IMPRISONMENT FOR DEBT. Two volumes of a work entitled "Scenes and Stories by a Clergyman in Debt," have lately made their appearance. They are replete with curious matter, some of which has the air of romance; but the following extract will shew what is often passing in this great metropolis, unknown to nine-tenths of its busy inhabitants; so true it is that vice of all complexions is always most active, though seldom conspicuous in popular cities. "Supposing a private individual anxious to discount a bill, which, not being mercantile, he could not get cashed by means of a city broker. - He is recommended to a person residing in some city square-a Methodist parson, perhaps (we could adduce a notorious case in point) who will do it for him; or he is, as is still oftener the case, referred to the parson's agent, who is allowed so much by his employer for getting the bill, and so much by the gentleman for cashing it. The money is given-say 351. for a 401, bill-with the understanding that if the gentleman should be 'short' when it becomes due, it can be renewed. This intimation is invariably given when the party is known to have money, in order to excite a carelessness as to the taking up of the bill, and, if possible, to prevent its being paid to the moment. Well, the gentleman departs with his money, and the agent flies off to the parson with the bill. The parson at once hands it over to Jos. Russel. The well-trained and welltraining Jos., who may be in prison or not, as he finds it answer his purpose, has always a gang of desperate rogues, some in, and some out of gaol, but all connected with the debtors' prisons, in his pay. His first step, then, on receiving the bill, is to endorse it himself; his next, to repair to these precious confederates, to whom he pays one or two shillings each to write their names on the back of the bill, upon the understanding that, if at large, they are to be arrested; if in gaol, to be served with common writs. In this manner, Jos. procures sixteen or twenty endorsements to the bill; the more the merrier for Jos. "The bill runs its time, and becomes due. The gentleman, careless, as was expected and intended, is not at home when it is presented, and perhaps calls in a couple of days afterwards to take it up. The methodist parson has not got it, indeed it is at his attorney's, but if the gentleman will call to-morrow, he can take it up; at the same time, he believes there are two or three pounds costs upon it, which he had better be prepared to pay. "The gentleman accordingly calls the next day; the sheriff's officers are in waiting for him, and he is arrested. He is taken to a spunging-house, and there for the first time, he is astounded at the use that has been made of the interval of time between the day when the bill became due, and the day when the money was tendered. He finds that it has been endorsed by some twenty per<< sons, and that, in that interval, the whole of the twenty have had writs issued against them at a cost of three pounds each; thus leaving his debt at its original amount of forty pounds, and his costs at a trifle more than sixty pounds! It is well, then, if he have the money to pay; for if he have not, the proceedings are further carried out against all the endorsers, who are, perhaps, instructed to plead, for the purpose of swelling costs, and then there is no knowing where the amount of costs is to end. And this nefarious system is no exception to the rule of common law; by far a greater number of persons are thrown into prison by it, then ever go there from just debts: and it was once proved in court, that this very Jos. Russel held at one time upon its practice twelve prisoners in the Fleet; seventeen or eighteen in the King's Bench; and about thirty in Whitecross Street; and that upon one action brought upon a bill in a similar manner to that which we have described, where the original debt was 170l., a sum of 2001. had been paid; the furniture of three houses sold up in execution; about forty persons com→ mitted to prison, many of them of course wilfully; and that then, at the time when the defence was put in, the amount of money claimed was no less a sum than 5801. This is a fact recorded in a court of law! INFLUENCE OF HABIT. At one of the magnificent shows with which Pompey entertained the Romans for five days in succession, the populace enjoyed the death of gladiators and wild beasts; five hundred lions were killed; but on the last day, when twenty elephants were put to death, the people, unused to the sight, and moved by the unaccustomed shrieks of these animals, were seized with sudden compassion, and execrated Pompey himself for being the author of so much cruelty. ENGLISH SEPULCHRAL MONUMENTS "A certain variety," says Mr. Bloxham in his 'glimpse' at the monuments of our ancestors, "is apparent in the designs of tombs of this era, which may be classed as follows