A RECENT Occurrence in the neigh bourhood of Battersea, strongly reminds me of a similar catastrophe that happened in America a few years since. Would to Heaven that such scenes were less common! they are alike outrages against all laws divine and human, and forcibly impress upon us the necessity of blotting out this stain upon our national character. The practice is repugnant to our moral feelings, and it would be well for the peace of society if this remnant of feudal times were for ever banished from the customs of civilized_and_christianized England. Not that England bears the censure alone; for the practice is not confined to the sea-girt isle. In the land of the west, this practice has increased to an alarming extent, and in the southern boundaries of the United States, as well as the northern, many have fallen victims to this false notion of honour. Many have clearly shown, by the most conclusive arguments, that honour has little to do with it, that it is not the mark of courage, and that the unwillingness to meet a fellow being single-handed in this contest of blood, ought not, in any case, to bear the detestable name of cowardice. Frederick Gwho had been educated at the Military Academy of the United States, at West Point, a romantic situation on the banks of the Hudson river. After passing through the usual course of study, he was at length honoured with a lieutenant's commission in the American army. He was possessed of noble sentiments and a nice sense of honour. Among his brother students in the seminary, he was justly esteemed for the suavity of his manners, and respected by his instructors for his diligent application to study, and his cheerful submission to their injunctions. He was altogether a young man of superior attainments, and promised long to gratify the partial feelings of friendship, to be an ornament to the profession to which he belonged, and a benefit and a blessing to mankind. In the neighbourhood of the place in which he completed his studies, in a sequestered solitary spot, lay interred the remains of an unfortunate victim to the was a young man dictates which a barbarous custom has introduced. He spoke of his solitary walks to this spot to me in a manner honourable to his feelings, and from the sentiments he expressed on the subject, no one would ever have imagined that he would at length be offered at the shrine of this demon of iniquity. His frequent remark, in aliusion to this individual, was, "Died Abner, as a fool dieth.' Alas! the time was soon to arrive, when these words could with singular propriety be applied to his own conduct. Soon after he received his commission, he was sent on duty to Natchez, a military station on the banks of the Great Mississippi river. While on a party of pleasure, some slight offence was given to one of the company, to whom no apology was acceptable, though apology was offered. A challenge was the consequence, and what has happened in so many instances happened in this-this misguided young man fell beneath the murderous weapon of his antagonist. The ball passed through him, and he expired on the spot, leaving his friends to mourn his untimely exit, and his adversary to the bitter reflection, that the man who had never intentionally given him offence, he had sent in the flower of his days to darkness and the grave. When Here is another instance of the cruelty and impolicy of the practice; the offence scarcely merited reproof-it was visited with death. Death is an awful visitation under almost any circumstances. the bed of the departing is surrounded with anxious relatives and friends all willing to alleviate the pangs of dissolution, soothed by the endearments of friendship, and consoled into the prospect of a brighter state of being, the spirit becomes submissive, and prepares with confidence to meet the advances of the Spectre King. When the warrior resigns his life on the field of battle, where, at duty's call, he has met and contended with his country's foes, visions of glory fleet before him; he falls honourably in the cause of freedom and of man, and his grateful country inscribes his name and deeds among the brave, the honourable, and the wise. But the duellist has no such prospect; he falls in the moment of excited passion, produced oftentimes by some trifling cause, and he gives up his life rather than be pointed at by the finger of scorn, and marked as a man destitute of courage. Were there no hereafter, man even then would not be justified in risking a life that the common frailty of nature must soon compel him to resign, and when once resigned, can never be renewed or recalled. when we reflect on the consequences that may attend such a sudden summons into But the world of spirits, and in such a manner, how dreadful is the prospect! the soul shrinks at the anticipation of the sad reality, and would fain draw a veil over the future condition of that spirit, thus suddenly called from existence,— "Cut off even in the blossom of his sins, No reck'ning made, but sent to his account With all his imperfections on his head." Rest! CELEBS. INSCRIPTIONS. FOR A FOUNTAIN. This little fountain runs Thus for aye;-it never stays For the look of summer suns, Nor the cold of winter days. Whosoe'er shall wander near, When the Syrian heat is worst, Lest he may not slake his thirst: And thank the great god PAN for all! non, On May 3rd, in St. Andrew's Vestryroom, we heard a very musical and soulstirring performance. It commenced with Mozart's Sinfonie, No. 1, and prepared the audience for further harmonic illustrations in the vocal skill of Mrs. Woods and Miss Hine, who sang the duet "Ah larciarmi no," with taste and feeling; and, by the way, we remark that, since we last heard Mrs. Woods at another