and royal pomp, with all your barons, and clergy in their richest canonicals, when high mass shall be chanted, and the lady brought forth. Besides these things, I do request that a group of at least twenty persons be placed at one corner of the square, with each a trumpet, horn, bugle, cymbals, drums, kettle drums, or other terrific instruments, who, at the waving of my hat, shall immediately strike up and walk on towards the platform; this and certain other exorcisms will, I hope, drive the evil spirit from the lady. Every thing was ordered by his majesty which Matteo desired; on the Sunday morning the king, barons, clergy and populace being assembled, the mass was celebrated, and the lady brought up to the platform by two bishops, and several noblemen. Roderigo, when he beheld such a multitude collected together, was almost confounded: What the devil does this dastardly scoundrel mean to do,' said he to himself; 'does he think to frighten me by all this show and bustle? does he not know that I am used to all the pomp and splendour

of hell? but I will punish him, that I will.' Matteo approached him, and entreated him to be gone. What do you mean,' said Roderigo, do you think to terrify me by all these preparations? dost thou think to shelter thyself from my power and the king's rage? wretch! scoundrel that thou art! I'll have thee hanged cost what it may;' and at it they went, abusing each other, till at last Matteo thought it would be useless to lose any more time, and gave the signal by waving his hat. All those that had been ordered played up, and with an infernal noise approached the scaffold. Roderigo, at this horrid cry and noise, pricked up his ears, and remained stupified, not knowing what it could mean, and asking Matteo what all that meant. Matteo, seeming quite alarmed, said, 'Oh, Roderigo, it is your wife, it is your wife that is coming toward you! At the hearing his wife's name, no one could credit the agitation, fright, and terror it threw him into; and without considering the improbability of its being so, he was so thunder struck that he instantly made off in a bustle, and left the lady free, preferring to go back to hell and give an account of his mission, to encountering the vexations, spite, trouble, hardships, and dangers, to which the marriage yoke had subjected him. Thus Belphagor returned to the infernal regions, gave a true and circumstantial account of all the evils which a wife brings into a house, and Matteo, highly delighted with his exploit, and at having outwitted the devil, returned home in raptures."

him with books and every thing that could make him comfortable, and sent lim away with a tender mother's blessing. There, for several years, she maintained him with every comfort he could wish. The youth having every advantage, improved greatly, and became an excellent scholar, and by his gentleman-like manners, correct conduct, and great talents, had gained the affections of all his fellow collegians. It happenned, that having become, after some years, a doctor in law, and being nearly on the eve of his return to Naples, he was taken seriously ill, whereupon all the best physicians of Bologna anxiously endeavoured to save his life, but had no hopes of success. Carlo, perceiving he was a lost man, said to himself, I do not care so much for myself, as for my poor, dear moth er, who will no longer have a son, for whom she has sacrificed her all, and whom she expected would become her consolation, who might form some great alliance, and thereby restore our family name. Now, if she hears I am dead, and has not the comfort of seeing me once again, she will assuredly die with excessive grief. This reflection, more than the loss of his own life, overwhelmed him with sorrow. This thought ever uppermost in his mind, suggested the idea of contriving some means to prevent his mother from being overpowered by her grief; he therefore immediately wrote to her in the following words: My dearest Moth er, I do intreat that you would be kind enough to get me a shirt made by the most beautiful and the most happy lady you can find in Naples, she who is most free from the cares or sorrows of this world.' The letter being despatched and coming to hand, the mother immediately considered of the means of satisfying this request, and how she could find one; she inquired among all her acquaintances where she could meet such an unconcerned, and indifferent, and easy-minded woman; but the task was arduous, yet she was determined to do her son's will. The lady, however, searched to such effect, that she at last found one, who appeared so cheerful, so beautiful, and so 50 ATHENEUM VOL. 14.

