Talking of prisons, the following lines are some of the best which were ever cut upon glass: they are said to have been left as a memorial on the window of his cell, by a gentleman who, in 1715, passed some time in prison. "That which the world miscals a gaol, A private closet is to me, Whilst a good conscience is my bail, Some entertaining specimens are given of a manuscript diary which the Editor rescued from the trunk-makers. We make room for an article or two. July 27.-Sir John Murray, late secretary to the Pretender, was, on Thursday night, carried off by a party of strange men, from a house in Denmark-street, near St. Giles's Church, where he has lived some time. The following explanation of this curious affair appears in a paper of this morning; SIR, Friday, 4 o'clock. "As your profession renders you the innocent instrument of imposing upon the world the guilty falsehoods of anonymous writers, it will do you credit and me justice, to open the eyes of your readers, whose judgments are misled by a malicious representation of the supposed enlèvement of sir John Murray. The tender bonds of filial affection, joined to a friendly sympathy, are coercive motives to induce me to take every step that might prevent an insane parent from exposing himself to the people, in a state which renders him as ridiculous and contemptible, as his former conduct has made him criminal before them. To this effect, every delicate and legal step was taken; nor would the most distant knowledge of his unhappy situation have transpired, but from the malevolence of your anonymous authors, who are influenced to propagate their infamous falsehoods, from being withheld in the execution of their several projects, of imposing upon his weakness, and preying upon his substance, of which they and their coadjutors have already experienced the douceurs. "Let your readers therefore know, that a peace-officer, his two sons, and two servants, (neither ruffians nor bravoes) unarmed, and without violence, attended him, and prevailed upon him to leave a house, where the meanest mechanics of different denominations gratified their curiosity, and boasted of interviews with mad secretary Murray the neighbourhood of which house, the very day he removed, were spectators of his insanity in the streets; that they neither rushed into, but were peaceably admitted into his apartment,nor bound, nor put a straight waistcoat upon, nor extorted a cry from him; that the neighbourhood were neither alarmed nor apprised of the affair, 'till some time after the coach left it; nor would have been so, but through the means of his late landlady: that he was, with every mark of tenderness and respect, conveyed to, and placed under the care of Dr. Battie; and give them, if you please, for authority, the "Your humble servant, name of 6 "ROBERT MURRAY." January 8.-The great bell at St. Paul's tolled this morning, for the death of the princess dowager of Wales. In her last interview with the king, she wrung his hand very hard, and in words to this effect took her leave of him. " My dear son, you are the king of a great people; be, if possible, the king of a happy one; study the real welfare of your subjects, not the wishes of the factious; and may you gain a brighter crown in heaven, than that which I leave you on earth!" January 22.-Died in Emanuel hospital, Mrs. Wyndimore, cousin of Mary, queen of William. III. as well as of queen Anne. Strange revolution of fortune! that the cousin of two queens should, for fifty years, be supported by charity! January 31.-Died, Henry Cromwell, Esq. great grandson of Oliver Cromwell, of illustrious memory. May 19.-Dreadful fire at Amsterdam. The great theatre of this city has been burnt to the ground, and thirty-one persons have perished in the conflagration. The fate of Mr. Jacob de Neufville Van Lennep and his lady is particularly deplored. In the rush which every one made to escape from the flames, Mr. Lennep lost hold of his wife, and was carried forward in spite of himself, out of the reach of danger. So great, however, was his affection for his wife, that he was heard to declare, that unless she too were rescued, he must perish with her. Accordingly, he forced his way back into the house, offering, aloud, fifty thousand crowns to any one who would assist in saving her; but vain were all his efforts. Next morning, the wife and husband were dug from the ruins, locked in each other's arms! 1774, April 4.