husband died long since of drink. The house to which I now belong was at that time only apparently sold in order to deprive you of all clue; the family gave it to the wild drunkard, who afterwards, when you had left the country, lived here with Lidia, who bore him the hector, and a daughter, she whom I became acquainted with in Tharaud, and who then passed for Emily's sister. Emily had been obliged to travel to Hamburg, because some distant relations laid claim to an inheritance which appertained to her. They asserted, in order to secure it for themselves, that she was no legitimate child, that she was not born in wedlock; and it was no easy matter for the uncle, although furnished with all the necessary documents, to obtain the victory for her. Jenny and her mother, the cruel father, the uncle, and Rolle, are all long since dead. But your son, and Emily your daughter, call to you. You are neither so ill nor so weak as to be unable to make the journey. The uncle here, who was then a young man, and distinctly recollects you, joins his entreaties to ours. When you have received my letter, and have recovered from the shock, we are sure you will have out the carriage, and proceed hither without a moment's delay. Emily affirms that she shall know the hour when her dear, her honoured father will arrive, and alight at the threshold of the well-known white house. You may be sure, dear friend, that she has read your letters to me. If you cannot come, dearest uncle, write to me, and we will fly to embrace you in your romantic cottage. But you will certainly travel here, again tread the theatre of your youth, visit the fountain, the beech tree, Geneva, and Rolle. Then we journey to Constance, to the uncle's estate, which Emily will inherit from him. Yes, dear father, we will pass many happy hours together. The evening of your existence shall clear up, and become as bright as the peaks of the lofty Alps when glowing with the rays of the departing sun. How have I deserved to be so happy? My life resembles a "Fairy-like and moonlight night, Holding the senses captive." SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. ROYAL AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY OF ENGLAND.-At a monthly council held at the society's house, Mr W. Draycote presented a specimen of English cotton, with the following account: The enclosed cotton was grown, not in the interior of Mexico, but in the county of Nottingham. The tree has long been very interesting to me, and this is not my first effort to bring it ་ into notice. I do so now in consequence of having read the report of the proceedings of the council of the 21st of June, in which it is stated that Mr Colman, the agricultural commissioner from the United States, exhibited some specimens of silk, silk-cotton, and cotton, this last the produce of a large tree. The specimen send is also the produce of a large tree, growing on the estate of the Earl Manvers, at Edwinstowe. With the cotton Í send some foot-stalks, and also some leaves. I am much inclined to think it a pure specimen of the one described by Mr Colman. I regret I did not attend to it sooner, as I then should have been enabled to procure some cotton in a better state, as well as finer foot-stalks, with the capsules more perfect. The seed is about twice the size of the germen in wheat; some will be found amongst the wool; I think they are emitted immediately on the opening of the capsules. It is desirable that an effort should be made to grow cotton in this country, if only for the purpose of making down pillows." The Marquis of Downshire presented a speci men of Irish flax of the growth of 1843, from a field, averaging 34 feet in height. VIRTUES OF TEA.-PARIS ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, July.-M. Peligot read a paper on the chemical combinations of tea. M. Peligot states that tea contains essential principles of nutrition, far exceeding in importance its stimulating properties, and shows that, as a stimulant, tea is a desirable article of use. The most remark. able products of tea are-1st, the tannin, or astringent property; 2nd, an essential oil to which it owes its aroma; and 3rd, a substance rich in azote and crystallizable, called theine, which is also met with in coffee, and is frequently called cafeine. Independently of these three substances, there are eleven others of less importance, which enter more or less into the composition of tea of all the kinds imported into Europe. What was most essential, as regards the chemical and hygienic character of the plant, was to ascertain the exact proportion of the azoted principles which it contains. M. Peligot began by determining the total amount of azote in tea, and finished by finding that it was from 20 to 30 per cent. greater than in any other kind of vegetable. M. Peligot states that by reason of this quantity of azote, and the existence of caseine in the tea-leaf, it is a true aliment. An Irish mile is 2,240 yards; a Scotch mile is 1,984 yards; an English. or statute. mile, 1,760 yards; German, 1,806; Turk. ish, 1,826. An acre is 4,840 square yards, or 69 yards 1 foot 8 inches