ing with the Duke, and being of a much lower stature than the Duke, who a little inclined towards him, he took the opportunity of giving the blow over his shoulder. "He spoke very frankly of what he had done, and bore the reproaches of those who spoke to him, with the temper of a man who thought he had not done amiss. But after he had been in prison some time, where he was treated without any rigour, and with humanity enough, and before and at his trial, which was about four months after, at the King's Bench bar, he behaved himself with great modesty and wonderful repentance; being, as he said, convinced in his conscience that he had done wickedly, and asked the pardon of the King and Duchess, and of all the Duke's servants, whom he acknowledged to have offended; and very earnestly besought the Judges that he might have his hand struck off, with which he had performed that impious act." ATTEMPT TO MURDER THE DUKE OF ORMOND, IN 1671. "BLOOD, a disbanded officer of the Protector's, bad been engaged in the conspiracy for raising an insurrection in Ireland; and on ac count of this crime he him elf had been attainted, and some of his accomplices capitally punished. The daring villain meditated revenge upon Ormond, the Lord Lieutenant.Having by artific. drawn off the Duke's footmen, he attacked his coach in the night time, as it drove along St. James's-street, in Lomdos; and he made himself master of his person. He might have finished the crime had he not meditated refinements in his vengeance: he was resolved to hang the Duke at Tyburn; and for that purpose bound him, and mounted him on horseback behind one of his companions. They were advanced a good way into the fields, when the Duke making efforts for his liberty, threw himself on the ground, and brought down with him the assassin to whom * At this time the whole of the ground be tween St. James's-street, and Tyburn consisted of open fields. It was not till above a century after that Hay-hill, and the site of Berkeley and Grosvenor-squares were built upon. he was fastened. They were struggling together in the mire, when Ormond's servants, whom the alarm had reached, came and saved him. Blood and his companions fired their pistols in a hurry at the Duke, rode off, and saved themselves by means of darkness.”— Hume, Vol. IX. p. 25. ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE MR. SECRETARY HARLEY, IN 1710. "GUISCARD, the French partisan, of whom mention has already been made, thought bimself very ill requited for his services, with a precarious pension of four hundred pounds, which he enjoyed from the Queen's bounty. He had been renounced by St. John, the former companion of his pleasures; be had in vain attempted to obtain an audience of the Queen, with a view to demand more considerable appointments. Harley was his enemy, and all access to her Majesty was denied. Enraged at these disappointments, he attempted to make his peace with the Court of France, and offered his services in a letter to Moreau, a banker in Paris. This packet, which he endeavoured to transmit by way of Portugal, was intercepted, and a warrant issued to apprehend him for high treason. When the Mes serger disarmed him in St. James's Park, he exhibited marks of guilty confusion and despair, and begged that they would kill him directly. Being conveyed to the Cockpit in sort of phrenzy, he perceived a peuknife lying upon a table, and he took it up without being perceived by the attendants. A Committee Guiscard brought before them to be examined. of Council was immediately summoned, and Finding that his correspondence with Moreau was discovered, he desired to speak in private with Secretary St. John, whom, in all proba bility, he had resolved to assassinate. His request being refused, he said, "That's hard; not one word!" St. John being out of his reach, he stepped up to Mr. Harley, and exclaiming, Have at thee then,' stabbed him in the breast with the penknife that he had con cealed. The instrument broke upon the bone without penetrating into the cavity, nevertheless he repeated the blow with such force, that the Chancellor of the Exchequer fell to the ground. Secretary St. John seeing him fall, cried out the villain has killed Mr. Harley," and drew his sword. Several other Members followed his example, and wounded|| Guiscard in several places-Yet he made a desperate defence, until he was overcome by messengers and servants, and conveyed from REVIEW OF THE DEFENCE OF BELLINGHAM. (SEE PAGE 276, AT THE END OF THIS NUMBER.) or imagined, had extinguished all perceptions of the duties which it owed to others, and had formed resolutions against the first law of nature. Again, his defence proceeds-"I had no resentment to Mr. Perceval-1 esteemed him, and lament his loss as much as any of his relatives." Such was the substance of Bellingham's address, when speaking of the man he assassinated. No passion, no personal resentment, no vindictive motive; never, certainly, was a murder more black-blooded, deliberate, more rationally wicked, if we may so expres it, than this. THE defence made by this extraordinary | which, in the sense of its own wrongs, real man