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from them, farther than a laugh at tirely removed by the letter of the our expence, that would be the pro- Rev. Thomas Glover, nor do we feel per treatment to give them. But the perfectly convinced by the quarto vopropagation of such notions keeps lume of the Physician to the Liveralive those feelings of mutual con- pool Infirmary. We have read the tempt, hatred, and animosity, which whole of the Doctor's preface, narraprepare the population of both coun- tive, and appendix ; and the conclutries to rush again with eagerness into sion at which we have arrived is, that hostilities, and to embrue their hands the powers ascribed to Miss M'Avoy in each other's blood. Were it pos are altogether miraculous, not to be sible to make us believe that virtue, accounted for by reference either to genius, and amiable feeling, may be experience or analogy, and unparallelfound among the French, and to make ed by any of those singular deviations the French believe that civilized, po- from the established laws of nature lite, intelligent, and upright men may which sometimes baffle the wisdom be found in Britain ; in short, were of the wise, while they afford abunit possible to give the two nations a dant matter for the wonder, credulity, mutual esteem for each other, more and exaggeration of the vulgar. would thereby be done towards pre Before, however, proceeding to shew, serving the peace of Europe than is from Dr Renwick's own statements, likely to be accomplished by the Holy the grounds which we have for comAlliance itself. The feelings of the ing to such a conclusion, it may be people, in this country at least, have 'necessary to inform such of our readstill some influence on the govern ers as are not acquainted with the ment; and, could we happily be circumstances, that this is a narrative brought to perceive, that there is no- given in the form of a journal of a thing in the French character so very medical case ;-that Miss Margaret offensive to God or man, as to make M'Avoy is a young lady of Liverpool, it either very meritorious or very glo- who entered the eighteenth year of rious for us to take the ships, bom- her age on the 28th of last June ; and bard the towns, and cut the throats that, from nine months upwards, she of that nation, perhaps one day we has always been in bad health. Her might save ourselves many hard blows first ailment appears to have been on our own heals, and avoid many some affection of the brain or its membitter groanings under a load of tax- branes, as her recovery was owing to ation, the sure accompaniment of the a discharge of thick matter from her pastime of war. He, therefore, who ears and nostrils. She next had the wantonly exasperates the feelings of scarlet-fever and hooping-cough, which national hostility between us and last was succeeded by a violent inflamFrance, has to answer to a heavy mation of her eyes.

“When the eyecharge at the bar of reason and mo- lids were raised up,” says Dr Renrality; and he who endeavours, with- wick, " the eye-balls appeared as one out flattering either, to allay these mass of blood." They were cured by animosities, has at least the merit of Johnston's golden ointment. In Octoattempting to do a service to both. ber 1814 she caught a violent cold,

attended with cough, loss of appetite,

and great debility. In February 1815 A Narrative of the Case of Miss Mar. the body was much swollen. On the

her thighs became ædematous, and garet M'Avoy, with an Account of 4th of June 1816, Dr Renwick resome Optical Experiments connected with it. By Thomas RENWICK,

ceived a message to visit her early M. D. Physician to the Liverpool next morning; and he describes the Infirmary. 4to. London, 1817.

condition in which he found her,

in a report on the 5th, from which When we first heard of this won we extract the following particulars. derful lady, in the tea-table gossip of She had taken little or

no food this city, and her extraordinary powers, for the last three weeks. The bowels we must confess that we could not were habitually costive; pulse varied help suspecting her to be another edi- from 84 to 146. There had been ng tion of the fasting-woman,

or of Ca- appearance of the menses for three raboo, the late celebrated Princess of months. She complained of cough, Japan. Our suspicions were not en- pain in the right side, tightness of

