"When they are fretted with the winds of notice, differ materially from all the other

Nay even, it is more softly applied to feminine
distress, when Suffolk observes, on the trial
of the Duchess of Gloucester, before Henry VI.
"Thus droops the lofty pine, and hangs his
sprays.

"Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youthful combustible qualities; as under certain cir

Cæsar, in his Commentaries, represents it as || washing their linen, and also for personal use; impenetrable to fire. Amongst the modern inhabitants of that country too, it possesses great celebrity, particularly as an ornamental wood, having a fine effect when gilt, superior to any other wood, and even imparting a greater degree of brilliancy to the gold. It has besides a more useful property, that of resisting the action of water, almost for ever, without rotting; indeed, in all regions where it is in abundance, it invariably obtains the pre-black larch in having darker spots. Though ference to all species of the fir tree; and it is much to be wished that some of our landholders who possess extensive vistas, would attend more to its cultivation, as it would thus render the barren bleak hills of Cheviot, and the wolds of Yorkshire, of some value, both to their proprietors and the country at large. Inde pendent of its uses for cutting down, it would in a very few years after planting yield from £2 to £4 per acre, in turpentine only; it also produces manna, and a gum, but in very small quanties. In many parts of Siberia the industrious and economical fair ones collect a fungus from the old larches, which is extremely saponaceous, and is used by them for

but whether it is useful as a cosmetic, or not, we will not pretend to say, though we doubt not but some of our modern cosmetic chemists may avail themselves of this hint, and dash off with the Royal Siberian Fungusian Soap!!!

We must now close this article with notic||ing a particular species of the black larch, which as yet has been but little noticed by botanists, and which differs from the Europeau

it grows to a considerable height and size in
some of the northern parts of America, yet it
does not seem likely to attain such perfection
in this climate; it will, however endure our
severest winters, and it has not yet been
found that our warmest summers have been
detrimental to it. Upon the whole, as the
larch is so highly deserving the patronage of
our fair readers, both for its elegance and
utility, we could wish that some of our female
politicians, instead of assisting their husbands
at county elections, would persuade them
to pay a little more attention to a well-tim-
bered estate !
(To be continued.)

DEAF AND DUMB IMPOSTOR.

It might almost have been admitted as a proverb, that whatever else a man might have assumed as his character, that of a person born deaf and dumb could never have been worth his while to have persevered in; but Paris has lately seen an instance of this imposture, and as the history may be useful, as it certainly is curious, we shall give it at some length. L'Abbé Sicard had received, in the course of last year, so many letters from different parts of France in behalf of a young man who described himself as one of his pupils, and who professed to be travelling from province to province, in search of his father, and to ascertain his family, that he thought proto insert in the public papers a note, per dated July 12, 1806, denying any knowledge of such an individual, and cautioning the pub. lic against deception. The party was accordingly seized and imprisoned at La Rochelle. This produced a letter from M. Victor Serve, officer of the 66th regiment, dated Rochelle, October, 1806, in which the writer describes himself as doing garrison duty in that city, part of which duty consisted in visiting the prisons. He says he had seen this young man, who was about twenty-five or twenty-six years of age; his figure mild and expressive, his address noble and modest, his looks downcast,

his cheeks not ruddy, all his features, as all his attitudes, witnessed his misfortune. He wept, and deeply affected all beholders, who amounted to upwards of one hundred. He won every heart. His father emigrated in 1792, his mother was legally assassinated in the same year; a German, uamed Vere, took him, and taught him the French language, as well as he could. He died in 1802-Such was his story. He called himself Victor de Travanait. The writer then very solemnly attests his conviction that this youth was born deaf and dumb. This letter being signed, &c. by the Mayor, notary, &c. as authentic, the matter was submitted to the Councellor of State, and after some delay, the young man was ordered up to Paris, to be examined at the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb. As he could write, the Abbé naturally endeavoured, in the first instance, to judge by his written answers to questions, whether he really was what he pretended to be. His manner of spelling words convinced the Abbé at once that he was an impostor; but, in spite of all his attempts to render this palpable, the youth eluded his design, and he obtained no decisive proofs in the first examination. A second trial was not attended with greater conviction; the young man conducted him slef

