of this circumstance had been communicated to her as to be supported in the arms of attendants. He evinced father, but he seemed to despise it. There was, the last testimony of his regard to the unfortunate young however, a blacksmith, whose wife had nursed Miss lady he had murdered, of whom he was passionately Knox, and he, with the known attachment of such fond, and whom he mourned as his wife. The cap a connection in Ireland, always followed his foster- which covered his face was bound with black; his jacket daughter, as her protector, whenever she ventured was trimmed with black, having black jet buttons, with abroad. To detach his daughter from this unfortu- large black buckles in his shoes. When lifted up the nate connection, Mr. Knox resolved to leave the ladder he exerted all his strength to throw himself off, country, and introduce her to the society of the metro- and with such force that the rope broke, and he fell polis; and in the beginning of November, 1761, pre-gasping to the ground. As he was a man of daring enterpared to set out for Dublin. M'Naghtan and a party prise and profuse bounty, he was highly popular, and the of his friends having information of his intention re- crowd made a lane for him to escape, and attempted to paired to a cabin, a little distance from the road, with assist him. He declined their aid, and declared he a sack full of firearms. From hence one of the party would not live; he called to his follower, Dunlap, for was despatched to the house of an old woman who lived the rope which was round his neck, the knot of which by the wayside, under the pretence of buying some yarn, was slipped and placed round his own. Again he was to wait for the coming up of Mr. Knox's carriage. assisted up the ladder, and, collecting all his energies, When it did arrive, the woman pointed it out, named he dung himself off, and died without a struggle. His the travellers it contained, and described the position in unfortunate but faithful follower stood by wringing his which they sat. They were Mr. Knox, his wife, his hands as he witnessed the sufferings of his dear master, daughter, and a maid-servant. It was attended by but and earnestly desired that his own execution might be one servant, and the smith before mentioned. The scout hastened, that he might soon follow him and die by the immediately ran before, and communicated to M'Naghtan same rope.-Sketches of Ireland. the information he had received. The carriage was instantly surrounded by him and three other men. M'Naghtan and one of his accomplices fired at the smith, whom they did not kill, but totally disabled. The blinds of the carriage were now close drawn, that the persons inside might not be recognised. M'Naghtan rode up to it, and either by accident or design discharged a heavily-loaded blunderbuss into it at random. A shriek was heard inside. The blind was let down, and Mr. Knox discharged his pistol at the assassiu. At the same moment another was fired from behind a stack of turf by the servant who had concealed himself there. Both shots took effect in the body of M'Naghtan. He was, however, held on his horse by his associates, who rode off with him. The carriage was then examined. Miss Knox was found dead, weltering in her blood. On the first alarm she had thrown her arm about her father's neck to protect him, and so received the contents of the murderer's firearms. Five balls of the blunderbuss had entered her body, leaving the other three persons in the carriage with her unhurt and untouched by this random shot. MRS. FRY. REMINISCENCES OF EARLY LIFE. My earliest recollections are, I should think, soon after I was two years old. My father, at that time, had two houses-one in Norwich, and one at Bramerton, a sweet country place, situated on a common, near a village; here, believe, many of my early tastes were formed, though we left it to reside at Earlham, when I was about five years old. The impressions then received remain lively on my recollection; the delight in the beauty and wild scenery on parts of the common, the trees, the flowers, and the little rills that abounded on it; the farmhouses, the village school, and the different poor people and their cottages, particularly a poor woman with one arm, whom we called One-armed Betty. Another neighbour, Greengrass, and her strawberry-beds round a little pond; our gardener, who lived near a large piece of water, and used to bring fish from it; here I think my great love for the country, the beauties of nature, and attention to the poor began. My mother was most dear to me, and the walks she took with me in the old-fashioned garden are as fresh with me as if The country was soon alarmed, and a reward of five hundred pounds offered for the apprehension of the murderers. A company of light horse scoured the dis-only just passed, and her telling me about Adam and trict, and amongst other places were led to search the house of a farmer named Wenslow. The family denied