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that."

" No. Maurice ! I perceived you only looked at the
dark side. Have confidence in the Almighty—onr child's
life is in. his hands. He gives and takes away—blessed be
his name !"

" But the prediction hangs over him," observed Lord
Roche.

" The time stated for its accomplishment is far distant,"
replied the lady. "Gerald is barely thirteen, and no
danger threatens for seven years."

"Meanwhile, then, I will select a site, and build a
tower for his residence," said her husband.. "and when
he-passes his twentieth year, he shall live where no water
can come nigh him, to wet his armies, and we shall have

him safe and sound.
Thus mutually comforting and solacing etch other,
as is meet in all domestic trials, the lord and the lady
returned to the castle. Ye ,rs rolled swiftly on —not
unmarked, however, in Castletown-Roche. The story
of the prediction got abroad; and many an aged bead
shook doubtingly on hearing the great prepatations the
Lord was making to avert the fate of his heir.

As the time approached for the fulfilment of the pro-
phecy, Lord Roche resolved to try and avert the ace om-
plishment, and selected the eastern extremity of the Nan-
gle's Mountains as a spot remote from the element which
was predestined to deprive his son cf life. Here he col-
lected materials and skilful workmen ' • and, before the
heir of the title and estates of Maurice Lord Roche com-
pleted his twentieth year, a spacious tower looked from
the top of Cairn-Thierna over the vast extent of country
beneath.

The twentieth birth-day came, and Gerald Roche was

:11 that father could wish the son who was to inherit his
,Ne.,:th and name, or mother's care could form. Manly,
yet gentle—accomplished in all that befitted his rank.
Gerald was not only the darling of his parents, but the
delight of all who knew him ' • and there was not a lip of
man or woman, as he rode by his father's side to enter
his new abode, but prayed for the safe return of young
Gerald Roche.

The youth rode by his father's side. He was separated
from his mother for the first time, and there is something
at all times in parting from those we love that brings sad-
ness to the heart, and depresses the spirits. We miss
the accustomed features that ever met us with the kindly
mile, the voice that greeted us with the softest tone—and
what smile or what voice ever reached us like our mo-
ther's !

For a time Lord Roche and his son rode on in silence;
but the sorrows of the young are of short duration ; their
elastic spirits quickly recover, each object affording no-
velty serves to dissipate their grief. They pursued their
journey over the Ballyhooly mountains on a pleasant day
in spring. The winter had been cold and desolate, and
nature seemed to rejoice at its departure. The snowdrop
was seen, with its round white blossoms, and the yellow
primrose gleamed from the tender blades of green. The

Oirds seemed to enjoy a holiday, and piped merrily like
boys released from school. These sights and sounds had
their effect o❑ the youthful heart of Gerald. He talked
with his father on the sports he would enjoy in the vici-
nity of his mountai❑ castle. The hills were full of hares
he was told, and his greyhounds were remarkable for
fleetness. Then be would practice with long and cross
bow, and win the President of Monster's prize at the next
archery meeting. The master of the stable was to entrust
the breaking in of a young colt of great beauty entirely to
him, for amusement, and his mother promised to spend
the entire summer with him, as soon as her apartments
were ready ; for, owing to a delay in the drying of the
plastering, only one sleeping apartment was sufficiently
aired for safety. With such converse they whiled away
the road, until the castle of the mountain loomed against
the skies. _ .

Oh, how noble!" exclaimed young Roche, as high in
air, piercing the clouds, he beheld the tower he was about
to inhabit.

His father said nothing ; for his heart was full of the
fatal prediction, and he wound up the steep ascent mourn-
fully and thoughtful.

