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adding that, as it was the practice of civilized nations to punish criminals in the usual course of justice, Gustavus Cunningham standing in that predicament, was therefore about to be sent to England, to receive that punishment from his injured country which his crimes should be found to deserve. He was accordingly put on board the Grantham packet from New York, which landed him at Falmouth, in July, 1779, and he was immediately lodged in the Castle; but no sooner was he confined, than his ingenuity exercised itself in contriving the means of escape-which he in a short time accomplished by burrowing under the foundations.

From this time till 1783, little is known of Paul Jones; but in the month of December of that year he arrived in London from Paris, with despatches from Congress to John Adams, the American Resident. He had crossed the Atlantic from Philadelphia to France in the short space of 22 days; and after delivering his papers, be set out at 3 o'clock the following morning for Paris,to proceed to America. During the peace his mind seems to have languished for active employment; and in March, 1788, being then at Copenhagen, he made an offer of his services to the Emperor of Russia, and was accepted; but how or where he was employed does not ap

pear; that he was unsuccessful, and gave no satisfaction to his employers, may however be inferred from his being under the necessity of retiring to Paris, where he spent the remainder of a life now drawing to its close. The revolution soon after broke out, and not finding employment in the deranged and useless state of the French navy his spirits failed, and he sunk into such abject want, that Captain Blackden was obliged to raise a small sum by way of subscription in order to bury him; he died in the utmost poverty, in June, 1792.

Being a Scotchman, he was deemed a Calvinist, and as the laws relating to the interment of persons of that persuasion were not then abrogated, it was necessary to mnke an application to the General Assembly, who not only revoked these laws as far as they interfered with his case, but voted that a deputation of its members should attend his funeral. Whatever might be the reality, a semblance of attachment to the national religion remained, and a few of the Assembly objected to this mark of respect on account of his being a Protestant, but this idea was scouted by a vast majority; and the remains of Paul Jones were escorted to the grave by many who were well calculated to emulate the darkest and most desperate deeds of his eventful life.

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(Blackwood's Mag.)

ANN STAVERT AND AMOS BRADLEY.

SAAC COLLINS was the proprietor of a small farm in Lancashire, and having been from his youth of penurious habits, he was, at the age of sixty, possessed of considerable wealth. He had never been married, and had no near blood-relation alive, so that it was often talked of in the neighbourhood, what would become of his riches on the miser's death. It was generally agreed that they would fall to the King, for Isaac, it was said, hated the very sight of a woman; and besides, who would marry a being so despicable and hateful? "Ay, forsooth, many a young and pretty maiden too would marry old Isaac, with his money bags," chuckled the hoary miser, when spitefully he heard the banters of his neighbours, and leered upon them with the glistening eyes of avarice and misanthrophy. "Let youth, health, strength, and comeliness, go woo in vain; but I can charm the fairest witch in Lancashire into my chaff-bed and withered arms. What think ye of Ann Stavert of Fell-side ?" and the dotard laughed in the mixed joy of his pride, his lust of gold, and the dregs of desire dulled by age, infirmity and a stony heart.

Ann Stavert was the most beautiful girl in all the country side. She was an only child; and her mother, who had long been a widow, was now reduced to the lowest ebb of poverty. When first Isaac Collins the miser asked Ann in marriage, the souls of both mother and daughter recoiled in horror and disgust. But in less than a week afterwards, Ann had promised to marry him; and in a month she was his wife.

The fondness of the dotard now held a constant struggle with the avarice of the miser. Bold and beautiful, heartless and unprincipled, Ann Stavert drained the blood from his withered heart, as she coaxed, and wheeled, and kissed, and embraced him out of his long-gathered, and hidden stores of gold. The very chinks of the walls gave out their guineas; and his trem

bling hand dropped them into her lap, wrapped up in loathsome rags, that had long mouldered in impenetrable concealment. His old rheumy eyes gloated on the yellow glare of the gold, and then on the luxurious shape of her on whom he lavished it in agony; and then he kissed alternately the hard edges of the coin, and the warm lips of his wedded paramour. "Dost thou not love thine old kind Isaac ?" and she pressed him with her bare and snow-white arms, close to the heaving fulness of her bosom. The doting miser would thus fall asleep, grasping in his lean fingers a few yet unfilched pieces of coin, of which he dreamt along with the hot kisses that had cajoled him out of their too slippery brethren.