each way. A square mile, 1,760 yards each way, contains 640 acres. Arms. Or., two bars, ar., a chief quarterly, of the last and gu.; on the first and fourth, two fleurs-de-lis, or.; on the second and third a lion of England. This chief was anciently gu., the alteration being an honorary augmentation, showing a descent from the blood royal of Edward IV. Crest. On a chapeau, gu., turned up, erm., a peacock in pride, ppr. Supporters. Two unicorns, ar., armed, ermined, tufted, and unguled, or. 66 THE NOBLE HOUSE OF MANNERS. THIS family is of great antiquity. Some of its members, we are told by Dugdale, were persons of note in the time of King Henry II, when Henry de Maners paid eighty marks for dowry of his father's lands in that county.' The first name, however, that appears in the pedigree, is that of Sir Robert de Manners, Knight, Lord of the Manor of Ethale (now Etall) in Northumberland. His son Sir Robert, in the 17th of Edward II, was returned into Chancery among the principal persons of the county of Northumberland certified to bear arms by descent from their ancestors. Sir Robert signalised himself by the defence of Norham Castle, of which he was governor in the first year of Edward III, against the Scots. Sixteen of them, according to Barnes, " had effected an entrance, when they got such a warm reception from Sir Robert, who had previously been apprised of their intention, that five or six were made prisoners, and the rest put to the sword. Their companions below, informed of the disaster, thought it expedient immediately to retreat." In the next year he obtained permission to strengthen his mansion with a wall of stone, and about the same period he was commissioned, with others, to treat with David Bruce for a peace. He died in 1355. Sir John, his son, Sir John, the grandson, and Sir Robert, the great-grandson, succeeded in due course. The son of the last, at the death of his mother, who was the daughter of Thomas Lord Ross, succeeded to the Barony of Ross, and the Baronies of Vaux, Triesbut, and Belvoir. He married Anne, daughter and heiress of Sir Thomas St Leger, Knight, by Anne Plantagenet, sister of Edward IV (who was divorced at her own suit from Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter), by whom he had five sons and six daughters. He died in 1513. His son, Thomas, thirteenth Lord Ross, was installed a Knight of the Garter, and created Earl of Rutland, June 18, 1585. He filled several offices of importance in the course of that reign. His son and grandson, Henry and Edward, were the second and third Earls. The latter left an only daughter, named Elizabeth. On his decease, in 1587, the Earldom of Rutland and the Barony of Ross separated, the latter descending to his lordship's daughter, and the former devolving upon his brother John, the fourth Earl. Roger and Francis, brothers, the sons of John, were the fifth and sixth Earls. The latter, though married twice, had no male issue, but left an only daughter, and at his death, in 1632, the old Barony of Ross devolved upon her; the Barony of Ross of Hamlake expired; and the other honours passed to his brother George, who dying without issue, was succeeded in 1641 by his cousin, John Manners. The son of this nobleman was the next wearer of the title. He was summoned to parliament April 29, 1679, as Baron Manners, of Hoddar, in Derby. On the 29th March, 1703, his lordship was created Marquis of Granby and Nottingham, and Duke of Rutland. On his death, January 11, 1711, he was succeeded by his eldest son, John, who dying February 22, 1721, was succeeded by his eldest son, of the same name. His grandson succeeded him in 1779. This nobleman was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in 1784, and died at the age of thirty-three, in October 24, 1787, when he was succeeded in the title by John Henry, the present duke. In politics this nobleman is a Tory, or Conservative. He is Lord Lieutenant and custos rotulorum of the county of Leicester, and Colonel of the Leicester militia; he is also Recorder of Cambridge, Grantham, and Scarborough, and a trustee of the British Museum. ADVENTURES OF CAPT. ABBOTT. AN amusing narrative has lately been published of a journey performed by a Captain Abbott, from Herat to Khiva, and thence to Moscow and St Petersburg. It is amusing from the picture the author gives of himself, his thoughts, and his sensations, which perhaps are such as few people, but for the publication of the book alluded to, would have expected to find known to a British officer. Captain Abbott, who evidently thinks his adventures and hair-breadth escapes entitle them to stand on the same shelf with those of Captain Robert Singleton, was sent by Major Todd, British Envoy at Herat, to Khiva, in 1839, to gain intelligence respecting the advance of a Russian army to that place. It was on the 24th of December that the gallant Captain set out on his journey. He begins forthwith to croak most musically, not only for himself but for others. He was alarmed for the situation in which he left Major Todd, and startled, not very unreasonably it must be confessed, at the amount of his own ignorance. "We