The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1824-08-27 00:00:00

said Tom, sturdily, " you are be eontrnonly call ,4 old
Scratch."

The same, at your service !" replied the black man,
with a half civil nod.

Such was the op ning of this interview, according to the!
old story; though it bas almost too familiar an air to be
credited. One Would think that to meet with such a sin-
gular personage. in this wild, lonely place, would have
shaken any man's n V•. 3; but Torn was a hard-minded
fellow, not easily unted, and he had li-ed so long with'
a termagant wife, that he did not even fear the devil.
It is said that after this connieticetnent they had a long
and earhest conversation together, as 'tom returned home-
wards. The black man told him of great sums of money
which had been buried by Kidd the pirate, under the oak
trees on the high ridge, not far from the morass. AU these
were under his cominanil, and protected by his power, so
that none could find them but such as propitiattA his
favour. Theft he °Wesel to place within Tom Walker's
' reach, having conceived an especial kindness fir him ; hut
ithey were to he had only on certain conditions. What
these conditions were may easily be surmised, though Tom
never disclosed them publicly. They must have been
very hard, for he required time to think of them, and he,
was not a man to stick at trifles where money was in
view. When tin, had reached the edge of the swamp, the
strangeritaused—" What proof have I that all you have been
telling me is true ?" said Tom. " There is my signature,"
said the black man. pressing his finger on Tom's forehead.
So saying he turned oif among the thickets of the swamp,
and seemed, as Tom sail, to go down, down, down, into
the earth, until nothing hut his head and shoulders could
be sea, and so en, until he totally disapp.ared.
• .

(To be continued.)

THE MEMOIRS OF FOUCHE ; BY lIIM:TELF.

A pt lication has just made its appearance in Paris
which, as an historical monument, must be regarded with
,j-Jeattstirioaity. We speak of The Menoirs QrFonehe, a
posthumour work of that notorious character. 'Nine rears
ago, when he wrs Minister of Police to Louis . XVIII. a
'short IbLetels of his life.appeared in England, which. so far
as it went, delineated him much more correctly than les
own partial pen. I t spoke of his atrocities in 1793 and 179 t.
It cited his own recorded statements of the churches he hail
plundered, and the massacres that he had perpetrated.
These things he of course throws into shade. He declares
that he was never a member of any of the Revolutionary
Committees. This is true, as regards the Committees of
Government in Paris ; but at Lyons he presided for many
weeks in a Revolutionary Committee, which day after day
slaughtered 60, 80, 100, 200, individuals at a time. In
short, Robespierre himself was not a more sanguinary mon-
ster.
But the actions of Fondle are well known ; and if
they were not, we could not expect to find them faithfully
related by himself. His opinions on other events anal per-
sons are more likely to be impartial, anal they are abund-
antly curious. He is not one of those Who think that the
Revolution was inevitable. On the contrary, he says that
if Louis XVI. had bail the firmness to dissolve the National
Assembly he might have sate on Iris throne to this hour ;
anal he expressly declares that the !truffle would not have
been attacked on the 14th of July, if the Generals had done
their duty on the linh.
After the murder of the benevolent Louis, e.g.. Govern
ment was seised by the National Covention. Let us hear
how Fondle describes this power. "It was a sort of mon-
strous dictatorship," says he, " which grew out of the sub-
version ot all order, anal presented alternately the picture
of Athenian anarchy and Turkish despotism."

