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Goethe, the German poet, observes as follows in a late work, part of which is translated in Baldwin's London Magazine:"The tragedy of Manfred, by Lord Byron, is a most singular performance, and one which concerns me nearly. This wonderful and ingenious poet has taken possession of my Faust, and hypocondriacally drawn from it the most singular nutriment. He has employed the means in it which suit his object in his particular manner, so that no one thing remains the same, and on this account 1 cannot sufficiently admire his ability. The recast is so peculiar, that a highly interesting lecture might be given on its resemblance and want of resemblance, to its model, though I cannot deny that the gloomy fervor of a rich and endless despair becomes at last wearisome to us. However, the displeasure which we feel is always

connected with admiration and esteem.

"The very quintessence of the sentiments and passions, which assist in constitututing the most singular talent for self-commentary ever known, is contained in this tragedy. The life and poetical character of Lord Byron can hardly be fairly estimated. Yet he has often enough avowed the source of his torments; he has repeatedly pourtrayed it; but hardly any one sympathizes with the insupportable pain with which he is incessantly struggling.

"Properly speaking, he is continually pursued by the ghosts of two females, who play great parts in the above-named tragedy, the one under the name of Astarte, the other without figure or visibility, merely a

voice.

"The following account is given of the horrible ad"When a young, bold, and highly attractive personage, he gained the favour of a Florentine lady; the husband discovered this, and murdered his wife; but the murderer was found dead in the street the same night, under circumstances which did not admit of attaching Euspicion to any one.'

venture which he had with the former :

Lord B. fled from Florence, and seems to drag spectres after him ever afterwards

This strange incident receives a high degree of probability from innumerable allusions in his poems; as for instance, in his application of the story of Pausanius to himself.

"What a wounded heart must the poet have, who selects from antiquity such an event, applies it to himself, and loads his tragic resemblance with it!"

Baldwin's Magazine peremptorily denies the truth of these stories of the noble poet, and observes he never was in Florence in his youth.

LOCKE'S EXTRAORDINARY PARROT.

“I had a mind to know, (says Locke in his Essay on the Human Understanding,) from Prince Maurice's own mouth, the account of a common, but much credited story, that I had heard so often from many others, of an old parrot he had in Brazil, during his government there, that spoke and asked, and answered common questions like a reasonable creature; so that those of his train there, generally concluded it to be witchery, or possession; and one of his chaplains, who lived long afterwards in Holland, could never from that time endure a parrot, but said they all had a devil in them.

I had heard many particulars of this story, and asserted by people hard to be discredited, which made me ask prince Maurice what there was of it. He said, with his usual plaiuness and dryness of talk, there was something true, but a great deal false, of what had been reported. I desired to know of him what there was of the first.

He told me short and coldly, that he had heard of such an old parrot, when he came to Brazil; and though be believed nothing of it, and it was a good way off, yet he had so much curiosity as to send for it, and that it was a very great and old one; and when it first came into the room where the Prince was, with a great many Dutchmen about him, it said presently, "What a company of white men are

here!"

he asked it, "Whence came you?" It answered, | Mam and Setaram, two of their saints. During
"from Marinnau."-The Prince" to whom did this cermony, the women were tearing their hair,
you belong?" The Parrot "to a Portuguese." beating their breasts, and roaring in a most horrible
Prince "what do you do there?" Parrot an- manner. The four relations at last let go their hold
swered-" I look after the chickens." The Prince of the old man, who immediately threw himself into
laughed and said, "you look after the chickens?" the pit, and not a groan was heard from him. The
Parrot auswered—“ yes, I; and I know well enough by-standers had each a spade in his hand, and im-
how to do it:" and made the chuck, four or five mediately began to fill up the pit with earth; so that
times, that people use to make to chickens when the old man might be said to be burnt and buried
they call them.
alive. Two of his children were present, one seven,
the other eight years old; and they alone of all the
spectators appeared to be affected. As to the wo-
men, they returned home with the greatest sang
froid. Such an event being an object of glory to
the relations, the day on which a wretched victim
to superstition is thus self-devoted, is a day of
triumph to his whole family."

I asked him in what language the parrot spoke, and he said in Brazilian. I asked him whether he understood the Brazilian? He said, no; but he had taken care to have two interpreters by him, the one a Dutchman, that spoke Brazilian, and the other a Brazilian that spoke Dutch; that he asked them separately and privately, and both of them agreed in telling him just the same thing that the parrot said.

I could not but tell this odd story, because it is so much out of the way, and from the first hand, and what may pass for a good one. For I dare say this Prince, at least, believed himself in all he told me, 4 having ever passed for a very honest and pious man.

I leave it to naturalists to reason, and other men to believe as they please upon it; however, it is not perhaps amiss to relieve or enliven a busy scene sometimes with such digressions, whether to the purpose or no."