compartments, containing quatrefoils, the interior sweeps of which are richly cusped and feathered; these contain small shields, and the spandrels or spaces between the angles of the square compartment and quatrefoil are filled up with foliated tracery. Portions of panelled tracery sometimes intervene between Seach compartment, and the basement of the tomb is occasionally covered by a series of small quatrefoils in cireles. The greater number of altar tombs of this century are of this description; and that in Wimborne minster, of John Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, who died in 1444, is a fine specimen. A tomb of this kind in Meriden-church, Warwickshire, is also worthy of remark" và "First-Such as approach in style of composition the tombs of Edward the Third and Richard the; Second, and exhibit their sides covered with rich canopied niches for statues, intermixed with panelled tracery; some of these partake: so much of the characteristics. common, to tombs of the latter part of the preceding century, that it is sometimes difficult to point out any striking dissimilarity between them. Of this description are the splendid monuments in Canterbury cathedral of Henry the. Fourth, who died, in 1412; in Staindrop church, Durham, of Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmorland, who died in 1425; and in the Beauchamp chapel, Warwick, of Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, who died in 1439. "Secondly-Those tombs, the sides whereof are embellished with recesses or niches for statues, surmounted by ogee canopies, crocketted, and divided only by small buttresses, the spaces between the canopied heads of the niches being filled with panelling. Of such is the tomb of William of Wyckham; the sides are covered with arched recesses, divided by small buttresses; the heads of the arches are cusped or foliated, and surmounted by ogee-shaped canopies, and the spaces intervening between the canopies are filled with narrow arched panels, trefoil-headed. The tomb in Arundel church, Sussex, of Thomas Fitzalan, Earl of Arundel, who died in 1415, and of his countess, Bea, trix, is of the same description, though much richer in design than that of Wyckham, and has a small sculptured figure within each of the niches. "Thirdly-Such as present their sides covered with a series of narrow arched panels, cusped or foliated in the heads: exemplars of these may be seen on the tomb in Newbold church, Warwickshire, of Geoffry Allesley, who died in 1401; on that in St. Saviour's church, Southwark, of Gower, the poet, who died in 1408; and on some rich tombs in Ratcliffe church, and the Mayor's chapel, Bristol. "Fourthly-Such tombs, the sides whereof are divided into square recessed An old French writer, more remarkable CHINESE INGENUITY. The Chinese are often compelled to make their dwellings in large boats on the rivers. An officer in the navy tells me he observed one of these, who kept ducks for a living, practice an odd piece of ingenuity. In the day-time the ducks were permitted to float about, but in the night-time they were carefully collected. The keeper, when the night set in, gave a whistle, when the ducks always flew towards him with violent speed, so that they were all invariably gathered in a minute. How do you suppose he had educated his flock so effectually? He always beat the last duck. THE PARTERRE OF FICTION, POETRY, HISTORY, AND GENERAL LITERATURE. No. 39. SATURDAY, MARCH 28, 1835. Price Two-Pence. THE ANGLO-SPANISH BRIDE; riority, in the mind of the writer, to the AN HISTORIC TALE. [From the untranslated works of Cervantes.] (For the Parterre.) [This story, which, as Cervantes assures us, is founded upon fact, is highly characteristic of the state of religious and political feeling in Europe at that period; since there enters into the complication of its interest, not only, as in "The Generous Lover," the grand contest between the crescent and the cross, but also the great strife which divided and weakened Christendom itself, between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism. It possesses, too, a peculiar interest for the English reader; the scene of it being laid for the most part in England, in the reign of Elizabeth, and most of the chief actors in it being English-the queen herself among the number. The tone of the narration exhibits in a most striking manner the noble supe violent religious and national prejudices and animosities of his country and his age. Cervantes, it should be remembered, wrote this tale after the signal successes of the protestant arms of England; more especially in the defeat of the grand armada, and the sacking, yet more disgraceful to the Spanish crown, of the greatest of its commercial cities, Cadiz, had inflamed the hostile feelings of the Spanish nation against England and its queen to the highest possible pitch. Lope de Vega, the great literary