thing about an inn seems calculated to make a dull day ten times duller. Old newspapers, smelling of beer and tobacco-smoke, and which I had already read half a dozen times. Good for nothing books, that were worse than rainy weather. I bored myself to death with an old volume of the Lady's Magazine. I read all the common-place names of ambitious travellers scrawled on the panes of glass; the eternal families of the Smiths and the Browns, and the Jacksons and the Johnsons, and all the other sons; and I decyphered several scraps of fatiguing innwindow poetry such as I had met with in all parts of the world.

The day continued lowering and gloomy; the slovenly ragged, spongy clouds drifted heavily along; there was no variety even in the rain; it was one dull, continued, monotonous patterpatter-patter, excepting that now and then I was enlivened by the idea of a brisk shower, from the rattling of drops upon a passing umbrella.

It was refreshing (if I may be allowed a hacknied phrase of the day) when, in the course of the morning, a horn blew, and a stage coach whirled through the street, with outside passengers stuck all over it, cowered under cotton umbrellas, and seethed together, reeking with the steams of wet box coats and upper benjamins.

The sound brought out from their lurking places a crew of vagabond boys, and vagabond dogs, and the carroty-headed hostler, and that non-descript animal ycleped boots, and all the other vagabond race that infest the pärlieus of an inn; but the

bustle was transient; the coach again whirled on its way; and boy and dog, and hostler and boots, all slunk back again to their holes; the street again became silent, and the rain continued to rain on. In fact, there was no hope of its clearing up; the barometer pointed to rainy weather; mine hostess's tortoiseshell cat sat by the fire washing her face, and rubbing her paws over her ear; and, on referring to the almanack, I found a direful prediction stretching the whole month rain-about-this-time!'

expect-much

I was dreadfully hipped. The hours seemed as if they would never creep by. The very ticking of the clock became irk

some

In an early number of " THE GLEANER," we presented our readers with an account of the peculiar circumstances attendant on the death of the celebrated lord Littleton-we offered it to them as we had received it, supposing it to be correct-but as the following has been put into our hands, as a literal copy of the original manuscript upon the subject, to be found at his lordship's late residence at Pit-place, Epsom, we offer that also to their notice, as more likely to be accurate in the surprising detail, than the former, viz.

LORD LITTLETON'S DREAM AND

DEATH.

(Vide Admiral Wolseley)

I was at Pit-place, Epsom, when lord Littleton died; lord Fortesque, lady Flood and the two miss Amphletts were also present.

Lord Littleton had not been long returned from Ireland, and frequently had been seized with suffocating fits: he was attacked several times by them in the course of the preceding month while he was at his house in Hillstreet, Berkeley-square. It happened that he dreamt three days before his death, that he saw a fluttering bird, and afterwards that a woman appeared to him in white apparel, and said to him, “prepare to die, you will not exist three days." His lordship was much alarmed, and called to his servant, from a closet adjoining, who found him much agitated, and in a profuse perspiration. This circumstance had a visible effect, all the next day, on his lordship's spirits. On the third day, while his lordship was at breakfast with the above mentioned personages, he said, "I have jockied the ghost, for this is the third day." The whole party presently set off to Pitplace, where they had not long arrived, before his lordship was visited by one of his accustomed fits after a short time he recovered. He dined at one o'clock that day, and went to bed at eleven, when his servant was about to give him rhubarb and mint water; but his lordship perceiving the servant stir the medicine with a toothpick, he called him a slovenly dog, and bade him go and fetch a spoon; but, on the man's return, he found his master in a fit; and the pillow being high, his chin bore hard upon his neck, when the servant, instead of relieving his lordship, at the instant, from his perilous situation, ran, in his fright, and called out for help;

but, on returning, found his lordship dead.

In Boswell's Life of Dr. Johnson, Vol. II. page 505, he says "it is the most extraordinary thing that has happened in my days: I heard it from lord Westcote, his uncle. I am glad to have evidence of the spiritual world, that I am willing to believe it." Dr. Adams, replied " You have enough good of evidence, which needs no support."