MAD DOGS.

present and certain Care for the Bite of a mad Dog's from Dr. Awsiter's Thoughts on Brightclmston. Take sea-salt, or common kitchen-salt, dissolve it in fresh, warm, human urine; load the urine with as much salt as it can dissolve; with this liquor cleanse the wound and limb of whatever saliva may stick to it, fill the wound with salt, wet a double rag in the prepared liquor, This account Mr. Locke has introduced into his and bind it on the part; as it dries, wet it with fresh Chapter of Identity, and by employing it in illus-prepared liquor, fill it with fresh salt, apply the wetted liquor; in six hours open and wash the wound with the tration of a deep argumentative subject, it is pro-rag, and proceed as before; in twelve hours the virus of bable he credited the whole himself, or at least the bite will be subdued:' after this, keep the wound thought it an event not unworthy of philosophical clean by washing it night and morning with a cloth dipattention. The account is taken by Mr. Locke ped in the prepared salt liquor, till it is heated; let the from a work of Sir William Temple, an author of party take as much sea-water, for three mornings successively, as will purge; and after each purging, at bed great veracity and information. time, an opiate of mithridate dissolved in penny-royal water. The use of the sea-water is to empty the body, and the use of the opiate to calm the spirits, which are generally much agitated and depressed on these occasions. Let the patient bitten be kept quiet, let him not live low, but moderately indulge himself in wine. This regimen need only be pursued till the wound is healed; "but if the wound is large, or when there are more than one, the party may take a draught of sea water daily, for a short time.

SELF IMMOLATION.

Our readers have frequently heard of the inhuman superstition which, in India, obliges the female to sacrifice herself with the dead body of her husband. The following narrative discloses another species of infatuation, in the instance of one member of a family sacrificing himself in order to recover the others from sickness, by appeasing the superior powers by that species of offering. The letter from which we extract is dated Calcutta, 1787. Edit. Kal.

"I have lately been an eye witness of a most melancholy transaction, the sad consequence of the ignorance and superstition that reign in Indostau. I saw an aged man throw himself into a pit ten feet deep, and half full of combustibles, which had been set on fire. This mau had made himself a voluntary victim to preserve, as he thought, the lives of his children, who were at the time attacked by a daagerous and epidemical distemper.

"When this distemper breaks out among the Hindoos, they believe most religiously that one of them must die to save the rest. This poor old man was thoroughly persuaded that the lives of his children could not be preserved if he did not offer himself up as a sacrifice for them. I used every argument with himself, his wife, his brothers, and his sisters, to convince him and them of the absurdity of such an opinion, and the guilt of suicide; but in vain: they were deaf to my reasons; and thinking at last that I intended to prevent by force this horrible sacrifice, they threw themselves at my feet, and begged, with tears in their eyes, that I would not oppose the resolution of the old man!

"The self-devoted victim being seated on the brink of the pit, raised his hands to Heaven, and prayed with great fervour. After he had remained They asked it what it thought that man was, half an hour in that posture, four of his nearest repointing at the Prince. It answered, "some Gene-lations helped him on his legs, and walked with him ral or other." When they brought it close to him, five times round the pit, all of them calling upon

The ratio of the cure consists in the action of the salt upon the malign virus of the wound, before it can make any progress to infect the circulation. The salt, by being dissolved in urine, becomes more active, and is particularly assimilated to penetrate into any part of the body to which it is applied. The success of the application depends much on the immediate time; the omis sion of it for twenty-four hours might render this remedy precarious, and, perhaps, of no effect. As the poison at first is local, this application to the part affected immediately destroys all danger. The purging, therefore, with sea-water, the opiate at night, and the regimen prescribed, are only cautionary aids, co-operating with the topical application.

Extraordinary Fish.-A carp, weighing 19lbs. was lately taken out of the fish-pond of John Spearman, of Oxon, Esq. near Shrewsbury. The roe was of such a magnitude, that the fish inverted in the water, and it swam with its back downward; its belly appearing above the surface caused this extraordinary inhabitant to be noticed.

An enormously large eel, not of the congor species, was taken by some gentlemen a few days ago, in a creek near the sea, at Fordyke, in Lincolnshire, belonging to Mr. Birkits, which measured two yards and one inch in length, and weighed thirty-six pounds!

Anecdote of Muley Ismael.-Muley Ismael compared "If you let them his subjects to a bag full of rats. rest," said the warrior," they will gnaw a hole in it: keep them moving, and no evil will happen." So his subjects, if kept continually occupied, the government went on well; but if left quiet, seditions would quickly arise. This sultan was always in the tented field: he would say, that he should not return to his palace until the tents were rotten. He kept his army incessantly oc cupied in making plantations of olives, or in building: rest and rebellion were with him synonymous terms,

TO THE EDITORS.

tenderness, gradually brought along by the current of paternal love. Indeed, throughout, his exertions As I think I have perceived a disposition, on the part were splendidly effective, and though the tragedy of some of the Liverpool critics, to undervalue the pro-lieved that it derived its greatest claims to the thunwas generally well supported, it will easily be befessional talents of Mr. Young, and as I am amongst ders of applause with which it was received, to the the number of that gentleman's admirers, I hope you talents of Mr. Young. At the conclusion, the shouts will do him the justice, and me the favour, to insert of approbation were incessant, so much so, as to inthe following extract from a recent Edinburgh journal, duce the Manager to withdraw the tragedy of King in order to show how the talents of my friend are appre- Lear, intended for representation this evening, and ciated in the northern emporium of science, literature, announce the repetition of Virginius. and criticism. Yours, &c.

