returned back again: others went into the aforesaid Redyates chamber, and tarried with him. The whole garret, rooms adjoining, door, and top of the stairs, were as full as they could hold. In the garret were set chairs and stools for the better sort: most of the women sate on the floor, but most of the men stood thronged together: in all, about 200 were there assembled. In the midst was a table and a chair for the preacher. When the preacher had discoursed about half an hour, on a sudden the floor whereon the preacher and the greatest part of his auditory were, fell down with such violence, as therewith the floor of the chamber under it, where Redyate and his company were, was broken down with it, so that both the floors, with the beams, girders, joyces, boards, and seelings, with all the people on them, fell down together upon the third floor, which was the floor of the French ambassador's withdrawing-chamber, supported with strong arches. Amongst those that fell, many escaped; for some of the timber rested with one end on the walls, and with the other on the third floor, that yeclded not; and so both such as abode on those pieces, and such as were directly under them, were thereby preserved. Others there were that were pulled out alive, but so bruiscd, or so spent for want of breath, that some lived not many hours, others died not many days after. The floor of the chamber immediately over this, where the corps lay, being fallen, there was no entrance into it, but through the ambassador's bed-chamber, the door whereof was closed up with the timber of the floors that fell down; and the walls of this room were of stone, only there was one window in it, with extraordinary strong cross bars of iron, so that though smiths and other workmen were immediately sent for, yet it was more than an hour before succour could be afforded to them that were fallen down. Passage at length being made, I had access into the room, (saith Dr Gouge, the relator of this story,) and viewing the bodies, observed some (yet but few) to be mortally wounded, or crushed by the timber: others to be apparently stifled, partly with their thick lying one upon another, and partly with the dust that came from the seeling which fell down. On the Lord's day, at night, when they fell; they were numbered ninety-one dead bodies: but many of them were secretly conveyed away in the night, there being a pair of water

staires, leading from the garden appertaining to the house, into the Thames. On the morrow, the coroner and his inquest coming to view the bodics, found remaining but sixty-three.

ROBESPIERRE.

All the blood shed during the reign of terror, has been usually attributed to Robespierre, though it is an absolute fact, that, for the last three weeks, which numbered more executions than all the time preceding it, Robespierre never once entered the committee, having quarrelled with the members; he refused to act with them, and to this cause, rather than any other, may be ascribed his being delivered over to popular vengeance.

A WHITE FEMALE, PART OF WHOSE SKIN RESEMBLES THAT OF A NEGRO. Hannah West was born of English parents, in a village in Sussex, in 1791, about three miles distant from the sea. Her parents had nothing peculiar. Her mother is still alive, and has black hair, hazel eyes, and a fair skin, without any mark. Hannah was her only child by her first husband; but her mother has had eleven children by a second marriage, all without any blackness of the skin. The young woman is rather above the middle size, of full habit, and has always enjoyed good health. Her hair is light-brown, and very soft; her eyes faint bluc; her nose prominent, and a little aquiline; her lips thin; the skin of her face, neck, and right hand, very fair. In every respect, indeed, she is very unlike a negro; it is, consequently, very singular, that the whole of her left shoulder, arm, fore-arm, and hand, should be of the genuine negro colour, except a small stripe of white skin, about two inches broad, which commences a little below the elbow, and runs up to the arm-pit, joining the white skin of the trunk of the body.

ANECDOTE OF INTOLERANCE.

When Trenchard's Independent Whig first made its appearance, a Mr. Worthington, of the Isle of Man, sent it as a present to the public library of the island. The bishop of Sodor and Man, hearing of this officious gift, commissioned an agent of his, one Stevenson, to take away the book. Mr. Worthington brought an action against Stevenson, and succeeded in getting him imprisoned; but the bishop refused to restore the confiscated book, and, through his friends at court, accomplished Stevenson's release.

BIBLIOTHEQUE

ORIGINAL LETTER of FENELON, ARCHBISHOP of CAMBRAY, to the MARQUIS de LOUVILLE.

