tion; surely they should not have left it on Lord Cholmondeley's alone; but I ought to have had the benefit of Mrs Fitzgerald's evidence also. But, as I said before, they take no notice of her evidence; nay, they finish their Report, they execute it according to the date it bears, upon the 14th of July, and it is not until two days afterwards, namely, on the 16th, that they examine Lord Cholmondeley to the hand-writing-with what view and for what purpose, I cannot even surmise: but with whatever view, and for whatever purpose, if these letters are at all to be alluded to in their Report, or the examinations accompanying it, surely I ought to have had the benefit of the other evidence, which disproved my connection with them.' The Princess concludes as follows: Under the impression of these sentiments I throw myself at Your Majesty's feet. I know, that whatever sentiments of resentment; whatever wish for redress, by the punishment of my false accusers, I ought to feel, Your Majesty, as the Father of a Stranger, smarting under false accusation, as the head of your illustrious House, dishonoured in me, and as the great Guardian of the Laws of your Kingdom, thus foully attempted to have been applied to the purposes of injustice, will not fail to feel for me. At all events, I trust your Majesty will restore me to the blessing of your Gracious Presence, and confirm to me, by your own Gracious Words, your satisfactory conviction of my innocence.' "I was waiting one day in the "anti-room; Captain Manby "had his hat in his hand, and "appeared to be going away; "he was a long time with the "Princess, and, as I stood on "the steps, waiting, I looked "into the room in which they "were, and, in the reflection on "the looking-glass, I saw them "salute each other-I mean, "that they kissed each other's "lips. Captain Manby then "went away. I then observed "the Princess have her hand"kerchief in her hands, and "wipe her eyes, as if she was 66 crying, and went into the "drawing-room." 1 do solemnly, and upon my oath, declare, that the said passage is a vile and wicked invention; that it is wholly and absolutely false; that it is impossible he ever could have seen, in the reflection of any glass, any such thing; as I never, upon any occasion, or in any situation, ever had the presumption to salute Her Royal Highness in any such manner, or to take any such liberty, or offer any such insult to her person. And having had read to me another passage, from the same Copy of the same Deposition, in which the said Robert Bidgood says "I suspected that Captain Manby "slept frequently in the house; "it was a subject of conversa❝tion in the house. Hints were given by the servants; and I "believe that others suspected it "as well as myself." 66 should be in any degree unwilling Sworn at the Public Office, The Deposition of THOMAS LAWRENCE, of Greek Street, Soho, in the County of Middlesex, Portrait Painter. Having had read to me the follow. ing Extract from a Copy of a Deposition of William Cole, purporting to have been sworn before Lords Spencer and Grenville, the 10th day of June 1806, viz. 66 ing been informed that Sir William Beechey, upon a similar occasion, had slept in the house, for the greater convenience of executing his painting; and it having been intimated to me, that I might probably be allowed the same advantage, I signified my wish to avail myself of it; and THOMAS LEACH. accordingly I did sleep at Montague House several nights ;-that frequently, when employed upon this painting, and occasionally, between the, close of a day's sitting and the time of Her Royal Highness dressing for dinner, I have been alone in Her Royal Highness's presence; I have Her Royal Highness's presence in likewise been graciously admitted to the evenings, and remained there till twelve, one, and two o'clock; but, I do solemnly swear, I was never alone in the presence of Her Royal Highness in an evening, to the best of my recollection and belief, except in one single instance, and that for a short time, when I remained with her Royal Highness in the blue-room, or drawing-room, as I remember, to answer some question which had been put to me, at the moment I was about to retire together with the ladies in waiting, who had been previously present as well as myself; and, though I cannot recollect the particulars of the conversation which then took place, I do solemnly swear, that nothing passed between Her Royal Highness and myself, which 1 could have had the least objection for all the world to have seen and heard. I do further, upon my oath, solemnly declare, that I never was alone in the presence of Her Royal Highness in any other place, or in any other way, than as above described; and that, neither upon the occasion last mentioned, nor upon any other, was I ever in the presence of Her Royal Highness, in any room whatever, with the door locked, bolted, or fastened, otherwise than in the common and usual manner, which leaves it in "Mr Lawrence, the painter, used to go to Montague House "about the latter end of 1801, "when he was painting the Princess, and he has slept in "the house two or three nights "together. I have often seen "him alone with the Princess at "eleven or twelve o'clock at "night; he has been there as "late as one or two o'clock in "the morning. One night-I "saw him with the Princess in "the blue room after the ladies "had retired; sometime after“wards, when I supposed he was gone to his bed-room, I went to see that all was safe, "and found the blue room door "locked, heard a whispering "in it, and then went away." I do solemnly, and upon my oath, depose, that having received the commands of Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales to paint Her Royal Highness's Portrait, and that of the Princess Charlotte; I attended for that purpose at Montague House, Blackheath, several times about the beginning of the year 1801, and hav And the Miss, one ditto Miss E, one ditto Paterson, James, two landscapes Syme, J. C., three of flowers AINSLIE, John, a portrait and Somerville, D., two of figures small pieces with figures Beugo, John, two engravings Brookes, John, two portraits. T., portrait and landscape Brown, Mrs, velvet piece Bonet, T., small figure Beattie, Miss C., three flowers and shells Carse, Alexander, four small figure pieces Craig, three landscapes in water co lours Culbert, R., one, the late fire Ferguson, A., one of small figures Scott, Robert, two engravings Schetky, Miss C., three miniatures Woolford, J. E., two landscapes Galloway, Alexander, a set of mini- Specimens of eminent German Poets, atures whose Works have not been trans- (Continued from page 278.) IN our last, we gave a specimen of this author's moral and philosophical poetry. He wrote, besides, a descriptive piece which is highly esteemed, entitled Vesuvius. He enlivened the gloom of this singular subject by an extended description of the