dinner she always observed a particular rule as to the placing of the two or three empty chairs, by which the table was surrounded, but herself always sat in one favourite chair. She constantly enjoyed an excellent state of health; assisted at all times in regulating the affairs of her household; and never, until a little previous to her decease, had an hour's illness. She entertained the greatest aversion to medicine; and, what is remarkable, cut two new teeth at the age of 87, and was never troubled with the toothache. Towards the close of her life her sight failed her. She lived in five reigns, and was believed to be the most faithful living chronicler of the age. A few days previous to her decease, an old lady who was her neighbour died suddenly, which had such an effect upon her that she frequently said her time was also come, and she should soon follow. She enjoyed the use of all her faculties till that period, when she became weak and took to her bed; but steadily refused all medical aid; her conduct to a few relations was extremely capricious; and she would never see any of them; and it was not until a few hours before her dissolution that any relaxation in her temper was manifested. She was interred in Bunhill Fields burying-ground.

WHEN FIRE ENGINES WERE FIRST MADE.

The Phoenix was the first fire office established, in 1682. There were used in towns squirts, or syringes for extinguishing fire, which did not exceed two or three feet in length. These yielded to the Fire Engine, with leathern pipes, which was patented in 1676. Water-tight, seamless hose was made in Bethnal Green in 1720. About this date

A Fire Engine was considered an appropriate present for an aspirant to a borough. At Lewes, in 1726, T. Pelham, Esq., gave one, and having been chosen representative in 1731, he presented a second.

EXTRAORDINARY CATARACT.

In the island of Pulo Penang, in the Straits of Malacca, there is a cataract which is surpassed by very few in the four quarters of the earth. It is rarely visited, and, therefore, has been but seldom described; but, those who have been fortunate enough to witness it, all agree in the opinion that it forms one of the wonders of the world. The stream which supplies it is of considerable volume, and after traversing a long tract of comparatively level country, is suddenly precipitated almost without a break into a ravine, nearly two hundred feet below the summit of the fall. The annexed engraving gives an excellent representation of the scene. The stream descends with a mighty roar, and rushes on with a lightning speed. If you take the trouble of bringing a small looking-glass in your pocket, and come here about an hour before noon, you will be able to produce some very beautiful artificial rainbows. But whatever you do, never attempt to clamber to the top of the rocks, for though, doubtless,

the scenery is very sublime up there, the pathway is slippery and dangerous in the extreme; and the guides can tell how two hapless youths, officers belonging to a regiment stationed here some twenty

years ago, clambered up that hill, and how they shouted with triumph on reaching yon summit, and waved their handkerchiefs bravely; but they can also tell the gloomy and disastrous end of all this; how the wild screams echoed far and wide, as both slipped and fell headlong into the surging torrent, and the sun shone brightly upon the

bright red uniforms as they were hurried over the precipice, and dashed from rock to rock; and, whilst yet the horror-stricken spectators gazed with speechless agony and terror, the bodies of the poor young men were borne away and hid by the blood-stained waters from human recovery.

DANCES OF THE NATIVES IN NEW SOUTH WALES.

The manners and customs of the uncivilized are always legitimate objects of wonder and curiosity to the civilized. It is on this account

that we give the above sketch of one of the festival dances of the natives of Australia.

These dances are not only the usual close of their combats, but are frequent in time of peace. They appear almost necessary to stir up their blood; and under the excitement they produce, the whole nature of the people seems to be changed. To a spectator the effect of one of these exhibitions almost equals that of a tragic melo-drama.

A suitable place for the performance is selected in the neighbourhood of their huts. Here a fire is built by the women and boys, while such of the men as are to take a share in the exhibition, usually about twenty in number, disappear to arrange their persons. When these prepara

tions are completed, and the fire burns brightly, the performers are seen advancing in the guise of as many skeletons. This effect is produced by means of pipe clay, with which they paint broad white lines on their arms and legs, and on the head, while others of less breadth are drawn across the body, to correspond to the ribs. The music consists in beating time on their shields, and singing, and to it the movements of the dancers conform. It must not be supposed that this exhibition is a dance in our sense of the word. It consists of violent and odd movements of the arms, legs, and body, contortions and violent muscular actions, amounting almost to frenzy. The performers appear more like a child's pasteboard supple-jack than anything human in their movements.