the chest, dyspnoea, and palpitation of the day, by placing her finger upon the heart; also of violent pain in the the watch-glass; that she can tell the fore and back part of the head, with a number of persons in the street, their throbbing and beating sensation. The dress and occupation, by placing her vessels of the coats of the eye were fingers on a pane of the window-glass filled with red blood, but she suffere in the inside of the room, we cannot ed very little uneasiness from the ac- avoid taking refuge from the painful tion of light. She was much affected influence of those overwhelming myswith giddiness ; was nearly blind of teries in the retreats of stubborn scepthe left eye; and, for some days, ticism. every object she had seen with the January 17, 1817.-" This day she right appeared white if at a distance; not only declared the colour of differe if near, it appeared double. On the ent cloths, cotton and silk, but several 7th she appeared totally blind. On pieces of silk that were inclosed in a the 9th she was seized with convul- small phial bottle !"-"A watch was sions. About three o'clock on the af- given into her hands, she felt the surternoon of the 12th she was observed face of the glass, and soon named the to gasp for breath, and complained of hour !" a sense of suffocation from something June 28.-" Traced and told sevepassing down her throat that was very ral colours of silk inclosed in a glassoffensive in taste and smell. The bottle !" convulsions ceased from the time of Experiment 19.-“ With her hands the discharge taking place; but the upon the window perceived two newa beating complained of in the back ly cut stones of a yellow colour, lying part of the head did not subside un- one on another against the wall on the til the 17th. She then felt a sore- other side of the street, distance about ness over the whole body. The top 12 yards !". August 4th.—“ With of the head became peculiarly sen- her hand placed behind her upon the sible. Her hearing, which had been window, opposite to the communion dull from childhood, was now very end of the church, she told the figures acute. On the 2d of August she had of different people passing, and somebecome very expert in sewing, al- times named the colour of their clothes. though she was said to have been She told also the position of four differblind from the 6th or 7th of June. ent workmen in the church-yard, one

now that her wonderful by one as they sat down, and then of powers began to be developed. She the four she stated one to be reading a was able to thread her needle fre- paper or book, the second to have his quently at the first effort. Early in hands folded across his breast; the September she pointed out to her fa- third with his hands in his breeches ther-in-law a particular passage in a pocket, and so on.” book that was put into her hands, and We have not space for more of these read part of it. This induced them wonders ; but enough we hope has to try her with another book, and on been said to excuse our incredulity. presenting her with a large folio bible On a future occasion we may try even she read several verses. She felt the to justify it; and to shew, from the letters with her fingers before she Narrative itself, that it is at least as pronounced the word, and had she probable that Miss M'Avoy is not alstopped here we might have been in- together blind, as that she is endowed clined to give some credit to her with the capacity of perceiving the powers; for we know that the sense of forms, and colours, and locality of touch is often most astonishingly a distant objects, by passing her fingers cute, and she might be able to dis- along the panes of a window. There cover the form of a letter by the fins is here, indeed, as Hume might have ger passing over it. Nay, we will said upon reading the evidence of such even allow, that it was possible for learned, and, we make no doubt, hoe her to acquire the faculty of distin- nourable men, a terrible conflict beguishing colours in the same way, by tween probabilities. We already antouching the object; but when we ticipate on which side victory will are told, that she can tell the hour of rest.

It was

ORIGINAL POETRY.

MOHALED-a Tale.

Indignant as her tale proceeds

Through ruthless and oppressive deeds; THE Moon leans o'er the groves of pine She waves her hand with threatening air, That crown the cloudless Appenine, As if her father's might were there ; And from the bosom of the night

And such a curse was in his eye, The vales burst with their rills of light, When fierce he thrust, and thundered, That slide down grassy slopes, or spring “ Die !” From rocks, with ceaseless murmuring. But quickly past the tempest sweeps ; The Var beneath her paly glow

Again the woman melts and weeps Reposes, white as desart snow

Thus the pent torrent jets and roars Between his level banks, that gleam Between its strait and ragged shores, In dew resplendent as his stream.

Or shoots the headlong gulf amain There the soft moonlight sleeps, and fair Impatient of its mountain chain ; Each diamond star is twinkling there. Then soothed the meads and groves among So bright the glittering pictures lie, In flowers and music glides along. Earth smiles like an inferior sky;

Sweet childhood's verineil scenes arise Prepared for pure and sainted things In sun-tints laughing to the skies ; To worship in, while living strings, And long enamoured memory plays Instinct with music's spirit, move,

Infantine, in the thornless maze; And feed their burning hearts with love. When safe the modest tioweret lay

Are these of heaven that slowly glide A bud of promise on the spray. Beside the Var's unconscious tidle,

This vision fades, and upward springs Twin forms in loveliness, bedight

Glad youth with glory on his wings.
In shining robes of virgin white ?

Joys more intense, but less sincere,
Their flaxen locks in masses rolled, Urge their magnificent career ;
Fall clustering o'er their zones of gold ; And pleasure in the bounding vein
Half-veiling polished arms of snow, Defiance pours to grief and pain.
That join in loving folds below.