VIRGINIUS.

On Saturday evening, a tragedy was produced, for the first time here, called Virginius, or the Liberafion of Rome. This play was originally produced at Glasgow, the residence of the author, a Mr. Sheridan Knowles, where it was attended with complete success, but little profit; since then, however, it has been transplanted to Covent-garden, and we are happy to understand that a more genial soil has yielded to the author, not only laurels, but more substantial benefit.

The tragedy was produced here for the purpose of Mr. YOUNG appearing for the first time in the character of Virginius. Our limits will not permit us to enter into a detail of the plot: The circumstance of Virginius sacrificing, with his own hand, his only daughter Virginia, in order that she may not be a victim to the rapacious lust of the Decemvir Appius Claudius, is known to every schoolboy. The story opens at the point of time when Appius has been re-elected to office, and closes with his destruction by the grasp of Virginius.

The merits of Virginius consist in the plot, which is simple in the extreme; the incidents, however, possessing the most intimate connexion and dependeuce on each other, and every event contributing something to the progress of the fable, and the working out of the catastrophe. In short, it possesses more dramatic merits than any tragedy we have seen performed for several years, without containing much, if any, poetic power. The genius of the author consists in telling the story under a dramatic form, and in reaching the hearts of the audience by the simplicity of his appeals, and therefore depending upon human sympathy; never attempting to dazzle the imagination by the splendour of his imagery, or to overwhelm the soul by any extra bursts of pathos or imagination. He is invariably alive to the situation of his personages, but never attempts to aggravate their real distress in the minds of the audience by the eloquence of his poetry, but frequently diminishes the natural effect by communicating the most obvious sentiments and topics in language, not only the most familiar, but very frequently tainted with vulgarity.

The Virginius of Mr. Young was in every scene perfection. In the first act we find him at homethe happy doating father, enjoying contentment and repose in the society of his only daughter; and if any thing could exceed the nervous and energetic manner in which he concluded the third act, when he departs to the rescue of his child, it is the manner in which he appeared before the Decemvir. We do not remember any scene, of late years, where a more powerful effect has been produced. The pathos with which be delivered

"I never saw you look so like your mother
In all your life,"

when the story of the birth of Virginia is questioned, elicited tears of heartfelt compassion.

commencing

"Let the Forum wait for us,"

and concluding,

In the speech

"I shall be mute-my eloquence is hereHer tears, her youth, her innocence, her beauty," &c. Mr. Young united a dignity that seemed to swell from the inmost recesses of his soul with a soothing

EXTRAORDINARY SWIMMING.

TO THE EDITOR. SIR,-In consequence of a hint in the second number of the Kaleidoscope, I send you the following statement of facts.-Yours, &c. JOHN SIMPSON.

late John Casson, of this town) after being wrecked on About the year 1770, Henry Casson, (father of the Rock Donda, swam, together with Robert Moon, to the island of Neves. Two others at the same time set off to swim to Mountserat, but were never more heard of.

In the year 1786 or 7, the late Captain Wilson (who was unfortunately lost near Lytham, in August last) going to the West Indies in the sloop Reynolds, Capt. Bradley, they lost a spar overboard, and the Captain, willing to save it, ordered the boat out, when Wilson swam in the Bay of Biscay for four hours, till the sloop and another man were swamped in the boat. They both could make a tack far enough to windward to bear down upon them; while picking up Wilson, they lost sight of the other man, who perished.

In the year 1796, during the government of Victor Hughes, in Guadaloupe, the island of Martinique was infested with small privateers, when the merchants and underwriters fitted out a vessel for a guarda costa, and teered their services in her, amongst whom were William several seamen belonging to the merchant ships volunMathews, and Daniel Lawson; being on a cruise to windward of the island about 9 or 10 miles, sudden as a flash of lightning, the vessel split and left every one to shift for themselves; after collecting a few oars, &c. and lashing them together, to try to save two or three of their comrades, these two swam to the island, and were the only two who were saved.

To Correspondents.

the present is only the third number. In this anticipation, and to prevent disappointment either to our friends or ourselves, we have printed an extra quantity of the two first numbers, to meet the after-sale, as well as for the American market, which we have been strongly advised to try, with the most confident assurances of ultimate success. They who have incomplete files of our first and second volume, which they do not intend to have bound up for their own use, are informed, that we shall very soon issue an advertisement offering to exchange new for old numbers, or containing the terms upon which we will become purchasers of such as we stand in need of, for the completion of our own sets.

The story of LUCINDA, from the "Columbiad," shall be inserted in an early number of the Kaleidoscope, if our compositors can decypher the transcriber's hand-writing, which, in some parts, bears no small resemblance to the Egyptian hierogliphic character. The narrative of N. P. appeared some months since in the newspapers, when we declined its insertion, because the circumstances were too horrible and incredible. No good can arise from such disgusting and improbable details.

THE TRIP TO BIRKENHEAD shall be perused previ ously to our next. Whether suitable or not to the plan of our work, it arrived too late for a place this week.

BOMBASTES FURIOSO!-The FRIEND, from whose

it.