-Died, Dr. Oliver Goldsmith. Deserted is the Village; the Traveller hath laid him down to rest; the Good Natured Man is no more: he Stoops but to Conquer; the Vicar hath performed his sad office; it is a mournful lesson, from which the Hermit may essay to meet the dread tyrant with more than Roman fortitude. May.-Died, at Hagley, in Worcestershire, my old acquaintance John Tice. He had reached the extraordinary age of one hundred and twenty-five. His life was one of ease and comfort. The greatest misfortune (as he lately declared) which had ever befallen him, was the death of his only friend lord Lyttleton. He took that loss so much to heart, that he never left his room after until his death.' pp. 306-12. But there is no end to giving extracts from such a multifarious medley as the present. These may suffice as a sample. We will own that we have found the volume highly amusing after dinner, and have been pleased with the perfect unaffectedness of the Compiler. There are no antiquarian airs about him, no pretence to extensive reading, no oracular dicta respecting men and things; and if the volume displays no great research,scarcely enough, we fear, to entitle Mr. Collet to add F.A.S. to his A,M.-it contains, upon the whole, much that is in teresting, with less refuse than usually goes to make up similar compilations. We thought we had dismissed the volume; but the following paper has caught our eye, and as it seems quite as good as a great deal that is found in the Scotch novels, we shall make room for it. "WE HAVE A DOUGLAS YET." A Dialogue. The following lively effusion on the result of the famous Douglas cause, appeared immediately after that event in several of the Scottish newspapers. It has strong claims to preservation, not only for its natural simplicity and humour, but as a picture of the general exultation with which the success of "The Douglas" was hailed by the Scottish nation at large. The Author is unknown. It was introduced by the following extract from a letter dated, Lochwinoch, April 17, 1769. "And we too, the inhabitants of this village, rejoiced exceedingly to hear that Mr. Douglas was— -his mother's son! Our sayings and doings upon this occasion, were many, great, and various. A modern quarto could not contain the half of them. I send you only one scene betwixt two of our old women. It was taken down with care by an able hand who was ear witness of the confabulation.- -" I am, &c.” • DIALOGUE. (Elspeth sola, looking through a broken pane of her window.) What can a' this mean? The bells fa'n a ringen! the drums fa'n a beatten! the pipes fa'n a playen! the colours flyen! and a' the folk young and auld, rinnen wi' their guns! What can it be? I hae seen nae sic sight, nae sic hurly-burly, sin Marr's year! It canna be the king of France and the Pretender landed again, for the folks are a' in a joyfu' mood. It maun be some rejoicing about the King of Prussia. It canna be that neither, for its lang sin we heard aught aboot him. Pauli may hae beat the French, or eablens Wilks, that sinfu' fallow, hang'd himsel. It maun surely be some kind o' news frae our laird at parliament. Wives, weans, lads, lasses, auld and young, a'o' fit! • Enter Janet. Jan. (To herself as she enters.) That was ane and a half wi' a witness! Awa' wi' my whiskey! Awa' wi' the tow frae my very rock! The very carded tow frae my rock! But heal be his heart, he is ay for his kintry. (To Elspeth.) I'm e'en, Elspeth, comen herplen ben wi' my cards to clawt the naps out o' a pickle mair o't. What a souple trick, trow ye, has that loon, Rab-my-oye, played me? Is he nae aff wi' my tow for colfin, and to the cross wi' my graybeard o' whiskey? •Els. Wi' your graybeard o' whiskey, say ye? Jan. Ay, wi' my three-pint graybeard o' whiskey, and in a guid hour to drink the parliament and Douglas, who has win his plea. 'Els. Say ye me sae? Say ye me sae, woman? Has Douglas win his plea? Has the parliament at London gi'en Douglas. his plea? Fair fa' them! Fair fa' them, Janet! Oh, Janet, Janet, fair fa' them! (Weeps.) Oh Janet, Janet, Janet! Jan. O Elspeth, yes! O dear ay, yes! Douglas has e'en at last got the better o' them! Ah Elspeth! Poor man! Ay, aye! (both weep.) Els. O Janet! 'Jan. O Elspeth ! • Els. Janet, Janet, ay, ay! Jan. Yes, Elspeth! O ay woman! ay ay! you and I ha'e seen auld times! Monny monny changes! monny changes! Els. Ay, changes, woman! But O ye ha'e gi'en me a glad heart! Is it true? Can it be true? I fear it meikle! 