“ Now from this summer hill of bliss, A swelling brow, an eye of blue,

Look forward. From the drear abyss
Beam those ungathered tresses through ; The soul turns gloomily, for there
And bosoms 'neath that lucid skreen The shadows frown of my despair.
In bud-like purity are seen :

0! Anna, can I breathe that name So stands an angel, when he springs Which comes across my soul like flame, To earth, and folds his spangled wings. Straining to madness every cord

Onward the cloud-like creatures float ; That name beloved accurst-adored ! The flowers spring as they felt them not; His image rises in my brain ; And from the grass no rustling sound He looks, he speaks, he loves again ; Tells that their small feet press the ground; And, spite of nature's partial will, Till, where a lonely oak hath laid

He reigns within my bosom still. Across the flood his tower-like shade, His honours fresh, and sweetly worn, Whose head, in the blue depth afar, Lovely he came—as summer's morn Is diademed with many a star,

Leaps o'er the dew-bright hill, and gives Their motions cease. A tear, a sigh, Delight to every thing that lives ! The bosom lifts, and gems the eye, Though young in arms, his deeds were As on their heaven-ward faces streaming

told The downy light is softly beaming. In bower and hall by warriors bold; Alas! sad stream, a human tear

Who dropt the old heroic story Is trembling in thy mirror clear ;

To kindle at my hero's glory.
And in a bosom crushed and torn His birth unknown,—but you might spy
That long despairing sigh was born! In his clear front, and lofty eye,
Behold, beside thy starry water,

Native nobility,--a claim
Alveni's bleeding-hearted daughter ! Felt and confessed where'er he came.
And one whose sympathetic ear,

Oft by Alveni's side he stood
Alone her tragic tale must hear,

In rugged hours of strife and blood, While with the eloquence of woe,

The pillar of our house, and far Broken with sobs, her sorrows flow; Roll'd danger from the banks of Var. Now scarcely audible, and drowned

In gratitude my friendship sprungIn tears, half sinking to the ground On friendship love his blossoms hung, And now rekindles in her face

And sweet the fruit. Why should I tell The high-ton'd spirit of her race,

How first the blushing secret fell

In music from his lips ? 'Mid fears That in his arms my deadliest foe,
And doubts our passion grew for years ; The veriest fiend that breathes below,
Till on a field his valour won

Mohaled_hath a welcome found !”
My sire triumphant hail'd him son ! (And threw a savage glance around.)
And said the noblest of the land

“ Him I demand,” Alveni cried ; Should yield to him his daughter's hand, " Who told thee so,

by heaven ! hath lied ! If he would deign-He clasp'd his knee, And thou dost wrong me to give place And owned he fought and bled for me! Within thy soul to thought so base." “ For her, and not for fame, or spoil, Dubious he hears, and wavering seems In war's determined ranks I toil.

Shrunk in himself like one who dreams. For who Alveni's child would won, Then yielding with a generous tear, Must prove himself a soldier's son!” “ Forgive me Sire ! Correglia dear!

The bridal feast is drawn. The voice Pardon a wretch who never knew
Of music bids the heart rejoice.

One love sincere—one friendship true ;
Springs the light dance, the spirits rise Whose very blood severe distress
In throbbing veins and glancing eyes ; Hath turned to gall and bitterness.
And in the many-tapered hall

This kind embrace renews the chain
One face of gladness smiles o'er all ! Of filial sympathies. The pain

But what is mortal mirth ? A gleam Of utter loneliness departs, Of star-light on a turbid stream,

To feel I live in human hearts ! Vivid—but in a moment gone

Even now thy renovating power, And dark the sounding flood rolls on. Hath half restored the gracious hour Sudden, amid the glittering crowd, Of youth, when, winged with buoyant minds, An unrejoicing stranger stood :

We played 'mong flowers like summer winds. His sun-scathed brow a turban crowned, Since then, alas! what woe, what pain A daggered sash his tunic bound ; Hath wrung my heart, and parched my But, soiled and dim, his arms and dress

brain ! Bespoke a recreant's wretchedness.

An exile, a dishonoured slave ! As one, he seemed, in battle crossed, I've courted like a bride, the grave; His honour, cause, and courage lost ; But heaven denied, and urged me still But breathing still, in low estate,

Through each vicissitude of ill. An inextinguishable hate,

Or must I say in that dark strife Feeding on desperate thoughts that burn, Hate was the principle of life, Like watch-fires, till the day return. Which linked my soul and stubborn frame, Alone he stood, with gloomy air,

Till I had washed in blood my fame! A statue 'neath the torches' glare ; Lest proud Mohaled-Wretch accurst !" For all with secret awe inspired

He cried, and sternly from us burst.From the mysterious guest retired. And where his fiery glances fell But as I gazed a flickering train

Stepped forward my betrothed Gobell. of phantoms moved athwart my brain, He raised his stately head : “ Beware! Confused with dreamlike reveries I spared, but may not always spare ! As when a breath disturbs the trees, Enow have bled_let those who live Sun-glimpses down the fluttering glade Think of the present, and forgive." In busy fragments sport with shade. “ Traitor!" said Lodi, “thou dost well And when he raised his turban's fold, Reminding me of those who fell ! And down his auburn tresses rolled, Now let their spirits joy to see Curling around his cheeks and brow, Due vengeance done their wrongs by me! The tongue needs not interpret now! And this arm like a withered bough Nor words express a brother's claim, Shrink if it play the stripling now!”Or tell Correglia Lodi's name.