beautiful ful plain of Campania. The same observation may be made in regard to his images as to his sentiments and moral reflections. They display force, nature, and poetical fire, accompanied with a certain rudeness, and want of selection. The following passage describes the most memorable and destructive explosion of this terrible phenomenon. "When, and from what era of antiquity the mountain first began to rage, and to cast forth its floods of fire, no sage has recorded, nor is it my design to do so. I am to describe that great conflagration which arose in the reign of Titus, when the ashes were transported into Africa, and even into Egypt. Eleven times had the moon renewed her horns, since the heated ground had poured forth fire from the wide-opened gulf. The world lay careless, encircled by soft repose. Then suddenly the ground begins to raise itself, and whatever it bears; the inhabitants, struck with terror, feel the walls of their houses shaking; the sea raises its Aurora then comes pale, and almost leaves behind her shining chariot. She sees a cloud standing on the mountain, through which her rays, with all their brightness, have no power to pierce. Midnight, when the stars are veiled in mist, spreads not such deep darkness, as does this smoke, which, rising from the mountain as from its root, spreads its gloomy boughs far around. waves. Soon comes a crash, as when Jove with his thunder strikes terror into guilty mortals, so that the foundations of the world tremble; or when a hero, who stands for freedom, and performs great actions in a just cause, has broken, amid the discharge of artillery, into a city, which knows, by the law of arms, what it has to expect. The flames then break forth wildly, and in a terrible form, from the sides of the mountain; they hunt, with a cry, even to heaven's door. The whole land is covered with a polluted morass, whose black sands are filled with pitch and sulphur. Then, from the cleft, there issues a river of fire, to .which all must yield. It divides its current into seven streams, and rushes towards the shore. Meadow and hill are in flames; the corn fields are laid waste; the herd, when it wishes to feed, is itself consumed. The grass is made hay; the shady woods are swept from the ground; and all the Phlegræan fields are one wide glow; the lofty Herculaneum, the pleasant castle of Octavian; gardens and villages without number, are mingled in the conflagration. The waters tremble, and fly from the land. The people, those who are not suffocated, or swept away, run together, breathless, bereft of strength, tottering, naked and half dead, and fill, with tears and lamentations, the air, which weeps along with them. As the soldier, who sees the enemy and death before him, while the view is obscured by fire, smoke, and dust; the more he wishes to fly from the danger, the nearer he runs to it; no otherwise do they, blinded by the ashes and dust, run upon stumps and stones. One man bids good night to his burning walls; another snatches with both hands his father, who, old and weak, is no longer able to follow, and leaves his staff behind him. Another is unable to leave his wife and children. Each is busied to carry with him something which he loves above all things else. Many are led by avarice into hurt and danger; remaining themselves where their gold was. But the flame spares those who are beloved of heaven; its favour gives almost a warning sign. Thus formerly, had the pair of virtuous brothers been delivered from Etna, who, while others were bearing away their gold and effects, laid on their shoulders their aged parents. Oh what a fair burden!-the bending back of the mother, the gray hair of the waves; the father! The fire, wherever these two went, opened, and, ashamed that they should receive the smallest injury, made a free path. How is virtue the best shield to man? Meantime the fields are roasted with pitch and sulphur, the air is on fire, the woods are levelled with the ground; the sea alarmed, draws back its the stars of night, the sun itself, tremble. The whole world stands at a distance, and knows no longer what to expect. In the opinion of many the great day is come, when the Supreme Judge is to pronounce sentence upon mankind. Others imagine, that it is fire from heaven, such as consumed the guilty cities, and converted their fields into a lake of Asphaltum, whence bird and beast fly away, over which no breeze blows, which produces neither fish nor fruit on its banks. Thus the unfortunate people are in doubt as to all things. Salerno and Nola are all on the watch; Capua bends. The queen of the sea, the ornament and pride of the land, Parthenope, is nearly rent asunder; the wild beasts tremble; the hearts of the people shake. One weeps his own, a nother his neighbour's calamity; many instead of the anguish of death, wish for death itself. But most run to the temple, confess their sins, and raise their thoughts to Him who alone can give aid. Such is the use of calamity. While fortune smiles, seldom does the altar smoke; it is adversity that brings men to God! Opitz wrote also epigrams, and is said to be considered by the Germans as a master in that light species of poetry. This is not exactly our own opinion; however, we shall give the following specimens. On Age. Age sickens me; so do youthful years; the one, while it comes; the other, while it departs. On a Rich Man. Thou hast the wealth of the rich, the heart of the poor; rich in rents, poor in thyself. Epitaph. Here lies Sylvias, who did nothing in vain; he is grieved, that any one should in vain read this. An account of the Manner in which the City of GLASGOW is supplied with MILK. (By Mr AITON, Writer, Strathaven.) THE whole milk of cows kept with in about three miles of Glasgow' is carried there twice every day, and sold new; and by far the greatest part of that produced from about three to more than twelve miles from that city, is manufactured into butter and sour milk, and sold in the streets to its inhabitants. But so great is the demand there for milk, that, generally, from 600 to 700 milk cows are kept within the city, where they are fed in the stall, and their milk sold fresh. As the total number of the cows in Glasgow and its neighbourhood, whose milk is sold sweet to the citizens, must exceed 2000: as these cows are the very best of the dairy breed, collected from all parts of the country when they are in their best plight; as they are highly fed, both to procure milk and render them fat, and as they are always replaced in a few months with other cows newly calved, it may be reasonable to suppose, that each cow will yield on an average six Scottish pints of milk every day; or that the whole will yield from 12,000 to 15,000 Scottish pints of sweet milk a-day, which is more than half a pint English to each inhabitant of the city, old and young. Such an ample supply of that whole |