all knowledge of M'Naghtan, and the party were leaving the house, when the corporal said to one of his companions, in the hearing of a countryman who was digging potatoes, that the discoverer would be entitled to a reward of three hundred pounds. The countryman immediately pointed to a hayloft, and the corporal, running up a ladder, burst open the door, and discovered M'Naghtan lying in the hay. Notwithstanding his miserably wounded state, he made a desperate resistance, but was ultimately taken and lodged in Lifford gaol. Some of his accomplices were arrested soon after. They were tried before a special commission at Lifford, and one of them was received as king's evidence. M'Naghtan was brought into court wrapped in a blanket, and laid on a table in the dock, not being able to support himself in any other position. Notwithstanding acute pain and exceeding debility, he defended himself with astonishing energy and acuteness. A singular trait of Irish feeling occurred in the course of the trial. One of his followers implicated in the outrage, named Dunlap, was a faithful and attached fellow, and his master evinced more anxiety to save his life than his own. As a means of doing so, he disclaimed all knowledge of his person. "Oh, master dear," said the poor fellow beside him in the dock, "is this the way you are going to disown me, after all?" On the day of execution M'Naghtan was so weak Eve being driven out of Paradise. I always considered it must be just like our garden at Bramerton. I remember that my sprits were not strong; that I frequently cried when looked at, and used to say that my eyes were weak; but I remember much pleasure and little suffering, or particular tendency to naughtiness, up to this period. Fear about this time began to show itself of people and things. I remember being so much afraid of a gun, that I gave up an expedition of pleasure with my father and mother because there was a gun in the carriage. I was also exceedingly afraid of the dark, and suffered so acutely from being left alone without a light when I went to bed, that I believe my nervous system was injured in consequence of it; also I had so great. a dread of bathing (to which I was at times obliged to submit) that at the first sight of the sea, when we were as a family going to stay by it, it would make me cry: indeed fear was so strong a principle in my mind as greatly to mar the natural pleasure of childhood. I am now of opinion that it would have been much more subdued, and great suffering spared, by its having been still more yielded to; by having a light left in my room; not being long left alone; and never being forced to bathe: for I do not doubt at all that it partly arose from that nervous, susceptible constitution that has at times throughout my life caused me such real and deep suffering. I know not what would have been the consequence had I had any other than a most careful and wise mother, and judicious nurses, or had I been alarmed, as too many children are, with false threats of what might happen. I had, as well as a fearful, rather a reserved mind, for I never remember telling of my many painful fears, though I must often have shown them by weeping when left in the dark, and on other occasions. This reserve made me little understood, and thought very little of, except by my mother and one or two others. I was considered and called very stupid and obstinate. I certainly did not like learning, nor did I, I believe, attend to my lessons,-partly, I believe, from a delicate state of health, that produced languor of mind as well as of body; but I think having the name of being stupid really tended to make me so, and discouraged my efforts to learn. I remember having a poor, not to say low, opinion of myself, and used to think I was very inferior to my sisters, Rachel and Catherine. I believe I had not a name only for being obstinate, for my nature had a strong tendency that way; and I was disposed to a spirit of contradiction, always ready to see things a little differently from others, and not willing to yield my sentiments to theirs. My natural affections were very strong from my early childhood, at times overwhelmingly so; such was the love for my mother that the thought that she might die and leave me used to make me weep after I went to bed; and for the rest of the family, notwithstanding my fearful nature, my childlike wish was that two large walls might crush in all together, that we might die at once, and thus avoid the misery of each other's death. I seldom, if I could help it, left my mother's side; I watched her when asleep in the day with exquisite anxiety, and used to go gently to her bedside to listen, from the awful fear that she did not breathe: in short, I may truly say it amounted to deep reverence that I felt for my father and mother. I never remember, as a little child, but once being punished by my mother; and she then mistook tears of sorrow for tears of naughtiness, a thing that deeply impressed me, and I have never forgotten the pain it gave me. Although I do not imply that I had no faults,-far from it, as some of the faults of my childhood are very lively in my recollection, yet, from my extreme love and fear, many of those faults were known only to myself.