cousin of his, who was, like himself, a well-digger, having gone down to speak with him, Dufavel inquired what progress the miners were making, and begged that he would not deceive him respecting his chances of escape. 'You observe,' said he,' that I am keeping up my spirits.' When told that it was hoped he would be set free on the following day, "That will make more than eight days,' replied he, that I shall have been kept here; but I can wait well enough till then.' He afterwards spoke of his wife, and charged his cousin to tell her from him to be of good cheer, and not to allow herself to lose heart. Care was taken to supply him daily with broth, wine, and other articles of nourishment, by means of a small bottle, which was lowered to him through the hole formerly mentioned as having been made by the pulling out of the rope. Forge-bellows were employed at intervals to supply him with air, through a tube inserted into the same passage. A small lamp had also been sent down to him, together with a long narrow bag to receive and bring to the surface the sand which was constantly accumulating about his feet and legs, and which must soon have caused his destruction, if he had not been thus enabled to remove it. That he might be furnished with the means of attracting the attention of those above whenever he wished to speak with them, a bell was suspended at the top of the well, which he could ring by pulling a small cord, the end of which was passed down to him for that purpose.

Day succeeded day, and still the expectations of the miners were deceived, and Dufavel remained in his subterranean abode. On Tuesday the 14th of September, they were only twelve inches from him, and yet it took them nearly two days longer before they were able to reach him, although their exertions were incessant, and directed with the utmost professional skill. Every minute the ground was giving way, and it sometimes took them many hours to repair the damage that a single moment had produced. Besides, they felt it necessary to proceed with the utmost caution when they approached Dufavel,

for there was great reason to fear, that, whenever a communication should be made between the bottom of the well and the gallery in which they were working, the mass of sand above his head would fall down, and perhaps suffocate him, even, as it were, before their eyes.

At length, about two o'clock in the morning of Friday the 16th of September, the miners succeeded in effecting a small opening into the well, just behind the shoulders of Dufavel, who shouted for joy at seeing them. They then began to saw through the planks on which he was leaning, in order to open a passage through which they might drag him. In this work Dufavel himself assisted them with his knife and after their united efforts had removed the obstacles from his way, he turned himself round, and, springing forward, threw his arms round the neck of the person nearest him, and was safely pulled into the hori zontal gallery in which the miners were. He was conveyed along to the commencement of the ascending passage, where he was enveloped in blankets to protect him from the cold, of which he was particularly sensitive, after remaining so long buried in the earth. He was then seated in an arm-chair, and drawn up to the surface of the ground amidst the acclamations of a large crowd of spectators. Several eminent physicians were in attendance, and after examining his condition, and pronouncing it to be highly satisfactory, they caused him to be placed in a litter, in which he was carried in procession, preceded by persons bearing torches, and followed by the multitude, to the house of a gentleman who resided in the vicinity. There he was put to bed, one of the medical men, M. Bienvenu, watching beside him while he slept. His slumbers were troubled, and the doctor, perceiving this, soon awaked him. Ah! you have done well in waking me,' cried Dufavel; but surely my head has been crushed and my body wounded'-and he felt himself with his hand, to ascertain whether this was not really the case. In his feverish sleep, he had dreamed that he was attacked by two furious bulls, which crushed him between them till his bones were cracking. His mind, however, soon

became tranquillised again, and a profuse perspiration taking place, he felt greatly relieved, and gave M. Bienvenu a detailed account of what had occurred to him during the period of his seclusion.

We shall not attempt to describe Dufavel's happy meeting with that wife whom he had once thought he was never to see again; nor shall we do more than allude to the tears of joy which he shed over his infant child, which did not at first recognise him, muffled up as he still was, to protect him from the cold, and his chin covered with a beard of more than a fortnight's growth.

In the afternoon he was so well that Dr Bienvenu consented to his being conveyed to his own home, and he was accordingly transported thither in a litter, attended, as before, by a great concourse of people.