"This is glorioui," 'said the young man, as they paused
mid-way to give the horses breath. Already they had as-
cended considerably above the plains, yet the tower was
as high again as they were from the spot where they di-
verged from the level road. Whichever way they looked,
the eyes took a vast and varied prospect. Beneath lay
mountain and moor, valley and plain dotted with villages
and habitations of peasants, rivers flashed in the far dis-
tance. Lord Roche shuddered as he saw the waters, but
considered the distance and thought of safety.
The cool breeze of the mountain caused a chill which
invited motion, and the pair continued their ascent. Ar-
rived at the castle, they were received with cheers by the
workmen, who were engaged finishing some work on the
outer walls, and the young man rapidly hurried through
the various portions of the dwelling with the eagerness of
youth. His father could not keep pace with him. The
topmost window commanded a splendid view. The sight
embraced a rich line of country, enclosed between the
Bride and the Blackwater rivers, with the waving trees of
numerous forests stretching along the banks. The lofty
Galty mountains seemed a wall to the north ; while the
waters of the distant sea, near Cork harbour, glimmered
with reflected sunshine to the south. The day was un-
commonly calm, and not too bright, and objects were
seen at an almost incredible distance.

Perfectly engrossed in the splendour and variety of
landscape, Lord Roche for some minutes absolutely for.
got the purpose which led him thither ; and when he
awoke to consciousness, his son was no longer by his side.
He called " Gerald," but no Gerald answered. He sum-

moned his attendants; their young master was no'

,t with

them. They called the workman ;he was not with them.
Breathless, Lord Roche descended, running into each
chamber, and calling out his son's name. The portal
was reached, but no Gerald ; the scrutiny of the detached
towers was equally fruitless—he was not to be found! A
large vat stood at a distance, a huge black funeral object,
used, during the building, to hold water for the making
of mortar ; it was nearly full, from the winter rains, and
something like a bird floated on the surface. Lord Roche
appeared. Gracious heaven !—if was an ostrich feather,
such as his son wore in his cap. He looked closer—Oh,
God!—the green and stagnant contents held his beloved
son, secured in the gripe of death ! What induced him to
climb the slippery side ? whether the reflection of his
figure in the water tempted him to venture in, is unknown,
but he was drowned, and fulfilled the prediction. The
castle soon went to decay, and the vast heap of stones on
the brow of Cairn-Thierna attests the truth of the tale.