This action continues for a time, and then the skeletons, for so they apear to be, since they truly resemble them, suddenly seem to vanish and reappear. The disappearance is effected by merely turning round, for the figures are painted only in front, and their dusky forms are lost by mingling with the dark background. The trees, illuminated by the fire, are brought out with some of the figures in bold relief, while others were indistinct and ghost-like. All concurs to give an air of wildness to the strange scene. As the dance proceeds, the excitement increases, and those who a short time before appear only half alive, become full of animation, and finally are obliged to stop from exhaustion.

A PUDDING AS AN ADVERTISEMENT.

The following fact is interesting, inasmuch as it gives us an insight into the popular tastes of the period, and the power of mob-law:

In 1718, James Austin, inventor of the Persian ink powder, invited his customers to a feast. There was a pudding promised, which was to be boiled fourteen days, instead of seven hours, and for which he allowed a chaldron of coals. It weighed 900 pounds. The copper for boiling it was erected at the Red Lion in Southwark Park, where crowds went to see it; and when boiled, it was to be conveyed to the Swan Tavern, Fish Street Hill, to the tune of "What lumps of pudding my mother gave me." The place was changed to the Restoration Gardens in St. George's Fields, in consequence of the numerous company expected, and the pudding set out in procession with banners, streamers, drums, &c., but the mob chased it on the way and carried all off.

THE DESOLATION OF EYAM.

year

1837

The ancient custom of hanging a garland of white roses, made of writing paper, and a pair of white gloves over the pew of the unmarried villagers who die in the flower of their age, prevailed up to the in the village of Eyam, and in most other villages and little towns in the Peak of Derbyshire. In the year 1665, the plague was conveyed to this unfortunate village, which for a time had been chiefly confined to London. The infection, it appears, was carried in a box of woollen clothes; the tailor, to whom they were directed was, together with his family, the immediate victims of this fatal importation; and a few days sufficed to confirm the fact, that the entire hamlet was deeply infected. A general

panic ensued, the worthy and truly christian Rector, the Rev. William Mompesson, at this eventful and awful crisis, summoned the parish, and after energetically stating the case, and declaring his decided intention of remaining at his post, induced his hearers to adopt the measures he was about to propose, if not for their own preservation, at least for the more important cause, the preservation of the surrounding country. Eyam, from this moment, like a besieged city, was cut off from the living world, and to the zeal and fidelity of this ever-to-be-respected minister was confided the present, as well as eternal welfare of those who were about to prove to posterity, that devotion to their country, as well as to their God, was combined in the truly christian creed taught them by this reverend man. But alas! it was the will of the Almighty that the ranks of this devoted flock should be rapidly thinned, though Mr. and Mrs. Mompesson had been hitherto spared; but in August, the latter was carried off by the fatal disease, in the 27th year of her age; her monument may be seen at no great distance from the chancel door. A number of gravestones, bearing date 1666, in the church-yard, show that for a time, at least, the dead had been deposited there in the usual manner. Soon after the death of Mrs. Mompesson, the disorder began to abate, and in about two months might be said to have entirely ceased. The pious and amiable Rector was graciously preserved.

CURIOUS PLAY BILL.

still

The following remarkable theatrical announcement is worth preservation, inasmuch as it forms a curious effusion of vanity and poverty, in the shape of an appeal to the taste and feelings of the inhabitants of a town in Sussex:

(Copy.)

At the old theatre in East Grinstead, on Saturday, May 5th, 1758, will be represented (by particular desire, and for the benefit of Mrs. P.) the deep and affecting Tragedy of Theodosius, or the Force of Love, with magnificent scenes, dresses, &c.

Varanes, by Mr. P., who will strive, as far as possible, to support the character of this fiery Persian Prince, in which he was so much admired and applauded at Hastings, Arundel, Petworth, Midworth, Lewes, &c.

Theodosius, by a young gentleman from the university of Oxford, who never appeared on any stage.

Athenais, by Mrs. P. Though her present condition will not permit her to wait on gentlemen and ladies out of the town with tickets, she hopes, as on former occasions, for their liberality and support.

Nothing in Italy can exceed the altar, in the first scene of the play. Nevertheless, should any of the Nobility or Gentry wish to see it ornamented with flowers, the bearer will bring away as many as they choose to favour him with.

As the coronation of Athenais, to be introduced in the fifth act, contains a number of personages, more than sufficient to fill all the dressing rooms, &c., it is hoped no gentlemen and ladies will be offended at being refused admission behind the scenes.

N.B. The great yard dog, that made so much noise on Thursday night,