What happiness could Ann Stavert have in gold?-She was beautiful; and she was proud of her beauty. Now she could adorn her tall, commanding, and alluring person in garments which set off all its temptations,-could outshine all her rivals-and dazzle the eyes of a hundred lovers. She knew that her husband was an object of pity, contempt, and scorn; and she did not conceal that he was so to herself, more than to all others, as the glance of her bright and bold eyes met the faces of men at church or market. But she enjoyed their admiration and delight in her rich ripe loveliness, even while she leant it against the palsied side of old Isaac the miser. "And will he not soon die?" was a thought she feared not to let come questioning to her heart, for she loathed and abhorred the body that was half ready for the corruption of the grave.

But Isaac, though palsy-stricken, was tenacious of life. Now two strong passions kept his bloodless body above the ground. He drank existence from the breath of his young wife, and from that of his coffers. The very struggles of his avarice-the tear and wear of his soul, bartering one kind of joy for another, both equally aimless and unnatural, seemed to lend a sort of shri

velled strength to the body they consumed;-and week after week, month after month, year after year, had Ann Stavert to cajole and to curse, till at last she fell down on her knees, and prayed to God that the old wretch might die; for her soul was sickened into angry despair, and she longed to see him in his shroud,—his coffin,—his grave.

Ann Stavert had sold her body for gold, and the soul is often lost in such a bargain. She had strong passions -they had long slept, but at last they were kindled. She singled out from the many who admired her, Amos Bradley, a tall stripling of 18; and she swore an oath within her soul, that she would deliver herself up to him, soul, body, and estate. Her eye spoke -and in the arms of Amus Bradley, she cursed with a more bitter soul her old palsied miser, and with more passionate prayer called upon his Maker to shorten his hated life. The passions of hatred and love wholly darkened her conscience; from the bed of disgust and horror, she flew to the bosom of desire and enjoyment; and when clasped in the embraces of guilt, she dared to think that God would forgive even the murder of her wretched and miserable husband.

The old man saw into her heart, with the craftiness of his half-extinguished intellect, and he hobbled out on his crutch into the night-darkness, a spy on their secret assignations. Blind and deaf to other things, here he both saw and heard, and knew in the decrepitude of his soul and body, that his wife was an adultress. "Shall I drive her out of my house without a penny, except what she has stolen, or shall I put poison into her drink, and punish her for cheating the old man ?" But as the miser was sitting in these cruel thoughts, with his dim red eyes fastened on the floor, his wife entered the room with her flushed visage, and sat down by his side. She looked up, and the fascination of that face in a moment changed him into willing and content ed abasement. "Where wast thou, Ann? I thought I saw thee with that younker, Amos Bradley-thou dost 34 ATHENEUM VOL. 1. new series.

not love Amos better than old Isaac ? my pigeon, give me a kiss.”—She kissed his loathsome lips with a shudder— as she thought of him whom she had just left, and his endearment that had searched her very soul-" No, no, my kind Isaac-thou art not so old yet— let us to bed;"-while the dotard knowing, and yet forgetting his wife's infidelity, with a leer rose up, and taking his rush-light, which his penurious soul repined should be wasted, tottered into his bed-chamber, and with flashes of anger and vengeance dimly breaking through his decayed memory, and then lost again in the fascination of fondness and fear, he laid down his withered body on the bed from which it was never again to be lifted up in life.