separate," he says, "under circumstances sufficiently gloomy. I leave him in the very stronghold of robbers. I go myself, as agent of the British Government, to a Court, of the language and manners of which I am utterly ignorant, and to accomplish that of which the most sanguine have no hope. It is simply a matter of duty, and as such, entered upon cheerfully, and with full determination to carry my efforts to the uttermost." Very "cheerfully," certainly, he seems to have "entered upon his matter of duty!" What made it "a matter of duty" for a gentleman of his capacity to undertake the mission at all, does not very satisfactorily appear. That he had a fair claim to exemption from such a task, few of his readers will deny. He advances over barren lands and fertile fields, but we do not find anything seriously alarming. His journeying by night in the desert, though not exceedingly delightful, seems to have been endurable enough. "I rise," he says, "at midnight, and sit at a blazing fire, sipping tea without milk, until the camels are laden and have started. I then mount and follow them, and as camels walk something less than three miles an hour, soon overtake them. As the cold is intense, and our feet are by this time fully numbed, I alight and spread my carpet, and a large fire is soon made, around which we all sit half an hour. Wood is very abundant, and so dry that when the hoar frost or snow is shaken from it, it kindles instantly. It is likewise so deficient in solidity, that a stem, the thickness of a man's body, is torn up by the roots without difficulty. We now mount again, and proceed in silence, for the path admits not of two abreast, and the freezing of the It vapour of the breath, upon one's beard and mustaches, renders the motion of the jaw singularly unpleasant. Indeed, in raising the disagreeable manner with the crystals, and handkerchief to one's face, it is tangled in a the chin has become so brittle, that a very slight titillation is painful. Jupiter is now far above the horizon, and Venus is shining gloriously upon the desolate wild. And by degrees we perceive the day itself slightly winking in the east, and again we pull up, to light a fire, and to thaw our frozen extremities. Ere the sun breaks from the horizon we are once more mounted and away. The profusion of hoar frost upon the leafless junis a sight unwitnessed by me for seventeen gle sheds a glory over the desolate scene. years, and brings back many pleasant remembrances tinged with sadness. Now we are close upon the traces of the camels. The slave caravans keep them company. hardy Toorcumuns as they trudge along in their clouted laced boots, and legs wound around with woollen cloths, and their white sheepskin caps heavy with hoar frost, have no cause to envy us, whose knees are cramped freezing in the morning air. How frosty with the saddle, and whose feet are again their cheeks and sharp noses appear, peeping above the cataract of ice which clings to their scanty beards, and below the snowy mass which overhangs their brows. The captive ladies are wisely invisible. They have tucked themselves below the felts of their Kujawurs, and yet I fear, in spite of all their management, have but a chilly berth." The Riding in a cold country, with the means of kindling a fire at pleasure, and being always well attended, is not the most fearful travelling we ever read about. The Captain, however, being "a bold man," exposed himself to some danger of being laughed at, when he, humble as his position certainly was in a diplomatic point of view, claimed a grand reception, or at least, that "there should be sent to wait upon him the highest officer ever employed in such ceremonies, my government being the greatest and most powerful government in the world." The minister at Khiva seems to have measured the hero's dimensions pretty accurately, though he could not have been prepared for some of the bouncing taradiddles the intrepid Captain hazarded. On one occasion he appears to have had the impudence to declare that "England was larger than Russia,"-"because the sea exceeds the land in extent, and all the sea belongs to England!" After this, if the captain only writes as boldly as he reports himself to have spoken, we know not what may be expected from his pen. This hinted, it will not greatly surprise our readers to hear that the Captain Envoy made wonderful progress considering the astounding difficulties by which he was encompassed. His position was one of interest and deep anxiety: "I had been sent to execute," says he, "what might well appear an impossibility, and my fame, as well as life, was staked upon the venture. When I considered my imperfect knowledge of even the Persian tongue, my utter ignorance of that of the court and people, as well as of their manners and temper; my entire want of instruments suited to my need; that my sole instrument of intercourse with the natives was Ali Muhummud, a ransomed slave, new to my service, and of whose capacity or fidelity I knew nothing; when I considered the lightness of my purse; the impossibility of recruiting it at Khiva; the poverty of the