so correctly as perfectly to counteract suspi- wild fruits, without tasting bread. I am not cion. Several days afterwards, the youth was Victor Travanait, but Victor Foy, of Lauzaput to a third trial, at which the Abbé tried réche, six leagues from Paris "It will readily him by the easy syllables which the deaf and he supposed that this declaration, from a dumb are taught first to pronounce, such as mouth which had been four years closed, proPA. Victor pronounced the vowel, A, but not duced a great sensation among the auditory. the consonant. He also acknowledged that be | It produced no less sensation among the pubhad been taught by signs; but he did not under- lic; and on February 24, 1807, the meeting stand a single sign which was made to him. of the Institution was full and overfull of pers Convinced now that he was not really deaf sons curious to see and hear what would pass. or dumb, the Abbé threatened to confront The Abbé Sicard was obliged to give a second him with those persons by whom he said he sitting, after the first was over; and to anhad been taught, and other friends whom be nounce that he would give a third, and a had mentioned; exposing to him at the same fourth, if necessary, in order that no intime the numerous contradictions of which dividual might depart without full conviction. be had been guilty. He denied all, and kept || Silence was obtained with great difficulty in his countenance, but desired the examination such an immense crowd. After which M. might close. The next morning Victor, by Sicard caused several of his deaf and dumb writing, desired that his examination might|| pupils to speak. Victor spoke with much not be so public; the company, accordingly timidity and difficulty, having so long lost the being selected, Victor drew from his pocket a use of speech ; he read with pin and great paper, which he read with a loud and intel- hesitation, in a book which was procured for ligible voice." These are the first words the purpose. He broke off; observing, that which have issued from my mouth during his feelings were too strong to suffer him to four years.”—He said that he would have pre-proceed. When the Abbé observed that the ferred death to this confession; that M. Sicard was chosen to obtain the truth; that he had been vanquished, and no other person should have vanquished him.-"In many cities I have been subjected to different cruel experiments, but never has the smallest symptoms of surprise been seen in my countenance. At Rochelle the warder was directed to sleep with me; but even my dreams were never expressed with more than guttural sounds. Several times have I been purposely wakened out of a sound sleep, my alarm was, however, marked by nothing more than a plaintive croaking. The hundred prisoners who were with me did all which had been ordered them in order to surprise me. In Switzerland, a young, rich, and beautiful woman offered to marry me if I would speak. I resisted every thing. Often have I had the intention of roaming into some wood, and living like a beast. At first I did so, I passed a whole month living on roots, potatoes, and

Prefect of the Police had given one of his shirts to the young man, who was absolutely naked, and other clothing also, he being in great distress, a collection was made in his favour. This had a great effect upon him. Victor observed to the Abbé, that he had so entirely accustomed himself to the illusions of his part, that he had unlearned his hearing. He dcscribed as one of the most powerful proofs to which his constancy had been put, an experi ment practised on him in Switzerland. "I was in a room, under interrogation," said be, "where had been previously suspended, unknown to me, immediately behind me, a great vase full of copper money; suddenly the cord was cut, and the whole came tumbling down with a prodigious clatter -Y、t not the slightest indication of any emotion was dis. coverable in my countenance.”—Such was the termination of a deception which had imposed on parts of Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, and France.

MEMOIRS OF NELL GWYNNE,

The

PIPE WELL-STREET, now abreviated into Pipe-lane, Hertford, gave birth to Nell Gwynne, the celebrated favourite of Charles II memoirs of a courtezan cannot generally be supposed favourable to the cause of morality and virtue: but this instance, exhibiting the strange vicissitudes of human life; the oppo

site qualities which may prevail in the same character; and the serious impressions which arise in the mind, even after the most uniters rupted course of dissipation, may possibly add somewhat to our knowledge of human nature, and induce serious and useful reflections.