W

HAT a number of precautions for an innocent secret! We are neither of us capable of intrigue, and would resort to these precautions from no worldly motive. Ours is a correspondence of friendship, consolation, and openness of heart. If our masters were to see it, they would discover only candour, truth, and zeal, towards them. I will tell you, without having been in any way apprised of what is passing at your court, that you cannot be too carcful not to exceed the boundaries of your functions, or too distrustful of mankind. My friendship authorises me to speak thus freely to you. Be patient. Do not place too much confidence in your first, or even in your second, view of things, but suspend your judgment, and get wisdom by degrees. Do no harm to any body, but trust very few. Do not treat any ridiculous thing with levity; and display no impatience at wayward accidents. Avoid placing your own prejudices in competition with those of others. Look at things abstractedly, in order to appreciate them in the aggregate; which is the only true and useful point of view in which they can be considered. Speak nothing but the truth; but suppress it whenever you find that it would be spoken uselessly, or from an excess of confidence. Avoid, as much as possible, creating jealousy or discontent; and yet, however modest you may be, you must not expect to conciliate jealous minds. The nation in which you live, is suspicious to excess. Their minds, from want of culture, cannot attain to solidity, and turn towards finesse entirely. Be careful of them, and think particularly of what you write. Write nothing that is not sure and solid. Give the doubtful as doubtful. Write with simplicity, and with a certain serious and modest exactitude, which is more honourable than the most elegant and graceful style. Adopt yourself to the master whom you serve. He is just, and has a heart sensible of merit. His mind is steady, and will ripen from day to day; but he is young. It is not possible for him, notwithstanding all his natural solidity, to be without certain

propensities of that age, and even some dissipation. We must wait, and reckon that every year will add to his learning and authority. Do not say too much to him at once: and give him only what he asks of you. When you imagine he is fatigued, stop short. Nothing is so dangerous as to administer more food than the mind can digest: the respect due to a master, and his good, which all should desire, require a delicacy, care, and a mild insinuation, which I pray God to confer upon you! If he appears not to want your advice, preserve a respectful silence, without diminishing any mark of zeal and affection. One should never be discouraged. Even though the vivacity of youth should induce him to transgress some boundary, his heart is good, his religion is sincere, his courage is great, and he will always love those who desire his welfare, without fatiguing him with indiscreet zeal. What I most fear for him, is the poison of flattery, which even the wisest kings are seldom guarded against. This snare is to be dreaded for all virtuous hearts. They desire the approbation of merit, and artful men are always eager to obtain favour by flattering praises. As soon as a man is invested with authority, he should distrust every commendation. Bad princes are the most flattered, because scoundrels, who know their vanity, attack them on their weak side: there is much more to fear and to hope from them than from good princes, because they lavish honours with one hand, and with the other carry violence to excess. Never were emperors more praised than Caligula, Nero, and Domitian. If virtuous kings would reflect on this truth, their example would render them cautious in receiving unmerited praises, they would always fear deception, and would take the wisest part,—that of rejecting them altogether. Truly good men admire but little, and praise even the best things with simplicity and moderation. That, however, is very unacceptable to princes who are accustomed to acclamations, applauses, and the incense of flattery. Wicked men praise the monarch only with a view of obtaining some benefit. Ambition profits by his vanity, and flatters him for its own purposes. The taylor calls Mr. Jourdain My lord, in order

to obtain a crown-piece. A great monarch ought to spurn the idea of being considered so weak and frivolous. No man should be bold enough to praise him to his face; for it is a want of respect and duty. You know that Sextus the Fifth would never hear himself praised.

A king has no other interest and honour than those of the nation which be governs. Men judge of a monarch by the government of his kingdom, as they form the opinion of a watchmaker by the excellence or worthlessness of the watches which he manufactures.

A kingdom is well governed, when the following objects are diligently culti vated. 1st. To increase the population; 2d. to compel all men to labour according to their means, in agriculture; 3d. to provide for the proper support of all the classes; 4th. to suffer no slug gards or vagabonds; 5th. to reward merit; 6th. to punish disorder; 7th. to keep every body, if men and individuals, however powerful they may be, in a state of subordination; 8th. to moderate the royal authority in its own person, so that the king may do nothing from pride, violence, caprice, or weakness, against the laws; 9th. to have no favourite or particular minister; to listen to different advisers, compare their counsels, and weigh them without prejudice; but never to follow blindly the advice of any individual: if the counsellor is good, this exclusive preference would spoil him; if he is bad, the king betrays himself in listening to him.

By this conduct, a king really performs the duties of a king; that is to say, he is the father and pastor of his people. He labours to render them just, wise, and happy. He should never think be does his duty except when he has the crook in his hand, and feeds his flock, sheltered from the attack of wolves. He should never think his nation well governed, but when all labour, are fed, and obey the laws. He should obey them himself, for he ought to set the example: he is only a common man like the rest, charged with their safety and happiness.

He must insist upon obedience to the laws, and not to himself. If he commands, it is not for himself, but for the good of those whom he governs. He must be the servant of the laws, and of God. He bears the sword for the punishment of the wicked. It is said that every body feared the king for the wis

dom that was in him (a Solomon.) Nothing makes a king feared so much, as to behold him steady, firm, witly a proper self-possession, not precipitate, hearing all men, and deciding only after a deliberate examination.