presents to be offered the Khaun Huzurut, contrasted with the lavish gifts, which, it was well known, had been bestowed upon the government of Heraut; my want of suite to give dignity to my mission; that the Vuzeer Yar Muhummud Khan had agents at Khiva, secretly engaged in thwarting my endeavours, and throwing the most dangerous suspicions upon my motives; that the Persian ambassador had just preceded me, at the head of a hundred horse, and laden with handsome presents; that it must be his object to hinder the meditated alliance; that Dost Muhummud Khaun, the ExUmmeer of Cabul, had also agents at Khiva, who would naturally, if possible, poison the Khaun's mind against the English,-a nation whose very existence was a recent discovery at Khiva. When I considered that in demanding the confidence of the Khaun, I was empowered to promise him nothing, but rather to make excuses for non-compliance with every request he had made,-I confess the case appeared as desperate as possible." 66 Wastly moving," as Peter Pastoral or Lubin Log would say, no doubt. It is clear that Captain Abbott would have liked to have been in a more dazzling situation; it is equally clear that one less conspicuous would have been quite as appropriate to modest merit like his. Having such mighty difficulties to contend with, it will perhaps surprise our readers that he actually found his way to "the Supreme Lord." He did though, and thus he reports upon him: "Ullah Koolie Khaun, the present king of Khaurism, is about forty-five years of age, and so far as I can judge, rather under the middle height. His face is round. The features are high and regular; the expression is the most amiable possible; but there is an absence of vigour, for which, at the present crisis, nothing can atone, unless it be the powerful interposition of some foreign power. His eyes are long, and not well opened. His beard is decent; his family having some mixture of Sart blood. He is inclined to be stout. He was seated upon a carpet, and supported: by cushions. Before him a wood fire blazed up, sending its smoke and sparks through the sky-light of the tent. He shifted his posture from time to time. It was always ungraceful and unkingly. Sometimes crosslegged, sometimes kneeling, sometimes halfreclining. His dress was a green cloak, fringed and lined with dark sables, and showing at the waist a gold chain, the exact use of which I know not. On his head was the Oozbeg cylindric cap of black lambskin. He wore no ornament, and his sole insignium of office was a large dagger in a sheath of gold, which lay before him. No guards were visible about the tent, but the doors of the court were guarded. The black tent of felt which he occupied was of the usual dimensions, i.e. about twenty-four feet in diameter, and quite unadorned, its sole furniture being the carpet and cushions on which he reclined." What we are to understand by want of vigour on the part of the Khan being "atoned for" by the "interposition of some foreign power," and what is meant by decent beard," we are at a loss to guess. 66 a The poor Captain seems to have had an awful time of it. A house with a wall' about it was to his mind a prison, and the look or character of one Ahris Mhatoor renders him quite sublime: and touching with my finger his sabre, strike "I said, baring and offering him my throat, head, and intimated that we were safe, but I away, but save my servants. He shook his did not believe him. I returned and watched myself upon the first sword, that there might the rest of the night, determining to throw be no excuse for farther bloodshed. I mediits pang. I never could quite reconcile mytated deeply on death. I imagined to myself self to the shape in which it was ever threatening; namely, the crushing together of the brain beneath the hatchet of Ahris Mhatoor. I had self-control, indeed, sufficient not to flinch as he flourished it near me, but a vivid imagination left no rest for the nerves. The sabre stroke had but one terrible accompaniment. The head, when struck off, retains life until the blood has discharged itself from shut, the lips and muscles move. The system the vessels of the brain. The eyes open and is still complete, the nerves of the eyes, nose, mouth, ears, communicating direct with the brain," &c. This is so fine that nothing can surpass it, unless it be the funny fortitude of the gallant Captain, who, preparing to be assassinated in the night," adjusted his throat, so that the stroke of death might not awaken him." How he effected that clever adjustment we are not told. We have read of a criminal who doubted if an executioner could take his head off by one stroke of his sword. The blow was struck. "Aha!" exclaimed the condemned, "you have not done it." " Spit," said the executioner. The man did so, and off came his head, which had been severed though he knew nothing about it. Captain Abbott had no doubt heard of this admirable operator, and expected him to be in attendance. The Capain did not, at last, effect any great things by his negotiation. His journey is more interesting as a "a sentimental journey," than anything else. He should have