By one of the various transitions which re

Duke of Buckingham told him, when Nell was

move individuals of every class from one place first brought to the King, she asked a settle

to another, Nell Gwynne, from her humble cottage in Pipe-lane, became an inhabitant of the great metropolis; here she entered into the service of one of the fruiterers who attended the play-houses; and this was the character in which she first appeared in the lobby of Drury-lane. Agreeable in her person, and possessed of much natural humour and vivacity, she soon attracted the notice and affections of the manager, Mr. Hart; and thus gifted, he introduced her on the stage about the year 1667. In this situation she became a great favourite of Dryden's, who gave her the most shewy and alluring parts in his comedies, || and wrote several prologues and epilogues expressly for her: of these she was the best speaker of her time; and in an epilogue to Tyrannic Love, she expressed her preference to comedy in these words

sented.

"I die

Out of my calling in a tragedy."

ment of five hundred pounds per anuum, which Charles refused to allow; but the same author adds, from the same authority, that four years after, the King had lavished on her no. less than sixty thousand pounds. Nor was this immense sum merely dissipated in useless purposes; she was most munificent in her charities; and the single act of instigating the King to erect Chelsea Hospital, as an asylum for disabled soldiers, must entitle her memory to no inconsiderable respect. The ground on which it stands is generally admitted to have been given by Nell, as an encouragement to the designs. A public house in the vicinity of the hospital, and frequented by its tenants, still exhibits a rude representation of her head; and one of the first remembrances, usually called toasts, which is drank after their dinner, acknowledges their gratitude to their patroness, Nell Gwynne.

When she became first connected with the King, that gay monarch was already surrounded by mistresses. Madame de Queroualle, who was created Duchess of Portsmouth, the | Duchess of Plymouth, Lady Cleveland, Lady Barbara Villiers, Miss Davis, and a long traiu of others, were avowedly of that description; but their conduct was unrestrained, whilst Mrs. Gwynne acquired particular credit for her fidelity to the King. In proof also of her sense and judgment, she would never become the "tool of working politicians," nor inter

The immediate cause of her becoming the object of the King's affection is thus repreAt the Duke's theatre, under Killi grew's patent, the celebrated Nokes appeared in a hat larger than that usually assigned to Pistol, which diverted the audience so much as to help off a bad play. Dryden, in returu, caused a hat to be made of the circumference of a large coach-wheel, and made Mrs. Gwynne speak an epilogue under the umbrella of it, with the brim stretched out in its utmost borizontal extension, not unlike a mushroom offere in matters of serious moment. With such that size. No sooner did she appear in this strange dress, than the house was in convul. sions of laughter. Amongst the rest, the King gave the fullest proofs of approbation, by going behind the scenes after the play, and taking her home in his own coach to sup with him. After this elevation she still continued on the stage, and shewed great powers in exbibiting the airy, fantastic, and sprightly effusions of the comic muse. At this period (A. D. 1670) she was delivered of a son, who was afterwards created Duke of St. Alban's, and her grandson attained the bonours of prelacy, and became the proprietor of that very epis copal palace which almost adjoined the humble cot where his maternal ancestor first drew breath.

As mistress to the King, Mrs. Gwynne betrayed neither avarice, pride, nor ostentation; she remembered all her theatrical friends, and rendered them services, generously discharging her debt of gratitude to Dryden, and prov-|| ing a warm patroness to Otway and Lee. Dr. Burnet, Bishop of Sarum, mentions that the

qualifications she became a great favourite with the people, as well as with the monarch. An eminent goldsmith, who died in London some time ago, at an advanced age, had been often heard to relate, that when he was an apprentice, his master made a most expensive service of plate, as a present from the King to the Duchess of Portsmouth; that a great concourse of people used to crowd the shop, in order to gratify their curiosity, and throw out curses against the Duchess, but that all were unanimous in wishing the present had been for Mrs. Gwynne.