-Mems. of Mrs. Fry. A STRAYED SHEEP RETURNED. Dublin, Aug. 10, 1847.-Feast of St. Lawrence Martyr. MY LORD, I address you in the profound bitterness of my soul. I trust I may do so without offence, although my conduct has rendered me unworthy of your notice. Your charity will not refuse to receive the submission of an unworthy priest, who has disgraced religion and the sacred character with which he had been entrusted, but who now bitterly deplores his guilt, and is determined to repair to the fullest extent the scandal he has given. This letter I intend as the first step in the work of reparation, and I address your lordship as it was in your diocese that I last officiated as a Roman Catholic clergyman. I declare to your lordship, in the presence of God —and I desire my words to be proclaimed throughout the church of Ireland-that in renouncing the Holy Roman Catholic faith, as I lately did, I acted against the dictates of my conscience; and I was instigated only by the evil passions of my heart-by anger, and a want of submission to the lawful authority of my superiors. The writings which have been published in my name I intend more fully to retract; but I wish to say here that they are, and ever were, totally opposite to my convictions. In fact, I never for a moment doubted the doctrines of that one true and holy Roman Catholic Church, in which I had been baptized and educated, and to the bosom of which I have now returned. May I entreat of your lordship that you will cause this letter to be published from the altars of every parish in your diocese, in order that the faithful people whom I have scandalised may know of my repentance, and may offer their fervent prayers for me that my sins may be forgiven? Pardon me, my lord, the trouble and affliction I have occasioned you, and remember, in the adorable sacrifice of the altar, him who has the honour to be, with profound respect, your lordship's most unworthy but repentant servant in Christ, NICHOLAS BEATTY. To the Right Rev. Dr. O'Higgins. AN AGREEABLE INVITATION. Tom Galvin, the notorious Irish hangman, thus invited Jemmy O'Brien, the not less notorious Irish informer, to come and be hanged :-When the wretched Jemmy O'Brien was about to be executed, he exhibited protract his life thus for a few moments. Galvin's adthe greatest terror, and lingered over his devotions, to dress to him is well known. He called out at the door, criminal," Mr. O'Brien, jewel, long life to you, make so as to be heard by all the bystanders, as well as the haste wid your prayers; de people is getting tired under de swing-swong."-Sketches of Ireland. GATHERINGS. DEATH OF MARAT.-The first intention of Charlotte had been to kill Marat in the hall of the Convention itself, and then to allow herself to be murdered by the infuriated multitude-thus burying her name and purpose in eternal oblivion; but, when she arrived in Paris, she learned that Marat was too ill to assist at the meetings, and was only to be seen at home. She had to write two letters to him ere she could procure an interview. When she was at last admitted to see him he was, as all the world knows, in a bath. After a few questions on the state of Normandy, he demanded of her the names of the Girondin deputies then at Caen, wrote them down, and, with a smile of satisfaction, exclaimed, "Before another week be past they shall all have met the guillotine." Scarcely had the words crossed his lips ere the knife of Charlotte Corday was in his heart. He gave one loud cry for help, and expired. The murderess was instantly secured. Her behaviour in prison and before her judges was full of serenity. She heard her sentence of death with a smile. On returning to her prison she found the executioner waiting for her, and begged for a short delay to allow M. Hauer, a painter, who had begun taking her portrait in the hall of judgment, to complete his task. She spoke with M. Hauer of his art, of the event of the day, and of the peace which she felt within since her deed was accomplished. She spoke, too, of her young friends at Caen, and begged of the artist to send a small copy of the large portrait he was painting to her family. While thus conversing, a low knock was heard at the door of the prison behind; it was the executioner. Turning round, Charlotte perceived the scissors and the red chemise which he carried on his arm. For a moment she shuddered and grew pale. "Already!" she involuntarily exclaimed. But she soon grew composed, and, glancing on the unfinished portrait, "Sir," said she to the artist, with a sad and kindly smile, "I know not how thank you for the pains which you have taken. This is all that I can offer you; keep it as a token of your kindness and my gratitude." So saying, she took the scissors from the hand of the executioner, and, cutting a lock of the hair which escaped from beneath her cap, offered it M. Hauer. The executioner cut her hair, bound her hands, and threw over her the red chemise of the condemned. She observed, with a smile, "This is the toilet of the grave, performed by rude hands, but it leads to immortality."