THE EARTHQUAKE OF 1750.—1 n speaking of the pre-
dicted earthquake, and the fancied shock of 1750, Horace
Walpole gives some forcible illustrations of the English
characters of that day. On the day of its expected occur-
ence. he says, Dick Leveson and Mr. Rigby, who had
supped and stayed late at Bedford House the night be-
fore, knocked at several doors, and in a watchman's voice
cried cried " past four o'clock, and a dreadful earth-
quake." Again, Turner, the celebrated Chinaman, had a
jar which he declared had been cracked by the shock;
`, he originally (says Horace) asked ten guineas for the
pair ; he now asks twenty, because 'tis the only jar in
Europe that has been cracked by an earthquake
" But what will you think (he adds) of lady Lucy Cathe-
rine Felham, lady Frances Arundel, and lady Lucy Gal-
way, who go this evening to an inn, ten miles out of
town, where they are to play at brag till five in the morn-
ing, and then come back—l suppose to look for the bones
of their husbands and families under the rubbish ! "
SCRIPTURAL GEOLOGY.—If it should turn out, on
careful examination of these classes of facts, that there
are quiescent as well as disturbed strata, and that con-
stantly and characteristically so, and that these bear
such relation to each other as to account for their being
disturbed in the one ease and quiescent in the other ; and
if it should appear that a different mode of formation is
uniformly indicated by the presence or absence of fossils,
or by cleavage, or by crystallization, or any other con-
stant character; and if, moreover, a distinction can be
drawn between formative convulsions and destructive
convulsions—that is, between ejections by which strata
have been formed, and convulsions which have only
broken up the strata in order to their being swept away :
if these things should be made manifest, then we can con-
ceive the possibility of explaining existing phenomena, in
accordance with the Mosaic account of the Creation and
of the Deluge. But until it is seen and acknowledged
that we must have recourse, not merely to the surface,
but to the bowels of the•eat th, to find materials for the
great formations, the mere facts cannot be accounted for
—much less can principles be established ; and,as Chris-
tians, we cannot admit any principles which are not in
accordance with the plain letter of the Scripture. Every
notice that appears of the geology of other lands, leads Its
to expect that, in proportion as we become better ac-
quainted with other countries, so, what we already know,
will require to be modified ; that formations which are
regarded as universal will be found wanting in other lo-
calities, and that new formations will appear of which we
are ignorant. Geology,. which professes to be an univer-
sal science—professes to give an account of the constitu-
tion of the whole earth—cannot be allowed these claims,
until the structure and arrangement of the strata in all
parts of the earth have been examined. It has begun in
our hemisphere, and may agree very well with what we
know—it may disagree with the facts of the other hemis-
phere, and may be utterly refuted by its phenomena
whenever they shall become known.—Church of England
Quarterly Review.
PARLIAMENTARY EXECUTIONS.—This Thursday, Bth
March, 1648-9, they are voting and debating in a thin
house,. hardly above sixty there, whether Duke Hamilton,
Earl Holland, Lords Capel, Goring, and Sir John Owen,—
our old friend Colonel Owen, of Nottingham Castle, Jen-
ner,,and Ashe's old friend,—are to die or to live. They
have been tried in a new High Court of Justice, and all
found guilty of treason,of levying war against the supreme
authority of this nation. Shall they be executed ; shall
they be respited ? The house by small majorities decides
against the first three; decides in favour of the last ; and
as to Goring, the votes are equal,—the balance•tongue
trembles, " Life or Death !" Speaker Lenthall says, Life.
On the morrow morning, poor versatile Hamilton, poor
versatile Holland,. with the Lord Capel, who the first of
all in this Parliament rose to complain of grievances, meet
their death in Palace-yard. The High Court was still sit-
ting in Westminister Hall as they passed through " from
Sir Robert Cotton's house." Hamilton lingered a little,
or seemed to linger, in the ball ; still hopeful of reprieve
and fine of £lOO,OOO, but the Earl of Denbigh, his bro-
ther-in-law, a member of the Council of State, stept up
to him ; whispered in his ear ;—the poor duke walked on.
That is the end of all his diploinacies; his Scotch army
of forty thousand, his painful ridings to Uttoxeter, and to
many other places, have all issued here. The Earl of
Lanark will now be Duke of Hamilton in Scotland ; may
a better fate await him. The once gay Earl of Holland
has been " converted" some days ago, as it were fur the
nonce,—poor earl! With regard to my Lord Capel again,
who followed last in order, he behaved, says Bulstrode,
" much after the manner of a stout Roman. He had no
minister with him, nor showed anv sense of death ap-
proaching ; but carried himself all the time he was upon
the scaffold with that resolution as was to be- admired.
He wore a sad-coloured suit, his hat cocked up, and his
cloak thrown under one arm : he looked towards the peo-
ple at his first coming up, and put off his hat in manner
of a salute ; he had a little discourse with some gentle-
men, and passed up and down in a careless posture."
Thus died Lord Capel, the first who complained of griev-
ances c in seven years' time there are such changes for a
man ; and the first acts of his drama little know what the
last will be!—Croneell's Letters, by Carlyle.

