nounce now and for ever the profits of a new edition which I have unfortunately sanctioned, and which is now being sold in Holland.' In this case a lesson of no small importance is taught to authors who thoughtlessly abuse their powers in the prime of life, that, acting so, they prepare thorns for the pillow of their death-bed. The grief of La Fontaine was great, but neither this, nor the dangerous state in which he lay, could prevent contemporary wits from launching their satires at the penitent, and his happy conversion was deemed a fit subject for epigram. It was after all doubted by some of his contemporaries whether his professions were really genuine. One striking and unostentatious proof, however, that they were so, was supplied when his tongue was mute for After he had breathed his last, when those about him proceeded to undress the body, preparatory to interment, they found that he wore a shirt of hair-cloth next his skin, ever. 'As if a death of lingering pain To cleanse his sins were penance vain.' This, at all events, must be admitted to offer strong evidence that his repentance was not acted for the sake of outward show." The Gatherer. Costly Relics.-The ivory chair which Gustavus Vasa received from the town of Lubeck, was sold, the Journal des Débats says, in 1823, for the sum of 58,000 florins -not far short of £6,000. The coat worn by Charles XII, of Sweden, at the battle of Pultawa-preserved by colonel Rosen, who followed the adventurous monarch to Bender-was sold in 1825 at Edinburgh, for the sum of £22,000 sterling! This anecdote the French paper thinks should have confirmation. M. A. Lenoir, the founder of the French Museum, relates that, during the transport of the remains of Abelard and Heloise to the Petits Augustins, an Englishman offered him 100,000 francs (£4000) for one of the teeth of Heloise! National Literature.-" A national literature is a subject which should always be approached with reverence. It is difficult to comprehend fully the mind of a nation; even when that nation still lives, and we can visit it—and its present history, and the lives of men we know, help us to a comment on the written text. But here the dead alone speak. Voices, half understood; fragments of song, ending abruptly, as if the poet had sung no farther, but died with these last words upon his lips; homilies, preached to congregations that have been asleep for many centuries; lives of saints, who went to their reward long before the world began to scoff at sainthood; and wonderful legends, once believed by men, and now, in this age of wise children, hardly credible enough for a nurse's tale; nothing entire, nothing wholly understood, and no farther comment or illustration than may be drawn from an isolated fact found in an old chronicle, or perchance a rude illumination in an old manuscript! Such is the literature we have now to consider. Such fragments and mutilated remains has the human mind left of itself, coming down through the times of old, step by step, and every step a century.”— Longfellow. Origin of the sign of the Pig and Whistle. -The many odd combinations which form the signs of our public houses, can generally be accounted for by the corruptions which have been introduced in the pronunciation of what was originally really intended to be represented. The well-known case of the battle at the "Boulogne Mouth," changed into the "Bull and Mouth," is an instance of this operation. It is evident that the " Pig and Whistle" is another. It was originally the "Peg and Wassail," alluding to a drinking custom introduced by the Danes, of affixing a number of pegs in the side of the bowl, each one drinking down exactly to a peg. There is a description of such a drinkingvessel, found in Glastonbury Abbey, in custom, nothing could be more appropriate Hone's Every-Day Book. Being a jovial for a sign to a public-house; and the traditional manner of representing the musicstand confirms this derivation: it is constituted of a punch-bowl, drinking glasses, and other drinking paraphernalia. tried in the court of Exchequer, by a speChimney-Doctors.-In 1750, a cause was cial jury, between a famous chimney-doctor, plaintiff, and the earl of Berkeley defendant, for a pretended cure of the earl's chimneys from smoking (though they were proved in court to smoke as bad as ever), when, after a trial of nine hours, the plaintiff was cast, to the no small mortification of the fraternity of chimney-doctors, sevetheir brother doctor, attempted to prove a ral of whom being examined on behalf of custom of five guineas a chimney to be paid, though no agreement should be made concerning it. St. Denis.