-History of the Girondins. MURDER OF CHARLES THE FIRST.-The following scrap of information will be new to readers of English history:-" With reference to the passage of Charles the First through St. James's-park on the morning of his execution, we are enabled to lay before the reader the following interesting extract from a letter preserved in the British Museum, which has not hitherto appeared in print :- This day his Majesty died upon a scaffold at Whitehall. His children were with him last night; to the Duke of Gloucester he gave his George; to the lady [the Princess Elizabeth], his ring off his finger: he told them his subjects had many things to give their children, but that was all he had to give them. This day, about one o'clock, he came from St. James's in a long black cloak and grey stockings. The Palsgrave came through the Park with him. He was faint, and was forced to sit down and rest him in the Park. He went into Whitehall the usual way out of the Park; and so caine out of the Banquetting-house upon planks, made purposely, to the scaffold. He was not long there, and what he spoke was to the two bishops, Dr. Juxon and Dr. Morton. To Dr. Juxon he gave his hat and cloak. He prayed with them; walked twice or thrice about the scaffold; and held out his hands to the people. His last words, as I am informed, were, "To your power I must submit, but your authority I deny." He pulled his doublet off himself, and kneeled down to the block himself. When some officer offered to help him to unbutton him, or some such like thing, he thrust him from him. Two men, in vizards and false hair, were appointed to be his executioners.'"-Memorials of London. been able to collect on the subject, the introduction of the "Piccadilly" was at least not of an earlier period than 1614. When we are able, therefore, to prove that the word "Pickadilla" was in common use as far back as 1596 (our authority is Gerard's "Herbal," where the "small wild buglosse," or ox-tongue, is spoken of as growing upon the banks of the dry ditches "about Pickadilla"), we are compelled to disturb the old opinion that the present street derives its name from a fashionable article of dress, which we find was not introduced till nearly twenty years after "Pickadilla " had become a familiar name, and which, moreover, was little likely to be sold in so rural a district as Piccadilly was in the days of James the First. Let us be allowed to throw out one suggestion on the subject. Pickadilla-house, which stood nearly on the site of the present Panton-square, was a fashionable place of amusement apparently as far back as the reign of Elizabeth, and continued to be so nearly till the time of the Commonwealth. It has been the custom of all countries to confer an alluring name on places of amusement, as, for instance, we find the fashionable "Folly" floating on the ST. JAMES'S PALACE.-If St. James's-place is famous Thames in the days of Charles the Second; and I cannot, for having been the residence of the poets, Cleveland- therefore, but think that Pickadilla-house derived its row (at the bottom of St. James's-street, facing the pa- name simply from the Spanish word peccadillo, literally lace) is no less remarkable as having been frequented meaning a venial fault, but which was intended, perby the wits. Here resided Colonel John Selwyn, an haps, to imply more than met the eye. Under all ciraide-de-camp of the great Duke of Marlborough, and cumstances, it seems far more reasonable to suppose that the father of the memorable wit, George Selwyn; and it the newly-invented ruff should have derived its name was in his house that the celebrated personal encounter from being worn by the fair ladies and silken gallants took place between Sir Robert Walpole, then Prime Mi- who frequented Pickadilla-house, than that a trifling nister, and Lord Townshend, one of the Secretaries of article of dress should have given a name, first to the State. The particulars may be briefly related. During suburban emporium in which it is asserted to have been an altercation in which they were engaged, Sir Robert sold, and afterwards to one of the principal streets in exclaimed with considerable warmth, " My lord, for Europe. Why, indeed, should a ruff have been called a once, there is no man's sincerity whom I so much doubt pickadilla, unless from some such reason as we have as your lordship's." Lord Townshend, who to many mentioned? Or what lady is there who ever went into excellent qualities united a fiery and uncertain tempe- the fields to buy her attire? And, in the days of