nearly so, in all which I remarked at the mines. The lightest-coloured stones come out of the fire of a much more delicate and transparent white than before, and often surrounded by a cortex of red, but without any distinct line separating the colours. We were unfortunate in the time of visiting Neemoodra, for all the good stones had been removed, and only a few heaps of refuse left. I saw none imbedded in rock, as flints are in chalk; some nodules on being broken showed a mixture of quartz and agate, and others, in a crust of quartz minutely crystallized on the inner surface, contained a black oxide of iron of a powdery appearance, many pieces of which we found by itself in the gravel. Hematites, chiefly of the brown and green (with red spots) varieties, mocha stones, and jaspers of various colours, are very common here; indeed the last was found in almost every part of the province we visited on our route. Each stone is chipped in the mine to discover its quality, and those which are approved proved separated from the refuse, heaps of which lay at the mouth of every pit which had been worked. I shall now attempt to give an account of the mode in which the cornelians undergo the action of fire, as derived from the testimony of a respectable native attached to the adaulut at Baroach, who was formerly in the cornelian trade, and had himself superintended the process at Neemoodra; his account is corroborated by our personal observation, and by what we learned on the spot. The stones are brought to this village every evening, spread on the ground, exposed to the sun to prepare them for the further process, and turned every fifteenth day till the time of burning, which is only once a year; one month before the commencement of the monsoon. They are then put into round earthen pots about fourteen inches in diameter, the bottoms of which having been taken out, and the pots inverted (mouth downward,) the pieces taken from the bottoms are put inside, and placed over the mouths to prevent the stones falling out: in this state the pots are placed side by side in a trench of indefinite length, but of which the depth and breadth are about two feet, having a layer of five or six inches of dry goat's dung below, and the same above the pots. This is set on fire about 8 o'clock in the evening, allthe fuel is consumed before day-break, when the pots are removed from the trench to the open air for the stones to cool, which requires about three hours; after this they are taken out of the pots, piled into heaps, and again chipped for the same purpose as when taken from the mines, and are finally thrown into a pit, where they remain till called for (more to be out of the way of thieves, than as constituting any part of the operation.) From Neemoodra the cornélians are carried to Cambay by the merchants who come from thence, where they are cut and formed into the beautiful and much sought after ornaments peculiar to the place. telligible to the Clergy. ners do not forsake a pit on meeting with | which lasted half an hour, in the dialect of a spring, but merely change the direction; Lower Bretagne, which was equally uninthe water never rising to any great height.* The Rajpiplee country has long been celebrated among the natives who live in its neighbourhood, for the variety of its earths and mineral productions; and is certainly a rich field for the mineralogist and geologist. The native above mentioned informed me, that about twenty-five years ago slight shocks of earthquakes were felt in the province, but that they were far from being frequent occurrences.† ANECDOTES AND CHARACTERISTIC (Extracted from a Manuscript of the Pre- The President Bouhier once heard a con fidant of the Duke of Burgundy say, that what hindered that Prince from relieving Lille, when it was beseiged by Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough, though he might very well have done so, at the head of an excellent army, was the circumstance of the King having promised Madame de Maintenon publicly to avow his secret marriage with her when the siege of Lille should be raised; he therefore suffered it to be taken, rather than that the King should keep his word. A Lady of the court, of very mean extraction, whom her husband had married for her great wealth, one day let something fall from her hand. The Marchioness de Vrillière, afterwards Duchess of Mazarin, stooped to pick it up. The Lady, thanking her, hinted that the Marchioness had easily anticipated her, as she was shorter, and therefore nearer the ground. The Marchioness, provoked at this rude obser vation, retorted, "Oh! as for that, Madame, you are much nearer to the ground than I am, for you have but just raised yourself from it." While the Duke de Vendome commanded the French army in Spain, he received a letter from Louis XIV. full of the most flattering expressions. He shewed it to an officer, who thinking to pay his court to him, said, the King should have rewarded his services by something else than words and paper. But the Duke, with a generous pride, answered, "People like me are rewarded only by words and paper." The Abbé Laval, who, though not a man of learning, was, however, a man of understanding and merit, went