'Jan. True! As true's the sin's in the lift. It's in black and white frae Edinburgh. Els. Black and white frae Edinburgh! frae Edinburgh, say ye? We manna think a's gospel that comes now frae Edinburgh. Baith his faither and mither war ta'en fra him, woman, at Edinburgh! Jan. That's o'er true, Elspeth; but there's guid and ill in Edinburgh, as well's in ither spats. I hae some liking yet for Edinburgh, for a' that's happened, tho' I ne'er saw it. Our kings lived there, woman; and our John's plea about the maillen is there, ye ken. He has win it woman, nae fewer than nine times! But was na't droll, that ere it had been there twa months, his ain man o' law threeped his name was Andrew! Andrew was Arthur's second son. The land, ye ken, was neither conquest nor purchase, but heritage; for it came by Arthur's step father's brither Thomas, and sae fa's to the auld son, and had our John been Andrew, he would ne'er ha'e seen a hair o't. 'Els. Gin ye lose as aft's ye ha'e win, ye'll rue that e'er ye tried it. But O, Janet, are ye sure Douglas has win? Jan. Scripture, Elspeth! downright Scripture! (a volley at the cross.) Do ye hear that? Do ye hear them now? • Els. The guns ! huzza ! huzza! huzza! The drums! Thank heaven there's still a Douglas in our land. O how I like the king, the parliament, and the gallant name of Douglas! But was na't a filthy trick to take awa' the eleven days? That was a wicked thing, Janet; that was a wicked thing, to change our terms, our fairs, our markets; to change the very Sunday to anither day! I wish the land may be forgi'en. I now heartily forgi'e them. Douglas, Douglas, makes up for a'! 'Jan. But, Elspeth, what shall I tell ye? Was nae Piercie his steeve friend? • Els. Piercie, quothye? Piercie his friend? Eh! woman, was na that brave, gallant, o' noble Piercie ? Let it ne'er be heard that * Alluding to the alteration from the old to the new style. Piercie proved his friend, when Scotland proved his fae! But come, cast awa' your cards, and lets ha'e a pint to the king, parliament, and noble name o' Douglas: nor shall we forget Piercie his gallant friend. (A cheer at the cross.) Huzza! huzza! huzza! (Elspeth repeats after them.) Three huzzas, Janet. Bless their honest sauls! A's right now; this kintry will yet stand! I now forgie the very Union itsel! But Janet, let's first hirple out and see the fun, then we shall ha'e a warm bicker o' the best o't. (In going out, both sing in turn.) ""Lord Douglas on a milk-white steed, Most like a baron bold, Rode foremost of the company, Whose armour shone like gold, &c.” ' There are some typographical errors which ought to have been noticed. A very gross one occurs at page 261: Quanto minus est cum religius' &c. for reliquiis. Prefixed to the volume is a large folding plate containing forty-six autographs of royal, noble, and otherwise illustrious personages. Art. VII. Confessions of an English Opium Eater. f.cap 8vo. pp. 206. Price 5s. London. 1822. WE have for some time hesitated whether or not to notice this strange production. As a biographical romance, in which light we were at first led to consider it, the volume contains so much that is objectionable and positively disgusting, that we should have not thought it advisable to give it a place in our pages. But as it aspires to the character of a medical document, we cannot altogether pass it over. An unauthenticated statement like the present, could not, indeed, be safely assumed as data for any conclusion of a scientific kind. The veracity and the competency of the witness, would require to be first ascertained; and in the present case, superadded to the usual fallaciousness of the accounts furnished by patients of themselves, we have the uncertainty arising from the patient's being an opium drunkard, and his discovering, notwithstanding his experience in the use of the article, great ignorance of his subject. It is somewhat strange that he should have chosen to designate himself as an Opium-eater. From all that appears in the narrative, we have not been able to discover that he ever ate a grain of opium in his life. Had he called himself an English laudanum-drinker, the title of the volume might have been less attractive, but it would have corresponded to the fact. All his debauches appear to have been committed with the tincture of opium, never with the solid substance. In only one place, so far as we recollect, is there any reference to his having, at any time made use of the crude opium. It occurs |