MS. we have transcribed the whole of this favourite piece, is of opinion, that it has never previously ap peared in any English journal or separate work, although he believes there has been an Irish edition of We have consulted several other gentlemen likely to know something on the subject, who are all of the same opinion as to its never having before appeared entire in any English work. It arises from a reliance on these concurrent opinions, rather than our own knowledge, that we have stated this presumed fact in the few lines with which we have prefaced the work in our first column. We have heard, indeed, that a considerable part of Bombastes did appear, some years ago, in Mr, Billinge's Monday's paper; and, whether this report be true or not, we trust we shall stand acquitted of any intention to mislead our readers, by stating our own belief, and that of our correspondent, that the whole of the text has never until now issued from the English press.

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SWIMMING. We have inserted Mr. SIMPSON's letter verbatim, as we received it; but must observe that much of what he has stated, appears to rest upon hearsay; and that the writer has omitted to state the distances from place to place..

G. N. will himself think that the interest of his communication has gone by. Owing to the intervention of the Sunday (a day upon which it is not our custom to require our printers to work) no letter has much chance of appearing in the first publication, unless it reach us by Friday at furthest, unless it be very short.

Does J. P. alias A CONSTANT PURCHASER, really wish us to say what we think of his poetical effusions? J. H. must know that the plan of our work would not admit of any allusion to the subject recommended; if it were otherwise, our own taste would incline us to avoid any subject unfitted for perusal in the most select and scrupulous female society.

New SERIES OF THE KALEIDOSCOPE. We thank our friends and numerous correspondents, for the satisfaction they have expressed in the change we have made in the form of our work, and for the interest so generally expressed in its behalf. We beg to urge to all those who feel similarly interested in the successful establishment of the Kaleidoscope, that they have it in their power to do much towards the accomplishment of that end, by simply recommending it to their friends; and we choose this particular time to intrude the suggestion, because we are now commencing the new series, which may be considered as an entirely new work. We have reason to believe, judging from former experience, that the early numbers of this new series, like those of the old, will become scarce, or entirely exhausted, at no very distant period of time; although we have done all in our power to prevent a recurrence of the inconvenience we have experienced for the want of particular numbers of the first and second volumes of the old series of the Kaleidoscope. If any of our readers fancy they discover any thing of affectation or puffing on this occasion, we beg to assure them that nothing is more remote from our intention. The simple fact is, that we reserve a certain number of each publication as a speculation, independent of the expected present sale. This precaution has always been taken with our former numbers, with a view of enabling us at the expiration of our volumes, and the completion of the index, to bring into the market a stock of complete bound volumes, to meet that AFTER-SALE, by which the Kaleidoscope is perhaps more distinguished than the generality of ephemeral publications. Our motive, in so strongly urging this point, is to induce those who may be waof the work, to commence with the volume, of which |‚ ̄ vering, and who may ultimately become purchasers

CAPTAIN PARSONS' JOURNAL.-The continuance of this officer's narrative is postponed to our next. The lines of JUVENIS which were mislaid, shall be attended to.

The favour of a SUBSCRIBER shall also be attended to.

Printed, published, and sold

BY EGERTON SMITH AND CO. Liverpool Mercury Office. Sold also by John Bywater and Co. Pool-lane; Messrs. Evans, Chegwin and Hall, Castle-street; Mr. Thos. Smith, Paradise-street; Mr. Warbrick, Public Library, Lime-street; Mr. G. P. Day, Newsman, for ready money only. Dale-street; and Mr. John Smith, St. James's-road,

ᎾᎡ,

Literary and Scientific Mirror.

No. 4.-NEW SERIES.

Scientific Notices.

INTERESTING FACTS CONCERNING
RESPIRATION,

[ORIGINAL.}

"UTILE DULCI.”

TUESDAY, JULY 25, 1820.

must surely, therefore, be of the first importance to
health, that the fluid of which we hourly inhale at
least three hogsheads, should not be contaminated
by the suspension of noxious effluvia.

PRICE 3 d.

respired, in a diluted state, the ill effects which they produce, though slower in their operation, are equally certain. They to a certain extent pollute the fountain of life, and ultimately break down The purity of the atmosphere may be impaired the vigour of the most robust frame; imparing the either by the operation of what some would denomi- action of the digestive organs, engendering the nate natural causes, or by the influence of circum-whole train of nervous disorders, and rendering the stances résulting from our social condition. Its body more susceptible of disease. chemical constitution is changed by respiration; the vital principle is destroyed, and its place supplied by a highly poisonous gas.