LITERARY REWARDS IN THE DAYS OF GEORGE 111.
—The accession of George 111. opened a new and brighter
prospect to men of literary merit, who had been honoured
with no mark of royal favour in the preceding reign.
The new minister, Lord Bute, gave a pension of £3OO
a-year to Dr. Johnson, and the same sum to Home, the
author of Douglas. Beattie and Mallet were pensioned
by the crown. The King condescended to converse with
Dr. Johnson. His minister recommended a literary
work of great national importance to the pen of Walpole,
and held out hopes that the work would meet with the
encouragement of government. But Bute went cut of
power, and nothing was done. Dr. Shebbeare and Tom
Sheridan each received a pension. The king, it was said,
had pensioned a he-bear, meaning Dr. Johnson, as well
a she-bear (Dr. Shebbeare). No one knew why Tom
Sheridan received a pension. " What !" said Johnson,
"have they given him a pension ? Then it is time for me
to give up mine." The wisdom of rewarding literature
in the person of Tom Sheridan may well be doubted.
Mallet had no great claims upon the government as a
literary man. His ballad, it is true, is very beautiful ;
but William and Margaret did nothing for him. He was
pensioned for the dirty work he had executed for a
ministry in want of support. Many writers of sterling
reputation were in the mean time overlooked. The de-
lightful author of The Vicar of Wakefield became, for
very existence, a mere literally hack or drudge for book-
sellers. "In Ireland," says Goldsmith, " there has been
more money spent in the encouragement of the Padareen
ware, than given in rewards to literary men since the time
of Usher." Srnollett sought the assistance of Lord
Shelburne, then in power, but nothing was done for the
entertaininc, novelist; and he was allowed to end his days
in perpetual exile, pinched in his means, and enfeebled
in body, from the incessant employment of his pen.
Burns was snatched from the rickle and the plough "to
gauge ale firkins," and support a wife and family on the
poor emoluments of an excisemen's office A word to
the Commissioner's of Excise in Scotland, from one who
quoted his poems to Mr. Addington with the highest ap-
probation, would have given him a lift in his office, glad-
dened the hearth, and lengthened the life of a true-born
poet. We refer to Mr. Pitt ; when Mr. Addington re-
minded that great statesman of the poet's genius, and the
poor situation it was his lot to fill, Mr. Pitt promised to
do something for him, pushed the bottle on, and remem-
bered his promise, if he remembered it at all, when the
fine-hearted poet of genuine nature,
" Who to the' Illustrious' of his native land,
So properly did look for patronage,"
as, alas, now more I—Fraser's Magazine.

CROMWELL'S EJECTION OF THE RUMP PARMA M
—Wednesday, 20th April, 1653. My Lord General ac-
cordingly is in his reception-room this morning, ".111
plain black clothes and gray worsted stockings;" he, wit
many officers : but few members have yet come, though
punctual Bulstrode and certain others are there. Some
waiting ; some impatience that the members would come.
The members do not come : instead of members, comes 3
notice that they are getting or, with their bill in the houv;
harrying it double-quick through all the stages. Possi-
ble ? New message that it will be law in a little while, lr
no interposition take place ! Bulstrode hastens off to the
house : my Lord General, at first incredulous, does also
now hasten off ; nay, orders that a Company of Muske-
teers of his own regiment attend him. Hastens off, with
a very high expression of countenance, I think ;—saying
or feeling : Who would have believed it of them ? "It
is not honest; yea, it is contrary to common honesty !"--•
My Lord General, the big hour is come ! 'Young Colonel
Sidney, the celebrated Algernon, sat in the house this
morning ; a house of some fifty-three. Algernon has left
distinct note of the affair; less distinct we have from Bul-
strode, who was also there, who seems in some points to
be even wilfully wrong. Solid Ludlow was far off in Ire-
land, but gathered many details in after-years; and faith-
fully wrote them down in the unappeasable indignation of
his heart. "The Parliament sitting as usual, and being
in debate upon the bill with the amendments, which it
was thought would have been passed that day, the Lord
General Cromwell came into the house, clad in plain black
clothes and gray worsted stockings, and sat down, as he
used to do, in an ordinary place." For some time he lis-
tens to this interesting debate on the bill ; beckoning
once to Harrison, who came over to him, and answered
dubitatingly. Whereupon the Lord General sat still, for
about a quarter of an hour longer. But now the onestion
being to be put, that this bill do now pass, he reckons
again td Harrison, says, " This is the time ; I must do
it !"—and so " rose up, put off his hat, and spake. At
the first, and for a good while, he spake to the commen-
dation of the Parliament for their pains and care of the
public good; but afterwards he changed his style, told
them of their injustice, delays of justice, self-interest, and
other faults,"—rising higher and higher, into a very ag-
gravated style indeed. An honourable member, Sir Peter
Wentworth by name, not known to my readers, and by
me better known than trusted, rises to order, as we phrase
it ; says, " It is a strange language this ; unusual within
the walls of Parliament this ! And from a trusted servant
too ; and one whom we have so highly honoured ; and
one"—" Come, come !" exclaims my Lord General in a
very high key, " we have had enough of this"—and in
fazt my Lord General now blazing all up into clear con-
flagration, exclaims, " I will put an end to your prating,'
and steps forth into the floor of the house, and " clapping
on his hat," and occasionally " stamping the floor with
his feet," begins a discourse which no man can report !
He says—Heavens! he is heard saying : " It is not fit
that you should sit here any longer !" You have sat too
long here for any good you have been doing lately. ‘a You
shall now give place to better men !—Call them in !'
adds he briefly, to Harrison, in word of command : and
" some twenty or thirty" grim musketeers enter, with
bullets in their snapchances; grimly prompt for orders ;
and stand in some attitude of carry-arms there. Veteran
men : men of might and men of war, their faces are as the
faces of lions, and their feet are swift- as the roes upon the
mountains ;—not beautiful to honourable gentlemen at
this moment ! "_You call yourselves a Parliament,',

