spected by servants, never to be familiar with them; and to be respected by your acquaintance, to respect yourself.

Te be esteemed a good neighbour, do little freindly offices with a good grace, and gratefully repay the smallest favour; to please in conversation, learn to hear; and know when to speak ; and, to correct your foibles, mark their effects in others.

Shew that you love your religion by making its precepts the rule of your conduct; but leave others to wrangle, and dispute, and fight for opinions.

Books are useful monitors, or dangerous guides: read to improve your mind, not to kill time.

Despise not the meanest of mankind; a wasp may sting a giant.

In company, learn to bear with some; know how to enjoy others. Neatness of dress is becoming, and cleanliness healthful; elegance is the mark of rank and property, or the insignia of folly. Dignity is acting with a due regard to one's own character, and that of others.

If you have made enemies, blame yourself; if you did not, pity them; in either case profit by them.

Envy is the restless desire of base minds for qualities and distinctions which they have not : a fever of the soul, which gives a disrelish to one's enjoyments, and induces a painful thirst after the enjoyments of others.

Emulation is the laudable struggle of noble minds to attain those qualities or accomplish ments which they esteem and admire in others.

Fame is an Utopian kingdom, to which a knave or an honest

man may succeed: Herod and Augustus are equally remembered.

To be connected with respectable families is what every generous mind would wish; but the want of such connexion is no more a reproach, than it is to be born with red hair or black.

The word Gentlemen is another word for a man of honour; one who considers himself as an accountable being, supports his character with dignity, and wisheth every man who depends upon him to live happily.

Gaming is an innocent amusement, but an infamous trade; to lose one's temper, with one's money, betrays a covetous mind.

Vain-glory is a distortion of mind which turns the eye of the soul always upon itself, but throws the tables upon which the words modesty, decency, and good sense are written, at too great à distance to be read.

Were all circumstances to be taken into the account, perhaps the number of one's inferiors would be greatly lessened to a haughty mind, most of mankind are inferiors; to a modest man, perhaps not one.

THE JOCKEY CLUB.

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Rules relative to posting the Horses in all cases that can happen. 1. A distanced horse in any one of the heats is not to start again. 2. A distanced horse, though he had won a first or second heat, is not to be rated in any place. 3. At two heats, the horses always rank as they come in the second heat.-4. When there happens a dead heat, a distanced horse may start again as

third heat, is rated best deserving, except as before, and unless there should be four heats.-7. No horse can start for a fourth heat that has not won a heat; if the fourth be a dead heat, all

Bonaparte, seeing an English book, with (to him) the attractive title of "Amusements in Retirement," at the house of Mr. Balcombe, asked one of the Miss Balcombes to lend it to him. Mr. Balcombe, knowing that it contained several passages which might irritate the already overcharged feelings of the Ex-Emperor, told him, that "it was really not worth his attention; or he would lend it him with pleasure." Bonaparte, however, replying, that in all matters he loved to judge for himself, took it with him to Longwood, When he saw Mr. Balcombe again, he exclaimed—“ I have managed to make out part of the book, you said was not worth reading the other day. I wish, by the flight of the eagle, (a favourite expression of his) that I could have the author of that book but once fairly in my power, I would inflict such a revenge upon him, as the world would never forget."-" And what sort of a revenge would that be?" enquired Miss Balcombe, who stood near. "Why, I should soon convince him,' returned the Emperor, "that he had formed a wrong and cruel estimate of myself; and by one of the best possible

arguments, viz. that of forgiving one insupportable mistake, in compliment to the many beautiful truths his book contains."