happy, and so unconcerned, that she seemed incapable of feeling a single unpleasant thought. Madame Corsina, fancying she had found the very person she was in search of, went to the lady, who received her very politely. Madame Corsina said to her, 'Can you guess what I am come for? it is because looking upon you as the most cheerful lady in Naples, and the freest from painful thoughts or troubles; I wish to ask of you a very great favour, that is, that you would make a shirt for me with your own hands, that I may send it to my son, who has earnestly entreated me to get it made by such a one as yourself.' The young lady answered, You say you consider me the most cheerful young woman in Naples.' Yes,' said Madame Corsina. Now,'

added the lady, 'I will prove to you it is quite the reverse, and that there never was born, perhaps, a more unfortunate woman than myself, or who has more sorrows and heavy afflictions and that you may be convinced of this,' said she, 'come with me;' and taking her hand, she led her into an inner chamber, where, drawing aside a curtain, she pointed to a skeleton which was hanging upon a beam; upon which Madame Corsina exclaimed, "Oh, heavens! what means this?" The young lady mournfully sighed, then said, This was a most worthy youth who was in love with me; my husband finding him with me caused him directly to be hung as you see; and, to increase my agonies, he compels me to come and see the unfortunate youth every night and morning; think what must be my anguish at being obliged to see him thus daily; yet, if you wish it, I will do as you desire; but, as to being the most cheerful, unconcerned, and happy person, I am, on the contrary, the most wretched woman that was ever on earth.' The dame remained in perfect astonishment, and said, 'Well, I see clearly that no one is free from troubles and calamities, and that those who appear the most happy to us, are often the most wretched.' She therefore took leave of the lady, returned home, and wrote to her son, that he must excuse her if she could not send

the shirt, for she could not find a single individual who was free from troubles and sorrows. After a few days a letter arrived, stating that her son was dead; she, therefore, wisely thought to herself, that as she clearly saw no one was ever free from misfortunes and

tribulations, even the very best of women; she would therefore take comfort, more especially as she perceived she was not the only one, and thereby quieted her mind, and lived more happily by her submission to the decree of heaven."

DEAR CHRISTOPHER,

ON the top of a wild height, called Crownscroft, where the lands of three proprietors meet all at one point, there has been, for long and many years, the grave of a suicide, marked out by a stone standing at the head, and another at the feet. Often have I stood musing over it myself when a shepherd on one of the farms of which it formed the extreme boundary, and thinking what could induce a young man, who had scarcely reached the prime of life, to brave his Maker, and rush into his presence by an act of his own erring hand, and one so unnatural and preposterous; but it never once occurred to me as an object of curiosity, to dig up the mouldering bones of the culprit, which I considered as the most revolting of all objects. The thing was, however, done last month, and a discovery was made of one of the greatest natural phenomena that I ever heard of in this country.

The little traditionary history that remains of this unfortunate youth, is altogether a singular one. He was not a native of the place nor would he ever tell from what place he came, but he was remarkable for a deep, thoughtful, and sullen disposition. There was nothing against his character that any body knew of, and he had been a considerable time in the place. The last service he was in was with a Mr. Anderson of Eltrieve, who died about 100 years ago, and who had hired him during the summer to herd a stock of young cattle in Eltrieve Hope. It happened one day in the month of September, that James Anderson, his master's son, a boy then about ten years of age, went with this young man to the Hope one day, to divert himself. The

herd had his dinner along with him;

and, about one o'clock, when the boy proposed going home, the former pressed him very hard to stay and take a share of his dinner; but the boy refus ed, for fear his parents might be alarmed about him, and said he would go home; on which the herd said to him, "Then if ye winna stay wi' me, James, ye may depend on't I'll cut my throat afore ye come back again."