Elizarament, immediately seized the first minister by the beth and James the First, Pickadilla-house stood litethroat. Sir Robert grappled with his antagonist in rally in the fields. The fact, however, that "Pickadilla" return, and, after a momentary struggle, both parties was a well-known spot nearly twenty years before the mutually relinquished their grasp and laid their hands introduction of the "pickadel," or " turnover," at least on their swords. Mrs. Selwyn, who was present, ran puts one part of the argument at rest. We have already out in a fright to call in the palace guard; she was pre-employed more time on the subject than perhaps it devented, however, by the celebrated Henry Pelham, by serves, and must leave the vexata questio to be decided whose interposition the friends were subsequently re- by some more ingenious antiquary.—Ibid. conciled. According to Wraxall, Gay introduced this DEATH OF CHARLES THE TWELFTH.-The genescene into "The Beggar's Opera," where Walpole and rally received opinion hitherto has been that Charles the Townshend are represented as Peachum and Lockit. Twelfth was killed by a hostile ball from the ramparts Unfortunately, however, for the truth of this literary of Frederickshall, but it has transpired at last that he anecdote, I find that the fracas between the two minis- was, on the night of the 11th of December, 1718, under ters of state did not take place till the year 1729, at a frost so intense that the most hardy Swede could which period" The Beggar's Opera " had had the run of scarcely resist its disastrous influence. Charles, in the the stage about a year.-Jesse's" Memorials of London." undress of a simple officer, with the Kevenhuller hat, PICCADILLY. According to the authority of almost buff gloves, and enormous jack-boots, which formed his every person who has written on the subject of the streets characteristic costume, visited the trenches; and, disof London,- and I am sorry to disturb an opinion so long satisfied with the progress which had been made, sought received, Piccadilly derives its name from Peccadilla-out Mégret, the chief engineer. On meeting him, the hall, a repository for the sale of the fashionable ruffs for King made some bitter remarks on the slowness of the the neck, entitled piccadillies or turnovers, which were works in the unfinished parallel. "Sire, the place will introduced in the reign of James the First. Barnabe be taken in eight days," said Mégret. "We shall see," Rise, in his "Honestie of the Age," speaks of the "body- replied the King, continuing his walk to the angle makers that do swarm through all parts, both of London formed by the covered way and the parallel. He then and about London." "The body," he says, "is still paused again; and, in order to have a better view of the pampered up in the very dropsy of excess. He that workmen, clambered up the mound, and knelt on it for some forty years since should have asked after Pic- a while, resting his elbow on the parapet. Behind him, cadilly, I wonder who would have understood him, and less exposed to the fire from the enemies' batteries, or could have told what a Piccadilly had been, either stood Mégret, the engineer, and Siquier, the French fish or flesh." In Ben Jonson's "Devil is an Ass; " aide-de-camp to the Prince of Hesse Cassel. Siquier in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Pilgrim ;" and in had just arrived with despatches from the prince for Drayton's satirical poem "The Moon Calf," will be Charles XII. Some paces further back were the Count found more than one allusion to the fashionable "pick- Schwerin, the Count Posse, and the aide-de-camp Kuladel," or "pickadilly." It must be remarked, however, bert. Suddenly the King gave a deep sigh, and fell that the earliest of these productions (and they have all dead on the parapet with his face towards the fortress. evidently reference to a ridiculous and ephemeral fashion A ball had struck him on the right temple, traversed the of recent introduction) dates no further back than 1616; brain, and forced his left eye from its socket. His last and, moreover, according to every evidence which I have characteristic motion was to grasp the handle of his sword.-(Did the fatal ball come from the hostile fortress or from an assassin? Voltaire, on the authority of Siquier, asserts the former; but the Vicomte de Beaumont Vassy informs us that)-In a fit of delirium arising from fever at Stockholm, Siquier declared, "I am the assassin of Charles; it was I who killed the King!" and then breaking from his attendants he rushed to the window and besought pardon from an astonished crowd, collected by so strange an incident. Furthermore, a ball fired from the ramparts could hardly have gone through the head from right to left;-and, finally, the hat which Charles wore, still religiously preserved at Stockholm, seems obviously to have been pierced by a ball from a pistol of no very large dimensions. Vicomte de Beaumont Vassy's "History of Sweden." AN ENGLISH CONSERVATIVE VIEW OF IRISH AFFAIRS.