is not the least extraordinary feature in his conduct; it serves to display a mind, not wanting in rational faculties, or apparently distempered, but wrong upon principle, and making deductions and conclusions, which were to serve as rules to justify his conduct, from premises which could not at all warrant or afford them, even in the most brute intellect, the colour of justification. Every mind must feel a common sentiment at the horrid and detestable reasoning which he em ployed to justify the crime. It was the reasoning of a mind which could discern all the tendencies of its acts, and estimate their several qualities, led astray by its passions, and kindled into enthusiasm by an acute sense of supposed injuries. The chain of propositions, arguments, and deductions which he made use of, were such, as with other pur poses, a Brutus, or an Ankerstrom, would have employed. He considers himself as a kind of citizen of nature, as the judge of his own cause, the assessor of his own damages, and the vindicator of his own wrong—“1 have sustained an injury from the Russian There was ability, composition, and occasionally even eloquence in his defence.-It was delivered in a manner energetic and even oratorical.-He says he has been unused to public speaking. But it did not appear to be the address of a man who had spoken for the first time-He did not address himself wholly to the Jury, but, occasionally, to the Court, the Bench, and the bye-standers.-Confident, as it would seem, in the innocence of his act, and assured of the prevailing weight of his jus Government; I have a right to redress-mytification, he scarcely seemed to doubt of his Qwn country will not attend to my complaint; they dismiss it, either as not understanding it, or as setting their faces against it, therefore Mr. Perceval must be assassinated"-Good heavens what logic is this? It is not, however, the reasoning, abominable and criminal as it is, of a man without intellect, but of a man without a heart, or at least bearing one acquittal. He appeared to think, that he had at length obtained the harvest of his hopes, and was already compensated in the fruit of his crime. It had made his injuries notorious, and the theme of public discussion. In his language there was no confusion or involu. tion of thought or sentiment; all was clear and unembarrassed, and his mind appeared affected on such occasions only where he alluded to his wife and children, and the death of Mr. Perceval, whom (as Brutus did towards Cæsar) he honoured, wept, and cherished in his death, though he thought him the necessary martyr of his cause. There was one argument of a singlar nature, which he put in his defence." Where," he demands triumphantly, is the malice prepense in this imputed murder, and which as my Lords will tell the Jury, is the constituent of guilt?—I had no malice premeditated against Mr. Perceval,-no resentment, no hatred. Can you therefore say, Gentlemen, that I murdered a man with malice aforethought." That a man who should argue thus subtlely (however mistaken his judgment), could for a moment be deemed iusane, is inconceiveable. Bel With respcet to the plea of insanity, lingham himself disclaimed it as an unworthy refuge which the indiscretion of his Counsel had taken, and which (expressing his gratitude to the Attorney-General) the ability of the Counsel for the prosecution had effectually disposed of. The whole volume of his life, as far as it was known, seemed consistent and coherent no one appeared, who made out even a specious case of insanity-all was regular aud natural, and, excepting that the crime carried its defence within itself, as not being imputable, from its monstrous ini quity to a sane and sound being, there was no accompanying evidence of insanity-with respect to this plea altogether, it is admirably explained in the speech of the Attorney-Ge. neral. Did he know if murder were an innocent or prohibited act? whether it was lawful or unlawful to take a fellow-creature's life; whether right was wrong, and wrong right? or, on ordinary occasions, did he mistake good for evil, and evil for good; thus confounding the very elements of moral things, and not knowing those differences of human actions which God and nature have engraven upon the tables of the heart? It was evident that Bellingham was not a creature of this kind. He had prosecuted redress, and revenge, as coupled with it in case of failure for four years. He had all along acted with design and deliberation. The singular circumstance of bespeaking the breast-pocket for the coat, wherein to lodge his pistols, unsuspiciously, bespeaks this too plainly-Never in a Court of Justice was so clear a case of guilt, and of obligation to answer it, from the total absence of all moral or natural excuse. What then shall be said of this man-was his act rational?