While Bonaparte was only a captain of artillery, he and Talma happened to dine one day at the same hotel, though not in the same party. The player on that occasion dined alone, while the soldier of fortune presided among a knot of brother officers, who had assembled on his invitation, and at his expence. While his friends were retiring, Bonaparte lingered behind, for the purpose of settling the bill, which having been charged more extravagantly than he expected, unluckily exceeded the means he could command at the moment. In this dilemma, he evinced his characteristic promptitude and decision of character. Unlike a Frenchman, he made neither speech nor apology, but produced his sword, saying to the waiter-" Retain this for the balance till to-morrow, when, upon the honour of a gentleman, I will redeem the pledge." The waiter, who, probably, could not distinguish between the "heaven directed face" of a man of honour, and the address of a swindler,. demurred about the bargain, when Talma

started up and indignantly told him, if he doubted the gentle man's word, to place the sum to his account. The waiter bowed assent, and retired. Bonaparte felt the obligation, although his manner of expressing his sense of it was laconic and even dry. But Talma, as may he conjectured, did not lose any thing by his bond of caution. On the contrary, his politeness gained him a powerful friend, who both during his consular and imperial reign, embraced every opportu nity that presented itself of praise ing his talents and promoting his interest.

When the brave Admiral, Sir George Rooke, was making his will, some friends who were present expressed their surprise that he had not more to leave. "Why," said the worthy veteran, “I do not leave much, but what I do leave was honestly acquired; it never cost a sailor a tear, or my country a farthing." A Gentleman, who, by his indiscriminate and injudicious flattery of the ladies, had received and felt the reprehension of a learned Theban, ventured to incur his severity again, by exclaiming (looking at the same time at the sage Mentor), after hearing a lady sing " Oh, Sir, if I dared to say what I feel.” To that, Sir, we have no objection, but only lament that you dare to say that which you do not feel."

The worthy prelate, Dr. Butler, late Bishop of Cloyne, being on a visit to an old colledge friend, who had fitted up his parsonage with great neatness, was complimenting him upon his improvements. "Why aye, my Lord," says the Doctor, "you have been

plaguing me about marriage for some years back, and now you see I have got a trap at last." "Why, yes, Doctor," replied the Bishop," the trap's very well, but I am afraid," looking him full in the face, which was none of the handsomest, "I am afraid the women won't like the bait."

Sir William Kerr, who went out Adjutant-General to India, lost his arm in consequence of a duel with Marcus Somerville. Sir William soon after assumed an artificial arm, and singular to say, this arm was carried away by a cannon ball, while he was gallantly fighting with the enemies of his country; on which Sir William remarked-" By Js, but I'll not be at the expence of finding any more to be popped off in this manner;" and has ever since worn a loose sleeve.

A wag, passing through a country town, a short time since, observed a fellow placed in the stocks. "My friend," said he, "I advise you by all means to sell out." "I should have no objection, your honour, he replied, dryly, but at present they seem much too low."

A certain writer says he does not see why good London porter should not be brewed in Dublin,

A modern traveller says, that the inhabitants of desert islands are generally found to be extremely jealous of their wives,

A merchant who lately advertised for a clerk who could bear confinement, has been answered by one who has lain seven years in goal.

Ăn advertisement in a Kentish paper begins thus—“ Five pounds reward for a runaway apprentice,

more than he is worth by half!!!

MURDER.On Sunday se'nnight, about half-past ten o'clock in the morning, a murder was perpetrated on the body of a fine female infant, named Sarah Mountford, aged eight months and a fortnight, by her mother. The father of the child is by trade a weaver. He had resided in the house where the act was com

mitted for 12 years. He had been married between 16 and 17 years, and has a family of ten children; the eldest is a girl about fifteen years old, and the youngest was the child at the breast, which always appeared to be its mother's favourite. About ten o'clock in the morning Mr. Mountford dressed himself, and went to Bailey's Chappel, in great Alie-street, Goodman's-fields; previous to going out, he desired his wife, who then had the baby at her breast, to dress the younger part of the family as soon as she could, and send them to the Sunday school, where they attended every Sabbath day. He then left her, apparently in good spirits, and, on going out at the door, she held the baby to him, and desired him to kiss little Sarah before he went, which he did. She then commenced putting her house in order, and washed and dressed the children, and dispatched them to school; the infant at her breast she also cleaned. As soon as she had got rid of the children, she went up stairs into the loom-room, where the business was carried on, taking with her the infant; and a few minutes after she came down stairs, and knocked violently at the parlour door, which was oc