taken for his motto the following: "Go, you may call it madness, folly, You shall not chase my grief away, Reviens. The Herald of Peace. No. 23. THIS publication has, as may be guessed from its title, Peace,-universal Peace, for its object. Such an object every kindlydisposed human being must wish to promote. It will gratify our readers to learn that a society formed for such a purpose is cheered in its progress with no common success, and in one instance at least has prevented a rupture between two nations. The following extract establishes this interesting fact: "A litigation between the United States and Mexico having given rise to evil dispositions in both countries against each other, and the spirit of party having been mixed up with it, it happened that the President of the United States made a communication to the Congress (which alone has the right to make war), in which he declared that all his efforts for the preservation of peace were ineffectual, and that it was the duty of the Congress to fix the epoch and the manner in which to obtain satisfaction from Mexico. The Committee of Foreign Affairs, according to parliamentary usage, took up the question, and prepared to make its report; when suddenly the Peace Society of New York, as a sentinel alive to whatever threatened the sacred object of its establishment, addressed a letter to the President of the Congress, to inform him that the Mexican Congress had issued a decree by which it proposed to refer the subject in dispute to the arbitration of a neutral and friendly power; and the Society besought the Congress of the United States to accede to this proposition. This was the first notice which the Congress and the President of the Committee of Foreign Affairs had of this act of the Mexican Government. From that moment a blow was struck at the hostile designs of the President of the United States; the public mind took hold of the question, and the Congress soon resounded with anathemas launched against an administration which would draw the country into a war against a weak and neighbouring nation, particularly when the legislative power of that nation had taken a step to settle the dispute which existed between the two Governments, without having recourse to arms. This Mexican decree had been issued eight months before. How did it happen that it had been un known to the Government of the United States ? Certain it is that, without the Peace Society, war would have broken out, and the maintenance of peace is due to that Society alone; for the majority of the Congress had agreed with the President. This is what has been stated by Mr Adams, ex-President of the United States, and now a member of Congress, who has expressed himself in the following manner, in a letter addressed to the Secretary of the New York Peace Society :-The petition came most opportunely, and gave me an opportunity of declaring to the Congress and the country my aversion to a war against Mexico, which I perceived, with grief, was proposed in the message of the President. That petition prevented the Committee from making a report in favour of the war, which it inevitably would have done, without the step you have just taken; your petition is the first intimation given to the Government of the United States of the fact that, eight months ago, the Mexican Congress had, by a decree, authorized an arbitration. It seems that neither the President nor the Secretary for Foreign Affairs had any knowledge of this decree. The Congress is, therefore, indebted to your Society, and the proposition has appeared so reasonable, that not a voice in the Congress was raised If the Peace Society never against it. renders any other services to its country,. this alone will entitle it to the thanks of the whole nation. The Peace Society of New York will always have my sincere and ardent desires for the triumph of its principles, and the success of its efforts. (Signed) JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.?" The Poems of Duke Charles of Orleans. By A. Champollion Figene. Paris. POEMS written by a Prince four hundred years ago, and by one of the illustrious persons whom the fate of war at Agincourt made the prisoner of England, cannot but command some attention. His life was a singular romance. His father, at the age of thirteen, caused him to become the husband of a Queen, the widow of our Richard the Second. The death of that father, who was assassinated by the Duke of Burgundy, soon followed, and led to scenes of stormy contention between the houses of Burgundy and Orleans. While he was still very young, his Queen-consort died, and he married the beautiful daughter of Count d'Armagnac. The battle of Agincourt separated him from her, to pass twenty-five years in captivity. She died shortly after that great event, it is supposed, from sorrow for the loss of her husband. It was in this state of things that he wrote his poems, Some of them are rich in pensive feeling. One modernized, which relates to the death of Bonne de Armagnac, his beautiful wife, just mentioned, we subjoin:→ ON THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE. |