The sprightliness of her temper was a constant source of amusement to the King; the late Lord Vere, (afterwards Duke of St. Alban's) who was her descendant, used to relate, that on every 30th of January, during the reign of the Stuarts, the court and a great part of the nation accustomed themselves to deep mourning; but that his grandmother (Mrs. Gwynne) dressed up his father, when a boy, in the gayest and most tawdry dress she could find, and sent him on that day to the drawing

||

room on some frivolous message to the King, || that the cieling was once similarly ornamentwho, when he saw him, exclaimed," Cet along ed. Over the chimney was her picture by Sir you little bastard, what do you come here for in Peter Lely, from which an elegant engraving that dress?" She was not only humorous and is given in Comte Grammont's Memoirs. It witty, but had a fine understanding, and pos- has been said that this house was purchased sessed the talents necessary to enliven conver- || by her after the King's death; but the peculi sation in an eminent degree. Her place was arly expensive style of its decorations, and generally kept at table with the King, Lords other circumstances, favour the idea that she Rochester, Shaftesbury, &c. until the bounds here often entertained her royal paramour. of decency were exceeded, when she never Her stature was short, her hair inclined to red; failed to retire. Bishop Burnet describes her her eyes were small and lively, and she possesas the wildest and most indiscreet creature sed what the French term embonpoint; her feet that was ever in a court, but admits that she were of the most diminutive size, and as such continued in great favour with the King as were the subject of frequent mirth to the long as he lived. Madame Sevigné, in one of || merry monarch: she lived long enough to see, her letters, mentions that the King's partiality and doubtless to lament the decline of that towards Mrs. Gwynne, excited much jealousy family, which had promoted her to favour and in the Duchess of Portsmouth, which was to fortune. In the year 1691, she died in her heightened by insults and grimaces on the part town house, already described, and was inof her rival; she also describes Mrs. Gwynne terred with great solemnity in the church of as young, confident, wild, and of an agreeable St. Martin's in-the-Fields. Dr. Tennison, bamour; singing, dancing, and acting her then vicar of the parish, and afterwards Archpart with grace. Her country residence, as it bishop of Canterbury, preached a funeral sermight then with propriety be termed, was at mon on the occasion, and adduced satisfactory Bagnigge-wells, where a bust of her still re- evidence that she died a sincere and contrite mains; her town house was on the south side Christian.-Such was Nell Gwynne; her failof St. James's-square, (then Pall Mall) and ings must be admitted by all; but the most near the south east angle of it: the sides of rigid moralist cannot withhold from her the the back room were, within memory, entirely credit of many good and amiable qualities. covered with looking-glass, and it is supposed

INTERESTING ANECDOTES, &c.

DR. JOHNSON.-During the last visit which the Doctor made to Litchfield, the friends with whom he was staying missed him one morning at the breakfast table; on inquiring after him of the servants, they understood he had set off from Litchfield at a very early hour, without mentioning to any of the family whither he was going. The day passed without the return of the illustrious guest, and the party began to be very anéasy on his account, when just before the supper bour, the door opened and the Doctor stalked into the room. A solemn silence ensued of a few minutes, aobody daring to inquire the cause of his absence, which was at length relieved by Johnson addressing the lady of the house as follows:

Madam, I beg your pardon for the abruptness of my departure this morning, but I was constrained to it by my conscience. Fifty years go, Madam, on this day, I committed a breach of filial piety, which has ever since lain heavy on my mind, and has not until this day been expiated. My father, you recollect, was a bookseller, and had long been in the habit of attending Walsall market ; and opening a stall

for the sale of his books during that day. Confined to his bed by indisposition, he requested of me, this time fifty years ago, to visit the market, and attend the stall in his place. But, Madam, my pride prevented me from doing my duty, and I gave my father a refusal. To do away the sin of this disobedience, I this day went in a post-chaise to Walsall, and going into the market at the time of high business, uncovered my head, and stood with it bare an hour before the stall which my father bad formerly used, exposed to the sneers of the standers by and the inclemency of the weather, a penance by which I have propitiated Heaven for this only instance, I believe, of contumacy towards my father!"

A PERSIAN EMPEROR, when hunting, perceived a very old man planting a walnut-tree, and advancing towards him, asked his age? The peasant replied, "I am four years old." An attendant rebuked him for uttering such absurdity in the presence of the Emperor. "You censure me without cause," replied the peasant; "I did not speak without reflection;