Dufavel was now out of danger, but the excitement which his extraordinary fate had produced, was not yet suffered to die away. On the week following his deliverance, the transactions at Champvert were dramatised for representation on the Parisian stage, and attempts were even made to induce Dufavel himself to undertake his own part in the drama. This, however, he declined doing; but not to be behind his neighbours in turning his sufferings to account, he set about composing a narrative of his experiences in his subterranean prison, which he shortly after published, embellished with his portrait.

RACHAEL, LADY RUSSELL.

THIS illustrious woman was the second daughter of Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, by his first wife, Rachael de Ruvigny, a lady of an ancient and distinguished Protestant family in France. The subject of our memoir was born in the year 1636, and in her infancy had the misfortune to lose her mother; a loss,

however, which was in a great measure compensated by the care of an upright and excellent father, who, amid all the labours attendant on a high official situation at court, found time to instil the principles of religion and rectitude into the minds of his children. In Lady Rachael, they were implanted in a soil congenial with every noble sentiment, both of the heart and intellect.

The incidents in Lady Rachael's early life are few. In those days, alliances among the noble and wealthy were dictated by the monarch or the parents; and with the parties chiefly concerned, it was, as our heroine expressed herself at a subsequent period, 'acceptance rather than choosing on either side.' Lord Vaughan, son of the Earl of Carbery, was the person to whom the hand of Lady Rachael, at the age of seventeen, was given; and from all that is known of this union, it appears to have been attended with a moderate share of happiness while it lasted. One child, which died shortly after birth, was the only fruit of this marriage, which was dissolved by the decease of Lord Vaughan, little more than three years after its solemnisation.

It is probable that the meeting of the widowed Lady Vaughan with her second husband took place while she resided with her elder sister at Titchfield, a seat inherited from their father Lord Southampton, then recently deceased. Mr William Russell, as he was called during his elder brother's life, was second son of William Earl of Bedford; and having, like all younger brothers in Britain, no great fortune, either in reality or in expectancy, the worldly advantages in a connection with Lady Vaughan lay all on his side, since her father's death had made her a considerable heiress. She was, however, entirely her own mistress; and as soon as the mutual sentiments of Mr Russell and herself were discovered, they were united to each other. This marriage, which lasted through fourteen years of such happiness as rarely falls to the lot of human beings, took place in the end of the year 1672. Fortunately, a blow like the one which destroyed that happiness, is not less rare in its occurrence.

The man with whose fate Lady Rachael had now bound up her own, was one whose career, in its progress and end, constitutes an era in the history of his country. Heir, as he became, some time after his marriage, to one of the wealthiest and noblest families of Britain, William Lord Russell was foremost, to use the words of a descendant, in defending the rights of the people. Busily occupied in the affairs of public life, he was at the same time revered in his own family as the best of husbands and of fathers; he joined the truest sense of religion with the unqualified assertion of freedom; and after an honest perseverance in a good cause, at length attested on the scaffold his attachment to the ancient principles of the constitution of his country? Such was the being on whom the hand and heart of Lady Rachael were bestowed; and keeping this view of his character in mind, the reader will understand and appreciate the deep affection, and reverence almost, apparent in all the letters of the wife to her husband. With extracts from these we shall continue our narrative.

Absent frequently from his home upon public or parliamentary duties, even in the earliest years of his married life, Lord Russell gave frequent opportunity for the correspondence of his lady; and these letters being fortunately preserved, the world has received such an example of woman's love as no other record can shew. Three years after their union, Lady Russell thus writes: 'If I were more fortunate in my expression, I could do myself more right when I would own to my dearest husband, what real and perfect happiness I enjoy from that kindness he allows me every day to receive new marks of. . . . . But, my best life, you that know so well how to love and oblige, make my felicity entire by believing my heart possessed with all the gratitude, honour, and passionate affection to your person, any creature is capable of, or can be obliged to; and this granted, what have I to ask but a continuance (if God see fit) of these enjoyments? if not, a submission, without murmur, to his most wise dispensations and unerring