The emanations from the surface of our bodies, contribute, in a still greater degree, to vitiate the atmosphere, and to render it less fit for the healthful Many of the organs which compose our wonderfully complicated frame are engaged in discharging the constituent parts of our bodies, which by the exercise of the various animal funcțions are become useless, and, if retained, would be

The lungs and the skin may equally become the means of introducing poisonous or infectious matter into the constitution. The venom of a poisonous animal, the matter of small-pox, and many other contagions, produce their influence through the medium of the skin. Infectious diseases are communicated by the reception of air in our lungs impregnated with contagious matter. The influence of the constapt respiration of air in any degree impure, is fully evinced in the pallid countenances and languid frames of those who live in confined and ill-venti

Anatomists have, not unaptly, compared the lungs to a sponge, containing like it a great number of small cavities, and being also capable of considerable compression and expansion. The air cells of the langs open into the windpipe, by which they communicate wịth the external atmosphere: the whole internal structure of the lungs is lined by a transpa-support of life. rent membrane, estimated by Haller at only the thousandth part of an inch in thickness, but whose surface, from its various convolutions, measures 15 square feet, which is equal to the external surface of the body. On this extensive and thin membrane | come noxious. Physiologists have instituted a va-lated places; and the health of all classes of society innumerable branches of veins and arteries are dis-riety of experiments to ascertain the amount of the tributed, some of them finer than hairs; and through exhalations from the surface of the body. Sanctorius, these vessels all the blood in the system is succes- an eminent Italian physician, from a series of expesively propelled, by an extremely curious and beau-riments performed daring a period of thirty years, tiful mechanism, which will be described in some future article.

estimates it as greater than the aggregate of all our other discharges. From bis calculations it would The capacity of the lungs varies considerably in appear, that if we take of liquid and solid food eight different individuals.** On a general average, they pounds in the twenty-four hours, that five pounds may be said to contain about 280 cubic inches, or are discharged by perspiration alone, within that nearly five quarts of air. By each inspiration about period: and of this, the greater part is, what has forty cubic inches of air are received into the lungs, been denominated, insensible perspiration, from its and at each expiration the same quantity is dis- not being cognizable to the senses. We inay esticharged. If, therefore, we calculate that twenty mate the discharge from the surface of the body by respirations take place in a minute, and forty cubic sensible and insensible perspiration, as from half an inches to be the amount of each inspiration, it fol-ounce to four ounces per hour. lows that in one minute we inhale 800 cubic inches; The exhalations from the lungs and the skin in an hour the quantity of air inspired will be 48,000 cubic inches; and in the twenty-four hours, it will amount to 1,152,000 cubic inches. This quantity of air would almost fill 78 wine hogsheads, and would weigh nearly 53 lbs. From this admirable provision of nature, by which the blood is made to pass in review, as it were, of this immense quantity of air, and over so extensive a surface, it seems obvious, that these two fluids are destined to exert some very important influence on each other; and it has been proved, by a very decisive experiment of Dr. Priestly's, that the extremely thin membrane, which is alone interposed, does not prevent the exErcise of the chemical affinity which prevails between The collection of animal effluvia in confined the air which is received in the lungs, and the blood places, is the source of the generation and diffusion which is incessantly circulating through them. It of febrile infection: but when the miasinata are

are, to a certain extent, offensive even in the
most healthy individuals; but when proceeding
from those labouring under disease, they are in
a state very little removed from putrefaction.
Animal miasmata, like all other poisons, become
more active in proportion to the quantity which we
imbibe. When, therefore, the air is stagnant, and
when many individuals contribute their respective
supplies of effluvia to vitiate it, the atmosphere neces.
sarily becomes satured with the poison; and when
inhaled, co ys it in a more virulent and concen-
trated state to the extensive and delicate surface of
the lungs.

suffers precisely in proportion to the susceptibility of their constitutions, and according to the greater or less impurities of the air which they habitually respire.

Of the offensive nature of animal effluvia, the senses of every one who enters a crowded assembly, must immediately convince him. When, therefore, we reflect on the state of the air which we breathe in churches, theatres, schools, and all crowded assemblies; and when we consider the amount of the exhalations emitted by each individual, and the very offensive nature of those emitted by many; and when on the other hand, we take into consideration the importance of air to life, and the great quantity of this fluid which we daily respire, we must be naturally led to the adoption of such measures as would secure in our private dwellings, as well as in our public buildings, a full and unintermitting supply of fresh atmospheric air.

It is curious to observe the influence of habit, in reconciling us to many practices which would otherwise be considered in the highest degree offensive. Thus, while, with a fastidious delicacy, we avoid drinking from a cup which has been already pressed to the lips of our friends: we feel no hesitation in receiving into our lungs an atmosphere contaminated by the breath and exhalations of every promiscuous assembly.

* An instrument, called the Pulmometer, has been invented, which enables us to measure the capacity of the lungs, and which may communicate information to the physician, of some importance, in diseases of this organ.

The Gleaner.

"I am but a gatherer and disposer of other men's stuff." WOTTON.

THE

HISTORY OF MADAME KRUDENER.

(From the 7th Number of the London Magazine.)