LORD LITTLETON'S VISION.

The remarkable circumstance attendant on the death of lord Littleton, having been so variously represented, a statement of the realities may afford the public some degree of satisfaction, and tend to prove that the intervention of that divine providence which governs the universe, is not inconsistent with reason nor truth. The authenticity of the narrative may be depended upon.

There was a gentleman of much respectability, who had a residence at Clent, near Hagley park, the seat of lord Littleton. The family consisted of himself, wife, son, and four daughters : the eldest married, the others living with their parents, at home. In June, 1778, the gentleman died; previous to which time, lord Littleton was in the habit of visiting the family-but now appeared desirous of greater intimacy; to accomplish which he repeated his visits in the autumn, and made the young ladies a present of some elegant paraphernalia on new-year's day, 1779, with a letter subjoined, written in the phraseology of scripture, of which the following is a copy, probably with a

view to ingratiate himself with the mother, who was a lady of exalted understanding, and great dignity of manners.

"1 Behold, I will speak to the daughters of Clent, in the language of wisdom and give them understanding to guide them in the paths of peace.

:

"2 Look not, Eliza, upon man, nor upon the sons of men, with an eye of concupiscence, saying, am I not sported? for, verily, the wicked will be aware of the intentions of thy heart.*

"3 Take heed of thy ways, lest thou be like the foolish woman; even like Mary, who will repent; even as a magdalen repented:

" 4 Did she not turn away from her mother; even the mother that brought her forth, to seek new inventions !

" 5 But, be thou steady, like the cedar of Mount Lebanon, that taketh its root in the earth, and lifteth its tall head to the skies.

"6 As for thee, O Christiana, remember by whom thou art called, and seek not thy cloak in the dark : †

"Trust not to thy cunning; for that which appears to thee wisdom, is but folly to the wise.

"8 Go to, thou art brown, but pleasant to look upon and thy ways are full of sweetness.

"9 Thine eye is like the eye of the basilisk; and it burneth like the red star in the tail of the sagittary.

"10 Thou dost excel all the

daughters of the west, in the works of the needle and thy voice is sweet to the ear.

:

"11 When thou singest, thy voice is like the voice of the nightingale when she mourneth for her mate by the river of Zilsa, in the shady groves of Jehosaphat.

"12 Thy mother putteth her trust in thee; be thou a comfort unto her when her heart is sad, that she may boast of thee, and say, "I am the mother of Christiana."

"13 As for thee, O Margaret! thou rose-bud of sweetness! peace be unto thee.

"14 Verily, thou art fresh as the dew that hangs upon the lily in the morning, which is devoured by the greedy sun :

"15 Thy cheek is soft, even as the down upon the plum, which the cursed wasp hath never invaded;

"16 Thy lips shed the perfumes of Arabia; and the fountain of health is in thy mouth.

"17 Thou art a daughter of the spring, for early dost thou put forth thy loveliness, and many are the days which thou shalt

see.

"18 But, mind, thou blossom of youth, that the fairest bud is the soonest blighted; and, behold, the rushing wind preys upon its sweets.

"19 Avoid thou the tempter in the wilderness; and cast the serpent under thy feet.

"20 For, although thy words are fierce and violent, thy heart

is soft as the plume on the breast of the swan.

"21 Grow up, yet, but a little, and the sons of men shall be captivated by thy comeliness; and the great men of the land shall fight for thy beauty!

"22 Now for thee, mother of Elizabeth, Christiana, and Margaret, to thee be all honour and praise.

"23 Thou dost hold up thy head in the temple, among the rulers of the people; and high is thy fame in the land: thy words are weighty and full of truth, like unto the proverbs of the son of Girach.

"24 Behold! thou art a woman of an exceeding spirit; and justice, with temperance, enlighten thy ways.

"25 Yet, thou art a lonely and a widow woman, and the wickedness of men is against thee.

"26 Trust not, therefore, to thyself alone; but take unto thee a helpmate, for so hath the Lord appointed;

"27 Thus shalt thou be defended from the perils and dangers of widowhood, and shall answer the purpose of thy creation.