clear blaze of conflagra-
Sume of you are drun-
"lr. Cha'oner, an
30ttle
y Mar-
, lewd livers
is Command-
and the

continues my Lord General in
tion : " You are no Parliament! .
kards " and his eye flashes on poor ...
official man of some value, addicted to th,
"some of you are —," and he glares into Ha
ten, and the poor Sir Peter who rose to or(
both; living in open contempt of Goc
ments. Following your own greedy appetites, _
Devil's Commandments. ` Corrupt unjust persons,
and here I think he glanced at Sir Bulstrode Whitlocke,
one of the Commissioners of the Great Seal, giving him
and others very sharp language, though he named them
not : " Corrupt unjust persons ; scandalous to the pro-
fession of the Gospel how can you be a Parliament for
God's People? Depart, I say; and let us have done with
you. In the name of God—go !" The house is of course
all on its feet—uncertain almost whether not on its head :
such a scene as you never seen before in any House of
Commons. History reports with a shudder that my Lord
General, lifting the sacred Mace itself, said, " What shall
we do with this bauble ? Take it away !"—and gave it to
a musketeer. And now—" Fetch him down !" says be to
Harrison, flashing on the Speaker. Speaker Leuthall,
more an ancient Roman than anything else, declares he
will not come till forced. " Sir," said Harrison, " I will
lend you a hand ;" on which Speaker Lenthall came dowth
and gloomily vanished. They all vanished ; flooding
gloomily clamorously out, to their ulterior by-.
and respective places of abode : the Lone P-

inesaes,
ment IS

dissolved ! " It's you that have forced me to this," ex-
claims my Lord General: " I have sought the Lord night
and day, that he would rather slay me than put me upon
the doing of this work."— Carlyle's Oliver Cromwell's
Letters and Speeches.

CITY TlME.—Among the many peculiar feat
distinguish city from country life, not the least

the different estimation in which ti

the country, the rustic plods along the row], c

a stile, unknowing and Uncaring for the ho
the minute. The deep tones of the churcl
tale to very careless and inattentive hea

ns over
ch less
11 their
nd the
e with-

countryman thinks his watch correct

in a giarter of an hour of the village clock', in

curacy he places as much confidence as if old 'r
self had the winding up of it every day.
however, is the manner in which time is ester