to take possession of the Bishopric of Rochelle, to which he was appointed; but the clergy, who under the pretext of doing him honour, wished to play him a trick, welcomed him in a Greek speech, of which the Abbé did not understand a word. He listened with great com I ought to have mentioned that the mi-posure, and answered them in a speech, In the Castle of Grancey there is preserved, among the archives archives of Marshal Medavy, the original of the following note, in the handwriting of Henry IV. but without a date, “Ferragues, à cheval, l'ennemi approche, j'ai besoin de ton bras." [Ferragnes, to horse, the enemy approaches, I need thy arm.] Somebody mentioned, in the presence of William III. King of England, the bon mot of an Italian, who said, that what had most surprised him in France was, Louis XIV. having young ministers and an old mistress. It is a proof, replied William quickly, that he has need of neither. A man of sense once comparing Mallebranche and Fontenelle together, said that he had found the former much below, and the latter far above his writings. When La Fontaine went to Versailles to present his Fables to the King, it appeared after he had delivered a very good address, that he had forgotten the book. While the Prince of Callamare was am bassador from Philip V. King of Spain, to the Court of France, the British ambas sador, Lord Stair, one day asked whether the Kings of Spain were consecrated and anointed like the Kings of France. "Monsieur," replied the Prince, " nous ne les sacrons, ni les massacrons." [We neither swear allegiance to them, nor murde them.] Mailli, Archbishop of Rheims, was on of the prelates who shewed the most zea for the bull Unigenitus. He even publishe a pamphlet upon the subject, which wa burnt by order of the Parliament. In th course of the year, the Pope, as a rewar for his attachment to the Holy See, sen him the Cardinal's hat, upon which the fol lowing device was made: a lobster, witl the words, Ex igne rubesco. [I grow re from the fire.] "You take The Emperor Leopold was conversing with some Knights of Malta, who frequently mentioned their three vows. a fourth," said the Emperor, "namely, to observe none of the three." It is well known that the Dutch, particu larly the Dutch literati, are not famous fo politeness. A person told President Bou hier, that he had once gone with Coun Marsigli (an Austrian general, eminent fo his writings) to pay a visit to the celebrates Peter Burmann, Professor at Leyden, whe was much addicted to the pleasures of the table, and unhappily just chose the mo ment when he was at dinner: the Coun addressing him, said, "Ego sum come Marsiglius" [I am Count Marsigli]; tu which the Professor replied, “Et ego sun Petrus Burmannus, qui, eum prandeo, neminem video." [And I am Peter Burmann, who when eating his dinner sees nobody.] A Captain of infantry had, in a conversation with the great Condé, defended his opinion with too much heat, so that the Prince in anger struck him in the face with as gloves. The Nobleman, beside himseif at such a disgrace, resolved to hazard wery thing for the sake of his honour. He Imok advantage of a moment when the Prince was alone, and begged him to conder that he could not put up with the front he had received, that he well knew what he owed to the Prince, but that he auld not live dishonoured. "I underand you," said the Prince, " your way thinking pleases me." He appointed ma rendezvous. The nobleman punealy kept the appointment, and the Prince appeared, mounted on a fine horse. sen he got near the officer he nd said, "Sir, if you should be victor, and should then not think yourself safe, ere is a horse, with a hundred louisd'ors The saddle; this will insure your flight." Hereupon he took his ground; but the er presented his sword by the hilt, reg. "It is enough for me, my Lord, 90 great a Prince appears upon a sage from me; Heaven forbid that proceed further; my honour is reThe Prince joyfully embraced and assured him of his protection. hept his word: for the officer was from time prometed as rapidly as possible. M. Millin remarks, that this anecdote reated also of the Prince of Condé who ed lately. According to the account the President Bouhier, it belongs to the Pet Condé. weigh a matter so momentous, while M. Von Gentz next examines the discussing the expediency of following M. Von Gentz sets out on general community, without infringing dismounted, I believe it," says M. " but what does it signify? It rein the family.") I Pertsons on the Liberty of the Press in We have here a very able pamphlet, on ■ very important subject, by a very justly orated foreign writer. There are three claims presented for our most ature consideration. But, indeed, the wide "Liberty of the Press" alone, act Az a talisman, and irresistibly arrest Brattention of Britain whenever they pronounced by a voice worthy of wing listened to. Without sacrificing to the foolish hyperbole of faction, "Without it we die," there is not an Leglishman living who does not feel De value and acknowledge the power this engine, though divided into the great classes, of those who depree and would restrain, and those who *aid neither curb nor modify its To us, who from