flattered, and at laft advised me to make the most of my beauty, for it was now all my portion; but the would have the charity, fince I had no friends, to find me fome, and allow me the greater fhare of the income from my charms; but bid me not fpoil my eyes or features with being a fool, and crying for what I could never recover. 1 very well remember the first calm hour I enjoyed after my undoing, I took a fenfible pleasure in the reflection, that all my relations were dead, and they could not know of my fhame: but the unwilling part I had in the evil, the innocence of my own mind, and the abandoned life, which is full of pleasures, though not half fo full as of forrows, made me at laft ake comfort, and 1, in procefs of time, became, from an inability to bear my own reflections, the most abandoned, but the moft celebrated wanton of the town. I call myself a wanton; but though I was the ilave and inftrument of delight to others, I very feldom, or ever, had a moment of fincere fatisfaction; for the pleasures of a loofe life carry hut half the will with them; and the diffidence, the want of refpect, and the confcioufnefs that neither

has any value for the other, pollute the enjoyment, and pall the gratification into fecret, but mutual fhame and contempt.

Having had an uncommon education by converfing with the many gentlemen of wit and learning, who had no defign upon me, but were friends to my father, my reflections upon the adventures that I met with, were more deep and quick than perhaps are ufual with fuch wretches as myself. But years and experience have added to the abhorrence I have ever had for the practice which my neceflities obliged me to during the vigour of my life. And I have this comfort, that I never loft the love of virtue; but, contrary to the depraved inclination of others who have fallen like me, inftead of being inftrumental to the deftruction of innocents, I have ever endeavoured to preferye all I could from the contagion; and fhall go on in that way of atonement :

I'll teach the 100 believing to beware, And lead the guiltle's footf.ep from the Jnare.

I am, your's, &c.

W. B.

LL fuited matches are productive of fuch complicated mifery, that it is a wonder it should be neceffary to declaim against them, and by arguments and examples, expofe the folly, or brand the cruelty, of fuch parents as facrifice their children to ambition or avarice. Daily experience indeed fhews, that this mifconduct of the old, who, by their

wifiom, should be able to dire& the young, and who either have, or are thought to have, their welfare alone in view, is not only fubverfive of all the blifs of focial life, but often gives rife to events of the most tragical nature. As any truth that regards the peace of families cannot be too often inculcated, I make no doubt but the following hiftory, the truth

of which is known to fome in England, and to almost all France, where it happened, will prove acceptable to the public. At Paris, whofe fplendor and magnificence ftrikes every Stranger with furprize, where motives of pleasure alone feem to direct the actions of the inhabitants, and politeness renders their converfation defirable, fcenes of horror are frequent amidst gaiety and delight; and as human nature is there seen in its most amiable light, it may there, likewife, be feen in its moft fhocking deformity. It must be owned, without a compliment to the French, that fhining examples of exalted virtue are frequent amongst them but when they deviate from its paths, their vices are of as heinous a nature as thofe of the most abandoned and diffolute heathens. The force of truth has made monfieur Bayle acknowledge, that if all the poifonings and affaffinations which the intrigues of Paris give rife to, were known, it would be fufficient to make the most hardened and profligate fhudder. Though fuch bloody events do not happen fo often in London, they are, notwithstanding, but too frequent; and, as the avarice of the old fometimes confpires with the paffions of the young to produce them, the ftory I am going to relate, will, I hope, be not unedifying to the inhabitants of this city.

A citizen of Paris, who, though he could not amafs wealth, for the acquifition whereof he had an inordinate paffion, made, by his unwearied efforts, wherewithal to maintain his finall family handfomely; he had a daughter, whofe beauty feemed to be the gift of heaven, bestowed upon her to increase the happinefs of mankind, though it proved,

in the end, fatal to herself, her lover, and her husband. Monfieur d'Escombas, a citizen advanced in years, could not behold this brilliant beauty without defire; which was, in effect, according to the witty observation of Mr. Pope, no better than wishing to be the dragon which was to guard the Hefperian fruit. The father of Ifabella, for that was the name of the young lady, was highly pleased at meeting with fo advantageous a match for his daughter, as old d'Efcombas was very rich, and willing to take her without a portion; which circumftance was fufficient, in the opinion of a man, whofe ruling paffion was a fordid attachment to intereft, to atone for the want of perfon, virtue, fenfe, and every other qualification. Ifabella, who had no alternative but the choice of a convent or of Mr. d'Efcombas, preferred being configned to his monumental arms, to being, as it were, buried alive in the melancholy gloom of a convent. The confequences of this unnatural union were fuch as might be expected; as madam d'Efcombas in fecret loathed her husband, her temper was in a fhort time fowered by living with him, and the totally loft that ingenuous turn of mind, and virtuous difpofition, which the had received from nature. Certain it is, that a woman's virtue is never in greater danger than when she is married to a man the diflikes; in fuch a cafe, to adhere ftrictly to the laws of honour, is almoft incompatible with the weakness of human nature. Madam d'Efcombas was' courted by feveral young gentlemen of an amiable figure, and genteel addrefs; and it was not long before her affections were entirely fixed by Monjoy, an engineer, who was equally remarkable for the gentility