-In the museum at Cologne, there is a stately figure of a bishop, St. Denis, with half his head from above the unshrinking witness of the true faith, with eyebrows in his hand-yet he stands the all the nobility of expression preserved, though the noblest seat of it be away. H.A. Burstall, Printer, 2, Tavistock-street, Strand. parts. The mouth of the volcano is to the east, and the air on the summit is very cold. Among the strange varieties here presented, Labat mentions that at a small distance from the shore the sea is so hot it will boil eggs. There is a boiling fountain and a hot marsh; the latter, deceitful in its appearance, has often proved fatal to strangers. The visitor is reminded, by what he sees here, of the sulphur mountains in Denmark, where cauldrons of boiling mud are thrown up at intervals from an abyss in which fire and brimstone are from age to age constantly in action. Point a Petre, the subject of our cut, a town of considerable importance, carrying on an extensive and various commerce, was completely destroyed a few years back, by the united ravages of an earthquake and fire. In addition to the dead, who were computed at not less than 2000, between 1500 and 1800 men were more or less wounded. The sympathy excited in France at the time for the sufferers in the ill-fated city was very great, and telegraphic orders were issued to Brest, Toulon, and Rochefort, to forward money, medicaments, and a million of rations. SKELLIG NIGHT. BY FRANCIS O'SULLIVAN. Old maids and bachelors, and it was the case in all ages, are undeservedly held to ridicule, by young people, who omit no opportunity of informing them that a dutiful obligation is neglected. These hints are always acutely felt, let the individual feel ever so happy in celibacy, or should the motives for disregarding parental obedience be even praiseworthy. A useless member of society, who injures no one, scarcely meets with general censure; but all ranks, without distinction, seem to join in the uproar against the wight, who, exiled from matrimony, is sure to defraud a second individual of those comforts auxiliary to domestic happiness. Dreading that they are to be similarly wronged, by permitting such an avaricious tendency to extend itself throughout the community, the young in particular lift up their voices against the old bachelor or maid, for the purpose of warning their own circle of the unpopularity arising from this callous neglect. In addition to the jargon of abuse, they also describe fictitious modes of punishment or places of durance, as the final consequence of determined obduracy; but as the purgatory varies according to the custom of every nation, we shall here be content with selecting one of moderate antiquity, from the usages of Southern Ireland. The Skelligs are insular rocks situated in the Atlantic Ocean, a few leagues distant from the coast of Kerry. They are bleak, barren, and precipitous, and remind the spectator, even when the surrounding waters are hushed to a smooth and gurgling swell, of some place of banishment, where the convicts are to be excluded for ever from worldly intercourse. When viewed at sunset from the sea, if nothing disturb the silence, the mind actually thrills with dread to behold sublimity of prospect and depth of exclusion so awfully blended together; but when the ocean rises in its rage, they sink their dark heads nearly to the white foam; and though their bases are perdurably fixed, to the dizzy sight they seem to tumble about playfully in the huge billows, that break into vast fields resembling snow, rise high into the air, and descend upon the hollow-sounding rocks like thundering cataracts. This is the place selected by young persons, and admitted for the sake of good old custom by those advanced in life, as the retreat of individuals who eschew the married state. Thither they are said to repair, when fully resolved on celibacy, where a certain penance is also to be inflicted on them, so that idleness should not endanger the virtue of declining years. But strange is that penitential work! Whatever may be chosen for the male recluses, in accordance with their natural bent of mind, there is but one choice left for the females that of repairing men's old wearables, particularly an unmentionable article of apparel! At this work there is to be unceasing employment, rendered the more distressing inasmuch as it is compulsory, until death effects a release from misery, when their unburied bones will be exposed amongst the thousands of bleached skeletons that whiten the cliffs. As a few may still be bold enough to remain in society, a certain night is appointed annually for compelling them to set out and join their isolated friends. This is the evening preceding Ash Wednesday, which is proclaimed in the streets by boys sounding cow-horns, beating old kettles, and producing a horizonous combination of discordant sounds. They pour in gangs through the thoroughfares, knocking loudly at those doors where unmarried people are