education, habit, prejudice, are involved in this vorex of conflicting opinion, it is gratifying ⚫ see what an enlightened foreigner ks of our system; to appeal, as it we, from our own partialities to a atral umpire; and to ascertain how the wise and instructed of other nations | vidual liberty?" arrangement by which the JUDGE merely superintends the process, and pronounces the final judgment, while the JURY decides on the main question of the guilt or innocence of the defendant; in which, though he sees much to approve, he is far from perceiving that degree of perfection ascribed to it on the continent by the advocates for the unrestrained liberty of the press in France and Germany. on indi- throws the In pursuing this investigation, he slightly contrasts the modes of censorship for the prevention, and penal infliction for the punishment of the offences of the press, and then enters more largely into the discussion of the latter topic, as exemplified by the institutions and practice of England. He examines our proceedings in the ordinary course of law, and by ex officio informations; and agrees with those who hold that the law of libel must of necessity be undefined, since no words could ever be devised to draw a clear line of demarcation between the innocent use and the guilty abuse of the press. That which is to be transgressed by words cannot be previously defined, much less exhibited in all its details by words and even the same words may, at different times and under different circumstances, be a libel or no libel. The consequence of this indefiniteness of the laws is a necessary extension of the judicial functions, and the Judge in cases of this kind is not merely an umpire between the law and the defendant, but, to a certain extent, a legislator. Hence has arisen much of that party spirit and unfortunate contention among us, which have assailed the judgment seat, biassed the minds of juries, and set individuals in the position not only of combatants with the law of the land, but with its administrators and the government. Well may the author ask Is it fit to involve a Court of Justice in the contests of parties? or to convert a Tri By the act of 1792 the legislature on responsibility the jury, and the author thinks this a choice of the lesser evil, since had it been devolved on the judicial power, it would in these stormy times have rendered it, in the highest degree, odious and suspected. We would ask if it has escaped this dangerous consequence, or whether we have not seen judges more bitterly and outrageously vilified than ever they were in times when they declared both the law and the intent, and left the jury nothing to do but to pronounce on the fact of publication? We now quote M. Von Gentz. But whatever may be thought as to this point, it is certain that the histo history of the England, during prosecutions for libel, in the last five-and-twenty years, presents no very favourable picture to those who enter upon a serious and strictly impartial investigation of the political and moral state of the nation. Nothing but the fatality of a blind caprice is to be seen in the fate of these prosecutions. While the boldest offenders are sometimes triumphantly aequitted, insignificant delinquents are often treated with the most merciless severity. For a trifling newspaper-paragraph, an anecdote inconsiderately adopted and as in dis considerately repeated, a displeasing judg tinction, &c. individuals are sometimes sentenced to pay heavy fines and to suffer imprisonment; whilst the most avowed libellist remains unnoticed, or is either merely proceeded against, pro forma, by the Attorney-General, and never brought into Court, or, perhaps, at length, trial, acquitted, amidst the loud rejoicings of his party. These are melancholy truths:-they tell us, on the one hand, of fitful and bunal, which the welfare of society and the respectability credit, into a theatre of decisions, bearing, though unintentionally, or merely in appearance, an arbitrary character? This is certainly no unimportant consideration. Our latest trials in libel cases afford a painful answer to this inquiry. The partial, furious, and instigated popular cry which resounded through the country, to the great distress of all who wish it well, demonstrated the inexpediency of such a condition. straining at swallowing camels; of an infirm and cowardly system which shrinks from its duty on view of the most trivial reverse; of a fatal apathy, while the causes are operating to poison the general mind (comprehending the materiel of Juries,) and a sort of weakly, desperate, and partial struggle, against the effects, when they have become too rooted to eradicate, and too strong to control. On the other hand, they speak to us of worthless individuals, raised to distinction because they boldly writer of the present day, observes, that, means but the constant endeavours to sap the moral foundations of society, and excite the multitude to revolution and bloodshed; of the basest of mankind triumphing over the prostrate institutions and altars of their country. Alluding to these, the writer exclaims, But what are all the dangers which threaten individuals, when compared with the mischievous influence which, under the present system, the licentiousness of the Press and the insufficiency of the remedies against it, must, to an incalculable extent, have upon the well-understood interests of society, the dignity of the state, the consideration of its servants, public order, union and tranquillity, and the morality and happiness of the people! How much more dreadfully applicable now, than when uttered, is the language of Burke, in 1796 : Public prosecutions are become "little better than schools for treason; of no use but to improve the dexterity " of criminals in the mystery of evasion: " or to shew with what complete impu compared with this one monstrous evil, all other causes of dissatisfaction are trifling, and can scarcely be taken into account."