She had left Amos Bradley in hiding, and now she returned to his arms. "Oh! Amos, the old villain has seen us in our joy, and he leered at me with the face of a devil. Perhaps his old lean fingers will strangle me in my sleep." "Don't suffer him, Ann, to touch your bosom or neck again. You are mine now, and cursed be the slaver of his drivelling lips!" "No, Amos, never shall the toad pollute my bosom again; but dost think he will kill me, Amos? He is cruel in his old age, and hates even when he hugs me. As the Lord liveth, Amos, for thy sake I will shed his blood! This knife shall go to his heart!" Ann, wilt thou marry me if we murder him." "Yes, Amos, and thou shalt lie between my breasts for ever." "Swear it then before God." "I swear before God, as I hope for mercy at the day of judgment."

They went together into the old man's room, and he saw them by the glimmer of the rush-light. There was death in their eyes; and the miser sat up, shaking with terror and palsy, and clasped his shrivelled hands in prayer. "Thou wilt not murder thine old friend Isaac-wilt thou, Ann? Take her, Amos, love and cherish her; I will not see it, but spare my life. There is a bag of guineas in the wall yonder, near that cobweb-dig it out, but save the old miser's life; AmosAnn, I am afraid of hell." One held his throat, and the other struck him with his knife; but the hand that held

the knife had trembled, and the feeble
blow glanced off the ribs of the wretch-
ed old man.
"I cannot strike again,
Amos, but we must finish him, or we
are dead people." The stripling took
his grasp away from the throat, and
the old grey head fell back on the pil-
low. The murderers stood still for a
minute, and by the rush-light glimmer-
ing in the socket, they both saw that he
was dead.
"Don't stare upon me so
ghastly, Amos, thank God there is no
blood." "Thank God!-did you say
thank God?" A blast of rain dashed
against the window, and the murder-
ers started. "God preserve us, Amos!
-did your hear voices? Hush, it is
nothing. Nobody will suspect, and I
will marry thee, my sweet Amos, and
we shall be rich and happy." They
lifted the body, and laid it down on
the floor; and, once more renew
ing their vows of fidelity before God,
they lay down in each other's arms till
past midnight. Then Amos arose,
and returned before dawning to his
mother's house.

poor

Ann Stavert and Amos Bradley stood beside the corpse, and, borne down by conscious guilt, and fearful evidence of circumstances, looked for a short space on each other, and confessed that they were the murderers.

Amos Bradley was a mere boy, selfwilled and deplorably ignorant, but he had never dreamt of committing a cruel crime, till the night on which he grasped the old man's throat with a deadly purpose. He was tempted, and in a moment fell. Now, in the silence and darkness of his cell, his mind was wholly overpowered by a sense of guilt, and sunk almost into idiotcy. But Ann Stavert had long been familiar with horrid thoughts, and for a while her soul rebelled in a fit of unrelenting obduracy. Neither did the fear of death extinguish her guilty and burning passion. Nightly did she dream of him she had seduced to desstruction, and awake from troubled and delusive raptures into the dreadful conviction of chains and approaching doom. Even in her cell she would have bared her bosom to him in passion unextinguishable till the day of execution. But the murderers were kept apart. He could not hear her loud and angry shrieks-she could not hear his low and miserable moans. Each cell held, unheard without, its own groans, and the clanking of its own heavy chains.

They stood at the bar together, and together they received sentence of death. He said nothing-but looked around him with a vacant stare. There was no expression in his countenance of any cruelty, or of any strong passion. His soul had died within him, and to the crowded court he was almost an object of compassion. Ann Stavert stood at the bar with all her soul awake. "Then let me die.