-What we have said of the Chartists we may say of the Irish Repealers, and this is even a more serious consideration. The Repealers are coming in increased number, and with a spirit elevated far beyond what even their numerical increase would seem to justify. We may, and do, regret it, but it is our duty to state fairly the truth. The repeal feeling has made more progress in Ireland within the last year than it has made in any ten years since the commencement of the century, and made that progress chiefly among the Protestant gentry. We can assure our English readers that men who only two years ago would have considered the grave consideration of the question as nothing less than treason now canvass it freely as a mere question of expediency, and too generally as an experiment which there would be no harm in venturing upon. They who have undergone this change of sentiment are, indeed, in error, but their error is a natural one, and it is vain to endeavour to disabuse their minds of it. They have seen the primary interests of their country sacrificed to the cupidity of British manufacturers by the free-trade measures of '46 and of twenty preceding years. They have seen thousands and tens of thousands of their countrymen perishing from famine, while England would not permit them to borrow from strangers the means of saving the poor sufferers, and would not herself lend until the mischief was over, and would then lend only reluctantly, and as to an importunate pauper, lending with a cumbrous apparatus of guardianship that almost swallowed up the loan. Now, the intelligent Irish gentry feel that, if Ireland had a legislature of her own, she might borrow on the credit of her revenues to any extent, and borrow from any lender, just as the Canadians are now borrowing in the United States for the completion of their railroads; and the Irish gentry feel, too, that, if there is a real union, there can be no borrowing or lending between the United Kingdom and any of its divisions, because the treasure of the whole is, in case of necessity, the treasure of each part, as the wants of each part are the wants of the whole. Ireland, however, has not only been treated as an alien, but in Parliament and in the press her too modest claim as an alien but friendly state, with an insolence of heartlessness and brutality sufficient to irritate the calmest tempers.-Standard. GRATITUDE OF MR. SHERIDAN KNOWLES TO HIS GLASGOW FRIENDS And yet, can we ourselves forget the welcome that greeted us when, poor, almost starknaked in circumstances, we entered as a foreigner, a perfect stranger, a city the inhabitants of which share with their countrymen the reputation of exclusive clanishness, with only half a dozen letters of recommendation in our hand? How these letters were honoured! How those to whom we brought them collected their connections and friends around us! feasted and fostered us! How their kindness warmed into attachment, not slowly, but rapidly; not transiently, but permanently! How that attachment has cheered and gladdened us for nearly thirty years! How it manifests now all the solicitude and fervour of an own brother's love! Glasgow! capital of hospitable cities! we neither drew our breath in you nor spent our youth in you. You are neither part nor parcel of our fatherland! yet base were we to utter penury of mind and heart did we not feel as your son; for never son of your own was cherished by you more fondly, more cleavingly than we were. Were! ay, and are! May your civic motto be ever fulfilled! May you flourish, old Glasgow !—" Lovell." FORCE OF IMAGINATION.-The following is one of many singular circumstances that occur without finding publicity. The fact is stated on the authority of Capt. Corbin. The captain, as is his wont, went his rounds among his passengers. Upon taking the amount demanded from two ladies, one of them discovered in consequence that she was on her way to Ramsgate, and not to Margate, whither she was bound. Capt. Corbin, sceing her sudden alarm, assured her that the difference was comparatively nothing, as the weather was fine, and the sea as smooth as glass. She, however, expressed the utmost dread of the North Foreland. Captain Corbin heard but little further on the subject, naturally imagining that she would in a little time laugh at her ill-grounded fears. Upon being told by her companion that she was off the North Foreland, the lady in question fell back in a fainting fit, from which she never recovered. She was removed from the steamer (the Little Western) upon its arrival at Ramsgate, and placed in a fly, by order of the captain, who himself obtained apartments for the insensible lady and her distracted sister. Every care and attention was paid her, but she died the same evening.Canterbury Paper. THE GREEN FOR EVER! O the green for ever! the Irish green! For a maid or a minstrel to wear; "Tis the green of the oak when