* The vilest libellers have, with unexam pled effrontery, erected their standards in opposition to the Government, not merely in the streets of London, but in every city great and small, in every town and village. СоBBETT, still more licentious than JUNIUS, without possessing a spark of his superior mind, publicly boasts of having sold, in the space of six months, one million copies of his unstamped twopenny invectives, and of having circulated them through the hands of two millions of readers! The public authorities are assailed by masses of calumny, falsehood and odium, which they are no longer capable of examining, far less of re the immediate operation of respect for government (which has long since been v lated by the licentiousness of the Pres but, the remedies supplied by the consti tion-by the reciprocal attitude of the rious classes of society, and political p ties-by the rights and privileges of pa cular orders-by the resistance which c stitutional forms have well secured and c firmed, of the great tranquil mass to popular excesses, distractions, and inno tions--by all the various counterpoises to destructive action of a licentious Press, t have hitherto maintained England in upright position. The antiquity of her stitutions, the character of the better p tion of the nation, and the influence of tinguished statesmen and philosophe have also, in no small degree, contributed her security. A state, less fully armed prepared, would long since have underge the most dreadful convulsions, in cou great and petty libellers, under a leg lation and judicial authority, which longer overawes them. pressing. Occasionally, and as it were, in the Government, and encouraging to those in one focus, has, Every "nity men may conspire against the "commonwealth; with what safety assassins may attempt its awful head. "thing is secure, except what the laws " have made sacred; every thing is tame"ness and languor, that is not fury and "faction. Whilst the distempers of a relaxed fibre prognosticate and prepare "all the morbid force of convulsion in the body of the state, the steadiness of "the physician is overpowered by the very aspect of the disease. The doctor " of the constitution,† pretending to un"der-rate what he is not able to contend "with, shrinks from his own operation. "He doubts and questions the salutary but critical terrors of the cautery and "the knife. He takes a poor credit even " " from his defeat; and covers impotence under the mask of lenity. He preaches "the moderation of the Laws, as in his " hands he sees them baffled and de" spised." This melancholy picture (too truly adds M. Von Gentz) has lost none of its truth: it may rather be said that its resemblance to the original becomes every year more and more striking. Those who have, of late, attentively observed the internal affairs of England, cannot mistake a single trait, and must be able to add many equally distressing. Even since the restoration of peace, this unnatural state of things, this disgraceful and daily contest, between boundless audacity on the one side, and powerless resistance on the other, has not merely been continued, but has even made a most alarming progress. A well informed Mussabat tacito medicina timore.-LUCRET. + Not the Secretary for the Home Depart ment. the long since decided victory of the Press of the Populace over the State, and exhibited that victory in features so gigantic, that, if the Ministry do not devise some new remedies, or call some new forms to their aid, perhaps the wisest determination would be to renounce, entirely, those criminal prosecutions, and to abandon the Press to its own delirium. Such is the picture drawn, by an enlightened pen, of the absolute anarchy of the English press in our day, occasionally interrupted, but not checked, by the feeble efforts of an arbitrary discretion, accidentally roused. Of an anarchy converting into poison the noblest nutriment of the human mind, and delivering up the people to the influence of the most worthless seducers; relaxing the ties which bind the individual citizen to the State, and threatening the entire system of social economy with the most violent and fatal disorganization. It is not true (says M. Von. Gentz in answer to those who talk lightly of the dangers to be apprehended from the incessant undermining of good principles by the press)-it is not true, that the abuse of the Press, in England, is to be regarded as a mere harmless sport