concert, she has made rapid improvement. Purdy sang "Sisters of Acheron" very pleasingly, a song adapted well to his diapason and contra basso. Miss Hine attempted "The Bonny wee Wife," but we think the attempt a failure, not that any one present could have refused so darkly moulded a creature as the lovely wee-thing herself in the real character. In the course of the evening, three overtures diversified the performance, "Sophonisbe,' by Paër," La Clemenza di Tito," (Mozart) and "Il Don Giovanni.” Mr. Eliason led the Band with spirit; and Mr. R. Snell conducted at the piano. In every part of the overtures, Ling's Oboe when required prevailed, and assisted much in giving effect to that instrument. With " My Pretty Page," (Purdy and Miss Hine)" Cease your Funning" (with Bochsa's vars.), sung by Mrs. Woods, and accompanied by herself ;"Tell me my Heart," sung by Miss Hine, and deservedly encored, and two or three other pieces, the evening's entertainment was closed. How much harmony would be created could a concert like the "Harmonic" be established in every parish; not that discords are excluded from St. Andrew's Vestry room, but it is wholesome even to get a tithe of harmony in any place. FRIENDS AND FOES. WHAT though nor skill nor valour can defend, A picture is a poem without words.-Spectat. THE application of the above line from the Spectator, a work of standing excellence, abounding with everlasting interest, a mirror wherein every varied feeling of mankind is reflected, without exaggeration or partiality, is most happily illustrated by the paintings which now form Mr. Haydon's exhibition. We shall take them in the order they stand in his catalogue. No. 1. The Death of Eucles.-The subject is taken from Plutarch's "De Gloria Atheniensium," and the particular moment hinges on a disputed passage. But we will not enter into any disputations on that head, but simply take the story as Mr. Haydon has represented it. In the centre of the picture is Eucles, pallid, and overcome with fatigue; the number and severity of his wounds, his countenance deathly pale, his eyes scarce opened, and mouth half shut, denote strongly the bloody conflict in which he has been engaged, while his remaining strength has just enabled him to shout, 66 Hail, we triumph!" The feebleness and lassitude of limb in a dying person, is here most happily expressed. The triumphant smile, which still lights up his almost inanimate features, speak the feelings of a soldier most forcibly, and is well preserved by the painter. With dying energy he grasps the broken Persian Standard which he has brought from the field of battle, and his whole weight in falling is thrown on his right leg, of which the position of the foct has given rise to much controversy among critics and artists; but more of this anon. The whole appearance of Eucles illustrates with great truth the historical narrative of that event that he came from the battle with the news, bloody, covered with wounds, his armour, helmet, and accou⚫ trements, mutilated and destroyed, and that immediately as he had uttered, "We triumph!"-expired. Whether he did this before the house of the chief magistrate, or the first house which he came to, is a matter of conjecture and dispute; but Mr. Haydon has presumed that, after giving the news to the magistrates, he bent his way to his home and family, which circumstance is natural enough. In that light he has composed the subject, thereby leaving an opportunity of throwing more sentiment into the whole by the introduction of Eucles' wife and children, who form the right hand group of the picture. His wife is supposed to have just rushed out at hearing her husband's voice, with her infant in her arm, while her right hand is pressed to her forehead; shocked and depressed at the melancholy appearance of her husband, her eyes are fixed upon him with almost supernatural intensity, as if scarce crediting the sight before her. Below his mother is the eldest boy, with surprise and fright depicted in his countenance and attitude. In the passage behind Eucles' wife" are," as Mr. H. states in his book, "the old nurse and Eucles' aged father; the one thanking the gods his son is victorious, though dying, while the poor old woman is weeping at what she is supposed to have felt would be the truth the moment she beheld her master." The figure next in importance, and which we conceive to be the most masterly piece of drawing and painting in the whole picture, is the one in the foreground, rushing forward to catch the falling Eucles: the introduction of this figure is a most happy and successful idea of Mr. Haydon's. Direct above this is a Greek on horseback, huzzaing, and, as Mr. H. has painted him, is detrimental to the beauty and dignity of the painting, for not only has he made him a coarse, clownish-looking being, but by giving him the Pitasus, or pliable leather hat, completes his appearance of a savage country boor. Now, in a picture like this, where heroism in its most exalted state is depicted, where it is intended to rouse our sympathies with the dying warrior and the bereaved wife and children, the introduction of anything mean or vulgar is destructive to its general simplicity and sentiment. In a corner, on the left hand side, are two female figures, which, though well executed, do not add much interest to the subject. The back ground is finely filled up by grand and gorgeous structures, remains of which still exist in ancient Athens. In the centre of this line of buildings, stands foremost and aloft from all others, the Temple of Minerva, whose statue towers above other objects. Certainly this part of the painting is finely conceived, as it tends to throw an air of sublimity to the whole, so truly in accordance with