contemporary, and in some sort rival of Cervantes, having been an eye-witness to the disasters of the armada, seems to have imbibed his full share of the rankling malice of disappointed enmity, long harboured against England by her humbled foe. He designated queen Elizabeth, in his writings, as a bloody Jezebel, a second Athalia, an obdurate sphynx, the incestuous progeny of a harpy. Cervantes was superior to all this. He ever spoke of the English with respect for he felt that the vigour of their character and genius deserved it. And it is remarkable that nowhere has Queen Elizabeth been portrayed in more amiable colours, than in the tale before us; yet without at all losing sight of the jealous haughtiness which so strongly characterized her general demeanour. I have rendered this story with close fidelity to the text of the author, who will be found constantly speaking in his own person; so that I have not even ventured to substitute English names for those of Spanish form, which he has given to his English personages. The reader, I conceive, is more interested in being shewn precisely how Cervantes himself wrote about England, than in the rectification of slight local incongruities, into which, with his keen and retentive observation, he never fell when treating of any one among the various localities which he had actually visited. СНАР. І. TRANSLATOR.] AMONG the spoils which the English carried off from the city of Cadiz, an English gentleman named Clotaldo, commanding a naval squadron, took with him to London a little girl about seven years old. This he did without the knowledge and against the desire of the Earl of Essex, who had the child diligently sought for in order to restore her to her parents; they having come to complain to him of the loss of their daughter, entreating him that, since he contented himself with taking the property of the inhabitants, leaving their persons free; they, his petitioners, might not have the peculiar hardship, now that they were left in poverty, to be left also without their daughter, who was the light of their eyes, and the most beautiful creature of the whole city. The Earl had orders published through all the fleet, that, on pain of death, whosoever had the girl in his possession should restore her. But neither penalty nor apprehension had power to make Clotaldo give her up, who kept her concealed in his own vessel, having conceived a sort of parental fondness for the beauty of Isabel-for that was the child's name-so that her parents at last remained without her, sad and disconsolate; and Clotaldo, rejoicing in his capture, arrived at London, and presented the lovely child to his lady as his richest prize. It fortunately happened, that all Clo taldo's family were secretly catholics, though in public they conformed to the religion of their queen. Clotaldo had a son named Ricaredo, twelve years of age, whom his parents had brought up in the love and fear of God, and a strict adherence to the truths of the catholic faith. Catalina, the wife of Clotaldo, a noble, religious, and prudent lady, grew so fond of Isabel, that she educated her with as much tenderness and diligence as if she had been her own daughter; and the child was of so good a disposition, that she learned with facility whatever they taught her. Time, and the kindness which she thus experienced, gradually banished from her memorythat which her real parents had shewn her -not so entirely, however, but that she would oftentimes remember and sigh for them. Nor, although she was learning the English language, did she lose her knowledge of the Spanish; for Clotaldo took care to bring Spaniards privately to his house, in order that they might converse with her; so that, as we have said, without forgetting her mother tongue, she spoke English as if she had been born in London. After teaching her all those kinds of needle-work which a girl cf good family ought to be mistress of, they taught her to read and write extremely well. But what she most of all excelled in was, the touching of all musical instruments proper for a woman's hand— accompanying her perfect and tasteful execution with an exquisite and enchanting voice. All these acquired graces, superadded to her natural charms, were gradually inflaming the bosom of Ricaredo, whom she affectionately attended as the son of her lord and master. Love first approached him in the guise of a certain pleasure which he felt in gazing upon Isabel's matchless beauty, and contemplating her numberless virtues and graces-loving her as if she had been his sister, with pure affection, unmingled with desire. But as Isabel grew up, who had already completed her twelfth year, this first kind feeling towards her, and gratification in beholding her, were converted into most ardent wishes of possessing her. Not that he aimed at this through any other means than becoming her husband; since from the incomparable