I have heard it likewise reported, but only by one person, that there had been some things stolen out of his master's house a good while before, and that the boy had discovered a silver knife and fork, that was a part of the stolen property, in the herd's possession that day, and that it was this discovery that drove him to despair. The boy did not return to the Hope that afternoon; and, before evening, a man coming in at the pass called the Hart Loup, with a drove of lambs, ou the way for Edinburgh, perceived something like a man standing in a strange frightful position at the side of one of Eldinhope hay-ricks. The driver's attention was riveted on this strange, uncouth figure; and as the drove-road passed at no great distance from the spot, he first called, but receiving no answer, he went up to the spot, and behold it was the above-mentioned young man, who had bung himself in the hay rope that was tying down the rick. This was accounted a great wonder, and every one said, if the devil had not assisted him, it was impossible the thing could have been done, for in general these ropes are so brittle, being made of green hay, that they will scarcely bear to be bound over the rick. And the more to horrify the good people of the neighbourhood, the driver

said, that when he first came in view, he could almost give his oath that he saw two people engaged busily about the hay-rick, going round it and round it,and he thought they were dressing it. If this asseveration approximated at all to the truth, it makes this evident at least, that the unfortunate young man had hanged himself after the man with the lambs came in view. He was, however, quite dead when he cut him down. He had fastened two of the old hay ropes at the bottom of the rick on one side, (indeed they are all fastened so when first laid on,) so that he had nothing to do but to loosen two ends on the other side; and these he tied in a knot round his neck, and then, slackening his knees, and letting himself lean down gradually till the hay rope bore all his weight,he contrived to put an end to his existence in that way. Now the fact is, that if you try all the ropes that are thrown over all the outfield hay ricks in Scotland, there is not one among a thousand of them will hang a colley dog-so that the manner of this wretch's death was rather a singular circumstance.

Early next morning Mr. Anderson's servants went reluctantly away, and, taking an old blanket with them for a winding-sheet, they rolled up the body of the deceased, first in his own plaid, letting the hay-rope still remain about his neck, and then rolling the old blanket over all, they bore the loathed remains away the distance of three miles or so on spokes, to the top of Cowan's Croft, at the very point where the Duke of Buccleuch's land, the laird of Drumelzier's, and Lord Napier's meet; and there they buried him, with all that he had on him and about him, silver knife and fork and all together. Thus far went tradition, and no one ever disputed one jot of the disgusting oral tale.

A nephew of that Mr. Anderson, who was with the hapless youth that day he died, says, that, as far as he can gather from the relations of friends that he remembers, and of that same uncle in particular, it is one hundred and five years next month, (that is, September 1823,) since that event happened; and I think it likely that this

gentleman's information is correct. But sundry other people, much older than he whom I have consulted, pretend that it is six or seven years more. They say they have heard that Mr. James Anderson was then a boy ten years of age; that he lived to an old age, upwards of fourscore, and it is two-and-forty years since he died. Whichever way it may be,it was about that period some way, of that there is no doubt. Well, you will be saying, that, excepting the small ornamental part of the devil and the hay-rope, there is nothing at all of what you wanted in this ugly traditional tale. Stop a wee bit, my dear Sir Christy. Dinna just cut afore the point. Ye ken auld fools an' young bairns shouldna see things that are half done. Stop just a wee bit, ye auld crusty, crippled crabbit, editor body, an' I'll let ye see that the grand phenomenon of Nature's a' to come to yet.

It so happened, sir, that two young men, William Sheil and W. Sword, were out on an adjoining height, this summer, casting peats, and it came into their heads to open that grave in the wilderness, and see if there were any of the bones of the suicide of former ages and centuries remaining. They did so, but opened only about one half of the grave, beginning at the head and about the middle at the same time. It was not long till they came upon the old blanket,-I think they said, not much more than a foot from the surface. They tore that open, and there was the hay-rope lying stretched down alongst his breast so fresh, that they saw at first sight it was made of risp, a sort of long sword-grass that grows about marshes and the sides of lakes. One of the young men seized the rope, and pulled by it, but the old enchantment of the devil remained. It would not break, and so he pulled and pulled at it till the body came up into a sitting posture, with a broad blue bonnet on its head, and a plaid around it, as fresh as that day it was laid in. I never heard of a preservation so wonderful, if it be true as was related to me, for still I have not had the curiosity to go and view the body myself. The features were all so plain,that an acquaintance might easily