The next morning it was known that Isaac the miser was dead; and many a careless or coarse jest was made on him and his widow. But during the day, the jesting was at an end; and dark looks and suppressed whispers told over all the parish that Isaac, of whom nobody knew any ill but that he was too fond of his money, had had foul usage at last, and that his fair wife best knew how he had died. The black finger gripes were on his neck, and a slight wound on his side near the heart. The prints of a man's feet, all unlike that of poor lame Isaac, were seen all round the house and barn; and his widow, when a knife stained at the point with blood, and exactly fitting the wound, was produced, fell down in a mortal swoon. A neigh bour, who had been early a-foot, had Repent? Why should I repent? met Amos Bradley near the house of Because I murdered that loathsome the dead man, and on awakening from wretch, and gave me to the youth I her swoon, the wretched woman, hear madly loved? Had it never been dising his name, cried out, in desperation, covered, we should have been happy. "Have you got Amos among you?—Hear it, ye judges of the land! I was Amos, Amos, they say we murdered him." An hour before midnight the crime had been perpetrated, and the sun had not reached its height, when

But

happy in Amos's bosom the very hour of murder, although I saw the corpse lying on the floor by the moonlight. Hang me-give my body to dissec

tion-but as it lived for years in loathing and abhorrence, so did it live for a few hours in joy and in heaven, and that was enough. And now I shall be told that my soul must sink down to hell. But God is just, and I am forgiven."

They were removed from the bar he, silent, and seemingly insensible to his doom;-she, with hands clenched against the Judge who had pronounced sentence of death, and uttering blasphemies. It is but a short time from Friday till Monday, but great changes have been wrought during it, short as it is, in the minds of those whose bodies have been in chains. Amos Bradley was visited by his mother; and at the sight of her his understanding, which had been nearly extinguished by the weight of woe, was gradually restored. He was reconciled to his deserved doom and being made partially to understand the hopes and promises of the gospel by one who was indeed a Christian, the wretched and guilty boy seldom left his knees, and was a true penitent. But Ann Stavert on the night of condemnation, was struck with sudden horror; and a fanatic be

THE shadows of twilight
Steal over the sky,
And the star of the evening
Has risen on high.

The sweet breathing flowers
Are seeking repose,
And the dewy drops moisten
Their leaves as they close.

The fragrance they scatter'd
Around them all day,

In the chill of the night-breeze
Has melted away.

Like the friends of life's sunshine,
Whose falsehood is found,
When the cloud of affliction
Is gathering around.

267

ing introduced into her cell, soon converted her into a frantic believer in the perfect remission of all her sins. She now joined in horrid union with the name of her poor dear Amos that of the Saviour of mankind-kept continually repeating that she was made pure in his holy blood-and longed to be with him this night in paradise. The scaffold was erected before her husband's door; and as she and her miserable victim mounted its steps, there was a growl of thunder in heaven. Amos Bradley knelt down and prayed

then kissed his mother, who was with him on the scaffold-and turning round, said, "Ann, how dost thou feel? Is it possible God may forgive us? he may be merciful to us, although we showed none to old Isaac." The wretched woman rushed forward to embrace him, but her arms were tied with cords, and her strength was gone. "This night, Amos, we shall be in "Or hell, woman," uttered Heaven." a hoarse voice. It was the Executioner, who bound her shrieking to the beam; and in a few minutes the crowd was dispersed, in tears, trembling, execration, and laughter.

(Lond. Lit. Gaz.)

THE INDIAN FLOWER.

But one is still left us

Now waking alone,
Whose perfume is richer
Than all that are gone.

It rises from slumber

Its sweetness to shed,
When each child of the day-light
Is drooping its head.

So when false friends forsake us,
There still are some hearts
Who cling to us closer

As Pleasure departs :

Their smile can illumine

Our darken'd path yet,
Though the Sun of our fortunes
For ever has set.

THE ROUND TOWER.-A SONNET.

In London, queen of cities, you may see,

Facing the lordly house of Somerset,
A goodly tall round tower. Its base is wet
With Thames' fair waters rolling quietly;
Who was it built this tower? what may it be?

Say, was it piled by Druid bands of old?
Or reared by Eastern Magi, there to hold

The sacred flame, type of their deity?
Was it a Hermit's calm retreat? or pile
Where hung sonorous the resounding bell?
Or is it such as in green Erin's Isle

We see, whose uses nobody can tell?-
"Twas answered :-Who 'twas built it know I not,
But 'tis, I know, the Tower for Patent Shot.

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