or a pardonable indecorum. It is, on the contrary, a severe, enormous, and overwhelming malady, only capable of being withstood by a body, which, if not perfectly sound in all its vital parts, is still strong, and vigorous. It is not • Quarterly Review, January 1817. But why (he continues) should a quest of this kind be driven to its utmost ext mity? Why calculate how large a dose corrupting and destroying inatter, a st may receive without accomplishing its struction? If the licentiousness of the Pr do not actually threaten the existence England, is it no evil to poison all t sources both public and private of her mo life? The disorganizing principles whi the periodical pamphleteers, particular those of the common order, instil into lower classes of the people, are truly alun ing in their nature; but still more alar ing, when it is considered that the m who promulgate them, exercise an bounded control over the opinion of lions of readers, who cannot procure 1 antidote of better writings. Those per dious demagogues incessantly address people, in declamations on violated right deluded hopes and real or imaginary suffe ings. Every burthen which may fall hea on individuals, every accidental difficul every inconvenience, produced by change of times and circumstances, is presented as the immediate effect of the capability, selfishness and culpable blu dering of the administration. The m criminal and absurd designs are imputed the Ministers; and lest the oppress should delay to seek redress, at their of hands, the future is painted to them blacker colours than the present; thus, thick cloud of dejection, bitterness a discontent, is spread over the nation; men minds are filled with hostile aversions gloomy anxieties; and the poor man is last deprived of comfort, cheerfulness, a all enjoyment of life. Every feeling of tisfaction and security, and of confiden in the government, the tranquil and willi obedience of the People, their steady resi nation under unavoidable sacrifices, anda the fruits and ornaments of a good const tution, are falsified, perverted, and disco raged by the harpy hands of these iniquitous aribh'ers. That neither the intellectual nor mural cultivation of the people can prosper, a such a state of political corruption, is lf-erident. Is this then a trifling evil? This foreign Physician has but too curately defined our malady; but the remedy at which he hints, viz. the extension of the power of Ministers, and We shall add no more-if the existing | and vanity in recording the ingenuity of state of the press be producing evil, it is his nefarious conceptions, the dexterity the bounden duty of our rulers to put in of their execution, and the adroitness movement another principle of the same with which he sometimes escaped de genus likely to be productive of good. tection; but he is not a drunkard, a The people will then have at least a common sensualist addicted to the vilest choice;-at present they have none, but gratifications of appetite, nor a ferocious are left to the mercy of their deluding ruffian who would endeavour to cover enemies; and this wholesome course crime by assassination. In this manner sequent limit of individual liberty, would soon, if not immediately, com- he would wish to be viewed as little would only hasten the crisis which all se and respectable men dread. If the ingrene has not already been suffered pread itself too mortally for cure; if De supineness of those to whom the adnistration of the laws is entrusted, ave not encouraged the growth of the d till it is indeed too late to oppose the an to which it so rapidly hurries us on; wisdom in our counsels, and vigour in executive, and sense and virtue ring the mass of our population, be Ayet entirely extinct, under the blessiz of Heaven, a victorious stand may -The made against the rapid approaches of Kuhery and devastation. There is no legitimate way to combat press but by the press, nor to punish excesses but by the law of the land. and raise a Had Ministers adopted the former course senson, they would have avoided much of the trouble they now experience, and Lozland much of the demoralization which unhappily afflicts it. But while The venom was concocting, they sat with their hands across, and let unaided inviduals fight their and the nation's battle, and it is only when, Laocoon like, they feel the serpents gird them round in constraining folds, and fix their fangs in their throats, and destroy the dearest bjects of their care, that they writhe complaining voice against that which timely precaution would have sakened or prevented. Indeed the Government of England has seemed to the only body insensible to the power of the press to work good or evil, and, sequently, to have left it to do the lat"r, without one prudent effort to coun**Fact its operation. The result is the Universal prevalence of immoral and setious publications, and the almost total extinction of those devoted to the 4se of social order, contentment, and religion. No wonder that under such Frumstances the popular mass becomes rrupted, and that juries, taken from hat mass, pronounce the verdicts of patisans. There is nothing to impede te contamination; and the storm, which *cked spirits have been permitted to rate, is but increased in horror by the repotent wailings of those who have looked on with unconcern, while its municate a force to the law which would render it equal to the suppression of all wrongs, inconsistent with the general weal and injurious to the interests of society. Memoirs of the first Thirty-two years of the Life of James Hardy Vaux, a Swindler and Pickpocket; now transported, for the second time and for life, to New South Wales. Written by Himself. London 1819. 