With all the varieties of faith and practice which daily experience offers to our observation, we certainly should not have ventured to express any astouishment if Madame Krudener had merely made a crowd of cominon converts to her system of religious mysticism; for her manners, as appears from her history, are fascinating, her talents considerable, and her doctrines of a prepossessing cast. Her language carries with it evidence of good company and extensive information; her birth is respect. able, and the pleasures and gaieties of French society before the revolution, with which she was intimate, have left tints of vivacity in her disposition, that enliven the sombre hue of her devotional declarations. In all these respects she has the advantage of Joanna Southcote, our late English prophetess, who was fat, vulgar, and illiterate; and therefore not nearly Krudener's power of producing an impression on the hearts of people by her person, and manners, seems to have been, of itself, sufficient to create an enthusiastic feeling in her favour, independently altogether of her tenets. On her arrival in the Canton of Solothurn, the editor of the "Swiss Guide," thus broke forth at the top of his voice :

so well calculated to make converts. Madame

formed the basis of all her recommendations to the She argues, in one of her letters, that she is entitled
allied monarchs in 1814.
to attention as a teacher of divinity, inasmuch as
Madame Krudener, we learn,' was born at Riga," I have been accustomed for years to see men of all
about the year 1766. Her father was Baron Vic-classes discovering to me the deepest folds of their
tinghoff, a man of family, wealth, and taste. Her hearts." Again,
brother, the present baron, has distinguished him-
self by his enterprising spirit as a traveller, and has
drawn up interesting narratives of his journeys in
the East. When she was about nine years old, her
father took her to Paris, where his house became
one of the most favourite rendezvous of the wits
and scholars of the time. Buffon, Marmontel,
d'Alembert, frequented the baron's evening parties,
and the little Juliana was in high favour with these
celebrated persons, for she was already distinguished
by an extraordinary degree of sagacious quickness,
mingled with her constitutional vivacity and sensi-
bility.

"It was necessary that a woman should appear, who had been educated, and who had dwelt, in the abodes of vanity and luxury, yet who could say to the poor that she felt happier to serve them, seated on a wooden bench, than to partake of the commen enjoyments of wealth: a woman, too, who had sio ned, and who, humbled by her transgressions, might take her stand patiently, and courageously, and per severingly, at the foot of the cross, like Mary Mag delene, who could despise nobody, and who might sympathise with sinners like herself, who had been deceived, and who had fallen before the vanities of the world, and the temptations of the flesh. A woman was wanted who had been taught the deepest mys. teries by love alone; a courageous woman, who, having been possessed of almost every thing desira ble on earth, might be able to tell, even to Kings, that "all is vanity," and to hurl from their thrones the false gods of the vain and pompous saloons!"

"A lovely shape, tender expression of features, a cheerful yet thinking mind, an understanding formed by manifold knowledge, a proficiency in the accomplishments of her sex and station, made her, in her, in her fourteenth year, a fascinating creature: the charm of her manner was the greater because her heart was conversant only with pure sensations. At Paris, to which capital Madame Krudener soun Her eye was a mirror, in which her soul might be went, it was still worse than at Riga. "Connections seen; and its serenity produced a frankness of tem- formed rapidly, were, in succession, as rapidly dis per which gave to her carriage a beautiful appear- solved." She was driven from her father's home by ance of ease. She approached every one with confi-secret uneasiness, and a desire to bush or drown dence and pleasure: she suspected no one, because that voice of conscience which was perpetually she knew nothing of evil. It was about this time reminding her of her happy, because iunocent, that the Baron Krudener solicited her hand, which youthful life. An increasing inward perturbation, soon after she bestowed." however, still accompanied her, and she was plunged The Baron, soon after his marriage, went as am- in a thousand new perplexities by her misconduct. bassador from his government (Russia) to Venice, We are only told concisely by her biographer, that taking his wife with him. Her feelings on touching" she suffered many misfortunes at Paris," which at the land where classic fame, and the romantic spirit length occasioned her return to Germany; and, in of the middle ages, unite the interest proper to each the year 1798, she lived at Leipsic with a Frenchwith the suggestions excited by the throne of religion man who had followed her from his own country. "Madame Krudener now forms our reiguing and the triumphs of art, are forcibly expressed in After this, she went, for a short time, to Russia; constellation, and she eclipses all the fixed stars and her Novel called "Valerie," which she wrote at and in 1801 returned again to Paris. planets of our terrestrial world. Her appearance Paris in 1802, with a view to effect, by its means, "a amongst us is delightful, if it were only for affording to us, in the midst of our narrow and constrain-complete change of morals in the French fashionable ed existence, a specimen, an image, for once, of noble, elegant, and liberal life. She is followed like St. John in the Desert: but it is no wonder that she is so, for she feeds, at once, the minds, hearts, and

stomachs of all who come."

A lady, thus richly accomplished, and liberally conducting herself, was not, as the editor says, likely

to preach to thin congregations, or to deaf ears; but that a female should, on the strength of some eloquently expressed dreams of a religious cast, (in volving pretensions to inspired prophecy, yet never inconsistent with the utmost purity of sentiment,)

arrest the attention of monarchs in the hour of

victory, and sway their councils afterwards, is surely a remarkable fact; happening, as it did, in the year 1814 of the Christian era. The truth, however, we believe to be, that the successes of the allied arms, in that year had rendered several of the crowned heads of Europe tétes exaltées, in the proper acceptation of the French phrase. They were in a triumphal fever, a delirium of joy, and human nature in its happiness, as well as in its misery, is prone to connect itself immediately with heaven.

world.".

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Of this Novel we are sorry to he obliged to state,
that, when it was composed, Madame Krudener had
but too much reason to say with Falstaff, "Nów
am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than
her biographer,-
one of the wicked." At Paris, at this time, observes

"She frequented the most splendid circles, re-
ceived the first-rate scholars and poets at her house,
and followed all the fashions and amusements of the
world." The singer, Garat, a wild and thoughtless
young man, is said to have been her favourite.