found, and shouting in various accents, "Come to Skellig." However bachelors and maids may be disposed to treat this summons on any other night in the year, when Shrove Tuesday arrives they seem extremely timid, and will not venture near the street; and some even go so far as to close their shops, and extinguishing all lights in their front windows, to repair to the back part of their premises. In a town where this custom is still in Vogue, there resided an old gentleman named Maurice Flinn, who resolved on a certain anniversary thereof, in consequence of the annoyance he received, that should he pass over that occurrence in health, he "never, never" again should be in danger of going to Skellig. That he made this promise, be it rash or conciliating, was given to public knowledge in a whisper, by a widow housekeeper whom he kept to look after his domestic business. When the time passed over, the public looked out anxiously for the performance of Mr. Flinn's promise, which, though he pretended to forget, they never for a moment lost sight of; but he floated down the stream of the succeeding year, quite regardless of his good resolution, until the dreaded hour was just at hand again. With terror he watched its approach, and regretted the favourable opportunity elapsing, if he had but the courage to propose, of effecting a redemption from the threatened condemnation. He canvassed his heart, pointed at some sedate partner, trembled, sighed, and sank again to lethargy, whilst the slightest fortitude might have made him successful. On the morning of Shrove Tuesday, he opened his hall-door in a melancholy mood, and looked up at the sky, full of gloomy reflections at his unfortunate condition. He was noticed by a lady living opposite, of similar circumstances, somewhat younger than he was, who experienced very great annoyance also, but bore it with more resignation. Whilst, in her morning gown, she opened her window, and reached out to button the shutters against the wall, she looked smilingly towards him, contrary to her usual manner, caused perhaps by a dread of the event, and asked engagingly, "Mr. Flinn, are you ready to go to Skellig?" He was harrowed into a look of cheerfulness, and putting on a leaden smile, answered: "Oh! aye- Miss Moore- -oh! aye, certainly, Miss Moore." "The weather will be favourable, I believe," she observed, imitating him in taking sky-observations. "It does look pretty favourable, too," he remarked, whilst a sigh almost choked him. From words of common import, such as adjust the intimacy between acquaintances, in a hurried meeting, they entered into lengthened conversation; and Mr. Flinn stepped lightly across the street, tiptoe in his slippers, to render their sorrow the less by awakening mutual interest in the kindred grievance. Night came on clad in terrors, and the first sound of some cow-horn re-echoed in his heart. He removed to a little back parlour, so as to be as much out of hearing as possible; but it was no use, for the terrific serenades of old kettle-bands, the noise of whistles, the firing of squibs and crackers, and the direful, oft-repeated summons, "Come to Skellig," accompanied with a row-de-dow on the knocker enough to awaken the entranced, reached his ears so distinctly, that once or twice he wished himself in the condemned island, without the trouble or exposure of going thither publicly. Every gang that rushed past poor Mr. Flinn's house reminded him of his broken promise, and his unpardonable neglect during the past year. He felt it severely, poor man! as he sat down, overwhelmed with dread, and endeavoured to drown his anxiety with a solitary tumbler of hot grog. He pitied Miss Moore for the first time in his life; and as his spirits were being influenced by the liquor, he resolved on purchasing another pardon from his tormentors, by expressing public sorrow for his neglect, and solemnly promising to enter the married state without delay. Often did he arise with this bold intention, and as often did he fail, sinking into confused thought; until a thundering repetition of knocks, that shivered the door almost to splinters, made him courageous; and fixing his mind at its utmost force, he arose, tremulous with joy, that some hope of escaping from such annual torment was in view. He chose a silent interval for coming to the door, and in the dark he opened it wide, and stood boldly on the threshold. Not long was he waiting so, when a gang of boys and girls rushed up, who, not forgetful of him, were about to arouse him to a state of readiness for his journey; but they were astonished to find the door open, and without suspecting any opposition, they formed a half circle round him. "Are you not ready yet, you old fool?" asked a boy of diminutive size, but fearful voice, on this occasion. "Get your hat, and come to