of

of his perfon, and politeness of his behaviour. There is not a city in the world where married women live with lefs reftraint than at Paris; nothing is more common there, than for a lady to have a declared gallant, if I may be allowed the expreffion; infomuch, that women, in that gay and fashionable place, may be justly faid to change their condition for the reafon affigned by lady Townly in the play, namely, to take off that reftraint from their pleasures which they lay under when fingle. Monfieur d'Escombas was highly mortified to fee Monjoy in fuch high favour with his wife; yet he did not know how to get rid of him, though he had not the leaft doubt that he difhonoured his bed. On the other hand, madam d'Escombas and Monjoy, who looked upon the old man as an obftacle to their pleasures, were impatient for his death; and the lover often declared, in the prefence of his miftrefs, that he was refolved to remove the man who ftood between him and the happiness of calling her his own. In a word, he plainly difcovered his intention of affaffinating her husband, and fhe, by keeping the fecret, feemed to give a tacit confent to his wicked purpose. Their defign was to marry publickly as foon as they could difpatch a man who was equally odious to them both, as a spy who watched ail their motions, and kept them under conftant restraint. It was not long before Monjoy had the opportunity he wished for; he happened accidentally to fup with the hufband of his miftrefs, at a houfe not far from the Luxemburgh palace, and fupper being over, defired him to take a walk with him in the gar. dens belonging to it, which the old man, who dreaded Monjoy as much

as he hated him, did not dare to decline. In their way thither Monjoy found fome pretence or other to quarrel with him; and having joftled him down, juft as they came to the fteps at the entrance of the garden, ftabbed him feveral times in the back, and left him there breathless, and covered all over with wounds, which were given in fuch a manner as made it evident to every body, that he had been treacherously killed. It has been justly observed, that murderers often run headlong into the punishment which they have incurred by their crime; and the conduct of Monjoy fhews this obfervation to be juft. No sooner had he committed the barbarous action above-mentioned, but he went to a commiffary, whose office is much the fame in France with that of a juftice of peace in England, and declared upon oath, that he had killed d'Efcombas in his own defence. The commiffary was at first satisfied with his account, and would have difmiffed him; but Monjoy being in a great flutter, and continuing to fpeak, dropt fome words which gave the commiffary a fufpicion of his guilt. He accordingly fent for the body, and bis fufpicions were confirmed by a view of it. The affaffin was therefore committed to the Chatelet, which is the city-prison at Paris, as Newgate is here; the body was likewife fent there, and, according to custom, expofed to public view, that the relations and friends of the deceased might come and lay claim to it. No fooner was madam d'Efcombas informed of the confinement of her lover, but, blinded with her paffion, he went to visit him in his prifon, and was there detained upon a fufpicion of being an accomplice in the murder.

WA

'ASH a fufficient quantity of fine fand, so as perfectly to separate it from all other fubftances; dry it; pafs it through a fieve to clear it from any grofs particles which would not rife in the washing: take an earthen veffel of a proper fize, and form, for every plant and flower which you intend to preserve; gather your plants and flowers when they are in a state of perfection, and in dry weather, and always with a convenient portion of the stalk heat a little of the dry fand prepared as above, and lay it in the bottom of the veffel, fo as equally to cover it; lay the plant or flower upon it, so as that no part of it may touch the fides of the veffel: fift or shake in more of the fame fand by little and little upon it, so that the leaves may be extended by degrees, and without injury, till the plant or flower is covered about two inches thick: put the veffel into a ftove,

or hot house, heated by little and little to the 50th degree; let it stand there a day or two, or perhaps more, according to the thickness and fucculence of the flower or plant; then gently shake the fand out upon a fheet of paper, and take out the plant, which you will find in all its beauty, the shape as elegant, and the colour as vivid as when it grew.

Some flowers require certain little operations to preserve the adherence of their petals, particularly the tulip, with refpect to which it is neceffary, before it is buried in the fand, to cut the triangular fruit which rifes in the middle of the flower; for the petal will then remain more firmly attached to the stalk.

A hortus ficcus prepared in this manner would be one of the most beautiful and useful curiofities that can be.

with their elegant Plumes unhurt.

ments: but what most attracted my notice was three rooms filled with a great number of foreign fowls, preferved in their lively and beauti ful colours, whofe brilliant appearance, freedom in their plumage,

and