And struck with all his force, but erred ; “ My brother !”-“ Oh my son !"-We Gobell unwounded grasped him hard flew

With circling arms,-through back and To clasp him—but he backward drew

breast Disdainful, while a hasty streak

His cruel steel the murderer prest! Of anger flushed his marble cheek, Then to the floor, with haughty swing, Leaving it paler, and his eyes

He threw him like a loathsome thing. Shot lightning —" Touch me not,” he My eyes grew dark—a shrilly cry cries,

of grief and horror rung on high ; " I cannot feign. This heart can feel But motionless each coward hand, No more-its cords are cold as steel. And sheathed each slow and worthless Forget me, as you had forgot,

brand, Or seemed to do. It matters not.

Till through the ring, with dauntless stride, “ Have chains, and insults, and disgrace, Passed the tremendous homicide, Worn child and brother from my face ! And far behind him threw the tower And disinheriting despair

And pursuit of Alveni's power." Cast Lodi from Alveni's care,

( To be continued.)

LINES.

more.

food ;

age ?

As time rolls on, with step less firın is seen On visiting the Sepulchral Monument of To mount the stile, or tread the village

Robert Burns, at Dumfrics. ( By Eagles green ; field Smith, Esq.)

Then bent and tottering joins the market

throng, SCOTLAND's sweet bard, “ the muse's But finds the road too rough, the way too pride,"

long. Here starv'd amidst renown;

At last condemned, before her cottage door, Here poor he lived, and poor he died, To view the travellers she must join no

The chief boast of your town. Who from his sufferings turn'd aside, Her utmost effort now to reach the wood, Hard as these chisel'd stones ;

And pick the faggot, for her evening's Say, was't through penitence or pride You thus entomb'd his bones ?

Which (pausing oft) she homewards still For well I wot the bard we've lost,

can bring, Had sung in times to come,

Or draw, with feeble hand, her beverage Had he been spar'd but half the cost

from the spring. You've lavished on his tomb. *

Her children, once the objects of her care,
Must now, in turn, the hoarded shilling

spare,

Prom distance sent, and grudging, one by SONNET.

one, On receiving the Scenes of Infancy from a

To help her needs,--for comforts she had Lady.

none !

Alas! what comfort waits life's latest stage, DEPARTED patriot of the Border land, When poverty contends with trembling Leyden, I love thy animated lay, That swell’d, tho' mouldering fast into de The good old dame this bitter potion tried, cay,

In patience tasted,--and in patience died ! The magic harp of ancient Teviot's strand; Helpless,- alone,—without one stander by Which, tun’d to harmony at thy command, To wet the lip, or close the glazing eye ; Flings its wild notes by glen and how'ry Unknown,-until, the day's long labour brae,

sped, Then sweeps along the wold, and dies a Some dropping neighbour called, and found way

that she was dead. In solemn cadence by the breezes fann'd. Summoned in haste, her nearest kindred But 0! if e'er I loved these strains of come, thine,

Unpaid, to bear her to her latest home. I love them more that thou'rt forever gone Hopeless of scarf or gloves to smooth his toil, To worship at a pure and heavenly shrine ; His thoughts on hunting all intent the Yet more I love them, being the gift of one while, To me a friend, of all friends most sincere, (For it might chance, when to the grave And dearer even than thy Aurelia dear! was borne

H. The dame, it might be a clear scenting

morn,

And tempting in his ear might sound the OLD AGE, AND DEATH OF THE POOR. echoing horn.) A Fragment, in Imitation of Crabbe.

The mutter'd prayers in haste the parson

read; The frugal widow, who, for many a mile, In haste, the surly sexton raised his To market long has trudged, by path and spade, stile,

And on the human earth the covering With hat of black, and cloak that once earth was laid. was red,

The mute attendants, eager all to go, And basket cramm’d with eggs upon her Hear the last blessing, pay the parting bow; head,

Full of life's various cares, they quit the Or ducks or chickens her own hands scene, had fed ;

And scarce remember here that death has

been ; * For every sore 'tis said there is a salve ; All, save the son, who, as he home returns, “ They help'd to honour whom they Thinks of the coffin yet unpaid, and

help'd to starve."

mourns.

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