he proudly defies O the green for ever! the Irish green! The blue for a knight and the red for a queen, When the rose and the flow'r of the thistle have died, But 'tis not the green by stream or well Or the wine-cup, I love to see; 'Tis the green of the grave-'tis the mournful pall O the green for ever! the Irish green, Printed and published for the Proprietor, by A. J. Boak, at the Office, 2, Crane-court, Fleet-street; and sold by all Booksellers. Stationers, and Newsvenders in the United Kingdom. All communications for the Editor to be addressed to the Office, 2, Crane-court, Fleet-street. THE NEW WEEKLY CATHOLIC MAGAZINE. No. Z SATURDAY, AUGUST 28, 1847. [PRICE: 14d. of Charles Edward; and who have lately pub IS THE HOUSE OF STUART EXTINCT?lished the fact, veiled, indeed, or entangled under Fair lady, mourn the memory Of all our Scottish fame; How proud were we of our young prince, But all our hopes are past and gone There was no lack of bravery there, The memory of grief is past, Of terror and dismay; The die was risked and foully cast Upon Culloden day.-Jacobite Song. It would be a very startling fact if it were discovered, one hundred and two years after the battle of Culloden, that he for whom "the die was risked, but foully cast," by the sons of the ancient Gael, on that fatal day, had left an heir to the throne which he there lost, but had the year before so nearly won. The general opinion is that Prince Charles Edward died without legitimate issue. It was never known that he had issue by his wife, Madame Stolberg; but it is known that he had a daughter by his mistress, Miss Walkingshaw, which daughter he created Countess of Albany, and legitimatized, by a formal decree, as King of England. If this daughter had left issue, such issue might claim to be legitimate descendants, by virtue of this act, and therefore direct representatives, of the Stuart line from Charles Edward; but she left no issue, and, consequently, no such pretension could be, or ever has been, put forward. His marriage with Madame Stolberg was unhappy, and they separated never to be reunited. It was never known that, previous to this separation, they had issue; it was universally known and believed that they had not; consequently it was never pretended by the friends of the Stuarts that Charles Edward had left heirs to the throne of England. His brother, the Duke of York, entered the church, was created a cardinal, and died of course without issue. Cardinal York survived Prince Charles for some years. He was the last of the Stuarts. It was to be expected after this that we should hear no more of the Stuarts, yet there are now living within the precincts of Great Britain two gentlemen who, for fifteen or sixteen years, have allowed it to go abroad that they are grandsons a feeble web of romance, from which, however, it is very easy to unravel it. Our attention has been called to this subject by an article in the last Quarterly Review, and, as we are in possession of some particulars of the personal history of these gentlemen with which the reviewer appears not to have been acquainted, we may as well state them. Within fifteen or sixteen miles of the town of Inverness is a beautiful glen called Eskedale, through which runs the river Beauly. At a distance of five or six miles from the town of Beauly, the river divides itself into two parts round a small hill, and the two branches meet again at the other side. The hill becomes thus a small island. It is called Ilan Egish, in the Gaelic, the general language of the district around. The island-hill is thickly wooded, and there is a solitary mansion upon it. That mansion is the dwelling of the heirs of the Stuarts. They are John Sobieski Stolberg Stuart (so called) and Charles Edward Stuart. The elder, John Sobieski, is unmarried; the second, Charles Edward, is married, and has a family chiefly consisting of daughters, who, by the way, are very beautiful young women. They are Catholics, and regular attendants on Catholic worship at Eskedale, where they reside, or wherever they sojourn. You may see the portraits of the brothers in the shops of booksellers in Edinburgh, Glasgow, Perth, Inverness, and other towns of Scotland, with the names which we have given above beneath them. In the Highlands they invariably wear the national costume, the bonnet, plaid, kilt, and hose. They carry the plaid with a grace which would have filled the heart of Sir Walter Scott or Sir David Wilkie with delight, and which the proudest and most thoroughbred Highland chief would in vain attempt to rival. They are very elegant-looking men, rather above than below the middle size. And, what is very singular, they are remarkably like the Stuarts. This likeness would at once strike any one who had seen the statue of James the Second at Whitehall, or of Charles the First at Charing-cross. It is not a general, but a very strongly-marked, resemblance. It is not the general outlines, but the very same cast of |