If a young prince is so fortunate as to have neither favourite nor mistress, and if he listens to a particular minister only, as before God he has reason to think his counsel better than that of the others, he will be feared, loved, and revered. He should be attentive to the advice of each, but should never decide according to the quality of the parties, or the imposing tone of their representations. He should accustom even the most distinguished persons to offer their ideas, and wait patiently for his determination. This ascendancy over those who ap proach him, is an important point; but he cannot possess it suddenly. A young king, though he may be equally powerful with those of a riper age, cannot have the same authority over the mind. For instance, his Catholic Majesty will be very fortunate, if, in forty years hence, he can make himself obeyed, as our master is obeyed in his kingdom. A young king, arriving in a country to which he is a stranger, and from a nation considered by the Spanish as enc mies, must conform to the people, yield to their customs, accommodate himself to their prejudices; and, above all, instruct himself in the laws, and maintain them religiously. As his application and experience increase, so also will his authority. He must be economical, and undertake nothing that is not absolutely necessary. Let him listen readily, but believe only from the most indubitable testimony. Let there be nothing gained by addressing him last or first. The first and the last speaker should be equal; the depth of their reasoning only should convince him. Let him study mankind, and examine the talents of every man; and let the good qualities of any individual never blind him to his defects: he should fear infatuation. Every man has his faults: when none are seen in a man, his character is fictitious, and he is not to be trusted. The great duty of a king is to discern the merits of men, to place them in proper situations, to rule and redress them. He governs sufficiently himself, when he impels his subalterns to govern justly.

If the king should take so much upon him, be so moderate, so studious, what ought not they to do who have the honour

to

to be near him! I pray to God every day for his Majesty and for you, sir, whom I honor and esteem from the bottom of my heart.

I had forgotten to observe, that no man is more thoroughly persuaded than myself, that his Catholic Majesty has a true spirit of valour, and noble senti, ments of honour in all things. I have observed instances of this, from his infancy. I confess that it is a great point in a king to be intrepid in war, but the courage of war is less requisite in so great a prince than the courage of business. When will he be called to combat? Perhaps never! On the contrary, he will be every day in action with others, and with himself, in the midst of his court. He requires an invincible courage to contend with an artful minis. ter, an indiscreet favourite, or with a woman who desires to become his mistress. He requires courage against flatteries, against pleasures, and against the amusements which would drive him from his duties. He must be courageous in labour, inconvenience, and bad success. He must have courage against importunity, to know how to refuse without violence or rudeness. Warlike courage, however brilliant, is very inferior to this courage of life and of every hour. It is this that imparts real authority, prepares great successes, surmounts the greatest obstacles, and acquires true glory. Francis the First was a hero in battle; but he was weakness itself in the midst of his favourites and mistresses. He sacrificed shamefully, in his court, all the glory he had gained at Marignan. Thus it was that every thing went wrong with him. Charles, surnamed the Wise, could not attend the war on account of his infirmities; but his good and strong mind regulated the war itself. He was supe. rior to his ministers and generals. The king, our master, has acquired more esteem by his firmness in regulating the finances, disciplining the troops, reforming abuses, and by the orders which he gave for the war, than by his presence in several perilous sieges. His patient courage at Namur did even more than the valour of his troops.

Say all this, sir, as you think proper. I offer it to you as I think it. You will know how to adapt my observations to the opportunity; and I doubt not that you have perfectly at heart the reputation and welfare of the monarch to whom you are attached. For my part, I desire ardently that he may be a great

king and a true saint,-the worthy descendant of St. Louis.

ORIGINAL LETTERS of HENRY IV.
of FRANCE.

To Mademoiselle D'Antraigues. April 21, 1600. MADEMOISELLE.-Love, honour, and the favours you have received from me, would have fixed the lightest mind in the world, if it had not been accompanied by ill-nature like yours. I shall not add more on the subject, though you know I can, and ought, to do it. I beg you to send me back the promise I gave you; and do not put me to the trouble of taking it by other means. Return me also the ring I presented you with the other day. Such are the subjects of this letter, to which I must have an answer to night.

To M. D'Antraigues.

HENRY.

April 21, 1600. MONSIEUR D'ANTRAIGUES.-I send you the bearer, to bring me back the promise I made to you in writing at Malesherbes: do not fail to return it. If you bring it me yourself, I will explain to you my reasons for it, which are private, and not of state, from which you will say that I am right; and you will discover that you have been deceived, and that my nature is rather too good than otherwise. Being assured that you will obey my command, I conclude in assuring you that I am your good master,

HENRY.