12mo. 2 vols. Fas est ab hoste doceri, says the adage; and there are few honest persons who may not learn something useful to be known from this statement of the tricks, impositions, and frauds of a clever and intelligent swindler. The author may be recollected by many of our readers, as his Scapin exploits and trials furnished plentiful matter for the Police and Old-Bailey reports of the day. Indeed he appears to have been a very Mасheath in his peculiar line; ingenious, artful, unprincipled, enterprising, and successful. Having also received a tolerable education, and being of an acute and observant mind, he was competent to the novel task of writing these Memoirs; and we may certainly say, that the candid and open confessions of a person who, to use his own phrase, lived so long upon the cross (i.e. by thieving, in opposition to living on the square,) are not only a desideratum to the public generally, but a literary curiosity deserving of our attention. Mr. Vaux seems to have had natural abilities which, under a better system of education, would have ensured his prosperity; but, destitute of good principles from his very infancy, the perversion of his talents only rendered him a more conspicuous object of infamy than his lower associates. We do not observe a single sound moral sentiment in the whole development of the author's feelings; but, on the other hand, there is a sort of sense of propriety which has purified his book from every indecency, we might say indelicacy, as it redeemed his career from the grossest species of profligacy and debauchery. He draws himself a liar, a swindler, a pickpocket, baneful ingredients were accumulating. a thief, and even betrays a little pride " less than an archangel fallen;" but in truth his pretensions to merit as a rogue are only sustained by a comparison with the more ignorant and vulgar rascals of "the family,"* and are not supported by intrinsic superiority of intellect, since any man utterly destitute of honesty, may find it possible to deceive tradesmen, cut pocket-books or snuff-boxes from the persons of others in crowds, levy contributions on humanity by falsehoods, and do all the drudgery of evil, nishes them. till winking justice overtakes and pu But it would be tedious to expatiate on the multitude of reflections which this narrative of a guilty and chequered life suggests. They will rise in the mind of every reader in as various forms as there are numerous incidents to call them forth. One only we shall offer. The first marked inclination of young Vaux was to draw race-horses, and from indulgence in this apparently innocent childish amusement, may be traced the wickedness and misery of his future destiny. From admiring their pictures, he got to admire the living animals, and from that point to an anxiety about their feats, Newmarket, and gambling. What a lesson is this to the instructors of youth! 'Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined; but in verity it seems impossible to guard against the growth of vice, when its first seeds are sown under so unsuspicious a form. Another turn of the scale might have made the cheat and impostor Vaux a second Snyders, famous as an artist, instead of despised as a felon ! From the signature of "B. F-d." (which we take to be that of Barron Field, who holds a high judicial station in New South Wales) to an advertisement prefixed to the work, we have no doubt that it is a genuine performance, and shall now rapidly sketch the biography of the writer, and offer such extracts as appear to us to be most curious. James Hardy Vaux was born in 1782. He was of a good family by the mother's * The cant phrase for all those who live by fraud and robbery in London. side, and his father the steward of a gentleman of fortune, who withdrew from service to speculate with his savings in trade. The maternal grandfather of our subject, a Mr. Lowe, Lowe, had been a respectable solicitor in London, but retired to S-shire, whither he carried his favourite grandson, and gave him a very decent grammar-school education. After several plans for his future course of life were discussed, he was sent to the mercantile house of Messrs. Swan and Parker in Liverpool, who, to a large export, added a very extensive retail trade. Here he soon began to keep irregular hours and bad company; and, being seduced to the Cockpit with his employers' money in his pocket, betted and lost what he could only pay by fraud and stealing. To these expedients he consequently had recourse, and, like all beginners in villany, resolved to turn honest as soon as fortune enabled him to relieve his embarrassments and surmount his difficulties. But before he could carry his determination into