Skellig, you old rogue!" cried a louder voice, from a more formidable summoner. "Come to Skellig, you old rogue!" was then shouted by some fifty different voices, the crowd swelling by new accessions, who figured in this nocturnal carnival. "I shall make good my promise, I solemnly- -" cried Mr. Flinn, motioning to be heard. He was interrupted by different exclamations of "Don't believe him-he promised the same last year, the old liar!don't believe a word he says-pull him along!" "I solemnly declare I shall-" endeavoured poor Mr. Flinn. "Oh, you liar-you old rogue-you deceiver-bring him along!" from some hundred excited bosoms. They gathered around him, and forced him from the door, which his old housekeeper watched, as she silently enjoyed the fun; and like the Lilliputians and the manmountain, what was wanting in personal strength was supplied by numbers, until they had him amongst them, in the middle of the street. He begged, struggled, and promised, but it had no weight on his furious captors, who pushed him across to Miss Moore's door, where they called to demand her presence in like manner. It may be imagined from this, that Maurice Flinn was a man of small stature, and as such was easily managed by the juvenile gang; but it will astonish to state, that he was one of the largest men in the province, whose simple prostration in any direction would crush like a tower many of the surrounding foe. He was laid in the cradle with the bones and strength of Hercules, but there it ceased; and as he grew up, he became weaker in proportion to increasing bulk, until at last he had scarcely the power to move himself forward, unless propelled by some great inward impulse. If by leaning against a wall or a pillar, either might tumble to the ground, so it may; but if the pulling down required the additional force of another pound, the object might stand in his way for ever, and Maurice would not strive to remove the obstacle. Such was the man who solicited pardon of the young enemies to celibacy, declaring that he was "more sinned against than sinning," whilst they declared him to be a notorious sinner. In this condition he might have remained longer, had not something of more importance than the request of the crowd caused Miss Moore's door to be opened, by which opportunity Mr. Flinn quickly profited, and hastened into the maiden lady's presence, pale with hearts. And it came to pass, that on the ensuing Shrove Tuesday night, Mr. and Mrs. Flinn, in their dotage, were the most vociferous amongst those who terrified old bachelors and maids by that thrilling summons" Come to Skellig." THE CITY OF TETUAN. The course of events threatens to bring us more intimately acquainted with Africa than heretofore. In the last year the emperor of Morocco incurred the displeasure of France, and hostilities commenced which ended in a peace, the terms of which were dictated by France. Abd-elKader, a daring and successful chief, had made himself formidable to the French. The aid he derived from the emperor of Morocco, it was presumed, supplied the means, and the latter was bound to afford him no further assistance or retreat. Contrary to expectation, these measures have not enfeebled the bold Arab, who recently succeeded in cutting off 450 French soldiers. All France is in a fever on account of the disaster. An expedition is now fitting out, against Morocco it is presumed, whose emperor will be charged in due time with bad faith, and flagrant violations of the treaty of peace. Its territory will probably be over-run by French armies, unless the climate, far more formidable than the sword, shall admonish the wasting conquerors to withdraw. Tetuan is an important town or city in the empire of Morocco. It is situate in the province of El Garb, near the river of Busega, about a league and a half inland from the Mediterranean. Till the year 1770, the consuls of the European powers were established there. At that date the emperor Seedy Mahomet ordered their removal, and could not be prevailed upon to allow them to return. The fortifications of Tetuan are formidable in appearance, though it is more than probable they will not be able to offer any effectual resistance to European gunnery. Bold and ferocious as the Moors are known to be, as a nation they want strength. They are in fact, notwithstanding their long intercourse with the Europeans, still mere barbarians. They are a mixture of Jews and Spaniards, who speak a corrupt Spanish, and distil from figs and raisins an ardent spirit, which, when it has been kept some time, resembles Irish usquebaugh. A recent traveller gives us the following picture of the manner in which the Moors live: "The favourite dish of the country is kouskous, which is prepared as follows:A dough is made of wheaten flour, and is pressed through a sieve made of stout |