The memorable 18th of Bnunaire found Fouche Minis-
ter of Police to the Directory. It is curious to observe
him (unconsciously as it were) exposing his own perfidy
on that occasion. He knew all Buonaparte's intrigues to
get possession of the Consulship; he knew that the struggle
was to take place that morning at St. Cloud; but he was
doubtful of Me event. He therefore took no step one way
or the other, but sat at Paris surrounded by his police
agents, keeping his eye on both parties, sending out spies
every five minutes. and receiving intelligence as frequently,
until the sword of Buonaparte had cut the Gordian knot.—
l'hen he hastened to salute the victor, and was rewarded
by being continued in his post as Minister of Police.
It has often been obserted that Buonaparte, at the time
of which we are speaking, sbewed 'himself far inferior to
our Cromwell ; and Fouche's picture of the scene, which
is drawn with mat liveliness, fatty confirms the remark.
Cromwell's conduct was cool, deliberate, and firm, and the
act was wholly his own. The part which Buonaparte had
to play was chalked out for him by Sieyes, Talleyrand, and
others; and lie would have failed in the performance if it
bad not been for the energy of his brother Lucien, and
the decision of Murat. Even in the Council of Ancients,
where his adherents formed a majority, he delivered his
,speech with much hesitation and disorder; but when he
came to address the Council of Five Hundred he turned
pale, and trembled at the opposition which he encountered,
and was actually carried out of the Hall by his own
soldiers.

Foucbe mentions an incident, which, to those who know
the local situation of the Palace of St. Cloud, strongly
marks the state of indecision into which Buonaparte was
thrown. No sooner bad he escaped from the Hall, than
he mounted his horse, and galloped clown the avenue, •
distance of above a quarter of a mile, to the bridge leading
towards Paris. Near this spot was Sieyes waiting in a
pat-chaise with six horses. Murat joined them at the
bridge. lie it was that decided Buonaparte to turn back
and lead th., troops against the Legislative Body ; while
Lucien, as President of the Council of Five Hundred, lent
the cloak of his authority to the forcible dissolution of the
Government. These details give a tone and colour to the
transaction very different from what is commonly imagined,
and we see in them traits perfectly consistent with the
flight from the army in Rum, and the Satire lasi petit at
iVattrloo.

Till EARL or Fire's CAUSZ.—It will be recollected
that this cause, so highly important in regard to the law of
Scotland, relative to the execution of deeds and instru-
ments, by a person said to be labouring under defect of
vision at the time, and equally important to the present
Earl of Fife, the one party, and the Trustees of the late
Earl, his Lordship's uncle, the other party. the sum at
issue, depending on the decision to be ultimately pro-
nounced, being upwards of 20.000 L a-year, was heard at
great length in the House of Lords, and after the most
able and ingenious observations by the Lord Chancellor
and Lord Redesdale, on the subject of instruments, the
Court of Session in Scotland were directed to send an issue
to a Jury to try whether the deeds of trust, disposition,
and entail, of the 7th of October, 1808, sought to be re-
duced, being in law probative instruments, were not, or ei-
ther of them was not, the deeds or deed of the deceased
James, Earl of Fife; and whether the deed of alteration of
the 12th of November, 1808, sought to be reduced, being
in law a probative instrument, was not the deed of the Earl
of Fife. It is understood that this important trial will take
place in the Jury Court, in Edinburgh, on the Yid No-
vember next.

DerONSHIRE COT IC.—The disease called the Devon-
shire Colic, which is particularly prevalent during the
'summer months, is ascribed to the custom of making cider
in leaden NAM ; but another cause is said to be, that in
making cider, they do not rack it off from dregs, which rise
to the top of each cask at about four days' fermentatioh
after which they settle to the bottom of the cask, and con-,
tinue to fret the cider till it becomes completely sour. The
disease is common in parts of Devonshire where the cideris
never put in leaden vats at all, and where nothing but
stone and wood are used. To make cider properly, it
should be racked off at least twice; the first time into
steamed casks, at the moment it is supposed all the dregs
are at the top ; the effect of steaming the casks (with sul-
phur) is to stop all farther fermentation ; the second time
it should be drawn off from the dregs, which will have
subsided in about eight or nine days, into other steamed
casks, when it will be perfectly wholesome, ■nd will not
fret or assume the aretous fermentation in the height of
summer, which the dregs, when allowed to remain in the
cider, promote. If at the end of one month it be racked
off a third time, it will be still more pure.
PiOTESTANT ASPOCIATION.—We have been informed,
' that at a recent General Meeting of the Orange Lodges of
this city, it was resolved that a Society, to be denominated
the " Protestant Association," and conducted on a plan
something similar to the Catholic Association, should im-
mediately be fennell in this city, and tbat the debates shall
be open to persons of every denomination.—lr Times.