We wish the youth of Madame Krudener had been placed more towards the present time; we should have liked her to have met Lord Byron at Venice: to have encountered him at the amiable Countess Bensone's, a lady at whose palace is held the most agreeable and respectable conversazione of that city. La Comtesse would have delighted to have brought together, under her elegant and hospitable roof, two such remarkable persons as the Poet and the Mystic, and to have watched the influence on each other of such highly gifted and very sensitive minds. Madame Krudener arrived at Venice with her husband, but she left it alone. "She did not," says her biographer, " find in ber alliance that satisfaction which her ardent mind expected and demanded; so that her domestic concerus became embroiled, and a separation from her husband at length took place."

It was at this critical moment that Madame Krudener is understood to have made a decided impression on the hearts of the monarchs; and more particularly on that of Alexander, by the fervour and apparent inspiration of her devotional appeals: appeals which she adapted, with great ability, to the circumstances in which were placed, at the moment, those whom she was most anxious to gain. The at- In 1791, Madame Krudener returned from Italy, tention paid to this lady's benevolent and religious a separated wife, to the house of her parents in exhortations, some have traced to an interest of Riga, and with them she lived for some time. All another nature, which she had excited in the bosom who knew her at this period, agree in declaring, that of one prince, at least, at an earlier period, when the fascination of her person and manners was ir the enthusiasm and natural tenderness of her dispo-resistible! but, alas, we learn from her biographer, sition manifested themselves, with not less ardour, that now "her lively disposition, susceptible heart, in a more common direction. Be that as it may, no and exposed state, operated upon by the seducing one doubts that "peace and good-will to man" charms of fashionable life, drew her into errors."

Here she now seems to have lived in a very gay and splendid style. This was the era of her connec tion with Garat, the singer, already alluded to, and of the composition of her favourite novel, Valerie.

The quickness and ardour of her emotions remain. ed, but novelty was exhausted, and hope could pro mise nothing more in life worth living for This is the state of mind in which men and women are tempted to exclaim, "all is vanity," and to turn suddenly, for refuge from themselves, either to religion or philosophy. Madame Krudener chose the former, and became the philanthropical prophetess. Her henevolence was her own: fanaticism was, probably, only the result of unfortunate circumstances.

It was during this period that she was taken notice of by the Queen of Prussia. "In 1812," says Madame de Chezy, "I found the woman, whom I had in 1802 left at Paris, engaged in intrigues and ani. mated by literary ambition,—at Carlsrhue, clad in a plain black great coat, her hair cut close to her head, surrounded wherever she went by the filled with an earnest, though then still moderate zeal for the word of God."

poor,

and

At Carlsrhue, Madame Krudener became ac quainted with Mr. Jung-Stilling; and from his conversation imbibed his notions regarding the mille nium, and some other occult matters, on which his ideas were peculiar.

In the autumn of the famous year 1814, she again went to Paris. Here she had formerly been an object of fashionable notoriety for her literary parties, and the gaiety and splendour of her receptions: now she became equally so for her prayer-meetings. The newspapers stated, that she inhabited a large house, where she received her disciples; that, through four or five empty rooms, which were not even lit up at night, the way led to the sanctuary in which the new priestess lay extended on a sofa; a few rush bottomed chairs for the visitors forming the only furniture besides. fluence she had now acquired, that the allied So

But such was the in

vereigns, or, at least, one of them, and he not the INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF THE | much admired as a very ingenious edifice, least distinguished of their number, became a lis EDYSTONE LIGHTHOUSE. teuer to her exhortations and announcements. "It is confidently affirmed," observes her biographer,

and Winstanley certainly deserved the credit of being the first projector of a very

"that the foundation of that celebrated Alliance, (From Gilpin's Western Part of England, p.220.) difficult work. He had fixed it to the rock which, under the denomination of holy, has, and is still to have, a most important operation on the des tinies of Europe; and which few or none, except those with whom it originated, can pretend to comprehend, was at this time laid at her prayer-meetings."

At this time she put forth one of the most singular of her productions, a description of the religious festival, celebrated in the plains of Chalons by the Russian troops, with their Emperor at their head._("Le Camp de Vertus, a Paris, chez le Nor mant.")

When Madame Krudener arrived, in the autumn of 1815, at Basil, she soon collected a crowd of people about her; and her discourses were now full of all the raptures of prophecy and poesy. The general spirit of her system seems to be the regeneration of Society, by infusing more happiness into the condition of the lower orders, and removing all vestiges of oppression and selfishness from amongst

the bigher.