modesty of Isabella (for so her adoptive parents called her), nothing else was to be hoped for; nor, indeed, would he have desired to entertain any other hope, had it been possible--seeing that his own good birth, and the estimation in which he held Isabella, forbade any evil intention to implant itself in his breast. Many a time did he resolve to declare his wishes to his parents, and as often did he shrink from his resolution; for he knew that they intended him for a very wealthy young Scotch lady of high rank, secretly a catholic like themselves; and it was clear, said he to himself, that, they would not give that to a slave (if Isabella could be so called), which they had already agreed to give to a lady; and so, perplexed and thoughtful, not knowing what course to take in order to attain the fulfilment of his honest wishes, his life became so wretched, that he was in danger of losing it altogether. But as it seemed to him to be great cowardice, to let himself die thus, without making any attempt to procure relief for his malady, he at length took courage, and determined to bring himself to make his wishes known to Isabella. The whole household were in sorrow and agitation on account of Ricaredo's illness; for he was beloved by all, and by his parents with the greatest tenderness-not only because he was their only son, but because his great virtue, bravery, and intelligence, well deserved it. The physicians could not find out the cause of his malady; nor did he himself either dare or choose to disclose it. At last, however, bent upon breaking through the difficulties which he had fancied,one day, when Isabella entered his apartment to wait upon him, finding that she was alone, he, with fainting voice and faltering tongue, addressed her thus: "Fair Isabella, it is owing to your own great worth, virtue, and beauty, that I am in the state in which you now see me. If you wish me not to quit this life in the greatest agony imaginable, let your own will correspond to my honourable wish-which is no other than to make you my wife, unknown to my parents; from whom I fear that, for want of knowing, as I know, how much you deserve, they would deny me that good which I so much need to possess. If you will give me your word to be mine, I forthwith pledge you my own word, as a true catholic christian, to be yours. For though I should not possess you, as indeed I shall not, until the church and my parents shall have given us their benediction, yet the mere imagining myself assured that you will be mine, will be enough to restore me to health, and to keep me cheerful and happy, until the blissful moment which I long for shall arrive." While Ricaredo was thus speaking, Isabella was listening to him with downcast eyes; clearly shewing, at that moment, that she had no less modesty than beauty, no less reserve than intelligence. And so, finding that Ricaredo was now silent, she, modest, beautiful, and sensible, answered him in these terms: "Since the time when it pleased the rigour or the clemency of heaven (for I know not well to which of the two I ought to attibute it), to take me from my own parents, Senor Ricaredo, and give me to yours; grateful for the numberless kindnesses they have done me, I have been resolved that my will should never oppose itself to theirs; so that, were it against their will, I should regard not as fortunate, but as unfortunate for myself, the inestimable favour which you seek to do me. knowledge, I should be so happy as to deserve you, I here freely tender you the liberty they may so give me; and should that be delayed or prevented, let it in the mean time soothe your wishes to know, that mine will ever sincerely desire for you all the happiness that heaven can give you." If, with their So ended Isabella's modest and sensible reply; and so began Ricaredo's recovery, and the revival of his parents' hopes, which in his illness had died away. The pair took courteous leave of each other; he with tears in his eyes; she with wonder in her heart, to find that of Ricaredo so devoted to her in love. The latter, having risen from his bed-as his parents thought, by miracle-resolved to keep his thoughts no longer secret from them; and so he one day communicated them to his mother, telling her at the end of his explanation, which was a long one, that if they did not marry him to Isabella, their denying her to him would be his sentence of death. With such arguments and such encomiums did Ricaredo extol the virtues of Isabella to the skies, as made her think that after all, the advantage of the match would be chiefly to her son. She gave him good hopes that she should succeed in inducing his father to enter willingly into the view which she herself had already embraced; and accordingly, by alleging to her husband the same reasons which her son had urged upon herself, she easily persuaded him to favour that which his son So |