cupied by Mrs. Ilott ; on the latter opening the door, she saw the mother standing in the passage, with her gown sleeves tucked up to her elbows, and her hands and arms smeared with blood. Mrs. Ilott, on seeing such a spectacle, cried-"Good God, Mrs Mountford, what's the matter?" To which she replied " Dont 'be frightened; I have cut little Sally's head off send for the police officers, and give me in custody, I want to be hanged." And so saying, she walked deliberately into the street, with hands and arms in the state described. The neighbours seeing her appearance, ran from their houses, and on learning what she had done, took her into custody, and delivered her into the hands of the officers. She seemed composed, and did not appear to fear for the crime. Search was then made for the child, when, on some of the neighbours ascending the stairs leading into the loom room, they were found streaming with blood, and on raising a trap door on the top, they were struck at the terrific spectacle that presented itself. The body of the little creature was found lying close to the edge af the staircase; the head was severed and lying about three feet distant, and swimming in blood; the body had on a clean coloured cotton frock, a white pinafore, and a pair of blue worsted socks were on the feet; a cap was on the head, fastened under the chin with a piece of tape; the razor, with which the deed was penetrated, was lying near the head. Mr. Dibdin, teacher at the Sun

day-School, proceeded to the chapel, in Great Alie-street, to communicate the melancholy tidings to the husband, who, on hearing the sad tale, went into a fit of frenzy, and ran about the streets. His wife was conveyed to Bethnal-green watch-house, where she was visited by several gentlemen of the parish, who put different questions to her relative to the horrid transaction, all of which she answered with the greatest composure. She said poor Sally was a beautiful little girl; and that she loved her better than any of her other children; she was not distressed, and that she lived very happy with her husband. She stated, that after she had washed and cleaned the baby, she took a razor from the cupboard, and sharpened it on the hone and strop; she then took the child in her arms into the loom room, up stairs, and laying it on her knee, she held it by the head with her left hand, and with her right cut its head off with the razor, and threw it away. Before she murdered the child, she tried to hang herself, but could not find a convenient place. Whilst she narrated the above she appeared quite unmoved, and repeatedly asked if it rained. Mr. Welsh and Mr. Bowen, Surgeons, arrived at the house, and gave it as their opinion that the head was severed from the body almost with one stroke.

ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH.-The following particulars are given relative to the death of this Prelate, which occurred on Monday, the 6th inst. :-It appears the Archbishop had been some time afflicted with an attack of the gout, together with a slight cold;

but his indisposition was not considered of a serious nature: indeed, so little apprehensions then existed of any dangerous consequences resulting from his con→ finement, that Mrs. Stuart and her daughter were preparing for an early visit to Ireland. On Monday morning his Lordship was attended by Sir Henry Halford, who wrote a prescription for a draught, which was immediately sent to the shop of Mr. Jones, an apothecary, in Mountstreet, in order that it might be prepared. His Lordship having expressed some impatience that the draught had not arrived, Mrs. Stuart enquired of the servants if it had come and being answered in the affirmative, she desired it might be brought to her immediately. The under butler went to the porter and demanded the draught. The man had just before received it, together with a two-ounce vial of laudanum for his own use; and which he was in the habit of taking occasionally, in small quantities, for a disease with which he was afflicted. Most unluckily, in the hurry of the moment, instead of giving the draught intended for the Archbishop, he accidentally substituted the bottle which contained the laudanum. The under butler instantly carried it to Mrs. Stuart, without examination, and that lady, not having a doubt that it was the medicine recommended by Sir Henry Halford, poured it into a glass and gave it to her husband. In a few minutes, however, the dreadful mistake was discovered, upon which Mrs. Stuart rushed from the presence of the Bishop into the street, with the vial in her hand, in a state of speechless