The following account of Madame Krudener's proceedings at Basil, is given by her biographer, and will we think, be read with interest :

by twelve massy bars of iron, which were Among the curiosities of this coast, the let down deep into the body of the stone. Edystone light-house is not one of the least. It was generally indeed thought well foundAbout three leagues beyond Plymouth-ed; and the architect himself was so consound, in a line nearly between Start-point vinced of its stability, that he would often and the Lizard, lie a number of low rocks, say, that he wished for nothing more than exceedingly dangerous at all times, but to be shut up in it during a violent storm. especially when the tides are high, which He at length had his wish; for he happened render them invisible. On these rocks it to be in it, at the time of that memorable had long been thought necessary to place storm on the 26th of November 1703. As some monitory signal. But the difficulty the violence, however, of the tempest came of constructing a light-house was great. on, the terrified architect began to doubt One of the rocks indeed, which compose the firmness of his work: it trembled in the this reef is considerably larger than the blast, and shook in every joint. In vain he rest; yet its dimensions are still narrow: made what signals of distress he could init is often covered with water, and fre- vent, to bring a boat from the shore. The “The women, always fond of allegory, and prone quently, even in the calmest weather, sur-terrors of the storm were such, that the to powerful emotions, always preferring the impulses rounded by a swelling sea, which makes it boldest vessel durst not face it. How long of the heart to the cold investigations of reason, difficult to land upon it; and much more so he continued in this melancholy distress is were here strongly impressed by Madame Krudener's doctrines. Wives and maidens, stimulated by her to carry on any work of time and labour. unknown; but in the morning no appeareloquence, were seen selling all they had, and giv: The uncommon tumult of the sea in this ance of the light-house was left. It and all ing unto the poor.' Their jewels, their household furniture, their dress, all went to constitute a fund place is occasioned by a peculiarity in the its contents, during that terrible night, were for the needy." rocks. As they all slope and point to the swept into the sea. This catastrophe furnorth-east, they spread their inclined sides, nished Mr. Gay with the following simile in of course, to the swelling tides and storms his Trivia, which was written a few years of the Atlantic. And as they continue in after the event: this shelving direction many fathoms below the surface of the sea, they occasion that violent working of the water, which the seamen call a ground swell. So that after a storm, when the surface of the sea around is perfectly smooth, the swells and agitation about these rocks are dangerous. From these continual eddies the Edystone derives its name.

It is not very surprising that Swiss fathers and husbands were not in a good humour with these cou

versions of their wives and daughters.

She now became an object of suspicion and dislike to the authorities of the various Cantons, and Waschased from place to place in a way, the description of which excites our feelings pretty strongly on

her side.

During the scarcity of the year 1816, she expended large sums in supplying the poor with food, and great numbers of these flocked around her in the village of Grenzacher Horn, at a short distance from Basil. But the magistrates of this place still continued her enemies, and, on the evening of the 23d of January, 1817, the village was surrounded by the armed police, and Madame Krudener's hearers and pensioners were all taken into custody.

Madame Krudener now set out avowedly on the pilgrimage which was to include all Germany and the neighbouring nations; and to the poor of all countries she particularly addressed herself. She gave the name of "the mission" to the few friends that accompanied her, and assisted her teaching. These were now Empeytas, Kelluer, and Professor Lachenal from Basil. An " Appeal to the Poor," was published by this body:-they were desired in it to trust in God's blessing more than in labour, and to expect his interposition in their behalf in the countries where they were unjustly treated. This interposition would shew itself by great plagues and awful visitations. She particularly alludes to those places where the poor are not allowed to marry unless they have a certain sum of money;-here she says, the laws of man are opposed to those of God.

Madame Krudener continued to travel from town to town, but no where was she allowed by the authorities to stop. The muncipalities were on the

alert to warn her off their premises the moment of her arrival. These measures only tended to increase the crowds that followed her. Early in 1818, she was delivered over by the Saxon police to the Prussian, and conducted by the latter, with her friends, to Konigsberg, since which time nothing has been heard of this remarkable woman.

So when fam'd Edystone's far-shooting ray,

That led the Sailor through the stormy way, Was from its rocky roots by billows torn, And the high turret in the whirlwind borne, Fleets bulged their sides against the craggy land, And pitchy ruins blacken'd all the strand. A light-house was again constructed on this rock before the conclusion of Queen Anne's reign. It was undertaken by one Rudyard, who built it also of wood, but The first light-house of any consequence, having seen his predecessor's errors, avoided erected on this rock, was undertaken by a them. He followed Winstanley's idea in person of the name of Winstanley, in the the mode of fixing his structure to the reign of King William. Mr. Winstanley rock; but he chose a plain circular form, does not appear to have been a man of so- without any gallery, or useless projecting lidity and judgment sufficient to erect an parts for the storm to fasten on. To give edifice of this kind. He had never been stability also to his work, he judiciously innoted for any capital work; but much cele- troduced, as ballast at the bottom, 270 tons brated for a variety of trifling and ridiculous of stone. In short, every precaution was contrivances. If you set your foot on a taken to secure it against the fury of the certain board in one of his rooms, a ghost two elements of wind and water, which had would start up; or if you sat down in an destroyed the last. But it fell by a third. elbow-chair, its arms would clasp around Late one night, in the year 1755, it was you. His light-house, which was built of observed from the shore to be on fire. wood, partook of his whimsical genius. It upper works having been constructed of was finished with galleries, and other orna-light timber, probably could not bear the ments, which encumbered it, without being heat. It happened fortunately that Admiral of any use. It was, however, on the whole, West rode with a fleet at that time in the

Its

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