all our notions of the noble style of building and ornament practised at that time, and as giving us some faint idea of the grand appearance Athens must then have presented. Having thus taken this picture as a whole, we will next minutely examine the individual parts. The manner in which Eucles is designed and executed fully bears out the historical narrative, and Haydon has not in one instance failed in the manual part of his art. With respect to the foot before referred to, we say this, though it may happen we have never seen a foot so placed in nature nor in painting, we cannot take upon ourselves to condemn it as out of drawing and unnatural, as how often does it happen, that the world pronounces judgment upon a thing merely because the like has never been seen before. There is a monstrous and wide difference between what is not natural and what is novel; in the first instance, the meanest individual can be a judge, for the most unpractised eye can sooner detect a fault than the most refined connoisseur; while, in the latter, we can easily perceive if it be natural, though under a peculiar aspect. The colouring of this figure is cool, and suitable to the action and character of Eucles; indeed, the whole painting is distinguished for its harmonious tone of colouring. The mass of light is judiciously centred in the wife of Eucles, which is brought to the middle of the picture, from the little boy below his mother, to the figure rushing forward, and finally carried out of the painting by the light in the sky behind the figure on horseback. Every part of this admirable production is excellent, and stil! higher does it add to the fame and credit of the artist. There is more of placidness, of soberness in effect, and less of overstretched exaggeration than in any of Mr. Haydon's late productions, although in this instance, we must condemn him for the gigantic dimensions of the eldest son of Eucles; though masterly painted, drawn, and coloured, yet it is exaggeral ed; it is for this blemish that so many do not like him. There is also in this performance, less of looseness in the handling and painting, and, altogether, it is one of the most finished productions of the Historical School of England; a painting, and an artist who, though his countrymen cannot, or will not acknowledge his abilities and genius, will one day be the admiration of posterity, when time shall have softened the sting of personal asperity, when dark oblivion shall have cast her mantle o'er the remembrance of the present race of puny critics and empty headed fashionables; when their names shall be forgotten, the name of Haydon, though not faultless, will be venerated and respected. But is not such fame dearly bought?-mysterious must be that invisible, that stirring excitement, which still can stimulate the ambitious, the ardent mind to continual efforts in the thorny and intricate path of fame. Fame!-that magic word, the stumbling block to many, the rock on which hundreds have perished, to gain which numerous are the beings now panting,now sacrificing health, interest, and life itself. Must there not be some celestial abode where the ambitious spirit hereafter shall rest in peace? must there not be some great reward, that the desire for fame can thus enthrall, and bind us in the magic of its web? To be continued. Notices of New Books. Cobbett's Advice to Young Men, No. 10. FONDNESS FOR MESIC. Although we confess ourselves to be lovers of music, we cannot deny being struck with the force of the following arguments in that curious book," Cobbett's Advice to Young Men." Many weak people are fond of music, but it cannot be denied that the most learned have had an ear for "sweet sounds." He for whom music has no charms is indeed an object of pity. 66 Shakspeare, who is cried up as the great interpreter of the human heart, has said, that the man in whose soul there is no music, or love of music, is fit for murders, treasons, stratagems, and spoils.' Our immortal bard, as the profligate Sheridan used to call him in public, while he laughed at him in private; our 'immortal bard' seems to have forgotten that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, were flung into the fiery furnace (made seven times hotter than usual) amidst the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, and dulcimer, and all kinds of music; he seems to have forgotten that it was a music and a dance-loving dam sel that chose, as a recompense for her elegant performance, the bloody head of John the Baptist, brought to her in a charger; he seems to have forgotten that, while Rome burned, Nero fiddled: he did not know, perhaps, that cannibals always dance and sing while their victims are roasting; but he might have known, and he must have known, that, England's greatest tyrant, Henry VIII. had, as his agent in blood, Thomas Cromwell, expressed it, his sweet soul enwrapped in the celestial sounds of music;' and this was just at the time when the ferocious tyrant was ordering Catholics and Protestants to be tied back to back on the same hurdle, dragged to Smithfield on that hurdle, and there tied to, and burnt from, the same stake. Shakspeare must have known these things, for he lived immediately after their date; and if he had lived in our day, he would have seen instances enough of sweet souls' enwrapped in the same manner, and capable, if not of deeds equally bloody, of others, discovering a total want of feeling for sufferings not unfrequently occasioned by their own wanton waste, and waste arising, too, in part, from their taste for these 'celestial sounds.' "O no! the heart of man is not to be known by this test: a great fondness for music is a mark of great weakness, great vacuity of mind: not of hardness of