-We answer, that, unfortunately, human nature itself is consistent with the greatest guilt, the most unacountable, unintelligible, and extravagant wickedness. Nothing can more effectually corrupt and deprave itself than human reason; it wants not the assistance of madness to contrive and execute the most abominable crimes. In a word, the experience of the world proves, that it is no evidence of an act being done by any irrational creature (and we sce the frequent cases of suicide) that it contradicts the light of nature, and the plainest dictates of reason; that it is without a motive, and without a possible benefit. The conviction of Bellingham was due to the justice of his country. BELLINGHAM'S LETTER TO HIS WIFE. On the Sunday night before his execution, Bellingham wrote a letter to his wife, of which the following is a literal copy: "MY BLESSED MARY,-It rejoices me beyond measure to hear you are likely to be well provided for. I am sure the public at large will participate in, and mitigate your sorrows. I assure you, my love, my sincerest endeavours have been directed to your welfare. As we shall not meet any more in this world, I sincerely hope we shall do so in the world to come. "My blessing to the boys, with kind remembrance to Miss Stevens, for whom I have the greatest regard in consequence of her uniform affection for them. With the purest of intentions, it has always been my misfortune to be thwarted, misrepresented, and ill-used in life; but, however, we feel a happy prospect of com It's not possible to be more calm or placid than I pensation, in a speedy translation to life eternal. feel, and nine hours more will waft me to those happy shores where bliss is without alloy. "Your's, ever affectionate, "JOHN BELLINGHAM." "Sunday Night, Eleven o'clock." "Dr. Ford will forward you my watch, prayerbook, with a guinea and a note-Once more, God be with you, my sweet Mary. The public sympathize much for me, but I have been called upon to play an anxious card in life." LETTERS ON MYTHOLOGY. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF C. A. DEMOUSTIER. LETTER XX. (Continued from Page 187.) LET me resume the narrative of the God of wine.-"Well, well," observed Venus, biting her lips with vexation, "and pray what did the amiable unkяown?" Bacchus resumed as follows :-" We sat upon the strand; her declined head leaned upon my breast, and her languishing eyes only raised themselves by in tervals to mine. After a long but sweet silence, I sighing said to her, 'your heart is indeed wounded, but can it not be cured? Try the effect of time; let me persuade you to it, and I will consent to let you die, if I fail of making you love life.O thou!' she replied, thou who takest so tender an interest in my fate, what wouldst thou say of a man saved by the woman who loved him from a frightful and inevitable death, then led by her into a desart island, seeing that she had sacrificed to him fame, fortune, and rank; what wouldst thou think of him were he to seize that moment in which she reposed by his side, and flying with that vessel which she had prepared for his safety, should abandon her to that desart and despair? The perfidious! I should cry, the unfortunate - Alas!' replied she, 'that perfidious is Theseus; that unfortunate is Ariadne. You see before you the daughter of the wise King Minos, who dictates laws to Crete. Androgens, my brother, having won the prize of wrestling against the people of Athens and Migara, the wretches assassinated him, to satisfy their revenge. At this news, Minos in despair rushes at the head of an army over the country that contains his son's assassins, and hastens to lay siege to Megara. You well know that in building the walls of that city, Apollo bad frequently rested his lyre upon them, and from this circumstance the stones had contracted such a spirit of harmony, that whenever they were touched they rendered a melodious sound. Scylla, daughter of Nisus, King of Megara, took pleasure to hear these divine accords, and even during the siege of the city, she frequently visited the walls. One day she perceived from the ramparts, the King No. XXXII. Vol.V.-N. S. Minos in the plain encircled by his warriors. My father is known to have a God's wisdom, he had then the shape and features of an immortal. At sight of him Scylla felt a passion take birth to which she afterwards sacrificed every sentiment of duty and of nature. The fate of the attacked city depended upon a single lock of hair of a purple colour which grew on the crown of Nisus's head; Scylla cut it off during his sleep, and triumphantly carried it to Minos as a testimony of her tenderness. But indignant at this treason, my father abandoned the daughter of Nisus to her shame and her remorse. After the fall of Megara, she was changed into a lark, and Nicus into a sparrow hawk; so that under a different form he pursues still the perfidious creature who betrayed him. Meanwhile, Athens fearing the fate of Megara, demanded peace: but it was on so cruel a condition, that the Gods seem this day to punish Ariadne for her father's severity. He decreed that for the course of nine successive years the Athenians should annually send to him seven youths and as many virgins to be devoured by the Minotaur. The labyrinths in which this creature dwelt, was a master-piece of the ingenious Dædalus; it was an immense edifice, containing an infinity of perplexing windings. Alas! nothing resembles it but the heart