execution, if indeed his profligacy would ever have led to that event without the shame of exposure, his embezzlements were discovered, and he was sent back to his friends in disgrace. His next appearance is in London, where, on his grandfather's recommendation, he is received into the office of a respectable Attorney, Mr. Presland, his kinsman. Ever restless and unsteady, him he quits for a wholesale Stationers, Messrs. Key, Abchurch Lane; and while in their service begins his old trade anew, by obtaining clothes, &c. on false pretences, bilking his lodgings, and committing other depredations, till obliged to leave his place, and again seek bread as a lawyer's clerk, at a guinea per week. By resorting nightly to the Blue Lion in Gray's Inn Lane, he forms intimacies with kindred spirits, and soon becomes an adept in the worst ways of the metropolis, though still but a boy in years. With one of his acquaintances of the Blue Lion, the discharged Steward of a naval Captain, he agrees to take a trip to Portsmouth, but they get no further than Kingston, where they raise money for their extravagancies, by applying to the charitable as forlorn and distressed travellers; forging the names of contribufully practising all the deceits of this spetors to their sham petition; and successcies of imposition, called in their flash lan guage, in Mr. G's service, while at coffee, and hurting him by the fall, a complaint is made, and Mr. Vaux once more thrown upon the wide world. He returns to London, the theatre for persons of his stamp, and accidentally meeting at the Saracen's Head, Snow Hill, with Mr. Kennedy, Surgeon of the Astræa, so far ingratiates himself with that gentleinan as to obtain (due inquiries having been made among his family and friends) a midshipman's birth in that frigate, under the command of Captain Dacres. His early disposition had pointed to a sea-faring life, but a few months of Winter cruising in the Channel and North seas sickened him of the service. greater ease, he relinquished his midshipman's appointment to become the Captain's clerk, his predecessor obtaining a Purser's warrant; his weekly accounts *" were formally cut off by his messmates, and he behaved regularly till, on coming into Greenhithe, he again unfortunately visited London on three days leave of absence, and the contamination of his old haunts proved too strong for his feeble integrity. He forms a connection with a cyprian, Miss K-e, deserts from his ship, and with no other means of subsistence than a few pounds in his pocket, enters For full swing into this licentious amour, and return to S-shire was the furthest from his intentions. He stayed in Town, and, by a piece of complicated forgery and invention, got as a shopman into the masquerade and habit warehouse of Giffard and Co. Tavistock Street. His sole object in this, was to purloin and pilfer all he could, and abscond with the booty. In ten weeks he had by these means realized 60%. and a good stock of clothes. He then played his last ruse; got what money and goods he could obtain on the credit of his employers, stole and pawned, or sold to Jews at five hundred per cent. loss, what he could lay his hands on, and, finally, removed to a distant quarter of the city. Imprudently venturing to the pawnbroker's, Mr. Lane of Drury Lane, where he had pledged some of the stolen property, he was recognised and arrested. Committed to Cold Bath Fields, and thence to Newgate for trial, he had now the first taste of the bitter fruit of crime, beyond that disgrace, of which, in former instances, he seemed in sensible. But as we have now come to tha period where we intend making a fev extracts, and our present bounds ar exhausted, we shall defer the proceed ings of the court, and our own,, till ow next publication. ANTAR, a Bedoueen Romance, &c. (Continued.). A grand uproar arose in consequenc of Antar's smashing intimation to hi rival Amarah; but the hostile approach of the tribe f Tey put a stop to interna contention, and, while our hero, eve obedient to his father and master's com mand, submitted to the ignominiou punishment of again tending the berds the warriors, in number 4000, wen forth to repel the Teyans. At thi period, however, he was rejoiced by message from Ibla, "that if her father even made the grave her resting place none but him did she desire, none but hin would she choose." A body of 12,000 Teyans having passe the Absians on the road, arrived and spoiled their tents and flocks, and threat ened to capture their women and familes of 300 men. In thei who had only aguard The letter racket." At many after This expert scoundrel was yet only 17 periods Mr. Vaux pursued this system with * The white patches on the collar of a Mid- distress, Shedad, and Malik the father o Ibla, ran for succour to Antar; but he ridiculed the idea of noble warriors seek ing the protection of a slave who "con ducted cattle and camels to the pasture and one employed in milking, and pick ing up wood, and tending cattle and sheep," and would not stir to their assist ance till they swore to acknowledge him, and allow him his rank as a son and husband of Ibla. During this treaty, the wife and daughter of the King, the wives of Shedad and Malik, |