To Madame the Princess of Tuscany, Murg de Medicis, afterwards Queen.

May 24, 1600.

The virtues and perfections which shine resplendent in you, and make you universally admired, had long created a desire in me to honour and serve you according to your merit; but what Hallincourt has related to me has greatly increased it; and, being myself unable to represent to you my inviolable affection, I have chosen, in waiting for that consent, (which will be soon, if Heaven be propitious to my prayers,) my faithful servant Frontinac to do that office in my name, assured that he will acquit himself faithfully as one whom I have brought up, and who knows better than any other my intentions towards you. He will discover to you my heart, which you will find not less accompanied with a passionate desire to cherish and love you all my life as mistress of my affairs, but to leave hereafter to the pleasure of

your commands my own will and obedience, which I hope one day to testify to you, and confirm to you in person the pledge which he bears you of my faith. If you yield equal faith to him as to myself, and I pray you to permit him, after having saluted and kissed your hands on my behalf, to offer you the services of a prince whom Heaven has destined for you, and created for you alone. HENRY.

To the Queen of England. MADAM.-Amongst the many favours which I continually receive from your goodness, I account it a very great one that it has pleased you to afford me the means of informing you, by one of your faithful servants, of the state of my affairs, and of the honour and duty which, during all my life, I shall continue to render you. I most humbly thank you

A

for it, and for the assurance you afford me of continuing the happiness of your favour and your kind assistance, as M. Wilks has declared to me your inteution to do, which has been a great consolation to me amongst the many evil designs of our enemies, from whom, with your good aid, I hope that God will preserve me, and turn them to their own shame and confusion; and because the said Mr. Wilks will be able faithfully to represent to you all he knows, and what I have communicated to him, I rely on his sufficiency without sending you a longer letter, after having most humbly kissed your hands, and prayed God to have you, madam, in his holy keeping. Your most affectionate friend and servant, HENRY.

N original work has just appeared at Philadelphia, under the title of "Vindicia Hibernicæ, or Ireland Vindicated; an attempt to develop and expose a few of the multifarious errors and falsehoods respecting Ireland, in the. histories of May, Temple, Whitelock, Borlase, Rushworth, Clarendon, Cox, Carte, Leland, Warner, Macauley, Hume, and others: particularly in the legendary tales of the Conspiracy and pretended Massacre of 1641; by M. Carey."* We say original, because it is not a slavish compilation from English authors, and a wretched copy of English prejudices, like most American books.

The DEDICATION is unique: it is addressed "to those superior spirits, who scorn the yoke of fraud, imposture, bigotry, and delusion; who, at the sacred shrine of Truth, will offer up their prejudices, bow inveterate socver, when her bright torch illuminates their minds; who, possessing the inestimable blessings of thrice-holy and revered Liberty, acquired by an arduous struggle against a mere incipient despotism, will sympathize with those who contended ardently, although unsuccessfully, against as grievous an oppression as ever pressed to the earth a noble and generous nation, which embarked in the same glorious cause as Leonidas, Epaminondas, Brutus, the Prince of Orange, William Tell, Fayette, Hancock, Adams, Franklin, and Washington, this work is dedicated,

* Imported by Souter.

It is likewise dedicated to the immortal memory of the Desmonds, the O'Niels, the O'Donnels, the O'Moores, the Prestons, the Mountgarrets, the Castlehavens, the Fitzgeralds, the Sheareses, the Tones, the Emmetts, and the myriads of illustrious Irishmen, who sacrificed life or fortune, in the unsuccessful effort to emancipate a country endowed by Heaven with as many and as choice blessings as any part of the terraqueous globe; but for ages a hopeless and helpless victim to a form of government transcendantly pernicious."

"Philadelphia, March 6, 1819."

IRISH HISTORY.

The history of Ireland, as stated and proved in the body of this work, is almost one solid mass of falsehood and imposture, erected, particularly during the seventeenth century, on the basis of fraud and perjury; fraud and perjury so obvious, so stupid, and so flagitious, that, to the most superficial observer, it must be a subject of inexpressible astonishment how it ever gained currency.

Nevertheless, from such foul and polluted sources alone, the knowledge of Irish history is derived by ninc-tenths of those who have condescended to study it; and, though it may appear extravagant, it is nevertheless a serious truth, that a large portion even of those who pride themselves on their literary acquirements, are almost as ignorant of the affairs of Ireland, from the twelfth to the eighteenth century, as they are of those of the Arabians or Japanese. They

are,