of the deceitful! At the bottom of this fatal retreat lived the Minotaur. That monster, half man and half bull, devoured the miserable persons whom Minos enclosed within his abode. Already had the Athenians for the third time sent us their sad tribute. Seated near the port, I watched in silence their vessel all covered with black, as it slowly approached the land. It cast anchor, and I beheld the crew disembark. Amongst the wretched victims, the young girls walked first, their cheeks pale, their eyes cast down. After them followed the captive youths, their hands loaded with chains, and their heads resting on their breasts. One alone dared to lift his eyes, and his noble and proud look seemed to defy for Hh bear his footsteps, I catch a glimpse of his figure: the next instant he flies, be extends his arms, he rushes into mine. Theseus with locks of tenderness, and surrounded by the victims whom he had delivered from the fury of the Minotaur, seemed to pay me the mingled homage of gratitude and love. The enor mous head of the monster lay extended at our feet, vomiting out floods of sable blood, which the companions of Theseus yet beheld with terror. Dissimulating my intentions, and feigning only the desire of removing their champion from the importunate acknowledgements of these liberated captives, I conducted him by secret ways to the sea-shore. A vessel was there waiting for us: we embarked, and the winds conducted us to this fatal isle. Its solitude, the streams with which it is watered, the verdure and the flowers which adorn it, all presented to us a retreat worthy of lovers. Upon the moss which tapestries this grotto, I slept with Theseus, In abandoning myself to sleep, I hoped that Love who closed my eyelids, would come the next morning with the God of day, and smile on my waking. Vain hope! I awoke; my eyes yet weighed down with poppies, languid'y turn to the side of my husband; my arms extend to him; my hand seeks him. Alas, he is not there! I call upon him; he answers not. Alarmed and trembling, I rush from the grotto, I run through the woods, I scale the rocks, I leap precipices, I demand my husband from every thing I see. Echo alone replies to my sorrows. At length overcome with grief and fatigue, I slowly drag myself towards the sea, repeating the name of Theseus ; my eyes wildly wander over the watery expanse, when all at once I perceive in the distance that vessel with which I had flown with him from death!-The rest you tune. Does not the spirit of a hero communicate itself to all who surround him? On beholding this intrepid youth I felt elevated above myself, and I resolved to succour him. I seized a moment in which I could speak to him unperceived; and with surprize, mingled with other sentiments, I recognised in this unfortunate, the young and illustrious Theseus, son of Egeus, King of Athens. With admiration I learned that regardless of his high birth, he had enrolled himself with the victims destined to the Minotaur; resolving either to kill the monster, or to perish with his fellow citizens. His courage, his youth, his already celebrated exploits, the illustrious blood of Pelops from whom he was descended by his mother's side, all heightened the interest which his figure inspired. I promised to save him even at the risk of my life; and he swore if he should conquer, to unite his destiny with mine. From that moment, regarding Theseus as my husband, I gave him arms to combat the monster, and to guide him through the intricacies of the labyrinth. I gave him the end of a thread which he unwound as he went on, from a clue which I held at the entrance. Thus provided, he entered the building at the head of his companions. These sad men seemed descending to their tomb; Theseus alone appeared marching to glory.Trembling at the gate of the labyrinth, I watched the distant sounds of his steps, and the movement of the thread which guided him. || At length I heard the roaring of the Minotaur : I shuddered! The thread, shaken in my hand, indicated to me all the motions of Theseus. I felt him fight, recoil, turd round, pursue. All at once the noise ceases, and the thread remains motionless. O fearful suspence! was Theseus the conqueror or the conquered? At length I believe that I feel an almost imper-knew.' ceptible movement: I think that I hear shouts at a distance: if it should be an illusion! I hope, I fear, tremble, shudder, palpitate: al-tears of course :" observed Venus.-"You have ternately my blood burns and freezes. I listen again I hear, yes I hear sounds; but are they the sounds of joy or of despair? Surely it is his voice! Ah! does not my heart de-legitimate one."—" Without doubt then, the ceive my ear? No! the voice approaches; it is the song of victory. The thread is rapidly shaken; I feel the return of my husband: I "At these words," continued Bacchus, "Ariadne wept afresh;"-" And you dried her said it, Goddess."-" But in order to cure the wound in her heart, did not yours, my Lord, propose a remedy?"-" Hymen offered a sick lady accepted the prescription.”—“ She did: I married Ariadne, and in marrying her presented her with that immortal crown which |