heart; not of vice; not of downright folly; but of a want of capacity, or inclination, for sober thought. This is not always the case accidental circumstances almost force the taste upon the people: but, generally speaking, it is a preference of sound to sense.' The Family Magazine, No. I. This is a sterling and cheap pennyworth, indeed; the most economical cannot here find fault on the score of price, and much less on that of merit. The contents of this miscellany are extremely rich and varied, they may be likened to the flowers that compose a beautiful bouquet, nearly every one is a gem that sparkles with brilliancy, and we may truly aver that there is not a single weed among them. The Family Magazine is deserving of very extensive support, and we trust that it will obtain it. The Nate Book. I will make a prief of it in my Note-book. M. W. of Windsor. ANECDOTES OF DR. JOHNSON. The following anecdotes, states a correspondent to the Gentleman's Maga zine, were obtained about twenty-five years ago from the late Bishop of Llandaff, Dr. Watson, who, it may not be improper to premise, was chosen Professor of Chemistry at Cambridge in 1764; and it appears from a letter of Dr. Sharp's written in 1765, "that it was at that period, the visit to which I am about to allude was made. "In the course of a conversation, Dr. Johnson having been named, the Bishop observed that he had never been in his company but once, when he paid a visit to Cambridge. That having been introduced to him in the laboratory, after some general discourse, Dr. Watson inquired whether it would be most agreeable to enter upon some general subjects connected with chemistry, or to see the result of experiments; and upon Dr. Johnson preferring the latter, he was asked if there was any one in particular that he would wish to have performed; when Dr. Johnson replied, I have been told that there are two cold fluids which, when mixed, will take fire; I do not credit it.' But,' replied Dr. Watson, I will soon give you ocular demonstration of the possibility of the fact.' Upon which he called to his experimental assistant (Mr. Hoffman) to procure two crucibles, and fix them to the ends of two pretty long rods, and having put into one of them rectified spirit of turpentine, and into the other concentrated vitriolic acid, with due proportion of the nitric, they were held out of the window of the laboratory, and then mixed; when the flame which immediately ensued was such, as to induce Dr. Johnson to be thankful that the explosion was on the outside of the window. "In the evening, a party consisting of the heads of colleges, &c. met to enjoy his company, and entertain him (in, I believe, the library of Trinity College); when he left the table in quest of a book, which he took up, and appeared to be deeply engaged with. In the mean time, the conversation turned upon assigning the reason that country gentlemen were so fond of field diversions, which having reached Dr. Johnson's ears, he closed his book, and called out, I will tell you the reason; it is because they feel the vacuity of their minds less when they are in motion than at rest." " FEROCITY OF AN ALLIGATOR. On Tuesday, an officer of a ship, in pulling up the creek (Diamond Harbour), was witness to a most extraordinary proof of the ferocity of an alligator. A bullock was grazing near the bank of the nullah, when suddenly a large alli gator darted out of the creek, seized it, dragged it into the water, and carried it down. In about a minute, the paunch of the poor animal was floating upon the surface. The alligator appeared to be twenty-five or thirty feet long. Beng. Chron. Sept. 5. SIR WILLIAM DICK OF BRAID. By Sir Walter Scott. This gentleman formed a striking example of the instability of human prosperity. He was once the wealthiest man of his time in Scotland, a merchant in an extensive line of commerce, and a farmer of the public revenue; insomuch that, about 1610, he estimated his fortune at 200,0001. sterling. Sir William Dick was a zealous Covenanter; and in the memorable year 1641, he lent the Scottish Convention of Estates 100,000 merks at once, and thereby enabled them to support and pay their army, which must otherwise have broken to pieces. He afterwards advanced 20,0001. for the service of King Charles, during the usurpation; having, by owning the royal cause, provoked the displeasure of the ruling party, he was fleeced of more money, amounting in all to 65,0001. sterling. and Being in this manner reduced to indigence, he went to London to try to recover some part of the sums which had been lent on government security. Instead of receiving any satisfaction, the Scottish Croesus was thrown into prison, in which he died, 19th December, 1655. It is said his death was hastened by the want of cominon necessaries. But this statement is somewhat exaggerated, if it be true, as is commonly said, that though he was not supplied with bread, he had plenty of piecrust, thence called" Sir William Dick's necessity." The changes of fortune are commemorated in a folio pamphlet entitled, "The lamentable state of the deceased Sir William Dick." It contains several copperplates, one representing Sir William on horseback, and attended with guards as Lord Provost of Edinburgh, superintending the unloading of one of his rich argosies. A second exhibiting him as arrested, and in the hands of the bailiffs. A third presents him dead in prison. The tract is esteemed highly valuable by collectors of prints; the only copy I ever saw upon sale, was rated at 30'. Notes to the Heart of Mid-Lothian, THE FAIRY BOY OF LEITH. About fifteen years since, (1684), having business that detained me in Leith, which is near Edinborough, in the kingdom of Scotland, I often met some of my |