"28 Trust not to the honesty of a friend; but believe in the counsel of him that hath understanding."

The poor mother, not apprehending any disagreeable consequences, read the letter to her daughters, who were then of tender age—the youngest fifteen, the next seventeen, and the other nineteen; which inadvertence (as the mother afterwards thought it) rested very much upon her mind. From repeated attentions on the part of his lordship, familiar intercourse ensued, which terminated in the three

young ladies' residence at Hagley park, quite contrary to the express command of their worthy mother, whose delicacy was shocked at her daughters being under the same roof with a man of lord Littleton's character. In September, his lordship's engagements requiring him to visit Ireland, Miss Christiana, at his instigation, accompanied him, together with a lady of Irish extraction. This indiscretion greatly augmented the mother's afflicted state. About a month after that period, the two sisters, who had remained at Hagley park, during the absence of the party, went to meet them at a place where they were expected to land, and all came up together to his lordship's town residence, in Hill-street, Berkeley-square, where they continued till November. On the twentysixth of that month, about two in the morning, lord Littleton was awakened by something like the fluttering of a bird, among the curtains of his bed, which suddenly escaped, and the figure of a woman, of majestic aspect, (the very image of the mother of the young ladies, as declared by his lordship), made her appearance, and told him to prepare for his departure to another world; for that, within three days, he should be with her in the state of the dead. This most extraordinary occurrence, making a deep impression on the mind of lord Littleton, he, early in the morning, communicated it to the ladies, who ridiculed, what appeared to them the effect of a heated imagination; and to divert his gloom, proposed a visit to Epsom, where his lordship had a seat that he won from lord

Foley. Here they spent the night, and the following day returned to Hill-street, where a party was invited to meet them. Not all the jocularity exerted on the occasion could dissipate the anxiety of his lordship, though he affected to treat the circumstance with contempt; and exclaimed, upon retiring, "If I live over the night, I shall jockey the ghost." The young ladies accompanied his lordship to his room, to notice some paintings, and presently retired; when, before they were undressed, a servant ran hastily to their door, demanding admittance, and declared that his lordship was dying. Before the ladies could reach his room his lordship was speechless, and on their entry expired in great agony. What

renders the circumstance still more remarkable is, that the next post brought the young ladies an account of their mother's death, who departed precisely at the time when lord Littleton saw the vision.

THE CRUEL STEP-MOTHER. An Historical Narrative. The character of Elfrida is very differently represented both by our poets and historians. Mason, in the dramatic poem that bears her name, represents her as a pattern of virtue and conjugal affection, while the author of the tragedy of Athelwold paints her as the reverse of both. Her real character will best appear from a faithful narration of the most striking particulars in her life.

Elfrida was the daughter and heir of Olgar, earl of Devon

shire; and though she had been educated in the country, and had never appeared at court, she had filled all England with the reputation of her beauty. King Edgar, who was indifferent to no accounts of this nature, found his curiosity excited by these frequent panegyrics; and reflecting on Elfrida's noble birth, he resolved, if he found her charms answerable to their fame, to obtain possession of her on honourable terms. He communicated his intentions to Athelwold, his favourite; but used the precaution, before he made any advances to her parents, to order that nobleman, on some pretence, to pay them a visit, and to bring him a certain account of the beauty of the daughter.

Athelwold, when introduced to the young lady, found general report to have fallen short of the truth; and being actuated by the most vehement love, he determined to sacrifice to this new passion his fidelity to his master, and the trust reposed in him. He returned to Edgar, and told him, that the riches alone, and high quality of Elfrida, had been the ground of the admiration paid her; and that her charms, far from being anywise extraordinary, would have been overlooked in a woman of inferior station. When he had, by this deceit, diverted the king from his purpose, he took occasion, one day, to observe, that though the fortune of the earl of Devonshire's daughter was no temptation for a monarch, it would be an immense sum to a needy subject; and therefore he humbly prayed leave to pay his addresses to Elfrida, as her wealth, he said,